#i used to do the carry over stuff first but for some reason this is justhow m brain did the maths

[livelaughlovesubs]

Dom!reader x sub!scarletella

Warning: fictional stuff - stimulation through a separate object (?), inspired by some fanarts (artists are amazing), teasing, degrading pet names

I’m seeing so many fanarts that have this implanted and I HAVE to do something about my horniness that’s holding me back from working so, as far as I understand, for mr. Scarlettela his real body is his umbrella or it’s at least connected to him - anyway, can’t believe I’m writing about homicipher bruh, I feel ashamed T^T

!!Spoiler warning!! This is not canon but has some elements from it

He is a good boy, he really is! Well, maybe not at all times, but he’s trying his best for you. And haven’t you seen just how much he loves and trusts you? He’s basically devoted to you! Like a faithful follower~ Handing the red umbrella he always carries over to you so easily, when he normally would never let anyone touch it, let alone give or lend it. It’s just proof of how much he likes you!

So why were you so mean and destroyed it? You like him, didn’t you know that his umbrella is connected to him? Why were you hurting him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t even know what to do. Because in the end, he still liked you.

Now this over 8 feet tall creature was kneeling in front of you, head lowered in confusion as he stared at the concrete floor. You were still holding the now broken umbrella, scoffing as you stared down at his rather pathetic form. It wasn’t entirely broken, just some bend metal and rough ends, or a little tear here and there. Yet for some reason his clothes were torn and disheveled, hands shaking slightly as he kept mumbling the words ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I like you’ over and over again. At first he seemed intimidating, but now you didn’t have an ounce of fear left.

There must have been a connection between him and this umbrella. Instead of speculating, best just ask him.

Slowly you pointed the long object in your hand at him, the tip pushed below his chin as you made him look up at you. His round, almost completely dark eyes stared right at you, one side was covered by his crimson hair. There were tears steaming down his cheeks, he was crying, how unexpected. The two of you locked eyes for a few seconds, and you wondered what you should do about this crazed man.

While their language was hard to grasp at first, you were getting the hang of it by now. “This umbrella, is you?” The meaning of the question itself was unbelievable, but since this ghost realm exists, maybe your hypothesis wasn’t that out of place. “Yes. Me body.” Look at that, you were right. That explains why he suddenly got so sad. You groaned internally and pulled your arm back, using the umbrella as a cane instead.

As you were still thinking over your next step, his hands reached out to you hesitantly, and softly tugged at the ends of your coat. After stretching the fabric out a little, he leaned his forehead against it, mumbling almost inaudibly, “please don’t go, I like you.” You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth subconsciously moving upwards as you snickered, “What?” His grip got a little tighter and his hand trembled from tensing his muscles so much, then he said a little louder, “I like you, don’t you like me?”

God you wanted to laugh, this was so sad it was laughable. How in the world did he come to that conclusion? In that moment, you had a lot to say it him, but due to the language barrier you couldn’t convey it really well. So you just talked to yourself, needing some time to vent.

“Oh you poor thing.” You chuckled in your own language, the one he didn’t understood. “What am I supposed to do with a perv like you?” He looked up at you again, wanting to ask what you said if not for your shoes that were pressing against his chest. “..what?” The person- or monster asked, but he didn’t resist your touch and leaned back, following your guidance. From earlier up to this point, he has been kneeling, just this time he was also using his arms behind his back to stabilise himself.

Without changing the almost arrogant look in your eyes, you used the gift he gave you to trace some imaginary lines on his body. The tip glided from his jawline to the tip of his chin, and you asked, “your name?” The heavy tension was something he also caught on, and he hesitated, not knowing to what this would lead. He shook his head, forcing out a “don’t know…”

You hummed slowly, showing you understood the message. Nonetheless, you continued to move the tip down his neckline all the way to his toned collarbones, “I’ll give you a name.” His eyes widened even more, it made him look objectively creepier, but you thought he looked like a dumb puppy. All big eyes, bearing a deep need and raw desire in his pupils. “How about,” then, just like drawing with a stick in the mud, you traced the word, “Scarlet,” over his chest, simultaneously voicing out the word.

He shuddered as the hard surface scribbles around his torso, squeezing his lips together while he tried to stay still for you. You weren’t being exactly gentle there. When you stopped to glance at him, he quickly nodded. That wasn’t the end to your little play yet, and you slid the pointy end across his abs and stomach, down to his thighs, making him spread them a little wider, “I gave you a name, so you’ll be my servant from now on. Understood?” This has been said in your language, but you hoped he’ll get the overall meaning.

Again he nodded. In his head, being your servant meant you liked him, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t keep him around! So how could he ever say no.

“Use your mouth.” You ordered, digging the tip into his flesh a little, and he answered shortly after, “I understand, me happy.” Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his previous crying ceased. Instead a faint taint of pink covered his cheeks, and he stared at you almost manically. “Good.” You said, which was basically a praise— right? —and he smiled, a shaky, breathless one.

A little behind you was a chair, and you dragged it closer to the still kneeling man below you. Even you were starting to get tired of standing, so you sat down in a comfortable position. “What now.” You said to yourself, not really paying him any attention anymore. It would be nice if you had a collar, would red or black look better on him? But your resources were limited, and you didn’t exactly have a lot of things with you as well. That’s when you absentmindedly thought over what you did own.

Besides that crowbar you’ve found down here, you really didn’t have a lot. Well, you also had a broken umbrella now— hold up, that’s right, you own him now. A rather sadistic thought came to mind, and you pondered to what limit you could control him with this red, unusual umbrella. Would he feel your presence when you just hold it? You got lost in your thoughts again, fumbling with the torn textile and the handle. This didn’t stop until a strange sound caught your attention.

Your eyes left the red batch of fabric in your hands, and instead wandered to the other red thing in the room. He crawled into a ball, arms folded in front of his body while his head pressed against the ground. It looked like he was in pain again, though you weren’t sure if these noises were whimpers of pain or pleasure. “You okay?” You eventually asked, and he whispered in a higher pitch, “me okay..!”

Once again your gaze returned to the umbrella. He must be in this state due to something you did, and so you tightened your grip around the handle while mindlessly drawing a line with your index finger on the panel. As expected, his shoulder jerked upwards even more, and he rolled more together, as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. His entire body was twitching, also for some reason his coat was only hanging off his arms now.

“You are into it.” You commented, not even too shocked to learn this rather unnecessary fact. At least you can have your fill of fun with this. “What about this?” Suddenly you started moving your hand up and down the handle, rubbing the umbrella panel with the other hand. It was a truly humbling experience to do something implied sexual to a literal object, but your eyes were glued to the ghost before you, so you didn’t even notice how weird it must have looked.

And sure enough, there was a change in his behaviour, he got louder. Your smile widened involuntarily, and your pace also got quicker and rougher. Oh fucking hell, if he was really feeling that kind of sensations, you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was like you were hypnotised, concentrated on nothing but his expressions. On the different ways his face twisted into one of ecstasy.

A big, dark, lunatic grin, paired with fanatic eyes that were ripped wide open. Some hints of a scarlet blush covering his face while sweat rolled down his face. Those perverse sounds he made were proof of the probably internal pleasure he felt, and he quivered all over, still bend down on the floor. Now that you’ve got a better grasp of what was happening, you realized he was crawled together to hide something.

“Ngh, hgGnn- ah..! Please…♥︎～” he whined at your feet, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and landing on the floor. You’ve been fumbling with the handle for some time, so you’ve gotten bored again and was curious about if the textile was a part of his being as well. Without a second thought, you simply stuck two fingers between the folds, and you were met with a heavily muffled moan.

“Arghhh-…MmmHFfffF～ ♡♡♥︎” Once he felt your touch, he bit into his own palm to quiet himself down. At some point he started crying again, glistening tears decorating his already ruined face. You didn’t think his reaction would be this good, this lewd, whatever you did, he must have liked it a lot. Which is why, despite the absurdity of your actions, you moved your fingers in and out of the holes or just randomly caressed whatever part you felt like touching.

Out of nowhere you felt something tugging at your coat again, it gave off a sense of Deja vu. Of course it was him, who was only pinching the corner of it with a shaky hand. His grip had lost any strength compared to before, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. “What?” You asked him, though you didn’t stop your administrations. He cried out when he opened his mouth to speak, breaking down in front of you, for your entertainment only.

“Haaaa-HnnGh… wait, p-please wait-!♡” Was he telling you it was too much? It’s making you want to overstimulated him even more. He was being so pathetic it was cute. Without wasting a single second, you went as fast as you could, blatantly ignoring his pleads. Based on your own observations, he must have been close, if he was similar to a real person. “Feels good?” You asked, to make sure he was alright. He didn’t reply again and only nodded all weakly, but you’ll let it slide this time.

He felt so hot and strange, it was a nice but unfamiliar feeling. Not only that, he felt something burning building up inside him and it was threatening to spill. That’s why he wanted you to slow down. Poor thing was confused, absolutely baffled what this warm feeling was. Is it love? It must be love. He loved you and you loved him after all. All in all it wasn’t a bad feeling, and since you seemed happy, he is too!

Another sudden wave of pleasure coursed through him, his eyes were clouded with lust and bliss, and the dirty whimpers that slipped past his lips got more erotic by the second. How desperate and lovesick he sounded, begging, pleading, squirming and trashing around on the spot. Thighs pressed together while his toes curled, back arched as a last moan ripped from his throat, “nnNgGHhh ♡♥︎ ♡～” Just as you predicted, that must have been his climax. Now’s the question, did he came in his pants? Did such things still have a reproductive system?

My my, it seems that is the case, whatever it was it seeped through the dark fabric of hi trousers, causing an even darker spot to appear.

You only caught glimpses of it since he was hiding his own body so much, but you were content nevertheless. Since he was so obedient the entire time, you decided to be nice to him with the limited vocabulary you had. “Cute.” His kneeling figure was still shuddering and twitching, ragged gasps and pants were also coming from him. But for him, the only thing he could hear was your voice ringing and echoing in his mind, as well as the awfully loud beats of his own heart.

After all this time, you finally praised him! Well you did before but this time he was sure of it! And you found him cute! He was so happy he couldn’t stop grinning. That’s when you said, “do you want anything?” It was to kind of make up for making a fool out of him, or maybe for breaking his umbrella. He didn’t even think before quickly turning his head up, slurring out, “g-give me you name?” You blinked, that wouldn’t have been what you wished for but oh well. Right before you simply told him the answer you stopped yourself, and responded teasingly, “call me master.”

You weren’t sure if he knew the meaning behind it, but it didn’t matter. He had a blank look for a few seconds, mumbling to himself, most likely repeating that word a thousand times. While he did that, he let his head hang low again, facing the floor. His hair hid his face really well, and you couldn’t read his expression. “You alright?” You asked once the silence started to make you feel uneasy.

He placed both his hand on the floor and leaned down, until his face was hovering centimetres above your shoe, and he whispered eagerly, excessively so, “I’m happy, master. I love you.” Before kissing the tip of your shoe. You stared down in disbelief, a shiver running down your spine. He was more of a freak than you thought.

The moment he was done, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, proceeding to yank on it, making him face you on eye-level while he gasped in surprise. Your other hand clutched the umbrella more tightly, causing him to groan slightly. “Stupid dog.” You chuckled with a sinister smile spread across your face, watching as hearts appeared in the middle of his pupils.

[evenfallwriter]

Ghost Foxes AU - 01

Have seen a couple of snippets of 'Ghosts' the tv show, and now i cant get the thought of all of the foxes being Ghosts and Neil ending up moving in there.

The house is the Baltimore house which Neil grew up in, the one where his father and mother had been in at one point, a place that Neil wants nothing to do with, and is desperate to get rid of. He can't however, when he realizes that he is not alone. When he realises that so many innocent souls are stuck there, and if they don't end up leaving, they will perish.

He isn't a good man, he just doesn't want countless ghosts following after him after the house is demolished, doesn't want to die only to be surrounded by spirits that have been waiting for him to give his last breath, it's absolutely not because he feels somewhat guilty.

The first time he sees one of them is when he is in the basement, fighting for his life at the hand of his father. He sees a ghost, a woman in her mid thirties, telling him to hold on, that he will be alright. He sees another man with tribal tattoos, telling him that he believes him, that he didn't survive through all the sh*t he went through just to give up then.

And Neil does make it.

He makes it, is carried off to the hospital and barely makes it on time.

But it doesn't change the fact that he makes it.

He is only 16 when that happens, and for 2 years he wishes to have nothing to do with the house, but when it is requested of him to return back there and to go through his mother's stuff he ends up agreeing only for his uncle's sake.

His mother has more stuff than he had thought, and there are also stuff that had once belonged to other victims of Nathan's, which he finds himself feeling somewhat responsible of.

So he stays, at first planning on staying only for a night or two, but ends up staying far longer than he had planned in the end.

At first, he sees them like flickers of light and nothing more. Their faces growing clearer only when they finally find peace by Neil letting know their families of what happened. Of Neil handing over their remains to their families.

It is only after all the lost spirits, the vengeful ones, those that had fallen at the hands of Nathan, that he finds himself able to catch sight of the others.

That he is able to see the foxes.

The first one he meets is Abby, whom he is unable to remember for such a long time because the night at the basement had been rough and he had blocked off memories from back then, even if he hadn't done it intentionally.

Abby is amazing, and somewhat keeps the other ghosts away for a while.

She is there after each nightmare so are almost all of the others, but Neil doesn't know at first, and at some point she will end up becoming something akin to a mother.

Nicky is the second one, a bundle of energy that get Neil used to having others around, and there to help him get not-so-lost in his head at the end of the day. He also manipulates Neil's dreams every now and then too, shows him of softer things, of fields free of anything but flowers, of the sunrise, of an exy field that is endless.

He blocks out Neil's demons as much as he can, even though it means that they get plastered in his own mind instead.

Allison, surprisingly enough, is the third ghost Neil meets, followed by Seth and Dan and Matt. They care for him, in a way that no one else has, they have seen his scars, have witnessed him get them and someone of them had even tried to stop Nathan more than his mother ever had.

Neil is at first uncomfortable by their love, but slowly grows accustomed to it.

The next ghost he meets is Wymack, and he breaks apart when he meets the man, when his eyes land on the tattoos on his wrists because he remembers the man, not only from the basement back then, but also from sleepless nights that were only made bearable by the presence of Wymack who told him countless stories and is the reason that his obsession with exy began in the first place.

(Had to get these ideas written down somewhere before i ended up losing all of it, have so many more ideas for this au but this post is getting quite long so will probably make a second post about it, feel free to send me asks <3)

[goldenflowertrails]

27+48

2+4=6 then look at the 7+8, 7+7=14 so turn one of the 7's to an 8 instead, and the answer is 15.

Add that 1 to the earlier 6 to make it a 7 and then slide the 5 next to it to get 75.

Typing it makes me realise that this looks slightly unhinged.

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO!

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3

masterlist | patreon

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

~

"Hey, neighbor."

"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.

The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.

Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.

This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.

You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.

"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.

"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.

"What, with me?"

"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."

You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.

With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.

"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"

"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.

"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.

"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.

"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.

The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.

"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.

"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.

"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.

"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.

With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.

The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.

Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.

"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.

"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.

With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?

His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.

"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.

"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.

With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.

"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.

"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.

He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.

A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.

"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."

Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.

"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!

"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.

"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.

With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.

In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.

"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.

Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.

"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.

"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."

"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.

Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.

Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.

Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.

After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.

Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.

"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.

Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.

"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.

"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.

"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.

"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.

Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.

It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.

Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.

As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.

He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."

Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.

It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.

"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.

"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.

"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.

Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.

He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.

"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.

"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.

With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.

"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.

Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.

"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.

"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.

Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.

"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.

A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.

He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.

"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.

"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.

It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.

"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.

If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.

"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.

"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.

He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"

"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.

"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"

You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.

You were right.

"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.

With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.

"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.

"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.

Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.

"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.

"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.

"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.

You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.

"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.

"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.

You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.

"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.

Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.

This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.

After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).

"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.

"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.

"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."

Fair enough.

Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).

It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.

One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.

After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.

The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.

You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.

With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.

"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.

"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.

"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.

"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.

"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.

Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.

"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.

"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."

Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.

Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.

Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.

Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.

"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.

"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.

Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.

"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.

The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.

"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.

With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.

He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.

In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.

"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.

You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.

"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.

"But-"

"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.

to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.

wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.

"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.

After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.

Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.

That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.

Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.

He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.

But what could you do? He was addictive.

"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.

"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."

He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.

"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.

"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."

"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[fxrheisenn]

Andrus Laansalu talked about making Disco Elysium at EKA (Estonian Academy of Arts)

"Initially, the church wasn't a focal point. There were certain characters that needed to visit this location, and I asked, "Seriously, what do we have in our church?" The others replied, "Nothing at all. Our church is completely bare—just a wheel, really. It's quite basic."

That's when I decided to unleash my creativity in the design. For example, they chose to install a glass structure at the top of the church to create a reflective surface. It was like placing an optical clock up there. Therefore, one of the most crucial aspects of designing the church was ensuring the lighting was just right to create the desired atmosphere."

"Let me show you an example of Baroque architecture, which is rich in detail. We're also designing the interior of the church based on large cathedrals. However, the foundation you use might not yield the expected results, because the church itself doesn't require such intricate details. Sometimes, it's about simplifying the design."

"I used Articy for the initial scriptwriting of Disco Elysium. The image only represents a tiny fraction of the text and choice variables involved. This system was also the reason I eventually abandoned the project after a year of outlining the script and shifted my focus to becoming a sound designer. My mind struggled to keep up with the dynamic graphic rules, but fortunately, a more talented writer took over afterward."

"In terms of sound design, it's essential to develop different layers to bring out the charm of the church as a cohesive space. Although this represents only a small portion of the overall design, each layer actually requires a significant amount of time to compose the whole....... Whenever there's a shift or a change due to the dialogue itself, you need to adjust the background sounds. Each time you modify the details in the dialogue, I have to refine the background audio, ensuring that these elements build upon each other like an intricate layer of work."

"It's funny how many scenes involve characters getting smacked in the face. My job was to recreate those, so I locked myself in the bathroom with a recorder and hit my forehead until it turned red.

As a sound designer, I really dig those unsettling, drill-like sounds. So, I mixed in creepy lectures, metal scraping, moans, and cries of pain—because I just love that stuff! (laughs)

Players will be moving through all kinds of areas, so it's super important to make the sound transitions feel natural, trying to create a more immersive vibe in certain spaces.

With all the scenes featuring big cranes, you can hear them from far away, and I wanted to capture that eerie ringing in your ears. That's going to be a thing throughout most of the game. I've found ways to really mess with players while they're playing!"

"I've come across a lot of old objects (like phones and radios) that I needed to perfectly replicate the sounds. I started to become a bit of a hoarder, buying up different models of old phones whenever I found one to add to my collection. The sound effects I can simulate from them are really impressive."

"Some of the devices don't actually exist in real life—just a mix of architecture and tech. When I need to create sound effects, I first look for something similar that exists in our world, then I try to simulate what the sound and appearance of that thing might have been like a century ago.

Towards the end of the game, there's a character carrying a fuel canister. We needed the sound of the canister, so we dug one up from our garage—it had been sitting there since it was five! I realized this would make the sound perfect. So, it had been there for 50 years, and after 40 years, it finally found its purpose.

In some places, I needed unique sound waves, and recreating them was a real headache until one day I happened to walk by a swimming pool and stumbled upon an old wartime torpedo. You can rotate the torpedo's probe, and it slowly rises up, like a proud zombie head. The sounds it made were exactly what I needed!"

🙋How did you manage to get funding?

"Well, since we're in Estonia, you just need to know a wealthy person. You don't need five people—just two who can network, hang out together, and convince them to keep investing! (laughs) Back then, we constantly ran out of money and would tell them, 'Oops, looks like we spent it all! Can you invest a bit more?' That's how we made it through!"

🙋How did you all come together to make the game?

"Luck. It usually doesn't happen this way, and that's the key difference. It has to be. If not, you couldn't create a game of this scale - well, I mean in terms of budget. But creatively, Estonia definitely has writers and artists who can pull it off. With such a small population, there are a lot of quirky folks who are good friends. We were really lucky, though - lots of fortunate circumstances came together. It brought the right people together, allowing those talented fools to collaborate with us. They had experience but hadn't tackled projects of this magnitude before. So yeah, luck is pretty important!"

Lecture experience shared by 白兔YIYANG SUN on 小红书, reposted & translated by me with her permission.

[fxstpace]

the very first night

summary: the search for a new place to live takes a turn for the worse when the only person willing to split rent with you is your ex-boyfriend.

pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader genres: romance, angst, smut, exes to lovers!au, roommates!au word count: 19.7k

↳ warnings: profanity, alcohol conusmption, explicit sexual content (oral sex, fingering, protected sex) ↳ a/n: title is the very first night by taylor swift. reposted from my old blog.

ONE

You think that all the decisions you’ve made in your life so far have all boiled down to this one moment.

Karmic retribution, if you will.

Despite the six months for which you and your ex-boyfriend have been separated, Kim Mingyu looks the same. The same floppy hair that never quite sits flat on his head—though he’s let it grow a tiny bit, and now it curls behind his ears—and the same tight-fitting black shirt you swear you tried stealing from him once. Wire-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and warm brown eyes that peer back at you. Pink lips which beckon you with a small, yet welcoming smile.

“Hey.” The word drags from his mouth, and he extends the last syllable for a second longer than necessary. “You’re here early.”

Shit. Even his voice sounds the same.

You heft your suitcase and place it by your feet just so you can avoid eye contact. Under different circumstances, Mingyu probably wouldn’t have let you carry your suitcase all the way up the stairs to the third floor—the elevator has been out of commission since before you even met him, and that doesn’t appear to change anytime soon. He probably would have lugged the whole thing upstairs, despite your protests and claims that you’re strong enough to do it on your own. But now, you can only sense his gaze on your figure as you place it securely on the floor.

When you straighten up, he’s still looking at you. He has an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes are clouded, almost as if he’s built some kind of impenetrable fortress against you. You have your walls up, too—in the slight clench of your jaw and defiant raise of your chin—and it’s something someone else wouldn’t be able to notice, but you’re sure Kim Mingyu has.

“Yeah. Um.” You attempt to smile, pray it doesn’t visibly appear as a grimace, and gesture behind you with your thumb. “The packers and movers came by pretty early, so everything ended up moving faster.”

“I see.” He purses his lips, evidently running out of things to say. (Good for you, really, because there’s nothing for you to say either.)

You take the chance to glance behind him—a feat in itself, considering how broad his shoulders are—and observe the interiors of what is going to be your home for the next year. Beige walls, the ratty sofa he bought off a garage sale, the television set he originally used to play video games on but ended up using it to watch shows instead—and a potted succulent placed in the corner. That wasn’t there before.

Before you allow your lips to tug up amusedly, Mingyu speaks again. “Is that all? When’s the rest of your stuff coming in?”

“The movers said they’d have everything ready within two days. It might take me longer to get everything sorted out, though,” you reply, aiming your gaze downwards at your suitcase.

It’s an old thing, with fraying fabric and rusty wheels, but it currently contains a fraction of your belongings: Clothes, toiletry, a small pouch where you keep items that have a special significance to you. Only the bare essentials, really. Mingyu had assured you that the room was furnished, with a bed, closet and desk. His old roommate, Minghao, had moved out but left the furniture behind because he had no reason to take them with him—not when he moved in with his girlfriend in her own apartment. All that’s left for the movers to bring over is your bookshelf, your book collection, the rest of your clothes, the Ikea drawer you and your best friend, Park Jihyo, built together, and other smaller items like your desk lamp and office chair.

“That’s okay,” Mingyu says. “Take as long as you need.”

You nod, mumbling a “thank you”, then bend down to pick up your suitcase.

Mingyu moves aside, granting you enough space to roll it across the floor and head over to the side that leads to the Minghao’s old room. Right opposite you is the doorway that leads to Mingyu’s bedroom, and further to the side is the corridor that opens into the kitchen, the small space where he keeps a dining table, and the bathroom.

In a way, you’re glad your room is situated further away from those places. Ghosts of memories linger there, ones that you can’t bear to revisit.

No, it’s better this way; you’re away from everything that you used to consider a second home. Maybe if you close the door behind you, you can pretend like you’re in some kind of void where the only things that exist are you and the bed.

“Wait, Y/N.”

You pause, feeling… something. The way he says your name, so casually, as if it’s second nature to him (it used to be) and nothing has changed at all, has you on edge—not in the good way, but not in the bad way either. 

You turn around. “Yeah?”

“Um.” Your ex-boyfriend hesitates for a second. “I’m… going out for dinner with Minghao and some others, is that okay? It might be late by the time I come back.”

“Okay.” Then, feeling the need to clarify something, you say, “You—you don’t have to tell me that. We don’t… owe each other an explanation for where the other is.”

Mingyu stays quiet, and you look away, teeth worrying your bottom lip. You wonder if he’s going to say anything—or even show any kind of reaction at all. 

“Right. We don’t.” His voice is toned down with a kind of uneasiness that you don’t blame him for. Heck, even you feel a twinge of hurt rise up your throat at your own words. “I’ll… let you get some rest.” He nods once, places his hands in his pockets, and walks back to his room.

Your grip on the suitcase handle tightens. Once you enter your room, you let out a pained sigh. You shut the door and turn your back to the wooden blockade that separates you from the rest of the apartment.

This is not going the way you expected—but then again, what had you expected? That everything between you and Mingyu would just vanish and you could talk to him normally without feeling that tiny pinprick of bitterness stab your chest every time you address him? You and Mingyu have a history, filled with good times and bad times, and six months spent away from each other will do nothing to erase that. 

You think of what your old roommate, Jihyo, would’ve said. He’s just a boy, Y/N. Make him clean the toilet all the time so he’ll automatically get sick of you.

You smile to yourself, unlocking your phone. Jihyo is probably too busy settling down in her new home in the city she moved to, so she can’t pick up your call. You decide to send her a text message instead.

You switch to the food app, order your favourite dishes from the Indian place a couple of streets away, and toss your phone onto the bed. Kneeling, you unzip your suitcase and unpack the few items you have with you. As you move around, you can already imagine how to decorate the place, how to make it feel more like a home and less like you’re an intruder. The closet is just enough for all the clothes you own—the ones you’ve packed and the ones stored in cardboard boxes yet to arrive. The desk placed opposite to the bed is perfect for when you have to work on your laptop late at night; if you place your lamp on it, you might even forget that you’re not in your old apartment. The bed already has a mattress with clean linen on the bedspread. You place your old Looney Tunes duvet on it.

Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rings. You pause your unpacking to get the door and thank the delivery guy for the food. Mingyu has already left, judging by the lack of noise in the rest of the apartment. You just hope he doesn’t come back home drunk and shit-faced—that would definitely ruin the rest of your night, and the much-needed sleep you require. 

You decide not to use the kitchen table, instead opting to take the food containers into your room, where you can eat and watch a show at the same time. It’s lonely, but at least you can have your meal somewhere comfortable.

Your phone rings with notifications. You pick it up, carefully balancing the bowl of curry on your knee. 

(19:47) Jihyo: hows the apartment??? did u make mingyu clean the toilet yet?

(19:47) Mingyu: hey, i’m at a thai place. do you want anything to eat at home? i could get something packaged.

You smile at the first text, tense up at the second one, and place your phone down next to you. Not replying to either of their messages might be a bad idea, but right now, all you want is to have your spicy curry and naan in peace—your best friend and ex-boyfriend be damned.

TWO

It’s only after you move in with Mingyu that your separation from Jihyo truly sinks in. Now, there’s no one you can wake up at two in the morning because your period started and you ran out of pads, or gossip about that one campus couple who broke up in public at your favourite boba place.

Not to mention the fact that living with your ex-boyfriend is mildly awkward at best and stupidly melancholic at worst.

It’s been a week, but you and Mingyu seem to have figured out a way to work in tandem. It appears as though neither of you want to see the other—just yet, at least. He goes for a morning jog at six; your alarm rings at six. He comes back reeking of sweat at seven in the morning; you’re getting ready to leave for work by then. You do the dishes on the days he vacuums the apartment and vice versa. It leaves no room for conversation, other than the occasional greetings and small talk when you happen to cross paths.

In fact, ever since you purposefully ignored Mingyu’s text asking if you wanted anything from the Thai restaurant, he’s made a conscious effort at avoiding you.

You nearly jump out of your seat when someone taps your shoulder. “Hey.”

You turn around and meet your co-worker, Lee Seokmin’s eyes. He smiles at you, eyes curving into little crescents.

“Hi,” you say, smiling back automatically.

If there’s one person you can count on to bring a smile to your lips, even if it’s eight o’clock in the morning—at work, no less—it’s Lee Seokmin. His cheerful nature and lively personality is infectious. His happiness radiates outwards in waves that everyone gets swept up on. You might even consider yourself envious of how easily he sways everyone, with that exuberant smile and those good-natured compliments he doles out to everyone like they cost him nothing. (Which they don’t, you suppose.)

“Something on your mind?”

Your smile turns into a grimace. “You could tell?”

He gives you a little half-shrug, still smiling. “You had a weird, serious, think-y face. And before you come at me for think-y not being a real word—I’m very aware of that, thank you—it’s the best way I can describe you.”

“You chose think-y—” you bite back a chuckle— “as the best word to describe me? Come on, Seokmin, you can do better than that.”

“I can,” he agrees, “but only when the situation is appropriate.” His face turns grave, and he continues, “But seriously, Y/N. Did you have a rough night?”

His eyes roam over your face, evident concern shown in the curve of his lips and the slight dip of his eyebrows. You control your wince, wondering if the swollen bags underneath your eyes aren’t as concealed by your makeup as you thought. 

Rough week, more like. But you don’t say that to him. “Something like that,” you say.

“You moved out a while back, right? How’s the new place?”

“It’s… good. Close to the supermarket and all that. Everything is within, like, a ten-metre radius, so I don’t have to go very far to get things.”

“That’s nice to hear,” Seokmin says, and you can tell he really means it. “I bet you’re tired, though, with all that packing and unpacking and moving around.”

He bends closer, the front of his loosely tucked shirt just barely touching the back of your chair. This close, you can smell the faint scent of Seokmin’s deodorant and fabric softener. He taps his finger on the arm of your chair. “Do you want to get some coffee with me?”

“Um.” You look back at your laptop and the pile of binders next to it. Seokmin seems to know what you’re thinking, because he huffs and says, “C’mon, I’m sure Seungcheol wouldn’t mind if you took a coffee break.”

“I guess,” you return, flashing him a smile when he rolls your chair backwards to give you space to stand up.

Getting up, both of you weave your way to the third floor, where the only functioning coffee maker is housed. The elevator is too crowded and busy for you to use to get down from your position on the seventh floor, so you settle for using the stairs. Throughout the ten-minute walk (which effectively turns into a fifteen-minute one, thanks to him), Seokmin waves and greets every single fellow office worker you pass by. By name.

You roll your eyes and bite your lip to hold back your laugh when a young, female intern—probably still in college by the looks of it—flushes bright red because Seokmin complimented her barrette.

He catches your eye and grins. “What’s so funny?”

You shake your head good-naturedly. “It’s nothing. Carry on with whatever you were doing.”

“What was I doing?”

“Oh, you know,” you say airily, “making everyone fall head over heels for you because you’re just so nice.”

His grin only widens. “You make it sound as though being nice is a bad thing.”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” you protest. “I’m just— Greeting every single person you see? By name? How do you even know everyone in the building?”

“I just check their ID card,” he explains, shrugging slightly. “I read this WikiHow article that said if you speak to people using their name, it creates a good impression and makes you appear more confident than you really are.”

“Really?”

Humming, Seokmin nods, before adding slyly, “I’m not sure what you mean by making everyone fall in love with me, though.”

“Please,” you snort. “You’re way too charming for your own good—and I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

“You think so?” 

You can hear the smugness in his tone and you roll your eyes again. “Yes, I think so.”

“Then…” He trails off, gazing at the handrail.

Seokmin’s voice turns softer, more serious. Contemplation bleeds into his features, and when he speaks again, he lacks the bravado he had with all the other people he spoke to on your way down.

“Guess I better work on charming the right people, huh?” 

You blink, but before you can digest Seokmin’s words, he gives you another bright grin before rounding the corner and striding towards the coffee machine. You follow, the need for caffeine in your system overriding your instinct to mull over what your co-worker said. Unfortunately, it seems you and Seokmin aren’t the only ones who want coffee; a long queue runs ahead of you. Your coffee break might end up taking longer than you thought.

“So,” Seokmin casually drawls, one hand in his pocket and the other fiddling with his ID card’s lanyard. “Do you want to talk about your rough night?”

“I…” You pause and consider. 

Should you tell Seokmin? You trust him enough—you’ve known him for as long as you’ve been working in this company—and he’s always been friendly to you, offering you a ride home when both of you work overtime and paying for your food on the occasional visits to a café or a coffee shop. Besides, he’s the closest person you have to a friend, now that Jihyo lives in a different city and you can’t call her up whenever you feel like it. You decide to tread the waters first, only telling him the bare minimum.

“Hypothetically speaking,” you begin, “if you move in with someone you don’t like but have known for years, what would you do?”

“That’s a tough one.” He scratches his chin, pretending to think. “I guess it depends on the kind of past you share, y’know? But either way, I would try to… make peace with them, I guess. Like a ceasefire. Offer them an olive branch. Hypothetically speaking, of course.” He grins knowingly at the last bit and you shove his shoulder.

What Seokmin said makes sense. You and Mingyu are living together; your past relationship shouldn’t come in the way of talking to each other. But it does, so much more than it should. Try as hard as you might, every time you think of Kim Mingyu, the first thing that comes to your mind is all the kisses you’ve shared, the way his arms feel around you, how both of you broke the promises you made to each other—all because you were too proud and he was too stubborn. 

You still are proud. For all you know, Mingyu might still be stubborn. 

What a pair, you think drily.

You and Seokmin shuffle forwards. He stays silent, allowing you to process your thoughts and wonder how, exactly, you’re going to get over Mingyu and talk to him without feeling like your stomach is twisting into a million knots. 

Once you reach the coffee machine, Seokmin hands you a cup. “It’s hot,” he warns, before carefully handing you the styrofoam cup filled to the brim with the bitter brew. You cautiously take a sip, wincing when you almost burn your tongue and make a face at your co-worker when he chimes, “I told you.”

The walk back to your floor doesn’t take as long as the walk down. Before you part ways, Seokmin offers you a small smile and a pat on your shoulder.

“If you’re wondering how to approach your roommate,” he says, lowering his voice, “maybe start off by offering them food. Works like a charm every time.”

Food. Yeah, you can manage that. Dinner with your ex-boyfriend.

Should be a piece of cake.

THREE

Asking Mingyu if he would like to have dinner with you is decidedly not a piece of cake.

When he comes back home from work, Mingyu has only one trajectory: Travel in a straight line from the door to his bedroom, offering you a tight smile if he sees you along the way. His bag is always slung across one shoulder and his shirt is always untucked and his hair is always a wild mess. If his appearance wasn’t achingly familiar, you would probably laugh every time you see his unruly figure.

It takes a week for you to muster up the nerve to look Mingyu in the eye, after your conversation with Seokmin. He’s been pestering you incessantly, almost exactly like Jihyo. When you told her about Seokmin’s suggestion, she had been nothing short of enthusiastic. Your phone has been blowing up constantly with texts from her, egging you on and on and on to make a move first and raise the (hypothetical) white flag. 

“If you keep putting it off, you’re going to be very miserable for the rest of your immediate future,” was her reasoning when you called and spoke to her on the phone three days ago. “But also if you don’t fucking ask him to have a meal with you within the next week, I will fly over and have you both sit in a room, alone, and force you to talk.”

Both the options are pretty much the same. You didn’t have the energy to tell Jihyo that.

It’s on a Monday evening that you catch Mingyu and pop the question. A Monday evening that’s insignificant, really. Almost laughable at how normal the evening is. Mingyu unlocks the door, closes it while toeing his shoes off, and gives you the same tight smile—one where it doesn’t reach his eyes, his jaw is slightly clenched, and his lips thin into almost straight lines. 

“Mingyu.” Your voice comes out breathless, like you’ve been jogging for miles before coming to a stop in front of him. He pauses, wind-ruffled hair framing his face in cloudy wisps.

“Yeah?” 

“I—uh—” you force the words to tumble out of your lips, before you can overthink— “I was wondering if you would like to have dinner with me?”

Mingyu purses his lips, looking at you warily. He’s careful, cautious, when he asks, “Is… there any special reason?”

You swallow. “No,” you say honestly, not allowing your eyes to tear away from his. “There isn’t. But I tried making lasagne today, and I would like to share it with someone.”

For a minute, he doesn’t say anything, only lets his bag fall into the crook of his arm. “Okay,” he says finally. “Let me just change and wash up.”

You nod, making your way to the kitchen to bring out the casserole. You’re not usually one for cooking—you prefer ordering takeout because it’s easier and they make the food better than you, anyway—but simply ordering food didn’t sit right with you. Lasagne is a dish you’ve made a few times before, and you would rather make something you’re familiar with instead of trying to whip up something new.

When you go back into the kitchen, you find Mingyu already there, bent over an open cupboard’s door as he fishes out some plates and cutlery. He’s wearing a loose white shirt and grey sweatpants, fringe falling freely over his forehead and obscuring his eyes. 

“Are our regular plates okay or do we need the china ones?” he asks, still bent over.

“Why do we need china plates? Wait, why do you even have china plates with you in the first place?”

He looks over at you and shrugs. “Dunno. Minghao had a china cutlery phase, I think.”

That does sound like a phase Xu Minghao would have.

“The regular ones are fine.” You don’t want to risk breaking Minghao’s precious cutlery.

While Mingyu wipes the plates with a dishcloth, you grab two mugs and pour orange juice from the fridge into them. You take one in each hand and follow Mingyu to the kitchen table, placing both of them on either side.

“Orange juice?” Mingyu’s eyebrows are raised.

“Yeah. So?” you challenge him, raising your eyebrows as well.

But he doesn’t say anything against your choice of beverage, only shrugs and mumbles, “We should really stock up on alcohol.”

Your lips twitch. You don’t allow yourself to smile.

Instead, you pull your chair back and sit down, steepling your fingers in front of you. Mingyu piles some food onto his plate. For some reason, you feel weirdly nervous. What if it’s not as good as you think? What if he doesn’t like it?

You shake those thoughts away. This is Kim Mingyu. Even if the food was bad, he wouldn’t tell you; he would only grin, compliment your culinary skills, and continue to eat despite everything.

“Is it… good?” you ask tentatively, after he takes a forkful into his mouth and chews deliberately.

He waits until he’s swallowed before answering. “It’s great. Really good,” he affirms, and you can hear in his voice that he means it.

Well, almost.

It’s the slight dip and intonation of his tone, but it’s one you’re familiar with. You narrow your eyes at him. Mingyu continues eating, oblivious to your glare. In fact, he shovels more lasagne onto his dish and eats with more gusto, pausing every now and then to gulp down some orange juice.

“Really?” you say casually. “I’m glad. Maybe I should try some too.”

Mingyu’s reaction is so instantaneous, it’s almost comical. His eyes widen by a fraction, and he immediately reaches for the casserole. “You should definitely try some,” he says. “But it’s so good, I wanna have some more.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, watching Mingyu stuff more food into his mouth before deciding to put him out of his misery.

“Mingyu. Tell me the truth. How’s the food?”

He pauses, swallowing the food in his mouth and answering with a subdued, sheepish smile:

“It’s too salty.”

FOUR

“Why are you leaving so early?” Jihyo’s voice crackles through your phone placed on your bed.

“Seokmin said he wanted to try out the croissants at the new bakery that opened nearby,” you reply, fiddling with the buttons of your shirt. “He also said he wanted to buy a baguette so that he could whack his roommate with it. Something about going all the way to Paris to buy it but his roommate used it to hammer a nail into the wall and broke it.”

A pause, and then, “Is his roommate okay in the head?”

“Good question.” You grin at your reflection in the mirror, pat down the hair at the back of your neck, and grab your phone. “I’m heading out now. I’ll text you later.”

“’kay,” your best friend says. “Tell Mingyu I said hi.”

“I will,” you say, but you already know you’re not going to greet him on behalf of her.

Things between you and Mingyu are… still pretty much the same, honestly. After that dinner fiasco, you’ve been too embarrassed to properly address him, and he’s not made much of an effort on his part. Or maybe you’ve been consciously avoiding him so much that he doesn’t get a chance to put his foot forward. Either way, your cheeks still burn up whenever you think of that night’s dinner, so for now, hiding in your room is quite possibly the only way you can prevent yourself from catching fire completely.

Stupid logic. You’re a grown adult, with the ability to make good judgements and make decisions. Unfortunately, your decisions are mostly borderline idiotic.

Shouldering your bag, you leave your room and head to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. There’s a Post-It note stuck on the refrigerator. Peeling it off the fridge’s door, you read it curiously.

Got some cookies from Minghao’s friend’s bakery. I’ve kept them in the pantry. Enjoy! :) 

Mingyu’s familiar scrawl is branded into your head, and seeing the yellow square of paper makes nostalgia bubble inside your chest like a bath bomb dropped into a bathtub filled with water. You pocket the note, and smile so widely, your cheeks hurt.

Maybe he’s put his foot forward, after all.

Seokmin is already waiting for you outside your apartment building by the time you go out. He grins at you, his eyes crinkling in the corners and teeth flashing happily. 

“Hi,” you greet him. “Did you wait long?”

“No.” Your co-worker shakes his head, still smiling. “I just got here, actually.”

“I’m glad.” You return his smile. “Should we head out?”

Seokmin nods. “Of course,” he says, and you fall into step with him. 

He has a never-ending list of topics to talk to you about—and for the most part, you’re glad that he’s so outgoing. In twenty minutes, you’ve learnt almost everything there is to know about his roommate, Jeonghan, his older sister, his fear of ladybugs (you snort out loud at that particular anecdote), and his favourite anime (Haikyu!! and One Piece). In return, you tell him about that time you and Jihyo accidentally walked into the wrong restroom at a bar, and how you got dumped by your high school crush because he thought you were better than him at playing basketball.

It’s comfortable. Talking to Seokmin always is. 

But you still don’t talk about Mingyu. You try hard to stop thinking of him, but he’s always there at the back of your mind, an unopened gift that you don’t unwrap. 

Finally, you and Seokmin round a corner and find yourselves standing in front of the just-opened bakery. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon wafts through the open door. An array of different types of breads and other desserts is placed carefully on a display at the counter, and the owner greets you with a welcoming smile.

“What do you want to have?” Seokmin asks, holding your elbow and leading you in.

You eye the basket of croissants. The buttery confection looks delicious, but so does the tray of muffins placed next to it. And the bagels placed beside the muffins. “I can’t decide.”

“How about one of everything?”

You glance at him to see if he’s joking, but Seokmin looks completely serious. “You’re kidding, right?” you say, grabbing his arm. “There’s no way I’m going to let you buy one of everything in this store!”

“I would,” Seokmin admits, a flush creeping up his neck, “if you asked me to.”

You groan. “Seokmin. Please don’t.”

“Alright, alright.” He raises his hands in defeat. “I’m just saying, if you wanted me to—”

“One croissant, please,” you interrupt, addressing the owner. “To go. And he will have…”

“Make that two croissants,” Seokmin finishes. “I’ll have whatever the lady’s having.”

“How gentlemanly of you.”

“I know.”

Seokmin pays for his croissant, and you pay for yours. The owner wraps them up and hands them to you, asking you to visit again. Once you exit, you unwrap yours and take a small bite. The bread is soft and melts in your mouth, leaving a sweet aftertaste. You take another bite, and it’s only then that you notice Seokmin looking at you, a corner of his lips turned upwards in a crooked smile and one hand in his pocket.

“What?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious. “Do I have crumbs on my face?”

“No,” he replies. “I just… I would really love to do this again, Y/N.”

Oh.

Seokmin looks at you so hopefully. Like he’s been waiting for this opportunity for a long time. Like he needs to get something off his chest. Like he never wants this moment to end.

“...I’d like that, too,” you say.

Somehow, the words leave a bitter taste in your mouth, one that even another mouthful of the sweet snack can’t erase.

FIVE

It’s getting late, and yet Kim Mingyu is hellbent on getting you to keep him company. The worst part is that it’s working—though you would never admit that to him.

Being friends with your ex isn’t that uncommon. You and Mingyu can be friends. But how long are you willing to put up with this ruse before it all blows up in your faces? Friendship between two people who used to date isn’t that much of a big deal—but that’s just it, isn’t it? You and Mingyu weren’t just two people who used to date.

How did you even let him talk you into spending time with him? Or maybe that’s all on you; you’ve never been able to say no to him. One minute you’re looking at his face and remembering the lasagne gone wrong, the next he’s asking if you want to watch a movie with him. Except neither of you have updated your Netflix subscription, so this was a bad idea all along.

Maybe talking to Mingyu is a bad idea. 

Maybe you should go back to your old ways, locking yourself up in your room and only acknowledging his presence when you happen to cross paths. 

But the socialite in you nags, what if he thinks you’re some kind of hermit who only comes out to eat and drink? Besides, he’s here now, right next to you on the sofa—keeping a respectable distance between your bodies—as he watches a rerun of America’s Next Top Model because it was the least shitty thing playing on all the channels you scrounged through fifteen minutes ago. 

Normally, you would be elated at the idea of poking fun at random reality shows, expressing your exasperation at the poorly-written scripted drama and the even worse acting. But even if the showoff between two aspiring models both named Jessica and sporting the same colour of fake tan and bleached blonde hair was somewhat interesting, you find your gaze keeps wandering to your ex-boyfriend.

You trace the contours of his face with your eyes—the cheekbones that jut out only slightly, the furrow created on his forehead as his eyebrows kiss, the way his honey-brown eyes stare at the screen in front of him with a focused intensity. Even the way his lips curve ever-so slightly upwards, despite him pressing them together, has you recalling just how soft they felt against your own. 

His warm, soft skin. The prominent collarbone that you used to press small kisses to whenever you wanted to get his attention. The moles scattered all over his body, creating a canvas for you to paint on by tracing them with your fingers. The flex of his fingers as he bunches them into a loose fist.

Everything about him is so familiar, yet so foreign at the same time.

Even this semblance of friendship that has bridged the drawn-out distance between you both feels strange—as though somewhere in the back of your subconscious, you recognise that this camaraderie is either a really good thing or could go extremely wrong. You’re in the middle of that bridge, trying your best not to lean too much to the right or to the left, but even a slight misstep could lead to everything going downhill.

“Are you rooting for Jessice H. or Jessica C.?”

“Huh?” You blink, escaping your haze of thoughts. “I’m sorry—which one is which?”

Mingyu glances at you with a deadpan expression. “We’ve been watching them trying to one up each other for the past ten minutes.”

“Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. “Both of them look the same to me.”

“Fair enough,” he acquiesces, before returning his focus to the show. “It’s the fake tan, isn’t it? Although the hair is similar too… No wonder they’ve been arguing about who put on their mascara better—it looks identical.” 

You play along. ���Or maybe it’s the supposed Gucci belts. I had no idea Gucci made handbags with fake crocodile skin.”

“The more you know…”

You laugh at that, and Mingyu looks at you—really looks, the same way he used to when you made a bad joke and giggled at it yourself. He looks at you with adoration written all over his face, in the upward twist of his lips and the crinkling in the corners of his eyes.

You clamp your mouth shut immediately, feeling a sense of nostalgia, longing and wistfulness seep into your skin, through your flesh and settle deep into your bones. 

Too much. It’s too much, and it’s way too early, and you don’t want to dwell on anything at the moment. So you do what you do best: You hide.

You tear your gaze off him and rub your palms on your old jeans. You hear Mingyu’s sharp intake of breath, but you force yourself not to look, not to think about him. 

“Hey, uh—I was supposed to call Jihyo right now,” you lie, and even you think it sounds lame coming out of your mouth, so there’s no way Mingyu can’t see through it.

“Y/N,” is all he says. 

You hate the way your chest clenches—just because he said your name—but what can you do? Escape the situation and never bring up the obvious elephant in the room?

Yeah. That’s exactly what you do. Making decisions isn’t your forte, but you’ll deal with the consequences of your actions later. Much, much later, if you can avoid it for as long as you’re living here.

You get up and make a beeline for your room, and Kim Mingyu doesn’t say anything to make you stop.

SIX

Whenever you faltered, Jihyo was your voice of reason. She would help you back to your feet, give you a solid nudge on your shoulder and list out the pros and cons of everything, allowing you to formulate your own opinion and come to a decision.

She isn’t being very helpful right now.

“Think about it,” she reasons. “Before, he was your ex. Now, he’s the guy you live with. You have to talk to him, no matter what.”

She’s right. She knows you know she’s right. You still refuse to acknowledge it, because pride comes before a fall, but you haven’t fallen yet. It’s more like you’re dangling off the precipice.

“How’s Jaehyun?” you say instead, referring to the guy she’s been crushing on ever since she moved to the new city.

Jihyo lets out an unimpressed sigh, the grainy image of her face on your phone screen contorting slightly. “Don’t think you’re being super smart by changing the topic, Y/N. And he’s fine. We went out for boba the other day.”

“Yeah?” You play with the fraying edge of the duvet thrown over your body. “That’s nice.”

Jihyo hums, pushing some of her hair behind her ear. “And then he asked if we could hook up.”

You guffaw. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She nods vigorously, affirming her statement. “I said no, obviously.”

“Why? Afraid he’s too much to handle?”

“Please,” your best friend snorts. “Have you seen him? I think I’m too much for him to handle. He couldn’t even pay for the boba without tearing his pocket because he was too enthusiastic in getting his wallet out.”

You smile thinly. Jihyo might be poking fun at the man, but you can tell from the twinkle in her eyes and the way her voice is filled with infectious joy that she’s enamoured by him. You wish you could meet him in person. Instead, you have to settle for checking out his Instagram profile.

“Anyway,” she continues, stifling a yawn, “it’s late and I have to head out tomorrow. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” you say. “Good night. Don’t dream of Jaehyun.”

She flips her middle finger at you and you roll your eyes, pressing the end button. Just when you’re about to fluff your pillow so you can lie down, you hear a knock on your door.

“Y/N?” Mingyu sounds remarkably active, considering the fact that it’s currently fifteen minutes past midnight. “Are you awake?”

Curiosity compels you to answer honestly, “Yeah. Is everything okay?” 

You tread over to the door, swinging it open. Mingyu is in his sweatpants—a pair you know he only wears for bed—and a loose graphic T-shirt. You’re wearing pretty much the same attire, except your shirt is an old one, worn-out from your high school days, and it doesn't fit you that well anymore. You tug the hem over your hips consciously.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, everything’s okay. I was just…” He pauses, raising a hand and ruffling his hair. “Do you wanna get some ice cream?”

Of all possible things you expected Mingyu to ask you, this certainly wasn’t one of them. You blink, bemused. 

“Or—or we don’t have to,” he backtracks, when you don’t say anything immediately. “I was just craving something sweet, that’s all—”

“Okay,” you say, surprising yourself with your answer. Mingyu is trying to extend the olive branch you placed in between you both, and you have to appreciate that. Regardless of your personal feelings. Besides, Jihyo was right—he’s the guy you live with, and you need to be able to spend time with him. As friends. Nothing more.

“Okay.” He exhales, relieved. “It’s right across the street.”

“I think I know the one you’re talking about.”

The ice cream parlour is a ten-minute walk from your apartment, but walking with Mingyu makes time fly. He says something about mint chocolate being an underrated flavour, and you insinuate that it deserves to be, and just like that, conversation flows between you both as though your past is some kind of a fever dream.

Where Seokmin is a bright ray of sunshine lighting up your way on a cloudy day, Mingyu is moonlight, skittering over your figure and providing solace in the dark. Seokmin is infectious laughter and gleeful smiles; Mingyu is whispered jokes and shared silence.

Perhaps it’s those very qualities that made you fall so hard for the man next to you. You know for sure it’s those very qualities that still have you in his grip, even though he doesn’t know it. Maybe that’s why talking to him is awkward—because how do you move on from someone who captured your heart and kept it for safe-keeping but know that there’s one big, gaping hole in your chest where his heart is supposed to be? Even now, a small part of you belongs to Mingyu, like a little token which he’s kept locked up and hidden the key.

Six months is a long time, but neither you nor Mingyu seems to be able to bring up what happened. Maybe it’s for the best, you think. You would rather have a small bit of this domesticity that feels familiar than have everything blow up in your face because of the harsh words you exchanged.

You ignore the tightening in your chest and focus on the warmth pooling in your stomach when Mingyu grins and offers you a chance to redeem yourself when it comes to good ice cream flavours. You say mint chocolate is tolerable, but only because Mingyu likes it.

SEVEN

Seokmin drops by your cubicle almost every day now. He offers to drop you back home, too.

Each time, you smile but decline politely. You still feel guilty about saying that you would like to spend more time with him as well—but in your defence, you didn’t really lie; you do want to spend more time with him, but only as a friend. Seokmin didn’t specify how exactly he wants to go out with you.

It’s getting harder to say no, however. Seokmin is everything if not persistent, and his determination to take you out has you crumbling under his forlorn gaze and pleading words.

He doesn’t make your heart beat faster, or make butterflies erupt inside your belly. Being with Seokmin doesn’t come with bright fireworks or flashy songs. It’s finding the extraordinary in the mundane, and laughing yourselves silly over jokes that aren’t even that funny.

So. It’s not Mingyu, but Seokmin is nice and friendly and stable, and you think you can fall for him. You and Mingyu aren’t going to cross the threshold of friends ever again, anyway. There’s nothing stopping you from going out with Seokmin.

“Okay,” you say when he asks you again, a half-resigned look on his face when he assumes you’ll just say no again. 

The way his expression morphs to elation is worth it, you think. He surges forward, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a tight hug. “Thank you,” he whispers into your ear, and the joy he feels is infectious—as most good things with Seokmin are—so it’s no surprise that your cheeks are already hurting from smiling too hard.

When you update Jihyo about the latest turn of events, she tuts disapprovingly and says, “Have you told Mingyu?”

“No,” you say, feeling defensive. “I don’t have to tell him, do I?”

Your best friend waits for a beat. “You don’t, I guess.”

Mingyu interrupts your call then, and you quickly tell Jihyo you’ll text her later. He stands in the living room, holding up a pair of button down shirts, one in each hand, forehead creased and mouth downturned.

You lean against your doorway, amused. “You called?”

His face clears as he looks at you, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “I have this work event I need to attend tomorrow, but I don’t know what to wear.”

You observe the shirts he’s holding up. One is cream in colour, long-sleeved and ironed neatly. The other is black, with a thin white stripe along the collar and sleeves.

“The black one,” you say immediately. And then feel your cheeks heat up with your quick answer. In your defence, Kim Mingyu has always looked alarmingly handsome in black. Objectively speaking.

“I haven’t worn this one in a long time.” He brings it close to his face, squinting at it. “It probably stinks.”

“Smell it, then,” you say, chuckling at the mortified look on Mingyu’s face. “What? You’re telling me you’ve never worn your underwear inside out because you forgot to do the laundry? This isn’t that different.”

“I have never done anything of the sort.” He sniffs petulantly at you, before his eyes narrow. “Wait. Does that mean you’ve worn your underwear inside out?”

You wrinkle your nose. “Gross. I thought you knew me better than that.”

Mingyu tenses up at your offhand comment, and you look down, wondering why that even slipped out of your mouth in the first place. Of course you screw everything up just when things are going decently well. 

“I do,” he mumbles. “I do know you better than that.” When you look at him, he has a wan smile on his lips. “Which is why I’m going to trust your judgement and wear the black shirt. Even if it’s musty from sitting in the back of my closet for so long.”

“Oh, shut up,” you huff, walking over to him and grabbing the cloth out of his hand. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

He only raises a single eyebrow at you.

That’s what prompts you to sniff at it. At his goddamn shirt. Like you’re one of those police dogs they use to find missing people.

It… doesn’t smell unpleasant. A little bit musty, like Mingyu said, but that can be attributed to him not wearing it often. Mostly, it smells of faint fabric softener and deodorant—and underneath it all, a scent that is solely Mingyu’s. (Pine and citrus and lavender, all mixed together, in a way that only Mingyu can pull off.)

“It smells fine,” you say, shoving it into Mingyu’s chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m not the one who grabbed it and shoved my face into it,” he says, “so who’s the real dramatic one here?”

“I didn’t shove my face into it!” You swat at his shoulder, but he laughs and dodges, eyes twinkling with playfulness.

“If you say so,” he returns, still chuckling to himself.

“When is this event?” 

“Tomorrow evening,” he answers.

“Both of us won’t be at home then,” you say, and he raises an eyebrow. “I… have a date tomorrow,” you explain, and regret it almost instantly. Why are you even telling him that? He doesn’t need to know.

“Oh,” is all he says, followed by a quieter, “Have fun.”

EIGHT

Seokmin picks you up at exactly six o’clock, wearing a loose button down shirt and slacks, and his hair styled carefully. He perks up as soon as you wave at him, jogging over to you with a smile.

“Hey,” he greets you. “You look good.”

You return his smile, tugging at the edge of your blouse and smoothing out your skirt. “Thank you. So do you.”

Seokmin’s grin brightens, which you didn’t even think was possible. “Thanks,” he says, and then gently takes hold of your elbow. “So… the plan for today is to take you out for dinner, and then a movie. How does that sound?”

“It sounds… good,” you say, letting him lead the way. It’s basic, yes, but you’re a firm believer in clichés—there’s a reason they become popular, after all.

He doesn’t stop talking, and neither do you. Throughout the entire half an hour dinner in some hole-in-the-wall diner that Seokmin discovered a month ago and serves the best blue lemonade mojitos you’ve ever tasted, and the entire two hour movie that’s way too boring for you to focus on the screen anyway, you and your co-worker keep up an endless stream of banter and silly anecdotes and you find yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would.

It’s refreshing, and when you and Seokmin finally make the walk back to your apartment, you find it difficult to let go of his hand. He pulls you to a stop in front of the building, rubbing his thumb gently across the back of your hand. 

His smile is as bright as ever, albeit tinged with slight disappointment. “So. I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, nodding. “Thank you for today, Seokmin. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” he returns. “Listen, I—”

He’s interrupted by someone stumbling across the sidewalk—not someone, you realise. It’s two people, tightly coiled around each other in a manner that is entirely indecent for the public eye. But as they trip around one another—still holding each other tightly—your heart sinks deep into the pit of your stomach.

One of them is Mingyu.

The other person is some girl, hair falling loosely across her face, Mingyu’s fingers tangled into her tresses, while his other hand bunches up the material of her dress at her waist. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and you don’t tear your eyes away until Seokmin makes a noise of disgust.

He turns around, blocking your view of them and takes both your hands in his. “I… I’ll call you. Okay?”

You nod numbly. “Okay.”

Seokmin leaves with a bright smile and a lingering kiss on your cheek. You plaster a smile onto your lips until he moves out of your line of sight, after which you begin the arduous trek back to your—Mingyu’s—apartment. Normally, the three floors you climb aren’t much of a strenuous task; tonight, however, every step you take makes you feel like your legs are made of lead. 

You fumble in your purse for your key, the image of Mingyu kissing that girl not leaving your mind. It’s not supposed to hurt, you’re not supposed to be bothered by it. But it stings, like the biting cold on a freezing winter morning, making your fingers stiff and your ears chilly.

You hear footsteps right when you twist the key into the lock.

The last thing you see before you enter the apartment is Mingyu clambering up the staircase, clearly drunk but surprisingly upright. He has a lipstick stain leading from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, his hair is tousled—no doubt from someone running their hands through his silky locks—and his shirt is untucked and wrinkled.

He opens his mouth to say something, but you grab the door handle and step inside, because the last thing you want to confront is the fact that your feelings for Kim Mingyu might not be as forgotten as you believe.

Which is fine, all things considered, except Kim Mingyu doesn’t give a damn.

You let the door slam shut behind you before Mingyu can get in. Technically, it’s his house. Technically, he’s the one who has the right to lock you out.

Technically, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum, and technically, Mingyu is allowed to kiss whomever the fuck he wants. 

You wish Jihyo was here. She would ground you, make you see everything calmly and rationally. But she’s been having boy problems of her own (Jeong Jaehyun, who is decidedly not as romantic as Jihyo was led to believe), and the last thing you want is to dump your boy problems on her.

Besides, it’s no big deal. Right?

Mingyu lives here. He should have his own copy of the keys. He’s also drunk. (Drunk and half-laid, your mind helpfully reminds.)

Before you start overthinking about letting the door close behind you, you decide that what you really need is a warm shower. So you let your feet lead you to the bathroom directly, and don’t allow thoughts of ex-boyfriends and overly friendly co-workers to enter your brain.

You don’t hear the sound of keys turning in the lock the entire night, but you shove down the guilt that bubbles up your throat. It’s Mingyu’s fault for not carrying them with him wherever he goes; you’re not his caretaker, anyway. 

Your phone pings with a text message from Seokmin, and you pick it up.

(19:47) Seokmin: I had a great time today. Thanks for coming with me :) 

Despite the fact that you only have a towel wrapped around your body, and the fact that your hair is dripping wet, you feel a tingling warmth creep up your chest. 

NINE

Monday is a horrible day.

You woke up half an hour later than usual, which led to you rushing through your morning routine. Your clothes aren’t ironed, which is fine usually, but the shirt you pick doesn’t tuck in quite right and you don’t have the time to change it. You almost tripped over the curb in your rush to get to work and nearly spilled a cup of coffee—which is far too sweet for your liking, due to the dollop of sugar you added by accident—all over yourself. Your manager, Choi Seungcheol, doesn’t approve of the project portfolio you compiled, and the deadline is fast approaching, which means more late nights for you.

And to top it all off, your car engine won’t fucking start.

You’re really not in the mood for Seokmin and his exuberant enthusiasm, which is something he probably catches onto, considering the fact that he stands silently next to you, waiting for you to finish cursing the piece of metal you call a car. Once you’re done resisting the urge to burn down the automobile, Seokmin places a placating hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, training a concerned gaze over your figure. “I can drop you back home.”

“No, it’s fine,” you mutter sullenly. “I’ll just call a cab or something.”

“Y/N, please. It’s no trouble.” He pauses, and you glance at him, at the sympathetic crease of his forehead and the genuinity reflected in his eyes. It’s touching, and Seokmin flashes you a small smile. “I was gonna head over that way anyway—I wanted to get some stuff from that bakery we went to.”

“I—” You hesitate, and he takes the chance to slide in.

“You call the mechanic. I’ll wait for you in my car, okay?”

He scurries away, leaving you biting your lip and staring at your phone. You should probably call Mingyu; he can help. Knowing him, he would probably want to help, regardless of who was asking him. Instead, you search up the nearest mechanic shop and dial in their number, giving them the details of where you are. They arrive a couple of minutes later, and you watch as they hook your car onto their big tow truck and drive away.

Seokmin waves you over to his car, a sleek Hyundai that's probably a few years old but still looks brand new. He opens the door to the passenger seat with a smile before grabbing the stack of folders you had kept clutched to your chest. You let him take them. You’re far too tired to argue.

Briefly, your mind wanders to Mingyu—what he would do if you had told him. Probably run all the way here, your brain supplies, prompting a wry smile to form on your lips. You press them together when you think of Mingyu with that girl immediately afterwards.

The drive to your house is silent, only the rumble of Seokmin’s car and the soft noise of some interview playing on the radio filling the silence. He pulls to a stop near your apartment, bundles up your work folders in his arms and gestures for you to lead the way to your flat. 

The door swings open before you get the chance to pull out your key. Mingyu stands opposite you, dishevelled—just woken up from a nap, it seems. His mouth parts when he sees Seokmin standing behind you.

“Who’s this?” he asks by way of greeting.

You shift uncomfortably, wanting to say something, but the words stick to your throat like you’ve swallowed chewing gum. Seokmin reaches out from next to you, and you don’t need to see him to know he’s positively beaming.

“Hi, I’m Seokmin,” he says. “I work with Y/N.”

Mingyu shakes his hand, eyes roaming quizzically between you and Seokmin. “Nice to meet you,” he says distractedly. “I’m Mingyu, Y/N’s… roommate. And ex—”

“Come on in, Seokmin.” You glare at Mingyu. He only raises an eyebrow in retaliation. Seokmin coughs slightly, blows out a puff of air, and follows you inside.

“You can just…” You wave your hand around vaguely. Gritting your teeth does nothing to bring you out of your haze. It only exacerbates it.

“Did something happen?” Mingyu moves aside, but you feel his eyes on the back of your neck.

“Y/N’s car broke down,” Seokmin supplies. “It’s at the mechanic’s right now, so I offered to drop her back home.”

“I see.” His next statement is directed at you. “You could’ve called me. I would have come.”

It’s only then that you turn around and face him. He doesn’t move, gaze locked unwaveringly on your hunched-over figure. It’s almost like he’s challenging you to say something.

“I know that,” is all you say, voice low.

Mingyu nods. “Good.”

You avert your attention to Seokmin. He appears lost, gaping at both of you as though he can’t quite catch onto what’s going on. “Let’s go to my room, Seokmin. You can leave my stuff there.”

“Okay.” Seokmin nods, giving Mingyu a hesitant smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mingyu.”

“You too.”

It’s a tiny exchange, but it’s enough to cause a fissure inside your heart. Seokmin is always so nice. He gives out niceness like he’s handing out free candy to toddlers. The only time you’ve ever seen him get remotely angry was when another co-worker of yours forgot a pen drive containing a crucial presentation to an important client—even then, all he did was level a glare at her before calmly asking for a backup drive to be brought.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is like a burning ember. Calm one minute, and angry the next—and it’s the reason you love him, but it’s also the reason you broke things off. You and Mingyu are far too similar, hot-headed and careless to a fault, like two candle flames competing to see who can burn their wick the fastest. You didn’t burn the wick. You ended up burning each other instead. Let it not be said that playing with fire isn’t one of your specialties.

Seokmin lets out a breath that sounds like a huff and a sigh simultaneously as soon as he enters your room. “You can leave the stuff here,” you say, pointing at your desk.

He obliges, carefully placing the stack on the table. “That’s your roommate, huh? Y’know, when you said that you were living with someone you didn’t like, I didn’t think you meant your ex-boyfriend.”

You look away, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s… difficult. I needed a place to live and he was the only person who offered on short notice. It just happened.”

Seokmin nods understandingly, lips pursed in thought. “He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agree. “One of the nicest people I know.”

“Yeah?” Your co-worker lifts one corner of his lips in an amused half-smile. “What does that make me?”

The answer is on the tip of your tongue. You know Seokmin is expecting it. Hell, you’re expecting the words to just come out. The nicest guy of them all. That’s all you have to say.

“You’re… Lee Seokmin.” 

The words are flat on your tongue. Seokmin’s expression falls—just the tiniest bit, a crack in the foundation—but you feel a terrible weight in your stomach, pulling you down, down, down until your head sinks below the surface of the metaphorical waves and the water erases your existence. 

Seokmin is a nice guy—you know that, and you’ve reiterated it so many times. The only thing stopping you from being in a proper relationship with him is your ex-boyfriend, only separated from you by a wooden door and cement walls. Mingyu doesn’t like you anymore, not in the way he used to, and it’s clearly time for you to stop dwelling on what you had.

You swallow, looking at Seokmin directly. “And…” You take a step closer to him. “I consider myself lucky to have met you.”

Seokmin looks at you, his gaze unsteady, but he takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” His throat bobs when he speaks, and that’s how you know he’s nervous.

“Yeah,” you confirm, letting his fingers slip in between yours. 

He shuffles closer to you, and you can smell his woody cologne intermingled with sweat. You can count the moles on his face, see your reflection in his pupils. 

“Y/N, I really want to kiss—”

There’s a knock on your door, and you and Seokmin jump away from each other like a pair of schoolchildren getting caught doing something you’re not supposed to. Seokmin looks down at his feet; you clear your throat before letting out a hoarse, “Yes?”

“You left your phone outside,” Mingyu calls. “The mechanic just called.”

“Oh, um. I’ll be right there.” You turn back to Seokmin, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Of all possible times for Mingyu to be a cockblocker, why now? “S-sorry about that.”

“No, it’s—you’re fine,” he stammers out, clearly as out of it as you are. “I should probably leave too, I still need to stop by the bakery.”

“Oh, yeah!” you say. “I forgot. Do you want me to come with you?”

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s getting dark outside and you need to get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you murmur. “Thank you for today, Seokmin. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“Cursed your car to oblivion, probably,” he teases.

You flush, heat creeping up the back of your neck and ears. “That—you didn’t have to see that.”

“I thought it was cute,” he returns easily, corners of his lips twitching. 

Against your will, your lips twitch upwards too. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Seokmin opens your door, and you follow him out of your room. He gives Mingyu a grin, says, “See you around,” and lets you close the door behind him. 

Mingyu crosses his arms over his chest. You glance at him. His eyebrows are knotted together, lips pressed into a stoic line. You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling awkward.

“Hey,” he begins, voice soft, “is that… your boyfriend?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Does it matter?”

He huffs, shifting from one foot to the other. “Yes—no. No, it doesn’t matter. I was just curious, okay?”

You open your mouth, then close it, at a loss for words. Are you and Seokmin together? Not really. Both of you haven’t done or said anything to define your relationship—if there is one in the romantic sense, at least. Seokmin wanted to kiss you, but Mingyu interrupted before anything could even happen—it’s your irritation at the day being shitty, and Mingyu being an asshole after everything he did that makes you roll your eyes at him and snap at him. “It’s none of your business.”

Mingyu’s face turns stony, a hardness to his features that you’ve only seen a few times before—it was directed at you the last time, too. “Okay. Fine. Sorry I asked.”

“Are you?” you retort, and before he can say anything to retaliate, you storm back into your room and lock the door.

Your heart feels like it’s been split into two, one half yearning for the comfort and familiarity that comes with still liking Mingyu, and the other excited to explore what Seokmin could offer you—and what he already has offered. But for now, you decide to get some sleep. Your heart can wait.

TEN 

Jihyo is back.

Jihyo is fucking back, and she’s standing in your—Mingyu’s—living room, arms wide open and a grin on her lips so wide, her eyes crinkle in the corners. It takes all of your willpower not to launch yourself into her arms. Instead, you slow down, toe your shoes off, let your bag drop to the floor, and then launch yourself into her arms.

She laughs at your overzealous demeanour, and you giggle into her hair. God, you’d missed her. Texting every day and video calling every weekend can only do so much, and it’s nothing compared to seeing her in person.

“Hi,” she says, pulling back enough to escape your cage-like hold around her body.

“Hi,” you greet back, smiling so wide and so hard, you can feel your ears pop. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” She confirms your statement by nodding. “Only for a week, though.”

“Ah.”

Your best friend lets out a sheepish chuckle, and you take a step back. Her suitcase is on the floor next to her, and she’s kept her backpack on the sofa. “Are you gonna stay here?” you ask.

She winces. “No, there isn’t much space here. I booked a room at a hotel nearby. It’s, like, ten minutes by walk from here and it’s not very expensive either,” she assures.

“Okay,” you say, a little deflated. If Jihyo stayed with you, at least the awkwardness between you and Mingyu might be reduced by a small fraction. Her overbearing nature and ability to make conversation with literally anyone would be a lifesaver, given the situation you’ve dug yourself into.

A situation that she knows nothing about.

You haven’t had the time to keep Jihyo updated about the latest turn of events—not when she was busy juggling a relationship with her sort-of boyfriend, Jeong Jaehyun. She doesn’t know about Seokmin, and she doesn’t know about your lingering feelings for Mingyu.

“Hey, you’re back already.”

Speak of the devil. 

You turn around and find Mingyu leaning against the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. You feel your breath hitch. He continues, “I guess Jihyo already beat me to it, huh?”

“You knew she was coming?” you ask him, almost accusatory. 

“You didn’t tell her?” Jihyo echos, a curious tinge to her tone.

He lifts his shoulder in a half-shrug, lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile. “Wanted to surprise you, that’s all.”

Against your will, you find yourself grinning at him. Mingyu dissolves in the slightest—a small hint of surprise—before he grins back at you, teeth flashing and eyes crinkling. Jihyo lets out a small huff from next to you, but you know nothing can put a damper on your mood right now. Not even your resurfaced feelings for Mingyu, nor your newfound ones for Seokmin.

Your best friend squeezes your arm. “I have some time before I need to check in at the hotel. Do you wanna check out our old place?”

You turn to her and nod. The prospect of going back to the place where you created cherished memories with someone so dear to you is enticing; then you remember your car is still at the mechanic’s. “My car is out of commission.”

Jihyo only turns and stares at Mingyu. He sighs resignedly, pushing himself off the doorway and heading inside his room. “Let me grab my keys.”

“Might as well stop for ice cream along the way,” Jihyo calls out gleefully to his retreating back. 

You gulp. This… might not be a good idea. If Mingyu tags along with you, this would be the first time since last week where you’re speaking to him normally, making conversation that isn’t just along the lines of “Did you do the laundry?” or “I bought some vegetables”. Of course, if you told Jihyo what happened, she would immediately make sure Mingyu doesn’t come. You chew on your bottom lip, but before you can come to a decision, Mingyu emerges from his bedroom, car keys dangling off his fingers.

“Ready?” he asks.

Jihyo grabs onto your arm, excitement so visible on her face that it prompts the tension in your own features to melt away. You let yourself get carried away by her giddiness, not noticing the fond glances the only male in the group keeps giving you whenever he’s sure you’re not looking. If you’d met his eyes once throughout the drive to your old place, you’d see the way his eyes still twinkle at you with the same intensity as they did months ago, but you’re too busy catching up with Jihyo to notice.

Mingyu pulls to a stop in front of your old apartment building—a dilapidated structure that’s not half as modern as the current building you stay in. At least the elevator is still functioning; you purse your lips to contain your laugh when Mingyu looks at it, eyebrows raised in visible astonishment. Jihyo grips your hand tightly when you reach your floor. You tighten your hold on her hand as well, feeling a sudden burst of emotion erupt inside your chest like lava escaping from a volcano.

You and Jihyo round the corner to the apartment that used to be yours, Mingyu following closely. The door is the same dull brown it was back then as well, but someone has put in the effort to redo the varnish. There’s a potted fern next to it as well. 

You let out a shuddering breath. Jihyo wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close; you aren’t sure if it’s just the wind rattling through the open window, but you hear something like a sniffle.

This is the place you lived in when you had your first boyfriend, when you had your first heartbreak, when you cried your lungs out at some stupid TV show that you were invested in at the time but can’t possibly remember the name of now. This is the place where you and Jihyo bonded over crappy supermarket deals and made a mess of the kitchen whenever you tried to learn how to cook something new.

This is the place where you first met Kim Mingyu.

You tilt your head at him, watch as he stares resolutely ahead of him, like if glares at it strongly enough, he can bore two holes straight through the wood. Eventually, his eyes land on yours.

His lips part but no words come out. He offers you a small smile instead, one so tender and heart-warming and achingly familiar. You blink, and the moment is gone. You’re left with the same sense of wistfulness and longing that you always feel around him. 

Jihyo squeezes your shoulder, eyes shining. “Should we ring the bell?” she asks, and then presses the doorbell before you can respond.

A muffled “Coming!” from inside, and the latch is pulled open to reveal a college student—a few years younger than you, perhaps, with sleep bags underneath his eyes and a cup of coffee clutched to his chest. He looks confused—as anyone would be, you suppose, when you see a random bunch of strangers standing on your doorstep—but his expression clears when Jihyo explains who you are and why you’re here.

He says he’s living here with his boyfriend and their pet cat—a beautiful Siberian who coils itself around his legs, tail upturned—and you feel your heart swell with the knowledge that your old haven is being taken care of well. Jihyo consistently badgers him with questions and he answers each one patiently, to his credit. 

A flicker of uncertainty crosses your mind, however. Does Mingyu not remember this? He was looking for apartments in this building, too, when you met him. Doesn’t he remember the old landlady conversing with you? Doesn’t he remember the way people constantly asked if you two were together, which is what even prompted him to ask for your number in the first place? 

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when you feel a slight pressure on your shoulder. Mingyu’s hand is on your shoulder. Your gaze flits over to him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles, ducking his head. “There was a mosquito.”

He’s lying. 

He remembers. 

ELEVEN

“Spill.”

“The… tea?” you ask cautiously, looking at Jihyo. She’s holding a steaming mug of tea in her hand.

“You think you’re so funny.” She rolls her eyes.

“I know I am,” you quip, and she rolls her eyes again, taking a sip of the beverage.

“You’ve been distracted since yesterday,” she states matter-of-factly. “Since we went to our old place.” Her voice quietens, “Is it Mingyu? Did he do something?”

You eye her warily, sitting down on the plush armchair opposite her. “No,” you say.

“Then what is it? Did—did you not want me here?”

“No.” You’re quick to alleviate her concerns. “Of fucking course I wanted you here. I missed you. So much.”

Your best friend smiles at that, swirling the tea in the mug. “But something’s bothering you.”

“...Yes.” You admit it slowly, playing with your fingers splayed out on your lap. “It’s not important. You’re here only for a few days, we should do something fun.”

“Y/N,” Jihyo says slowly, enunciating every syllable of your name like she’s speaking to a troublesome child, “if you’re worried about me feeling bad or anything, please don’t. I want to help you.”

You wave her away. “You have your own shit to deal with.”

“What, you mean Jaehyun?” She snorts. “I’m over him. I was over him ages ago.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Just.” You look down at your feet. “You really liked him, didn’t you?”

Jihyo cocks her head to the side, studying you carefully. “Yes. I did. What about it?”

Your shoulder slump, dejectedness seeping into your figure. “How… did you do it?” You glance up at her, note the way she observes you carefully. Your voice is almost pleading when you continue, “How did you get over him?”

Your best friend’s expression clears, comprehension dawning on her face. She places her mug down, leaning forward and clasping your hand with hers. “It’s Mingyu, isn’t it?”

You shake your head miserably. “Not just him.”

“There’s someone else?” She doesn’t sound surprised, only intrigued and concerned.

You take a deep breath, lock gazes with her—and everything comes spilling out of your mouth like the tide receding into the ocean. You tell her everything, about Mingyu and Seokmin and how conflicted they make you feel; how one is like the living personification of sunlight on a gloomy day, and the other reminds you of clouds providing shade on a hot afternoon. You tell her about how guilty you feel, as though you’re leading Seokmin to believe that you’re ready for a committed relationship when a part of your heart still belongs to Mingyu. You speak until the words end up garbled and slurred, and your breathing turns heavy and salt water streaks across your cheeks, your best friend rubbing them away with the pad of her thumb.

When you don’t know what to say, Jihyo pulls you into a hug—it’s an awkward position, your elbows locked around her arms while your neck is bent at an odd angle, but it’s comforting, and you let your eyes close tiredly. 

“Y/N,” she says, rubbing her thumb on your shoulder soothingly. “I know it’s hard for you to decide, but you have to know: What do you want?”

The question makes you contemplate. What do you want? 

“I don’t know,” is all you can get out, slumping further into her arms.

She hums softly. “But you’ll figure it out. I know you will.”

Will you? You’re not so sure. Maybe when the time is right. But for now, you rest your chin on your best friend’s shoulder and let her rub circles onto your skin.

You pull back when the position becomes too uncomfortable—you can already feel a crick in your neck—and Jihyo wraps her fingers around her discarded mug. She raises it in a half-hearted toast. “To sexy girls who don’t need men in their lives.”

You giggle, rubbing your eyes. “Men are pieces of shit, anyway.”

“Damn right they are,” she croons, falling dramatically back onto the couch. “We should just get married instead.”

“If you propose to me the right way, maybe I’ll consider it.”

Jihyo grins at you, and it’s infectious enough to make you grin back at her. “Consider it done,” she says. “I have a ring in my nightstand drawer with your name written on it.”

“If it’s not pure diamond, I won’t accept.”

“Tsk. So greedy.”

TWELVE

Introducing Seokmin to Jihyo was not a part of your agenda for the week.

But it’s Seokmin and it’s Jihyo, so really, what else did you expect? Both of them integrated themselves seamlessly into your life, and they have no plans of leaving anytime soon. Might as well get the introductions over with.

Ironically, it happens when you go to collect your car from the mechanic’s, and once they’ve exchanged names and small talk, Jihyo and Seokmin are inseparable. The former regals him with tales of your college shenanigans, while the latter listens enthusiastically, eyes flitting between you both amusedly.

“Okay, that’s enough,” you hurriedly interrupt the conversation, right before Jihyo can go into the messy details of how you wanted to marry the toilet when you were drunk once and Mingyu had to physically carry you out of the house because you were convinced the white ceramic was proposing to you.

“You and Mingyu were together for a long time, huh?” Seokmin asks you quietly, once Jihyo is finished with her sulking at you interrupting her story. She’s at the side, conversing with someone on the phone, leaving you and your co-worker alone in front of your car.

You’re so startled by the question, you nearly drop your keys. “I—why do you ask?” 

Seokmin licks his lips, a seriousness to his figure that you haven’t witnessed many times before. “Just… curious, I suppose.”

You look down once, see how he’s twisted his fingers together—even the Lee Seokmin gets nervous, after all—and look back up at him. “Yes,” you admit softly, voice hitching slightly, “we were. We… were in love, I guess you could say.”

He’s silent for a minute, tongue darting out to lick his lips again. “And now?”

“I don’t know, Seokmin,” you answer him honestly. Your heart flutters inside your chest, while your stomach twists into tight knots—two reactions you didn’t think would go hand-in-hand, yet here you are, leaving your heart bare for Seokmin to take while gatekeeping a part of it to yourself.

He raises his head, warm eyes capturing yours. You see the smallest flicker of hope and sadness, two thin wisps of emotion dancing in his eyes—but even then, his lips are turned upwards, because it’s Lee Seokmin. 

“But you could try?” he asks, so softly you can barely catch the words.

You push down the emotions that threaten to swallow you whole, swirling around your entire body like the blood that flows through your veins. “I don’t know,” you say again, no less honest than the first time.

He opens his mouth, but Jihyo walks back to you both, mouth downturned. “My company said they need me back as soon as possible.” She says it calmly, but disappointment and bitterness seep into her voice.

For a moment, you freeze, and then ask, “When do you need to leave?”

“Tomorrow,” she answers with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders. “They’ve already booked the flight.”

“Okay.” You nod. “I’ll drop you to the airport.”

“I’ll come with,” Seokmin chimes in, and adds, in true Seokmin fashion, “Make sure Y/N doesn’t drive us all into a ditch or something.”

You shove his shoulder, muttering an “asshole” under your breath, and his smile only widens. Jihyo glances in between you both, lower lip caught between her teeth, before she sucks in a breath and smiles. “Good to know my best friend is in good hands.”

“The best hands, actually,” Seokmin teasingly corrects. 

You roll your eyes at the two of them. “Can we go home now, or not?”

“Home it is,” Jihyo agrees, “but first, I demand Taco Bell.”

“Fine,” you concede, letting her grab the keys from your outstretched palm. 

Seokmin grabs your hand once she clambers into your fixed car. His palm is broad, skin warm, and his fingers wrap around yours with ease. He squeezes your hand once, gently, and it feels like a promise and a farewell at the same time.

Seokmin asks you out again three days after Jihyo leaves. 

This time, he takes you out to an Italian restaurant. He’s dressed up in a suit and a bowtie—and actual blue velvet bowtie that sits snugly at the hollow of his neck—and he’s the perfect gentleman, pulling your chair out for you and pouring champagne into your glass like a professional. (When you compliment him on his drink-pouring skills, he just mutters bashfully about how his dad taught him that to please a lady, you need to be good at pouring drinks; it does nothing to ease the quickening pace of your heart.)

Lee Seokmin compliments your dress, says that that specific shade of pink looks beautiful on you. He recommends you try out their vegetable lasagne, says it’s one of the dishes the restaurant is famous for. He laughs about his favourite show, tells you he would love to rewatch it with you someday. He asks if you like gardens because his neighbour is trying to convince him to grow a rosebush outside his house, but he can’t look after plants even if his life depended on it. He wants to go out for ice cream afterwards, but the night is too chilly for the cold dessert so you opt against it.

Throughout, you play someone who’s on her first date, who thinks this is all there is and everything she’s been dreaming of has come true.

You would like to think you’re a good actor.

Kim Mingyu has seen you in nothing but sweatpants and old t-shirts and he used to whisper praises against your skin, flushed with sweat and sweet words. He ate the shitty lasagne you made without complaining, no matter how bad it tasted. He watched whatever was playing on television with you, just because he enjoyed your company and wanted to be wherever you were. He’s not particularly good with plants, but he has a little succulent named Spurt, making sure it gets enough sunlight and water. He likes mint chocolate ice cream, and would defend the flavour with his life.

Kim Mingyu and Lee Seokmin: Two sides of the same coin.

Jihyo’s question resonates in your mind as you and Seokmin walk back to your car.

What do you want?

As you near your vehicle, Seokmin puts a gentle hand on your arm. “Y/N,” is all he says, and you hate the way your chest clenches at that—just because he said your name.

“Did you have fun today?” he continues, eyes roaming over your features like he’s committing you to memory. Like a soldier leaving his wife before he heads out to the frontlines.

“I did, Seokmin. I really did.” You place your hand over his, tracing the veins on the back of his hand, pressing lightly on his knuckles; you need him to know that you truly enjoyed today—desperate for him to know, because it’s the least you can do for him after everything he’s done for you.

“Good,” he says. “I—I had fun today with you, too. I always have fun when I’m with you, Y/N.”

He bends down. You can feel his breath fan out on the shell of your ear and it makes you shiver. He turns his head, and his lips brush against your cheek. A small, soft farewell. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t—” you begin, feeling your voice begin to wobble.

“Don’t be sorry,” Seokmin whispers, but he sounds firm. “We’re still friends.”

Your heart plummets deep, deep down, a free fall that isn’t orchestrated by gravity. You think you know the answer to Jihyo’s question now.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to Seokmin.

THIRTEEN

The light is on when you enter the apartment. Mingyu’s figure lies hunched on the sofa, head in his hands, a half-empty beer can next to him. You quickly shuck off your heels and drop your purse onto the shoe rack.

Your ex-boyfriend looks at you when pad over to the living room. “You’re back.” He sounds hoarse, tired. 

“Have you been drinking?” you say in return, raising an eyebrow. 

Mingyu glances at the can in his hand then back at you. “Yeah. Long day.”

“Me too,” you admit quietly.

Perhaps it’s the quiet ambience of your shared home—silent, despite the noise of the city outside—that compels him; or maybe it’s the idea of coming home to someone you think you know better than the back of your own hand. Either way, when Mingyu pats the cushion beside him, your feet move automatically and you sit down, letting out a weary sigh.

It’s quiet, but not in the awkward sense. Not like back then, when Mingyu thought you and Seokmin were dating. Not even when you visited your old apartment. Exhaustion makes its home in your bones, and you suspect it’s taken over Mingyu too; there’s no way this shared piece of night can be so comfortable otherwise.

“Want some?” he asks after a few minutes.

“No thanks.”

Mingyu shrugs and puts the can down on the coffee table. “Wanna talk about it?” He leans back against the sofa, arms crossed behind his head.

“No,” you answer, and then, “Do you?”

“No.” He clears his throat, glancing sideways at you. “Were you with… Seokmin?”

“...Yes.”

You don’t have to look at Mingyu to know he’s clenching his jaw. It’s a pure rush of adrenaline that makes you ask, “Why does it bother you so much whenever I’m with him?”

Silence.

You turn your head, cheek brushing against the back of the sofa. Mingyu’s eyes are closed, hair falling in loose strands around his forehead and neck. You wonder what he’s thinking.

His answer excites you—in the rawest form possible. Anticipation builds up in your chest, threatens to explode through your windpipe. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but when he opens his eyes and meets your gaze, there is nothing you can do to stop your heart from rabbiting inside your rib cage.

“It doesn’t,” he says finally, an air of decisiveness about him.

For the second time that night, your heart plummets, and you tear your eyes off him. “Okay,” you say. “That is, um, good information to have.”

“Isn’t he your boyfriend?” 

“How does it matter to you?”

Mingyu crosses and uncrosses his ankles, this time staring resolutely at the floor. “I don’t know. It just does.”

You purse your lips. He isn’t being fair to you. “What about you?” you demand. “What about that girl you almost brought back home, huh?”

His mouth twitches. “You saw that.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.

“I’m not blind, Mingyu,” you retort.

Your roommate lets out a sardonic chuckle at that, slowly dragging his eyes up. “I highly doubt that.”

“What do you mean?” You scowl at him, feeling your chest begin to heave. “You—you’re like some kind of a riddle, Mingyu. I can never tell what you mean by anything, and it’s even worse now that you’re drunk and—”

“I’m not drunk, Y/N,” he interrupts. 

“I don’t care if you’re drunk or not—” you don’t realise your voice is caving in, growing softer and softer by the second— “stop saying things you don’t mean.”

“I want to kiss you,” he says finally. “I want to kiss you and I may be slightly drunk, but I don’t fucking care. And I mean it.”

You swallow, blood pounding through your veins. “Say that again.”

“What?” he says, sounding genuinely confused. His gaze never leaves your face, every ounce of earnestness and honesty written plainly on his features.

“Say it again,” you repeat.

“I want—”

You surge forward, capturing his lips with yours, pressing them firmly against his even when he lets out a muffled gasp. He doesn’t kiss back immediately, but his hands find their way to your waist, gripping tightly and crumpling the flimsy material of your dress. He kisses you back then, mouth jutting insistently into yours, tongue sliding against your lower lip. You arch your back, scramble to find some balance in this precarious position, and your hands end up tangled in his hair. He tastes like beer and aftershave and something that’s so distinctly Mingyu, you want more.

You pull away when air becomes a necessity, blinking even as Mingyu’s arms pull you closer to him.

“This isn’t over,” you manage to get out in between huffed breaths.

“Tomorrow,” he promises, but his eyes are glazed. He looks at you like a man starved, and tilts his head and kisses you again, kisses you like he might never see you again. 

You let him. It’s Kim Mingyu, after all, and you’ve always been a little weak for him.

You don’t think of Seokmin; don’t let him come out of the tiny pocket you’ve preserved in your heart just for him. Instead, you wrap your arms around your ex-boyfriend’s neck, leaning into his chest and kissing him back with equal fervour, letting him know that you need him as much as he needs you.

God, you’d missed him. Way more than you thought. You’ve memorised his touch, branded it into your mind, but it still feels new. Like the first time you were with him, kissing like two teenagers with reckless abandon. 

His cold fingers find their way underneath your waist, hitching up the loose material of your dress around your thighs. You kneel on the couch cushions in front of him, almost straddling his lap but not quite. His fingers brush against your sides in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

He nips at your lip, asking for entrance to your mouth to which you accept, parting your lips enough for him to get a taste. As he moves his tongue around yours, exploring your mouth in every way possible, you can’t contain the slight whimper that escapes your throat. 

Mingyu groans, leaning his weight onto you as you both start moving together until you’re laid flat against the couch. He’s impatient, you can tell; his fingers dig into your skin, and he groans again when you bite down gently on his lower lip. He pulls back and moves downwards, kissing your jaw and behind your ear, suckling gently on a sensitive bit of skin with expertise. “Tell me to stop,” he says, whispering the words against your skin.

All you do is moan in response, rubbing your thighs together to get some friction with the way he’s moving his mouth against your skin. 

“Tell me to stop,” he says again, more firmly this time.

“Shut the fuck up, Gyu,” is all you reply with, the nickname falling out of your lips with familiarity. 

Maybe it’s the use of something that used to be your thing—something the two of you shared, the shortened version of his name—but hearing it come out of your lips again does things to Mingyu that he isn’t sure he’d ever be able to put into words for you. Trailing his movements down to your neck, he stops at your chest, a small smile spreading on his face. “Forgot how much I loved it when you called me that.”

Looking down at him, you hadn’t realised he’s moved further down your body and his fingers trace the edges of your underwear. Your dress is bunched up above your thighs, skin exposed to the cool air. “Gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbles, pressing a tiny kiss to the inside of your thighs. He toys with the elastic of the waistband, chuckling when you shoot him an irritated glare.

He stares down at your clothed core, mouth watering while his hands move faster than you can comprehend. It takes him two seconds to hook his slender fingers underneath the waistband of your panties before he pulls them down to your ankles and tosses them onto the coffee table. 

You feel a wave of shyness overcome you—with the way he’s looking at you, desperate for your taste—and you try to close your legs, before his hands land on your thighs, halting your actions. “So pretty,” he murmurs. “I want to see all of you.”

Heat burns your cheeks and flows through your body. You turn your head to avoid his burning gaze as you feel him part your legs. He readjusts himself, laying as flat and comfortably as he can with what little space he has on the couch until he’s face-to-face with where you need him most. He tests the waters, leaning in with his tongue out, letting it graze your clit. You stifle a moan, biting your lip so hard, you think it might bleed.

He smiles, loving how you’re holding back. “So quiet, baby. Wanna remember how I used to make you feel.” Laying his tongue flat against your clit, he gives you slow and soft strokes—so gentle that it drives you insane. 

“You’re such—such a tease,” you gasp out, right when he swirls his tongue around the nub.

Mingyu only raises an eyebrow at that. “You haven’t changed.” But all the same, any plans he had to be patient with you go straight out the window; he wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you down further to his face. The sudden pull surprises you, and you gasp a little while searching for something to grab onto. He indulges in your pussy, tongue exploring your pulsating hole that clenches around everything and nothing all at once. He relishes in the way you feel on his tongue, groaning against your folds while bringing a hand up and rubbing his thumb on your neglected clit. 

You’re a mess under his touch, squirming on the sofa, loud groans and soft mewls escaping your lips wantonly. Your fingers find their way into his soft locks, pulling gently on his hair and scratching against his scalp. He lets out a moan against your pussy, lapping at your juices as if you’re his last source of water. “F-fuck, Gyu, ‘m gonna—” a gasp— “‘m gonna cum.”

This only encourages him to work his mouth harder, wanting to watch you fall apart just by his mouth alone. You tug harder at his hair, moans growing louder and more desperate by the second, and your thighs shudder around his head, feeling the rush of your high come so close, you aren’t prepared for it.

With two final sucks to your clit, you come undone on his tongue followed by a string of moans with broken pieces of his name somewhere in between. Mingyu looks up at you with bright eyes and a satisfied grin, as if he didn’t just eat out your pussy like he would never get the chance to again. The mixture of saliva and your juices dripping down his chin makes your eyes widen even as you squint down at him. 

With careful, deliberate motions, he moves away from you, the grin on his face replaced by a more serious expression. You sit up, leaning on your elbows. The aftermath of your passionate actions catches up to you; reaching over, you snatch your panties from the coffee table and swing your legs over. Throughout, Mingyu doesn’t say anything. He only watches, in that quiet, observant way of his, swiping at his mouth and chin with a tissue he grabbed from the tissue box next to the couch.

You glance at him. Is he going to say something? Or is he going to let you walk away again, with all the words you want to say to him lying on the tip of your tongue, always there but never released?

“Y/N.” He scrambles to his feet when you stand up, clutching your underwear in one hand and adjusting your dress with the other. He sounds… uncertain. Completely unlike the Mingyu who cockily asked you if Seokmin was your boyfriend, or who joked around with Jihyo like it was second nature to him.

You bite your lip. “Yes?”

“Do you… do you want anything? Water?” 

You melt a little at his words like an ice cream left out for too long. Kim Mingyu, always so kind, always so caring—you know that better than anyone. 

He can be cruel too, in the way he chips away at your already broken heart. He doesn’t know it but he does—lift your hopes only to let it all crumble down. Like how he broke the promises you made to each other, and how you broke the words you’d sworn to say to him alone.

It hits you again, how you and Mingyu were meant to be, and how lonely it was when he left. You wonder if he feels the same way—did he spend sleepless nights in bed, thinking of you? Did he ever think that if he could travel back in time, he’d do it all over again?

You shake your head no at him. He doesn’t say anything after that, but his lips part slightly. He watches you as you walk over to grab your purse and head inside your room.

That night, you don’t sleep at all—despite wrapping yourself up in your Looney Tunes comforter and the comforting weight of your pillow beneath your head that usually puts you to sleep instantly. 

Instead, it feels like the very first night you and Mingyu broke up all over again.

SIXTEEN

You don’t tell anyone about what transpired between you and Mingyu. It remains hidden between you both, a secret neither of you are willing to bring up.

Jihyo is back to work at her new city, now completely devoid of boy problems of any sort, since Jeong Jaehyun has shifted his affections to another co-worker. (“It’s better this way,” she tells you, “he didn’t want a committed relationship, anyway.” You can tell she’s truly not bothered by it, so you grin and agree.)

Seokmin doesn’t come around to your cubicle the way he used to earlier, either. Your days at the office are dreary and boring, now that your co-worker’s sunshine smile isn’t there to keep you company. In fact, the only person who still talks to you voluntarily at work is your boss, Seunghcheol, but even then it’s mostly just a sympathetic smile he offers you followed by a new deadline or a project.

You and Mingyu are back to whatever it was you had when you first moved in, before the lasagne fiasco. Not talking to each other, but not not talking to each other either. You swerve around each other in tandem, finding more and more excuses to avoid whatever happened in between you both. He lied when he said he would talk to you about it the next day, after he ate you out on the couch.

You can’t blame him completely; you’ve made no effort to reach out to him, either.

Weariness seeps into your skin with every passing second. You rub at your already half-closed eyes and hide a yawn behind a closed fist. The letters on your laptop screen swim in front of you. The stack of folders next to it drags a tired sigh out of your lips.

You’re so tired. Not just physically, but emotionally you’re drained out, all the liveliness sucked out of you like someone vacuumed up the inside of your heart. The lack of sleep is getting to you; the lack of someone to brighten up your days is getting to you more.

If you and Seokmin were still on a talking basis, he would have sauntered over to your desk by now, hands in his pockets and the same question on his lips: “Coffee break?”

He’s not here now, probably tucked into his corner of the floor. Maybe his smile is directed at someone else. Maybe he’s taking someone else on the daily ritual that you used to consider yours. Maybe it’s time you get out of your fucking swivel chair and get some coffee.

You’re not doing it alone, of course. No, coffee at the office—no matter how shitty the machine is and how long the line for the coveted caffeine is—is yours and Seokmin’s thing. Besides, he said you’re still friends; it’s time for you to step up.

Stifling another yawn, you blink slowly before pushing yourself off your chair. It occurs to you that you don’t know exactly where Seokmin’s cubicle is—he’d mentioned it was by Seungcheol’s room once. You decide to start there.

It doesn’t take you long to find Seokmin. You walk into him—literally walk into him. A startled gasp leaves your lips when you collide into someone’s chest, an apology already on the tip of your tongue.

“Are you okay?”

You blink once. The voice is familiar. You direct your gaze at the person you bumped into. 

“Seokmin,” you breathe out weakly.

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “The one and only.”

“I-I’m sorry I bumped into you,” you quickly apologise. “I was on my—”

“It’s okay, don’t apologise,” he interrupts. “I should’ve looked at where I was going too.”

“How… have you been?” The question spills out before you notice, and you realise that you’re genuinely concerned about his wellbeing. You’ve missed him, missed his companionship. 

Seokmin looks briefly surprised that you’ve asked him. He clears his throat, once. “Oh, um. I’ve been fine—y’know, the usual. Work, home, sleep and then repeat. How—how about you?”

“I’ve been better,” you admit. “You look tired, though.”

He lifts his hand and rubs his cheek with an accompanying embarrassed chuckle. “You could tell?”

He has bags underneath his eyes. His shoulders sag ever-so slightly. His usually perfectly styled hair isn’t as neat as it used to be. You nod. “You look exhausted.”

“Ah.” Another embarrassed chuckle; you can tell he doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“Coffee break?” you offer, a small, lopsided smile gracing your lips.

This time, the smile Lee Seokmin gives you lights up his eyes.

SEVENTEEN

“This is ridiculous!” you call out for the nth time, glaring at the door with as much intensity as you can muster.

“Jihyo’s orders!” Seokmin calls back, from outside the room. “I have proof that she asked me to lock you two up in order for you to talk it out.”

Mingyu huffs out a breathless laugh from behind you. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, sheets crumpled and pillow on his lap. You turn around to level your glare at him.

“Give it up,” he advises.

“Don’t even.” You pinch the bride of your nose, closing your eyes in exasperation. “This is all your fault.”

“My fault? No one told you to tell Seokmin everything!”

“Well, how was I supposed to know he would go and tell Jihyo?” you splutter out, opening your eyes and bringing your hand down. “I didn’t even know they’d exchanged numbers!”

“Might as well get it over with,” Seokmin’s voice travels through the barricade once more. “The sooner the better.”

“I didn’t ask you, Seokmin,” you mutter.

“He’s right, you know.” Mingyu pats the space next to him, inviting you to sit down. “If Jihyo hadn’t forced him to do it, I would have found some way to do it myself.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” you retort. “You’ve been avoiding me since the day we—since the day we kissed.”

“I would have tried,” he reasons. “But since you’re here now, can you at least please listen to what I have to say?”

“Oh, so now you have things you want to say,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. Regardless, you sit down next to him. You’re curious, you will admit. This conversation could potentially break your heart, or it could also change the trajectory of your relationship with Mingyu.

Your ex-boyfriend takes a deep breath before beginning.

“The other day, when I said I wanted to kiss you—I wasn’t lying, Y/N. I truly meant it. I’ve wanted to kiss you the minute I laid eyes on you again. I wanted to hold your hand, to take you places around the neighbourhood, to come back home to you.

“I thought we were making progress. I thought we were friends again, and I could somehow win your heart back.” A wry smile crosses his lips. “But then Seokmin came by, and you both just seemed so close. He—he brought back this life in you; your eyes sparkled whenever he was around, and you were always smiling when you were with him. I never saw that after we… after you moved in. You were always so jittery with me—understandably so—and I… I let my jealousy of seeing you with Seokmin get the better of me.

“That day, when I—” he pauses, glancing at you; his eyes are imploring, and you sense that he’s laying himself bare for you— “when you saw me kissing that girl, I did it on purpose. To make you jealous. And then I saw the look on your face, and even when I was drunk, I knew I’d fucked up. So I left her, and I followed you back inside—you closed the door just as I caught up with you. I called up Minghao, spent the night at his place. I think that’s when I realised completely that I—that I still love you.”

Your breath catches in your throat at his words. Your heart is hammering inside your chest. You can’t believe you’re actually hearing these words.

Mingyu swallows. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Even after we broke up, even after all the things we said to each other—some part of me knew that I shouldn’t give up on you. I have loved you throughout. I will continue to love you throughout.”

He looks down, staring at his hands. In that instant, he looks so small. Vulnerable. As if giving his entire heart to you on a silver platter isn’t enough. As if he’s giving all of himself to you, mind, body and soul.

You need to tell him that your mind, body and soul have always been his.

“Mingyu,” you begin, watching as his eyes travel over to yours uncertainly, “you absolute fucking idiot.”

His lips twitch up briefly. “Wha—”

“I love you, too, idiot.” The words rush out breathlessly. “I never stopped.”

Mingyu’s eyes widen and his mouth opens imperceptibly. You continue, “I knew this would happen. The minute I stepped foot into your house, I knew I would fall for you all over again.”

You reach out and grip his hand, needing something to tether you against him. “And I did.” A watery laugh escapes your mouth. “I fell in love with you all over again.”

A pause, and then Mingyu’s free hand cups your cheek, skin warm against yours. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Mingyu smiles at your confession—a full smile, with his eyes crinkling in the corners and his lips turning upwards. He leans forward. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

You beat him to it, covering the distance between you both with one swift swoop. You capture his lower lip in between yours, hands resting on his shoulders to steady yourself. He kisses you back with equal fervour, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly closer. You close your eyes and slide your tongue across the seam of his lips, smiling when he lets out a silent groan. 

He only pulls away once he needs air, but even then he doesn’t let you go. He pulls you forward, making you straddle his lap as he kisses your cheeks, your nose, the column of your throat. You relish in his touches, tangling your hands in his hair and tugging gently at the silky strands.

“We should probably stop,” you whisper, when a particularly sharp nip at your neck elicits a soft moan from you. “Seokmin’s standing outside.”

“Fuck him,” Mingyu says. He presses another kiss on your jaw, looking up at you like you’ve hung up all the stars in the universe.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him. “C’mon. I don’t want to scar him for life.”

“Who cares?”

“I care,” you say, slowly getting off his lap. Already you can feel the absence of his warmth. 

“Fine,” he agrees, once you stand up fully and brush yourself off. “I love you.”

Warmth shoots up your chest and onto your cheeks and neck. Your heart swells, and you find yourself grinning involuntarily. “I love you, too.”

“Good.” Mingyu stands up and pecks your cheek. “Now let’s go save Seokmin from his misery.”

(Later, if you find Seokmin with bright pink ears as he pointedly avoids yours and Mingyu’s gaze, that’s no one’s business but his.)

EIGHTEEN

Mingyu sucks on a sweet spot right underneath your ear and you can practically hear his smirk when you let out a whine. You fist your hand in the sheets, feeling the soft material crinkle underneath your fingertips. 

“Such a tease,” you whisper out.

He lowers his head, nips at your neck and then runs his tongue over the spot, soothing it. “So you’ve mentioned.”

Your retort dies on your lips when he moves lower and lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your collarbones and shoulders. You whine again when his fingers find your nipple, pinching the bud lightly in between his thumb and forefingers. He moves lower, breath ghosting over your abdomen and belly button, until he finally comes face to face with your clothed pussy.

He hooks his finger into the waistband of your panties, nails scraping against your skin. You squirm under his touch, lifting your hips to help him pull the flimsy garment down your legs and toss it to the side. Mingyu sucks in a breath sharply when he sees your exposed cunt—despite already having seen it before, and you feel a rush of pride at the fact that you still have this effect on him. “So pretty,” he murmurs, eyeing your folds hungrily. 

Mingyu works on your clit expertly, thumb rubbing against the nub, eliciting a loud moan from you. He licks a stripe up your folds, grinning when your hand automatically finds itself in his hair again. When he finds you’re wet enough, he slides a finger in. You inhale sharply, hole clenching around the digit. He circles his thumb around your clit once more, before sliding another finger in.

You gasp at that, tightening the hand in his hair. Mingyu leans forward, swiping at your clit with his tongue one more time and pulling both his fingers out at the same time. He relishes in the sounds coming out of your mouth, feeling proud that you’re not trying to hide anything from him. You’re completely under his mercy, as is he when it comes to you.

He slides both the fingers back in, hissing when your walls contract against them, pumping the digits in and out a few more times. The way you moan—because of him—makes him finger your hole faster, enjoying the way your moans increase in pitch. When he sees your eyes beginning to cloud over, Mingyu quickly withdraws his fingers. You whimper at the loss of his touch and he chuckles. “Patience, baby. Don’t want you to cum just yet.”

Your head falls back on the pillow and you mutter a string of incoherent words under your breath. “Look at me,” Mingyu tuts.

You lift up your neck curiously. Mingyu waits for your eyes to land on his lips before he slowly, deliberately puts his two fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the digits and licking your juices off. He doesn’t fail to notice the way you bite your lip at the sight.

Once he pulls his fingers out, Mingyu bends down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Are you even gonna fuck me, Gyu?” you grit out, and his eyes widen.

“Call me that again,” he orders. 

“Fuck me, Gyu.” Your voice is borderline a whimper, and, well—who is Mingyu to prevent you from getting what you desire? After all, he’s always been a little weak when it comes to you.

He gets on his knees, holding his throbbing cock in his hand. He pumps it a few times, groaning softly, before positioning himself at your entrance. “You’re on the pill?”

“Yes.” You nod almost desperately, waiting for him to slide it all the way in.

Mingyu enters you slowly—the pace is almost unbearable—but he shudders when he feels your walls against his dick. You grab onto his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. A loud moan escapes your lips when he jerks his hips forward, his cock pressing into your cervix. Your eyes screw shut, and Mingyu grunts, pulling out and thrusting back inside with more force. Almost unconsciously, you wrap your legs around his hips, granting him more access to your hole and allowing him to push himself deeper inside you.

He leans down and captures a nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue around the pebbled bud. You gasp out moans wantonly, and it spurs him to thrust faster and faster inside you. He watches you fall apart on him, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips when your moans become interspersed with chants of his name. 

Your grip on his shoulders tighten and the muscles flex under your hold. Your cries reach a crescendo with one particularly sharp thrust; Mingyu can tell your climax is approaching.

He speeds up, pumping into you with as much strength as he can muster. Your nails leave white-hot trails along his back, his shoulders—you try to hold onto him as best as you can. You cry for more, beg him to keep going. A bit redundant, in his opinion—he has no plans of stopping until you’ve orgasmed. 

Mingyu thrusts into you one last time, throwing you over the edge. Your walls clench around his cock tightly, black stars floating in your vision as you cry out his name. He pumps into you weakly, letting you ride out your orgasm while chasing his own high. He buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily, and when your walls tighten around him, he comes inside you, his movements coming to a pause. 

You stroke his sweaty bangs away from his forehead, both of you catching your breaths. He remains sheathed in you, even as he pulls you onto your side so both your chests are touching. 

“Feel good?” he asks, one hand carding through your hair gently.

You let out a tired, but satisfied hum, smiling softly at Mingyu. 

You spend the night curled up in his arms. He sleeps soundly next to you, eyelashes brushing against his cheeks and hands wrapped protectively around your figure. The steady thrum of his heartbeat sounds against your ear, and you smile, even in your sleep.

NINETEEN

“You have your thinking face on.” Your boyfriend saunters into the kitchen, a knowing smile on his lips. You roll your eyes at him. 

“You can’t tell me you don’t see it too,” you say pointedly, waving your wooden spatula at him.

Mingyu chuckles, moving over and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. He presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder. “What, that Seokmin and Jihyo are meant to be? That smells amazing, by the way, love.”

“Yes,” you huff out, stirring the soup inside the pot boiling on the stove. “And thank you.”

From the living room, you can hear your two friends laughing over something you couldn’t possibly begin to comprehend. Jihyo still lives in another city, but she comes over to visit whenever she can. You and Seokmin remain friends, and he often comes over whenever you, Mingyu and Jihyo decide to hang out—though, you suspect his enthusiasm to join you three has more to do with one particular person rather than the entire group.

“If you say so,” Mingyu agrees. “I think they’re just friends.”

“Friends don’t look at each other that way,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Really? I seem to recall him looking at you the exact same way not too long ago.”

“That’s different, Gyu. Here, can you taste some? I don’t want it to be too salty.” Grabbing a large spoon, you dip it in the pot and offer it to Mingyu.

He obliges, letting you shove the spoonful into his mouth—and yelps almost immediately. “Ouch! You didn’t tell me it was hot.”

You only raise an eyebrow at him, but a small hint of amusement dances in your eyes. “How does it taste?”

Mingyu rolls his eyes at you but rests his chin on your shoulder; his hair tickles your ear. “It tastes amazing as always, love.”

“You’re sure? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?”

“I’m offended you think I would lie to you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you deadpan, and it makes Mingyu giggle.

“I’m serious, it tastes good.” He smiles at you, peeling himself away from you. “Let’s go join the other two.”

“Coming.” You put the stove on simmer and grab Mingyu’s extended hand. His fingers slot in between yours easily. Your lips curl upwards on their own accord, and your heart feels so full, it’s close to bursting.

You’re there, in a room with all your favourite people, and it’s perfect.

The very first night you and Mingyu broke up is pushed to the back of your mind, never to slip out of the corner you’ve tucked it into. The nights after made up for it, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You rebuild the promises you made and make new ones along the way.

You’d write it in the sky if you could, but you and Mingyu don’t need that. 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

reserved chair

words: 10.9k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, college au, past car crash, anxiety/ptsd, shy!reader, virgin!reader, soft!rafe, fingering, female recieving oral, p in v sex, protected sex

you take a deep breath before pulling open the door, eyes scanning the lecture hall. despite being ten minutes early to class, most of the seats are already taken. you turn quickly towards the stairs, climbing them slower than your feet want to, desiring to speed up the stairs to stop being able to see everyone's eyes and just the back of their head.

you let out a second deep breath when you get to the top, only a few students in the back row. you walk until you're as far away as possible from any other students, sinking into your chair the second you're sat down. you allow yourself a moment to breathe before working on getting your stuff out, placing your head down to just focus on lessing your anxiety.

upon picking up your head, you swear everyone's eyes are on you. you glance around towards your fellow classmates, but they've almost all turned to stare at the back row, not even trying to hide looking at you.

“wh-what is it?” you whisper to the girl in front of you, the one closest who thankfully looks nice.

“that's rafe camerons seat.”

“who is rafe cameron?” you question. it's the first week of classes, how could he have already claimed a seat? 

the doors open before she can respond, and despite other students entering without anyone caring, everyone's attention shifts, his energy and presence entering the room before he does.

you instantly know that he must be rafe cameron. his eyes land on you before you can scurry to a different seat, trapping you in place, a slight smirk on his face as he casually makes his way up the stairs, and then down the aisle until he is hovering over you.

“is-is this your seat?” you manage to mumble out. “ill move.”

“nah, pretty girl, you stay right there.” rafe grabs the chair next to you, pulling it closer than the allotted distance between work areas before sitting down, so close you can practically feel his leg hovering close to yours, making you shrink even more in your seat.

you can feel his eyes staring at you, paying no mind to anyone else in the classroom, even as the professor enters.

“do you need a pencil?” you ask, reaching down to place your bag on your lap, knowing your voice just came out pathetically timid and weak.

“nope.” he hums, placing a laptop on the desk from a bag you didn't even realize he was carrying onto the table. you should have known he was the type to write notes on a laptop. you wish you had that kind of funds, but you have to head to the library every time you need to use a computer, already struggling just from the tuition alone.

you nod, keeping your head turned down as you get out your notebook, favorite mechanical pencil, and the syllabus you pre-printed out and highlighted.

“what's this?” rafe questions, reaching over to tap your finger, making your eyes widen at the touch, even though he just taps the bandaids around three of your fingers.

“oh! um…” you move quickly to hide your hand. “i write a lot. i get sores on my hand from holding my pencil if i don't bandage them.”

“shit.” rafe laughs. “that's intense.”

you're not sure if he's making fun of you, if he's mocking or sincere. “yeah.” you just whisper.

“what's your name?” he questions, head tilting to the side out of curiosity.

“y/n.” you mutter out. he's probably the first person you've introduced yourself to at college, even going as far as to manage the extra money to get a single dorm, knowing you'd need the privacy and silence to recover from the social interactions.

“im rafe. rafe cameron. where you from y/n?”

“norfolk.” you whisper your answer, your professor starting to introduce himself, but rafe keeps talking as if he isn't going over the syllabus, and for some reason the professor ignores him.

“ah, nice. im from the outer banks.” rafe nods. “you must be pretty smart to get into duke.”

“i guess.” you shrug. you know your test scores are impressive, and you had plenty of time to start dual enrollment since you were homeschooled for high school. it's why you're technically a freshmen in a class full of sophomores and juniors.

“whats your major?”

“general literature.” you shrug. at least thats your major for now, you are considering changing to research psychology, knowing you have to figure it out soon.

“good class for you then.” rafe chuckles, looking at the screen on the wall, words blown up large to show the name of the class LIT 290: SPECIAL TOPICS IN INTERNATIONAL LITERATURE AND CULTURE.

“what's your major?” you question, whispering while rafe talks at a normal volume. you wait for the professor to scold him, occasionally giving him angry glances, brows furrowed together, but the shushing never comes.

rafe shrugs. “just kinda taking classes for now. i guess im technically in government. gonna take over my dad's development company once i graduate and he retires.”

“oh, like real estate development?” you quirk your head to the side, half listening to him, half listening to the professor as you scribble down notes.

“yup. you've probably heard of the company.”

your brows furrow as you think, not sure why he's so confident about having heard of it before, it's not like you can really name any real estate- oh.

“rafe cameron. cameron enterprises.” you mumble, eyes widening.

“exactly right.” he smirks. “you stay in one of our dorms?”

you nod, you do in fact. there's several cameron sponsored dorms around campus, you're in east campus: cameron.

“i guess that explains a lot.” you take a deep sigh. no wonder everyone was staring at him, why the professor refuses to say anything to him, his family's company practically sponsors the entire school.

“ill let you focus now.” rafe sits forward, hands coming to his keyboard as the professor begins the actual lecture.

you furiously write, nervous to miss any information, not wanting to waste the scholarship money allowing you to take this class.

“y/n.” rafe says, making you jump slightly, forgetting he was next to you, so focused in paying attention to the professor.

“yeah?” you hum, putting your notebook into your bag as the professor ends class, reminding everyone to review the syllabus and get their reading done.

“sit there next week.” he says, tapping the table in front of you before standing, striding out of the class without a care in the world, people stopping in their tracks to let him pass.

--

you can hear their whispers and footsteps, breaking the silence of the evening as you sit on front of your window, desk pushed up close as you take notes, textbook opened up, the lamp on your desk switched on as the setting sun turns the sky a warm orange with hints of pink, making the fall colors in the campus trees looking even more red.

there's a knock on your door, making you jump as the pencil clatters to the floor. you expected the whispers and footsteps to pass. certainly they must be at the wrong room.

you consider staying silent, but want them to go away, not try to knock again thinking that their friend just didn't hear them.

“hi.” you smile as you open the door. “i think you have the wrong room.”

“no, we've got the right one.” you recognize one of the three girls as the girl in front of you in lit 209, the one who told you whose seat you were in.

“im angie. this is chelsea and veronica.” she gestures to the girls behind her. “we saw you talking to rafe. i… kinda overheard some of your conversation. chelsea is also from norfolk and im also studying literature. i thought we'd invite you out to join us at the dining hall.”

it takes you a second to realize what she's asking you. finding commonalities, inviting you out, basically asking you to be friends without the direct words.

“yeah.” you nod. “let me just grab my bag.” you step into your dorm to grab your bag off the book, double checking that your student id is inside to get into the dining hall. you shove your phone into your back pocket before stepping out, not letting your anxiety stop you from making friends, you need at least one person to confide in and hang out with.

“so, where did you graduate from?” chelsea asks, the one also from norfolk.

“oh, i was homeschooled.” you hate having to explain it, but the reason why you had to drop out of public school is the same reason your heart beat is skyrocketing as you head towards the elevator, palms sweating and nervously swallowing.

“oh, nice!” chelsea smiles. “i graduated from maury high.”

you're thankful it's not the high school you pulled out of, there's no way that she would have heard about you, about your intense anxiety after you were in a car crash, then sudden disappearance from school.

the conversation shifts to the other girls high schools, veronica telling a funny story from her graduation. you occasionally chime in, but the girls seem happy to keep the conversation flowing between each other as you head out of the dorm room and through the walkways to the dining hall.

the conversation doesn't shift until you until you're sitting down at a booth.

“so, rafe, huh?” chelsea asks.

“i don't know him.” you shake your head. “i just sat next to him and offered him a pencil, really, that's it.”

“you do know who his dad is right?”

you glance around the cafeteria, even that has signs of cameron enterprises sponsorship. “oh, i know.”

“that's why he goes here.” angie says. “he wouldn't have gotten in if it wasn't for his dad.”

“he's so hot, right?” veronica giggles before taking a bite of her pizza.

“yeah, is he even better up close?” chelsea turns to ask you.

you shrug. “i mean, i wasn't really paying attention.” it's a half truth. you absolutely were aware of how attractive rafe was, but you spent all of the lecture and most of the conversation trying to avoid looking at him for fear of eye contact.

“i heard he's such a bad boy. apparently he broke like five girls hearts last year because he was sleeping with them all at the same time.”

“oh, jeez.” you cringe. you should have guessed rafe was a player, but you also don't know the truth behind the rumors.

the conversation shifts from rafe to about other boys at the school, allowing you a moment to breathe and center yourself, calming down slightly. the girls make you feel comfortable enough that you finish dinner and bid them goodbye without a major anxiety attack, but the second you get back in your dorm, you collapse into the bed and pass out.

--

you stare at the seats, wondering if you really should sit in the same one. angie looks back at you with a gentle smile, mouthing a quick “sorry.” as there's already people sitting on either side of her.

you shake your head. it's fine, you tell yourself, and pull out the chair and sit down, right in the same spot you were at last week.

rafe walks in moments later, a real smile on his face when he sees you. you glance at him quickly before looking down, fiddling with your pencil and writing random gibberish until he's sat next to you.

“so i didn't scare you off?” rafe questions, setting his laptop down and fishing out his cord to charge it. you notice the outlet inset into the table is directly in front of you, rafe having to lean over into your personal space to plug it in.

“we can switch spots.” you blurt out, despite the cord being plenty long enough to reach.

“nah.” rafe shakes his head. “you look pretty in my seat.”

you're not sure how you looking pretty relates, and how you would look any different sitting in the opposite chair, but your face blushes and you stammer something intelligible, making rafe smirk.

“you're real cute, you know that right?”

“oh, i um- noooo.” you chuckle awkwardly.

“even cuter when i make your face all red like that.”

you don't say anything in response, not sure you can even form words as you reach to press your fingers over your cheeks, willing them to cool down.

“i got something for you.” rafe reaches into his bag. he pulls out his computer and then a second laptop, making your brows furrow as he sets it in front of you, along with a charger and bluetooth mouse.

“what is this?” you question. you’ve heard of loaner laptops through the school, but this brand is way too nice to be the one they’re handing out to dumb college kids to give back at the end of your semester.

“a laptop. for you.” rafe says, like it’s obvious.

“i-i can’t!” you shake your head as the professor begins his lecture. for once, you don’t even bother to pay attention as you pick up the laptop and move it back towards rafe. “i can’t afford it.” “it’s already paid for.” rafe places it back in front of you, opening it up. “the password is my name.” he smirks as the screen turns on, illuminating your face. 

“its too expensive, i really can’t accept this.” your hands go to the keyboard despite your words, typing in his name rafecameron. you click enter, the computer unlocking for you to a clean home screen.

“its pennies to me, really. i want you to have it.” he glances at your still bandaged fingers. “so you can stop wrapping your fingers.”

“i-i don’t know how to thank you.” you shake your head.

“oh,” rafe reaches back into his backpack. “i got this for you. its touchscreen.” he sets the pen for the computer next to the mouse. “in case you prefer to write over type, but please, try typing for the sake of your fingers.”

“thank you.” you smile at him, opening up a browser and logging into your email, quickly opening up google docs to take notes, attention turning only half to the professor, the other half of your mind stays focused on rafe smiling at you.

--

“how did i know i’d find you here?” the voice makes you jump. it’s strange to hear rafes voice outside of the lecture hall, even as the weeks have gone by and you’ve hung out occasionally with angie and the few friends you’ve made, you’ve never seen rafe outside of class.

“no one is ever here.” you look around the empty room. it’s a study room, technically met for literature majors, but you’re sure no one would say a word about rafe being inside.

“thats how i knew you’d be here.” he plops down on the seat across from you. 

“do you need help with your homework or something?” you ask. your professor assigned you an essay, maybe rafe is seeking out your help.

rafe lets out a scoff, looking at you with an exasperated expression. of course. you should have known he didn’t need to really try on his homework to get straight a’s.

“i want to take you on a date, come on.” rafe cocks his head toward the door.

“oh!” your eyebrows rise in surprise. sure, rafe has always been flirty before and after class, but you thought it was mostly out of teasing you, riling you up, not serious enough to actually ask you on a date.

“your choice. now or in two hours.” rafe glances at the clock on the wall.

“now is fine.” you also look at the clock. you don’t want to stay out too late, needing to get back in your dorm and work, and you also don’t want to end up at a party, it’s probably your worst nightmare to be surrounded by drunk college kids shouting and dancing.

“perfect.” rafe picks up your bag when you put your stuff away, slinging it over his shoulder as you follow behind him, having to pick your pace up to keep up with his long strides.

“taking you to dinner off campus.” rafe says, leading you out of the building and towards the parking lot. you freeze ups, eyes widening. rafe doesn’t realize you’ve stopped following him, stuck in place on the sidewalk, until he’s feet away from you.

“hey…” rafe says softly, approaching you carefully. “you alright?” “i-i-” you hate how much you’re stuttering, you can’t help it when the nerves take over and your hands start to shake. “i don’t like- um. i don’t like being a passenger.” just uttering the words make that night come back to you, you trusting your friend, getting into their car, only for them to roll it repeatedly, somehow all walking away, but the scars inside of you are mental ones.

“you can drive then.” rafe holds his keys up like an offering. “or we can eat dinner here, whatever you want.”

“im okay driving.” you trust only yourself. maybe someday you’ll learn to feel safe with someone driving you, but it took you weeks to get behind the wheel with even your mom, having to use calming techniques every time you’re on the road.

“perfect.” rafe stays pretty quiet, only making small comments about how to turn on his car (you’ve never been in a push to start before) and how to get to the restaurant. he doesn’t even turn on the radio, seeing how nervous you are, letting you concentrate fully on driving. you do feel better when you’re in control of the vehicle, but the fear of a rogue driver hitting you is always there.

“i want to tell you something, rafe.” you say shyly, now sat at your table at a nice restaurant, wishing you would have changed into something fancier, but rafe doesn’t seem to care, so you don’t either.

“okay.” he nods.

“i was in a car accident in high school. that’s why i don’t like being a passenger. thats why i have…” you take a deep breath. “so much anxiety.”

“hey.” he says softly, reaching across the table. “its okay. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i like you just how you are.”

the comments angie and chelsea come to the front of your mind. “why do you even like me? everyone says you’re some sort of bad boy.” you don’t have to point out that rafe has only ever been nice to you, ridiculously kind and generous.

“when i walked into the classroom that first day and saw you sitting in my seat, looking at me like that…” rafe shakes his head. “you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. i love that you’re shy. it’s cute, i swear.” “you like my anxiety?” you giggle, sure that no man could actually mean that.

“well, no.” rafe shakes his head, his eyes bright. “i like that you’re like a puzzle, waiting for me to solve.” “i-i don’t know what to say. im not mysterious or anything.” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“maybe not, but i want to figure out what makes you tick. how you like to be kissed, held…” rafe raises an eyebrow and you don't need him to say the next word as you're suddenly very interested in staring at your food.

“there's that blush i love so much.” rafe smiles. “you're so gorgeous.”

“there's like, way prettier girls than me at the college. i don't get your interest in me at all. awkward and… shy.” you shrug.

“don't sell yourself short.” rafe reaches across the table, squeezing your hand in his. “you're beautiful. plus, half the girls just want me for my dad's money, and the other half hate me for sleeping around last year.”

“yeah, i kinda heard about that.” you admit, trying to concentrate on your palm to keep it from getting sweaty. “angie told me you were sleeping with five girls at the same time.”

“they were all just hookups.” rafe shakes his head. “never went farther than that with any of them. it isn't like that with you.”

“well… it's nice to know you're serious about me.”

--

“hold your hand out.” rafe says, still sat in the same classroom, the rest of the students long gone, and with no other classes scheduled for the rest of the day, you feel like you could stay here with rafe all night.

you cup your hand and wait for whatever surprise, unsure how anything could beat the laptop he gifted you.

rafe unclips his gold chain from around his neck and drops it into your palm. “for you to wear. if you want of course.”

“is this the college equivalent of giving me your letterman jacket?” you giggle, perception of high school skewed towards idealized versions in books and movies since you missed out on most of the personal experience.

“i would love to call you my girl.” rafe smiles softly, so genuine it makes you almost want to lean forward and plant your lips on his.

“like… exclusively?” you wiggle the chain in your hand, feeling the weight shift around. certainly real gold.

“of course. i told you, im serious about you. i want you and only you, but im willing to move at your pace. if you're not ready yet, ill wait.”

you take a moment to think about it. weighing the pros and cons. con, you're inexperienced. pro, you really like rafe. con, rafe could get bored with you after a week. pro, you really like rafe. con, a boyfriend would distract from your schoolwork. pro, you really like rafe.

you hand the necklace back to rafe, watching the way his face falls, thinking it's a rejection, before you pull your hair up. “put it on for me?”

rafes smile is brighter than the sun as he strings the necklace around you, fingers gently teasing your skin, grazing against you anytime he can while he does the clip.

you smile back at rafe as you turn back towards him, feeling giddy. “so, what now?”

“what do you mean what now?” rafe chuckles. “now i kiss you.”

rafe leans in as your eyes widen, heartbeat skyrocketing as you suddenly shout out. “im a virgin!”

rafe sits back in surprise and confusion.

“im a virgin, ive never had a real boyfriend and ive never had a first kiss unless you count one that happened in second grade with a boy named lincoln on the playground-” you know you're rambling, so you're thankful when rafe cuts you off.

“that's okay.” rafe says. “i like that you're untouched. just means i need to do things right for all your firsts.”

you nod, not really understanding what he means, but knowing that you like the sound of it.

“as much as id love to lay you out on this table and wreck you-” your eyes widen at that very image. “your first time will not be in an empty classroom, and your first kiss definitely won't be either. are you free tomorrow night?”

“im… kinda free whenever.” you admit. you only have homework and studying, but you're willing to move those around for dates with rafe, as long as your grades don't slip.

“well, im about to make sure you are a very busy lady.”

--

rafe doesn't try to kiss you the following night. or the date a day later. or at your next class when you end up staying after again. you expect it to be that moment every time, but rafe keeps it slow, almost too slow.

he started with holding your hand. then wrapping his arm around his shoulder. he finally advanced to kissing you on the cheek, and while you appreciate his thoughtfulness, you're starting to go crazy.

“you're lost in thought.” rafe says, making you shake your head and refocus on him. “i just hope it's about me and not about your upcoming assignments.”

“it's always about you.” you smile. your grades are still perfect, you just spend all your study time working hard to complete everything perfectly and quickly to get back to rafe.

“just what i like to hear.” rafe is sat on the end of your dorm bed, twinkling fairy lights above your head as you just relax, both in casual clothes.

“do you think you could stay the night?” you blurt out before quickly going to explain yourself. “not to… have sex. but just to sleep in the same bed.”

“are you sure? you don't have to-”

“rafe!” you squeal. “i want this! i want you!”

rafes eyes widen at your outburst, probably the loudest he's ever heard your voice, before he dissolves into laughter. “ive been taking this too slow, haven't it?” rafe asks as you pout and nod.

“jesus, ive been trying so hard to hold back and not fuck it up, i ended up just fucking up in the other direction. im not used to caring about girls, or anyone, this much. im sorry, y/n. you dictate the pace, not me.”

“i want you to kiss me. tonight. and i want you to stay over and cuddle and hold me.” you allow the sudden rush of boldness to loosen your tongue.

“then that's what we will do.” rafe nods.

he doesn't kiss you immediately, he waits for the perfect moment. the lights are still on, now set to slowly fade in and out.

rafe is laying facing you, not touching you at all, but you can feel the presence, practically itching to reach out.

you're nervous, but you're not letting it stops you. as the lights dim again, your hear the movement on the bed, and then feel rafe move closer.

the second the lights begin to turn back on, rafe is on you, his lips pressed against yours. he doesn't let your first kiss be a simple peck as an arm rounds your back and pulls you into him. he leads the kiss, leaving you just to follow his movements and not stress about being perfect.

rafe slows the kiss down gradually until he pulls away, both of you taking a deep breath.

“that… was amazing.” you giggle, watching the way rafes eyes light up as you laugh. “oh my god! how have i been missing out on that?”

“wanna do it again?” 

“yes!”

rafe kisses you until you start to feel dizzy, having to remind yourself to breathe as he holds you close, but it's still not enough.

you sling a leg over his hips, attempting to pull your bodies flush together when rafe suddenly turns onto his back.

“i don't think you want to do that, baby.” 

“why- oh!” you're about to question the sudden change of attitude when you look down rafes body and see how your kissing has affected one particular part of his body.

“i can't help that you're really sexy, but we aren't doing this tonight in your college dorm. i need to lay you out and make you cum many times in a place where you can be as loud as you want.”

“should i… put on a tv show until it's gone then we can cuddle and sleep?” you offer, trying to ignore his words despite knowing your face is now beet red.

“i don't know if ill ever be fully soft when laying in bed with you, but that will definitely help.”

--

“you have to tell me everything.” angie says, a plate of fries pushed between you to share.

“oh my god he's just… such a gentleman, which i never expected just based off-” you wave your hands around. “everything.”

“that's good because i don't care who his dad is or how rich he is, if he was treating you bad id kick his ass.”

you let out a soft giggle. “i don't think he's gonna mess this up but if he does, ill remember that.”

you both groan as you glance at the clock. you can only spend so much time talking with your new friend when you're supposed to be studying.

“alright.” you pull out your textbook along with the laptop rafe gave you. rafecameron. you didn't even think about changing the password.

“how many words is this essay supposed to be again?” angie hums, also powering on her laptop.

“2,000.” you roll your eyes. “which is just so ridiculous you know the professor isn't reading everyone's.”

“he probably puts them into some ai grader shit.” angie agrees. you both quickly get to work, even getting a refill of fries. you've found that when you have a friend with you you prefer working in the dining area.

“hey baby, i figured you were down here.” rafe slides into the seat next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “how's the essay?”

“actually im pretty much done.” you shrug. you know you have a talent for writing, but its when the topic genuinely interests you. “just don't really know how to end it.”

“can i help?” rafe asks. you nod and angle the screen towards him, letting him read over the words.

“oh my god.” angie mouths to you, glancing between you and rafe.

you blush and duck your head, resting your shoulder against rafes as he reads, watching as he types out a couple sentences to finish off your conclusion paragraph.

“wait, shit, thats perfect.” you pull the laptop back close, checking the word count quickly to confirm you've hit your minimum amount.

“jeez, can you help me with mine too?” angie asks, her eyebrows furrowing together.

“ill read over it.” rafe shrugs. “afterall,” he looks to you. “y/ns friends are my friends.”

--

you gasp when you get back from your shower to find rafe laying in your bed. he immediately tosses aside his phone that he was mindlessly scrolling on.

“missed you.” rafe tugs on your hips as you step closer. your mouth presses against him, the kisses calming your anxiety rather than spiking it like you originally worried it would.

rafes hands stay on your hips as he pulls you down onto the bed, allowing you to fall forward against him, bouncing softly on the springy mattress.

“you're gonna end up missing me a lot over break.” you chuckle softly, knowing a week off is coming up soon.

“about that…” rafe flips so you're both on your sides, facing each other. “what's your plans? driving home to norfolk?”

“actually, i was just gonna stay here.” you shrug. “the college let's out of state kids stay in their dorms during the holiday breaks and i applied for special permission.”

“well, you won't need that.” rafe says. “that is, if you want to come to the outer banks with me.”

“oh- oh my god! yes.” you nod quickly. despite not living far away, you've never actually been to the area before, and you've grown used to rafes constant presence. you're not sure what a week would be like without him.

“my family is out of town until friday anyways, so we will have the place to ourselves for most of the time…” rafes hand moves to your lower back, tugging you in close to him. you understand the implication and despite everything, you only feel excitement and anticipation.

--

“here ya go.” rafe hands you his car keys. you never had to reiterate your need to be in control of any vehicle, rafe just went along with it without pushing.

“actually…” you swallow harshly. “you can drive.”

“baby.” a smile breaks out on rafes face as he talks softly, carefully helping you into the passenger seat, making sure to keep everything slow and relaxed.

“i trust you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “just… don't speed.”

“i wouldn't even think about that.” rafe says, kissing your forehead. “ive got special cargo.”

you giggle and roll your eyes, surprised how corny rafe has become as you both fall further.

rafe seems to have a sense of when your anxiety spikes. he moves to the drivers seat and just stays there for a moment while you breathe, not even turning the car on until you give him a slight nod.

you can tell he's going the long way, turning around a couple side streets to avoid getting onto the highway home too soon.

“ill go this speed the whole way if that's what you need.” rafe says when he pauses at a stop sign.

“just a little more around the neighborhood and ill be fine.” you assure him. you reach over and lay a hand on rafes arm as he drives, the physical connection allowing you to take a deep breath.

when rafe eventually pulls onto the highway, you find yourself breathing regularly, mind racing through all the coping mechanisms the therapist who saw you after the car crash taught you.

“im… im actually doing okay.” you admit to rafe, leaning forward to turn the radio on but keeping the music turned downed low. “thank you.”

“im just glad you trust me.” rafe reaches over and squeezes your thigh before quickly putting both his hands back on the wheel. “it's a long drive for you to do solo.”

in truth it's not much longer than the drive from duke to norfolk, but you're glad that you can relax as the hour passes. 

everytime your mind wanders, or worry strikes about a crazed driver hitting you, you just look to rafe and allow yourself to breathe.

you even manage to lay your car seat back. 

rafe smiles over at you as he watches your eyes blinking slowly, recognizing the sure signs of sleep as you end up napping the rest of the way to his house.

“darling…” rafe says softly, rubbing his hand over your thigh.

you wake up with a start, gasping and sitting up, looking around rapidly.

“hey, hey.” rafe says softly, pulling you into a somewhat awkward hug over the center console. “it's okay. you're safe. we're at my home.”

you press your face into rafes chest and inhale his familiar scent. he doesn't bring up the anxiety spike as he gets out of the car.

you're about to step out when you look at your surroundings, jaw dropping at the stunning house in front of you.

“rafe- this. this place is beautiful.” you allow rafe to help you stand, stretching your legs out. your bags can come in later, you need a tour immediately.

“welcome to tanneyhill.”

--

“we'll have to go out on the boat tomorrow.” rafe twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “what do you want to eat? we can make something or we can order in…”

you let out a yawn, the nap on the drive just making you more tired now that the excitement of seeing rafes home has worn off somewhat.

“pizza is fine.” you hum, snuggling closer to rafe on the expansive couch. “your house is very pretty.”

“but…”

“but what?” you look up at rafe. “i mean it's… it's so grand.”

“but impersonal, right?” rafe reads you so well. “it's just not my families style. no pictures of us kids on the wall or sports medals hung up. it's gotta be kept perfect.”

“that's not how i want our house to be one day.” you frown, eyes widening when you realize what you just said.

“relax, princess.” rafe says when he feels you stiffen up. “i imagine what it'll be like to live together some day too. in fact, i think for next semester you can ditch your little dorm and stay with me.”

“move from east campus: cameron to cameron hall?” you giggle at how everything is named after his family.

“exactly.” rafe hums. “because just the walk to the east side of campus is too far from me.”

“you're… too damn sweet.” you press a kiss to rafes lips, groaning when your phone buzzing distracts you from deepening it.

“who is it?” rafe asks, confident it's probably angie or veronica.

“my… my friend from high school.” you quickly sit the phone face down on the coffee table.

“the friend?”

“yes.” you say bitterly, knowing it's not rafe you're really snapping back up but rather the “friend” who still has the audacity to message you even after causing the car wreck that ruined your life.

“it's the anniversary coming up and… i know she's said sorry a million times already, but i just don't want to hear it. i just want to put everything behind me.” you let the words out in a rush.

“maybe what your friend needs for her to heal is to know you've heard it.”

you look at rafe, blinking at him as your mind works. “what are you doing being so wise?”

rafe breaks the tension with a laugh. “honestly, im just quoting back shit my dad has said and hoping it works.”

“can't wait to meet your dad then if he's anything like you.” you smile, trying to keep up the light attitude when rafes face drops slightly. there's such a small difference you barely even pick up on it. 

“rafe?”

“my dad… isnt my biggest fan.”

“but he's your father.” you question, laying back down, slotting your arms around rafe instead of the usual other way around.

“yeah, and therefore anytime i differ slightly from him, it's a huge disappointment.”

“well… then fuck him.”

rafes eyebrows raise up at your bold words, not used to sharing you cuss often and definitely not against someone.

“you're the best and if he doesn't see that, then that's his loss. if he doesn't completely love you, he's out of his mind because he's known you all your life and ive only known for a couple months and i love you.”

rafe launches forward, lips pressing harshly against yours, a mix of tongue and lips sliding over each other's as you kiss. the passion rafe is putting in is unlike any other time, and you know what you want.

“take me upstairs, rafe.” you nod as he looks at you for confirmation.

rafe picks you up, carrying you effortlessly up the stairs until he's in his bedroom and placing you gently down on the soft sheets.

“are you sure?” rafe asks, hovering over top of you.

“im sure. i love you. i want this.”

rafe nods, then gulps. “why am i the one nervous now.” he ducks his head, and you swear you see the slightest tinge of pink on his cheeks. “i love you too. ive never said that to anyone before but… i love you. i am in love with you. i want you and only you.”

“oh, rafe.” you coo out, sitting up to kiss him. you intend for it to be a soft kiss, a gentle caress but it quickly turns fiery.

“god, you've turned me soft.” rafe says, making you laugh.

“not all of you…” you can feel a certain part pressing against you that is not soft at all.

“yeah, but he'll have to wait. not his turn yet. first…” rafe smirks at you. “i need to worship you with my hands. then my mouth. and then ill take you properly.”

rafe gives you no time to complain as his hands delve under your shirt, stroking the soft skin of your stomach, eyes staying on your face in case even a flicker of doubt comes across it.

his hands slowly move up until he's cupping your chest over your bra, keeping everything concealed by your shirt as you get used to the feeling of his large palms engulfing your breast.

“take my shirt off.” you tell rafe. “im okay.” 

rafe nods, but his movements are still slow as he peels your top away. “you're a lot better than okay, baby.”

you can feel rafes eyes on your chest, but it just makes you happy, wanting to share this with him and only him. you make the next move, reaching behind your back to unclip your bra.

“shh, slow down.” rafes hands cover yours. “i know you want this, but let me just… appreciate you.”

rafe nudges your legs apart and lowers himself in between, pressing kisses against your stomach. his movements are so soft, covering your entire belly before moving up.

rafe kisses over the swell of your breast that's pressing against your bra cup, tongue occasionally flicking out to tease underneath the fabric.

rafe picks his head up to ask if you're still doing okay, but upon seeing your face, he knows he doesn't need to. 

your eyes are already glazed over, blissed out and mouth ajar as you slowly blink down at rafe. “more.”

rafe smiles and tugs your bra away, mouth dropping over your nipple with his fingers find the other side, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the bud as his tongue does the same.

his movements continue until your nipples harden. he pulls away only to quickly switch to the other side.

“feels good.” you whimper, hands finding the back of rafes head, holding him to your chest.

“not as good as it feels to have my mouth on you.” rafe moans against your skin, tongue flicking out to press against your breast like he can't get enough of it.

“you can… you can touch me um…” you're about to say down there which just sounds stupid, but rafe thankfully understands you, his hand reaching down to graze his fingertips over your thighs.

he continues teasing, sweeping every time closer to your center until he delves between, finger rubbing against your covered clit as you gasp, back arching off the bed.

“does that feel good?” rafe asks, a smirk gracing his cheeks.

“y-yeah.” you nod quickly, spreading your legs slightly, ignoring the urge to clench them together and trap rafes hand there.

“can i get these leggings out of the way then?”

“take your shirt off first.” you giggle, looking between your exposed body and rafe still completely clothed.

“yes ma’am.” rafe jokes, making you roll your eyes.

you've seen rafe shirtless before, but this is the first time you've been able to unashamedly check him out as your eyes take in every inch of him, every line of muscle and smattering of hair.

rafe is well aware of your eyes on him, subtly flexing his muscles to make them appear bigger as he peels your leggings off your body. you let out a sigh of relief.

rafe presses himself onto the mattress on your side, partly leaned over you so he can continue to play with your chest.

you allow your eyes to close as his hand rubs against your underwear, swirling over the growing wet patch before moving up to your clit, tapping against it before rubbing.

you let out a soft moan, unable to hold back as a high builds inside of you. rafe suddenly presses forward, his hips thrusting against thigh, needing some sort of relief for his hard cock.

“you… you can fuck me now.” you tell rafe, not wanting to have him suffer in waiting.

“two orgasms first.” rafe says, focusing back on rubbing your clit, determined to get you there once before diving between your legs, even though he could drool right now just from the thought.

“i- ohhh.” whatever you were going to say in protest is forgotten as rafe adds a second finger, working them in sync around and over your clit.

“come on baby.” rafe says, breath hot against your neck as he moves up, pressing kisses and nipping gently at your sensitive skin. “i need you to cum for me.”

rafes mouth connects with yours, swallowing your moans as your arms wrap around his shoulders. it only takes a few more moments of his intense rubbing for you to feel something break. your high rushes over you as you cum loudly, squealing and hiding your face in rafes neck as your entire body shakes, surprised by how intense the feeling is.

“i got you.” rafe says softly, his fingers slowing to take you through your high, not stopping until your body slumps against the mattress.

“god, that was beautiful baby.” rafe kisses your forehead, not caring that there's the slightest sheen of sweat covering it. “if you need to stop now…”

“no!” you say quickly, eyes shooting open. “absolutely not, i need you.”

“gonna take your panties off then, yeah?” rafe makes sure you nod before moving lower, sighing with happiness as he pulls the last barrier away. 

you don't even hesitate for a second before spreading your legs wide, letting rafe see every single part of you.

rafe looks up at you, a sense of seriousness in his eyes and tone. “you're beautiful. you're absolutely beautiful.”

rafe leans forward, and all it takes is a quick lick through your wetness to have you screaming out in pleasure.

“delicious.” rafe mumbles, pushing his hips into the bed for some relief as his tongue explores your pussy, purposely avoiding your clit knowing you're still coming down from your high.

“i- oh my god.” you squeeze your eyes shut as your hands grip onto the sheets. “i never thought it could feel so good.”

“only because you're with me baby.” rafe presses kisses to your open thighs. “no other man could make you feel this good.”

you chuckle and shake your head. “relax rafe, im not thinking about anyone else, trust me.”

“just making sure.” rafe grins up at you.

his attention quickly returns to your cunt as his tongue makes broad stripes through your folds, flicking over your clit every time he reaches it.

you're almost sure that you can't cum again so soon, that your body surely isn't able to, but your high builds steadily with every swipe of rafes tongue.

despite pressing his hips forward into the bed, rafe barely pays attention to himself, too wrapped up in swirling his tongue to taste every inch of you, wondering how he managed to hold off so long when he's spent so many nights in the same bed as you.

rafe refocuses on your clit, lips suctioning around it as his eyes flicker up to you, watching the surprise and pleasure across your face.

rafe knows he can't let you cum too soon as he raises his hand to prod a finger against your entrance. rafe can tell by how wet you are that opening you up should be easy and painless, and he couldn't probably enter you right now with no issue, but he won't risk it.

rafe keeps his eyes on your face as one long finger pushes inside of you, feeling your gummy walls clench around him at the sudden intrusion, but your face doesn't change from the consistent moans.

rafe begins to pump the finger as his tongue surges forward to press against your clit, tapping the bundle of nerves in the same rhythm as his finger entering you.

“oh- oh my god im close!” you squeal, only spurred closer when rafe fits a second finger inside, your slick making it easy and seamless.

rafe picks up the speed, occasionally scissoring his fingers and feeling your walls give way to his movements.

you thighs attempt to close, the pressure suddenly sending you over the edge, but rafe lays a hand against your leg and keeps them open as your high hits, body shaking as you scream out, clenching repeatedly around rafes fingers.

“mmm.” rafe hums against your clit, pulling away only to press a kiss to your core. “can't wait to feel you squeezing ‘round my cock like that.”

rafe kneels between your legs, watching your chest rise and fall, your nipples perky and pink from his attention. your body is completely slack from the intensity of the two orgasms as rafe undoes the buttons on his pants.

“do you want me to… do anything?” you ask.

“no.” rafe shakes his head. “this is all about you baby. ill teach you exactly how i like to be touched some other time.”

“okay.” you nod, glad that you can just relax and let rafe do all the work, especially knowing he's far more experienced than you are.

“you can touch me if you want though.” rafe offers, tugging his pants down so just his underwear is covering his cock, tight against his thighs and clearly bulging against the material.

“i- yeah.” you sit up, forcing your tired body through with the excitement and adrenaline of finally doing this with rafe.

your hand pets over his thigh, moving closer and closer until his cock twitches like it's calling out for you to touch him.

you place your hand firmly over his length, squeezing gently as rafes jaw drops open. such a simple motion but he's surprised how much better it feels having it be you touching him rather than a random girl he has no feelings for.

“god, baby.” rafe groans as you open your palm and stroke it over his length from base to tip. “you're already making me feel so good.”

“want me to keep going?”

rafe is so lost in the feeling he doesn't even realize you've asked him a question until a minute later when his hand rests over yours, stopping you. “no, in fact, i need you to stop before this ends way too soon.”

you can't help but giggle, wrapping your hand around rafes neck and giving him a kiss. “how do you want me?”

“you can lay on your back, or hands and knees, however you want. you can be on top too.” rafe offers as he reaches to his nightstand, digging out a condom.

“um… ill just stay like this.” you say, laying back, knowing you can change your mind later if you need to.

“perfect.” rafe smiles at you, leaning over to press a kiss to your tummy. “you're so perfect.”

you're about to respond when rafe pulls his underwear down and all other thoughts leave your mind.

“like what you see?” rafe smirks, his cock hard and seeming even bigger now that its not hidden by any fabric.

you squeeze your thighs together, and it's the only cue rafe needs to see to understand how much you want this. he wastes no time rolling the condom over his cock, sheathing himself in the latex. it's a non negotiable for your first time, not wanting to overwhelm you with worry about getting pregnant or not liking the feeling of his cum inside you.

rafe is excited for the day when he doesn't need a barrier, but he can wait for you.

“just relax.” rafe says, laying himself down over you. “it'll be better if you don't tighten your muscles. if it does hurt at all-”

you interrupt rafe with a kiss. “ill tell you. i know.”

rafe smiles at you, his cheeks stretching even further when his cock pushes forward and rubs through your folds, covering the condom in your slick.

rafe reaches down to line his cock up with your entrance, pushing in very slowly just in case you change your mind at any minute. he pauses when he feels your hips rise up and body tighten, only for you to take a deep breath and relax a moment later.

“feel so good, baby.” rafe says earnestly, pausing fully pushed inside of you, letting himself enjoy your warmth.

“i- just give me one second.” rafe pushing against your walls feels good, but you need a moment to adjust, hips moving up and down then side to side. “okay.” you nod. “you can move now.”

rafe presses a kiss to your lips as he begins to move, the make out turning into open mouthed moans as his hips swing back and forth, fucking into you with a steady rhythm.

“ohhhh!” you moan out as rafe speeds up slightly, your hands coming to hold onto his biceps, bulging as he keeps himself held up above you.

“that's it, baby.” rafe praises you as your thighs spread further apart, opening your pussy further for him. 

“i really like it.” you whine, back arching as rafe digs his cock in deeper, pausing every couple thrusts to circle his hips and grind into you.

“i like it too.” rafe hums. “best ive ever had.”

you roll your eyes, certain any of his other hookups are more experienced and a better time than you, but rafe won't let your doubts slide.

“im serious, baby.” rafe says, not pausing his thrusts as he speaks. “it's because i am completely in love with you.”

“come here.” you pull rafe into a kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close.

“you're so good i don't know how long ill last.” rafe admits.

“i-i already think i could too.” you giggle. “if you just touch me down there.”

“im gonna hold off as long as possible though.” rafe vows. “wanna give you the best time.”

“you already have.” you kiss rafe deeply, obsessed with the taste of his lips, the way they slide against yours and his tongue pokes out to enter your mouth, exploring every inch he can.

rafe picks up his pace and depth of his thrusts, knowing now that you've had plenty of time to get used to the feeling. despite wanting to give you the best experience and focus just on the pleasure of being together, he has to put his mind elsewhere to not cum too soon.

“so wet.” rafe groans, head tipping back as the sounds of your wetness gushing with his every thrust, the sound invading his ears along with the slapping of skin.

“ive never felt like this before.” you admit shyly.

“you're gonna feel this a lot more often.” rafe laughs softly, swallowing thickly when he realizes just seeing your smile and the light in your eyes pushes him closer to the edge.

“gonna touch you now, baby.” rafe shifts his weight slightly to one side, hand ghosting down your stomach before he places the pad of his thumb directly over your clit.

“oh, oh!” you squeal. “rafe!”

rafe keeps pumping into you as you moan, your high suddenly bursting forward, unable to hold back even a second longer as your legs wrap around rafes hips and pull him in.

rafe let's out a sigh of relief as he cums as deep inside of you as he can, bodies pressed flush together.

--

“do you have sunscreen?” you ask. “i know it's autumn and we aren't going to be swimming but it's still pretty bright out.”

“yeah, already got some in the bag.” rafe had woken up early and stayed cuddling you in bed for as long as he could before knowing he needed to get the day started.

while he let your body recover from last night activities, he prepared every single boat anchored on the dock so you could choose any one you wanted, as well as prepared a bag and cooler for the day.

by the time rafe crawled back into bed, you were blinking your eyes open.

“perfect.” you smile and give rafe a quick peck, taking the bag from his hands so he can carry the cooler. you shot down his protest with a quick look.

“fine.” rafe grumbles. “you can carry this one thing.”

“considering i don't even have to lift a finger when you're around, i really don't mind.” you chuckle, following rafe out the back door and across the patio to the long expansive dock stretching deep into the water.

“so…” rafe begins. “there's a smaller speedboat, a pontoon and then obviously the yacht.”

“is it okay if we take the pontoon?” you ask.

“anything you want.” rafe nods. “we got the pontoon for wheezie and her friends, but it's a nice smooth ride and a lot of space. when it gets warmer out im absolutely taking you for a swim.”

“that actually sounds really fun.” you admit. you swam in the ocean a lot in norfolk, always going to virginia beach to be alone with the sand and the calming waves whenever your anxiety levels got too high.

“mhm.” rafe nods. “fun for me too, get you out in a tiny little bikini, away from all other people…”

“oh my god.” you roll your eyes as you laugh. “we had sex once and you're already fantasizing!”

“i was fantasizing about you since the moment i saw you in my seat.” rafe takes the cooler and sets it on the pontoon before taking the bag from you. “i was just gentlemanly enough to keep it to myself.”

“sure.” you roll your eyes again, but it's all in jest, rafe knows you find him hilarious and love his silly jokes. rafe, to prove his gentleman status, reaches a hand down to help you up onto the boat.

“so…” rafe gives you a quick tour, showing you where towels are stored, even though you're not planning on swimming, and lifejackets, just in case.

“but seriously, it's basically impossible to sink a pontoon. you're very safe.” rafe stresses.

“it's okay.” you say. “i trust you, really.”

“my girl.” rafe pulls you onto his lap as he sits down in the captains seat.

rafe navigates easily through the waters, pointing out different landmarks along the coast. “thank you for showing me your home.” you tell rafe, pressing your back into his chest as you round a cove and the wind picks up slightly. “ill show you norfolk one day but it's not as pretty as here.”

“i can't wait to raise kids here.” rafe says. “teach them how to fish and golf and drive the boats.”

“you think about kids?” you turn on rafes thigh to look at him rather than the scenery.

“our kids.” rafe winks at you, causing you to giggle and press your face into his neck, but he really means it, especially bringing you back to his home. he could imagine toddlers footsteps running around tanneyhill.

“you're sweet.” you kiss his cheek.

“don't let that get around.” rafe squeezes your hip as he steers with one hand. “it'll ruin my reputation around here.”

“oh yeah?” you raise your eyebrows. “tell me more about this reputation…”

you happily listen to rafe talk until your stomach starts to growl. he picks up on it quickly, moving the boat further out so you can float down the coast while you eat.

you continue to talk all through lunch, snacking on what rafe had packed.

“there's a million things i want to show you around the island, which means you'll have to start spending all your breaks here if you're not going home.”

“let's see how your family likes me first…” you mutter, giving rafe a look.

“relax. they'll love you. my dad will just be happy i found someone serious. that was the main point of him sending me to duke, was to get my shit together. and i look at you… and i want to be perfect for you. i love you so much.”

--

“this movie is boring.” you groan. “how can you make a movie about sharks and have it be boring as hell?”

“we can change it.” rafe offers, going to grab the remote when you stop him.

“no, im too deep into it now. i just want to complain.” rafe nods at your explanation and cuddles back into the couch, pulling you in tight to him.

“well…” he whispers in your ear, breath causing you to shiver. “since you're bored, how about i entertain you?”

you're not sure what rafe means until his hand pushes between your thighs, three fingers pressing against your core and rubbing.

“ohhh.” you moan out softly, eyes fluttering closed. 

“sorry, love.” rafe says. “i couldn't wait until we got up into bed, not with my family getting home tomorrow. i need you too bad.”

“in… in my pants, please.” you take rafes hand, moving quicker for him to slip it below the hem and into your pajama pants, where rafe is pleased to find you aren't wearing any underwear.

his fingers stroke through your folds, feeling your wetness steadily growing before his finger prods against your entrance, slipping in with ease.

rafe watches as your eyes open to watch a scene playing out on the television before they close again when another boring part comes on, another monologue when you expected action.

“feel good?” rafe asks, glad that you aggressively nod. 

“don't you dare stop.” you spread your thighs a little wider, having to lift a leg over his to give him even more room to press into you, hand pressing in so his palm can rub against your clit.

“as soon as this stupid movie is done im taking you upstairs and fucking you so hard.” rafe growls the last words, putting all the effort he can into fingering you and massaging your clit that he possibly can.

his eyes light up when your back arches, mouth opening as small moans fall from your lips before you turn into a shaking mess as your high breaks, reaching down to stop rafes hand as you immediately become oversensitive.

“yum.” rafe says, pulling his hand away to lick your wetness off his fingers.

“ill just read the synopsis later, come on.” you tell rafe, standing up off the couch and pulling him up the stairs.

--

“please, call me ward.” rafes father says, graciously giving you a hug.

“well, it's nice to meet all of you.” you say with a wide smile on your face to hide your nerves, looking between rafes step mom rose and his littlest sister wheezie who looks genuinely excited to meet you. “and thank you so much for letting me stay in your beautiful home.”

“we were so glad when rafe told us he met someone.” rose lays a hand over her chest. “and my goodness, you're just even better than we imagined.

“she's a keeper for sure.” rafe places an arm around your waist, smiling down at you as you tuck your head down, cheeks tinging pink.

“so, you've got to tell us all about yourself.” ward sweeps his arm towards the living room, and soon you're all chatting on the couch that rafe fingered you on the night before. you push the memory to the back of your mind as you answer all of wards questions (and occasionally a few from wheezie).

“im a duke alumni myself.” ward says.

“oh, im well aware.” you chuckle. “your name is plastered all over the school. i think it's amazing that you invest in your alma mater.”

hours go by, rose insisting you all eat dinner together, before rafe finally has you alone in his room.

“god, they love you.” rafe says, watching you while you changing into pajamas, making him promise he wouldn't try anything with his parents under the same roof.

“i was trying to say all the right things.” you giggle. “i really like wheezie though, she's sweet.”

“im sure she won't argue if you want to take her out shopping tomorrow.” rafe offers.

“id actually love that. maybe ill invite sarah too so i can actually meet her.” sarah had ward drop her off at her boyfriend's house before they even came back home from their vacation, but you can't blame her for being a teen in love.

“ill give you my card then.” rafe says. you roll your eyes. rafe pays for everything, not that it even makes a dent in what you know he's being given as an allowance from ward and cameron enterprises.

“thanks babe.” you climb into bed, snuggling under the covers as rafe sets an alarm on his phone and makes sure both of yours are plugged in and charging.

“come here.” rafe opens up his arms once he's also under the covers, and you're glad to snuggle into his chest, heart rate instantly slowing and breathing deepening just from your cheek being pressed against his tshirt.

--

“rafe.” you hum, placing a hand on his thigh as he starts up the car.

“yeah baby?” rafe is fully prepared for you to ask to drive, or tell him you're not ready to go yet. he's willing to make whatever concessions needed to get you back to duke.

“can we make a stop in rahleigh? that's where my… friend from high school lives now, and id like to stop by quickly and just tell her im okay and that i accept her apologies.”

rafe nods, blinking away a few tears as he reaches over to give you a tight hug. “im so proud of you baby.”

you press your face into rafes neck, knowing you can do this when you have rafe by your side.

-- four years later --

“are you nervous?” rafe asks, watching you adjust the cap on your head.

“actually, no.” you admit honestly. “and if i do get nervous,” you turn away to face rafe. “ill just look at you.”

“oh god, come here.” rafe pulls you in tight, kissing the top of your head. 

“alright, come on.” you step out of the hug before it can go any further. “i dont wanna be late to my own graduation.”

“ah, you know i can delay it all with one phone call.” rafe tugs on your hand, tempting you back towards the bed.

“show off.” you roll your eyes, allowing rafe to pull you back to the mattress.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel and Wonder Woman

@actuel-idiot is a major reason I’m writing this! They gave me the idea so the credit goes to them.

Diana has a special relationship with Captain Marvel. They’re family. Technically. But they’re family! The man has no problem treating her like one of his own, and it’s not like Diana has any of her other family in man’s world so she’ll take what she can get. The only downside is that no one knows his actual identity, including Diana. Half the people in the JL don’t even believe he has one, but when Diana asked, he confirmed he did. She hoped that one day he would share his identity with her, but for the meantime, she’d just continue to enjoy their bond.

Like, for example, Diana talks to Marvel whenever she misses Themyscira. The very first time she started missing her home was about a few weeks after the JL formed. (Marvel’s a founding member in this post)

WW: “Captain, do you ever miss home?”

Marvel: “Hm? I guess so?” *confused*

WW: “You guess so? Do you not miss Olympus? I assume that’s where you grew up.”

Marvel: “Oh, no. I’ve never been to Olympus. If that’s what you mean by home. It isn’t.”

WW: “Then where is your home?”

Marvel: “Well, I haven’t had a home in a long time. So, I can’t particularly say. All I know is that I can’t go back, and as the years go by, I hate to say it but I barely remember it.” He only knows what his dad looks like due to his Marvel form, and he only remembers his mom due to Mary’s form. As for what they were like? A lot of the memories are fuzzy. “So, unfortunately… there isn’t really much to miss.”

WW: “Do you think I’ll forget about Themyscira?”

Marvel: “I don’t know. But that’s why it’s important to make a home wherever you go. That, and if you really don’t wanna forget, you can always try and find people who used to call your home theirs.” *shrugs*

WW: “I don’t believe there are any other Amazonians and man’s world.”

Marvel: “Well… not technically.” *little smile* “You know, a few thousand years ago I was an Amazonian at some point.”

WW: “What…?”

Marvel: “Shocking. I know.” *little laugh*

WW: “But you’re a man?” *dumbfounded expression*

Marvel: “Yeah, I know, but I wasn’t always. If you want, I could tell you some stuff about the first island.”

WW: “The first Themyscira? You were alive back then?”

Marvel: “Yup.”

WW: *stares for a bit* “I’d… I’d like that a lot. Please share.”

The two spend the rest of the evening talking about all the lore about Themyscira, Diana’s mother, Diana’s aunts, the culture back then, the dialects, and so on.

Then, there was the incident with Circe. She had cast a spell on Diana, turning her into a child. After it had happened, she left and soon a mini Diana was swarmed by the leaguers.

Marvel: “Wait, so she still knows who we all are, she’s just a little kid?”

Batman: *nods head* “Correct.”

WW: *looking around as the other leaguers fawn over her cause she’s adorable*

Batman: “It also altered her mindset, making her more childish.”

WW: *spots Marvel and her eyes sparkle* “Big brother!” *runs over to Marvel and crashes into his legs hugging them*

Marvel: “Woah!” *slightly startled at her running over* “Wow, Diana, you’re still so strong.” *takes on the tone he uses to talk to Darla (aka big brother/father tone) as he leans down to pick her up*

WW: *nods head* “Yeah!”

Marvel: *moves to carry her like she’s his own daughter*

The two proceed to talk about whatever as the other JL members coo at the two looking like father and daughter. Same black hair and blue eyes. Also, Zeus was gnawing at the bars of his metaphorical cage when he saw this. His daughter was too precious. As soon as the other leaguers blinked, he took little Diana and they proceeded to go fight Mr.Mind together. They then went for ice cream afterwords. Now, they’re eating their respective cones while sitting on the edge of a building.

Marvel: “You did such a good job, Diana. That one punch at that one robot that sent it flying into three other ones was amazing.” *smiles and ruffles Diana’s hair*

WW: *giggles and licks ice cream* “Thanks, dad.”

Marvel: *pauses mid bite of ice cream* (Yes, I’m making Billy bite his ice cream)

WW: *doesn’t even realize she said that*

Zeus: “You… YOU STOLE MY DAUGHTER?!” *thunderclouds in the distance*

Billy proceeded to have to make many offerings to Zeus to make him calm down after the incident. For a week straight, he kept getting little shocks whenever he touched stuff.

[candylix]

great minds think alike | bang chan

A sequel to blow my mind, read that one first! Pairing • Chan x GN!Reader Summary • After failing your test, you decide to go to the library to study. But when you get there, you see Chan. He wasn't the reason you failed, but he definitely didn't help. You said you weren't going to read his mind again, but after the first incident, he hasn't left your thoughts. It couldn't hurt to see what he's thinking about this time, right? Genre • college au, fluff, smut WC • 2.6k Content • sequel to blow my mind, no pronouns used but reader does have a vagina and breasts, mind reading, dirty thoughts about: asking you out 🥰, public sex, groping, thigh grinding, clit stimulation. Chan has an exhibitionism kink. Indented paragraphs indicate what's happening in his mind and not real life.

You really needed to bring your grade up. Normally you do alright, but that score was going to plummet your GPA. You never expected cheating to backfire so hard... but how could you possibly predict that the person you were mind reading would be thinking about sex the whole time?

This time, you'll be prepared the right way. You carry your textbooks and notes to the school library, and you're going to buckle down and study.

You enter the library with your foolproof plan in mind. You even set your timer for an hour, so you know when to take a break after all your hard work. But you freeze when you get to the tables and see a certain man already there.

Chan is studying too. You can feel your heartbeat thumping in your chest. After the test, you caught yourself thinking about him all the time. When you saw him, you felt butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to be around him, but you felt too anxious to say hi.

Safe to say, you've formed a little crush on him. It was embarrassing to admit to yourself, because you know how it happened. You read his mind, saw him fuck you on the desk, and now you want to hold his hand and kiss him.

Before you can even think rationally, you find yourself walking over to his table.

"Hey, mind if I study here?" you ask, mentally punching yourself for breaking the plan this easily.

He looks up, startled by the sudden intrusion, but his shock fades into a smile when he sees you.

"Go ahead," he responds. You pull out the seat across from him and put your stuff in front of you, as if you'll actually be able to get any studying done.

"Did you see your test score yet?" he asks.

"Yeah... let's just say there's a reason I came here to study."

"I didn't do too well either. Not bad, but not good."

"What happened?" you ask. You know what happened, but you want to see what he has to say.

"I, uh," he starts, and you see his cheeks start to flush. "I got a bit distracted."

'A bit distracted' is the understatement of the century.

"I hope I don't distract you, then."

He laughs nervously at your comment.

"Well, um, I'll get back to studying then," he says, and hides his face behind his laptop.

You open your textbook and think about studying, but you know you wont be able to resist peering into his mind. With the way he reacted, you know he's going to think about something interesting.

While pretending to read the book, you focus on him, and his thoughts gradually fill your head.

'Ok, Chan, focus. You can do this. Just... read your notes... focus... it would be rude to leave, right? I'm not gonna be able to focus like this.'

There was a small part of you that thought he didn't actually have feelings for you, and that he was just a pervert. But from the way he's struggling to study because you sat at his table, you can tell he really does like you.

'Do you want to go for coffee after this? No, that's stupid, it's too late to get coffee. What about... Wanna go see a movie sometime? That's stupid too. Ugh. How do you ask someone out without being cringy? Maybe I should buy some flowers? No, I'd have to carry them around all day like an idiot. This is too hard. I should just jump into a volcano. That would be easier... But this is such a good chance. I have to say something before I miss another perfect opportunity...'

His thoughts are racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what he's going to say to ask you out. He said something about missing another opportunity... how long has this been on his mind? You feel heat rise to your cheeks as you think of every time you talked, wondering when he was thinking of asking you out. There have been a few times where he looked like he was going to say something, but just kept quiet. Was that him chickening out? Maybe you should put him out of his misery and ask him to dinner.

You tune back into his mind, just in time for him to imagine a scenario involving you.

He's sitting in the library across from you, exactly how you are now, but he's wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses. "Hey babe, why don't you stop what you're doing and take a ride with me tonight. I'll make it worth your while." He winks, and a motorcycle comes crashing through the wall to stand next to him. He takes a seat on it, and you run up to get on behind him. He revs the engine a few times to look cool. You wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his six pack through his shirt. Then he rides the motorcycle out of the hole in the wall and into the sunset.

You can't stop a chuckle from escaping your lips.

"What are you laughing at?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Um, nothing. Just remembered something funny my friend said earlier," you lie.

You both go back to 'studying'. That was a close call. Not that he would ever guess what you're doing, but you did want to see where that fantasy was heading. You don't have to wait long before another one starts again.

You're both sitting in the library. He clears his throat, and you look up at him. "Sorry to interrupt, but... would you want to... maybe... go out with me?" he asks. "No." You say flatly. Then you take your textbook and smack him across the face, before leaving the room. 'Chan, that would never happen,' he thinks to himself. The daydream resets, and you're back where you were before, sitting across the table from him as if that never happened. He suddenly stands up, grabbing your attention, and walks over to your side of the table. He sits on your textbook, forcing you to look up at him. "We're done studying for today. I'm taking you out for dinner." "But-" "No buts. I won't take no for an answer." "I guess I have no choice then," you say, giggling. He fixates on your smile, they way you look at him, your lips... and everything freezes.

Chan buries his face in his hands. He wanted to be a cool, suave ladies man, but even in his imagination he loses his composure when you smile at him.

It's cute to see him like this, reminding you of when you read his mind during the test. The first thing he did was imagine holding your hand. It's possible that his feelings have gotten stronger since then, because now he's struggling just to ask you out in his romantic fantasies.

He's still sitting on the table in front of you, and he takes your hand, pulling you up to your feet. His other hand cups your cheek, and guides your face down to him. Your lips press into his, and you melt into the kiss. He breaks the kiss, and looks into your eyes. "Let's take a rain check on dinner," he says, and his hands move to the bottom of your shirt. "What are you-" you start, but he lifts your shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the side. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere as well, and he drinks in the sight of you. "Chan, we're in public. Someone might see us." "Good, let them. I want everyone to know these," he says, grabbing your tits, "are mine." With one hand on each breast, he massages them, and kisses you again. His thumb grazes over your nipples, and you moan into the kiss. You can feel him smile, and he pulls at your nipples while he gropes you. His hands travel down your stomach and to your waist. He's quick to unbutton your pants and pull them down. He massages your ass over your underwear, and his thigh parts your legs to rest itself under your cunt. You gasp, and he slips his tongue in, deepening the kiss. You roll your hips, rubbing your pussy on his muscular thigh. He grabs your waist to help guide you on him, and you continue grinding on his leg as the feeling in your pit starts to build. "Not so shy anymore, huh?" he teases. "You want everyone to see you humping my leg." You roll your hips against him faster, trying to feel as much as you can between multiple layers of fabric. He watches your breasts bounce as you buck against him, and he sits there mesmerized at how good you look when you're fucking yourself on him.

Your alarm goes off. You both jump in your seats. His daydream instantly vanishes as the noise brings you both back to reality. You scramble to shut it off.

"Sorry, I forgot I set that alarm." "Oh... Does that mean you're done?" he asks. He looks at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

'Shit. I was too busy being horny that I completely forgot to ask. Ugh.'

You decide that if you want to go out with him, you're going to have to ask him yourself. "Actually, I have something I wanted to ask you," you say, and he instantly perks up. Your feel your heart beating, and you hesitate for a moment. You know he'll say yes, but you still feel nervous all of a sudden. Asking someone out apparently doesn't get easier even if you have nothing to fear. Finally, you make yourself say the words.

"Do you want to go out sometime?" He pauses, and starts overthinking about what you could possibly mean. "Um... like you want to hang out? Like a friendly 'go out'?" "More like a date 'go out'."

"Oh... OH. Yes!" He coughs, trying to sound nonchalant. "Yeah, let's go out sometime."

He can't hold back the grin that forms on his face. "Actually, I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Really?" you say, feigning ignorance, "That's crazy. I didn't know you were interested in me."

"Yeah... I've liked you for a while," he says shyly, and his cheeks turn pink. God he's cute.

"In that case," you start, walking around to his side of the table and grabbing his hand, "there's something I want to do." You pull him up to his feet, and lead him to the bookshelves. You walk into an empty aisle near the back. "I really want to kiss you." His face turns bright red, and you can hear the thumping of his heartbeat. "O-ok," he stutters. He's completely different from the Casanova in his daydreams, but the juxtaposition is very endearing.

You cup his face and lean in for a kiss, and he kisses back softly. He doesn't know where to put his hands at first, but he rests them on your waist. Gently, you push him back against the bookshelves and press your body into him. He melts into the kiss, and his confidence grows enough to lower his hands to your ass.

For the first time, his thoughts are completely silent.

You're the first to break the kiss. "Do you want to go a bit further?" you ask. "Further...?" he asks, and when your hands leave his face to travel down to his hips, his eyes go wide. "What if someone walks in on us?"

"Then they'll know I'm all yours," you whisper. With the way you're pressed up against him, you can feel his erection forming. If his daydreams didn't convince you of his exhibitionism kink, this sure did.

He nods his head, and you lean back in for another kiss. You palm his crotch, and as you slowly stroke his bulge, you feel him harden under your touch. He grabs your hand, stopping it in its track. "What's wrong?" you ask. "Sorry, I just..." he hesitates for a moment, but continues, "I want to be the one touching you." You remember everything he's fantasized. That is what he likes. "Go ahead," you say. He turns you around so that your back is on his chest, and he brings his hand between your legs. He kisses your neck while he rubs you, and you lean your head back into him. His hand moves into your pants, and he feels the wet spot in your underwear. He moves it aside, and his fingers circle your clit. When he finds a spot that makes you twitch, he presses into it, rubbing it harder and faster until your body rocks into his hand. His other hand snakes under your shirt to grope your breast, and he plays with your nipple. He rubs it and pulls at it, earning a moan from you. The fingers on your clit stroke you faster, and you can hear how wet you are as he moves in and out of your folds. The sensations from your breast and your core has you bucking wildly on him, and your ass presses against his dick. He buries his face into your shoulder, dampening the moan he lets out. He grinds into you from behind, with no rhythm in his movements.

You can feel your orgasm building, and you can't control how you hump Chan's hand while he continues his brutal pace against your cunt. He works his fingers, caressing your folds and rubbing a sensitive spot. You writhe under his touch, and you know you're close. You feel the dam burst, and he continues to rub circles around your clit as you buck into his hand, riding out your high. His hand continues to hold your pussy as he humps your ass, feeling his own orgasm building. He moans, and his pace slows down as he finishes on you. You're both breathing heavily, and he takes his hand out of your pants.

You both lower yourselves to the ground in exhaustion, and you turn to face him. He leans back against the bookshelf. "You don't know how much I wanted to do that," he finally says, and you have to stop yourself from saying yes, you did know.

"Me too," you admit.

As much fun as it was peeping into his thoughts, the real thing felt way better.

"Do you... want to make plans for our date?" he asks. You completely forgot about that in the heat of the moment. "Maybe we should get cleaned up before we think about next time." "Oh, right. Do you want to come to my dorm to shower?" he asks, before adding "Just to get cleaned up! I didn't mean- unless you want to-"

"Yes," you say, answering his question before he overthinks and uninvites you. "I don't want to have to go home like this."

"Yeah, um, alright. Come with me."

You go back to the table to get your stuff, which thankfully is still there, and he leads you to his dorm.

You didn't end up studying, but you did end up with a boyfriend, and that's more important anyways.

Although he would argue otherwise.

EPILOGUE:

You're chilling in Chan's room while you wait for your final grades to show up on the school website. You check your phone, it's finally the time they said it would be posted. You both open the website.

"Yes!" he yells, "I got a 93%!"

You wait for the page to load, and when you see your mark, you breathe a sigh of relief.

You barely passed, with 1% over the failing grade, but a pass is a pass nonetheless. Your GPA fell significantly after you started dating Chan, but it worked out in the end.

He looks at your score.

'Wow, what a terrible grade.'

He looks back at you.

"Hey, you passed! Great job!" he says, and gives you a high five.

[lizzieolseniskinda]

TOM RIDDLE - soulmates don’t exist PT. 3

SDE MASTERLIST - x FEM!reader (POC!friendly)

SUMMARY: everything changes for you when snape gives you a certain memory. will you be able to do the task that dumbledore has given you?

WORD COUNT: 4677

GENRE: angst-ish (but not really)

CONTENT WARNING: soulmate (soulbound) & time travel au, english is not my first language, i took names of professor in harry's time (it's easier that way)

You were walking through the Hogwarts courtyard, bundled up in your robes as the wind carried a hint of the colder months that were coming. The sun filtered through the canopy of orange and red; it was a cold day without the sun. As you approached the Gryffindor common room after breakfast, you spotted Lucas—tall, with his messy black curls and easygoing grin—leaning casually against the wall.

“There you are!” he called out, pushing off the wall and strolling over to you. “I’ve been looking for you. Fancy coming with me to Hogsmeade? I’ve got some things to pick up, and I thought you could use a break from all the studying.”

You raised an eyebrow, interested. “And by ‘things,’ you mean what exactly?”

“Important stuff!” Lucas replied with mock seriousness. “Like sweets from Honeydukes and a new quill, since I keep losing mine. And, of course, we have to stop at Zonko’s - can’t leave without some supplies for our next prank on Maeve.”

You let out a laugh, feeling the tension of the past few years slip away. You figured you could use a shopping day - it was a Saturday after all; you could just study after. “Sounds like a plan, though I’m not sure if Maeve would be happy with another one of your ‘masterpieces’.”

“She’ll survive. Besides, I’ve got a new idea that’ll totally blow her mind; just wait and see,” Lucas nudged you playfully.

As you made your way down the long, winding path to Hogsmeade, a sleek black cat caught your eye. It seemed to be lingering just out of reach; you’d seen the cat a few times today, always trailing a few paces behind, watching you with its bright, curious green eyes. It had followed you from the common room to the courtyard, through the grounds, and now it was walking behind you and Lucas as though it belonged with the two of you.

“Look at that,” you murmured, glancing over your shoulder at the cat. “It’s been following me this entire day.”

Lucas turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly at the feline. “Huh, that’s a little weird, don’t you think? Cats don’t usually follow people around for no reason.”

You crouched down and extended a hand toward the cat. To your surprise, it didn’t hesitate. The cat padded forward and nuzzled your palm; its fluffy and soft fur was warm, despite the chill in the air. You smiled, scratching it behind the ears.

“I think it likes me,” you said, looking up at Lucas. “Maybe it's a stray. What do you think?”

Lucas crossed his arms and looked at the cat with a suspicious expression. “It's a little too good to be true, don’t you think? A mysterious black cat following you around Hogwarts. You know there are loads of horror stories about witches using cats as spies, right?”

“You're paranoid,” you rolled your eyes at him, but smiled.

“I’m cautious,” Lucas corrected, though there was a small teasing glint in his eyes. “But if you’re set on keeping it, we should make sure it’s not... I don’t know, an Animagus or something. Better safe than sorry, right?”

“You think someone’s been using this little thing to spy on me?”

Lucas shrugged, but he was already pulling out his wand. “Could be, perhaps. There’s a simple charm to check for such things; it won’t hurt the cat - you have my promise.”

You stood up and took a step back, “Okay, but I’m telling you, it’s just a normal cat.”

Lucas raised his wand, pointing it at the cat as he muttered the incantation under his breath. A faint blue light shimmered from the tip of his wand. It surrounded the cat for a moment before fading away.

You both stared at the cat in silence, holding your breath, waiting for whatever was about to happen. But the cat just blinked up at you, then licked its paw nonchalantly.

Lucas let out a breath, “Phew... what do you know? It’s just a regular old cat.”

“Told you,” you smirked, “looks like you’re now stuck with me and my new pet.”

The cat - as if it sensed your affectionate words - let out a soft purr and wound itself around your legs once more. You knelt down and scratched behind its ears again. A bond was already beginning to form. The only problem was the lice and many more things that were scattered across its fur.

"Alright, alright," Lucas said, laughing. "I suppose it shouldn’t be a problem.”

With the cat in tow, you and Lucas continued down the path to Hogsmeade. The bustling village was already alive with students and locals; shops were gleaming with fresh stock and festive decorations for upcoming festivities. As you entered Honeydukes, the warmth of the shop’s interior enveloped you, along with the sweet scent of sugar and chocolate.

“So, what’s your go-to sweet?” Lucas asked as he grabbed a basket, eyeing the chocolate frogs with heart eyes.

“Maybe the peppermint toads?” you said with a grin, grabbing a small bag from the shelf. “They’re the perfect balance of sweet and refreshing.”

Lucas pulled a face, “You’re a maniac. It’s all about the fizzing whizzbees.”

Both of you wandered through the aisles, piling your basket high with various candies - sugar quills, licorice wands, jelly slugs. At one point, Lucas tried to sneak a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans into your bag, but you caught him just in time.

“You’re not tricking me into eating vomit-flavored beans again!” you narrowed your eyes at him.

Lucas laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I'll save it for someone else.”

After stocking enough sweets to last almost a month, you and Lucas headed to Zonko’s. The shop was just as chaotic as expected, filled with exploding fireworks, laughing gas, and all manner of joke items. Lucas was in his element, darting from one display to the next with an excitement you hadn't seen since your first year at Hogwarts when you'd go shopping with the Weasleys.

It made you wonder if there was a Weasley in this timeline, or a Potter; surely there must—

“I’ve got it,” Lucas broke your trance, holding up a box of nose-biting teacups. “We’ll switch Maeve's regular tea with one of these. Can you imagine the look on her face?”

You shook your head, grinning, “You’re terrible.”

“Hey! You’re the one who agreed to come with me,” he replied, winking. “Makes you an accomplice.”

After spending almost an hour in Zonko’s, you finally dragged Lucas away before he bought the entire store. The two of you made your way back to Hogwarts, the pockets of your robes stuffed with sweets, joke items, and - in your case - also a black cat nestled happily in your arms.

“Already thought of a name?” Lucas asked as you strolled along the path.

You looked down at the cat, who had fallen asleep in your arms, still purring softly. “I’m not so sure yet; maybe something like ‘Shadow’?”

“Shadow,” Lucas mused, “hm, not bad; fits the whole ‘following you everywhere’ thing it’s got going on.”

You laughed, feeling the warmth of the cat’s fur against you. Despite the whirlwind of chaos that had brought you here, there was something so comforting about the small creature that had decided to be your companion.

And as you and Lucas made your way back to the castle, joking and teasing each other, you felt like things were normal, like you were just a regular student at Hogwarts, living in a time untouched by war and dark magic.

You went to sleep that day feeling better already, with the small feline curled up at the end of your bed, purring, its little collar having a little bell that you bought in a shop.

The following morning, you made your way down the main hall, the familiar hum of chatter and clicking of cutlery filling the air. It was officially your second week at Hogwarts, and though you were still getting used to the time period, you started to have a routine.

You reached the Gryffindor table and spotted your friends, already gathering around a platter of toast and eggs; some of them had pancakes. They waved you over and made space as you slipped onto the bench beside them.

“Morning, y/n!” Maeve greeted brightly, pushing a pitcher of pumpkin juice toward you. Her curly hair was a little wild this morning, as if she didn’t care. “Sleep well?”

You poured yourself a glass. “Pretty well, all things considered. I think I’m getting used to these weird ancient beds.”

Alicia snorted, her red hair falling into her eyes as she reached for a stack of pancakes. “Weird ancient beds? Try getting used to the weird ancient ghosts! I had Nearly Headless Nick hovering over my bed last night, telling some kind of story about jousting. I barely slept.”

“Better Nick than Peeves, though. That poltergeist kept chucking ink at me during Charms yesterday,” Maeve giggled, spreading jam on a piece of toast.

You laughed, feeling a warmth in your chest that you weren’t expecting. These girls had made everything feel… lighter. The constant worry in the back of your mind lessened. Here, in the morning sunlight with breakfast laid out before you, you almost forgot the real reason why you were here.

“Mm, speaking of Charms,” Maeve said, glancing at her timetable. “We’ve got it again this morning. Think Professor Flitwick will finally let us practice summoning spells?”

“I certainly hope so,” Lilith spoke as quietly as ever, but her eyes were sparkling with excitement. “Right? I’ve been dying to try action on something bigger. Imagine being able to summon an entire plate of pastries!” Lucas exclaimed.

“As if we need more reasons for you to get distracted during class, Luca,” Alicia rolled her eyes.

They continued to chatter about the day ahead while you found your gaze wandering around. The students were busy with their own conversations; some were studying, others were yawning over cups of tea, while some were also scribbling down last-minute notes for their morning classes. Everything felt so normal.

When your eyes landed on the Slytherin table, the illusion of normalcy shattered. You’d almost forgotten about him.

Tom Riddle. He was sitting at the center, surrounded by his usual group of admirers. He was composed, elegant even, as he buttered a piece of toast, speaking quietly to a blonde male next to him.

You looked away quickly before his group—or him—could notice you staring. “You’re awfully quiet this morning,” Maeve nudged you with her elbow.

“Everything alright?”

You gave a smile, hoping it didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, just thinking about today.”

“Don’t worry about it too much; it’s only the second week,” Lucas smiled. “Besides, you’re part of the group now. We’re in this together.”

“No backing out,” Lilith added, and for a second, you thought you’d melted.

You smiled, relaxing. You felt it reach your eyes; a sense of belonging wandered around in the back of your mind.

Breakfast continued, and so did the conversation to a more light-hearted topic: Alicia’s and Lilith’s excitement about the next Hogsmeade trip, Lucas’s plans for another elaborate prank on their dorm mate, and Maeve’s ongoing battle with Peeves. You listened, laughed, and chimed in the conversation whenever you could.

Maeve slung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. “Come on, y/n. Let’s see if we can make it to Flitwick’s class before Luca drags us to the kitchens for more pastries.”

“I resent that,” Lucas called over his shoulder, “but I do want more pastries.”

You smiled and grabbed your bag as you followed them out of the Great Hall, trying to savour the last few minutes of peace before the day truly began.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡charms class:

When you arrived at the Charms class, it was buzzing with quiet energy as tired students filed in, quills and textbooks clutched in their hands. You took a seat next to Maeve on your left side. Behind another desk with space in between you two sat another girl—Slytherin.

“Good morning, everyone! Today, we will be practicing summoning charms—Accio!” Professor Flitwick said loudly, standing on a stack of books at the front of the class as he clapped his hands to get the attention of all the students.

An exciting murmur passed through the room. You realized how, in their fifth year, they learn about summoning spells in this timeline, while in Harry’s timeline you learned more defensive spells or memory spells. The difference was huge.

Summoning charms were pretty basic, but growing up in times like you did, you almost had no time getting used to a simple spell like Accio while you could easily Obliviate someone or use the Patronus charm.

“Partner up!” Flitwick instructed. You turned to look at Maeve, who was already grinning at you.

“I’ve been practicing this all week,” Maeve said, wiggling her eyebrows. “Let’s see if I can summon a bigger thing than a quill this time.”

“Alright, but if you summon a desk by accident, you’re responsible,” you teased her, setting your wand on your desk.

Maeve pointed her wand at one of the cushions Flitwick had left for practice. “Accio cushion!” she shouted, her wand slicing through the air.

The cushion zoomed toward her, though it wobbled slightly before landing in her arms. “Not bad, right?”

You clapped lightly. “That was impressive!”

Maeve jokingly gave a little bow to you. “Your turn!”

You focused on a cushion that was lying a few feet away, envisioning it flying smoothly into your hands. After a flick of your wand, you called out,

“Accio cushion!”

The cushion shot toward you with more speed than you expected, hitting you on your chest slightly and knocking you back slightly. You laughed, catching it just in time. Maeve burst into giggles beside you.

“Well, at least it's working,” you said with a grin. Putting the cushion down, you glanced around the room and caught sight of Tom. He was practicing at the far end of the classroom. He performed the spell flawlessly, his cushion gliding into his hands with barely a flick of his wrist. His focus was intense, almost unnerving.

You quickly turned towards Maeve again, not wanting to dwell on him.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡potions class:

The potion classroom in the dungeons was dark and cool; the only source of light was flickering. A mushy and earthy scent of ingredients filled the air as you sat down next to Alicia at one of the tables near the back.

“Right,” Alicia said, pulling out her ingredients. “I’ve got a good feeling about today’s potion. We’re supposed to make something simple, so there’s no way I can accidentally melt my cauldron like last week.”

You snickered. “Simple or not, I still think you have a way to make the easiest potions chaotic.”

Before Alicia could respond, Professor Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed across the room. “Today, my dear students, we will be brewing a calming draught. Quite useful for, uh, stressful situations.” He winked at the class. “-“I’m sure none of you feel stressed, though.”

You could feel the irony of the assignment, given how much stress you were actually under without anyone really knowing. You could probably use a calming draught or two just to get through the day.

Slughorn’s face was surrounded with enthusiasm as he demonstrated the first few steps, his eyes darting over the class with interest. You gathered the ingredients you needed and carefully measured out the valerian root, hellebore syrup, and the fluxweed oil.

“So, you think Slughorn’s going to invite you to one of his little parties?” Alicia asked as she ground some peppermint into powder.

You shrugged, keeping your focus on your cauldron as you stirred it clockwise. “Not very likely. I don’t really know what those parties are even about,” you lied. You went to one meeting with Hermione and decided to never go again. Simply a waste of time.

Alicia raised an eyebrow. “Well, Slughorn kinda ‘collects’ talented students. You’re smart, plus you’re new and kind. So, I’d say you're prime Slug Club material.”

You smiled at her. “We’ll see,” you said quietly. “Plus, I think Riddle is in Slug Club,” Alicia whispered.

You almost spilled the peppermint that you were trying to add into your potion. “Sorry, what?” you gaped at her. She scoffed at you and smiled. “Don’t act dumb; I always see you looking at him.”

Your potion turned to a soft blue—that was a good sign. “What??? No, I don’t…” you mumbled and glanced over at Alicia’s cauldron, which was bubbling a little too vigorously.

“Uh, Alicia... are you sure you didn’t add too much oil?” you asked her, eyeing the bubbles. “You’re not getting out of this conversation, Y/N,”Alicia said while she kept adding oil.

“No, no, I’m serious; look at those bubbles.”

“Oh, oops,” Alicia gasped and quickly turned down the heat under her cauldron. “Well, at least it’s not melting this time.”

You laughed softly, helping her adjust the potion before it boiled over. Potions was always a mix of stress and humor with Alicia. Seems like you're not as slick as you thought you were.

⋆｡⋆˙⟡transfiguration class:

Dumbledore’s class, there was a different energy in the air. The room was spacious and bright; high arched windows were letting beams of sunlight in that illuminated against the desks. Dumbledore was standing at the front. “Today,” Dumbledore began, “we will attempt one of the more advanced transfigurations: turning inanimate objects into animals. Quite the leap from last week’s matchsticks to needles, wouldn’t you say?”

Maeve leaned over to you, whispering, “What if we give a four-legged animal six legs by mistake?”

You snickered quietly.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and a stack of stones appeared on each of the students’ desks. “Your task today is to transform this stone into small creatures of your choosing: a mouse, perhaps, or a bird. Be gentle and focus.”

You pointed your wand at the stone, visualising a small bird. With clear focus, you flicked your wand, saying the incantation softly.

To your surprise, the stone started shifting, wings sprouting from its sides as it transformed into a tiny sparrow. It fluttered its wings in confusion before hopping onto your desk.

“Well, aren’t you just the star pupil,” Maeve teased with a grin. She was still poking at her half-transformed stone, which looked more like a stone with some fur on it.

From the front of the class, Dumbledore’s eyes met yours briefly, and he gave a small approving nod. You continued helping Maeve when you caught a glimpse of Tom Riddle a few rows ahead. His magic was perfect—obviously. The stone in front of him had turned into a sleek, black raven that perched on his desk with eerie calm.

You sighed, forcing yourself to focus more on Maeve and her furry rock. There would be plenty of time to think about Tom later, but the time was ticking, and you knew it

Shadow, the cat that you’d taken in, padded silently beside you as you made your way to the library. You smiled down at him; Shadow had proven to be nothing more than a sweet, lovely companion. The cat had followed you everywhere except for classes.

“You like books, don’t you?” you murmured to the cat as you entered the library, earning a few curious glances from other students. Shadow flicked his tail and trotted ahead of you, his sleek form disappearing between two towering bookshelves.

The library was quiet and warm, even after dinner. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and dust. You loved it in the library; it felt like a sanctuary, a place where time stood still.

Wandering through the shelves, you scanned the spines of the books you passed. Every so often, you’d glance behind you to make sure Shadow was still with you. Reaching a shelf tucked in a quiet corner of the library, you found a book you'd been looking for - The Founder’s Legacy: A History of Hogwarts. It was a book you needed for your Muggle Studies.

You pulled it down and tucked it under your arm, turning to leave the aisle; but when you did, you noticed Shadow was gone. “Shadow?” you called softly, careful not to disturb the other students. The silence of the library seemed to grow louder, your eyes searching for the black fur you had grown accustomed to.

Frowning, you stepped out of the aisle, looking around for any sign of the cat. Only a few students were scattered around the tables, their heads buried in their studies. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him.

At one of the far tables, seated in his usual spot near the back of the library, was Tom Riddle.

With Shadow.

Your breath caught in your throat. The sleek black cat had made himself comfortable on the edge of Tom’s open book, his paws kneading the pages as he purred contentedly. Tom didn’t seem bothered by the interruption. In fact, he was watching the cat with an odd expression - almost as if he was amused, though his features remained calm and composed as always.

For a second, you just stood there, contemplating all your life’s choices. Seeing Shadow so comfortable made your heart race. Tom Riddle, the person you were meant to change, was casually petting the cat you had taken in, and it made your situation feel even more surreal.

But only you couldn't keep standing there forever, staring at Tom Riddle.

So, you summoned up your courage and slowly walked over to the table, forcing yourself to remain calm even though you could feel your chest preparing for a panic attack.

“Looking for this?” His voice was soft but cold as he gestured to the cat with a slight raise of his hand. Shadow meowed happily and stretched out his paws, pushing against Tom's book as if he had claimed it for himself.

Hearing Tom’s voice changed something in you; a warm feeling spread through you.

“Yes,” you said, your voice steady, trying to ignore all the feelings you were feeling at once. “I didn’t realise he’d wandered off.”

Tom’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, studying you with the same unsettling intensity you’d noticed in class. Then he looked back at the cat, one hand absently touching behind Shadow’s ear. The cat purred louder, pressing into the touch as though he had always belonged there.

“He seems to like me,” Tom observed. You had to hold back a scoff, so you forced a smile. “He’s a friendly one.”

“I can see.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You cleared your throat and stepped forward, reaching for Shadow. “Well, I should get him out of your way; he’s probably disturbing your reading. Or studying, or whatever…”

Tom didn’t move at first, and for a brief second, you thought he might not let you take back your cat. But then he pulled his hand back. Shadow, oblivious to the tension, stretched lazily before hopping off the table and rubbing against your leg.

You cradled Shadow in your arms as you tried to steady your nerves.

You felt Tom’s gaze linger on you for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to his book, his expression unreadable. “Be careful,” he said, his voice low. “Not everything that follows you is harmless.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. Was that a warning? Or something more? Before you could reply, Tom had already turned the page of his book, his focus shifting away from you as though the conversation had never happened

A chill ran down your spine as you hugged Shadow closer. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you turned around.

Tom’s cryptic words echoed in your thoughts. You were halfway to the library’s entrance when you spotted Lucas striding toward you, hands tucked in his pockets, that ever-present grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He seemed completely at ease, as though the world was just a big joke waiting to be told.

“There you are!” he called out in a low voice, somewhat mindful of the library’s strict silence policy. He walked right up to you, his sharp blue eyes scanning your face before flicking over to the spot where Tom was sitting. “I saw you over there, chatting with Riddle.”

“Yeah... Shadow wandered over to him,” you smiled slightly, still not fully calmed down, but Lucas’s presence helped a bit.

Lucas smiled. “Look, I’m just gonna say it: I’ve seen you stare at him at times, and you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Whatever he’s said to you—”

“He said something about not everything that follows you is harmless,” you interrupted him, needing to get it off your chest.

“Okay, stop. That’s freakishly creepy,” Lucas gaped, stealing a glance at Tom. “Just... try to ignore him. Riddle’s either got everyone thinking he’s the hottest thing to walk these halls, or they think he’s bloody weird.”

Your curiosity piqued. “And what do you think?”

Lucas paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. His grin returned. “Both.”

You chuckled at his bluntness. “Both?”

You walked out of the library, your book long forgotten on the table you were supposed to be studying at. “Yeah, he’s good looking. I mean, objectively speaking,” Lucas said. “But there’s something about him that’s off. Like, he’s too good at... well, everything. It's unnatural; people are drawn to him, but they’re also... I don’t know, scared of him. You know? Even if they don't want to admit it.”

You nodded, thinking back to how Tom had looked at you - the way his eyes seemed to see right through you. There was definitely something unnerving about him. “He’s strange. Almost like he’s always one step ahead of everyone.”

“Exactly,” Lucas agreed. “It’s like he’s playing a game no one else knows the rules to. Trust me, best to keep your distance.”

“I wasn’t planning on making friends with him,” you said, shifting Shadow in your arms. The cat blinked lazily up at you.

“Good, I’ve got enough trouble without having to rescue you from the dark and mysterious Tom Riddle,” Lucas replied, giving you a reassuring smile.

You let out a laugh. “Thanks, Lucas. I’ll be sure to tell you first if I get in over my head.”

Lucas grinned. “I’ll be there, wand at the ready.”

The two of you started to head toward the common room together, the tension that had been knotted in your chest since your encounter with Tom slowly began to ease. Lucas had a way of making things feel lighter, like no matter how complicated the situation got, he’d find a way to make it less scary.

“Anyway,” Lucas said, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you walked, “enough about Riddle. Did you get what you came for? Or are we heading back in for round two of ‘Tom the Cat Whisperer’?”

You smirked, shaking your head. “No more rounds with him for today, thanks. I think I’ve had my fill of mysterious brooding for the time being. But I do think I might’ve left my book in there.”

Lucas laughed again, his voice carrying through the halls. “We’ll get it first thing tomorrow. And if you do like him, just don’t go falling for that whole dark-and-mysterious thing. I won’t judge you.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him playfully. “Please. You know I prefer my friends a little less brooding and a little more… fun.”

“See? That’s the right attitude.” He gave you a wink, his smile warm and genuine. “Stick with me. I’m way more fun than some dark wizard-in-training.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. As strange and intense as things had become, Lucas was a constant source of light. Maybe, just maybe, he’d help keep you grounded as you navigated the dangerous path ahead.

a/n: posted a bit earlier, but umm, i was thinking of naming the cat crookshanks first - so she has a reminder of hermione, harry and ron. but idk :( alsooooo, i'll probably update on sunday for this serie (loads of homework)

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𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝

Summary: A glimpse into Eddie’s morning as a first time and young dad with his baby. Oh, and you’re there, too.

Warnings: allusions to sexy stuff, descriptions of breastfeeding (it’s natural—suck it up), and fluff.

a/n: pulled this one out of the vault for you guys, written last July. hope you like it!

Eddie’s up before you and surprised to see it’s light outside, a sight he hasn’t woken up to in the last couple of months. Two, to be exact.

  That’s when the two of you had brought Penny home.

  Eddie yawned, impressively loud before he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaze flickering to you but you were still asleep; on your stomach with your face partially hidden in your pillow. You’d successfully kicked the sheets off yourself in your sleep, leaving your legs bare and your top half covered with one of Eddie’s larger shirts. 

  One of your legs was bent at the knee and raised up near your elbow.

  God, you always looked so fucking delectable. All he’d have to do is rouse you with some kisses pressed to your neck, settle himself behind you, pull his boxers down and move your panties to the side and he could just—

  Eddie inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from your body before his blood could rush off to an area he didn’t have the time to acknowledge, as the very reason he couldn’t partake in his little fantasy cooed from her crib. 

  She’d been the result of a very similar event.

  He took a couple of moments to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he promised, soon.

  Then he got out of bed, snagging a band t-shirt from the dresser as he walked to the crib on the other end of the room.

  Eddie yanked on the shirt—only briefly struggling with the arm holes—before he was peering into the crib, mouth breaking out in a megawatt grin.

  Penny was awake alright, big brown eyed stare focused on a sticker that had been plastered to the wall of his room long before she was even conceived. You’d swaddled her before putting her to bed last night, so she looked like an adorable, content burrito.

  Once she realized Eddie was hovering over her, the sticker lost her attention and those big beautiful eyes were on him, sparkling as her mouth parted in a gummy smile big enough to rival his own. 

  Daddy came to rescue her from confinement. 

  “Hi, baby, good morning!” Eddie cooed, trying his best to excitedly whisper so as to not disturb you, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so thrilled—and fucking terrified—to be a dad, to have that cute face peering up at him every morning and waiting for him when he got home from work. She always looked at him like he was the greatest thing to walk the earth, always so delighted to see her daddy.

  Even though she’d start crying for you the moment you came into view—but you had an advantage he lacked, you always had her food on you. Her walking meal ticket.

  And Eddie couldn’t even blame her, he was a huge fan of your boobs and he’d even bet he appreciated them more than Penny. 

  Eddie reached into the crib, tugging the tucked in corner of the blanket out and as the blanket around her loosened, Penny’s arms shot up near her head, her tiny body arching as she stretched for a comically long period of time. Eddie chuckled, using it to his advantage, he slipped an arm behind her back and head with the other supporting her bottom as he picked her up, pressing a kiss to her head (and giving her hair a secret little sniff to get a whiff of that baby scent of hers).

  “Did you sleep good, honey?” He cradled her in one arm, tucked close to his chest as he carried her out of the room to start on breakfast. 

  Penny obviously didn’t answer, head resting against his collarbone.

  “Heard you woke up mom last night—well, early this morning, I guess—with boobie demands.”

  Eddie pulled the fridge open, hovering in front of it as he debated on its contents before selecting the cartridge of eggs.

  He didn’t want to put Penny down, happy to have her curled up in his arms, so a simple breakfast would have to do. A pan was pulled out, so was a little bit of cooking oil and soon Eddie was breaking the eggs out of the shell—angling his body to the side so Penny wasn’t at risk of possible oil splash back—and letting them cook.

  “You like eggs?” Eddie asked, stepping a little ways from the stove as he hitched her higher on his chest and held the eggshells out for her to see.

  She kicked her legs, a roll covered arm shakily reaching out towards the shells but Eddie kept them out of her reach.

  “Uh-uh, no sticky fingers for you, young lady.”

  The shells were tossed in the trash can but Penny didn’t care, twisting her upper so her chest was pressed to his. She gripped his shirt loosely in her chunky fist as she leaned forward and mouthed at his shoulder, effectively soaking the area with her drool before she began to suckle.

  “Jesus, you act like we starve you.” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a recently washed pacifier to pop into her mouth.

  She seemed to prefer it over his shirt, doing a full body sigh once she was suckling on it, with her need partially sated (eddie knew he had about fifteen minutes to wrap up breakfast before she realized nothing was coming from it and would start crying), Penny went back to cuddling into his chest. 

  She was starting to be a little more active—not sleeping as much as she did this time last month but for the most part, her movements were still unstable. She had good neck control (you’d had to pin Eddie down to keep him from picking her up when she’d immediately cry upon being put down for tummy time), she liked to kick her legs like she was about to take off for a marathon, but she still couldn’t quite hold things for long (unless it was hair or fingers) and had yet to roll over without you cheating and nudging her the rest of the way.

  Speaking of making Penny do things…

  Eddie lost to his intrusive thought, rearranging his hold on Penny so he was gently grasping her sides as he placed her feet on the counter. Immediately, she popped down to squat before shooting up again. And then she did it once more, getting comfortable with using her legs.

  She didn’t even seem to wonder why Eddie was making her stand, she was more focused on staring intensely at her own feet.

  Then Eddie made her jump, lifted her up and down and up and down, and when that got her smiling wide enough for her pacifier to fall out of her mouth, Eddie moved onto the cabinets.

  “Go, baby, go!” He turned her on her side, miming the motions of her chunky legs running over the top cabinets like some baby ninja and laughing at how big her smile managed to keep getting, her big eyes squinting with it.

  “What are you doing to my baby?” You asked as you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

  “She’s gonna be the next Karate Ki—hello.”

  Eddie couldn’t help himself, dark gaze trailing over your figure as you stood there, hair a wreck, no pants, oversized t-shirt—ooh, and a leaking nipple. 

  Eddie’s favorite. Yum.

  You followed his gaze, scoffing at the dark stain growing over your left boob, hand pressing against it to stop it as if you were applying pressure to a wound.

  “It heard her,” You pouted, lip stuck out and wobbling at him as you referenced your body’s response to the sound of your baby. Crying, giggling, whimpering—didn’t matter, your milk ducts went into overdrive, aware that your baby was conscious and could need a feeding. Her baby noises were like a trigger sequence.

  Eddie lifted Penny to his face, pressing fervent kisses into the chub of her cheeks, “Score for you, babe!”

  You rolled your eyes, completely, utterly fond and smitten over the interaction. He briefly abandoned the kitchen to hand her to you after you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, ready to fall to his knees in adoration.

  You pulled the shirt over your breast, and despite trying to place your nipple in her mouth for her, Penny struggled to find it, mouthing greedily at your boob, her little head turning this way and that way but always missing the peak. 

  “Girl, it’s right there.” You laughed. Penny gave it like four more seconds of trying before her whimpers kicked in and you hurriedly managed to get her to latch, stopping the outburst.

  And just like that, Penny was content, making satisfied little squeaks as she nursed and stared up at you, pretending like she hadn’t been moments away from screaming her lungs out.

  And Eddie was distracted, solely focused on the two of you and how he wanted to roll around on the carpet because the cuteness aggression was almost unbearable. If this was how he would be spending every work-free morning for the rest of his life, he was ready to convert to being a morning person.

  Especially if those big sparkly eyes and that gummy smile would be staring up at him. GOD-she was so stinking cute. He wanted to smother her in his affection, but she was growing annoyed with Eddie all up in her face and squishing the chub she was accumulating. She even cried if he faked chewed on her chunky cheeks for too long.

  “What’s that smell?” You asked, snapping him out of his love stupor as you sniffed loudly.

  “FUCK!” Eddie bolted back to the kitchen, smoke surrounding the pan and what had once been edible eggs, “Hey, honey, what’s your opinion on extra crispy eggs? You a risk taker?”

“The answer to that is hurting my nipple right now.”

“Valid. That was a very fun risk.”

divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡

[yxtubers]

✮ 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 . . .

⤷ hamzahthefantastic x reader

🗒️ summary: hamzah and his weird obsession with manhandling you

warnings: some parts may be slight suggestive/nsfw. if you are under the age of 18, please proceed with caution. i do not take responsibility for what you consume online.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

from seeing the way he holds his cat to the way he lifts entire speakers up without a huff or a puff i can definitely see hamzah lightly manhandling his girlfriend

you’ll be sitting on the couch, comfy and cozy as you scroll through your phone or read a book and he’ll show up and just kind of maneuver you so that you’re laying in his lap or even sitting on him (because he wants to see what you’re looking at too)

neither of you can really pinpoint a specific place and time that it started, but one day he started and just never stopped. for example:

⤷ you were walking down the street with hamzah after meeting your friends for a birthday dinner. it wasn’t anything too fancy, but you had opted to wear heels for the occasion.

big mistake.

after hearing your complaints for a few blocks, hamzah pulled you by your conjoined hands to halt your movements, and in one big sweep, picked you up and carried you bridal style. your heart practically hammered out of your chest at the ease with which he scooped you up with. this was probably one of the first moments he had ever done that.

his favorite is grabbing you by the hips to haul you up onto the counter. not even necessarily for any nefarious reason, he just sets you there so you can watch him cook or reach for something on a high shelf.

that’s another thing. he never reaches for things that you’re not tall enough to grab yourself. most of the time he will literally just pick you up and place you on the counter or on his shoulder and help you reach stuff that way. idk why, he just prefers it.

if you’re about to walk into something, or trip, he’ll wrap his arms around your waist and lift you away from the danger before you hurt yourself. usually it’s met by a surprise yelp, which hamzah secretly loves.

⤷ “hamzah!”

“what? you were about to whack your head on that lampost.”

“you could’ve just told me.”

“nah. that’s boring.”

onto the juicy stuff. he does sometimes use his strength in the bedroom - but never to harm you or anything, he would never do that. he more-so just likes that it makes things easier sometimes.

like he can easily flip you onto your stomach or back if you need a change in position, or if you start to cramp up. it honestly just turns you on more; how easy it is for him to maneuver you.

or when he has you on your back, and he’s holding your legs open, he’ll sling one over his shoulder as he plows into you, holding you in place in case your muscles get tired. sometimes you feel like you don’t even need to do anything, it’s like his hands have a mind of their own.

though his personal favorite is when he gets to push your hips down and press your legs to your chest as he eats you out, your whines and squirms no match for his fingers that splay out over your warm skin as he spreads you apart.

- - -

©𝐲𝐱𝐭𝐮𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬

[mischievousmoony]

hi i saw your request were open, and i really love you’re work and i was wondering if you could do something with james where the reader talks very quickly and quietly and often is told that she needs to speak up. and james always knows what she says and its kinda just fluffy? no worries if you don’t want to write!! have an amazing night/day

- 🪷

is this my first emoji anon? 🤭 thank u love, i had a lot of fun with this request

𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚞𝚙

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.9k ⟢ warnings/tags: not bully per say but other students are rude, fluff

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Miss. Y/L/N, have you found a group to work with?" Professor McGonagall asks as students around you huddle in groups of four whilst you stand alone at your desk, packing your things.

You mumble a response as you stuff your books into your bag, attempting to flee the scene as fast as possible. It wasn't anything to do with Professor McGonagall, but rather the fact that you always felt a little scrutinized when talking to anyone in a position of authority.

McGonagall squints as she tries to decipher your words. She finds herself having to make a guess.

"If not, I am more than happy to assist in finding–"

"She's with us, Professor!" James jogs over, returning from enlisting members for your group. As you straighten out your leafs of parchment, James starts packing away your ink and quill for you.

"And 'us' entails?" Professor McGonagall questions.

With a casual flick of his thumb over his shoulder, James gestures to a pair of Ravenclaws standing by the door.

"Very well," McGonagall hums in approval before walking off to ensure any other stragglers have found a group before they depart.

James would prefer to have Sirius and Remus as the other half of your group, but McGonagall has permanently banned James and Sirius from working together ever since they turned a simple demonstration into their own personal stand up comedy gig, resulting in some arguably intentional mishaps in their spellwork.

You've just latched your bag closed when James takes it from you and slings it over his shoulder without giving it much thought. He’s always absentmindedly doing you little favors, like it's his second nature.

"So, Cody has nothing better to do on a Friday night, why am I not surprised?" James says teasingly. "He’s insisting we hit the library and get a head start on the project. You free right now?"

"I'm free," you confirm, looking over James' shoulder at your group mates.

You hate group projects for a multitude of reasons. At least with most Ravenclaws— especially the two you're partnered with, Cody and Isla— you don't have to worry about them not carrying their weight.

This makes your main concern having to work with people you don't know that well. All you did know about them is that they're the kind of Ravenclaws that other Ravenclaws say give them a bad rap. They have a raging superiority complex, and you’d be surprised that James is okay to work with them if you didn't know him. That boy thinks he can make a friend out of anyone, save for some rivals he has in Slytherin.

So, you’re mostly surprised that they want to work with the two of you, but that probably has something to do with James being at the top of the class. Otherwise, they wouldn't normally branch out to students outside of their house.

You suddenly feel uneasy, realizing that for this project, you’ll be the student that the others are weary of not pulling their weight. You feel your hands get clammy over the potential judgement running through Cody and Isla's heads as James leads you over to them.

"Are we going or what?" Cody asks rather unmannerly.

James opens the door for everyone, "Lead the way."

You filter out into the hallway. Soon, the four of you fall in step with each other as James throws an arm around your shoulders.

"How long are we planning to spend on this today?" Isla asks.

"Well, if we dedicate the afternoon to it, we could get all of the research out of the way in one go." Cody responds.

James meets your eye with a sideways glance, and an entire conversation is shared through a couple facial expressions.

His lips curl into a knowing half-smile, See? No plans.

Your eyes twitch with amusement before they shift toward the pair. A microscopic scrunch of your nose conveys, I don't want to spend the whole day with these people.

His face contorts, Me neither, and he shakes his head, we can't anyway.

Your head tilts curiously.

"We have plans later," James verbalizes.

"We do?"

“Sirius got his record player repaired.” James smirks, “And I may have some butterbeer and a certain record waiting for us back at my dorm.”

Your eyes widen with excitement, “James, you didn’t!”

“Oh, but I did.” James says proudly.

“Sorry,” Cody interrupts, “you can’t work on the project tonight because you have to go listen to music?” Cody asks, and the rhetoric nature and judgmental tone are lost on you.

You dive into an explanation on how it’s not just any music, but your favorite band’s brand album. And not just that, but the limited edition record complete with bonus tracks not available anywhere else.

The record was wildly out of your budget and although record stores far and wide all received copies, they didn’t receive very many. You had accepted that you would likely never get your hands on a copy, but you hadn’t accounted for James’ readiness to move mountains at your whim.

You excitedly speak about your favorite band and everything you know about the new record, and it’s like you can’t get the words out fast enough. James listens intently, grinning widely and nodding along with your every word, interjecting occasionally with commentary of his own. You're too busy raving to notice the shared look between Cody and Isla.

"Is this supposed to be a private conversation or are we expected to understand you?" Isla sneers as the four of you reach the library doors.

James' grin falters as watches your excitement fade. You mumble out an apology, which James found completely unnecessary.

His tone flattens out from amused to deadpanned as he addresses Cody's earlier question, both to alleviate some attention from you and to deliberately ignore Isla, "We'll stay for an hour, maybe two. But after that, yeah, we're going to go listen to music with our friends."

Ever the gentleman, even when annoyed, he holds the library's door open for everyone. He eyes the back of Isla's head with offense as she passes, but his eyes soften when you walk through next.

The four of you quickly find a table, as not many are occupied to begin with.

James musters up a semblance of professionalism as he forces himself to stop glaring at Isla as she and Cody begin to discuss a plan for the project. Cody takes it upon himself to divide up areas of research without consulting the rest of the table.

"Hold on," James' brows furrow at his audacity, "What if I don't want to be in charge of researching the wand mechanics? And Y/N has an exceptional understanding of magical theory, she should be in charge of the magical formulas."

Cody and Isla's eyes fall on you and this time you don't miss their criticism.

"You have an exceptional understanding of magical theory?" Isla's face contorts into that familiar sneer.

James doesn't try to hide the way he rolls his eyes. He nudges you, "What was it you were saying earlier? The idea you had for the project?"

You gulp before you dive into an explanation. It feels like Cody and Isla were burning holes through you with their stares, so you try to distract yourself by gazing down at your hands as you them wring together.

In the middle of your explanation—

"Couldn't you at least look up so that I might have a chance at reading your lips?" Cody grumbles.

If looks could kill, James Potter would be a wanted man.

"S- sorry," you practically squeak. You do look up, but the glare on Cody's face intimidates you into mumbling even more. Even the most skilled lip reader wouldn't have a clue as to what you are saying.

"Merlin, could you just speak up?" Cody snaps his fingers in your face and your words die in your throat.

James suddenly wishes he had a beater's bat handy.

"Oi! Get your hand outta her face!" He raises his voice to levels that would surely attract Madam Pince's shushing any minute.

Cody retracts his hand but stands by his actions, "We'll hardly get anything done today if she can't even speak clearly. How do you expect me to deal with this?"

"Alright then, new plan," James says through gritted teeth. He stands abruptly, and his chair scrapes loudly across the floor as it shoved back by his sudden ascent. "The two of us will research the wand mechanics and magical formulas on our own, you two can have the rest. I'll let you know where we'll go from there next class."

James' hand finds yours in a grip that is surprisingly gentle considering the way he is currently conducting himself. He tugs on your hand, prompting you to rise from your own seat.

"You're just going to leave?" Isla asks.

At the same time, Cody protests the plan, "There's no way that I'm accepting that."

"Well, Cody, if you wanted to be in charge, then I guess you shouldn't have been such a cun–"

"James!" This time you're loud enough to speak over James' biting words.

"See you in class" are James' parting words to the very stunned Cody as he pulls you away from the scene.

Once in the hall, James can't help himself from raging over Cody's behavior.

"What a slimy git! Who does he think he is?"

You squeeze the hand that James still has wrapped around yours as he tugs you through the halls.

"James," you call gently.

"Don't know why I said yes to working with them. They basically cornered me, I'll have you know! I should've ran the other way when I saw them–"

"James," you try again, more firmly.

"Maybe if we talk to Minnie on Monday we can get our group switched. You don't suppose we can work with Sirius and Remus considering these extenuating circumstances?"

You dig your feet into the floor, "James!" you call out one last time, finally earning his attention.

James spins to face you, his hold on your hand not letting up.

"Yeah?"

"Calm down, would you?" You're voice comes out tinged with laughter.

James' troubles melt away at the sound of your laughter. His eyes search your face for any sign that it's false.

"You're not upset?" he asks, knowing you've been sensitive in the past to people's commentary on the way you talk.

"No, the look on Cody's face when we stormed away was healing enough."

This earned a laugh from James, "It was pretty satisfying."

James gives your hand another tug so that you fall into step with each other again. He only drops his hold on you to sling his arm over your shoulders.

"Dunno why people become such dunces around you." A playful smirk dances on James' lips, "Distracted by that pretty face, maybe, whereas I know how to multitask."

You shake your head at his antics, but your lips can't be stopped from curling into a grin.

"I can't deny the fact that you're the only one who seems to always hear me."

In the past, you've considered the possibility that James can always tell what you're saying because you feel more comfortable around him than anyone else, prompting you to speak more clearly. In actuality, James doesn't even need your words to know what you're thinking. He's known you for a long time, and he's spent every minute of it learning everything there is to know about you. By now, he might know you better than he knows himself.

"I guess I just might be the luckiest guy around, then, that I don't have to miss a second of your charm."

You sigh at his teasing and knock your shoulder into his, completely missing the genuine adoration in his eyes as he studies the way you smile at his words.

He can't wait to see how your smile looks when you find out that record he got you is signed.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[hannieehaee]

HOT TO GO! (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.

content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 461 (teaser); 7.1k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: september 12th

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: this is mostly word vomit but i enjoyed writing jk's character for this one<3

masterlist

"Oh, wow, uh, hey."

"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.

He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."

"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."

"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.

You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."

"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"

"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.

"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."

"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.

Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."

"What does that even mean?"

"I can be very convincing."

Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?

"Are you-"

"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.

"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.

"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."

It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).

Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.

Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).

...

you can check it out today on my patreon by subscribing!

reply if you'd like to be tagged!

[eyelessfaces]

apology

miguel o'hara x reader

summary: miguel hasn’t come home in weeks. he tries to make it up to you.

warnings: smut, porn with minimal plot, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, a bit of angst, we're a bit mean to miguel because we're mad at him

tags: f!reader, sub!miguel (hell yeah), we make miguel suffer (sorry bb)

word count: 1k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

Miguel hadn’t come home in weeks, and it was with a guilty pinched smile and a bouquet of flowers that he reappeared at your doorstep. 

When you first saw him, you wanted to take the flowers from his hands and slam the door right in front of his face, but you knew that he certainly had a good reason and excuse to have done what he had done. 

He didn’t tell you much about it; you figured it was more about his spiderman activities than about his work, because he rarely told you about the spider stuff, wanting to keep you as far away from it as possible. You were sometimes mad that he wouldn’t tell you anything about it, but he kept on insisting that it was for your own good, that you shouldn’t get too close to it. He had already paid the price.

He apologized, apologized and apologized about not coming back for so long. You told him that it was fine, but he knew it wasn’t, he knew that you were hurt, he saw how you wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

He didn’t need this; he didn’t need you to hate him, it might be even worse and scarier than every universe collapsing.

He owed you an apology, a real one. He didn’t know if what he had in mind could work, but he could try.

Which was why he found himself with your thighs caging his face, your hand tightly gripping his hair. He sometimes got carried away, kissing and biting at your thighs while he repeated that he was sorry, over and over again, before you tugged his hair into diving back into eating you out like it was the last time he did it.

If you repressed your moans to let him know that you were still mad, he was doing all the contrary. He deeply enjoyed this, and he wanted you to know it. If he could spend the whole night between your thighs he would, and even though his crotch ached for some friction, all that mattered to him at that moment was you and your pleasure.

He mouthed at your pussy as if he was making out with it; licking long, slow and languid stripes through your folds, gathering your slick over his tongue as if it was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. 

He pulled away to kiss the inside of your thighs, and just as you were about to scold him for it, he left a kiss at your clit before gently curling the tip of his tongue around it, making a strangled moan leave your mouth. 

He smugly smiled at your reaction but quickly got back to work; he actually thought of something better, and pulled away, making you groan at the loss.

He laid down on the bed and pulled you on top of him so you could straddle his chest, and you huffed out a laugh when he started to beg you to sit on his face, pulling your hips higher up his body so you could use him as you wished.

“Use me baby, I deserve to be used”

And it was a good idea, you had to admit. You could control it all now, grinding onto his face as if he was just an object. His nails were digging into the meat of your thighs, marking crescents into your skin as he hummed against you, his broad hands then shifting to your ass so he could knead the tender flesh, pushing you even lower onto his face. You even wondered how he could breathe, but your concern quickly flew out the window when his nose rubbed against your clit. 

Your hand had unconsciously fisted onto his hair to hold him in place as you rocked yourself harder against his tongue, fucking it until you lost your mind; you pulled away and straddled his chest just as you were about to come, leaving him confused and wondering as he caught his breath, the lower half of his face drenched in your juices. 

He licked his lips clean, looking up at you with half lidded eyes, so fucking pussy drunk. He sounded so gone when he asked you why you pulled away, but he looked even more gone as you got rid of his pants and explained that you wanted to come on his cock but that he wouldn’t get to come.

He let out a small whimper when you lowered yourself onto him, his hands finding and gripping your hips in a bruising hold. 

You bounced on him at an unforgiving pace; his head was thrown back into the pillows as he let out small moans, trying to contain himself.

You leaned onto him and kissed his neck, softly biting at the warm skin before repositioning and putting your hands over his chest, his muscles softly twitching under your touch, your soft moans driving him even crazier.

You were close, you knew it, and so did he. He watched down to where you were connected and bit on his bottom lip as he guided your hips up and down, your rocking more languid as you tried to reach your peak. You felt him twitch inside of you and reminded him not to come, and he responded with a small wail as he nodded, still biting hard on his bottom lip, the poor skin almost bleeding.

You came with a silent cry, his hips snapping up into you and burying himself even deeper as he worked you through your orgasm, focusing on every muscle of his body to try not to come as you rode out your high on his lap, his own about to tip over the edge. 

He whined as you climbed off of him, his orgasm stolen away from him, just as you had promised. 

You watched with awe and a sly smirk as his body stiffened, his cock twitching desperately in front of you, his hands pawing at the bedsheets in frustration. 

You smirked proudly, putting a hand at his cheek before kissing his lips then his forehead, his eyes shutting tight.

"Look at you baby" you cooed, looking down at your hand softly stroking his thigh to tease him even more, so damn close to where he needed you. “Maybe I'm a bit less mad at you.”

—

please give me feedback if you liked this, I appreciate every single comment and they motivate me to keep going!!

masterlist | taglist | ao3

spiderman 2099 taglist: @bubuslutty @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @midnight-the-shadow-wolf @cocodiem @pedropascalsidechick @spxctorsslxt @roxannarichie @vicolangelo @amb3rrz @inluvvwithme @friedwings @chaotic-neon-sign @foxglove-grove @ilovemiguelohara @pandq707 @gobblegluckgluckgod @weasleybuns @midgardian-witch @daemontqrg

[what-the-floofin]

So how do baby taurs work for the equitaurs and cervitaurs in your stuff?

Oh that's a good one actually - lots to talk about! Too much for one post, but gotta start somewhere. Enjoy some messy micro scribbles peppered throughout. They were originally very very tiny so, pardon blurriness.

I've got my Taurs running overall pretty similar to equine cycles and gestations - meaning they are what you call 'long-day triggered' by the spring and summer seasons.

(Though they do cycle throughout the year, just at slower rates and less consistently over cooler seasons)

This goes for the cervitaurs too - rather than using the shorter gestation of their deer alikes - as they and their foals are a bit bigger and more complex to deal with. Which also goes to suggest that twins/multiples are not a frequent occurrence for cervitaurs in comparison to actual deer, and inherently poses as much danger as it does for equines instead. Possible, but high risk and incredibly demanding.

So, you're looking at an 11 month gestation on average, and typically starting in a mid-spring to late-summer window. Which places most taurs at being born early-spring to mid-summer. It's most uncommon to be winter born, but not weird tbh.

Foals are super awkward, there's no getting around that, and in the first year they have a ridiculous growth rate when compared to other sentient creatures of similar lifespans.

These things are weeds - the difference from one day old to three months old is phenomenal alone. They are, however, cooked a little further along than what you'd be comparing to for a newborn human. They're able to support themselves enough to avoid outright injury (think like a 3-4 month old baby), but gaining actual control of all those limbs takes a bit more time. The equine half however would be a touch undercooked for a horse. Just physically, in size. No worries about comparative internal developments, that's all good and ready to go.

So they're typically gonna spend shy of their first month feeding and sleeping, practicing rolling up, sitting and limb coordination to build strength for self-standing. If mama has places to be, that baby is getting carried.

I also absolutely subscribe to the idea of arms being naturally held close to torso prior to having balance and coordination. It would support them a lot! Then it becomes a self-soothing gesture seen in the anxious, and an instinctive positional response when badly startled. Tuck in!

By three months you can expect them to be racing on their little stilt legs - albeit still with the occasional wobble and spill. And wowee did that happen fast when you think about it.

While the zoomies are a lot, they're balanced out by the fact that so much oncoming growth means foals crash nap very frequently. These buggers sleep a lot. It's go hard and sleep hard on endless rotation. Play, snack, nap, rinse and repeat.

This accelerated growth races away throughout their first year, and then drops right back into something a bit more reasonable - at least when you're considering it from the human perspective!

Yet in comparison to how they first started out, it's practically snail paced.

I'm meaning, you look at the size of a 3 month old horse foal, and that's the closest comparison to a 2 year old taur foal in body. Every 'horse foal month' thereafter starts guiding the next 'taur foal year' visual until you hit that yearling horse look for a taur when they're 10-11 years old. Then by that point, they've reached most of their full leg length, and the next 10 years is focused on finishing the bulking out of their frame.

(click to enlarge I hope) - Featuring my lass Thalo here haha

By rule of thumb I just have both equid and humanoid aspects grow in relative balance to each other, lanky stages and all. From the human perspective, the humanoid half grows crazy fast at first and then becomes comparatively similar. From the horse perspective, the equine half is crazy slow and always is. It would also give credit to having a higher physical durability than their animal counterparts. More time was spent growing!

It's worth noting that a lot of perceived 'weirdness' only comes from trying to compare them purely 1 to 1 with either horse, deer or human kids. Taurs are their own thing though! And nature's most consistent attitude is to Find What Works and Do it. No matter how wack, if it works it's used.

So, a rapid starting growth tapered into a much slower rate once they're stabilised and running was just the path that worked best for this Taur survival. Keep it simple!

There's always more to cover, but this is chunky enough for now. Whew!