#i want to feel like every part of you moves with me and vice versa | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

g1rld1ary · 2 months ago

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our names in the paper - footballer!james potter x fem!sports journalist!reader

wc: 11,151

cw: swearing, fade to black but suggestive moments?, smoking, slut-shaming, kissing

info: r and james are about 24, set in 2007ish solely for the romcom vibes. james is the equivalent of like David Beckham in his prime, all pics are for vibes only, not reflective of r's appearance etc

me: i've been working on this for soooo long i am so happy it's finally done!! if u couldn't tell it's very inspired by early 2000s romcoms and i am honestly so proud of it so praying it doesn't flop LOL

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"James, James! Over here! What's the defence strategy this season?"

If you had to hear James' name one more time you might scream. Unfortunately, you were locked in a room with nothing but that. Worse, you were part of the problem.

"Mister Potter, what do you think about your striker's goal-to-game ratio falling rapidly this season?" You called, begrudgingly hoping for a moment of the soccer star's attention. Fortunately (or unfortunately), his glittering eyes settled on you, singling you out from the room of hungry journalists.

"I think that you miss one hundred per cent of the shots you don't take," He said, smirk turning to something challenging, "And as long as my team is training and working together, I'm not gonna cry over a bit of spilt milk or missed goals. And, as far as I'm concerned we're still winning games, aren't we?" You rolled your eyes, scribbling down his answer nonetheless.

You continued the catfight of trying to get answers for your newest article, keeping the balance of vying for James' attention and showing him you didn't care for him personally, unlike the other journalists you were pushing against. The conference room was full of men and women who wanted to be James or be with him. Aside from the professional questions, there were certainly several invitations to the pub thrown around, and you were sure you saw one woman try and give him her cellphone number. You rolled your eyes again at that, James was nothing to fawn over.

He might be a big shot now, but you'd known him almost all your life. The two of you had gone to school together and had bickered through every interaction since then. James had always wanted to be a football star, and you a journalist. You'd never believed in him and vice versa, both of you taking every opportunity to tease the other or cut each other down. Maybe it was just clashing personalities, two people too ambitious to be friends. The rivalry had lasted past school, and unfortunately, the two of you often crossed paths in your respective careers.

The press conference wrapped up soon after your question, and you ended up lingering in the room trying to finish your notes. James was still over at his podium next to his coach, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and arduously texting on his flip phone. Seeing you hovering by the door he called your last name, sauntering up behind you. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for the encounter.

"Potter." You smiled curtly, moving to leave.

"You don't have to call me 'Mr Potter' during the conferences, you know. James is perfectly fine, everyone else calls me that."

"Just trying to stay professional," You said through gritted teeth, aware his coach and a few others were still around you. It could cost you your job to snap at him.

"Was it professional when I was your first kiss?" He stepped closer and you instinctively stepped back, feeling the plaster wall graze your back through your work blazer.

"It was spin the bottle and we were twelve, it's ancient history. And do you mind? I know you're some kind of god around here but I have a reputation to uphold," You whispered, glancing around anxiously. James laughed at your distress which only annoyed you further. Maybe he could get away with anything, but you had to fight for your place in your field as a female sports journalist, you couldn't afford to take it lightly.

You couldn't help the physical reaction to being trapped between James and the wall though, your breathing shallow and quick, face tilted up slightly to look at him. You felt a bit like prey, caught in the predator's territory and resigned to imminent death.

"Let her go, will you? She's just doing her job," Remus Lupin said, entering the conference room with his nose crinkled from the smell. You couldn't blame him, sweaty players and hungry journalists didn't make any kind of utopia together.

"I wasn't doing anything!" James cried, hands up in surrender, "Come on love, I was just giving you the scoop, right?"

"First of all, if you were giving me 'the scoop' right now I'd certainly be accused of sleeping to the top by all the blokes waiting out there," You gestured to the group of other reporters still lingering in the hall waiting for any scraps of information, "And secondly, I work for the bloody Sunday People, not the BBC. I honestly think they'd rather I just write about your 'dashing good looks' or a drug scandal than your games," You complained, falling back into the ease of conversation now that Remus was there. He'd been at school with the both of you, growing up to be a physiotherapist, but was always much more palatable than James.

Both men laughed at your plight.

"If you ever need a more detailed look at my dashing good looks just ask, sweetheart. I'd be glad to show you, you know, for your articles." You rolled your eyes at James' attempt to be charming, snapping your notebook shut.

"Alright, I think that's my cue to go," You said curtly, smoothing out your work trousers. "Remus, I'll return Dracula next time I see you; I'm almost finished." You remembered you'd had his novel for quite a while, sparing him a smile on the way out.

"You lend her books?" James asked incredulously, hazel eyes curiously following your figure down the hall. Remus just shrugged, patting James on the shoulder and attending to his actual job, checking up on the players after the match.

James was still hung up on the fact when he returned to the apartment he shared with Remus and Sirius, flabbergasted as he hung his coat on the rack.

"Since when are you two close enough to be sharing books?" He cried as he paced through the kitchen, "Have we not all been in agreement that she is stubborn and hard-headed and annoying and has been since school?"

"No," Remus shook his head, "You decided that, and I daresay she feels the same about you. I've always rather liked her."

James was unexpectedly dumbfounded at the realisation that you weren’t the common enemy he thought you were. Even Sirius didn’t seem to dislike you, always stopping for a chat when you were around the stadium and giving you extra comments with a flirty wink.

James didn’t need to think about you for another few weeks; his team hadn’t played one week and you’d been assigned other matches for the others — he read your very amusing pieces on lawn bowls and chess-boxing, partly because he knew you’d hate the assignment.

You were blissfully apart until one Saturday night. You were out with your friends and a few coworkers and James was out with his. He’d started in the local pub while you were at a fancy cocktail restaurant for Lily’s bachelorette party, however, your groups crossed paths in the depths of a nightclub.

Maybe you were getting too old for them, waking up with sore backs and knees after nights of dancing, but it didn’t mean you wouldn’t give it a red hot go. And with a few cocktails in your system, nobody could convince you it wasn’t a good idea.

You'd been shaking what your mother gave you for the better part of an hour before it was your turn to get another round, telling the girls you'd be back before stumbling through a sea of sweaty bodies.

Some gross man who was definitely too old for you obstructed your path, grabbing your arms to make you dance with him. Your face crinkled in disgust of its own accord, trying to wiggle yourself free. He continued to encroach on your space, forcing you around despite your persistence. Finally, a man's hands landed on his shoulders, yanking him away and subsequently freeing you from his grasp. The momentum sent you tumbling in your strappy heels, right into something warm and solid. You cringed, having been there before. You turned slowly to meet your unwitting saviour, huffing when you realised it was James.

"Oh, fuck off," You grumbled, mostly to yourself, producing a quick apology to not seem totally impolite.

"Alright?" Sirius asked, revealing himself as the one who'd gotten you away from the creep. You shrugged, fixing your hair.

"Been better," You told him, preparing to leave before seemingly their whole team had surrounded you, all greeting you loudly. You weakly waved at them, feeling dreadfully underdressed and professional. You were used to seeing them in the stadium and press conferences where you were much more modestly dressed. The strapless mini dress wasn't giving you the same layer of protection.

"Right," You said when there didn't seem to be any more productive conversation happening, "I'm off to the bar then."

"Let me buy you a drink, to make up for the freak," One of the players, Frank, said. You smiled but shook your head.

"I'm buying for several, it wouldn't be fair. It's Lily's bachelorette." You directed the last sentence to those who knew her, the football and journalism professions having considerable overlap due to events and the never-ending scandals and interviews. James covered his face in mock-devastation.

"Not Lily! Have I missed my chance forever?" He moaned, earning some shoves from the rest of the group. You and Lily had been friends since uni, and you'd introduced her to the boys at one of the terrible house parties you'd endured over your three years studying. James had developed a thing for her right away (no one knew how much of it was serious and how much was for comedic value) and had been loudly pining for her ever since, despite her long-term relationship with Dirk Cresswell, an economist who worked in the building down the block from your office.

"I think you missed your chance the first time," You retorted with a snort, a little drunk to have any ferocity in your tone. You both made a face at each other, ignoring the laughter of those around you. You dismissed the group and danced away, shaking your arse over to the bar.

A few rounds later and you were not in your best shape. The girls had been absolute menaces, feeding you shots and deceiving colourful cocktails that actually held like seven standards in them, and you were certainly feeling the effects. You excused yourself from the group to find a loo, bile rising in your throat as you pushed past dancers, not even sparing a comment for James as you saw him.

That confused both James and his friends, becoming used to your insistent teasing over the years. He exchanged a look with Sirius, following you through the crowd and to the bathrooms.

He figured something was wrong when you burst into the gender-neutral bathrooms, not bothering to lock the door behind you. James and Sirius silently fought about who was going to follow you in and check on you; James found you insufferable, Sirius had severe emetophobia and would probably throw up himself if he had to be close to you vomiting. James rolled his eyes, it was his responsibility. Sirius clapped him on the back gratefully, leaving him to return to the others. James sighed, reciting some affirmations before he cracked the door open, calling out to you.

When you responded with a disgusting wretch, James slipped inside, gagging a little as he saw you leant over the toilet bowl, bare knees on the grimy tile floor.

"Alright?" He asked for lack of anything better, unsurprised when you replied with another gag.

"I feel ill," You said pathetically, head hung low in the bowl which James knew you would resent tomorrow. He laughed quietly, getting closer to you.

"No shit, idiot," His tone was light as he began to rub your back softly, making sure your hair was away from your mouth. You vomited a few more times, your body reacting in violent hurls as James tried to be both soothing and as far away as possible.

When your stomach was finally empty you slumped against the toilet, cheek pressed against the cool porcelain.

"Woah," James pulled you up to a sitting position, "That cannot be good for your skin. Let's get you home, okay?" You nodded petulantly, letting yourself be led out through the club, James telling Lily he'd make sure you got home (and congratulated her on the upcoming wedding).

"Can we get some gum or something? My throat tastes like vom." James looked down at you from where you were lodged into his side, legs shaky as you wobbled down the street. He sighed and steered you in the direction of a convenience store, picking out strawberry gum for you since it tasted better than mint, your words. Good you thought when he paid for it, the football star can shell out 2 pounds, makes more than you anyhow.

You chewed happily, stumbling down the pavement as James held onto you, keeping you upright.

"You're so muscly," You said, somewhat in a drunken haze.

"Thank you?" James laughed, patting you softly on the forearm he was holding. To be fair, you weren't quite sure if it was a compliment either. Your words were admittedly oddly nice but your tone made it confusing, drunk thoughts not completely translating to sober dynamics.

You meandered for a few oddly peaceful minutes, neither of you starting an argument or picking a fight. It was a nice break from normal, the two of you even sharing some peaceful small talk -- discussing a movie you'd both seen recently.

Of course, nothing good lasts.

"James!" A voice yelled from the other side of the street, a short man with mousy mannerisms. James groaned beside you.

"Peter Pettigrew," He whispered to you, trying to pull you along faster, "We used to be mates but turns out he was just using me to get team secrets out into the papers." You whipped your head around to look at him. Oh! You knew Pettigrew, unsurprising given you both reported on essentially the same topics, but he had a bad name even in your circles. He was closer to a paparazzi than a journalist, going for the cheap stories and ad hominem approaches rather than searching for any meaningful insights. Simply put, in an already sleazy career, Peter Pettigrew was the bottom of the barrel.

"Later, mate. I'm in the middle of something right now." James put his arm around your shoulder, better shielding you as he tried to make a getaway. The telltale flash of a camera reflected off the grey pavement, making both you and James whip your heads around to face Peter, looking hardly ashamed of himself. After a moment of shock, you both covered your faces, stumbling down the street as fast as you could manage. The damage was already done.

Suddenly you didn't feel as drunk, navigating the cobblestone streets with unanticipated nimbleness. James might've had the athlete's advantage but you were on home turf, leading him through local shortcuts and to the front door of your apartment building.

On the journey over you'd attracted a few more photographers all fiending for a scandalous picture of James, a small mob forming as you tried to punch in the door code despite your shaking hands. James was right behind you, front pressed to your back, holding his Adidas windbreaker out in a position to shield your face from the prying eyes.

You slammed the door shut, the nosy questions and camera clicks immediately muffled. James let out a long sigh, running a hand through his already tousled hair. Neither of you spoke for a while, processing what had happened.

"Make yourself at home then." You cringed as you surveyed the state of your flat; clothes flung over chairs and dishes still in the sink. Your only option for living alone was cramming all your stuff into what was essentially a shoebox, so any amount of mess made the place look chaotic.

"Nice place," James said and you immediately rolled your eyes, snatching up a stray bra strewn across an armchair. "No, I mean it! It's cozy. Very you." He gestured up at the colourful, mismatched glassware in a kitchen cabinet and the beaded curtain separating your bedroom. You blushed slightly; you didn't often take men home, your flat staying a girly paradise just for you.

You put on the kettle, comforted by the familiar sounds of water beginning to boil. James sat awkwardly on an armchair near the window, anxiously peeking out from behind the curtain every few minutes. His reactions told you the paparazzi were still loitering outside.

James took his tea gratefully, surprisingly still agreeable despite all the terrible things that had happened in the course of a few hours.

"Do you have a back exit or something? Somewhere I can slip out and get home?" You shook your head with a grimace.

"Only the fire exit, but that still goes out near the front. Otherwise we're surrounded by other buildings."

"You must be exhausted after everything. Head off to bed, I'll wait until the gits outside fuck off then lock the door behind me. We don't have to ever mention this again if you don't want." The orange lamp light made James' eyes look unfairly soft, highlighting the golden flecks amongst the brown. You steeled your nerve and shook your head.

"I'm not that bad of a host," You tried to joke, "Besides, don't you have training tomorrow? You're already up later than I'm sure you intended to be. I couldn't live with myself if I ruined England's star player by making him stay up all night, you take my bed and go to sleep." You were both very carefully trying to keep things light, not wanting to spend any more of the night miserable and fighting.

"Well, I'm not taking your bed, that's just impolite. I'll take the couch, if you're being so generous as to let me stay." He had a cheeky smile on his lips as he said it, both of you dancing around the fact that in any other circumstance James wouldn't have been allowed within fifteen feet of your flat.

"That couch? No way." You pointed at the teensy vintage sofa sitting in front of the boxy television. It had space for maybe two and a half arses to sit on it, maybe horizontally extended legs if you were short-ish, but there was no way the goliath James Potter was getting any decent sleep on it. "You take the bed. I'll survive the couch tonight."

"Don't be stupid, I can't sleep in your bed. If not the couch I'll take the floor."

"Speaking from a purely medical standpoint, I haven't cleaned these floors recently enough for it to be safe to have your face in such close proximity. Take the bed, Potter."

You bickered for a few long minutes, both of you trying to outdo each other's respect as host and guest, respectively. You didn't miss the irony that even when you and James were getting along you were fighting.

"I'm not letting you go without, that's final." You turned away to go fetch a pillow for your night on the couch when James said something you never ever thought you'd hear from him.

"Then sleep with me."

"Excuse me?" You all but shrieked, immediately cringing as you thought about your poor neighbours.

"Look, it's basically morning, we're both shattered and I'm sure your bed is much comfier than whatever alternative you're planning. We can even go full pillow-wall if it'll make you feel better." You stared at him for several moments, lips actually agape. Never in your life did you think James Potter would be asking you to share a bed with him, and never in your life did you think you'd be considering it.

"Fine."

Twenty minutes later and you were both ready for bed. You'd found James an old pair of an ex-boyfriend's long abandoned pyjamas, stuffed in a bottom drawer. They were slightly too small to accommodate all his muscles, the t-shirt sitting a few inches above the pants' waistband, giving him a very '90s crop top and exposing his happy trail.

You were almost definitely more embarrassed than James. You were in a similarly aged pair of pyjamas, a cartoon of Spongebob over your chest. You couldn't tell if you'd prefer to be in the lame pair that you were wearing or a cute pair -- no, it would probably look like you were trying too hard. Which you weren't. You didn't care about looking cute in front of James Potter, why would you?

He was already in bed when you'd returned from your skincare routine, face fresh and moisturised, and though you knew he was going to be there, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of James Potter in your bed. Tucked up to the chin under your frilly floral grandma sheets, he looked the picture of cozy.

"Don't bloody touch me, I mean it. I want to feel alone in my own bed," You snapped, sliding under the covers, pulling the doona similarly high up to your chin. You turned over to the centre of the bed to find James already on his side looking at you. You let it be for a moment, surprisingly enjoying the sleepover vibes you'd created.

"Okay this is weird now, the pillow's going up." You slammed a long decorative cushion in between the both of you, secretly smiling at the sleepy giggle James let out.

The first time you awoke it was hazy, still early in the morning with golden sunbeams streaming through your curtains. Warmth enveloped you, keeping you cozy despite the winter morning outside. You shifted to burrow deeper into your blankets when a groan came from behind you, startling you more awake as you recognised the feeling of muscular arms wrapped around your middle. It suddenly all came back to you, James walking you home, the paparazzi, you making an absolute fool of yourself. However, James was a portable heat source and extremely comfortable so you let yourself ignore everything that had led up to it, allowing yourself another few hours of blissful sleep.

The second time you woke up James was gone. That wasn't surprising given he definitely had early morning training, but you would reluctantly admit that it was a little lonelier in your bed than it usually was.

You didn't leave the house for the rest of the day, finally cleaning your apartment after much too long. Turns out all you needed was to be embarrassed in front of a guest to get you motivated.

Monday morning you weren't hungover anymore, but you were mourning the weekend that had passed much too quickly. Still, things were running smoothly enough; you didn't miss the tube and had snagged a seat, and your makeup was looking absolutely grand. You were absolutely thriving.

That was, until you crossed the threshold of the Sunday People offices and the jerks from the politics columns started bothering you, as if a Monday morning wasn't punishment enough.

"Meet anyone nice over the weekend, sweetheart?" One crowed from his desk chair, looking positively dickhead-ish in his too-small button-up.

"Or still on the clock maybe? We know you're always hunting for a good story." The combination of both remarks confused you, but you strutted past them with a quick glare in their general direction, your clicking heels producing enough attitude that you didn't need to say anything.

As you approached your own desk area, you had the distinct and uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at you. You couldn't think of why, but subtly wiped the edge of your lips in case it was foolishly smudged lipstick.

You even swore you heard one of the royal writers -- an awful woman maybe twenty years older than you -- say something about your 'promiscuity' and 'unprofessionalism'. You didn't know where it was coming from. You weren't friends by any means but you usually just stayed out of each other's way, you didn't throw around insults at your workplace. You glanced down at your outfit but nothing seemed especially revealing, the same button-up and pencil skirt you always wore if you weren't doing field work.

You were really starting to wonder why everyone was looking at you when even Lily was sending you pitiful glances. You had just made up your mind to say something about it when your boss came striding towards you, anger emanating in a way which only middle-aged men can do.

"What is this?" He slammed a Daily Mail tabloid down on your desk. The office was dead silent. You looked down at it, wholly confused as to what it could be -- your last article was approved without any troubles.

THE 'INSIDE' SCOOP? POTTER GETS COZY WITH REPORTER ON NIGHT OUT

And there, right under the brazen headline, was the stupid picture that Peter Pettigrew took. The two of you out on the street, you tucked into James' side with his arm around you. Your face wasn't totally visible, but anyone who already knew you would recognise the figure and fashion.

You could feel your face drop as you read the article, a barrage of slut-shamey insults and reports of how intimate you and James were out on the streets of London -- all entirely false, of course. When you'd finished reading the piece the whole office was staring at you, waiting to see how you'd react.

"It's a lie," You said quietly, trying to stop your hands from shaking as they rested on your lap. There was a pregnant pause as your boss processed what you were saying, clearly confused. None of your coworkers dared to speak.

"Bullshit," He replied, face blooming red as he decided you weren't being truthful. "That's you and that's James, there's no denying that. The whole bloody country will be able to see you two getting cozy on the street. How do you reckon this reflects on me, having your name and workplace published alongside your completely unprofessional affair?"

"I understand that it looks bad, but it's not what you think at all. J- uh, Potter was just helping me get home after a chance encounter because I wasn't feeling well, then he hid at my place because of all the paparazzi. Nothing happened." It was a weak explanation, even you could tell, even though it was completely true.

The arseholes over in Politics were already sniggering to themselves and you wished you could have ripped them a new one. Instead, you were cowering underneath your brutish boss.

"It's your word against Pettigrew's, and only one of you's been printed. You've been publicly humiliated and we're getting bad press for it."

Your boss had left you with the threatening promise that the issue would be brought up with your superiors and the whispered opinions of every single person you worked with. You choked out an excuse to get out of the office, taking the lift up to the rooftop to cry.

You had peace for a few minutes, getting the most embarrassing of the sobs out alone.

"Did you actually sleep with him?" If it was anyone else you probably would have snapped, yelling at them for being so insensitive. Marlene said it with such earnest curiosity and sympathy that you turned to face her instead. You were met with her and Lily, your very best friends who you were feeling especially lucky to work with at that moment.

"No!" You told them the full story, about getting sick at the club, James just being polite and walking you home, and Peter Pettigrew's terrible betrayal. Both women listened attentively, taking it all in.

"I thought you hated Potter," Lily said finally, "How'd it get that far in the first place? Usually you'd have ditched him in the first five minutes of being in his presence."

"I don't hate him." You studied your hands intently, observing the peeling red nail polish you should have reapplied yesterday. "I think he's annoying and obnoxious and I've always hated that he's never believed I could be a serious writer, but I don't hate him. He has his moments. Besides, why would I waste energy on hating Potter when I could hate Pettigrew with all my heart?"

"What a snake," Marlene spat, lighting a cigarette as she got comfy next to you. You and Lily both nodded. Peter was not only now a backstabber, but he'd been becoming increasingly insufferable over the years you'd all been writing.

He started out quite nice and was in your periphery of friends in the same way Remus and even James were, but as he'd gotten the job at his shitty tabloid magazine he'd become downright intolerable, always twisting what you'd said both in official articles and when gossiping with other friends. You had all had enough a few years ago and stopped inviting him places. Clearly, he'd held onto the grudge.

At his own work, James was facing the same rumours, though not nearly to the same peril. As he rocked up to his home pitch for the morning training session he was received with catcalls and high fives which made him nervous. No one was ever that happy to be working out on a Monday morning.

"Thought you hated her, mate."

"Maybe all she needed was a good shag to get the stick out of her arse."

"Woah! Can we take it back a few steps and not talk about women that way?" James sent a look over to one of his teammates.

"Sorry bud," He held his hands up in surrender, "Thought you wouldn't mind since you're always moaning about her." James' eyebrows knit together as he tried to piece together what the men were talking about, finally giving up and asking for a plain explanation.

He was met with a copy of Peter's article, outlining the flirty touches and 'electric chemistry' the two of you shared. Scanning it quickly James felt his face screwing up in disgust. Never mind that it obviously wasn't true, what a disgusting violation of privacy. He'd only recently launched into the spotlight, working his way up into the Premier League and then team captain in the last few years. He still didn't know how to handle the fame, especially invasive press like this.

His first priority was setting the ruth straight for his team, explaining exactly what happened and outlining strict instructions not to bring it up the next time they saw you.

"This is going to be a lot worse for her than me," He said, ending the conversation there.

He was correct. Rumours only spiralled from Peter's article. You'd stupidly created Google Alerts for your name; as a journalist, it made sense to keep track of where your writing was being shared. One day of this nonsense and you had all alerts silenced, not wanting to ever visit the internet ever again.

Apparently, this alleged affair was the most interesting thing young British people had ever experienced. The football star and the sports journalist. As you packed up to leave at the end of the day you were feeling sick to your stomach, already overwhelmed by the attention you never wanted on you.

Your face blanched as you approached the dizzying glass windows, a mass of reporters swarming the door. You didn't have to think hard to know they were waiting for you. You retreated to the restroom where they couldn't see you to rearrange your exit appearance. Pulling your coat tight against you and scarf up to cover the bottom half of your face, you plugged your iPod nano in to appear busy (and touched up your eye makeup for the inevitable photos that would make it back into the news cycle).

Physically and emotionally prepared you braved the crowd again, moving through with a polite but firm shove, making yourself a path down to the tube. You only snapped at one particularly rude paparazzi, giving him an instruction of where to 'stick it' as you hopped down the stairs to your station.

You ate a haphazard dinner by your computer, obsessively clicking through the various articles (and now personal blog posts) that had mentioned you. Every link made you feel worse about yourself.

The articles themselves were bad, most of them degrading you and congratulating James. Some had even produced old school photos of the both of you, even a few from your uni days when James was just starting out professionally and you were attending similar parties.

The articles were one thing, at least they usually had to be somewhat impartial. The blog posts by James' fangirls were downright cruel, calling you a slag based on a singular photograph and dragging your name through the mud.

You were drawn from your doom-scrolling by your cellphone ringing, Britney ringtone at least drawing a smile from you.

"Hello?"

"Get off the internet," Sirius Black said from the other end of the line.

"How'd you know?" You exited the webpage dutifully, already feeling the weight of the world's ugly words lifting from your shoulders.

"I figured. First time being written about isn't easy."

"It's certainly making me grateful I've never been so bitchy in my articles," You produced a hollow laugh, "I don't know how people can say these things about someone they've never met."

"That's why we like you," He said, "Mostly, at least. You stick to the sport and not our personal lives."

"Don't inflate my ego, Black, it's just because I don't like you guys," You joked, your mood already blooming back to somewhat more chipper.

"That's what I've been telling him!" You heard Remus call from further away, probably the other side of their living room. Sirius made an offended noise.

"Is Potter there?" You changed the topic, swirling your mouse around the window aimlessly, too afraid to check your work or personal notifications.

"He's out right now, calling someone official -- a publicist or lawyer friend. He's tearing his hair out about this, he feels awful for you." Both men explained, bickering about who exactly he was talking to.

"Yeah, I'm noticing only one of us is getting called a slut." You rolled your eyes even though they couldn't see you, balancing your cell between your shoulder and ear as you made a cup of tea. Sirius' barking laughter crackled through the speaker.

"Don't worry about it, love, everyone knows The Daily Mail is full of shite. Besides, I got that all the time."

"Yeah, in school! Not when you have a grown-up job to save face at!" Sirius conceded, apologising lightly. You shrugged him off; he was not the target of your anger at all.

"James'll be back soon, do you want to stay on the phone?" Remus asked and you answered without hesitation.

"No. I don't want to talk to him right now. We'll just find something to fight about, it's not worth it."

"He wants to make things better," Sirius offered, "He feels terrible."

"Maybe when I'm not so angry at the world." You left them with the offered compromise, hanging up to pity yourself for a few more hours before bed.

You didn't end up being fired over the incident, your bosses couldn't find a good reason to cite, but everyone in the office knew you were on thin ice. Most weren't afraid to highlight that fact. You were really starting to hate the Politics guys.

You just tried to keep your head down, diving into your articles and trying to keep in the higher-ups good graces. Amidst the drama though you'd been taken off all football coverage for the time being, banished to the irrelevant 'sports' you never even knew existed.

The week had taken you out of London to cover bizarre rural events like cheese rolling and bog snorkelling; not uninteresting but a big change of pace to the Premier League drama you were used to.

It did take your mind off of James and the media shitstorm for a day or two though. Being in a small town was much preferable to London, at least for the moment. The paparazzi weren't going to make the drive to find you for a single day when there were plenty more interesting figures to find in the city.

Plus, you were meeting the most interesting people. Though it was no Premier League final, everyone around was so wholly invested and excited by the competition that you couldn't help feeling the same, despite your initial hesitation.

Throughout the day it was just you, your notepad, your camera and the few thousand people who came to participate and observe. You'd already met and interviewed the woman who made the cheese, the previous year's winner and you were waiting impatiently to see who'd prevail now.

The paper was paying for you to stay overnight so you could chronicle the post-event celebrations, and you'd never been so glad to be working late. The key players in the day, organisers and competitors had all convened in the town's old pub, basically heaving under the weight of you all.

You held up your beer with the others despite hating the taste, grateful to be included in their toast to the day. You laughed as you tried to down it quickly, wanting the taste out of your mouth as soon as possible without refusing such a kind gift. Holding the pint up in the air victoriously you accepted the cheers of those around you, including the lovely middle-aged lady who made the ceremonial cheese and the man only a year or two older than you who'd won earlier.

"Finally letting your hair down!" He laughed and you smiled back, trying to remember his name. A glance down at your notepad said Drew. "Can I get you another?" You hoped he didn't notice your eyes widen, not expecting attention like that, not when you were allegedly working no less. You opened your mouth to agree when someone else answered for you.

"She doesn't like beer, thinks it tastes like piss." You whipped your neck around at the familiar voice, mouth dropping open at the sight of James Potter.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, jovial politeness abandoned.

"You didn't remember that my family comes to watch every year?"

"Respectfully, why the fuck would I remember something like that?" You snapped, moving to leave and follow the much nicer Drew to the bar. James grabbed your hand lightly, stopping you from leaving.

"Wait, can we talk please?" You just looked at him for a long time, considering how much patience you had after a full day of work, then shrugged half-heartedly.

He led you outside and away from the crowd, both of you letting out a huff as you noticed the change in temperature.

"I liked your story on the bog snorkelling -- interesting stuff," James broke the awkward silence and you rolled your eyes aggressively.

"As if you read my pieces."

"I do!" He insisted, silently refusing the cigarette you offered. "I've read all your pieces, honest."

"But... huh? You're the one who always said I'd be a shit writer, I've spent years trying to get the negative internal James out of my head! You absolute dickhead!" You shoved his chest, turning back towards the door to return inside.

"Are you thick? I only said that because I fancied you!"

James' words rang heavy in the air, the street otherwise silent. You stared straight ahead of you for a moment, his words settling on top of you as you focused on the orange street lamp.

This whole time, this whole time, you'd been fighting the image you believed James had of you, striving to be better, never being satisfied, for nothing. This whole time you and James had been bickering and trading insults for nothing? And all his flirting... James' annoying charm and ironic compliments and innuendo-filled teasing were all genuine, after all this time? Suddenly your whole world had turned on its axis.

"What do you mean you said it because you fancied me? That is not normal!" You whirled around, accusatory finger pointed his way.

"I don't know! I thought I was supposed to! It wasn't cool to be a sap!" James argued back, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

"Jesus Christ," You muttered, "So what, you thought all my arguing back was just flirting?" James' silence told you all you needed to know.

"Come on, don't act like you didn't like it a little bit! As I recall you were always up for the fight, weren't you? You never avoided me or ignored me. Let's face it, you enjoyed it as much as I did." He stepped closer to you, breath visible in the cool air.

"I didn't enjoy it, what the hell are you talking about? Why would I enjoy trading schoolyard insults with some arrogant, idiotic football player who discredited the one thing I wanted most in my life?" Suddenly you were inches apart, heat emanating from both of you as you fought.

"Like you never said I was stupid for wanting to be a footballer? Face it, love, you're just as bad as me."

And suddenly, despite all your better judgement and every bit of sense in your head, you were kissing him. You didn't know exactly how it had happened, and if anyone were to ever ask you you would absolutely pin the blame on James but there you were, out in the middle of the street without a care in the world.

Every one of your senses was on fire, the smell of his cologne, the taste of his lips, the feeling of his soft curls under your fingers. Everything about James felt like he was made for you, like all the years of you revolving around each other, playing off the other's insult was just a lead-up, preparation for the very moment you kissed for the first time.

James' arms around you were warm, strong from years of working out and protective like a weighted blanket. One hand wrapped around your midsection and the other firmly on your neck you felt wholly surrounded by him, isolated in your own bubble of James.

It was probably a bad idea, but you weren't overly concerned with addressing that fact in any rush. It didn't come as you tilted your head to bring him even closer, it didn't come as you said hurried goodbyes in the pub and collected your coat, it didn't even come as you closed the door to your hotel room, undoing the buttons to James' shirt like they had a personal vendetta against you.

The admittance only came as you lay entangled with him, faces millimetres apart.

"Was that a bad idea?" You asked, genuine self-consciousness mixing with pragmatic anxiety.

"I mean, I quite enjoyed myself, love. Did you not?" James' cheeky smile made you snort out a giggle but you sobered up quickly, hitting him lightly on his toned chest.

"Don't turn this into a joke!" You ordered, "Have we just fucked everything up?" James just looked at you for a minute, taking in the sincerity in your voice and the depth of your eyes.

"Of course we haven't," He assured you. "Do you like me?"

"But--"

"Ah! Do you like me?" He reiterated and you paused, nodding shyly. "See? You like me and I like you. We'll figure everything else out. Start slow; baby steps."

"Baby steps," You agreed, sharing his smile. It really only hit you how much you actually liked James once you'd said it, finally noticing how he might've been looking at you the whole time.

You sent James off early in the morning, both of you needing to make it back to London quickly. You had to get your article written up and James had training. Thankfully there was no awkwardness in your goodbye; James had to rush to meet his parents to drive back by car and you had a train to catch. The only moment of hesitance came as you said goodbye, waving at each other with a giggle as James hopped down the steps. He hesitated halfway, turning to look at you with the glint of mischief in his eye that you'd become very well acquainted with.

In a moment he was at the top of the steps again, swooping in to steal another kiss. You rolled your eyes to hide an embarrassing smile, pushing him back in the direction he came.

"Haven't you got somewhere to be?" You asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. James mimed twisting a knife in his chest but continued down the stairs nonetheless, giving you one last smile before he turned a corner and disappeared from your sight. You sighed like a schoolgirl then laughed at yourself, packing the last of your things to get home.

As you sat on the train, green landscapes passed you through the window and you felt your cell phone buzz from the minuscule pocket of your work trousers.

thinking of u :P <3

You grinned, looking out at the scenery so the people around you wouldn't be able to figure out your embarrassing secret. You felt like a teenage girl again, blushing over a text from the guy you had a crush on.

Everything turned to shit in a matter of hours after returning to London.

First, James' publicist made his statement. It wasn't necessarily terrible, but it really had no regard for you. No statement declaring you both on good terms, no coming to your defence or asking for the press to respect you. James looked like the hero saving a stupid drunk girl, and you still looked desperate for the most popular footballer in the country. You were decently sure it wasn't James' fault, but it did significantly dampen your lovesick giddiness.

The office was half-empty when you arrived, kitten heels clicking against the ground. You said a quick hello to Lily, still dutifully typing away at her computer. You followed her lead, exporting your notes to your desktop computer, formatting the piece and going through edits to have it ready for the next paper.

The sun was setting, sending orange and pink streaks through the sky when the door to your boss' office slammed open, echoing above the cubicles.

"You kissed him?" He yelled and you paled, knowing exactly what he was talking about but not how he knew. That problem was solved when he slammed the magazine down in front of you, no doubt just delivered by the skittery young receptionist running back to the elevator.

FACT OR FICTION? POTTER AND REPORTER CAUGHT SNOGGING AMIDST PUBLIC DENIAL

Fuck. That could not be worse.

The whole piece was essentially dragging your name through the absolute mud now that they had the confirmation there was something going on between you and James. The whole world thought you were sleeping to the top, or for the best scoop, and everyone hated you for it.

You looked up at your boss, words dying on your tongue.

"Please tell me that's not you," He said, grasping at the thinning hair on his head. You couldn't deny it.

"I..." You trailed off, searching for anything you could say to make it better. "I didn't mean to. And I'm being completely honest when I say that the first article was all bullshit. Things have... happened since then." You were already on the verge of tears. Even on an optimistic day, you couldn't have denied that this was utterly shit.

"Jesus." Your boss muttered, beginning to pace. "Look, I like you, you know? You do good work and you're never outta line, but I reckon the higher-ups are gonna be done with you. They wanted you out over the first article but I convinced them it was all speculation. This is proof and makes us all look bad that you're sleeping with someone you interview every other bloody week. Look, I'll do what I can in damage control, but I'd be bringing your stuff home tonight. I'm sorry."

How could he have just left you with that absolute bombshell? Effectively firing you, just like that? The tears had made their way up to your waterline, sitting there mocking you as you refused to let them fall. You submitted your piece and shut off your laptop, angrily stuffing your sparse personal decorations into your shoulder bag to get the fuck out of the building as fast as possible.

The paparazzi were waiting again, of course, like that was what you really needed. You pushed past them, making sure to land an extra hard stomp on Peter's foot, lips twitching into the beginnings of a smile as you heard him curse.

You sat on the tube, staring intently at your feet and trying desperately to think of anything but your current situation. You'd already been approached by someone who'd coughed out "Skank," which really hadn't done anything for your sour mood. All you wanted was to crawl into your bed and never emerge.

You wandered down the street between the metro station and your flat, hands shoved deep in your coat pockets.

"Hey!" Someone called and you glanced over on instinct, senses drawn by the interruption of an otherwise quiet evening. "You're the girl who kissed James Potter, yeah?" It was a girl still in her school uniform, probably sixteen or seventeen. You thought through your options quickly and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess."

"Wicked. How was it?" She asked, chewing on pink gum. There was an aura about her that you liked, not judgemental like everyone else you'd met. If you were still in school you thought you might've been friends with her.

"Pretty good, I'd do it again." A cheeky almost-joke between the two of you, ironic given the shit that it had caused for you.

"We were talking about it at school. Pretty shit how they've treated you. Like they all wouldn't jump at a chance to get close to 'im." You liked the way that she didn't get any closer. Just the two of you standing face to face, divided by the empty road.

"Exactly what I've been saying," You agreed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

"If it was the other way around, if you were the famous one, James would be getting congratulated for getting with you, not ridiculed by the mindless gossip columns. All my friends think it's utter bullshit, stopped buyin' 'em and everything." You could have kissed her if that wasn't tremendously creepy. In five minutes, this schoolgirl had vindicated everything you'd been saying for the past week in a way no one else had.

"Thank you," You said, with more sincerity than you probably should have had for a complete stranger. The girl just shrugged with a smile, nodding before continuing down the street, the sound of her leather school shoes growing quieter with every step.

You felt it in your whole body every time you thought of the interaction for the next few hours, warmth spreading through your chest as you were reminded there were still good people around.

Your other reminder of that fact came with the sound of your buzzer, the laughing of Lily and Marlene echoing off the stone of your building. As you let them in curiously they presented armfuls of takeout, the smell of Chinese food immediately floating through your flat.

Lily took the responsibility of setting out the food while Marlene took control of your little television, flipping between channels until she found a suitable romcom starting.

You didn't speak about what had happened, no one mentioned James Potter or the bloody Sunday People. Yet, there was an air of tenderness that let you know the girls knew exactly what was happening and how you were feeling about it.

Still, there was something bothering you. You couldn't give it a name immediately, only a tugging in your stomach while the girls were entertaining you, but persistent nonetheless.

It wasn't until you were all crammed into your bed, the other two peacefully asleep, that you could identify the sensation. It was an overwhelming desire, a need to write that you hadn't felt in ages. It was the same feeling that had pushed you to be a journalist in the first place, an inspiration you typically only felt watching a magical soccer final.

You crept out of your bedroom, switching on your computer at the kitchen table, squinting at the aggressive blue light. And when a blank Word document appeared before you, you started writing. Obsessively, feverishly, words poured out of you at a rate that hadn't happened since you'd started at Sunday People.

The words of the school girl fresh in your mind, you started an article vastly different from your usual kind. Instead of strategies and highlights you dissected your own experience of the past week, saying everything you hadn't let yourself unload to the paparazzi outside your office (though with fewer curse words than they would have received). It could have been minutes or hours that you were writing and you wouldn't have noticed, eyes glued on the screen in front of you.

You didn't realise you'd fallen asleep until Lily woke you gently with a hand on your shoulder, offering a steaming mug of tea. It was light outside, the world already up and awake. You were glad it was a weekend as the girls didn't need to rush off to work, cooking a simple breakfast for you all to share.

"What've you written?" Marlene asked, the second part of her sentence unnecessary: since you don't have a job to write for. You shrugged, taking a bite of some eggs.

"Just something I had to get off my chest. Might see if I can sell it to someone to tide me over 'til I figure out what I'm doing with my life."

"Can we read?" You made a 'go ahead' gesture, the computer already open to the screen.

A WOMAN'S UNWILLING WEEK IN THE PUBLIC EYE:

How a woman always loses.

You sat in mild discomfort as Lily and Marlene read your piece in silence, anxiously awaiting their reactions. They weren't what you were expecting.

When they turned back to face you, Lily had tears in her eyes, red tones brought out in her skin. Even Marlene looked uncharacteristically moved, not at all the reaction you were expecting. Firstly, it was completely unedited so you suspected it was somewhat of a mess from your midnight haze. Secondly, it was more of a vent than anything, getting your hatred for invasive paparazzi off your chest. You thought you'd all laugh about it then move on with your days.

"Lils, what's wrong?" You didn't mean to laugh, it was more out of surprise than anything else.

"It's just, it's so raw and real. It's so unfair," She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater.

"Jesus, you don't have to cry," You said lightly, "I'm fine! I hated that bloody place anyway."

"That's not the point," Marlene pointed out, "And Lily's right, this is really confronting stuff. It's great."

"Thanks," You mumbled, studying a lamp for something to do.

"Can we talk about James?" Your head snapped back to look at her.

"What about him?"

"Clearly there's been some... developments in your relationship, which we don't have to talk about--"

"Yet," Marlene interrupted.

"The point is that it looks like there's feelings involved now. What are you doing about them? Because if you publish that, it's putting everything out there, and even I can't tell how you feel about James right now," Lily finished.

"I don't want to talk to him," You said quickly, "I know it's not his fault but I can't think about him without getting mad. It's like I wrote; he ends up fine while I lose my job over one kiss."

"Understandable," Marlene nodded, "But if I know James at all, he'll be going crazy every minute that you ignore him."

You had much to consider when the girls left. The state of your career, your feelings for James, everything felt too big and overwhelming to make any decisions about. So, you took a nap.

The rest of your weekend was spent sending your then-edited article to as many newspapers and blogs as you could and hiding out in your flat, dodging James' calls.

Unfortunately, you liked him. You'd figured out that much. More unfortunately, he hadn't done anything to help you out in all this mess, benefiting from the press in a way that only England's favourite footballer could.

On Monday morning your piece was published. Not the biggest or most reputable newspaper, if your name hadn't still been trending it probably would have gone largely noticed. Instead, it blew up.

It had mixed reviews, of course, a tell-all so blatantly feminist would always attract its haters, but you were floored by the support it was receiving. Women were validating your experiences in a way you hadn't expected even a few days ago. It made you not so scared to leave the house anymore.

On Tuesday morning, Remus called you. You had the thought that it might have been James calling to grovel on Remus' phone, but you thought it was a smart enough idea you'd indulge anyway. If it was Sirius you wouldn't have picked up.

Instead, it was actually Remus.

"Come to the media room this afternoon," He said, evidently not wasting time with pleasantries.

"What?" You asked, caught off-guard.

"Just do it. Two o'clock."

"Remus, you know I don't have a job anymore, right?"

"Come off it, you know anyone on the team would let you in. You've got quite a name for yourself," He chanced a joke and you rolled your eyes.

"What, whore?" You retorted, only a little worried it would be true.

"I'm hanging up," Was all he said before the line went dead. You huffed, snapping your phone closed with all the attitude of a spoiled private schoolgirl.

Yet, at two o'clock you were standing in front of the media room at James' team's stadium, questioning all of your life choices.

The room seemingly went silent when you entered, dozens of pairs of eyes staring you down as you nervously stuck to the wall. You felt the derogatory, leering stares from all the sleazy men who'd been accusing you of sleeping with players since you first started in the field. It made you want to drop dead.

James made his way to the lectern up the front of the room with a cough, quieting down the chaos.

"Afternoon, everyone. I'm sure you're all wondering why I've called you here, I've got some things I'd like to address.

"As you all well know, I've been a frequent face in the papers lately, and not for my brilliant playing as it usually is. I recently got followed down a street after a night out looking after an old friend who happened to be a colleague of yours. Now I know that my godly good looks lead you to believe that I don't feel the same as all of you, but I do. And I'd like you all to consider how you'd feel if a man with a camera followed you all the way home after you'd been out for a night with your friends and a few cheeky drinks. It's pretty invasive if you can't imagine.

"Now, all this press hasn't really affected me. However, my dear friend has been subject to misogynistic articles, slut-shaming and harassment all because we were seen out together and a few hateful words from someone I used to consider a mate." You had no idea where this was going, but you were absolutely fascinated. James was more well-spoken, more mature and solemn than you'd ever seen him, though he still had his audience in the palm of his hand with his casual jokes. It was a masterclass in public speaking.

"If you haven't read any of my friend's pieces I would highly recommend them; she's got a brilliant voice and I personally read everything she publishes. However, I'm not here to talk about her work; I'd actually like to talk about her if you all don't mind."

What the hell was happening?

"In the midst of all these articles over the last week, I know you've all seen various pictures of us, including from secondary school. A few come to my mind, our graduation picture is a highlight, but I'd really like to talk about this one." James brandished a printed-out photo you recognised instantly.

"This photo was taken when we were twelve or thirteen years old at someone's party. That night, as you tend to do when you're young and bored, we played spin the bottle and ended up being each other's first kiss. I'm sure you're all wondering why I'm telling this story now, and it's because ever since that night as I have recently realised, almost a decade later, I have been embarrassingly, stupidly in love with her."

Your life wasn't real, it absolutely could not be.

"And though I've done some incredibly dumb things over the years, somehow she's managed to like me back -- at least a little. So I'm setting the record straight right now, she is not 'sleeping to the top' or trying to get a secret scoop out of me because I'm the one who's been chasing after her for twelve years.

"I know I've been rambling on for far too long so I'll wrap it up here, but I just wanted to end this little conference with a warning that if I see any more disgusting, hateful articles about her, you won't be getting another comment from me again. So nice to see you all!"

The room started to trickle out but you were stuck to your spot against the wall, frozen in absolute shock. You hardly even noticed the dirty looks you got from some of the people you'd been working alongside for years.

You spotted James in another corner, drinking out of a plastic water bottle and messing with his hair. A nervous tell.

The room was almost completely empty when you approached him, heels muffled by the carpeted floor.

"Hey stranger," You said softly, feeling way out of your depth. He turned in an instant, smile lighting up his face then melting away as it was replaced with an insecure frown.

"Was that okay? I didn't want to embarrass you but I wanted to step up and do something and protect you and--"

"Have you really loved me since we were twelve?" You cut him off bluntly.

"Every day since, as I've figured out," He agreed with a slight nod, glasses slipping down his nose slightly.

"What about all the flirting with Lily? The other girls over the years?"

"So obviously fake. Distractions. It's never been anyone but you, love."

You could only stare at him for a moment, your whole world shifting beneath your feet. James' face became increasingly worried, brow furrowing more the longer you remained unresponsive.

"If you don't feel the same that's totally alright, I still stand by what I did and I don't want you being harassed for--"

You'd always thought that cutting someone off with a kiss was ridiculously cheesy, reserved for shitty Hallmark movies with grown-up child actors who never got their big break. Turns out though, when you realise that your girlish crush on the star footballer has actually been a complicated love of twelve years, you don't really want to waste any more time.

When you woke up on Wednesday morning with James next to you, body heat keeping you cozy, you were convinced you had to be dreaming. When you eventually got up to check your emails and start your day the hypothesis was only solidified by the impossible email waiting in your inbox.

The fucking BBC wanted to hire you as a football commentator and sports writer. Your dream job at your dream company. If you let out an embarrassing squeal then that was none of your business.

You were still convinced you were hallucinating the whole thing until James came in with his biggest smile and that look in his eyes that told you he probably had a hand in getting your name on the BBC desks.

Even a few weeks ago you would have been mad at him, assuming it was mocking or he had ulterior motives. But it wasn't a few weeks ago anymore, and James Potter's whole, endless heart belonged to you. You weren't letting that go anytime soon.

750 notes · View notes

l1tw1ck · 10 months ago

Note

dean winchester consumes my mind LAWDDD I beg for anything with that man, surviving off of scraps looking for more top male reader x dean 🤕

- 🛸

No Longer a Mentor

Sub!Bottom Dean Winchester x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,512 ☆

After spending his young adult years with you, his mentor, more than his father, Dean found himself falling for you. He eventually made a move and forever changed the dynamic of your relationship

🕯️: well luckily for u, i just finished this draft :3

CW: Age Gap, First Time Bottoming, Blowjob, Fingering, Frottage (Sort Of), Creampie

Dean’s known you for a couple years, you're a friend of his dad’s and a fellow hunter. You became his mentor in place of his father, who often hunted on his own and left Dean in your care. You liked to stay in your state since the area was basically a supernatural magnet while his father preferred to travel the country so he chose you to finally allow Dean to stay in one place for more than a week. If you were anybody else, Dean would've been annoyed that his dad didn't take him along despite his age and experience. Instead of going to college, Dean spent those years learning to hunt with his father and mostly you. Thanks to all the time you spend with each other, his allegiance to you is almost stronger than his allegiance to his father. He hangs on your every word and treats you like a god. It's thanks to you that he finally accepted his bisexuality. But he doesn't want to tell you that.

He first started feeling differently towards you when you started to become more physical with him. You often hold onto his shoulder with your strong hand or pull him out of the way by his waist and it drives him crazy. He so desperately wants to feel your hands on other parts of his body and vice versa. Your voice makes him weak in the knees and you sound especially attractive when you've found your prey. You're much older than him but he can't get rid of his feelings for you. He tries his best to be content with just having a crush.

After you two had dinner, you decided to drink with him. The two of you laughed and talked over a few cans of beer and deepened your relationship further.

“You ever been in a relationship, [Name]?” Dean asks, slightly tipsy.

“A few. I mostly slept around in my college years and experimented a bit with other hunters but in the end I decided to marry my job instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to marry someone I could tell everything to so I tried dating within my circle but none of the hunters seemed to click with me in the ways that really matter.”

“That makes sense…then you probably haven't…” He trails off.

“I probably haven't what?”

“Had sex…lately……”

You laugh. “No, I haven't. Honestly, I think getting laid would really help me. It's been a rough couple weeks.”

“I…” Dean gulps. “I could help with that….if you don't mind…….being with a guy..”

You look at him in surprise. “You're drunk.”

“I’ve only had two cans and a half…You know I don't get drunk that fast.”

You look at him differently, no longer with the eyes of a mentor. “You’ll bottom?”

Dean nods.

You smile in amusement. “I might be a little rough, can you handle that?”

He nods again, more enthusiastically this time.

“Come here.” You motion for him to come over to your side of the table. He stands in front of you. “Kneel.” You order. Dean immediately kneels, his cock steadily growing in size. You unbuckle your belt and pull down your underwear. Dean stares at your cock in awe, body heating up as he watches you jerk it to its true size.

“Fuck. You’re big.” He breathes out.

“Too big?”

“I can handle it.” He says, licking his lips.

“Attaboy.” You run your hands through his hair. Dean blushes. “Ever done this before?”

“Never..” His eyes are trained on your length.

“Is this your first time with a man?”

“Yeah…”

Your gaze changes. Dean shivers in arousal. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time…I’ve been…fingering myself, in case we….” He looks away.

You grin, turned on by the thought of that. “You'll have to show me that some day.”

Dean’s face gets redder.

“Now, let me see how you suck cock.”

He's so hard right now. He opens his mouth and slowly swallows your length. He makes a dragged out moan in pleasure as he feels your thickness enter him. Pre cum leaks out of his cock as he imagines how it’ll feel in his ass. He bobs his head up and down enthusiastically, mimicking his past girlfriends by simultaneously swirling his tongue around your shaft.

“Fuck–” You moan. “That's it– good boy.”

Words can't express how happy Dean gets when you praise him.

“You're better at this than I expected, baby.” You smile at his cuteness. He can't hide how pleased he is. “You like sucking dick, don't you? I never thought you’d be a cock slut, Dean.”

He moans. He’ll happily be your cock slut. He pulls away and licks your length in a very sexy way, gaining more confidence thanks to his elevated horniess. “I love your cock, sir.”

“Of course, you’re my cock slut.” You press your hand against his cheek. “Stand up and take your clothes off, I wanna use your other hole.”

Dean’s cock throbs even more. He stands up and quickly removes his clothes, shivering under your hungry and lustful gaze. You pat your lap and he quickly sits on top of you, your shafts pressed against each other.

You grope his ass. “I don’t have any lube..” You trail off, mesmerized by his soft butt.

“I already fingered myself earlier.” He smiles.

“Good boy.” You praise him. “Then spit’ll be enough. Say ‘ah’.” You bring two fingers into Dean’s mouth. He sucks on your fingers in the sluttiest way he can before you take them out and gently push one of your saliva covered fingers inside his soft hole. You give him a moment before adding the second, then you start to finger him.

Dean lets out the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard. “[Name]~” He arches his back and subconsciously thrusts his hips, his cock rubbing against yours. “Your- yours feel so- fuck~” He groans. “So much better!”

You moan as well thanks to the sudden friction. You bring him into a sloppy kiss, the temperature between the two of you steadily rising. Dean pulls away first, more desperate for air, and presses his forehead against your shoulder. “Don't stop– mm- gonna come~” He whimpers. Your fingers find his prostate, an immediate gasp of pleasure leaving Dean’s lips. He throws his head back. “There! Yes!” He moans, grinding against your cock even faster. The combination of his moans, his expression, and his cock against yours all contribute to bringing you to closer your orgasm.

Dean comes first, cum splattering over the two of you. Yours comes second thanks to the amazing look on Dean’s face.

“You're so fucking sexy, Dean, you know that?” You take your fingers out and knead his ass.

“I know.” He gives you a kiss. “I want you inside me.”

You lift Dean up and slowly lower him down on your cock. You both let out noises of pleasure as you penetrate him. He bites down on his lip, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his ass stretching to accommodate your girth. Once you bottom out, you give him time to get used to it. “Your cunt feels fucking amazing.” You groan. It's hard to hold yourself back but thankfully for you, Dean has no intention of waiting any longer. He places his hands on your shoulders and starts riding you. He quickly loses his momentum as the pleasure begins to overwhelm him. You help him out by grabbing his waist and doing the work for him, allowing Dean to fully enjoy himself.

He knew anal sex would feel good, especially because it's anal sex with you, but he never really had an idea of how good it’d feel until now. Now he's completely blissed out and only able to moan like a slut. It's especially thanks to your quick and rough speed that he's unable to think properly. You couldn't get yourself to go slower even if you tried. His ass just feels way too good.

“Your ass is perfect, Dean–” You groan. “So fucking good-” You hold him and stand up then gently place him on the table after clearing it of the empty cans. You rut into him like a monster, so horny that you feel like you could fuck him all night. You can never get enough of him.

Dean arches his back and shakes as ropes of cum spurt out of his dick. You know you should stop, or at least slow down, but you can't. “‘M sorry baby, fuck–” You moan, hanging your head low as you find your orgasm approaching. “‘M gonna come inside, okay? Gonna fill up your tight fucking cunt with my seed–”

Dean’s conscious enough to understand you. “Ye- yes!” He grins. He's been wanting to know what it feels like to get creampied. “Co- come inside!”

Encouraged by his words, you spill your cum into his warm and welcoming hole. Your thrusts come to a stop and the two of you start to catch your breaths.

“That…was so fucking good.” Dean says, leaning back.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #bottom male character

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bumblequinn · 1 year ago

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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.

as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)

but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:

changing expectations

the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!

my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.

when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.

so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?

with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.

with that in mind:

#1: work slower

when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.

instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.

i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!

now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.

doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.

however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:

#2: switch projects

sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.

this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.

the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.

what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.

but it doesn't have to stop there.

#3: switch focus

maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?

let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:

what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today. okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now. alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily? what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?

and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?

what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for? what if i try sampling something obscure? what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?

any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.

or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.

but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:

#4: learn something new

when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.

for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴‍☠️)

it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)

that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:

music theory and composition music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang

mixing and production dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix

general inspiration nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!

(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)

of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:

#5: consume art you love

not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.

but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.

and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.

what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.

as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.

none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.

and finally,

#6: rest, and live your life

let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?

take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).

it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.

i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.

when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)

before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:

be kind to yourself.

being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.

i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.

i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.

thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.

with care, bee 🐦

#adhd #advice #asks #from #sourpatchsquids

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fisshbones · 1 month ago

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Obey me nsfw hc’s! Ft: Thirteen, Belphegor, & Asmodeus

Warnings: Nsfw, cursing, somnophila mentioned in Belphie’s (not super detailed,) Thirteen refers to her strap as her “cock,” impact play, Oral (giving (Belphie,) Mommy Kink mention, Degradation, Belphegor is lowkey a freak, choking mentions, maybe ooc, watersports (Belphie,) gn!reader.

A/N: First time trying actual smut so sorry if it sucks lol, also haven’t written in ages 😭

Thirteen!

She’s definitely a switch, though she leans more towards being on top.

When she bottoms she’s pretty bratty, please put her in her place!!!

I personally think denying her would be the best way to punish her.

She would definitely beg and plead to cum ♡

She definitely has a mommy kink (receiving)

She’s also very into temperature and wax play.

When she’s on top, she’s bossy af and expects you to listen to her every whim (within consent ofc) if not, get ready for a good bad time.

She prefers to overstimulate you as punishment, sometimes she likes to deny you of your orgasm as well.

She’s big in dirty talking, she likes to degrade you and praise you at the same time.

Think “such a good little slut, you take mommy’s cock so well.”

Aftercare: is very important to her! Afterwards she makes to gently wipe you down, kissing any marks she left behind. Always runs you both a bath afterwards.

Belphegor

Okay I’m gonna be so fr you’re likely to be on top like 90% of the time.

That being said he’s still the one in charge for the most part.

Man is also a dirty talker, pretty much exclusively degrades you. Unless he knows you need a little extra love rn. (Don’t ask how he knows, he’s more in tune with your wellbeing than he lets on.)

When he subs for you he’s the biggest brat in the history of brats.

He likes his sex feral: let him choke you, or you can choke him, let him pull your hair, smack him, let him bite and mark you everywhere. Honestly all of these things could go either way and he’d be down.

Belphegor is definitely into somnophila, that being said if you don’t want to participate in it (whether it’s giving/receiving/ect) he won’t be upset. He’s cool with whatever, but he wouldn’t mind waking up to some good ol’ sloppy toppy.

This man probably freakier than described here. I could definitely see him being into water-sports, specifically on the giving end. Something about marking you with his piss really fuels his more possessive tendencies. If he was feeling particularly lazy and mean he might just straight up pee in you. 😖

Aftercare us kinda meh with him. He’ll hastily wipe you down with a damp rag before throwing it back into wherever he got it from. (Dw he’ll take care of it and put it in the laundry when he gets back up.)

Belphie does like to engage in pillow talk afterwards before he falls back asleep.

Asmodeus

Switch of course.

You want him to bottom? Done. Want him to dom? Done. Wanna fuck him till he’s too cock drunk to think or vice versa? Done and Done ✔️

Your pleasure is his pleasure ♡

He really doesn’t have a lot of no’s during sex, but he is not a fan of anything that could leave permanent marks on himself.

He would be hesitant to do the same to you, but if that’s what you really want he’ll do it, just don’t expect to do something like that to him next.

Moving on from his no’s , besides praise, I think lingerie would be one of his biggest turn ons.

Asmo loves to go shopping for all sorts of new lingerie sets, both for you and him. There’s just something so classy about it. Lingerie is like the gift wrap on a present, you and him being the gifts.

You can expect aftercare to be nothing short of lovely. He cleans you up with a very soft towel, then starts running a bath the perfect temperature. He has drinks/water in his room so you guys can rehydrate after y’all’s marathon sex.

If you’ll allow it, he will carry and lift you into the bath. He’ll kiss any sore spot and apologize. Normally during this time he likes to talk about stuff, (mostly more intimate/personal esque conversations.)

While you guys are talking he takes his time to massage all the knots in your shoulders, neck, and generally sore areas.

If you enjoyed please consider liking and/or reblogging!

Please Do Not Repost, Translate, or Plagiarize.

#mouse writes #obey me belphegor x reader #belphegor smut #belphegor x reader #asmodeus x reader #obey me asmodeus smut #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me thirteen x reader #obey me thirteen #thirteen x reader #thirteen smut #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #Spotify

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slaaverin · 1 month ago

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Jikook came home today and I couldn't be happier 💜🥺 They will be insufferable once they get out I can already feel it 😂😅 I missed them 😭

Today I wanted to talk about something that was showcased on AYS, I call it The Smugness of Mr. Jeon Jungkook™

Smugness of what you may ask?

The absolute cocky pride of having The Park Jimin Extraordinaire as a boyfriend.

I can't say I didn't love it when I watched.

Jungkook couldn't help to show him off on every occasions

This is the man in question showcased plainly by Jungkook:

Also very important to include him between food shots in case we didn't know Park Jimin was also part of his "special" food regimen *cough*

He felt the urge to inform us that his crush gives him the most attention:

"Look at my boyfriend, he's doing very boyfriendy stuff with me because he is mine, my crush, mine only and his attention is just for me, look at him good because you're having none of it"

Ok 🤨

He's really rubbing it in our faces that only he has the Ultimate Boyfriend Privilege™

Jungkook, this is a bit cruel

He even reached peak smugness. The pride. The power move. The "We're Kings of the world" attitude. We get it, he is yours. Jungkook really is a fool in love 💜

Still keeping his little smirk.

"Look at my boyfriend, he's sick and miserable but look how good he still looks, how both of us look absolutely stunning together, I'm having the time of my life, stay mad losers"

Of course Jimin looks good even sick and at any time as a matter of fact, even while he sleeps, and Jungkook is still stunned by it. What a sight indeed.

Because Jeon Jungkook thinks Jimin is prettier than clouds and can't help but scream it to the world. It's all very natural. So obviously he is proud that Jimin is his boyfriend.

Jimin is not just anybody. He's so special and the fact jungkook has him makes him one of the luckiest man in the world (and vice versa) but he really put the nail in the coffin about this in AYS. Just in case we didn't get it.

DON'T WORRY JK GOD WE GET IT WE LEAVE HIM TO YOU

Do you get how insane is that growth? From 2015-2016 when Jungkook was so shy and sometimes closed off? To THIS TODAY?

That escalated quickly.

Now he has no fear anymore and doesn't hesitate to tell and show and express his love he has for Jimin and his pride to have him.

Jimin is funny because he didn't do it as often like Jungkook during AYS, he was more lowkey, but the one time he actually did the same it was PURE INSANITY

I mean Jimin doesn't play often but when he does he plays big game. Like go big or go home. He literally spelled it out for us.

Yes he is your boyfriend. Yes. Yes yes yes. We know he looks cute.

I also love how they both took time to film each other as well. This was clearly their main focus.

Aahhhh it makes my heart so happy for them. They admire each other. They are glad to be together and they show it to us freely.

What a time to be a jikooker, what a journey.

They aren't the ace duo for nothing and will always be a power couple 🔥

Good for them 😌

Take care everybody 💜

#jikook #kookmin #jimin #jungkook #ays #travel show

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hyunfilms · 1 year ago

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this time around (lee felix) | one shot.

—summary: life decides it's finally the right time.

—pairing: lee felix x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers | fluff, smut

—word count: 3.9k

—content/warnings: blue haired felix 😮‍💨, cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex - but not super descriptive!!, lots of kisses and intimate/sweet moments, use of pet names: baby/angel/love, oc’s friend also uses ‘baby’ in a platonic way, quickly edited so pls excuse any mistakes!!

—INSPIRED BY: LOVE ME AGAIN - V

It’s funny how life works.

Especially when you’re sitting at this wedding, sipping on another glass of rosé— staring at the one man who, at one point, meant the entire universe to you.

Then, it’s also funny how life works; when life decides that this is your person, just not the right time.

“Girl, can you go and do something? He keeps looking at you. And don’t tell me he isn’t because I can see that blue head from miles away.” One of your bestfriends since college said. He nudges your arm, making you almost choke on the sip you just took.

“No, Reggie!” You almost whine, turning towards him. “It’s been so long, I don’t even know what I’d say to him.”

“Okay, but baby, he looks like he’s dying to talk to you. Poor Felix. Y/N always playing her goddamn games.”

“Quit it.” You nudge him back and he snorts.

“I’m kidding. But seriously, he looks like he wants to talk to you. Who cares if it’s been so long? I’m sure the conversation will flow perfectly. Give it a chance.” He takes a sip of his own cocktail. “Besides, if I remember correctly, you were head over heels for that man just as he was for you.” You sigh, setting your glass down— quickly reminiscing about the past.

You might have been young, and you may not have experienced everything life had to offer yet; but to say Felix was the love of your life would be an understatement.

He was everything to you.

Love, adoration, fun.

Sweetness.

He was also sadness, anger, hurt.

Pain.

Everything that entails love; being so, so in love.

And it’s just unfortunate that it wasn’t the right time because Felix was someone you pictured your life with. Everything about the relationship was right, and equally balanced. He showed you just how much he loved you and how much he adored you. You had more good times than bad with him. He taught you how to communicate better, to express your needs and wants, to enjoy life and live in the present moment.

He taught you so much that he really is part of the reason why you’re the person you are today.

After the three years of dating, Felix was graduating college and you were going into your senior year. Understandably, you felt like you needed to experience your last year by yourself, and you felt like Felix needed to figure out his plans moving forward. As much as you loved the way he factored you into every decision, you felt like it was wrong for him to do so— for him to feel like his life revolved solely around you. And of course, you loved him. This would’ve worked. But, it wouldn’t have felt right.

You needed to find yourself without Felix, and vice versa.

Breaking up with Felix was probably the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, but he understood. And because he loved you, he let you go. There was no bad blood, no hint of hate or anger; Felix had only left with more love and hope, praying that you’ll be okay.

Maybe one day, you’ll find your way back to each other.

It’s funny how life works.

“I’m not going to force it. I’ll let it happen if it happens.” You look at Reggie, taking another big sip of your rosé; eyes quickly glancing over to Felix from over the glass. He’s still conversing with a few mutual friends, eyes meeting yours from a distance. His eyes are soft, facial expression slightly unreadable.

Pressed, crisp black button down with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. Silver watch adorning the left wrist, slacks sitting nicely on his frame.

You’re sure of the butterflies you feel. It’s crazy how Felix still has this effect on you.

You clear your throat and revert your attention back to Reggie with a: “Can we go dance?”

“Now you’re talking.” Reggie laughs, grabbing your hand and leading you to the dance floor for a dance with other friends. The majority of the time you’re on the dance floor, you’ve temporarily pushed your thoughts and feelings away to enjoy being around friends you haven’t been able to hang out with or see in quite some time. You’re enjoying yourself, singing and dancing along to the music blasting in the venue. At one point, you don’t realize that Felix and his friends have joined in, creating one huge crowd in the middle of the dance floor that’s become the life of the party.

“Hey, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and get some air. I’ll be back in a few.” You say in Reggie’s ear. He nods, throwing up the ‘okay’ sign to acknowledge that he understood you through the loud music.

“You need me to come babysit your ass?” He leans near your ear to quickly ask.

“I’ll be fine!” You laugh, rushing off to the bathroom to relieve yourself from all that rosé. You take a couple of moments to freshen up and pat away at your makeup, hoping to keep it together for the remainder of the night. You fluff your hair a bit before giving yourself one last look before walking out and heading towards the back end of the hotel.

It’s a beautiful night tonight— one where the stars are twinkling brightly above, dotted throughout the night sky and circling around the full moon. There’s a faint breeze that feels awfully good on your skin right now, the waves crashing against the surface just right below the hill where the hotel sits.

“Hey.” A familiar, deep voice comes from behind you. You fiddle with your fingers a bit, bottom lip tucked underneath your teeth as you turn and come face to face with Felix— eyes completely fixed on the one man whom you’ve always loved; the one man who, at one point, meant the entire universe to you. “I’m sorry, I just came outside to make sure you were okay. But, I guess I should’ve figured it was since Reggie was still—” Felix shakes his head and lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “Nevermind. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Thank you for checking. I—” You lazily point at the sky. “I just needed some air. Was getting really hot in there.”

“Yeah it was.” He laughs a bit. “You sure you’re doing okay? Do you need me to get you water or anything?” Typical Felix, you think. He’s still the same. Everything about him has remained unchanged.

“I’m okay, Felix. Thank you.” You respond softly. “It’s nice to see you.” He digs his hands into his pockets, head tilting to the side.

“It’s nice to see you, too. It’s been so long.” He smiles. He’s the first to step forward and envelope you in a hug, taking in his scent as you hug him back. Oddly enough, everything feels the same. Felix’s hugs have always been the best, and part of you hates having to part once the moment is over. “You look amazing, Y/N.”

“You do, too.” You point at his hair. “Though, I have to say the blue hair was a surprise?” He laughs and nods.

“Uh yeah, was kinda a bet with some of my friends.”

“It looks good though, you pull it off well.”

“Thank you.” He licks his lips before nodding towards the bench further down the path. “Do you wanna catch up?” He pauses. “I-I mean it’s fine if you wanna get back to the party, totally understand. I just thought we could kill two birds with one stone and–”

“I’d love to.” You cut him off with a sweet smile, letting Felix lead the way to the bench.

And so here you are, sitting side by side with Felix— enjoying the night while the music continues to play in the background. You start by telling Felix what you’ve been up to all these years, how your parents have been, living life in the city. Felix says he’s been in and out of the city, traveling back and forth between Australia to hang out with family in between work. You share lots of laughs when you update each other about family and their whereabouts, reminiscing about the times when your families would have lots of fun together. The both of you also talk about how it’s been awhile since everyone’s been under the same roof, but it’s a nice occasion to be together. Then, somehow, the conversation shifts to love and dating. You awkwardly tell Felix that you haven’t really been in a serious relationship since graduation. You’ve dated around, but nothing felt right.

Nothing felt equally balanced, or like it was meant to be.

But, it’s okay. You reassure him you’ve been okay focusing on you and doing your own thing. In time, you’ll welcome whatever is meant to be in your life. And Felix tells you he’s glad to hear that— that he’s also dated around but things just didn’t feel right, either.

“Y/N.” He calls for you as he looks out, then shifts his attention back to you. “Are you happy?” He looks at you, really looks at you, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Almost like he’s doing his best to read you, to find the answer deep within your orbs, your body language.

“I guess so, yeah.” You softly smile at him before looking at the view. “Are you?” He shrugs a bit.

“Yeah. Think so.” He licks his lips and lets out a small breath. “As long as you’re happy, then that’s all that matters to me.”

“Thanks, Lix.” There’s a comfortable silence that falls between you two after that conversation. But, something shifts in the air; shifts enough to the point where you feel Felix’s eyes rest back on you from your peripherals. The sudden tension could be felt from miles away, but you’re not sure how to act on it. The simplest thing you could do is—

“I’m sorry, is there something on my face?” You break the silence and ask, a bit confused as to why Felix just keeps looking at you, staring; fixed. He lets out a small laugh before shaking his head.

“No, there isn’t. I just—” He pauses. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Always been. I can’t help it.” He says, eyes softening again as he settles on your features. He gently brushes the hair away from your face, thumb trailing down to your cheek to caress the surface. You lean into his touch a little more, having to pull away when you realize the reality of this all.

It’s funny how life works.

“You know.. I think I’m gonna call it a night.” You shyly chuckle and look down at your lap, hands awkwardly rubbing away at the fabric of your dress as you let the excuse linger in the air for a second. “I didn’t realize how exhausted I was after all that dancing and singing.” Felix chuckles. He feels a little embarrassed, but he also dug himself into this one. He shouldn’t have reached out so quickly. He couldn’t help it.

“Do you need me to drive you anywhere?”

“No, I rented out a room for the night solely for this reason.” You stand with Felix following suit.

“Let me walk you to your room then?”

“Oh, you really don’t have to Lix. I’ll be okay.” He smiles hearing the nickname roll off your tongue.

“I want to.” You look at him with a small smile and nod.

“Okay. I just need to grab my things.” He follows behind, keeping a safe distance just to keep you comfortable– not knowing that you’d rather have him close than far away.

Inside, everyone is still keeping up the energy except for a few that have either left, or decided to sit down for the remainder of the night. Reggie is drinking water at your table, and he can’t help but throw a certain look your way when he sees you walking in with Felix following right behind you. You catch on though, and you simply shrug while Felix returns to his friends to let them know he’s heading out.

“Okay so.. what exactly is happening here? Miss ‘It’s been so long, I don’t even know what I’d say to him.’” You roll your eyes and grab your things.

“I’m heading up to my room. Felix is just walking me there.”

“Walking you all the way up to the second floor? Goodness me.” You laugh and shake your head.

“You should get to yours soon, too.”

“Mhm, I want a progress report tomorrow morning.” He puckers his lips before eyeing you up and down.

“Stop it.” You glare at him. “I love you, goodnight.” You simply tell him before turning on your heel to bid your other friends goodbye, along with the bride and groom.

“Get it girl, I love you too!” You hear him respond just as you continue your goodbye’s until you’re near the entrance, with Felix waiting right outside the doors in the hallway.

“Hope you’re ready for a good long trip up to the second floor.” Felix laughs.

“Yeah, sounds pretty exhausting, honestly. It’s been a night.”

“It has, but I had lots of fun.”

“I did too.” He steps inside the elevator after you, leaning back against the railing. He eyes your figure, the way the dress hugs your curves nicely, heels strapped around your ankles. You’ve always been so beautiful; everything about you, inside and out. You can see the way Felix is focused on you through his reflection on the elevator doors in front of you, and it makes your heart do flips.

Because he does that thing he always does— when he tilts his head at a certain angle just to see you, read you, perfectly. Knowing you’ll meet his eyes at some point just for him to pull you in closer.

To plant a kiss on your lips,

Down to your jaw,

Collarbone—

“Y/N, is this not your floor?” Felix asks, breaking you out of your thoughts when you realize he’s holding the elevator doors open.

“Oh, right. Yeah, sorry. Just zoned out for a bit.” He lets out a tiny laugh as he watches you walk down the hallway, turning right at the end to get to the second door. You tap your hotel key against the reader, hand twisting the handle to unlock the door. Before you can open it fully, you turn back to Felix— seeing him quietly standing there with his hands dug into his pockets. “This is me. Thanks for walking me to my room, Lix.”

“Course. I guess I’ll let you be.” He smiles toothlessly at you. Your inner dialogue is conflicted right now, wondering if you should just let him be and let this end right where it is—

While the other half is yearning to keep him around, to have his company, to just be with him even after all these years.

“Have a good night, pretty girl.” He continues, hoping that he really doesn’t have to part with you right now. He’s not gonna force it though, and he’s not gonna say anything else— even though he feels like he has a lot more to say to you tonight. Maybe this is how it was meant to be after all, which Felix will have to learn to put to rest if it truly ends this way.

But, before he can turn on his heel to walk away, you follow up with:

“Actually, do you wanna just stay and hang out a bit more?”

“If it’s not a bother.”

“Never. Sorry, I should’ve asked earlier. I just didn’t want to make it awkward or whatever.”

“Could never be that way with you, Y/N.” You chuckle, stepping in and letting Felix follow you in. You set your clutchbag onto the side table at the corner of the room, undoing your heels and setting them aside.

“God, that feels amazing.” Felix laughs as he sits on the edge of your bed, watching as you get comfortable. “I can’t wait to get comfortable. You have a room here, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you wanna change and just come back here? I feel bad that I’ll be the only one getting comfortable.” He laughs a bit and shakes his head.

“I’m good for now. I promise.” He watches as you undo your necklace. “Need help with your dress?” You look at him through the mirror as you set your necklace down onto the drawer and silently nod. “I got you.” He says, getting behind you to help you unzip your dress. It’s something small, but so intimate and sweet.

And with Felix, it feels perfectly right. Even if years have passed. You never feel out of place with him, and he only feels like home to you.

He slowly unzips your dress, eyes trailing down as his hand falls down to the small of your back. You feel his breath tickle the back of your neck, body only inches away from yours as he keeps his position there.

“Felix.” You softly call his name, and he can tell. He just knows. He looks at you through the mirror, hand slowly wrapping around your waist.

“Is it weird to say that I’ve really missed you?” He says lowly as his eyes trail down your neck this time, fixed on the weak spot that he remembers so, so well.

“No. I’ve missed you, too.”

“I mean it.” His fingers are fiddling with the strap of your dress. “When I saw you tonight, you were all I could think about. Not that anything’s changed, but—“ He lazily slips the strap down, letting it fall to the side as his finger traces a line up your arm; to the curve of your shoulder. “I just couldn’t believe that I was finally seeing you again.”

“Lix.” The way you breathily release his name from your lips tells him everything he needs to know. You’ve missed him too, you’ve really, really missed him, too. And of course he feels the same way you do— absolutely. If it wasn’t for shit falling into place at the wrong time, Felix was sure that he’d still be loving you the way he was before.

No question.

Nothing has changed. The love he’s had for you will always mean more to him than anything in this world.

Felix still feels like love, adoration, fun.

Sweetness.

And if you let him, he would also feel like sadness, anger, hurt.

Pain.

Because Felix is love, and everything that love entails.

“Missed everything about you.” He says, planting a feathery kiss on your shoulders. “Missed the way you laugh.” Another kiss on your shoulder. “The way you smile.” Another near the base of your neck. “Just you.” He says near your ear, reading your expression. You bite onto your bottom lip and finally turn to face him, his hand coming back up to rest on your cheek. “Always been you, love.” His thumb is caressing the surface, giving you leverage to plant a kiss on the palm of his hand.

“Always been.” You mutter back, allowing Felix to fully take you—all of you— in this moment.

Sooner or later, your dress is on the floor while you continue to keep your lips pressed against Felix’s in the heat of the moment; afraid to break the kiss and create distance. You don’t ever want Felix away from you again, no. You want him close— with you, for you, by you.

Just you.

He takes his time with you, letting his hands roam across every inch of your body while he takes you in and settles in between your thighs; pressing his pink, plump lips across your body like he’s soothing you, making up for the years that you’ve lost.

You’re tangled up in him, but you find that there’s no other place that you’d rather be than here; giving Felix the freedom to love you, love on you, however he chooses to tonight. You trust him to take care of you because he always has, and he always will.

It’s not long before your hands are gripping the sheets, repeatedly calling Felix’s name like a mantra. He praises you as he picks up the pace, pounding relentlessly to show his need for you. His lips graze the surface of your neck, collarbone, chest, whispering sweet nothings into your skin:

Missed everything about you.

So perfect for me, love.

So beautiful, so pretty.

Always been you.

All about you.

He continues, and continues— holding you close to his body while he tries to go slower, deeper; hitting all the right places that you like so much just to hear you, see you, writhe underneath him.

You.

Let me be yours.

“Fuck, Lix. I’m close—“ Is the only thing that you’re able to say as you feel the coil within you threatening to unravel. And he must feel it too with the way that his hips begin to stutter, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he tries to hold on. He feels your walls completely tighten around him, pulsating as your face contorts in pleasure and a silent moan leaves your lips.

“Baby, where do you want me— fuck— I’m—“ Felix barely lets out. You reassure him that he’s okay to let go inside of you, and not a second passes before he’s painting your walls. His forehead falls onto yours just as the both of you come back down from your highs, focusing on regulating your breathing after the intense pleasure that washed over you. “Are you okay, angel? You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks, close to a whisper. He kisses you lightly on the tip of your nose, before he seals one off on your lips. He holds it there for awhile before pulling back, realizing you still have yet to respond to him.

“I’m okay. Not hurt.” He nods.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” Felix takes his time cleaning you up and soothing you, helping you get washed up and ready for bed just before he leaves to do the same.

For a moment, you feel like everything is over. That maybe, that was the closure you needed to finally close off that chapter in your book. That maybe, that was it to Felix and you’d return to being [somewhat] strangers again. It makes you a little scared, a little anxious.

But, it all blows away when Felix comes back, dressed for bed just as he had said. He shuts off your lights and slips into the bed next to you, pulling the sheets up so that you’re comfortable.

“For a second, I didn’t think you were actually going to come back.” He lets out a small, breathy laugh as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you flush to his body.

“What, why not? I’m here to stay, love. Not going anywhere.”

“Even when tomorrow comes?”

“Even when tomorrow comes.” He kisses the back of your head. “Unless, you have other plans already?”

“No. Just you.” He chuckles.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” You snuggle closer to him, allowing his warmth to completely envelope your body. Before you know it, you’ve fallen into a deep sleep in Felix’s arms, and he does too. Even when the morning comes, you still find yourself wrapped around Felix and snuggled against his body, light kisses being pressed against your head when you wiggle in his arms.

It’s funny how life works.

Because this time around, Felix is here, lying beside you; making things feel right, connected. Balanced. You shift in your position to look at him because this time around, you’re staring at the one man who, up until now, still means the entire universe to you.

Then, it’s also funny how life works; when life decides that this is your person, and this is finally the right time.

This time around.

—perm taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk @hanji-cafe

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takaraphoenix · 2 years ago

Text

I hate how much heteronormative storytelling links romance and sexuality together, because I just know that that’s why it took me so many years to figure out that I’m ace.

And yes, I’m specifying heternormative storytelling, because that’s the thing we get force-fed in media pretty much from the day we first get put in front of a screen.

Once we move past the fluffy Disney movie stage of life and enter the teenage years, where sexuality becomes a part of the storytelling to varying degrees of explicitness, we hit the real problem zone. *

(* For this particular issue. The forced romantic narrative in every single children’s movie is its own problem zone when we’re talking about aromanticism.)

A thing I complain about quite frequently is the lack of m/f friendships, the way whenever A Guy and A Gal are friends, the heteronormativity kicks in. Unless they’re both in explicit other (stable! not ‘this ship is meant to be broken up for The Main Romance’) romantic relationships, it’s virtually impossible for the straights to just... keep them friends. There have to be some kind of romantic feelings involved. No other possible reason why A Guy might like A Gal or vice versa. The notion of pure, actual friendship goes over these writers’ heads.

Anyway. To the point of the post. Once The Gal and The Guy realize that they aren’t ~just friends~ but really have romantic feelings for each other and once the will they/won’t they stops and they actually will... More often than not do the writers forget to actually include any romance at all.

I mean, genuinely. Their relationship continues the exact same way it was before they got together. But now they have sex. The only discernible difference between “friendship” and “romance” in pretty much every TV show or movie I grew up on was that they now fucked and kissed.

Very often highlighted even more by the fact that they’re portrayed as so fucking horny, they barely got the confession out before immediately stumbling into the bedroom to get it on. Not a single date. Not even a full conversation wasted there. Just going at it like Noah just herded them onto a big ship.

And if you grow up watching these things during your formative years of what constitutes a relationship and they influence you during your “what the fuck’s going on with my own identity” phase, they paint an incredibly conflated image of romance and sex.

Namely, that romance not only doesn’t work without sex, but even more so also a notion that the only real difference between friendship and romance is sexual intercourse.

So, even if the term “asexual” somehow crossed your path at any point prior to the “what the fuck’s going on with my own identity” phase, that gets immediately dismissed as even vaguely being a possibility if you do experience romantic attraction. **

(** And also if you experience aesthetic attraction, seeing as absolutely nobody and nothing really prepared 90s kids for the difference between aesthetic and sexual attraction. Kids nowadays have more resources more readily available thanks to the internet and I’m genuinely so glad for them.)

Clearly, I can’t be asexual because I find people pretty and finding people pretty means wanting to have sex with them and having sex is the requirement for romance and I do want romance in my life. So, I guess I’m a “late bloomer”?

So. Yeah. My two cents on how heteronormative storytelling has harmed not just homosexual kids figuring themselves out but also asexual kids, because of the ways in which heterosexual relationships have been and still are being framed in media.

#Asexuality #Ace Stuff #Aspec Stuff

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auras-moonstone · 1 year ago

Note

i’m so happy to hear you’re taking jack requests!! there’s a serious drought of them on tumblr 😭

could we get jack x fem!reader with him sleeping over at her place for the first time (or vice versa)? nothing smutty ofc (only if you want to but i see this concept as more fluffy than anything lol). i just think he’d be so cute and shy and awkward 😭 like turning away so she can change, not knowing wether to sleep on the bed or the floor, doing skincare together, cuddling-

i need this man as my bf rn

thank u!!

hi!! this concept is so cute, thank you for requesting it! hope you enjoy it <3 and yeah, i need this man to be my bf too. he’s the definition of boyfriend material.

is it too soon? — jack champion

words: 1,380

pairing: jack champion x fem!reader

summary: y/n invites jack to her house for dinner and a sleepover. when sleeping time comes, the nerves take over his body.

Y/N AND JACK HAVE BEEN DATING FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS. They met on the set of Scream 6, when Y/N was visiting her best friend, Devyn, and Jack is never going to forget the first words she said to him.

“Oh my god! You are the bicycle boy from Endgame” she had smiled at him, and Jack knew he was a goner. They had exchanged instagrams, and talked almost every single day—Devyn even joked about how Y/N texted him more than she texted her. They went on their first date almost a two weeks after they met, and it was on their third date—two weeks after the first one—when Y/N asked him to be her boyfriend.

Due to his long hours of filming and her being busy with college essays and exams, they couldn’t manage to spend so much time alone—only going on short dates every now and then, and lots of facetiming between shooting and study breaks. But now that the movie was done, they wanted to spend every moment together. For this occasion, Y/N had invited him over to her house for dinner and a sleep over.

They had just finished doing the dishes, he had her against the counter, hugging her tightly and placing sweet kisses on her lips, when an idea came to her mind “Wanna do skin care with me?” she asked giving him those puppy eyes he adored, and how could he say no? So he let her guide him to the bathroom.

“So, what do I have to do?” he asked eying all the products on the counter.

She grabbed two pink plush headbands with big bows in the middle and handed one to him. “Put this on, so your hair doesn’t touch the products” she instructed. He nodded and put it on, making her smile at the sight “You are the most adorable human I’ve ever seen”.

He blushed and kissed her cheek as she also put the headband on “Pretty girl”.

“Thank you, babe. Have you ever done skin care?”

“Nope”

“Really? Not even moisturiser or cleanser?” she asked shocked.

“Babe, I don’t know what you are saying” he laughed.

“I’m sorry, that’s unfair! I take care of my skin and it’s nowhere near as good as yours… and you don’t do skin care!” Y/N’s hands moves frenetically as she ranted on.

He looked at her with a lovey smile before leaning down to kiss her “Your skin is perfect and so are you”.

“Mmh stop distracting me” she said in between kisses. “Okay, less romance, more skin care”.

“It’s cold!” Jack said loudly as she applied serum on his face.

“Don’t be dramatic” she laughed. “Now spread it all over your face carefully”.

“This is relaxing” he said closing his eyes. “but you do this every day?”.

“Yup” she answered “Now the last part: the exfoliant!”.

“Holy shit my skin feels so soft” Jack said once they finished the routine.

“Let me check” she said before pressing kisses all over his face “Yeah, very soft”.

“Let me check yours in return” he said with a smirk, repeating the same action she did, making her giggle.

“This was fun, but I’m exhausted. Let’s go to sleep” she took his hand and guided him upstairs.

It was when he set foot on her bedroom that the nerves kicked in. He had been at her house, of course, but never slept over. Y/N had classes in the morning, and he had to go to the set, so they preferred to sleep in their own houses.

He stood there, looking at the bed. Was he supposed to sleep there or should he sleep on the floor? Should he ask her? Would she think he was crossing the line by even thinking they were to sleep on the same bed?

“Jack? Are you okay?” she asked, she had a pair of joggers in her hands.

“Y-yeah” he showed her his best smile.

“Okay… here you go. You lent me this a couple of days ago”

“Thanks” he grabbed them awkwardly.

“I have to change into my pjs, do you mind if I change here?” Y/N asked. She had a bathroom, but honestly she felt too lazy to go downstairs.

“H-here?” Jack asked, his cheeks painted a crimson red.

Y/N mentally cursed herself “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable… I can go downstairs, it’s okay”.

“No, no! I’ll just turn around and you tell me when you’re done” he answered. “I’ll change into my joggers” She nodded, and he turned to face the door as they both changed “Done”.

After a few seconds her voice was heard “Me too” he turned around to face her, and his thoughts went to the bed and where he was going to sleep.

“Do you have some extra blankets or a sleeping bag?” he asked.

Y/N furrowed her brows, and then her face fell. Were they going too fast? Y/N never thought sleeping over would be such a big deal, but guess she was wrong. Was he uncomfortable around her? Did he think she was implying they should do more than sleeping? Because maybe he read the whole thing wrong and that’s why he was acting weird. “Yeah, in my closet”.

Jack felt bad, he noticed instantly because of her expression that he had hurt her a bit. So, before she could enter the closet, he grabbed her hand softly “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you”.

“It’s okay, Jack. I’m overreacting, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to sleep in the same bed yet. I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t saying that we should do more than sleeping. Sorry if I made it seem like that, you know, with the whole changing in front of you and the sleeping on the same bed thing”.

“What? No! That’s not what you made me think at all. Of course I don’t mind sleeping next to you. It’s just… you are my first girlfriend and I lo-“ he stopped himself. Did he almost let the l-word slip? “and I started overthinking, that maybe you wouldn’t be comfortable with me sleeping on your bed, that I was overstepping and I don’t want to ruin anything, especially with you”.

Y/N sighed in relief “Okay. That’s a relief. You are my first boyfriend too, so don’t feel bad for overthinking. I do that a lot too, to be completely honest”.

Jack smiled at her, and put his arms around the back of her neck, making her look up at him with those long eyelashes and hypnotising eyes he loved so much “Now that everything is solved, let’s go to sleep”.

The couple got inside the bed, he quickly pulled her to his chest. Y/N closed her eyes and relaxed, between his heartbeats resonating in her ears and the warmth that his body provided, she almost fell asleep. Until she remembered. She had noticed when he almost said the word, and how quickly he corrected himself. She was not going to let that sign pass, so she took the matters into her own hands.

“Jack?” she said against his chest, checking if he was sleeping.

“Yes, babe?” he asked in a delicate voice.

“I want to tell you something” she said looking up. He nodded, signalling her to continue “I… maybe it’s too soon to say it, but every moment I spend with you just fuels the feeling more and more, to the point that I can barely stop myself from saying it. It’s okay if you aren’t ready yet, but I want you to know that I love you, Jack”.

Silence embraced the room. It took Jack a few, way too long, seconds to realize it wasn’t some trick made by his imagination. The girl he loved just told him she loved him too. And he was just staring at her, but she wasn’t panicking. That’s because she recognized the glint in his eyes—Y/N understood he wasn’t shocked in a bad way, in fact, it was quite the opposite. It was at that moment that she knew he was in love too.

“I love you too, Y/N/N” he finally said. His face reflected nothing but happiness. And their confession was sealed with a passionate kiss that showcased everything they once were too scared to say.

#jack champion #jack champion x y/n #jack champion fluff #jack champion imagine #jack champion oneshot #jack champion x reader #ethan landry #scream iv #scream #fluff #fanfic

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casinocarpediem · 11 months ago

Note

MOREEEEE BEN REILLY 🙏🙏🙏 IM BEGGING

▪︎■☆Benny, Baby☆■▪︎

☆ 🔞!!NOT SAFE FOR WORK UNDER THE CUT!!🔞

☆ cis!Ben Reilly / spiderhero!male reader

☆ Drabble and probably OOC

☆ angst and fluff headcanons first

☆ kind of cringe? Maybe? Maybe not? Depends on who's reading it

°○☆happy reading☆○°

☆ his morning voice is so deep but not in a sexy way its more like a funny way. Maybe not overly goofy but he's so loopy since he's still a little sleepy he will make you laugh a little with his voice.

☆ seldomly clumsy. He'll walk through corridors and move his hips to avoid hitting tables and when he miscalculates a move he'll wince in pain, but if you're there he'll try to pretend nothing ever happened.

☆ He's clingy. Like, puppy clingy. He'll never admit it but the next best thing other than working out is holding you. It could be in any kind of context. A fluffy moment, a sad scenario, or something a little more intimate. But don't expect him to get his grabby hands off of your body 24/7 because he just loves to hold you and be there for you.

☆ look at me in the eye and tell me he isn't dramatic. ATSV Scarlet spider here, imagine watching Grave of the Fireflies with this guy. Get your tissues.

☆ His hair is so silky. I'm sure he maintains it well. He's willing to share his own secrets to you so that the two of you are walking around with hair everybody wishes they had. haha.

☆ He's a little bit of a jealous person. Not in a toxic way, per se. But he's a little insecure whenever you spend time laughing and talking with the other spidermen. Usually the Peter's. Ben knows he's a clone. He thinks he's just a copy. He hopes you don't leave him for something more "original".

☆ continuation of the hc above me, he'll try holding your hand whenever you're talking to somebody. Not all the time. Just when he feels uneasy. Just a little reminder to you that he's there. Please don't go.

☆ bad nights aren't common between you two but he'll let his laid back facade fade away and he'll lean on you for comfort. You're his strength. His beacon of light. In a world quite cruel he knows he can rest on your shoulder and recharge his energy just being around you

☆ he loves to work out with you. Definitely. He's your best gym buddy and you'll end up exerting more effort into your routine because of how fun and challenging it is with Ben. He might forget a few basic equipment... so be prepared

☆ I just really like to think that he's a clingy puppy when you two are alone, and small remnants of that desperation for your attention clinging in the air. Hugs and cuddles, thumbs-up. Hand holding and a few kisses, thumbs up. Brushing his face against your chest or vice versa whenever you to get to bed, oh absolutely.

☆ I don't know if he'd be a PDA person, but he definitely would be. He likes showing how much he loves you. Like, every part of you. Your hands, your smile, you're voice, everything. It's like a warm presence that has him forgetting about all of the shit that made him edgy /hj. He'd hold your hand on your arm or your shoulder or whatever. He likes touching you

☆ call him petnames. Any kind as long as if it's a petname. And as long as if it's made by you. That takes the cake. His personal favorite is "Benny baby" because 1, it's adorable, 2, it's catchy.

°○☆ nsfw under the cut ☆○°

☆ He's sloppy. Literally about everything. When you'll kiss him or if he'll kiss you it doesn't matter who takes initiative, he won't hesitate to use his tongue. Sucking your tongue to get a better taste of it. Or kissing your cheek so much it becomes wet in a few minutes. He'll drool like a dog no matter what he does. He'd be ashamed of it at first but when you'll reassure him that it's normal and everybody has their own quirks during sex he won't try to struggle and hide it.

☆ pull his hair. He'd adorably whine and complain. He'd tell you to stop but he doesn't want you to stop. The first time you tried it he was feeling conflicted but he definitely didn't try to stop you the next time around.

☆ he'll probably try to cover his face whenever you fuck him. He's so shy all of the sudden... so when you web/cuff his hands above his head, leaving him powerless to cover his face he pretty much just cums sooner.

☆ if you're somewhere else and he's somewhere private, he'll send you a picture of his abs. Pretty normal. That is until he'll send you even more provocative pictures. That's when you snap and try to finish the errand to get home as soon as possible and fuck him till he goes blind.

☆ PET PLAY‼️‼️‼️ Please please PLEASE treat this man like a horny little mutt. He'll go crazy when you call him puppy or bitch or literally whatever. He's a golden retriever isn't he? Oh he'll melt. Get him a leash too. A pretty collar with your name on it. He'd hide it well away from guests but when you two are alone... he has his fun.

☆ remember what I said about pet play? Oh boy, take it to the next level and he'll go nuts. Literally. Strap him tight on a pet crawler and treat him like a legitimate dog. You probably wouldn't need to touch him for him to cum anymore at that point. Drowning in humiliation to the point where all he could do is whimper for your touch, a command, a word literally anything.

☆ he likes to be degraded. Call him a stupid mutt and tease him about his "rut". How badly he wants to breed/be bred. He'll let out a series of whines and please unless you gag your little puppy. Perhaps if you don't gag him, you can make him woof a little. It's embarrassing. Humiliating but Ben's already past point of clarified thinking.

☆ that doesn't me he isn't a fan of praise! Call him a sweetheart. Your loving little puppy. A good boy. Brush your fingers against his hair and scratch his scalp just right. He'll cum right then and there. Dick frotting against your leg. That is, if you gave him permission. If you spoil him and let him suck your dick while you praise him he'll get drunk. So unbelievably drunk, you'll end up doing most of the work again.

☆ rarely ever a bad boy. He'll follow your orders. And if he's being a brat... well, taming him isn't hard.

☆ if you're going to be bottoming he'll be really soft with it. He'll only go hard if you tell him to. He'll do everything you tell him to do. Go soft? He'll go soft. Move faster? He'll rut inside of you while he sobs out how good you feel around him.

☆ oh my god this man's cum. He definitely cums a lot. Ugagahahh like,,, BROOOOO. Istg. It drops down his dick like thick droplets of pearls and its so filling. Goddamn, doesn't matter if you dom or he does its so much. Please milk him.

☆ oh he has a happy trail. Fuzzy, dirty blonde, well kept ish. He doesn't like to shave it because when it grows back it just gets itchy.

☆ He's a biter. Doesn't matter who's on top. Expect love bites everywhere, anywhere. It feels right to him. In a possessive way. He's yours, your his. Actually, try marking him too. It's hotter that way.

187 notes · View notes

daengtokki · 1 year ago

Note

Hey 👋🏻 saw your recent post about wanting to write about seungmin fluff, and I honestly could use some fluff to feel better myself so I wanted to suggest a noona!reader x seungmin fluff where they both like each other (are close friends) but reader thinks they only see her as a sister and not romantically (and vice versa) until the other members convince seungmin to confess and well the rest is up to you really :) personally I feel that he’s the type to sing to their crush or maybe bring them a cute plushie, inviting them on a coffee date, etc

Whether or not you choose to write this, I hope you feel better~ ❤️‍🩹

𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹

©ˢᶜᵃʳˡᵉᵗᵇˡᵒˢˢᵒᵐ

────────────────────✦

Kim Seungmin/noona!reader

wc: ~5k

rating: flufffff -`♡´- (friends to lovers/idiots to lovers ( thank you @wulfgaang ) Felix and IN plotting, music for you to listen to while you read)

comments: I'm sorry this took so long anon! I started writing and just kept on writing and I couldn't stop so I eventually had to force myself to stop. I tried to edit a little but uuuhhh bshxbhscs

──────────────♡───♡─✦

He's so bad at writing a text to you that doesn't sound...off. He hates sounding too casual, which is exactly how he should be sounding, and how you expect him to sound. But he hates it. He huffs and slides down into the couch, eyes flit up every so often to the open space in front of him.

Seungmin catches sight of himself in the mirror across the room, then he sees Felix eyeballing him. And then Felix smiles.

"What?" He pulls himself up and folds his knees to his chest, looks down at the message thread on his screen...rereads your last text.

I like your hair the shade it is right now

It's nothing. It's a benign little observation on your part, but his stomach swirled the moment he read it. Now he can't think of what to say back. His thumbs freeze right above the screen, and his eyes go blurry as he stares.

Seungmin doesn't have time to reply, though, because he sees you typing again. The little dots bounce around for what seems like forever, and then they stop. Felix moves closer and sits down next to him. Then you're typing again. Typing and typing...

"Are you talking to your noona?" he whispers and tries to peek at his phone, but Seungmin pulls away.

"She's not my noona."

"Well, she never texts me. What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing..."

"Exactly! You two always seem to talk about nothing...every day."

Finally, a message comes through. And it's not nearly as long as the length of time it took to type.

are you free for lunch today? Probably not, but I'm cold and want to get some yukgaejang

No, he's not exactly free, but he's going to make himself free. Seungmin hasn't had the chance to see you face to face for almost a month. Yes, almost a month. Three weeks and three days, actually. And you were only in the building for a few hours that day, because you travel too much for work. Seungmin hates that. And he hates wishing you had a position that didn't travel at all. It's always in the opposite direction that he's going.

"I'm breaking our lunch plans." Seungmin says it so flatly and definitively.

"Fine. Only because I know you're making plans with her. Maybe ask her out properly this time, before she leaves again."

"I'm not going to ask her anything... she'll laugh at me."

Felix has no reply for that, but the stinkface he gives Seungmin says everything for him.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You stare at yourself in the mirror for far too long. The way you think you look won't change, and the way you're dressed isn't going to magically make him fall in love with you. Besides, it's cold out, and he'll pick on you if you dress more for looks than warmth.

His text message comes through, finally. You feel bad asking him, because you know he's busy, but he loves to eat and it always seems to be the best way to get him alone.

I just have to change, I'll be ready when you get here

And it's stupid, but you like driving him around; the way he plays with the music, and the way he sits back in the passenger seat and stares right at you. He always let's you know when you pass a dog going on a walk, and he loves to tell you that you drive too fast. Or too slow.

There was hardly any traffic on the way in, so you sit and stare at your phone for several minutes before texting again. You're certain he's ready—it doesn't take long to throw on a pair of sweatpants and run out the door, but getting here too fast and seeming too eager makes you feel silly. You rub at your warm cheeks and sigh, wondering if you're mentally prepared to see him again, need to kiss him, do nothing, say nothing, and then part ways for another few weeks.

A soft knock on the window makes you jump, and when you look to your right, he's there, smiling and waving.

"Sorry, I was just about to text."

Seungmin climbs in and stares at you for a moment. "I saw you pull up, are you okay?"

"I'm okay..."

"You looked worried."

He's too observant. and he's clever as hell (sometimes). You're surprised he hasn't figured you out yet, but...he's probably just avoiding it if he does know. He doesn't want you to feel awkward. Seungmin is too young for you, you think. You have no business feeling this way about someone a decade your junior, and he's not going to be interested when he's surrounded by so many pretty girls his age.

"You still look worried." He buckles his seatbelt and adjusts himself so he can look directly at you.

"Uh...just jetlag probably. And I haven't eaten yet."

"We better hurry then."

You look him over quickly as you shift gears and check the gps on your screen. He's not in his usual overly comfortable sweats, instead he's wearing cargo pants, and just a t-shirt under his North Face jacket. You hope he's warm enough, but when he reaches forward and bumps up the heat, you know he probably isn't.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"It's gonna be too spicy," he smiles and watches you take a bite. A cautious bite, because he's right, but you won't admit it. You like the spice, and he likes watching your face turn red as you slowly make your way through the bowl.

His chopsticks dive into it and grab a much bigger bite than yours.

"Get your own," you shoo him away and sip your tea, trying not to be too obvious that your whole body is on fire. With the spice, and with thoughts of him. His lips are red and swollen from the little bit of heat in his food, from the heel of his hand rubbing at them. This is about the time when your thoughts get overwhelming...so overwhelming, you think you could confess everything all in one breath—his big dewy eyes, flushed cheeks (both from the food, of course), big t-shirt hanging way too precariously from his shoulder.

"Too spicy," he chases it with his rice and scrunches up his face, "How can you eat so much of it?"

"Punishment."

"Punishment??" Seungmin looks at the text on his phone. It's not Felix this time. Felix has already sent several, asking him if he's made it official yet. This time it's Jeongin, no doubt out to lunch with him, acting up as well.

did you dress nice for her?

"Why would you need to be punished?" Seungmin blushes as soon as the words come out of his mouth. It's not just the soup making him so warm. He glances up at you and tries not to smile too awkwardly.

"Where should I begin...being lazy, breaking plans with friends, ghosting bad dates instead of telling them I'm not interested."

"Do you go on a lot of bad dates?" He sits up and clears his throat, "I mean...dates. You never mentioned that before."

His phones buzzes again. This time it's Felix.

simp

A quick glance around the restaurant reveals he and Jeongin are not actually there and listening in on them, but he wouldn't be surprised.

"I wouldn't say a lot. Uh...I'm always very careful, don't worry."

Seungmin nods and struggles to keep his face neutral. He's not concerned, he's jealous. "You're not lazy, you work very hard."

"Just too much. Sometimes I want to change jobs, stay home more. Use my apartment."

"You should," he replies so fast that you stop eating and look at him.

"I should?"

"If that's what you want, uhm...you should always do what feels right." He busies his mouth with his drink, taking slow sips and peeking at you over the rim. "I'm glad we work at the same company, though, otherwise I would have never met you." He wonders if that was too much, so he stares stupidly at the chopsticks in his hand.

"No, we probably wouldn't have met. And you're a—"

He looks up at you before you finish.

"Uh..." you should say it, you should say anything as long as it's a little bit romantic. There are so many things you've thought of already, and you have said them in your head...during your endless daydreams. When you're trying to sleep and can't, or when you open your eyes in the morning and pretend he's there in front of you, sleeping soundly.

"...you're a good friend, Seungmin."

Idiot.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Another outing with Seungmin, and another tick on your failure box. You felt awkward, and you probably made him feel awkward. You can’t relax around him anymore. Maybe he does really know that you like him, and he just doesn't want to ghost you the way you ghost your dates. He's too good and sweet to do that, and he's too good for you.

A little part of you wants to text one of the others; one of his dormmates, his closest friends, just to see if asking him out would be a horrible mistake. But you can't. If the answer yes, it's a mistake, and then they tell him? They would absolutely tell him. You might as well mess this up on your own.

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

"That's what you wore?" Jeongin looks at him, eyes narrow, lips pursed.

He and Felix make it home first, and they both look at him anxiously when he walks through the door. Well, Jeongin looks at him anxiously, and then tsks at the casualness of his outfit.

"It's less casual than normal."

"It's not going to convince her that you'll go all out for her, though. You gotta give her your best!"

"I don't think my outfit is going to make her suddenly fall in love with me."

"No, but if you tell her how you feel..."

"I'm not ruining what little friendship we have."

"But—"

"No."

"Kim Seungmin!" Felix yells. "If you don't talk to her like a big boy, I'll be forced to tell her myself."

"You wouldn't...please don't say anything, Yongbok. Please..."

"She likes you...maybe even more than you like her."

"How would you even know that, has she told you herself?" Seungmin finally pulls his jacket off, kicks off his shoes, and sulks to the kitchen for a drink.

"No, but I've had to sit through more than one meal with you two... dancing around each other, blushing if you end up sitting shoulder to shoulder, her sneaking little glances when you're not looking."

"She does?" he sips his milk in an attempt to get the lingering spice out of his mouth. "She looks at me?"

"Stares at you. Watches every little move you make. It's annoying, and very cute. I wish someone would look at me like that.”

"Sing her a song!" Jeongin pipes up from behind his monitor. "Invite her to dance practice, keep her around after everyone leaves...sing for her."

"That is..." Felix thinks. Seungmin rolls his eyes and groans loudly in the background. "...very cheesy, but I don't think it's a terrible idea."

"Sunday! I'll even invite her to come watch, you just have to do the rest." Jeongin is very proud of himself for thinking all of this up. "I know her, too...remember? I'll make sure she's in town, and you figure out what song you want to woo her with.”

Seungmin hates the idea. He’s already starting to get nervous eating in front of her. Now he has to practice? And sing? Sing something romantic? The logistics of all of this are escaping him, too. How will they be left alone there? If someone sees them—him singing, her standing awkwardly until he finishes. He already wants to climb into a hole just thinking about it.

“Close to You!” Jeongin cups his cheeks in his hands and smiles. “She blooms beautifully in your dreams, when you close your eyeesss,” he sways back and forth.

“No, no I’m not doing it. And you can’t make me.”

“We can’t, but we can still invite her to come on Sunday. Tell her we have some new stuff to work on, she’ll enjoy it.”

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

You can’t say no to Jeongin, ever. He was so excited to invite you to dance practice, and you’ll actually be home, so…why not. No pressure. It’s getting to see Seungmin from a distance, or maybe not from a distance. And you love watching them act up together. Seungmin invited you once, a while ago, but you couldn’t make it, and for some reason he never asked again.

But seeing him twice in the same week is a nice treat. You just hope he’s glad to see you there.

Han sees you and greets you first. Then you see Changbin and Felix by a snack table, bickering about something. Felix sees you out of the corner of his eye, waves, and smirks a little. He mouths something to you, and you think he says you look nice…so you just smile back. You did put in some extra effort this morning, but you still tried to be casual. Seungmin likes casual, and he told you once, a long time ago, that he liked your style.

One of the entranceways seem like the perfect place to observe for now. Nobody is here, and you’re a little nervous about being in anyone’s way. You lean back against the wall, making yourself as small as possible, and look for Jeongin. But he’s nowhere.

Seungmin, though, is within view. His back is to you, and he’s way on the other side of the room, but you know it’s him—you would know his back and shoulders just by touch if it came to that. And you really wish it would come to that. The rest of him is swimming in a pair of dark gray sweatpants.

You hold your breath and wait for him to turn.

“Noona! Hi hi.” You jump out of your skin. It’s Jeongin.

“Innie!” You punch his shoulder, and he laughs. “Quit sneaking.”

“I wasn’t sneaking, you were just too busy staring.” He looks to Seungmin, who is now turned your way. And walking in your direction.

“Staring at what?,” you say as you continue to stare. He gets closer and closer. You can feel the distance closing between you. It’s getting warmer in the room.

“So it is true…Felix is right.”

“Huh? What is Felix right about?”

"Is Innie bothering you?" Seungmin says. He doesn’t look at you, though, just at Jeongin.

“Hmmm…I think I’m being called.”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Seungmin looks behind him, behind you, and then back to Jeongin. “Better go, though.”

He looks irritated when you’re finally able to lift your gaze, but not really irritated—just like he’s holding back an eye roll. Seungmin folds his arms and hugs his hoodie to his chest, and then he finally…finally, looks at you. His face softens. You could melt, but you try to keep your composure.

This wasn’t always an issue. Seungmin always makes you feel warm and stupid when he’s around, and he has since the day you met him, but it used to be easier to be relaxed around him. And fun. You figured this would pass and you’d realize you were just crushing on him; lusting after him—daydreaming about kissing him and his braces, undressing him slowly in your mind and wondering exactly what he looked like under all of those clothes. But it never passed. It grew and grew into this monster that sits on your chest and takes your breath away.

“YN?” He crouches down so he can get your attention. “Noona?” He whispers. Seungmin doesn’t usually call you Noona, not like everyone else does. He calls you by your name, because you asked him to. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t like that…just needed to snap you out of your daydream.”

“I wasn’t…hmm, I’m sorry. Hi Seungmin.”

“Hi,” his face falls a little. “Are you staying, or just passing through?”

“I’m staying.“

“Good. It’s chilly in here, I thought you might want this.” He hugs his hoodie closer to his chest and smiles. "Gotta keep the heat down so we don’t pass out, I guess.”

“Will you be mad if I take it home and forget to give it back?”

His giggle makes your head swim. “No, not at all. Actually…”

Before he can finish, Chan calls out and the floor starts to clear. He looks back, and then to you again. “Hold that thought,” he unrolls it, shakes it, and throws it around you like a cape before running off.

The scent of him overwhelms you, and your head is swimming again. Everything is swimming. Now you just want to curl up in your bed with it and fall asleep.

For the first time in years, Seungmin is nervous standing on the dance floor. He knows he’ll be fine—everything will fall into place once things get started. But if what Felix said is true, your eyes are on him, and only him. All the time. But you must be good at doing it only when Seungmin isn't looking. He has never once caught you staring.

He glances around the room, swings his arms, rolls his shoulders. You’re there in the same spot, his hoodie still draped around you. And yes, you’re watching him.

The time goes by fast, even though you’re just a spectator, and you know it’s because you might not see him again for a while once this ends. You’ll go back to your casual texts, hopefully a little each day. You’d lose your mind if you had to go longer than that without hearing from him.

The more you think about it, the more you think getting the confession over with might be the best idea. You can’t exactly go on like this forever. The rejection will crush you, but with time, you’ll have to move on. That’s just what happens. The hurt goes away, eventually.

“Hey you,” Felix pops up next you and gets your attention. “You’re staring really hard. Really really hard.”

“What?” You finally pull yourself away from Seungmin, “I was? Wait…what?”

“Seungmin is going to have a hole burnt into him if you keep that up.”

You feel flushed, even though Seungmin was right about the cold, “please tell me only you saw me.”

“Probably, everyone else seems pretty preoccupied. But be careful. Unless you plan on confessing.”

Is Felix reading your mind? You bury your face in your hand and sigh.

“Don’t look so sad. Keep looking…carefully.”

You’re an idiot. And you daydream too much. Your life is nothing but work, sleep, and a constant string of thoughts about being with him.

“Felix?” You stop him just as he starts to walk away. He smiles at you, There is usually a twinkle in his eye, but it’s even more intense right now.

“Yes, noona?”

Seungmin turns and makes eye contact, but looks away almost immediately.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Oh hey, don’t leave too early. Innie and I have something we need to give to you after we finish up.”

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Everyone left. But you’re sitting on the couch, curled up in a ball, warm under Seungmin’s hoodie. Felix said stay, so you’re staying, but you don’t know what he and Jeongin could possibly have for you.

You wonder if Seungmin will come back for his hoodie. Watching him walk out of the room was a little bit heartbreaking, because he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t wave. He didn’t look your way.

“What am I supposed to do now? You have her waiting in there, alone, and she doesn’t know wh”

“Felix told her we had something for her, and we do.” Jeongin holds his arms up to Seungmin, palms up, like he’s presenting him. “It’s you.”

Seungmin buries his face in his hands and groans, “you still want me to go in there and sing and embarrass myself?”

“You don’t have to sing!”

“Okay, so just embarrass myself.”

Felix shakes his head, “please please pleeaaase, trust me. I’m going to scream at the top of my lungs if you don’t go sit on that couch with her right now. That’s all. Just sit there. Whatever happens after that is up to the two of you.”

“Fine. Just because I don’t want her sitting in there by herself.

The door clicks. You know it’s him as soon as his arm swings the door open.

“Seungmin?”

“Hi. What are you doing in here all alone?”

“Waiting…”

“Waiting for what?” He stands in front of you, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. Light gray this time—he’s showered and changed since you’ve been sitting here.

“I’m not sure.”

“Me, maybe. I’m sorry I left before without saying anything.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. He’s here now, so it is okay.

Seungmin sits down next to you. He’s quiet, and he has no idea what to say now. Maybe he should just sing, because he would at least be able to succesfully string some words together. The silence and the echo here makes it even harder to speak, but at least he knows you’re truly alone together. This usually only happens in your car—windows up, music playing. “What’s your favorite song?”

“My favorite…Stray Kids song, or my favorite favorite?”

“Favorite favorite.”

You weren’t prepared for this, but you don’t have to think very hard. “In Your Eyes…” you look at him, wait, wonder why he wants to know, “by Peter Gabriel.” You played it in the car with him before, and it took a lot to keep from telling him everything right then and there as it played. But you didn’t. It played, uninterrupted, and both of you were silent the entire five and a half minutes.

“I remember that song.”

“You do?”

Seungmin nods and laughs, “it’s on half of your playlists. Yeah, I know it.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Silence again. Seungmin is 100% winging this, but he does know where he’s going with it. Because he does want to sing for you.

“So I can practice it.”

You shift and look at him, his hoodie slips off of your shoulders and onto the couch. It takes several seconds of thinking, of gears starting to turn in your brain, and of your eyes jumping back and forth between his before you start to put a few pieces together.

“…and sing it for you,” Seungmin looks down at his fidgeting hands, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. You not replying immediately is stretching out like hours. How can he make this less awkward now? He can sing for you and not make it romantic, right? Just a nice gesture between good friends. Not that song, though. He wasn’t even sure you would choose a romantic song.

No, he’s in it and he’s not getting back out. “Please say something.”

“You wanna…sing for me?”

“I’m not very good at…talking about my feelings otherwise.”

“You can talk to me. You can talk to me about anything."

Seungmin leans forward and rubs at his face, and he buries it there in his hands. It’s a bad time to start losing his nerve, he’s too far in. “I can’t.” He feels the couch shift as you get closer, just close enough that your knee hits his. “It’s a lot.”

“It is a lot. I know.”

“You do?”

You want to grab him and make him look at you, but your body won’t allow it. It takes another long silence to finally get some of his attention. His cheeks are red, and his eyes are big and nervous.

“Yeah, too much to keep carrying around by myself.”

He doesn’t seem to be following you, because he still looks worried, upset. But you’re not helping—you weren’t ready for this, and you have no idea what to say. You’re bad at this kind of talk, too.

“Am I making you uncomfortable? And I messing everything up?”

“No, Minnie…I’m very comfortable sitting here with you right now. I could sit here with you all night.”

Now, finally, he turns and gives you his full attention, red faced and serious. His bottom lip is catching up, because he won’t stop biting down on it. You reach out and poke his chin, “don’t do that.”

He licks his lips and forces himself to stop, but now he’s not talking again. There’s eye contact, at least. And it’s intense…Seungmin doesn’t know how intense his stare can be. Maybe you’re supposed to finish this—he did start, and it was a pretty bold start.

“We should—”

A clatter outside makes both of you jump. Maybe you’re not as alone as you think, and in that case, you’re a little bit uncomfortable. It makes you feel better about what you were about to say.

“…we should go somewhere else to talk.”

♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

It took no convincing for him to follow you closely on the walk outside. Silent. And inside the car, cold and dark, still silence. You could talk here—you’ve shared a lot in this car already, but it doesn’t feel right. You just want to take him home, get him warm, make him comfortable.

Seungmin is nervous. You know exactly what he was trying to tell you back there on the couch, but what you don’t know is how intensely he really feels, and if he’s willing to act on it the way that you are. You don’t want to risk scaring him away, but your desire for him has already reached its boiling point. Every minute without acting on it now is killing you.

He’s huddled down deep in his coat. You finally let out a sigh of relief when he leans forward to adjust the radio, and then he turns up the heat.

“Where are we going?” His voice is small and timid, not like him at all. It’s like his little bit of confession, the emotional exertion of finally telling you he maybe wants more, kicked his ass.

“My apartment.”

“I’ve never been to your apartment before.”

“Is that okay?

He sits up, and you can see him look at you out of the corner of your eye. “Yeah, of course.”

It’s already warm inside. The few lights you keep on while you’re out gives the small space a comfortable glow. It’s even better with a view of him shaking out of his coat, and carefully taking off his shoes. The apartment almost feels—

“…it’s cozy in here.” He says. You watch him walk further in, just a few steps, and look around. “And quiet, and warm.” The smile on his face is reserved, “just like you.”

“Like me?”

He nods, and his smile grows a little more. “Yes, you’re quiet, usually. And you’re always warm. And I’m sure you’re very cozy, too.”

“That sounds more like you.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been called warm…but—”

“I guess you’re only like that with me.”

You can tell he’s relaxing. He laughs, smiles fully, pushes his hair away from his eyes. More importantly, he walks further into your apartment, looks around again, and then sits on the couch.

“Do you want some tea? You’re probably starving. I can order something, there are a few places close by that are fast.”

“Yes, and yes…but there’s no hurry…uhm, let’s have some tea.”

“It’s probably too hot, be careful.” You finally sit down next to him. Close. Closer than you were earlier, and definitely closer than you’ve ever been out to dinner, or lunch, or anywhere.

Seungmin turns toward you. His face is right there, inches from yours. His eyes and his lips, his breath. His eyes are moving between yours and jumping everywhere, like he’s taking all of you in from this distance. Part of you wants to back up, because you haven’t seen in a mirror in hours. But you can’t. He’s a magnet. You think (hope) he wants you to keep pushing forward, and that’s exactly what you do.

It’s as satisfying as you knew it would be. He’s as soft as you imagined, and as sweet. It’s a shy kiss on his part, but you kind of expected that, as well. You like it like that, because he’s taking his time. But you also need a little more, so you take over.

Your hand slides across his neck. He lets you pull him closer, and he doesn’t shy away when you open up and bite down gently on his lower lip. A soft sound escapes him and floats right down your throat, and it makes your knees shake against his.

A knock on the door interrupts right as you feel his hand graze your leg. Seungmin lets go and pulls back, just enough to open his eyes and look at you. “Thank you for getting me dinner,” he says, and he leans into you again until your lips touch.

“…Seungmin.”

“Hm?”

You don’t even know what you were going to say—if you were going to say anything at all. It just feels good saying his name out loud.

“Mm…nothing.”

“Was that okay? The kiss, I mean. I know my braces probably get in the way.”

“No, they don’t…not at all. It was very okay.”

He kisses you again, this time with more confidence. You can feel his smile grow when you grab his arm and pull it around you. And you can feel his braces brush against your lips. He notices, and jumps back.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ve waited a long time for this.” You pull him back, and set your lips on his cheek.

“How long?”

“Oh…lemme think,” you pretend to think for a moment, but you don’t need to. You remember exactly when you first saw him and wanted to kiss him. “It was October, last year.”

“That long? Why didn’t I know? It feels like everyone else knew.”

“Nobody else knew. I never told anyone, I thought it was silly, maybe a little inappropriate. You just turned twenty when we met.” You pull away now, and sigh as you fall back into the couch. It sounds even worse when you hear it out loud.

“I don’t think it’s silly. I’m old enough to know what I want.” Seungmin grabs your hand and pulls you back up to him.

“So why me?”

Seungmin thinks, “because you’re cozy and warm,” he smiles, “and you make me laugh.”

“That’s it?”

He laughs again, and it’s so sweet and relaxed and melodic. “I’m comfortable with you, and you’re always there when I need you.”

“That’s nice to hear, considering you don’t act like you need anyone…ever.”

Seungmin goes quiet. He always puts up a strong front, because he doesn’t really know how to act any other way. He's not as cold and quiet as he appears on the outside, and he tries very hard to never come off that way to you.

“Just assume I always do.”

“Always what?”

“Always need you.”

#kim seungmin #seungmin #skz seungmin #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #seungmin x you #seungmin x reader #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fanfic #seungmin fluff #skz fluff #skz fanfic

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drowningindango · 1 year ago

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I kinda like thinking about a part of Obito's and Rin's dynamic that feels (for me) often overlooked...and it's that Rin was Obito's best friend (and presumably vice versa, although I can't say for sure on that part...Rin seemed like a social butterfly seeing how organised and connected she was with the others. Still, she had a special friendship with Obito, so I assume he was her best friend too, especially with how protective she was of him). I feel like most of the time this part only gets closer attention when they're seen as friends only/exclusively in a platonic light, for example when Obito has a different love interest or when romance as a whole isn't a focus.

I think there's something sweet about examining the friendship while Obito's crush is still present. They had a strong bond that goes beyond just him crushing on her, which is a rare concept (in my opinion) in the story. A lot of other crushes we get to see (Sakura's crush on Sasuke, Naruto's crush on Sakura, Hinata's crush on Naruto) start out from afar and with the direct intention of romance. Obito and Rin started out as friends, before he got into the age to develop a proper crush. He didn't fall for a stranger, but for his best friend, who's sweet, loyal and has been his biggest supporter his whole life.

I want to see them hanging out, I want to imagine their inside jokes, the embarrassing stories they know about each other and bring up constantly, them instinctively knowing the other's likes/dislikes/allergies, the little pet peeves. Rin always reserving the seat because she knows Obito will be late, in turn, Obito develops a habit of getting her a hurried thank you gift on the way as soon as he notices he's too late to make it in time. Rin has a mental list of the weirdest and of the best gifts she got out of this. They know each other inside and out. The day Rin is the one to get sick and Obito plays nurse, she'll get surprised by how many little things he picked up from her, just by virtue of soaking up every move she makes. And she'll laugh till her lungs hurt when he still gets it wrong.

They don't feel the same kind of love, but they love each other.

And I'll end the post here because I'm starting to cry

#obito #rin #naruto #obirin #obito uchiha #rin nohara #nohara rin #uchiha obito #writingstuff

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malarign · 2 years ago

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told you so

(when you go on a date with your enemy, and he advises you against it)

synopsis: Being a target of taunting from your enemy was your daily struggle, and when you seemed to get used to it, all of your worries disappeared when you met your new friend. but what if old feelings still didn’t pass?

contains: bff!Heeseung x fem!reader | genre: angst with a fluffy ending (requested), high school au, college au, friends to lovers | tw! mentions of food, bullying, swearing, arguing, crying, kissing and touching without consent, mentions and attempt of assault, please read at your own discretion! y/n being oblivious and delusional, basically he fell first and harder 🤩 | wc: 7,4k

author’s note: while writing this i didn’t have any specific Jisung in mind, this name just popped into my head 😬 also this was originally written to be a mini series but it didn't get much attention so i’m reposting it as a one shot :)) enjoy!

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

original taglist: @nicholasluvbot, @simpforsunwoo, @sweetjaemss

Morning, Wednesday, 9th January 2019

You watched as Jisung and his friends emptied your school bag and all your books, notebooks, documents and other personal stuff fall on the wooden floor. All of them laughed while exchanging mean looks. Jisung came up to you, lowered his head to the level of your eyes, and smiled viciously.

“You better hurry, Y/n. I don’t think you want to be late for math class, right?” he asked sarcastically and ruffled your hair.

Trying to keep calm you watched as he wandered off to the class with the rest of the boys he hangs out with. You looked at all the things he threw on the floor and sighed. He never seemed to let you breathe peacefully and lavished you with his nasty comments. Both of you used to be great friends back in middle school, but then he got into a pretty bad environment and became your worst nightmare. Every class you had with him was hours of suffering. You often thought about old times, wondering if there was a way to prevent this.

Crouching down to pick your stuff up you heard how the sound of steps behind you echoed in an empty hallway. You turned your head around to see who was coming. You tried really hard to recognize his face, but you didn’t think you had ever seen him.

“Hi,” he said. His lips slightly parted as he watched your belongings on the floor. “Let me help you.”

He crouched next to you and helped you gather your books and notebooks as you collected smaller items. He neatly put them into your bag and helped you stand up from a not-really-comfortable position.

“Thank you, I really appreciate your help.” You smiled and once more scanned his face to be sure you’d ever seen him.

“I’m Heeseung by the way. I’m new here,” he spoke as he offered his hand to greet you.

“Oh, I was wondering why I couldn’t recognize you.” You smiled sheepishly. “My name’s Y/n.”

Noon, Friday, 17th May 2019

You and Heeseung clicked almost immediately. Both of you had similar hobbies and musical tastes. Since your favorite subjects were his problem and vice versa you helped each other with homework and exam preparations, usually in the calm setting of your local library. He didn’t have problems settling into a new environment. Quite quickly he made a group of friends, bugging you to tag along every time they went out somewhere. His talent for basketball also didn’t slip by the team's coach, who didn’t waste time to make him join training.

Heeseung never failed to bring a smile to your face with his quick-witted jokes and interesting stories about his life before he moved to your city. Being with him healed you in every possible way, making thoughts of Jisung almost completely forgotten. After seeing you spend your breaks with Heeseung made him stop approaching you for some reason. Sometimes when you were alone, because he had to get something done or had different classes made you anxious. You knew that whenever he was next to you, Jisung wouldn’t do anything bad.

The bell rang announcing a long-awaited lunch break. You packed your stuff and looked at Heeseung. You opened your mouth to ask the usual question about your table, but he spoke faster.

“Coach said he needs me for a second, I’m pretty sure it won’t take long. I’ll join you as soon as I’m done, okay?” He didn’t let you say anything and just dashed away after gently patting your shoulder.

You stood there watching as he disappeared behind a corner and let out a shaky sigh. That was the first time you were going to eat lunch alone ever since you met him in March. You even considered waiting for him, just to not have to sit there alone. Then a sudden wave of confidence rushed through your body, thinking “What can go wrong? He said it’s not gonna take long.”

You made your way to the school cafeteria, looking at every student that passed by, praying none of them would belong to Jisung.

After you took your tray with a full meal you sat down at your usual table and watched the entry, nervously waiting for a familiar, friendly silhouette. What you saw was far away from that. You saw Jisung and his friend enter the cafeteria. He noticed you right away. His face showed anger, eyes sharp and fierce. His look made you quiver slightly, unable to look anywhere else. He took his tray and sat at the table behind you. You could hear every bite he took on his apple, loud cracks piercing your ears. You started to count second, wishing Heeseung would come back quickly.

Time passed and you still were sitting alone at the table. Some students finished eating while your tray was still full of food. As much as you tried eating you couldn’t muster up the energy to raise a fork to your mouth.

“Where the hell is he? What is taking him so long? He said he’ll join me.” Your thoughts were disrupted by a fine figure of a man hovering over your form. He leaned into you, his breath brushing your ear.

“Long time no see, Y/n.” His malicious tone sent shivers down your spine, and you could feel tears ready to spill out of fear. “You thought I was done with you just because you started hanging out with that asshole?” He said as he brushed away the strand of your hair. He leaned even closer to you and whispered straight to your ear: “You know I will never back off.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

You noticed Heeseung standing in front of your table.

Jisung came up to Heeseung and asked: “Or what, asshole? What you’re gonna do?” He suddenly collared him and shook his form. His actions were stopped when a loud voice echoed in the cafeteria.

“Choi Jisung!” Heeseung’s coach screamed, his voice in a humbling manner. Jisung let go of Heeseung still maintaining eye contact with him.

“I guess I don’t have to do anything in particular.” Heeseung smiled at him snidely and watched as he made his way out of the cafeteria. He then shifted his look at you who was still slightly trembling at an unexpected and not really pleasant encounter with one of your classmates.

His eyes softened looking at your form, his heart breaking from the regret of not coming to you sooner. He hesitated whether what he should do and finally rubbed your back with his palm in a comforting move. He felt as if you loosened up under his touch. Seeing you calm down he sat down next to you and tried to shift your attention from a bad experience with Jisung.

“You should eat, Y/n. I’m sure it’ll help.” He took a glance at your tray. “I know how you love that pudding,” he spoke and placed the box right in front of you making you smile.

Afternoon, Friday, 17th May 2019

“Y/n can we talk about today?” Heeseung asked. You were laying in his bed, surrounded by notes from your biology class.

You looked at him. His eyes were serious but soft at the same time. You felt bad that you didn’t tell him about your bumpy relationship with Jisung, mostly because you thought the problem solved itself when you met him. But today’s events successfully proved you wrong.

“About what?” You played for time.

“About Jisung and what happened in the cafeteria.” He got straight to the point. He moved his chair to be right in front of you. “Why didn’t you tell me he bullies you?”

“Because he doesn’t,” you simply stated shifting your gaze back to your notes. Somehow word ‘bully’ made your ego ache. You weren’t bullied, at least that’s what you said to yourself.

“Well his action said something else,” he firmly said making you snap.

“What do you know, Heeseung? You don’t know him at all, yet you’re accusing him of bullying.”

Your response took him aback. “Y/n you were literally trembling at his touch and the sound of his voice. Fuck it, you were almost crying!”

“No, I wasn’t!”

“Y/n don’t act like I’m blind. Besides, I know you well.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you said and rapidly got up, gathering your notes into your bag and storming out of his room. Heeseung watched your irrational actions in utter shock. Why were you so offended? Even you didn’t know why you overreacted like that. Maybe it was because of your past friendship with Jisung? Maybe you still believed he would change for the better, and you would happily be friends like you used to be? Or maybe you would be more than friends like you always dreamt?

You walked downstairs and hurriedly started to put on your shoes. Just when you were about to go out you heard your friend’s mom.

“Y/n? You’re leaving so early?” She asked. “I’m preparing your favorite, kimchi fried rice.” She smiled warmly.

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Lee, but I need to go early today.” You felt bad lying to her, she always treated you like a daughter making sure you were never hungry whenever you hung with Heeseung. “Have a great evening!” You quickly said closing the front door behind you.

Even though it was the middle of May, the weather was rather chilly. You still had your school uniform on, your short skirt not warming you up enough.

“Y/n!” You heard Heeseung’s voice behind you. Hesitating if you should stop or run straight to your house you finally stopped your tracks. Even if you ran he would easily catch up.

You turned around and soon, Heeseung stopped in front of you, breathing heavily from his jog. You let him catch a breath and didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you mad.”

You thought for a while, you really wanted to stay mad at him for a while, but as hard as you tried, you just couldn’t. You lowered your gaze and replied: “It’s okay. I know you meant well. But you don’t need to worry about me.” You assured.

Your answer didn’t seem to satisfy him, but he remained silent. He opened his arms, offering a conciliatory hug, which you gladly accepted.

“I should go home now,” you announced, still in his embrace.

“Can I walk you home?” he asked, knowing your answer.

“I think I would rather go by myself today. Thanks though.” You slowly pulled out from his arms and waved your hand in goodbye.

Heeseung watched you walk for a while. He couldn’t stop thinking about everything you said. Your words clenched his heart, almost making him tear up. He knew one thing: he definitely will worry about you, and won’t let this happen ever again.

Evening, Saturday, 1st June 2019

“Y/n! Heeseung is already here!” Your mom shouted from downstairs as you did the final touches to your hairstyle.

“I’m coming!” you shouted and hurriedly took your purse. Skipping your way to the hallway you saw Heeseung with a small bouquet in his hands as he talked with your mom with a warm smile. She noticed your presence first.

“Y/n come here quickly.” She gestured for you to stand next to Heeseung. “Let’s take a photo. Make a pose.”

Both of you tried different poses for the photo, from the normal ones to your usual, funny ones. After a short photo shoot, you made your way to Heeseung’s car and drove to have fun at prom.

You arrived at school quite late, as other students were already dancing in the hall. You were about to get out of his car when he stopped you with a soft hand motion. You were slightly confused but all the concern disappeared when you saw his jog around the car to your side. He opened the door gallantly and offered his hand.

“Wow, so chivalry is really not dead, huh?” you remarked and smiled at him while getting out.

“Y/n, I’m afraid you forgot who I am.” He placed his hand on his heart with an injured look on his face.

“Lee Heeseung, I envy your future girlfriend, whoever she is,” you said and made your way toward the other students.

Heeseung watched as you go with dreamy eyes and a moony smile. He couldn’t stop thinking about how gorgeous you looked tonight ever since he laid his eyes on you at your house. And not only today, the day he met you he never thought you’ll get so close and make him fall not only for your looks but charming personality, versatile knowledge, and full of empathy heart. “Hopefully you won’t have to envy her,” he thought to himself planning on confessing his feelings for you today.

When you entered the hall, your ears were pierced by loud music and the stumping of hundreds of feet. Parties like those weren’t your cup of tea, but it being prom convinced you to try having fun along with your classmates. Besides, being aware that you’re not going to be there by yourself helped you harness your train of thought. It wasn’t the first party you attended with Heeseung, but it was definitely the biggest of them all, and most importantly it wasn’t just a house party.

“Shall we?” You heard your friend’s voice and smiled. You danced all night next to each other, jumping and showing off your moves with occasional breaks to drink something or just take a breath.

Both of you sat down on a bench and watched as your classmates were also getting pretty tired. You looked at the clock which showed 10 pm. Four hours of dancing with Heeseung passed in a blink of an eye. You were about to ask him when they plan on leaving when the DJ announced a slow song. Just when you were about to stand up and freshen up in the bathroom none other than Heeseung showed in front of you, his figure towering over yours.

“May I have this dance?” He smiled but his tone wasn’t playful, but serious. Almost too serious.

You simply nodded your head in response and let him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. He took one of your hands into his and placed the other one on your waist, pulling you a little bit closer to him, to the point you felt how his breath fell on your nose. You never were in that close proximity to him, apart from that one hug after your quarrel, but none of you felt awkward at all. The feeling of his hands on your body made you feel safe and at ease, contrary to what you experienced throughout the past few years of high school.

Heeseung looked at you with full adoration in his eyes as you struggled to dance with him, occasionally stepping on his foot.

“Sorry, I had never danced like this,” you confessed sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. Just follow my lead, Y/n,” he murmured in a low voice, sending shivers down your spine. You did as he said, focusing on making the correct steps. Heeseung pulled you even closer, making you both sway in an intimate hug. Hug too intimate for friends. You noticed how his face slowly came closer to yours, and when your foreheads almost touched suddenly both of you landed on a cold, wooden floor. You took a look around and noticed how the other pair fell on the ground, the boy frantically apologizing to you and Heeseung for pushing you. You saw how his jaw clenched and eyes sharpened.

“Well, you should be more careful,” he snapped.

“Heeseung, it’s okay.” Your voice made his face soften and shift his now calm gaze to you. He helped you get up and fix hair that loosened because of the impact. While he was busy fixing your hairclips you noticed a pair of eyes watching you like a hawk. His gaze wasn’t sharp and aggressive like in the cafeteria two weeks ago. It was rather interested and invested. He watched you calmly but your heart started its usual race at the sight of his eyes on your form.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asked worriedly, noticing your distant gaze.

“Yes,” you answered shortly and quickly. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Do you want to dance some more or sit down? It must’ve hurt,” he spoke, referring to your fall.

“Actually, can you drive me home?” you asked hurriedly. You didn’t want the situation in the cafeteria to happen again. And knowing Heeseung you knew it was very probable.

His expression dropped at your words, pursing his lips he nodded and lead your way to his car.

Contrary to the ride to the prom, this way was way quieter. None of you dared to speak. One because of regret and the other because of anxiousness. You looked at the trees that you passed by and how almost all windows were dark. You recognized your neighborhood and prepared to get out of his car when his voice stopped you.

“Y/n?”

You looked at him, your face painting a question, asking him to continue.

He debated for a while. “It’s this moment. Now or never,” he thought to himself.

“I had so much fun with you today, Y/n,” he simply stated, hesitation winning over his will to finally confess.

“Thank you, I also had so much fun.” You smiled and bid your goodbyes, leaving him in his car alone with his thoughts.

“Will you ever realize?”

Afternoon, Tuesday, 18th October 2022

The faint sound of keyboards’ clicking and soft whispers between students, accompanied by rustling scribbling on paper always helped you study. The whole atmosphere helped you compose yourself after long days of school and now college. Getting onto the major of your dreams wasn’t easy, but thanks to your investment in finals preparations and the help of your friends, you succeeded. Not only you studied what you’d always wanted, but you also weren’t as lonely as you were in high school. Because of similar interests, you quickly got in with them, spending breaks in each other’s company and having occasional sleepovers and other friendly hangouts. Thanks to them, accustoming to college life wasn’t as harsh and hard as you expected it to be.

Many things changed since you graduated from high school, apart from one thing - your usual friendly study dates with Heeseung were still a tradition none of you dared nor wanted to break. One would think that studying different subjects would break your friendship, but it only tightened the bond you had.

Heeseung reached for his backpack and took out a small box filled with white and red grapes. He placed it between you two so that you also could grab some. Seeing that you also took out your lunch box with walnuts and cashew nuts. You poured them into his box, knowing how he liked mixed flavors of grapes and nuts. He noticed that and immediately smiled in your direction, whispering a faint but still audible “Thank you”. You returned the smile and focused on your notes once again.

On the other hand, as much as he tried to, Heeseung couldn’t. His mind was flooded and confused about his own feelings for you, which only grew stronger as time passed. Ever since he tried confessing and getting closer to you during prom he didn’t dare to try again. The panic he saw in your eyes spoke for themselves. Fear of losing you overwhelmed his heart, he knew he wouldn’t be able to endure that. That’s why he tried ignoring all the love he had for you, usually failing miserably.

“What are your plans for the weekend?” you asked quietly, trying not to disturb other people around you.

Heeseung got back to his senses and thought for a second. “I have a basketball match at 6 on Saturday,” he replied, raising his one eyebrow. “You forgot?” he asked but it sounded more like a statement, not a question.

You pursed your lips together and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“No worries. Are you still planning to come?” He closed his book and turned around to face you directly.

“Of course!” you exclaimed in a whisper. “I never missed any of your matches and I’m not planning to change that. I like seeing you win,” you added, not knowing you caused his heart to flutter and a swarm of butterflies to fill his stomach.

“What if I don’t win?” he asked, unable to control a bright smile.

“I think we both don’t believe it will ever happen,” you remarked and a few people shushed you, annoyed by your too loud for a library conversation. Heeseung and you mumbled quiet apologies and returned to your books, trying to keep yourselves from laughing.

You called the study session off a little bit an hour later.

“You sure you don’t need a walk home?” he asked for a millionth time today.

“Hee, I’m sure. Besides don’t you have a training today? You better not be late again,” you scolded him and he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.

“Okay, but text me as soon as you get home.” He pointed at you and squinted a bit.

“I will, bye!” you assured him and waved at him.

Deciding to take advantage of the last warm days, you took a longer route home. You passed by many places you used to go to while you were still a high school student. Cafes you used to study in with Heeseung whenever there were too many people in the library, a park where both of you ate lunches during hot summer days, a basketball court where he taught you how to play and gave you tips on how to make a score. It made you realize that apart from memories with Heeseung you can’t reminisce about other ones, as if you knew him your whole life. You stopped by the cafe you studied in together for the first time, and remembered how awkward you were with each other back then. You smiled at the memory of the very much begging of your friendship. Now that same cafe was filled with couples, taking photos together or of each other and sharing sweet desserts. The sight of love made you question if your future partner is going to like Heeseung. But the thought of anybody not liking him seemed impossible for you.

You continued walking when you saw a familiar figure approaching you. A figure you didn’t expect to meet.

“Hi Y/n! It’s me, Jisung!”

Evening, Tuesday, 18th October 2022

“It’s been a while, I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jisung said in a friendly tone. You also almost didn’t recognize him. He wore the complete opposite attire to his usual pair of jeans and collection of plain T-shirts, now wearing a suit with elegant shoes.

“Yeah, me too,” you spoke and a sheepish smile with a hint of disbelief crept on your face.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in like ages!” Jisung kept on smiling and tilting his head to the right, an old habit of his.

“Jisung what do you want?” you asked quickly, scared of his reaction.

Seeing your expression he sighed and spoke: “Y/n, listen. I’m really sorry. For everything I’ve done. I treated you badly, and I regret it with my whole heart.” He placed his hand on the left side of his chest. “What I did was wrong and I want to sincerely apologize to you. I’m so sorry.” His words seemed to be genuine and truthful to you.

“It was a long time ago, it’s okay, Jisung.” You shrugged and smiled softly.

“It’s not really okay, unless you let me redeem myself. let me take you out,” he said nonchalantly.

“Oh?”

“Do you have plans on Saturday? There’s a new restaurant that opened a while ago, what do you think?”

Thinking for a while you slowly nodded. Your movement made a strand of your hair fall from behind your ear and he was quick to fix it, making you blush.

“Great. It’s a date then. I’ll come and pick you up at 7,” he announced and said his goodbye, leaving you dumbfounded.

You felt like your chest gets tighter and your stomach fills with butterflies. You turned around to look at him once more but he was already gone. Just when you thought you finally forgot about him and your feelings for him, that somehow buried themselves in the depth of your heart, all you could think about was him once again. The way he looked at you, the way he smiled at you, the way the slightest touch of his fingers brushing fragile skin on your cheek, it all made you feel like on shaky ground.

Then it hit you. You’re going on a date. Your first ever date. You almost let a squeal leave your lips, but stopped it on time by covering them with the palm of your hand. Excitement rushed through your body and you hurriedly headed home.

When you arrived home and were done letting out all excitement and thrill of your body by jumping all over your place, you took the phone out of your bag. You noticed a few missed calls, all from Heeseung. You remembered how you promised to text him when you arrive home, and now he must’ve finished his practice.

You dialed his number and didn’t have to wait for too long for him to answer.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Yes, oh my god, Hee! Everything is great!” you couldn’t contain your happiness and wanted to share the news with him.

“Woah, woah, what’s that excitement about?” he asked and laughed at your crazy behavior.

“Hee, I’m going on a date!”

For a while your painful silence submerged the call, the only sound was soft breathing on the other side of the line.

“Heeseung? Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yes, yes, uhm, I’m okay,” he choked out.

“Well, then aren’t you gonna congratulate me?”

“Y/n, I’m very happy for you, but do I know this guy? You‘ve never told me about him.” His voice was rather cold in contrary to his words.

“You know him! It’s Jisung, from our high school.”

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t believe his ears. “Choi Jisung? The one who bullied you?”

“You’re at it again? He didn’t bully me Heeseung! He used to be my friend. Besides, why would you know what type of relationship we had?” You were mad. He never had an opportunity to truly get to know him, yet he was talking badly about him. This made your blood boil, because you knew him, and he certainly wasn’t as bad as Heeseung painted him.

You thought you truly knew Jisung. And you did to some point in your lives, now living on the deluded picture of him made by your imagination.

“Y/n, he treated you horribly! You were scared of him, don’t tell me otherwise, 'cause your reaction said otherwise.” His voice was harsh, sounding like he was scolding you.

“He changed! He apologized to me. He knows what he did was wrong!” you exclaimed, now even more mad than before.

“Y/n people like him don’t change. And even if he did, he shouldn’t be forgiven and given any more chances. Especially by you.”

“Let me decide on that. Fuck you, Heeseung,” you said and ended the call. You threw it on your bed and went to the bathroom to take a long shower, in hopes it would help you calm down.

Your words rang in Heeseung’s head for a long time. He froze, the phone still near his ear as if he was hoping you would say you didn’t mean that. But as minutes passed he realized you certainly did mean your words, and that they were meant to hurt him. He sat on the ground and slumped against a wall. Feeling his eyes sting as they brimmed with hot tears, Heeseung quickly wiped them off before completely breaking down. He stood up after a while and reached into a drawer for his car keys, ready for a night drive.

Afternoon, Saturday, 22nd October 2022

You stood in front of your wardrobe wondering how you should dress for your date with Jisung. You tried hard to think of anything that would suit the vibe and atmosphere of a fancy restaurant you’re going to, but your mind was flooded with thoughts of Heeseung. It was the longest you went without contacting each other, but your ego didn’t let you reach out to him. He should be happy for you, for his friend. After you would be happy for him if he told you he was going to have a date. Right?

After what seemed like ages of wondering about your outfit you contacted one of your classmates, Jennifer.

“Jen, do you have a second you could spare me? you asked as soon as your friend picked up the phone.

“Y/nie, my love, for you I always have time. What’s wrong?” she spoke and brought a long-lost smile to your face.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you but I remember how stressed you were with your presentation, but…” you started, feeling guilty for not telling her sooner.

“Oh my god, what is it? You’re scaring me!” she raised her voice dramatically.

“Well, I’m going on a date and I don’t know what to wear. I still have lots of time left but I’m getting a little bit nervous,” you confessed.

“Oh my! Finally, I’m so happy for you, bestie!” You heard her clapping her hands excitedly. “How about me coming over and rummaging through your clothes?”

“That would be great, but Jen you don’t have to!”

On the other side of the line, you heard the jingling sound of her car keys.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, plus you need to tell me how that happened, so don’t try to stop me now!” she said, and soon after you hung up.

While you were waiting you sat on your bed, thinking of possible scenarios of today’s date. Will it look like it does in movies? Will it end up only on this one date or will there be more?

Suddenly, the silence of your room got disturbed by the sound of a notification. You took your phone and read a reminder: “♡ Heeseung’s match 6pm ♡”. This made you bite your lips, guilty of not keeping your promise. Sure, you were mad at him, but he is still your best friend. “I never missed any of your matches and I’m not planning to change that,” you remembered your words from a few days ago. You placed your elbows on your thighs and hid your face in your hands. Just when you were about to let out your emotions you heard knocking on your front door. You opened them and they revealed a smiling Jennifer.

“Let’s get to the work, shall we?”

Thanks to Jennifer, picking your outfit was filled with laughter and her anecdotes. This helped you deal with the anxiety caused by your upcoming date, but also, more importantly, stop yourself from thinking about Heeseung. Before you knew it, the outfit was ready, along with a bag, some accessories, and shoes. You still had some time before 7 PM, so you sat in your room and chatted for a while, enjoying each other’s presence after days of different schedules.

“Okay, but most importantly, how did he ask you out?” She waited for your answer with anticipation and excitement.

“I mean we met when I was having a walk in the neighborhood and he just asked me.” You shrugged but your cheeks filled with red tint.

“Oh my god!” Jennifer exclaimed, emphasizing the last word. “I thought he will never ask you out, at this rate. But finally, my prayers were listened to!” She raised her hands in the air, while you were, to say the least, confused and dumbfounded.

“What do you mean? Who are you talking about?” you asked.

Your friend’s smile faded and she lowered her hands. “About your friend, that Heeseung guy. Is he not the one that asked you out?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“So it’s not Heeseung you’re going out with?” You shook your head and noticed how disappointment filled her eyes.

“Oh come on, Jen. You’re not happy for me anymore?”

“I am!” she defended herself. “It’s just… Both of you already seemed like a couple or like you at least like each other. You always say he’s like an angel, that you can’t imagine your life without him, so I kinda just assumed you liked him. Plus the way he looks at you speaks for itself better than your constant love confessions.”

Love?

Evening, Saturday 22nd October 2023

The gymnasium hall was filled with loud cheers coming from both bleachers. Players were practicing shots and warming up before the first match of the season. Heeseung was one of them, yet the ace known for excellent aim failed to score almost anything. He kept on looking for you in your usual place where you cheered for him along with your friends. But that one spot was empty, soon to be occupied by some unknown to him student. He tried to push the thoughts of you away, but as much as he tried the more he failed. None of the players or the coach had ever seen this part of him.

The match barely started, yet your university’s team was failing like never. Mainly because something apparently preoccupied the mind of the captain of the team. This made a coach come to a decision of seating him on a bench, for the first time during his player days.

You waited patiently on the couch, ready to go out. The clock showed half past seven, which made you worried, if he will even come. What if he got into an accident? What if something bad happened to him. You anxiously were looking at your phone, waiting for some message from Jisung. You were about to call him when your phone screen lightens up, showing his caller ID. You answered almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n! I’m so sorry for being late, but I’m already near your place so you can already come out,” he said and you could hear the sound of the engine’s drone.

“No worries, take your time,” you reassured him but noticed that the call already ended.

You locked the door behind you and made your way to the elevator.

You spotted his car from afar and waved at him. Your heart almost sprung out of your chest and felt how your throat tightens at every breath you took. You got in and greeted him shyly.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, and before you could realize he left a quick and harsh kiss on your lips, leaving you shocked. Jisung on the other side smiled to himself and started the car.

“I thought we could go somewhere where we could be alone before eating, what do you say?” he asked placing his hand on your inner thigh, making you, to say at least, extremely uncomfortable.

You tried taking his hand off your body, but he only gripped your wrist tightly making you hiss. “Oh, Y/n. Don’t act so innocent.” He stopped at the side of the road. Looking around you couldn’t spot a single living soul around you nor any car passing by. “But I can assure you I’ll fuck you better than him,” he said bluntly and started unbuckling his belt.

Not really knowing what to do you slapped him across his face and hurriedly got out o his car. You ran as fast as you can, with stamina better than usual, due to a high level of adrenaline in your body. You thought of the place you should go to. He knew where you lived so your place wouldn’t work. Jennifer’s apartment on the other hand was far away from where you were. The only place that was near enough was Heeseung’s apartment. Looking at the time you thought he must already be home. You turned around once more to see if he was following you. Not thinking twice you continued running, still shocked not knowing what exactly happened.

The first thing Heeseung did after arriving home from his first-ever lost match was take a cold shower. He let the icy water cascade down his body while still thinking about you. What if he did something bad to you during your date? He knew Jisung was up to no good, yet he let you go out with him. He stepped out of the cabin and hurriedly dressed himself into comfortable clothes.

Where should he search for you? he should’ve at least asked you where you were going and now he had an entire city to rummage. Not bothering to dry his hair he grabbed his keys and opened the door only to see you, completely breathless, on the edge of crying at his sight.

Night, Saturday, 22nd October 2023

You stared at your reflection in a mirror, under the bright light of Heeseung’s bathroom. None of you dared to speak, both allowing you to catch your breath, collect thoughts and speak whenever you’re ready. He just let you in and gave you his T-shirt and pair of shorts you always wore whenever you paid him an unexpected visit and wanted to get changed into something more comfortable.

Heeseung decided to prepare a quick meal for you and took your favorite snacks he stored in his kitchen, just in case. Your state worried him to the point he didn’t know what to do. He knew one thing though. Jisung wanted to hurt you, and either he succeeded or his attempt stayed as an attempt. He waited patiently for you, giving you all the time you needed, and thought of all the possible scenarios and how he could comfort you.

You finally decided to leave the bathroom and took a seat next to him on the couch. For a while, the silence filled the room with hesitation and uncertainty.

“Do you wanna talk or eat first?” he asked, trying to sound as gentle as he could.

“Eat,” you simply whispered, voice cracking on the way.

Heeseung looked up at you. You hugged your knees, eyes mentally checked out. He raised his hand to rub your shoulder but stopped himself midway, instead he just nodded and stood up to hand you your bowl. You quietly thanked him and took a bite of still hot noodles he had prepared. Silence once again submerged the room, the only audible sound was an occasional noodle slurp.

Once you finished and placed a bowl on the table sudden realisation hit you. You were assaulted. Jisung wanted to hurt you and he certainly didn’t change. And that Heeseung was right. Your eyes brimmed with tears.

Your expression told him everything he needed to know. Guilt crept over him and all h could think was if it could be prevented. If only his pride and ego didn’t blind him if only he wouldn’t let his emotions stop him. But now it was too late. You, the person he loved dearly was hurt, making him feel helpless.

Before he could think how can he comfort you, you were already in his arms. You cried your heart out on his shoulder as he just closed you in his warm and secure embrace, wanting to bring home to you, in such a crisis you were in.

“Hee, you were right!” you cried, choking on each word. “I should’ve listened to you, it’s all my fault!”

Heeseung pulled out t your words and cupped your cheeks in his palms. His eyes were full of compassion and regret, accentuated by tears that threatened to fall down his face. “No Y/n. It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything to deserve this. I am here to listen and help you.”

His words felt like a soft Sunbeams that hit your skin after days of constant rain. You felt like your tensed body slowly relaxes at his touch and words as he spoke. Realizing how lucky you got, to have a friend like him you smiled as tears still blurred your vision. Nonetheless, you still noticed how he also smiled at you, eyes expressing nothing but pure love and will to protect you from everything.

“Plus the way he looks at you speaks for itself better than your constant love confessions,” you recalled Jennifer’s words now replaying all the memories you made with him during those almost 4 years of friendship.

How he never hesitated to help you whenever he saw you struggling.

How he never let you skip meals during exam season, sacrificing his own study time.

How he always managed to make time for you.

How he helped you live to the fullest during your high school days.

How he was the only person to truly know how to calm you down and help you relax.

How he was the only person to know your true self.

How he just stayed by your side, even though you were wrong, and hurt him with your insensitive words.

He truly does love you. How could you not see this?

What bugged you, even more, was how you didn’t realize you loved him too, maybe even more than he loves you. His compassion, passion, and kindness made him an angel you did not deserve.

“Hee, I’m so sorry.” You shook your head from disbelief at your own obliviousness and stupidity. “I’m so sorry for hurting you, for what I said a few days ago. I regret it and never intended to hurt you.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he just smiled and invited you into his embrace once again. You gladly fell into his arms and melted in the comforting touch that helped you feel at ease. Your oasis. Your home.

Evening, Friday, 28th April 2023

The spectators were going crazy at the fierce match between the two teams. Your university’s players were currently losing by a few points but still were hoping to win regionals. While teams were discussing tactics with their coaches during a short break you were shouting words of encouragement along with other fans.

After the floor got cleaned players once again stepped on the court and started the last quarter. The ball relocated quickly between the hands of opponents when because of a small mistake of one of them it landed in your team’s captain, Heeseung’s hands. Your side of the bleachers screamed out of joy as he scored 3 points.

For a few minutes, none of the teams scored, raising the stress and emotions to the maximum. Now Heeseung’s team needed a final word to win the game and knock current front-runners off their pedestal. The tension in the air suffocated everyone, they were equally close and far from winning, because of the exhaustion of the other team.

The clock showed one minute till the end and a sudden rush of adrenaline overpowered Heeseung’s body. He had to lead his team to victory and he knew he could do it. He waited for the right moment and took the ball away from another player. He rushed to the hoop making an impressive buzzer beater leaving one side of the hall in tears of regret and the other one of joy.

The team surrounded him in a group hug, celebrating the victory and making it to the nationals, for the first time in your university’s history.

Seeing him so happy and smiley because of victory made your heart fill with glee and pride.

You saw how his teammates’ girlfriends rushed to congratulate them. That’s when Heeseung and your eyes met. He made a confused expression and you saw him say, barely audible because of the noise: “What are you waiting for?” and opened his arms.

You laughed and rushed his way to engulf him in a hug, not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body and clothes. You pulled out, arms still wrapped around his neck, and kissed him, feeling salty drops on your lips. He melted in your touch and lifted your body while spinning around. You giggled against his lips and pulled away saying: “I’m so proud of you, love” making his cheeks and tips of ears turn bright pink. “I love you so much,” you confessed and looked deeply into his beautiful dark eyes.

“I love you more,” he said leaving a sweet kiss on your temple.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

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