#i was contemplating never gonna give u up for shits and giggles

[jaebeomsbitch]

My First Kiss (E.M.)

PT: II coming soon

Summary: Eddie finds out you’ve never kissed anyone before and offers to teach you.

Warnings: Minors DNI!!! Kissing, some light touching, cursing.

A/N: this was supposed to be a short one haha. Not edited!

“It was traumatic! She left saliva all over my face, maybe she was part dog” Eddie dramatizes, hands swinging wildly, the tv playing low in the background. You can’t help but laugh along as if you understand. All you can really do is imagine.

You cant help the look of disgust on your face before smiling.

“Oh yeah your battle scars run deep” you giggle pushing his thigh with your foot.

“I feel like it’s worse for girls, isn’t it?” He asks.

You quickly look down, cheeks blooming red like a spring flower in the morning.

“I- u-uh uhm— I” you stutter.

Eddie’s eyes furrow, it’s incredibly uncharacteristic for you to be this flustered especially after knowing you so long.

“I- I wouldn’t know” you mumble, shaking your hair out and curtaining yourself away from your best friend.

“You want me to teach you?” He asks, his tone a lot raspier than you remember two seconds ago.

“W-what? N-no that’d be weird” you stammer as your gaze snaps up towards Eddie.

“C’mon it’s just a kiss, it doesn’t have to mean anything or change anything” he says, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. Something so normal for the two of you that now feels weirdly charged. You stare at him like a fish out of water, mouth open, eyes wide as you contemplate.

“You can trust me, sweetheart” he says softly. Your eyelashes flutter, you hate that your stomach flips when he cups your cheek.

“I know, I know— jus’” you swallow hard looking up at him.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I’ll always take care of you” he says softly.

“It’s not gonna change anything? You’ll still be you and I’ll still be me?” You ask, heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

“Yeah, just me and you. Always” he murmurs.

“Okay,” you whisper after a beat.

His fingers weave through your hair, his touch gentle, as he cradles the back of your head. You twist your bodies, the angle awkward but not as awkward as you feel.

"Okay," He echoes, his tone soft. His gaze holds yours, his attention intense, as he commits himself to making this experience good for you. With a tender smile, he tilts his head, his lips inches from yours, as he prepares to take your first kiss. Your breath hitches, hands fisting his shirt.

His mouth hovers above yours, his warm breath dancing across your skin, as he senses your nervousness. He pauses, his lips barely grazing yours, as he allows you to anchor yourself. His fingers tighten in your hair, his grip reassuring, as he remains motionless, waiting for your cue.

Your breath shakes as you your lips approach his, eyes clamming shut, gasping when your lips press against his. You end up tugging at his shirt, Eddie grunts as his arm slips pressing his body into yours.

“Easy, sweetheart” he says pulling away from your mouth when he realizes you’re shaking.

“You’re safe with me,” he runs his fingers through your hair, trying to calm your frazzled nerves.

“I’m okay- I’m okay. Just wasn’t expecting this” you say.

“Shit” he looks down, moving off of you.

“Sorry” he straightens out his shirt. You don’t miss the light dusting of pink on the tips of his ears.

You smile softly when you realize despite his usual suave manner he’s also nervous.

“S’kay” you hum, letting yourself fall back onto the couch. You can feel his gaze burning through you. As the silence rings loud in Eddie’s trailer the awkwardness starts to grow. This sense of dread starts pressing into your chest, it’s almost suffocating. You sit up abruptly, startling Eddie in the process.

“Jesus Christ!” He says clutching his chest.

“Sorry” you laugh, feeling the tension lighten instantly.

“Why were you sitting up like you’re fucking…Pazuzu?” He asks, struggling to cross his legs on the small couch. You shift back to give him more room.

“Nothing, just wanted to try again”you try to say nonchalantly, totally not like your heart beat is in your throat and you want to vomit with anxiety.

“Oh, yeah?” He says, that smile back on his lips. The one you’ve accustomed to seeing whenever he proves you wrong or beats you at skeeball.

You roll your eyes, “yeah but only if you don’t crush me in the process again.”

“I’m a growing boy!” He protests, moving to sit against the couch cushions again.

“You’re twenty five,” you deadpan.

“And yet you still want you kiss me” he grins, grabbing your elbow and pulling you towards him gently.

“Technically you asked to kiss me so I think you want to kiss me more” you tease, crawling over to him.

“Maybe I do” he smiles grabbing your hip and bringing your leg over his until you’re straddling him.

“Yeah right” you chuckle, brushing his hair back. You feel the way his hands slide down your hips to wrap around the backs of your thighs, your heart beat racing so fast you think you might have a heart attack.

“I’m serious,” he says, looking up at you with those big brown eyes.

“No you’re not” you laugh, not believing your player of a best friend for a second.

“Yes, I am” he says. Your eyebrows furrow as you look down at him.

“No you’re not” you shake your head. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head forcing you to look at him. Your lips brush ever so slightly causing you to lose your breath.

“Yes I do” he whispers

“Eds…” your voice shakes, your hands finding his shoulders for some stability as everything you know starts to fall apart.

“I wanna kiss you sweets… please” he sounds so pathetic in the best of ways. You can’t help but squeeze his shoulders.

“I- I-“ you struggle with your desires and your logic.

“Just feel baby” he whispers, hand squeezing your thigh softly.

You swallow hard before pressing your lips to his, hands tangled in his knotted hair. You’re incredibly clumsy but Eddie doesn’t mind, not when he can feel his lips tingle with sparks.

Your fingers dig harder into his shoulders as you start to find your rhythm. Just when you start to get comfortable he squeezes your ass pressing your chest into his, not wanting to leave any space between you two. You moan as your hips press into his. You can feel the thick bulge through the stupidly short shorts he wears.

“Eddie” you pant as he starts pressing kisses down your neck.

“Mhm” he hums against your skin, sucking on it and leaving purple bruises.

“Fuck— m-maybe we’re going too fast?” You struggle to keep your thoughts together. He pulls back “You ‘kay?” He asks, his hand holding your jaw.

You nod, noticing how disheveled he looks. His hair mussed and tangled, lips puffy and dark pink, the collar of his shirt slightly stretched.

“M’okay” you lick your lips self consciously.

“What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” He asks, his thumb rubbing your cheek back and forth.

“That we’re about to fuck everything up” you whisper.

“We’re not gonna fuck it up” Eddie responds immediately.

“I like you, I’ve liked you, I’ll continue to follow you around like a little lost puppy dog even if you don’t wanna kiss me again but we’re not gonna fuck us up” he says holding your face making sure you understand him clearly. Your mind reels as Eddie drops the thin vein, the one thing that kept the reality of what’s going on between you to unspoken.

“Eds…” you whisper.

“N-no it’s fine” he says, lowering his hands from your face as the embarrassment of being rejected sets in. Eddie is used you rejection but he actually likes you, it’s not some one night stand with a stranger.

“No, no hold on. I’m not saying no” you rush.

“I like you but— but you’re you and I’m… me” you say squeezing his shoulders

“What the fuck does that even mean?” He asks, his tone a little harsher than he means to be.

You flinch at this new side of your best friend.

“Nothing, it doesn’t mean nothing” you sigh, he won’t get.

“Tell me” he says grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. You swallow hard as you’re met with those big brown pleading eyes of his.

“You’re hot and I’m—“ you trail off.

“You’re what?” He pushes you again.

“A hideous monster that no one would ever look at” you murmur. You don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours, they’re not soft and patient like before. It’s angry and you find it hard to keep up but it feels like Eddie is swallowing you whole.

“Shut the fuck up, if I ever hear you talk ‘bout yourself that way again I’ll make sure you forget about all those stupid little thoughts, yeah?” He says, eyes wide. He looks pissed, more angry than you’ve seen him when he’s just off of work and customer was being an asshole.

“I- uhm okay” you stammer

“S’what I thought. Good girl” he breathes out a sigh, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You hate that your mind does blank as soon as the praise slips out of his pink lips, your body still as he falls back on the couch. His hands haven’t left the backs of your thighs, no. Instead he’s started tracing patterns onto the sensitive skin.

Every piece of your best friend is tantalizing whether he realizes it or not. It’s so easy to fall for his charm, especially when it includes those big brown eyes of his. You’d fallen for Eddie far too long ago, before the leather jackets and metal music. Back when scraped knees and soft kisses to your marred skin were innocent.

[tojiscrack]

if your goal was to give me an aneurysm from the most recent chapter congrats you did! 🥳🥳🥳

LOVEBIRDS??? nuh uh. NUH UH UH. stawp kamo back off pleaseeeeuhhh 🙏🙏😭😭💔💔

BUUUUUTTTT jealous megumi??? OH WE ARE SO GETTING CLOSE TO ANGST i can picture it all in my head:

megumi: why have u and kamo been so close recently, ur supposed to be my ..bsf 😡😡

y/n: ummm wdym porcupine shut up were not that close 😤

AND BOOM ANGST i am so scared yet excited for the angst to be more serious 😈😈 (i am almost 100% sure every single ask ive sent u has mentioned the angst in one way or another)

um also do NAWT expect me to switch teams, CUZ YOU HAVE BEEN SEEING THIS FROM AO3 READERS (and like 1 tumblr reader) BUT NOT ME!!!! i will not be going to team kamo because 1. i am a SUCKKKERRRRR for childhood friends to lovers + the whole dynamic they have (constantly teasing each other but always matching the energy) AND 2. my fav jjk character is megumi so obviously i wanna see him more

btw i think this bonus scene is my favorite because its soo ridiculous?? 😭 i hope yk whenever you put something from canon into this (like w the prison thing) it feels like im watching a reboot of a show or movie and theres a parallel/refrence/character return, and all im thinking is “holy shit i know this!!! omgomgomg!!!!”

btw i apologize for sending this in later than i normally would, i saw you posted last night but i was soooo tired and i decided to sleep, and i was binge watching “you” all day so uhm i just read it! 😅😅 (also if it helps im like 99% sure you posted the chapter on megumis birthday in my timezone)

anyways!!! AS ALWAYS FANTASTIC WRITING LIKE mwah mwah mwah i adore it so much, you genuinely have such a good way with words it amazes me every time how your writing is consistently good, but also improving?? its so impressive i wanna eat your writing 🙏🙏🙏

i was actually aiming to give you a stroke instead but, yk, aneurysms work too ig 🙄

‘stawp kamo back off pleaseeeeeuhh’ — i wrote the lovebirds line while giggling btw, i knew you and a bunch of others would react either angrily or just panicked 😭 so worth it, honestly, ur reactions are so funny dkmmm

HAHAA WHY DID YOU MAKE A WHOLE NOTE FORM SCENE OF IT? 😭😭 that’d be the sitcom version of it, narrowed down, less drama, etc. you just wait 👀

‘i am almost 100% sure every single ask i’ve sent you has mentioned the angst in one way or another’ — no i agree, i’m also almost 100% certain every single ask you’ve sent has smth to do with the angst 😭 LMAO I REMEMBER WHEN YOU WERE STRESSING ABOUT THE ANGST WHEN THE FIRST REAL PLOT-THICKENING CHAPTER CAME OUT JEISJWID

and whole time, it was just a little bit of plot sauce, nothing major

even now, the angst isn’t even here yet, and you’re still stressing 🌝 you’re gonna get greys before the story even takes off girl, CHILL 😭

‘do NAWT expect me to switch teams’ — YOU? switching teams? if that ever happens, i’d actually log off and just contemplate and ponder for a week straight. you, who was stressing about the angst before it even arrived (still not here yet)? you, who had your megumi funko pop mauled by a bear over this story? you, who returns in my inbox at least thrice a week to give everyone a speech about your negative thoughts on kamo?

yeah, me expecting you to switch teams is NEVER happening, don’t you worry about that 💀

‘btw i think this bonus scene is my favourite because it’s sooo ridiculous? 😭’ — so real. i loved writing it. initially i was gonna put smth else for the bonus scene, but i might push that smth else onto next chapter’s one. the whole reason why the gojo-phone-box scene was even put in was ‘cause of a question someone asked about whether i’d lock satoru up in jail to parallel the prison box issue in canon 😗

BUT AHHH, I’M GLAD YOU LIKE THE PARALLELED STUFF? I HAVE SM FUN WRITING THEM OUT, YOU HAVE NO IDEA 🤭

and i have more ideas to put in, but i don’t wanna introduce the newer characters from the manga just yet ‘cause ik there are some anime-only readers and i respect their unspoken wishes for a spoiler-free zone — unless otherwise mentioned :)

^ that kinda complicates things for my timeline, but it shall be fineeee, i’ll work through it lolol

don’t apologise!!

i did kinda wonder where you were (‘cause this chapter was me being purely evil by making the first half about the friend group and then the second half about kamo) so surely you’d be the first to arrive to give me a good scolding or smth? 😀 but you came anyway, so it’s fineee :) i hope you got all the sleep in the world! <3

also currently reeling rn ‘cause your comments about my writing improving is just sooooooooooosnisheidjwjdjejsbe 🙂‍↕️🤚🏽

[senqv]

tag game !!

thank u leiqi @effulgentfireflies for tagging me ( ´ ▽ ` )

rules : spell out your url with song titles and tag as many people as there are letters in your url !!!

s our grapes — le sserafim

e coute chérie — vendredi sur mer

n xde — (g)i-dle

q ing ren (情人) — kun

v igilante shit — taylor swift

tags ( no pressure !! ) : @angelicizedeve @dj-yukio @crowbird @xiaoflwrs @oo-mi-ru-oo

[hoodieofholland]

Hi if possible could you write a image where the reader isn’t famous but is dating Tom, he goes lives on Instagram and starts letting fans join and ask him a questions. You get picked to join and both of you have to try and keep a straight face without giving it away.🙂 doesn’t have to be exactly this is obviously just whatever you feel like! Thank you💕

tom+instagram here we go :)

Hope you like it!!

Warnings: language, that's all :)

"What are you doing?”, you ask your boyfriend through the phone, pressed between your ears and shoulder, while you wandered around the house to get some tasks done. There were noises in the other side of the call, and you could distinguish Harrison’s voice.

“Nothin’, just setting things up for my live. Harrison’s been helping me, you know how I suck at this whole Instagram thing”, he explains, humming as he scrolled through his phone, you on speaker.

You giggle, “I know it pretty well. Think I’m gonna just take a rest and watch you struggling online”.

“Ha-ha, very funny, girlfriend”, he puffs, but you can almost hear his smile behind that sarcastic tone. “But I’d appreciate if you showed up. Who knows, I could just introduce you to all of my fans”.

You take in a sharp breath, contemplating if that was simply a joke or if there was a true desire behind that statement. You chew on your lips and keep silence.

The two of you have been in a relationship for almost one and half an year now, but you managed - only God knows how - to keep discreet about it, keeping it a secret. For his friends, Tom had an amazing girlfriend, whom everyone pretty much appreciated spending time with. For the rest of the world, Tom was a single, charmer and desired young Hollywood actor.

It wasn’t like he wanted to keep you his little secret. It was pretty much the opposite, actually. After your first six months together, Tom had tried to convince you to reveal your relationship, too tired of not being able to show off your love outside the comfort of his house. But you wasn’t willing to do that just yet. And after one and a half year, there you were, still afraid of how things might end up if you told them the truth.

You loved Tom, and you loved the fact the he was such a talented, hardworking man, but the fact that he was also a Hollywood star, known in the whole world, made you feel cornered. You didn’t want people to judge your relationship, to judge you or to give your relationship some kind of approval. You just wasn’t ready to give up your anonymity and become Tom Holland’s girlfriend.

Things were just perfect the way they were. You wanted it to stay like that for a little more time.

But you knew the day would eventually come. It was hard to not be spotted in the street with Tom by your side. You’d never show up in an event together, always making sure to only hold hands or show affection when behind four walls, only when you were pretty sure there was no paparazzi following him. You didn’t like that neither. You wanted to act normal, to have nice date nights with him, to walk outside in summer with Tessa. You just wanted to be who you were with him inside his or your house.

“I was- I was kidding, love”, he said sheepishly, and you could sense the nervousness on his voice, chuckling slightly to hide it from you. “It would be dumb, right?”

You swallow hard. “Uh- no. No, it’s fine. I mean, I’m not ready yet, but it’s alright. I know you were joking”. You curse yourself for being so dramatic about it, but you couldn’t help it. “So, when is it starting?”

“In about five minutes actually. I gotta go now, okay?”

“Yeah”, you smile tightly. “Okay, gonna watch here. Love ya”.

“Love you, darling”.

You both hang up and you sit on the edge of your bed, laying down and closing your eyes, puffing your cheeks out and rubbing your temples. “Damn it”.

Before you can call him back and tell him you were sorry over it, you sit properly on your bed and open your Instagram app, searching for him. After those exact five minutes, he was going live. You smile at the picture of him on your screen. He looked handsome, as always, but added up to the fact that he was far away, in Atlanta, while shooting Spider-Man 3.

You watch as he explains what he was going to do in his live, waving to Harrison right behind him, distracted on his own phone, saying that he was there as a support team. You laugh at how clueless he is. He starts to pick fans to join live and ask him questions. You were pretty surprised that he was allowed to do that, not giving away any spoiler, but he managed it after all.

You were having fun watching him struggle to say some usernames, and kinda surprised at how bold some comments on the bottom of your screen were. He’s single, remember?, you think to yourself and sigh frustrated. You could just go on and tell everybody, put an end to this whole situation during interviews, where Tom was always questioned about his love life and got uncomfortable about it, where you were upset for not being able to tell them to stop shipping him with girls he wasn't interested in, cause he was with you and you only.

But instead, you just sat there, watching your gorgeous boyfriend smiling sheepishly at the camera while a fan asked him about some photos that were taken of him and his co-star a while ago. He shrugged it off and told her they were just friends, but the comments made it very clear they weren't buying it.

"Alright, gonna pick another one, lemme see..."

You get yourself distracted by the concentrated face he put on, a small wrinkle between his brows, and then it happened.

All of a sudden, you see yourself on the screen, half of it filled with Tom's video, just like the previous fan. Your eyes go wide as soon as you realize you're going live with Tom.

"Shit!" He curse immediately, eyes bugging out and looking for something on his screen to take you out of it. "Sorry, I think I just tapped the wrong thing- fuck, how do I-?"

You're startled, looking at his agitated movements as he waves to Harrison desperately, and you try to think about what to do while being completely dumbfounded with the comments going on. Most of them were laughing at the fact that Tom kept being clueless with Instagram, but some of them actually commenting about you.

She's so pretty!!

Omg i think i saw her with tom somewhere

Is she the girl that was at the ffr set and no one new about??

You are about to close your app and leave them all behind, but you can't seem to be able to take your eyes off of the screen. A thought is stuck in your mind, where those people could actually know you, talk to you, and this shouldn't be so hard.

Tom wanted it. He wanted to show the world that you were his girl, wanted to go places with you and not need a whole scheme to protect you from camera lenses.

So instead of just stepping out of this, you decided to wave your hand at them, sit on your bed a little straighter and smile.

"Hey, Tom", you said, leaving it up to him if he wanted to say it now or not. He looked at you with wide eyes, Harrison by his side, a boyish smile plastered on his face.

"Hey, uh, y/u/n" he tried to play it cool, not so sure about what he wanted to do. "Nice user". And just like that, the two of you played along as two complete strangers for a whole ten minutes, until you said your goodbyes and Tom were left alone to end his live.

You felt incredibly happy with the nice comments and about how easy it was for you to make an appearance for the first time. It wasn't like you had just told them the truth, but it was something, and you felt more comfortable about it now.

Tom called you to a video call as soon as he ended the live, equally amazed by how this turned out. He apologized for bringing you to it, and you told him it was fine, that you even liked showing up.

"I think... I think that I'm ready", you said, biting your lips nervously. "I mean, if you are too".

He went silent for a few seconds before saying. "Wow. Really? Yeah, I mean, I'm more than ready. It doesn't have to be like an announcement, we could just, I don't know, go out and just wait till they-"

"Guys!" You heard Harrison shout somewhere in Tom's living room.

Tom turned his head to look at something Haz was showing and the blonde quickly made his way to appear on your screen.

On his phone there was a page with headline: Tom Holland goes live and fans spot his supposed girlfriend, y/n y/l/n.

Harrison scrolled through the page, where a lot of evidences of you and Tom being together were collected, when both of you were spotted in the same places at the same time or even one of you at Far From Home's set.

"Uh, so..." Tom twisted his nose. "I don't think we'll need to tell them anymore".

********

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[mooniefics]

AFTER CONTEMPLATING FOR SEVERAL MINUTES:

reiner braun 🤪 + “please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

this is literally the cutest moonie, i'm proud of you for hitting 250!! ilysm 💖✨💕

oh my gosh i’m so sorry this took me so long,, thank u so much for the request n the congratulations mar !! very happy that my first work for this event can be for my love, our one n only reiner ♡(｡- ω -)

in all your years of knowing reiner, you couldn’t say that you’d ever once heard him sounding so frantic.

“please?? just pretend we’re dating. it’s only for today, i promise!”

those were the exact words he’d used over the phone, imploring for you to come to the official marley high ten-year reunion and pose as his girlfriend. despite how you assured him that you were certain no one would judge him for being single, he seemed adamant that it would be the exact opposite. and after a few apologies for your laughter at his predicament and a brief negotiation over his payment of getting you your favorite drink from the cafe near your workplace for the next few weeks, it was a done deal.

though you admittedly felt a twinge of anxiety upon entering the venue of chattering adults, dressed in the best semi-formal outfit you had in your closet, you could see that he was the more obviously nervous one between the two of you.

“just relax, rei.” you murmured, slipping your hand in his and giggling at the way his arm tensed, “these are your high school friends! i’m sure they’ll be surprised enough that you managed to find a nice girl like me all by yourself—“ he huffed disapprovingly, earning another small laugh, “—and only ask about your work or something.”

you barely finished your brief attempt at a pep talk when a loud voice came from somewhere by the food table. “is that you, braun?!”

reiner’s jaw shifted, a sign you’d come to learn meant him holding back a wince, turning to see a man with slicked back hair and a broad grin on his face approaching. based on his heavy-lidded gaze, paired with the red solo cup tipping dangerously horizontal in his grasp, you assumed he was quite tipsy already.

“considering how late you are, i wasn’t sure you’d even show,” he chuckled, still having to peer up at reiner despite still being taller than you, “but the more i thought about it, the more i remembered you never were the punctual type anyways.”

“great to see you too, porco..” reiner replied half-heartedly, palm already getting clammy in your grasp.

you glanced momentarily between them, deciding to come to your friend’s rescue by clearing your throat, drawing the teasing attention away from him. “actually, he was late because of me.” you flashed a smile, leaning into reiner’s side. “just wanted to look my best since i knew i was gonna be meeting his old friends.”

“holy shit..” porco muttered after a moment of silence, hazel eyes blowing wide as he stared at you like you’d disappear if he blinked even once, only breaking his gaze to turn over his shoulder and call out, “piecky, c’mere! i think reiner’s actually got a fuckin’ girlfriend!!”

you barely stifled a laugh at reiner’s low sigh of discomfort, pointedly ignoring how the people around glanced at porco’s shout. “did you seriously used to hang around with that guy?”

“no..” he grumbled back, “he hung around the people i hung around with and always gave me shit for no reason.”

“wow, rei, feeling a little feisty tonight, are we?”

he scoffed as you reached up to poke at his cheek, able to see the pink flush that had settled over his sharp features despite the dim lighting, dodging your inquiry while he looked ahead. “he’s coming back.”

putting on the smile you’d practiced so many times right back on, you caught sight of a cheerful dark-haired woman sidling over to your small group. “reiner?! you seriously got even taller? who’s this?”

you both exchanged names, offering a hand for her to shake which she eagerly took, turning to reiner for affirmation of your identity, to which he said, “yeah, she's my.. girlfriend...”

“how long have the two of you been together?”

“a couple months—”

“—almost a year.”

you quickly laughed off the sudden nerves of giving conflicting answers, turning back to reiner’s friends and recovering with, “we’re not super big on keeping track of dates. you know how time flies when you love someone.” you turned up to reiner, lips perking into a doting smile, “right?”

his cheeks flushed an even darker red, a sheepish smile brightening his expression. “right.”

“looks like you’re the only single one, pock.” pieck teased, laughing when the man rolled his eyes and huffed.

“you’re still with zeke?” reiner asked, prompting her to extend her left hand, waggling her fingers to show off the large diamond ring on her finger.

“yep, engaged for two years now!”

“apparently still too good to come to anything she invites him to.” porco grumbled in response.

“i already told you he’s on a business trip,” she frowned, taking his cup from his hand and taking a generous sip from it, “i’m sure he would’ve come if he hadn’t had somewhere else to be.”

“whatever you say..” he sighed, letting her finish his drink despite his apparent annoyance.

thankfully, your small slip up had been ignored, allowing both you and reiner to relax when the two finally turned their attention back to you. the night progressed much less turbulently than you’d previously anticipated, reiner allowing you to handle any questions directed at your relationship, not saying anything when you frequently slipped in little white lies to make everything seem more convincing. it didn’t stray terribly far from the truth, you were entirely honest about the way you’d met and the things that had made you “fall in love with him”. 

you took a strange amount of joy in posing as his significant other, just as he gave equally genuine reactions when you wrapped his arm around your shoulder or ate something from his plate of food, flustered and smiling all throughout. for a few brief moments, you almost forgot that he was meant to be pretending too. he’d seemed more than happy to see that you were getting along well with all his old friends.

you learned more about reiner in the hour that you’d been milling around the room with him than you probably ever had in the confines of the job environment that you’d met him in—intrigued to hear that he’d been the captain of the football team, feuded with the neighboring high-school’s while being head over heels for the captain of their cheer team, held the title of champion arm-wrestler for all four years he attended marley—little details that you made you would’ve never known had you never agreed to come. the unintentionally intimidating, humble, easy-to-fluster human resources manager that you’d befriended apparently used to be a total jock, always getting himself into trouble. 

and, based on how many times you’d been congratulated on managing to stick by his side for longer than a few months, you could only assume that you hadn’t even scratched the surface of discovering the entirety of reiner’s character.

eventually, your small group of four that’d you started out the night with had reconvened, tipsy from constantly sipping on spiked punch, an excited exclamation from pieck made all of you turn. “look! the photo booth finally opened up!!”

she was already rushing away for the corner of the venue before anyone could say a word, everyone following suit with a laugh as she stuffed a five dollar bill into the pay slot.

“uhh, pieck, i think this thing was only meant for two people.. max.” porco said after drawing open the curtain, earning a frown from her.

“but i want us all to take a picture together!” she slid into the booth despite the observation, turning to you, “c’mon, i’m sure we could all squeeze in if you sat on reiner’s lap.”

you felt your face flush, knowing there was no way to work around her request without raising some kind of suspicion and ruining the act you’d both somehow maintained for the entire night. “sounds like a plan..!”

you could feel how tense reiner was behind you as you got settled on his thighs, hesitating to rest his hands on either side of you while pieck and porco struggled to work the screen before them. you were starting to regret not asking if this was okay with him before agreeing, but you were sure he would’ve found some way out of the situation if he was truly uncomfortable. he only seemed to be preoccupied with the thought of making you uncomfortable, something which made a flicker of affection warm your chest.

“alright! we’ve got four pictures,” pieck announced, “starting... now! and make the first a normal one!”

the first three pictures were the standard photo booth antics—one with all of you smiling normally, one with all of you making the most ridiculous face you could think of in five seconds, and one of all of you arguing over what the third photo should’ve been.

“do something cute for the last one to make up for the messed up one!” pieck demanded through her laughter, pointing urgently at the countdown on the screen, “hurry up an’ kiss or something!!”

you turned back to look at reiner, wide golden eyes gazing down at you, obviously unprepared for the steadily escalating circumstance that was only being intensified by the chanting of “kiss, kiss, kiss!” coming from the woman who’d paid for the photos in the first place. and although you knew you had no obligation to do what she asked just because she had been so kind to you despite only meeting you tonight, or because the timer was winding down towards zero all too quickly, you still found yourself reaching out a hand to settle just under his jaw, heart racing impossibly fast when you realized he was already leaning down to meet you halfway.

his lips were still sweet with whatever juice had been mixed with alcohol, skin warm and blushing from your proximity, the hand that had been resting in your lap wandering to lace your fingers with his. the exchange didn't last nearly long enough, the click of the camera drawing you back to the cramped reality, pieck's cheers through giggles and porco's disgusted scoff for you two to get a room.

"i better be invited to your wedding!" pieck joked, reaching across you to draw open the curtains in a silent sign for you to pry yourself away from reiner.

"likewise." you replied with a smile, almost giddy with excitement as you clambered out of the photo booth.

though reiner's expression just barely passed as casual, his cheeks were burning red, even the tips of his ears flushed as the four of you waiting for the machine to dispense your photos. the function was winding down fast, and as soon as your drawn-out goodbyes were finally finished, you and reiner left, hand-in-hand, much to talk over but neither of you willing to speak until you'd reached the privacy of his car.

you turned to him, smiling in the dim glow on the lights of his dash, laughing softly at his sheepish expression, "i know you said we'd only pretend for a day but.. you think i could request a little extension?"

[marky4l]

Step by Step / Mark Lee

step by step / mkl

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

From an innocent childhood friendship to a juvenile high school rivalry to a forced pairing for a Psychology paper, it seems you and Mark just can’t avoid each other. But something’s a little different now.

genre: fluff, angst (a little bit), suggestive themes, childhood friends (barely mentioned!) to enemies to lovers, college!au

notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances 

word count: 17.2k 

hi!!! this is my first work nd I’m really excited to put this out I’d looove if you could give it a read :^) hound me on my inbox if u wanna i take anything

“Remember when we were best friends in fifth grade?”

His voice is a little quiet, and there’s a very obvious undertone of boredom, but you hum softly anyway, nodding, as if to question why you would ever forget. Fifth grade was a suburban brew of Star Wars marathons, figuring out the world, and Harry Potter merchandise littering your house. Fifth grade was lemonade and oatmeal, knitted sweaters, and sneaking into your mom’s vanity to swipe her makeup. And fifth grade was Mark—bright eyed, geeky Mark, with his Death Star replica and weird electronica music. 

Mark, who had an affinity with Troy from High School Musical and Spiderman, and wanted to be just like them. Mark, who would show up grinning to your front door everyday, pie dish in his nimble grip. He was the one who had opened a lemonade stand at the corner of your block so he could buy you the Gryffindor scarf you’d been nagging your mom about the entire holiday season. He was the one who learned the chords to your favorite Jonas Brothers song and sang it to you each time you requested it.

“Yes, I do,” you answer instead, clearing your throat. 

You attempt to push down all the memories that just ran through your head and adjust the grip you have on your pen. “Well,” Mark continues, “that was ages ago. Beats me why it ever happened.” 

The timidity is replaced with a tidal wave of teasing, and the annoyance that had disappeared is beginning to crawl all over you. Again. You roll your eyes and pull up the slides your professor had assigned. “Beats me why we even ended up in the same university, let alone the same class,” you jab, “if you thought I forgot about how you outright failed our Spanish classes in high school, I didn’t.”

Your friendship with Mark had reached its unfortunate demise to the hands of middle school, where you had branched out with your interests and began to stick to societal (as societal as school can get) norms. He had joined the geeky, cool kids; you hadn’t joined a specific social circle, but you had a best friend, Lia, and you were generally good with everybody. 

Somehow, despite you both being in good graces with everyone, you had a deep-seated dislike for one another that stemmed from an intense academic rivalry. Specifically, the competition to become school council president. That had ended now, seeing as though you were both in college, but the abrasiveness of your banter had never worn off.

“Oh, because you were so good at Physics?” he says, voice even. His brow is raised. “We all have our strong suits, you know. You’re one to talk.” You decide to pay him no mind, instead jotting down the criteria for your final project in Psychology 1—something about the stages of grief. You’re supposed to relate it to a different human process and show how they fit with one another. 

It’s absolute fucking bullshit, and the fact that Mark Lee became your partner among a hundred students is beyond you. Absolutely beyond you. 

He nears your screen, reading the content of your project, eyes squinted—you’d noticed his lack of decent eyesight years ago, but it seemingly hadn’t improved. “Relate the stages of grief…hold up, what? That’s difficult as hell. What are we supposed to do, lose a loved one?” You roll your eyes, turning to him. “No, Mark. The point is to find another process that happens gradually and relate it to this—denial, bargaining, anger. Get it?”

He stares back at you. “No.”

You groan audibly, turning back to your notebook. “This is impossible. Can we just switch partners so I won’t have to deal with you?” He smirks, kicking his feet up on the library table. Absently, you note how nice his sneakers look. Reclining onto the seat, he shuts his eyes as if to contemplate. 

“I heard through the birdvine our professor’s the type to pair up people she thinks would look good together for shits and giggles. Girls and boys, boys and boys, you name it. Johnny”—he’s referring to a guy who’s a year above yours, studying Biology—“tells me over five couples have been born out of this class. Isn’t that nice?” You scoff, scrolling mindlessly through the slides to keep yourself distracted. 

“It really is. A shame we won’t be adding to that list, because I can’t fucking stand you.” He laughs loudly, the vibration of it remaining in the deadly silent air. “I can stand fucking you, though,” he says, and then, before you can even blush, “All jokes. Don’t get your hopes up, ‘kay?” He’s quick to get up, just as flustered as you are at the uncharacteristic phrase that just left his mouth. He collects his jacket and jogs out of the library with a small, half-assed bye under his breath.

—

Lia’s eyes bore into yours. “He actually said that? I’m telling you, he’s some weird kinky guy under that whole cool geek persona. High school Mark would never have. Oh my god. He’s a furry—he’s a furry!” She flops back onto your bed, laughing. You poke at her waist in protest. 

“It’s because he’s surrounded by too many weird classy fuckboys. You know, those that think that they’re all that because they haven’t roofied a girl.” You’re half-joking, and you’re really only referring to maybe two guys you’ve happened to see Mark with. As if to read your mind, Lia continues. “Hey, I heard some of them are okay. They’re not, like…those ‘nice guys’, if you get me.”

“I do,” you quip. “But I guess I’m just trying to find a way to justify the whole 360 in Mark. I mean, in high school, he was still nerdy—well, you know. Shy. But jump to sophomore year of uni and he’s suddenly some…” You rack your head for a proper term. “Sex god?” your friend asks, holding in a laugh. “Oh, eat shit,” you fire back, “really, eat shit. And while you’re at it, feed me some, too, because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to turn in at the end of the term. Like, Jes—”

There’s a faint knock at the door, and then. “Lia? It’s—uh, it’s me, Daniel? Er, Daniel Choi.” Your wide eyes can’t possibly match Lia’s as she tugs on a decent-looking pullover and puts it on. As she swings the door open, you manage to sufficiently hide yourself under your duvet and attempt to hear their conversation. 

“You know, it’s okay if you leave out the whole…saying your full name at the door part. Trust me…I know you,” she jokes, and you hear him laugh before you detect the crinkling of a plastic bag. “Chinese. Uh, I bought some extra for your best friend, because I’m not gonna pretend I don’t see the sentient blob on the bed.”

You pull the blanket off and smile sheepishly. “Hey, Daniel,” you say, “thanks for the food. I owe you an empty room next time, I swear by it. It’ll be easy, since I’m gonna be”—you heave yourself off the bed and onto the floor, where they’re both sitting—“holed up at the library for the next few weeks.” 

Lia nods, chewing her chow mein, and then when she’s done, she explains to Daniel your whole huge Psychology end-of-term paper about stages and grief and whatever, oh also she’s partnered with Mark Lee, this guy that we both know from high school, and she dislikes his guts, oh you know him? 

“Wait. You know him?” You repeat, and Daniel nods, ruffling his black mullet. “His room’s, like, three away from mine. He’s studying Theoretical Physics, right? Yeah, he’s always in his room doing school shit, but every weekend he’s out with the upperclassmen. He’s probably out now, ‘cause it’s Friday. How he even charmed them, though, is a mystery.”

Mid-dumpling, you roll your eyes. “Y’know, the hardest part is being partnered with him. But also, even finding what kind of gradual process to relate denial and anger too is weirdly hard. It feels like I could find something, but I haven’t gotten it…quite…” you trail off, your eyes landing on Lia and Daniel across you—they’re smiling softly at each other, and you distinguish their fingers interlocking quietly, as if you wouldn’t notice. 

“…yet. Except maybe I have. How would you want to participate in my end-of-term paper?” Their gazes turn to yours, and you nod frantically. “Oh my god, I’m a genius! Seriously! Falling in love! Yes! It’s denial—anger—whatever, whatever! It makes perfect sense. The end is acceptance, too! Oh god, Li, it’s perfect. I will owe you for life if you help me out.”

“Wait, what? You dove straight into it, what—recap, please,” Lia asks, and you compose yourself before explaining giddily. 

“Falling in love. It happens gradually, and we can compare it to the stages of grief. Seeing as you and Daniel are headed right there, we can use you as some test subjects. It’s not required to have respondents or subjects, really, it’s just an extensive paper, but it might help get the grade up. This is gonna be great, and if you ever wanna back out, you can, because it’s not mandatory.” Lia and Daniel meet eyes briefly, and then slowly, nod. “Okay, that’s pretty smart,” Daniel says, “I’m up for it. Are you?” Lia nods, slowly and hesitantly, and you smile widely. “You two just saved my Psych grade. I’ll be at Giselle’s tonight. Just…not on my bed.” You grab your keys and phone and bound out of your room, straight into the elevator at the end of the hall.

The elevator door nearly closes when a Converse-clad foot steps in, and your eyes rake up the figure, eventually landing on his face. 

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble, “you must be kidding me.” 

Mark enters the elevator with a small, teasing smile, hands tucked into his jacket’s pockets. “Hey, dude, what’s up? Was on your floor on my stop down to get some money Lucas owed me,” he says, “this is actually a godsend, because my genius brain found us a project idea. Relate grief to something else gradual? Easy as pie. Falling in lo—” 

You cut him off before he can finish, “Falling in love, right. I thought of it first, earlier,” you say profusely, absently noting the pettiness in your tone. He whistles. “No need to get all possessive over an idea the previous classes have used before, man.” You continue, ignoring him. “Whatever. Lucky for our grades, I went the extra mile to get us some test subjects. Do you know the two Chois? Lia and Daniel?” 

He nods once, “Yeah, their PDA on Instagram is fucking sickening, but I see your technique, and I like that—we get some extra data from their god awful PDA.” You nod once, and he continues. “It’s nearing 11 on a Friday night. Whose party are you headed to?”

“You’re welcome for the test subjects,” you gripe. “Anyway, I was so giddy about coming up with it, I just left them to…well, fornicate. As a compromise for being lab rats. I texted my…” you realize you’re starting to share too much to a guy you typically dislike talking to, and then there’s a silence in the air that’s painfully awkward. 

“You texted your…?” Mark asks. “My friend, but she’ll be home at 1AM, so I’m out to kill time. No parties, just…I dunno.” He nods again, and then the elevator lets out a blissful ding. You step out simultaneously, and then he faces you. “Look, it’s freezing out, you’re in shorts and a puffer coat, and it’s three hours to 1AM, so I doubt you’ll get far.” You scoff at his words despite feeling your legs shake from the breeze outside. “I’ll be fine, dumbass.”

“Just concerned,” he says, in a tone that sounds more blank than annoyed, but he turns and heads toward the door anyway. He swivels back around briefly. “It’s in Johnny’s apartment. Just a couple people, if you get bored freezing.” He jogs outside then, and you inwardly appreciate the small gesture, but again, annoyance returns just as quickly. You linger a bit before heading out yourself, walking briskly to a local Japanese restaurant. You consider this an opportunity to have some me time, some rest after a shitty week in university. Lasting ’til 1AM alone and entertained would not at all be a problem. 

You last one ramen bowl and head to Johnny’s apartment.

—

When Johnny Suh answers the door, he’s clad in a makeshift shower curtain gown of sorts, and is flushed and very buzzed all over. He hikes up the top to cover his chest and laughs profusely. “Did Mark invite you?” Behind him is a sizeable group of just about twenty people, which looks like forty in a cramped communal space. You’d been here before—Johnny likes to invite just about anyone to get stoned and listen to Kid Cudi on Fridays, and you had pushed Lia to accompany you before. 

You distantly spot the kitchenette, the small living room, and then the two bedroom doors opposing each other. “The rule was to show up wearing something not marketed as clothing, but Mark didn’t follow the rules, so. Anyway, you’re off scot-free, too…” he pauses, “…if you take off the puffer coat. We’ve got heating, anyway. Free booze and weed, too.” You figure being in a flimsy tank top isn’t so bad—you’re sure half the people here are already getting laid or trying to, and nobody would really pay attention to you.

You shrug off the coat as Johnny steps aside to let you in, hugging it close to your body and navigating your way to the kitchen. The granite counters are filled with various bottles of booze, and you also note the cigarettes and blunts lining the island. You peruse the brands before settling on a sealed can of decidedly not-so-cheap-looking beer, and crack it open to take a swig. It’s warm and fucking disgusting, but there’s not much glitz in an “anything but clothing” off-campus college party anyway. 

There are several people scattered among the living area, passing around a blunt—another group is playing suck and blow. You make your way over to the cheap couch on the far end of the room, taking a seat on the arm and stretching out your hand to claim the blunt. It’s Jae who passes it to you—Jaehyun Jung, an upperclassman whose infamy (for wearing nothing but toilet paper and running through campus) greatly surpasses him. “Who are you?” he asks, and you holler your name back over the Kanye West song playing in the background. “Mark invited me,” you tack onto the end as compensation.

He nods in understanding, watching you take a drag and pass it back to him. He only hands it back, saying, “It’s nearly done, just finish it,” and getting up to probably get some booze or another blunt. 

You scan the area for a better place to cherish your weed, because you’re definitely not going to do it on the arm of a couch housing three couples making out to the high heavens. You spot an open window and a fire escape just beside the kitchen and walk over, ducking into the cool night air. It’s not quiet, it never is, and you treasure the peace that comes with the noise, closing your eyes and trying to milk the last few drags. All that is flushed down the drain when somebody kicks you out of your reverie and your last two drags are falling down, through the grills of the fire escape. 

“What the fuck?” You look up to meet, of course, Mark’s gaze, teasing and mischievous. 

“That wasn’t fucking funny, asshat. Get away from me.” You get up instantly, ducking back into the house and searching for your coat. It’s (very unfortunately) buried under a couple who have escalated from making out to borderline public indecency.

“Fuck it,” you mumble, swinging the door open and mentally preparing yourself for the cold once you get to the sidewalk, floors down. Mark follows suit, a laugh gracing the atmosphere around the two of you. “You know, I forgot how fun it is to make you pissed off. I did it all the time in eighth grade when I told our teacher you knew the solution to the Physics problems.” You’re fucking pissed. However petty, you’re fucking annoyed that you couldn’t finish the blunt, and you pay no attention to him. 

He badgers on anyway. “Hey—it was a mistake, I wanted to say hi to you.” You scoff, finally turning—“Why? Because we’re friends? We’re not. We’re Psych partners, we came from the same high school, we share a couple mutual friends. But you and I are not friends, not objectively, anyway. Please, Mark. I only just re-acquainted myself with you today, but, like, you’re already so annoying!” You’re at the elevator now, and when the doors slide open, you step inside and let them close at once. You barely catch the unreadable look on his face in your annoyance, and you lean against the wall, shutting your eyes and breathing heavily. 

How you’d even get to Giselle’s, or how you would wait out the remaining half-hour before she got home, was just up to whichever higher power happened to be witnessing you that night.

—

The door of your professor’s office closes with a saddening click. You stare back at her name, embossed on the wood in bold, in defeat, accepting your fate with a heavy heart. Just fifteen minutes prior, you had entered with a whole spiel prepared on how you just had to swap with somebody from your class so you wouldn’t have to work with Mark. This speech had occurred twice now—with your TA, and then once with your professor. This was your second chance, your redemption: so you prepared notes, you prepared convincing words—you had a point. 

But your professor simply shooed you away, muttering how she didn’t have time for you because she was going to be receiving hundreds of papers in a few weeks’ time from a different class and she, quite honestly, couldn’t be bothered. You bite your lip, thinking back to the previous Friday—it was nearing two weeks since your small outburst at Mark. Since then, you’d expected to build a silent rapport of just working, observing Lia and Daniel, and then parting. And that was almost it. You would show up to your so-called “lab rat sessions”, cup of warm caramel latte in hand, and work. 

Except Mark would constantly make noise, jeer, swipe your pen, and do other things that got on your nerves.

“You’re going to have to stop trying sometime,” Lia says, backhugging you. She’d been waiting outside. You let your head loll back onto her shoulder and whine. “Do you know when you’re so frustrated you want to cry? Yeah? That’s exactly how it is, Li. I can’t keep up with this for another two, three months. It’s like he’s not even, like, fuck, like he’s not even trying, y’know? We’re building the foundation of a pages-long paper. This isn’t some finals essay he can bullshit in three hours.” 

You groan as Lia pulls away from you, whirling you around to face her. “It’ll be fine, I swear to you. I’ll help out, anytime you need it. I promise. If I start hating Daniel, I’ll even pretend like I’m in love with him. Head over heels.” You let yourself laugh and pull out your phone as you two begin to walk towards your dorm.

She tsks. “We’re gonna have a thing tonight, right? Like, a lab rat session?”

You nod, squinting over your calendar app. “Yeah, at around 5:30 to 6. It’ll be quick, but Mark and I are gonna have to stay behind to divide the work for the general paper and then start. Hopefully we can get some outlining done by tonight…so don’t wait up,” you sigh. She smiles apologetically, pinching your waist affectionately. 

“Daniel and I will totally help you. He’s a Mark anti now. I told him about the party outburst thing.” You had sent her a slew of texts that night, and like every other story you had told (save for the most private ones), Daniel had caught wind of it. You’re half sure he was capable of blackmailing you at that point. “Good,” you shoot back, “I’m going to need all the anti-Mark force I can get.”

“Why?” You both turn to see Mark standing idly behind you. There’s a beat, and then: “You look like an inane stalker,” you retort, turning to continue walking. Lia follows suit—with the two of you, the vibe of the atmosphere would always come easy. If one was mad, the other would act mad, too. 

“Hey,” Mark repeats, falling into step beside you, “why do you need an anti-Mark force? Tell me.” At this point, your nerves are on fire and your blood is boiling, and you’re beginning to envision beating him up on the quad. “Mark, it’s been great, but we’re going to our dorm, and in case you don’t want to catch a restraining order, I suggest you get off at your floor instead of following us like a creep,” you say sweetly, quickening your steps until he’s far behind you, smiling. Fucking asshole. 

“I’ll see ya this evening, then,” he teases, and you grumble under your breath.

—

It’s 5:45 when Lia and Daniel leave the library—fifteen minutes early. You and Mark leave ten minutes later, hours before you were supposed to complete your task. You’re fuming, and for once, Mark has the decency to read the room and feel remorse. 

The evening had started off well enough, though—Lia and Daniel had showed up, did their thing, described what was happening, and you and Mark had noted it down. And then, well. Mark spilled water all over your planner, which, in hindsight, was definitely unintentional, but in the spur of the moment, you could do nothing but your natural—everybody’s natural—response to getting something precious ruined. You began to cry. “What the fuck,” you sniffled, “is wrong with you?!” You had shaken the majority of water off your planner, but any and all dates had been smudged and bled, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him. “I know I called you annoying, but this is too far,” you had said, watching his face go from teasing to genuinely sorry. “Dude, it was accidenta—” 

“I don’t give a fuck—!” You quickly cut yourself off and wipe your tears when you see a young library assistant heading towards your table. Everybody composes themselves—Lia and Daniel straighten out the things on the surface and Mark sits up straight. “Hey,” he says. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but two students already came in with a noise complaint. We’re gonna have to ask you to,” he makes a gesture, “leave for now and come back tomorrow. Also, the puddle on the table…yeah. I’m really sorry.” He leaves, as if to make sure you have no other choice but to just go, and you slump back onto your chair in exhaustion. 

“You two can go ahead,” you hear Mark say, “I’m really sorry about this. We’ll clean up and apologize.” Faintly, you hear them get up, and you feel Lia’s hand squeeze yours as she promises a text and food later. You let your eyes remain shut, drinking in the quiet, trying to calm your inner turmoil.

Ten minutes later, when you’re out in the cold November air, Mark finally speaks. You had cleaned up and collected your things in silence. “I’m really sorry,” he says, “it was an accident, for real. I know I tease a lot, but, uh, I’m being serious. I would never have done that on purpose. I see you write shit on that thing a lot, so…I know how much you like it. Treasure it…? I don’t—whatever it is, I’m really sorry. Like, really. T’was an accident. If you need me to pay for it…” You shake your head softly, hugging your damp planner closer to your sweater-clad chest. “It’s okay. Thanks, anyway. For helping. I’ll email you what you have to do. Bye,” you turn and begin walking in the direction of your dorm. The sun is beginning to set, golden orange hues casting a vast array of colors onto the landscape of the city. You sigh softly, heart heavy with annoyance and exhaustion, and speed up before you start having a mini-breakdown.

—

Stage 1: Denial|

Your cursor blinks back at you as you finish typing in your outline for the introduction. It’s early into November, but already, you’ve had to shut your window to shielf yourself from the biting breeze outside. Across you, Lia applies mascara and talks to you. “What are you up to?” she asks, face contorted. 

“This godforsaken paper,” you mumble back, “just finished the introduction outline. I’m trying to give a loose definition for each gradual ‘stage.’” Shoving your Macbook off your lap, you get up to stretch. “Which I’ll probably find on Google Scholar, honestly. If you had to give me a definition—what’s denial?” 

She hums contemplatively, wand on lash, and then pipes up. “I think it’s just a stage where you can’t face the fact that you’re interested in that person. Like, why them? With Daniel, he wasn’t really my type. So the whole denial was denying I liked him, because…well, yeah. But I think it differs. Some people deny it because they’re shy, or ashamed, or weirded out that they even like them.”

You’ve had your fair share of crushes before, and sure enough, you had denied them all. But that was high school—college, though, had only brought short-lived flings and one night stands; you were an overachiever, much too committed to your own prosperity to pay mind to anybody else for too long. (Except Lia.) So you hadn’t really experienced the whole boyfriend-in-university thing—not that you particularly wanted to, but you were just human; you were curious. Lia had gotten it, and it looked wonderful. 

Speaking of—“So, a week without meeting Mark in person, huh? How is that going for you?” You scoff lightly, shaking your head as you pull your hair into a bun. “It’s going just fine. Dandy, actually. We work from our dorms and you and Daniel just update us. It’s a fine arrangement that I regret was not formulated sooner.” Lia nods in understanding, and you watch her pull on a top, mutter I’m out and head outside. For the fifth time this week, you’re alone in the dorm, with nothing but your Alexa playing SZA and your laptop. You pull it onto your lap again, staring at the boldface letters you had typed minutes prior: denial. You had no firsthand experience of being mature and going through denial; not in that way, anyway. You found it stupid that people even denied when it would be less painful to just admit interest.

You blow a raspberry as you research studies related to the term, bored out of your mind.

—

Two days later, you meet Mark again. 

You’d also had the pleasure of, for a minute or two, meeting a friend of his, Donghyuck Lee from Economics. He’s loud and amusing and, from your viewpoint, undeserving of somebody as boring as Mark. (That’s from a minute-long intercation.) 

At Lia’s insistence (and likely Daniel’s, too), you two met up to properly work and collaborate. In fear of being kicked out again, the four of you had chosen to meet somewhere else—a cafe off-campus affectionately named something along the lines of Saltwater Coffee. Naturally, after Donghyuck leaves, you find yourself sitting idly (awkwardly) beside Mark. “They won’t be long,” he says suddenly, “er, Daniel just texted me. They’re near.” You nod, pursing your lips, eyes trained onto your laptop. “We’re almost done formulating the denial stage and we can start outlining anger and bargaining. This’ll take about a week more—maybe mid to late November? Uh, I know it seems justifiable to slack off with the holidays,” you say, “but I really want us to finish this early. The due date’s in mid-February, so we can pass this on the 14th.” You turn to face him. “Get it? ‘Cause it’s Valentine’s Day.”

He nods. “Okay. No slacking. I get it. The Valentine’s is smart, too.” You nod back in silent understanding, turning back to type frantically into your keyboard. 

You hear the door jingle and Lia’s small “hey, guys”, so you look up and offer a smile. “I’m gonna go order everyone some coffee,” Mark says beside you, getting up and shuffling over to the counter. Daniel joins him, and Lia takes a seat across you, her smile knowing and apologetic. “Everything okay?” You blow a raspberry, but smile, anyway. “It’s not so bad. It could be better, but no more banter, just very annoyed auras…? You get it. It’s just been tough trying to divert my focus to this and ignore all the annoyance I feel.”

“Totally, I get that,” she says, “but all the same, I’m glad he’s matured a little bit and lessened all the ribbing.” You smile at that, agreeing, and then the conversation spirals into one about both of your days—“Professor Callahan totally pops a stiffy over Professor Michaelson”, “Daniel tells me Joshua cheated. Yes, on Jess!”, “Mia dropped out the other day and nobody knows why, hope she’s okay”—before Daniel and Mark return, coffee cups in hand. Mark places one next to you, and profusely, you look up at him, who’s just about to sit. 

“Thanks, but I don’t drink brewed coff—”

“It’s a caramel latte, the only thing you drink. Heard you say that to Lia once.” He takes a seat and pulls his laptop open. 

You stare at him, taking the cup and bringing it to your lips. Sure enough, it’s caramel—thick, and foamy, and sweet. You look up at him again, but he’s busy on Google Scholar, perusing through journals and studies. You shake your head before turning to Lia, who’s already looking at you, expression mirroring yours. 

Sweet, she mouths, but you purse your lips and choose not to acknowledge it. “Thanks,” you say quietly, and he hums to say you’re welcome. 

Your eyes flicker to him. He’s wearing a knitted sweater, but he’s pulled it up to his elbows. He’s typing quickly, and he can use all his fingers, too (you fail miserably at that), and his brows are furrowed as if he’s stressed, or in a hurry. You’ve never really noticed this much of Mark before. It’s probably, you think absently, because you’re confused. Puzzled at the gesture that you didn’t expect—at all.

After an hour, he angles his laptop to yours. “Nailed the intro. High five?” You open the Google doc on your own browser, and sure enough, the word count has increased monumentally. You can’t deny his knack for writing. “There are a few discrepancies in grammar,” you say instead. “But…okay. This is good.” You ignore his hand, in mid-air, and continue researching. 

Lia holds in a giggle, but turns back to Daniel, who, after fifteen minutes, turns to you and Mark. “Lia and I are heading out, guys,” he says, and Lia quickly tacks on. “Hey, if you need me to stay, I can,” she says quickly, but you smile and shake your head. 

“This might take a while. Go ahead. See ya at the dorm, Li. Bye, Daniel.” Mark bids his farewells, too, and they leave you alone in the cafe. It’s nearing a three hour crunch when he abruptly gets up to stretch, a low grunt leaving his lips. “I’m exhausted,” he sighs, “but at least we’re nearly done with this whole denial thing.”

“We’re actually only just starting,” you state, “this is going to go through a lot of editing and proofreading.” 

He chuckles and walks back to the counter to order something, and you shut your laptop to rest your eyes. Your glasses rest uncomfortably on the bridge of your nose as you breathe deeply. You lose track of time, and you open your eyes ten minutes later, fumbling to get up properly. There’s a panini beside your laptop, wrapped neatly in a tissue and laid on a plate. Mark’s is empty, save for crumbs, and he says nothing. 

“Get up,” he remarks teasingly after a while, and you groan in exhaustion. “I am, I’m up,” you mutter, straightening your back and flexing your neck. Inwardly, you wonder if you should thank him for the panini that is obviously yours that you obviously did not buy for yourself. 

Then Mark’s hand stretches out to take the panini, and he takes a bite. “Sorry,” he says, “I had to put my second sandwich in your space. This table’s a little small.” You hum back in acknowledgement, nodding once. “It’s, uh…all good,” you respond, voice small as you type into your laptop. Internally, your body fills slowly with humiliation and confusion, but you stay quiet, and that’s how the rest of the night goes: a silent, steady beat of keyboard clicking and the occasional question. 

No banter, no nothing—it’s a godsend, yes, it is, but you can’t help but miss the abrasive, playful conversations the two of you had built up over the previous several weeks. But really—had you truly assumed he had bought you a panini? As if a coffee wasn’t enough? You felt at odds with yourself for even expecting such a gesture from the guy whose main habit was to annoy you to the ends of the Earth.

“It’s late,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind and knowing you’re absolutely mortified inside. “Let’s head home.” You nod, deeming the night’s work satisfactory—maybe even beyond, considering the amount of effort you both put into the output. You shove your laptop and charger into your bag and pocket your phone, lingering awkwardly and waiting for Mark to finish packing up. He’s particular with it—he has little sections in his backpack for the wires and chargers, and even his AirPods, and his laptop. 

“Very organized,” you find yourself commenting offhandedly, your tone taking on a teasing edge. He glares playfully back at you. 

“Sorry I don’t want my wires to break,” he shoots back, eyeing your flimsy tote bag, “unlike some people.” You roll your eyes and, against your strongest wills, a smile appears on your lips, albeit a small one. His eyes linger on your smile for a little bit before he clears his throat and zips up his knapsack. “Let’s, er, go. Thank Jesus we’re in the same building.” When you exit, the air bites at you despite the jacket covering your body, and you quicken your pace. “It’s cold as hell.”

“Ironic,” Mark says. You hide a smile.

—

That’s what November brings you—the next week and a half are composed of just slowly learning to get used to working with Mark again and going home late into the night, crunching to the max. 

Your paper begins to take on more and more structure, and two out of the six days you’ve met, Mark has set down a caramel latte for you to arrive to. The acoustic music slowly phases into holiday guitar, and the coat rack at the entrance is weighed down more and more as the days pass, preparing to welcome December. 

You and Mark work silently, save for the rare banter and eyeroll, and very gradually, the annoyance that had bubbled up within seconds before had sank down. You’re not friends, per se—it’s just that the frustration and exasperation had lessened considerably. 

You were civil. That’s it. You won’t try to deny that you’ve been thinking about this a little too much—about what your “friendship” had become with Mark. You hadn’t snapped at him in days, and he hadn’t tugged at your ballpen in even longer. It wasn’t that you had cowered him into silence by crying over your planner—it may have instigated it, but his behavior was…different. 

More calm, more sure. Less childish. He would still tease you, but not as much. It’s nearing mid-November now, and you’ve successfully done much of your introduction and denial, needing less and less of Lia and Daniel’s presence. (Which you’re sure they’re grateful for.) But being left alone with Mark isn’t as bad as you once thought—

“Hello. Earth to you,” you distantly hear, and you whip your head in the direction of the voice as you pace back to your dorm building. Mark stares blankly back at you. “What,” you mumble back. He quirks a brow before continuing. “I was saying, I think I need to take a rain check tomorrow. The, uh”—he clears his throat—“um, yeah.”

You eye him. “Okay…?”

He nods profusely, “Yeah, all good.” The walk continues in silence, the sun finally setting down behind the Manhattan skyline beyond you and the breeze taking on a chillier temperature. You sigh softly, fatigue overtaking you as you stare at the building nearing you. “If you take a rain check, just make sure you write it within the day or after,” you say, half-sternly and half-tiredly. He mumbles a “got it” and you both jog up the steps to the lobby, where you run into, by some weird twist of the day, a small group of anti-abortion protesters.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark mutters under his breath. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You rub the bridge of your nose in your fingers, choosing to tune them out and instead maneuver your way through the door. Before you can even take a step, though, they’re all up in your face with pamphlets and brochures and a guitar. “Excuse me,” you grunt, trying to gently push them aside, but they only come on stronger. “A child is a child,” they say. “If you know anybody who’s—”

“Is this your new initiative? Preying on college students on school grounds, unaccounted for?” Mark asks from behind you. You turn to find he’s filming and stifle a laugh. “I’m surprised nobody’s kicked you out. Won’t be long, now,” he adds with a smile. 

You tune out nearly everything else—it’s really just them telling Mark to stop recording and him retorting with equally snarky phrases. It’s not until maybe after a solid two minutes of back and forth that one of them, a weird middle-aged woman, pulls out a burgundy gummy bear from a bag and pushes it into Mark’s camera. He takes it from her and examines it, puzzled. “That,” she says matter-of-factly, “is the approximate size of a fetus. It’s big. It’s sentient, alive. What, I beg of you, what would you do?”

Mark squints at it. Then he pops it into his mouth, takes your hand, and runs straight to the elevator across the floor. 

“There’s a bunch of anti-abortion people outside, it’s not cool!” He hollers to the receptionist before the doors close with a damning click. 

There’s a beat, and then.

Both of you are doubling over in laughter. “Why the hell would y—why would you do that?! You’re insane!” The response is: “Because they’re not cool! They’re fuckin’ annoying! So I ate their baby!” There are tears in your eyes, your laughter so hard it’s nearing silent—Mark’s, though, is loud and annoying sounding, though you seem to not mind so much. The laughter subsides when the ding of your floor sounds and you straighten yourself up. Getting into a different position reminds you of the very there, very obvious brushing of your hand against Mark’s, which he’d taken just moments earlier, post-baby eating.

You freeze and jerk your hand away. “I’ll, um, go now,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorr—no, the day after.” Against your wills, you meet his eyes, and you’re surprised to find that he’s already looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Okay,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Your heart beats faster at a very small increment, but you head out and semi-run to your room, swinging it open and leaning against it. 

You look up to find Lia and Daniel engaged in a heated Monopoly match. You make no noise, mind (and heart, but you can’t tell why) racing fast. You watch them play for a second before they both look up slowly.

“You’re smiling like a goddamn idiot,” Daniel says. Your face falls immediately. “I’m, um, no I’m not,” you say casually, pacing over to your bed and flopping onto it. Lia laughs loudly. 

“That sounded so freaked. Like we’re your mom and you just brought weed home kind of freaked.” Pause. 

“Are you hiding something from me?” She rises from her spot to look at you, head in pillow and all, and you let out a muffled “no!”, probably too defensive for your own good. 

It’s Daniel’s turn to snort. You look up and glare at him, “You’re getting too comfortable for your own good. You need to humble yourself, Daniel. What’s it again? Oh yeah, Yeonjun, right?” He rolls his eyes at the use of his Korean name and turns back to the Monopoly board.

Lia flops atop you, eliciting a grunt from your lips. “Are you okay? Did somebody flirt with you? Did Mark finally fuck off and leave you alone properly?” 

At the mention of Mark, your heart races—you will it to stop, and audibly groan in the process. “What is it, you bitch?” Lia asks, tugging on a section of your hair. “It’s nothing, Li! Nothing, I promise.” She glares at you before walking to Daniel and covering his ears. Instantly, he begins to let out a chorus of Lalala, and deeming the environment safe enough, you let it slip.

“Mark and I held hands. But it—”

“You what?!”

“It really, really doesn’t mean anyth—”

“How can that not mean anything? It’s hand holdi—”

“If you would listen to the backstory you’d know!” She pauses, and then uncovers Daniel’s ears and knees him. 

“Okay, get out. Monopoly postponed, Jun,” she says, pushing him out insistently. He barely collects his phone and keys before he’s out, but you swoon silently when you catch him pressing a short goodbye kiss to her forehead before actually leaving. She turns immediately, fire and curiosity awfully evident in her face. 

She nears you. “Explain.” 

And that’s what sparks the story of the weird protesters, Mark’s power move, and the unintentional hand hold that lasted a few moments too long. She nods the entire time, laughing, and then her face straightens out again. You can almost hear the gears in her head turning as she analyzes the situation, and then she nods once. 

“Okay. Perfectly justifiable to freak out.” Another pause. “But why were you smiling?” You stare blankly back at her, head working impossibly quick to formulate a reply. You’ve taken too long now, judging by the way Lia is looking at you with the most shit-eating grin on her fucking face. You groan.

“You like him, you bitch!” 

You shake your head, facing her. “I don’t, dude. Trust me. I just…it was a fun experience, so naturally I’d be laughing. And smiling. But I’m just not interested in Mark! I’m not,” you fumble, being completely honest. 

You didn’t—not even if you looked in the mirror and asked yourself. But you couldn’t deny the feelings you felt in the ten seconds from the elevator to your room, your heart racing and your fist curling and uncurling. When you look at Lia again, she’s still smiling, flushed. “You like him,” she says into her palm, which she’s slapped over her mouth in disbelief. You stare back at her, your expression baffled. “If I did,” you begin, getting up to discard your shirt, “I’d have told you by now. It’s really not that big of a deal unless you make it out to be.”

After that, you and Mark spend nearly three weeks walking on eggshells around each other. While conversations are no longer avoided, and you could talk without getting exasperated or too embarrassed, finger brushes are frequent, and eye contact only makes you extremely nervous. You had worked until the second stage—anger—already, but you’d still been polishing the denial and introduction. Considering November wasn’t over and the paper was due February, you figured you were moving at an okay pace. Besides, a lot of your friends hadn’t even begun.

—

There are two instances where you rush home, mortified beyond belief.

The first when when you struck up a conversation with the cute, Australian barista. Scrawled in big penmanship on his name tag is Chan. You had brought up, in passing, how often you’re at the cafe and how you probably deserve a free drink. He replied with a low hum, and you dialed down your flirty tone, slightly embarrassed. But not really. You’ve rejected plenty of people before. It’s when you’re already paying for your drink that he replied, handing you your (for a change) iced matcha with a small grin. 

“I’d have flirted with you weeks ago if you didn’t have your boyfriend with you all the time. He’s always buying you your drinks.” You spluttered for a good second, staring at him incredulously. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you finally said. 

He had shrugged, nonchalant. “He sure as hell looks at you a lot for someone you’re not dating. And you do it just as much, if not more. I’m observant, by the way. Not a stalker.” You had taken your cup and paced over to the other end of the cafe, sat across Mark, cheeks heated.

He looked up, brow raised. You shook your head.

The second time was when Donghyuck graced you both with his presence. You quickly found out that he was a magnetic presence and you both shared similar interests. The energy you both created was both amusing and annoying to Mark. 

Although you kept quiet mostly, you enabled Donghyuck’s incessant teasing, which annoyed Mark to the ends of the Earth. “You’re a dork. Isn’t he?” You look up and nod with a smile. Mark rolls his eyes, sending Donghyuck into a laughing frenzy. Mark just grunts and continues typing.

Hyuck had made a joke about how two Physics textbooks discussed why the sad man named Mark owns two of them and didn’t have a life, and you laughed. 

You didn’t usually laugh, not around Mark, at least, since it was safe to say you didn’t have any source of entertainment in such a boring guy. But you laughed at the witty joke, and Donghyuck, without thinking much, had said in passing: “Mark, I guess you’re right about everything about her being pretty.”

Mark said nothing, typing. You said nothing. Nobody said anything, not even a sly Donghyuck or, from the counter, an even slyer Chan.

—

When you see Mark next, it’s three days later, and it’s, for the second time, in Johnny’s apartment. 

Lia had asked if you wanted to tag along, and you found no harm in going. (“You’re going because Mark is” becomes Lia’s favorite phrase of the night, so much it’s spread to Daniel, who you’d succumbed to and spilled everything to hours prior.) The walk there has something boiling low in your gut and you’re quiet, in fear you might end up vomiting in nerves or saying something stupid. Lia teases you, but her hand clasping yours reassures you, and you squeeze it tightly. 

You get there late—it’s past 1AM, and you have a sense of deja vu walking into the cramped space. It’s fuller this time—people are creeping into the bedrooms to smoke in private or do some other things, but suffice to say it’s crowded as fuck.

“Want a drink?” Lia hollers, and you nod over the music. Johnny’s neighbor is another upperclassman named Doyoung, though he’s mainly referred to as Doie by just about everybody around him.

You’ve seen his girlfriend call him bunny a few times, though you’ve long desired to repress that memory. 

Judging by the fact that you can faintly hear a different song from the next room, the party has probably extended to Doyoung’s. There’s quite a gathering this week—the rich freshman who you’d befriended once before, Chenle, and his horde of friends are here; from Lia, who hands you a drink, you learn that Kun and Sicheng, two incredibly attractive juniors, are here, too—in Doie’s, though. The party only intensifies, which is hard, because Johnny’s apartment is very tiny.

Eventually, you find yourself in the bathroom, smoking a joint you’d grabbed out of the clammy hands of a tipsy Chenle and kicking a couple out under the guise that you’re Johnny’s cousin. Chenle had protested but eventually given in, pulling a new one out of his pocket.

The bathroom light is white and harsh, but there’s a very funky lamp at the corner. From your place inside the dry (and thankfully clean…looking) bathtub, you eye it. It’s a tall one in the shape of a glass of margarita. 

You heave yourself up and find the switch, and then when it’s on, you giggle at the green light emitting from it. You have absolutely no idea why Johnny, Jaehyun, or their roommate Jungwoo (3J, as some call them) have a decorative, margarita-shaped green lamp, and in their bathroom nonetheless, but you shut off the main light and return to smoking your blunt. Deciding your ass aches far too much, you lean against the tile wall and cherish the smoke.

The door opens abruptly, and you curse, pushing it back closed. 

“I have explosive diarrhea,” you say robotically, using the same excuse you did for the previous three couples that showed up. 

From the other side, you hear a shrill laugh and sound of confusion. When you peer over the other side and see Mark, you groan and laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I saw you come in. Like, twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m cherishing the party privately.”

Mark ushers himself into the dark space and shuts the door. He makes a show of locking it, as if to show you it’s possible to do so. The sound of it locking sends a wave of nerves up your spine. 

“I didn’t lock it in case a medical emergency happens and they have to rush inside.” 

Mark quirks his brow. “I doubt they would think to go inside the restroom and not panic and call 911, you know.” 

You shrug in indifference and take another drag, reluctantly offering it to him.

He takes it, and you pause for a second to observe him. His hair, dark, and which usually covers his entire forehead like a broom or at least parts in the middle slightly, is now styled differently. 

He’s in a fitting black shirt and blue jeans, and, upon your closer inspection, silver rings adorn his fingers. You will yourself to look down. It’s dark. “What’s that you’re holding?” You ask instead, trying not to extend your stare at his shoulders.

“Your puffer coat,” he says, tossing it to you. “Left it last time.”

“That time when you annoyed the shit out of me, right,” you retort.

“Yes, exactly that time. That was ages ago. Weeks ago. Look at us now.”

“Us now—what, still disliking each other?”

He laughs humorlessly, but doesn’t entertain you further. He turns to the lamp instead. “Do you know I was there when they moved this in,” he begins, gesturing to it, “Jae got it at some weird, awful flea market, and he had to buy some extra wiring to fix it or whatever. I was doing Physics homework. It was at the start of this school year. And I bet you didn’t know…” he bends down and reaches to the base of the lamp, pressing a button, “that it changes color.”

The room is bathed in red now, and you swallow. “Interesting,” you manage to say, despite the racing in your head. “Very,” he responds, taking a step closer to you. You gaze up at him. He’s tall. You breathe softly. You nod in agreement. You don’t know what to do. You want to punch him and kiss him and leave all at once. 

You want to kiss him, oh God, you want to kiss him.

“Oh God,” you say softly, out loud. Oh fuck. Too much weed?

He inches closer, leaving the blunt on the rim of the sink. “Why?” He smiles a little and you smile back, nervous. He’s so close now, and he smells so good—like cologne and laundry and weed. You shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble back.

He’s even closer now, eyes boring into yours. You adjust your strap, a nervous habit. He takes your hand and does it for you. “I like this song,” he says casually, like he’s not playing with the strap of your dress. “Do you know what it’s called?” It’s vaguely familiar to you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s Jhene Aiko,” he replies, and you nod. You gravitate closer.

You stare at him. He stares back. “I’m high,” you say. You giggle. “I had a brownie and that blunt.”

“That’s a lot,” he says. “Don’t finish the blunt, ‘kay?” You nod back, and giggle again. In two seconds, your nervous mechanism has kicked in and you’re laughing like a psycho. “I’m high,” you repeat, and then he kisses you, effectively sobering you up.

Huh. He kisses you, effectively sobering you up. He kisses you.

You kiss back, shocked and relieved, deepening it, trying to get as much of him as possible. His hands are big and wide and warm, traveling all over you. You want him. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, lips molding against yours deliriously. 

“Want you,” you say when his hands play with the hem of your dress, teetering closer and closer to your core. “I said, I want you,” you whine, “now.” Mark only laughs, his hands under your dress and playing with the lace waistband of your underwear. 

“I like how this feels,” he mumbles. “Wanna take a look.” You whimper, hiking your leg up and nodding. “Please, just…touch me,” you say breathlessly. “Please.”

“I will,” he says, voice calm. “You’re being good.” You can’t deny the noise you make at the praise, breathy and loud. You pull him in again, drunk for more, your hands raking through his hair. It’s dark, the both of you basking in the small red light. Mark hikes your dress up, inching it higher, slowly, until he sees the hem of your white lace underwear. He grunts and pulls at it. “I love this,” he says. “So fuckin’, Jesus.” 

You giggle against the smile. He toys with your panties for a bit before finally pulling them down, watching them sink to your ankles. “Hot,” he jokes, and you laugh in disbelief. “Why would you even be joking abou—”

“Mark! Let’s go, it’s 2:30!” Donghyuck’s voice is just as loud and clear as it would be if you weren’t separated by a door. Jolted, you and Mark instinctively break apart and stare at the rattling door. “Maaaark,” he sing-songs, knocking to a beat. You stare at Mark, waiting for him to respond.

“I have explosive diarrhea,” he says. You stifle a guffaw, pulling your panties up.

He pouts, tapping your ass. “Bullshit,” Donghyuck says from outside. “I’m cooomin’ in!”

In the span of a minute, where you realize Donghyuck is not bluffing and in fact has a stolen bathroom key from Jungwoo’s bedside drawer, you manage to shove yourself into the bathtub and hide yourself with the curtain. Mark switches the light back on, much to both of your disappointment, and pretends to smoke the blunt you’d left on the sink fifteen minutes ago. Ergo: pre-kiss.

You find your phone on the bathtub floor and grip it, turning the brightness down. You have a plethora of messages and voicemails from Lia, five calls from Daniel, and an interesting iMessage of Donghyuck’s red, weed-induced eyes from an unknown number. It could be anybody, and that scares you.

The texts are all frantic, and they’re the last things that bring you out of your high and back to reality. Where are u, who u with?, u getting railed??!, Have you seen mark?

“Hyuck, if I actually did have a shitstorm coming out of my ass, you’d be so sorry for breaking in,” you hear Mark say. You sink lower into the bathtub, awaiting Donghyuck’s voice. “You were the one who suggested we go at 2:30, and you’ve been smoking weed for the longest time, dipshit,” he says, “now let’s go. I haven’t seen your Psych girl all night, so you can cry about it at home.” You faintly detect Mark protesting and then, “Let me just freshen up! Just go ahead.”

Reluctantly, you peek out and find Mark alone. You get up and fix your dress.

You’re sober now. The red lights are gone. It’s just you and Mark, plain and simple. Your feelings haven’t gone away, though. You’re fucking fucked. You want him to fuck you. Oh, fuck.

“Go,” you say instead, spluttering. “And I’ll see you. Tuesday.”

You leave first despite yourself, not turning around for even a split second, finding a worried (and then relieved) Lia and taking five consecutive tequila shots to down the nerves and denial bubbling in your system. She raises a brow, but you refuse to even meet her eyes, head and heart pounding impossibly fast. You want to kiss him again. So, so bad. But what the fuck did you just let happen?

—

Stage 2: Anger|

Lia hadn’t pressed, and you were nervous, but it was getting easy to diverge the details of what happened during Johnny’s party. You had instead opted to work alone, too much of a coward to even see Mark’s face. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you feared you might just kiss him if you ever saw him. So you spent days at class working, and then at your dorm working, adjusting your route to avoid, as much as possible, Mark or Hyuck’s buildings and that godforsaken cafe. You did text Mark, though, and the exchanges were brief, not even a “thank you” or “good morning” preceding them. It was awful.

Working alone forced you into a heavy load of retrospection. You would think deeply, like how you are now, spiraling into a series of questions where you studied the play-by-play of what happened in the bathroom, up against the wall. You liked it. A lot. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t let yourself. Why it even happened…God. You mentally berated yourself for giving into it. Didn’t you hate him? Or at least dislike him? Didn’t you take pleasure in scolding him or fighting with him?

“You’re freaking me out,” Lia says from her bed. She’s been staring at you. “You’ve been lying on your bed staring at the ceiling for twenty straight minutes.” She walks over to you, flopping next to you, her arms winding around your body. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.

“Okay. If you’re n—”

“Mark and I kissed.”

She sits up and turns to look at you.

“Made out, more like. We were going to fuck if we didn’t get interrupted.” You’re mortified, refusing to meet her gaze. When you look up, her face is even, but you know she’s bubbling over with giddiness inside. “That is so fucking great, dude,” she replies. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Because it’s Mark,” you whine. “He’s not…I don’t know.”

She lies back down. “You’re overthinking this.” You laugh, poking her waist. “I know, but I just…I feel like he might not like me much anymore.” You recount the way you left him hanging, despite the lack of awkward air and the potential to talk and become something. She tsks but justifies it, because she’s so good at that, being a mediator, and you continue with your day quietly. 

Your mind is always on it, though, his hands and his lips, and you’ve scoured Spotify for the song playing that he had commented on.

It’s called Pussy Fairy. You cannot make it up. It’s a weird title, but the song is heavenly, and you can’t deny when it’s full blast on your AirPods and your hand is creeping closer and closer there, trying desperately to replicate what you felt in that moment. When you’re not sated, ashamed and sighing, you resort to working on your paper. There are moments where both you and Mark are working at the same time, and you hate yourself for getting all flustered when it happens. 

—

It’s a Tuesday, in the early afternoon, when you’re out of class and cleaning out the little litter in your dorm, repasting whatever decorations fell off, et cetera. You have the time, anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt to fix the place up a bit. You’re halfway into re-stringing Lia’s fairy lights when someone knocks on the door, jolting you. You curse under your breath, hopping off her bed to swing the door open and reveal—

“What is up?!” Donghyuck grins back at you. His hand is raised in a high-five invitation, which you hesitantly reciprocate. “Mark tells me you’re meeting today, and that I should come remind you, since it seems like you forgot. He says you haven’t texted all day. Since I was on this floor—do you know Jeno Lee? Do you know it’s so amusing how Mark, Jeno, and I all have the same surname? Anyway. I was here on your floor to remind Jeno about an Econ presentation, and Mark texts me and goes, if you’re with Jeno, then remind you—you as in you, you—to come meet me and work.” 

He talks so goddamn fast. “You talk so goddamn fast.”

He just guffaws, high-fiving you again. “Well, you get my point, right? Meet Mark at the cafe and work is all he said to do. If you wanna.” You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “Tell him I’ll be a little late,” you say simply, and as you’re about to shut the door, he talks again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you were hiding behind the curtain.”

You pull the door open again, so fast a minuscule gust of wind washes over both of your faces. “You’re kidding,” you say, “you’re kidding.” You stare at each other for a second before his solem features break into a smile. “I am. Mark spilled everything to me, so I decided to trick you.” Relief and annoyance break over your system as you swat Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’re a dick,” you spit. “You’re bringing a bad image to Econ majors.”

He merely laughs and closes the door himself, light brown hair fluffing with the severity of his laugh (cackle.) Slightly annoyed, you drag yourself to get dressed, dread building up in your stomach at the prospect of seeing Mark again. Not when your mind conjures up what happened everytime you just see his name. Or the word mark. You’ve been out of it since it happened, not even responding to your usual heated debates with the conservative Trump supporter in class. You suppose the best way to confront it is to simply confront it.

When you get there, though, it’s clear that confrontation would not be an option. Immediately, when you sit, the air shifts into something oddly familiar—the atmosphere between the two of you when you first got partnered up. Except now, Mark won’t even give you a pinch of attention, or banter, instead typing his questions into the document to avoid verbal conversation. (He is a fucking petty bitch, you’ll give him that.)

You stroll over to the counter, pout set on your lips. “Hello,” Chan says politely, and you just smile half-heartedly. “Lover’s quarrel?” He teases, and you roll your eyes. “He’s ignoring me,” you respond, watching him make you a latte. “And we’re not dating. We never were.”

“Mm, right,” he says, finishing and setting your drink in front of you. You laugh a little, taking it. “No. We weren’t. But I’ll update you.”

When you return, Mark’s looking at you, quiet as ever. You break his gaze and continue working, working and working until the sun sets, nestled deep behind the horizon. When you look up again, the sky is already dark, city lights providing solace to the place. You look at Mark quizzically, as if to ask him what time you should both leave, but he just shrugs. “Any time,” he states plainly, and huffing, you get up.

“I’ll go right ahead then,” you say, trying your best to sound annoyed and get your message across. He says nothing, watching you pack up your stuff and sling your bag over your shoulder, and then eventually, leave.

Daniel is the first to see you in your raged, annoyed state—you meet him in the elevator of the lobby, your blood boiling and your fists balled. Knowing you’re headed to the same floor, he presses the button, ruffles his hair, and then lets the silence take over. And then, “What’s going on?” You breathe deeply, turning to him with a tired look on your face. “Mark’s going on,” you mumble, “he was ignoring me the entire time. And to think he was the one who requested my presence! It makes no sense. Why would he ignore me when we can just talk about it?”

“About what?”

It suddenly occurs to you that Daniel knows about your weird feelings for Mark, but not how they culminated. You splutter. “Um, about us. Everything.” Daniel looks amused, but the doors open, and you thank them for the temporary exit from the topic. He stops you right outside, though, and pulls out two ticket, card-looking things. “Wait, um. Listen, Lia and I are going to reach our seven-month…anniversary, I guess, of, y’know, being a thing. I know it seems really small, but I want to give her a little something out of appreciation, so I got us a room at this ski lodge outside the city.”

“That’s so sweet,” you say honestly, “but I must admit, it comes on sort of stalker-y. Like you’re whisking her off out of the city.”

He beams even louder. “That’s why you’re coming. With Mark!”

You gape back at him. “Did you miss the whole I-hate-him thing that happened in there?” You jab your finger towards the closed elevator doors, disbelief written across your face. He laughs. “Sometimes you can’t keep hiding behind”—he begins walking to your room, and you follow suit—“emotions, like anger. When I liked Lia, there was a point where I was just pretending to alienate her so I wouldn’t have to face that I was starting to love her. Like her. And you know, she did it right back.” 

“Oh, quit it,” you scoff, insistent. “You’re lecturing me like you’ve been married a decade.”

“That’s what I want,” he says, and you gag. “The first step to that would be ski lodge trip, so you’re coming!”

You’re in front of your room now, and you pinch his wrist as he reaches for the handle, gaining his full attention. “I’ll gladly go,” you whisper, “if Mark’s out.” Daniel just laughs, shaking his head. “No, no. An overnight trip would delay your paper severely. Plus, they have two beds per room.”

“We’ll be staying in the same roo—hey, Li,” you say, quickly cutting your angry rant off when she opens the door, her face confused (to say the least.) 

“Mm, hey,” she says, ushering the two of you in. “How long were you two out there?” Daniel shrugs, ruffling his hair and then pressing a kiss on Lia’s forehead. You boo from your place on your bed, buried under your duvet. “You both suck,” you holler, “always sexing it up in a sacred space. AKA my room.” Lia just grins and jumps on top of you, drawing grunts from you both. Daniel seats himself on the floor and busies himself with his phone. “How was Mark,” she whispers into your hair, and you groan.

“Bad,” you respond, “I’m so annoyed. We’re back to square one.” She makes an apologetic noise and gets up with a sigh, adjusting the strings of her pullover and then hugging Daniel. You watch them. You want to kiss Mark again. Life sucks that way.

—

Predictably, Mark turns down the offer of the ski lodge. He’s polite about it, too, especially since he and Daniel have grown a little bit closer since the start of your project. Daniel is, by no means, a “Mark anti”, but he would participate in the ribbing sometimes. Still, he’s insistent on the trip, saying it’s the best way to welcome December and that the forecast predicts a nice, thick layer of snow. It takes a week and two coffees everyday for Mark to give in, under the condition that he buy his own room when you get there.

Which, honestly, really, you have no problem with. Really, you think to yourself as you unceremoniously shove a knitted sweater into your bag. Really. Lia, who had graciously accepted the surprise, watches you abuse your bag, shoving sweater and scarf inside like they want to murder you. “Relax,” she says after a while. You laugh, playing it off (not so) casually.

The drive up there, courtesy of Daniel and a borrowed Prius, is fun, and cramped, but still decent, considering it was just an hour long. You’re in the back with Lia, and Mark is in charge of the AUX, which, of course, comes with its own bout of jokes. You even find the heart to participate and laugh in a few, not daring to meet his eyes. But all his songs are so fucking good. Frank Ocean, Jhene Aiko, SZA, and smaller indie artists flow from the speaker under his phone. The car ride has its share of epic karaoke moments—Mark plays ABBA, and Queen, solely to make sure everybody is belting out to the high heavens.

You get there when the sky’s purple and orange and there are some skiiers scattered around, though, since it’s not the proper holiday period, not too much. You trek over to the main lodge and that’s where Daniel pays for his reservations, and he and Lia retire to their room and promise to get up for dinner. You’re, again, alone with Mark in the lobby as you both stare at each other, willing the other to get up first. He does, to buy his own room like he said he would, and you can faintly hear the exchange from your seat on their nice, fluffy couch.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re renovating a majority of the rooms for the holidays. That’s why reservations were a prerequisite for staying here.”

Mark sighs. “Okay, right. I’m so sorry. Um”—it’s at this point that you go up next to him, polite smile on your face, ready to take the room key and fuck off—“could we just get an extra blanket, please? For one of the beds.” The receptionist gives a curt smile, handing over the keycard and nodding. “That’ll be one queen-sized warm blanket, then,” she hums, typing away. The receptionist beside her goes to the back, presumably to get the blanket. Mark nods, smiling. “For two queen-sized beds, it must be a big room for both of them to fit comfortably,” he comments offhandedly, fiddling with the card.

The receptionist chuckles. “There is only one bed, sir.”

Oh, God. “Oh, God,” you whisper. “One bed?” She nods with an eye-crinkling smile, like her words have not just rained hell upon the two people across her. “One bed and a sofa,” she corrects herself, reading the information on the computer by the desk. Not wanting to risk your last shred of sanity, you smile profusely, walking quickly towards your room which, thankfully, is on the same floor, at the end of the hall. It’s a small, quaint place that would be honest-to-God perfect if not for the fact that—

“There’s one bed,” Mark sighs, the truth clicking into place. “Daniel is a fucking shithead.” You drop your bag onto the carpeted floor, surveying the room with a scrutinizing gaze. It’s sizable—a bed, a couch, a window. There’s a small wooden desk that looks like its legs can barely hold its weight, and then another door, leading to the bathroom. It’s not bad at all. But you’re exhausted, the sun’s long gone, and your resolve is shredding away as the seconds tick by. “Take the couch,” you say dismissively, “or the carpet.” You make a beeline for the bed, but Mark’s arm wraps around your waist, effectively stopping you.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod “Shut up and let go of me, dick,” you stutter out. Mark loosens his grip and you shove him off, glaring at him. He gazes back down at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t just make up terms without negotiation,” he says matter-of-factly, and you blow a raspberry. “Fine. Let’s negotiate then. I’m a girl and that puts me above you because chivalry isn’t dead, thus, boom, I get the bed.”

“I was in the uncomfortable passenger seat all day and my lower back hurts,” he counters.

“My legs are wobbly.”

“Bullshit. My back aches.”

“You already said that, it’s invalid.”

The back and forth only intensifies, your arguments growing more and more bizarre, until finally, your volume is so high Lia says she can hear it faintly, four doors down. 

“The couch looks comfy,” you try, but Mark stands firm. 

“Do you know what? The bed is big. It’s a big bed. And we’re not going to take up much space. If we divide the bed with the sofa pillows…” you pick up the cushions and line them up neatly along the middle, “…then we can sleep beside each other without having to make contact with each other.” He seems convinced, stepping closer to the bed and nodding. “Okay. I get first dibs on the shower.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you let him anyway. You’ve unpacked nearly all your things and he isn’t done yet, so you’ve resorted to scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok and laughing at just about everyone that pops up on screen. Mark finally exits after what feels like forever, and you keep your eyes trained on your screen to avoid looking at him. From your peripheral vision, he is very much shirtless. There are no words exchanged, the thickness in the air only building bit by bit.

—

Three hours later, post-dinner, post-abandoning the thought of working on your paper, you’re stumbling into your room after helping the very tipsy couple of the night into theirs. You’re beyond tired now, and you can tell Mark is, too, despite the lack of eye contact or communication between you. You don’t even look at him, brushing your teeth and removing your makeup and clipping your hair up into a bun. It’s when he does the same, and you’re both in bed, using your phones, that he finally breaks the silence.

“I’m not mad,” he says. His voice is even and calm, and you quickly shut your phone off and sit up, peering over the pillow boundary you had created. You look at him expectantly before he sighs and continues. “Why did you leave?”

You stand up, getting out, trying to increase distance. You’ve never really liked confrontation. “I was weirded out,” you spill, “and scared…? I guess with the nearness of being caught, and with all the lights on, I was just shocked back to reality.”

He sits up. “What’s reality?”

“I don’t—know,” you splutter, getting back on the bed. “Not kissing you?”

He laughs, and then it becomes silent. “Right. Let’s sleep, then.” Without another word, he pulls his lamp off, and only the white moonlight is left illuminating the both of you. Shucking yourself under the covers, feeling your heart practically thump out of your chest. You honestly think he can hear it, or at least feel it. Suddenly the boundary doesn’t do much. You turn away from him, nervous, and you can faintly hear his breathing even out. You shut your eyes for a second. When you open them again, he’s looking right at you. “Just checking to see if you’re asleep,” he says quietly. You nod. And then you lean upwards, just a touch, so your lips nearly brush slightly. “Night,” you say, before turning to sleep for real.

You’re not sure when. And how. Sure, you faintly remember digging your legs sleepily through the sheets to find warmth and tangling Mark’s in your own. But still—when you’re up, the pillow fort is at your feet, hanging precariously off the four post bed, and your back is against Mark’s chest. His breath fans lightly over your hair and you blearily register what happened overnight. His arm is slung over your middle, it’s quiet, and oh Christ, he is hard.

It’s fairly late. He’s hard. The antique clock mounted up on the wall tells you it’s around nine, which essentially gave you seven hours of sleep. He’s hard. You bask in the warmth of Mark for a while before your resolve solidifies and you gently push his arm off from its position on your hips. He only comes on stronger, wrapping fully around your waist, mumbling incoherence into your hair. He’s hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, summoning sleep to overcome you quickly, but it never does. Dread overcomes you as you feel your underwear grow damp.

“Mm,” Mark grunts, his hand around your waist loosening. You move away but his head suddenly lolls into the crook of your neck, his lips touching the side of it. You whimper. He’s a fucking asshole, even when he’s asleep. You pinch his arm, jolting him to half-awakeness, and you roll away, despite your body’s protests.

He blinks his eyes open. “Sorry, shit,” he says, voice deep and ridden with sleep. You’re fucked.

“It’s okay,” you splutter instead. “Just go back to sleep.” You faintly register that you sound just as exhausted as he does, and you bury your head back into the covers. Everything, plus the sound of his voice, has you dripping, and you breathe in deeply to poorly disguise a whimper. He chuckles, already half-asleep, from where he is, and it’s quiet for a few minutes before you realize he’s fallen asleep. Knowing Lia and Daniel will be busy for a while, you pull a spare pillow over your head and chant to yourself before falling back asleep, too.

When you awaken, the bed is cold and empty, and the shower’s running. You check the time to find only an hour has passed, but you’re much more awake now, getting up and knocking incessantly on the bathroom door. “Hurry,” you demand hoarsely, “I want to go skiing.” You hear a muffled okay and scurry over to your bag to find the pair of leggings you had packed for this. You also find your parka, and you pull off your shirt to clasp on a bra.

“Not that I don’t mind,” Mark says, eliciting a yelp from you as you tug a sweater on at record speed, “but generally, that kind of thing only goes unnoticed in nudist colonies. I could research some for you, if you’d—ow! I was joking, God!” You bonk him twice over the head with the Bible on the bedside table, your brows furrowed angrily. “You looked, asshat,” you say, collecting your things and locking yourself in the bathroom.

When it becomes increasingly evident that Lia and Daniel have no plans of exiting their room, you grumble and resort to skiing alone. But as you’re shuffling out, bundled up, you spot Mark leaning against the exit waiting for you. He looks up and tsks. “About fucking time,” he says, holding the door open for you. It’s not that cold out—maybe you’re just used to having snow and chilly weather, and so is Mark—so you barely shiver, walking around and looking for a good place to ski.

“Forget skiing,” Mark says after a few rounds. “Let’s go sledding. I have a thing.”

“A toboggan, you mean.”

“A funny word. Really, just say sled.”

You let up, anyway, the bright sky and cold ground sending serotonin right into you. Sure enough, Mark does have a nice, blue sled that he lets you on, and then the two of you are bolting down the hill at breakneck speed, laughing all the way. It’s quite a long ride, and you’re smiling and yelping so much the cloth you’ve used to cover your neck has ridden down, the cold air hitting your face harshly.

You land very ungracefully—the toboggan hits a small tree and sends you and Mark catapulting in the same direction, your hands clawing at the air for expense. You find Mark’s arm and cling onto it in the split second you’re in the air, landing on a clearing of thick snow. The arm you’ve clung onto pulls you closer, Mark grunting “be careful,” and when the whole fiasco’s over, you’re smiling like an idiot, and you’re right on top of Mark.

You’re not straddling him or anything, but you’ve just happened to land with your face a little above his. You can’t stop laughing, your face flushed and red with the cold air hitting your face. So you laugh. Why wouldn’t you laugh? It was a good day. A good ride down the hill. So you keep laughing until they’re reduced to giggles, Mark laughing right along as you pull down the covering of his mouth and tug his beanie off, ruffling your hands in his hair and dipping down to kiss him.

He kisses you right back, his lips cold but quickly growing warm with the friction. You smile into the kiss, your hands roaming all over his pink face. The kiss is giggly and light, your hands all over each other as the sunlight filters in through the thick trees overhead.

You pull away after a while. “I hate you,” you whisper. He presses a kiss to your jawline and lets it linger there. “You think I don’t?”

—

Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|

You’ve begun to type the structure out when Lia tugs on your pajamas, her tone insistent and curious. “What’s up with you and Mark?” she presses, her cheek pressed to your stomach. You fervently hope she doesnt notice how your breathing quickens, and, keeping your voice even, you answer. “We’re…thinking about things.”

Which—you were thinking about things, to be fair. There were things to be thought and you had to think about them. It was a broad half-truth. It had been two weeks since the ski lodge thing, and you and Mark had decided it was probably best to shut the fuck up about everything you had done. (Everything meaning a few kisses here and there, and maybe a little more under the covers.) You’d hated yourself for hiding it from Lia, but you and Mark were actually feeling hesitant about moving forward with whatever you were. There was a lot of ambiguity and questions, and until you could clear it up yourself, you knew you weren’t ready to tell anybody else. You had talked about it already—clearly, the two of you were beyond jumping straight into a relationship after not liking each other that much and then becoming hesitant friends.

But it was, if you had to admit it to yourself, nice having that little secret.

“I’d want to tell Lia soon,” you tease, walking steadily beside Mark. The afternoon sun is warm on your heads, the snow falling intermittently. He turns with a small smile. “I’d want to tell Hyuck, too.” You scoff, burying your head in his chest. You probably look fucking disgusting. Around you, Washington Square Park is full of natives and tourists, and college students like you, all scurrying around and giving you that very much holiday feel.

He buys you a hot cocoa and hands it to you. “Are you heading home soon?”

You take a sip, your tongue hot. “If my ratty dorm counts as home, then yes.”

“Home is a feeling, not a place. Does your ratty dorm feel like home?”

“Kind of. Lia’s there. And so is the rat infestation in the ceiling.”

Mark nearly chokes on his cocoa. “You’re gross as fuck.”

You let out a loud laugh, your beanie nearly falling off with the bounciness of it. Mark reaches behind you to catch it, pressing a kiss to your lips in the process, soft and light and God, you like it. A lot. “Clumsy,” he remarks, pulling it back on and dragging a generous amount of your hair in front of your eyes as he does it. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon, and thank God we’re nearly done with this paper.”

“It was my genius idea to combine bargaining and depression,” you quip. “That’s my gift to you. Merry Christmas, Mark Lee.” He laughs at that. His laugh, you’ve noticed, is goddamn loud, and it’s a literal cackle, but he always looks so happy when he laughs. And buoyant. “You look stupid,” you say, but the smile on your face is undeniable. He glares playfully at you, taking your hand and walking you both in the direction of your building.

“New York in the snow,” he hums. “Always a great place.”

“It’s full of tourists,” you counter. Always disagreeing.

He chuckles and then, like clockwork—like how you’ve done it for the past six dates—you separate when you’re just shy of a meter away from the lobby entrance. Your fingers curl in search of his, and you jog up the steps, eager to get into the warmth of the building. The lobby’s pretty empty, save for a couple of students. Mark’s ahead of you, already pressing the elevator button and waiting impatiently. 

“We’re alone,” he sing-songs, his eyebrows wiggling. The doors open right as you take Mark’s hand, and you look up to meet Daniel’s wide eyes. Then you look to the right to meet Lia’s.

Despite your inner turmoil, you remain nonchalant, pinching Mark’s wrist instead of holding it like you’d planned. “That’s why our professor fucking hates you,” you say, narrowing your eyes. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, but you muster a neutral expression, shoving your hands back into your pockets. Lia knows you, though, and her furrowed eyebrows and parted lips say everything—but you just shrug, playing off what they could have caught you doing. “Hey,” you say, walking into the elevator with Mark. It all blows over.

AKA: Daniel has to drag a curious Lia away from you, with a promise that you would converse later. You and Mark are alone again, in the elevator, your hands barely touching, laughs loud. It’s all blurry after that. You’re high on a laugh and the thought of a kiss—you drag him over to your room, hands in his hair, breathless, loose kisses. You’re both so exhausted, though, that all you manage to extend your energy to is taking your tops off and making out lazily to the songs you’d recommended to each other.

“Mm,” he says when one of your songs starts playing. “It’s a nice song.” You nod with a smile. “I know it is, it’s one of my recommendations. It’s called Softly.” He plays with the strap of your bra. “I’ll give it more of a listen, then. Also, a red bra to school? Whatever will the professors think,” he jokes lightly, pressing insistent, but soft kisses on your shoulder. You laugh, pinching the inner part of his arm and eliciting a swear from him. “I was joking! I know you wore this for me, stupid.” The wind whistles outside, barely audible from the half-open window across the room, overlapping with the music.

This all feels too real, now.

You pout lazily against his bare chest. “Get off before Lia gets in,” you mumble, your heart beginning to race. He does, for what it’s worth, rolling off your bed with a loud thump and tugging his shirt and sweater back on. You watch him (fondly) annoyedly, your hair draping over you as you get up to properly shove him out. “Out, out,” you chant, laughing, and he giggles, turning abruptly to poke at your waist.

“Shut up,” you groan, a smile on your face. There’s a beat, then he pulls you close and kisses you, running outside right after with a literal guffaw. You watch him, wrapping your fleece blanket around your frame as he runs to the elevator, sweater backwards and hair messy.

—

Doubts are normal. This you’re assured of, but your head pounds with the sheer amount of things you’re cramming into it. You squint impossibly harder, trying to get the nail polish into the crook of Lia’s nail. You’ve probably overdone it, judging by the way she jabs her knuckle in between your eyebrows, her face contorted in worry. “Are you…okay?”

You narrow your eyes, the inner debate of telling her raging on and on. The nail polish drips onto her fingernail, rolling onto her pant leg, and she yelps, but her eyes are still on you. “You can tell me anything,” she says, softer this time. You know she’s serious—you know you can. You always have. You told her about every fling, one night stand, pregnancy scare, bad grade, hot professor, and spoiled deli food you’d encountered since you ever became friends. She knew you. And you were so sure she knew what you were about to say.

Except you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Your feelings were a mess, and you wanted one thing as much as you wanted the other. You couldn’t place what you wanted, and if you had to narrow it down, you’d realize that you were scared of what you wanted. You were never really one for commitment, or a relationship, or really anything, for that matter. And the fact that you were so hung up on thinking about what you and Mark would become—Mark? It all seemed so dystopian, almost. Like you’d never expected it. Your friendship was a childhood bubble that popped in the span of your first high school semester, and that was that. But just two days ago you were being kissed all over by the same guy you’d had a cutthroat student council president competition with.

It seemed so absurd? Crazy? Those adjectives were a little over the top. Deep down, if you dug deep enough into the parts you didn’t even tell yourself, you knew what you were. And if anybody else were to know, it would be Lia.

“I’m scared,” you choke out, your voice shaky. “I’m scared and sad, and happy and angry, and I want this but I don’t.” You cover the nail polish, shaking your head. “This is all so new to me. I hate how much I feel, especially because it feels so wrong. You know me—relationships are just not cut out for me. They’re scary and new. And people in relationships turn all gooey. I’m scared that this won’t last, but I’m scared that it will, and I’ll be doomed to an eternity of bland, padlocked relationships. It’s weird. I could be feeling this way for anyone, but it had to be Mark? If only I didn’t hate him, then maybe we could’ve gone off on a better foot. If only this whole thing never fucking happened, right?”

“It’s okay,” Lia cuts in. “Being scared is okay. It’s part of the whole process. And nobody said you had to get along like conjoined twins in a relationship. They just go when they go and end when they end. Not every relationship starts as a high school sweetheart thing and ends with three kids and a picket fence. And I’m so sure Mark would be so understanding if you didn’t like him or if you chose not to continue.”

“You knew?”

She laughs. “Of course I knew. I know a post-sex glow when I see one, and I was blinded that morning at the ski lodge.” You groan, pinching her indignantly, hiding your face in your hands as she laughs out of view. “Okay. Take some time and think about it, but for now, I want to get my nails done, so.” 

—

It’ll be a week before you come up with what you want, and the whole time you generally avoid talking about solemn topics with him in person. 

It’ll be another few days before you finally talk to him personally—with your paper nearly finished, you suggest a meeting at the library. It’s just two days before Christmas Eve, and you know Mark’s going to be driving to Canada, so you want to snatch him away for your own personal time for just a second. The snow has all but thickened as you meet outside the building, the silence deafening.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. You know he’s probably picked up on your erratic, quieter behavior in the past several days, but you gulp and lead him inside anyways, to your favorite section. “It’s almost Christmas Eve,” he says, watching you stall, surrounded by Philosophy books from just about every century. “I know,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too nervous.

“You sound nervous,” he says.

“Do I?” you ask shakily, your voice taking on an unnaturally high pitch. “I mean, er. I guess I sort of am. I guess I’ve been thinking about everything lately—about you and me and everything that just happened so suddenly. Because—because it did happen so suddenly. I just…needed time? Yeah, time. To think about everything. Because it all happened so quickly, I…” you stutter. “I’m scared of these things. I’m not used to them. Relationships? Things that last longer than a couple weeks? I don’t like these. 

I have something bigger I want to focus on and anybody who gets in the way just isn’t worth it. And it’s so weird how it was you out of all people I started thinking about it with. Usually I just have the rare fling and then they’re gone, and I’m not even mad. But you’re different. And I like it. 

But I just needed time to find out if I really liked it. If I really wanted to try. I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I probably sound really fucking stupid, but you get me—you get me, right? And that’s how I realized—if it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I don’t know why I overthought it. I mean, it’s a good thing and a bad thing that I did. Like, on one hand, I got to really think about how this would play out, and on the other, I’d just end up spiraling. And it’s just weird. I hope you don’t know I hated you. Hate you? Hated you. I was just—it was all so juvenile. Everything just stemmed from that one awfully dumb high school rivalry. But other than that, you were always a cool…see what I mean? I’m kind of rambling—even if I thought I had planned this out. And. Yeah. I dunno. I fucking…I hate you, stop laughing.”

Mark smiles down at you—you’re busy pretending to read a Sartre book to look unfazed, but your flickering gaze says it all. 

“Okay, stupid,” he says, bordering onto a laugh. “If that’s your way of saying you’re willing to give this a try, then I graciously accept. Should I be saying something equally long? I—is that how this works?”

You roll your eyes and kiss him instead, pulling him close, Sartre’s postulates dropping to the floor alongside your tiptoes.

—

Stage 4: Acceptance|

“Acceptance is just that. Just accepting that you love that person after weeks or months of all the other stages. With her, it was. Like. It’s the whole sitting down after silence, having some time for the revelation to set in before you realize you love them. Or like them? Well, love them, I guess. But I don’t know why you would be asking me this.”

You bury your head further into Mark’s shoulder, your eyes strained from how long they’d been trained onto your screen. You smile up at Daniel, thanking him for the input and beginning to type it in, watching Lia doze off on his shoulder. “We’re asking because we’re not quite there yet,” Mark hums, “it’s just February. It’s barely been two months.” You nod, watching Mark type where you left off on the document. Daniel snorts from across you. “You’re just about, I guess.” Mark chuckles, shrugging so your head bounces off his shoulder unceremoniously.

“Like I’d ever fall in love with that shitstorm,” he says pointedly.

“Oh, and I’d fall in love with this dickwad?”

“You’re perfect for each other. Bullying, but we all know Mark brought back gifts from Canada and that you stitched an initial onto his sweater.”

“To practice my embroidery. Also, I stitched Mark’s initial. M. Asshole.”

“Okay,” whistles Daniel, his hand unconsciously coming up to make sure Lia doesn’t fall off his shoulder. “But hey, you’re just about to submit this paper and I’m fondly remembering all the times you despised each other. And when you”—he points at you, devilish grin on his face—“started gushing to Lia about how he”—he then turns to Mark—“kissed you at Johnny’s party.”

“God, it’s not the time for that yet, we’re still a fresh couple,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. “You have so much dirt on me, Choi.” Mark just laughs, though, loudly, bringing the other cafe-goers’ attention to yours. He bites your shoulder to stifle it, eliciting a laugh from you. “I agree, there should be a certain time requirement for pre-relationship embarrassing stories,” Mark says, closing his laptop. Lia gets up at that point, already half-awake from the ruckus (AKA Mark’s laugh), pulling on Daniel’s sleeve. “Alright, and that’s my cue to get this girl some more coffee and then go.”

“Mm, I’ll come with,” you say, “I need a refresher before we leave soon, anyway.”

You walk in between them, your fingers laced in Lia’s as she squeezes them sleepily. They order first and then they’re off with a smile and a polite goodbye, leaving you to order your drink. You gaze up at the menu, and then down at—

“Long time no see,” Chan says with a knowing beam. “How is your not boyfriend boyfriend?”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

“See, I always know. What do you want?”

“An iced ca—how did you know?” You ask, tempted.

“It’s just…the energy? It was a hit or miss, but I kinda got that feeling that something was going to happen.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “An iced caramel then.”

“And a black coffee for her best friend!” Hollers a new voice that you could never miss, turning slowly towards the entrance to meet Donghyuck’s crazy eyes. He’s in a suit, which isn’t unusual given the sheer amount of presentations he’s had to do since the new year started. You roll your eyes but put in the extra cash anyway, much to Chan’s amusement. Hyuck nears you with a sly grin. “I hear you’ll be submitting your paper soon. I just want my name in there so I’m in your professor’s good graces.”

“She’s not even going to be your professor, Hyuck,” you say, taking your drink and smiling at Chan. You and Donghyuck both walk back to where Mark’s sitting, you beside him and Hyuck across the both of you. “Yes, but it pays to be in somebody’s good graces, I swear. See what happened? I got you two together. I orchestrated your entire love st—”

“Okay, now you’re just lying, Hyuck,” Mark says with a laugh, finishing up the first few paragraphs and closing his laptop. “We’re not even in love.” But his friend lets out a teasing smile, his eyes narrowed, and he gets up with a loud farewell and alibi about “being needed by my better friends.” You assume he’s talking about Jeno.

—

You walk to Mark’s room alongside him, thanks to the promise of his roommate, Jaemin, sleeping at a friend’s. Your fingers are intertwined loosely. The sun’s setting and Mark’s room is sheathed in beautiful shades of orange and pink, a vast array of dusk settling over the space. It happens quietly, but full of laughs, which is how it happens when you’re both tired and/or shitfaced. You do this a lot—a routine of sharing new songs or books you’d picked up over the week and then making out while they play in the background or while one of you read. It’s awfully, horribly, terribly fucking intimate. 

“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.

You love it.

“Get better abs and we can talk about it,” you counter, poking his toned stomach. He really, fully guffaws at that, pulling you onto his lap and then tugging his guitar out from where it stands at the corner. You flop back onto his bed, watching him play—and then registering the familiar opening of the Jonas Brothers song you used to request nearly everyday. “Lovebug,” you muse with a smile, singing along to his voice, carried away. You’re sleepy and light, and you know deep down—in that space of yourself where you’re all but honest—that you were going to fall in love with him someday.

Later, when all you’re doing is hugging him as he reads your latest Philosophy requirement to you, he pauses.

“Is this the 21st century idea of love?” He asks idly, unclasping your bra and connecting the moles on your shoulder. You hum. 

“It’s the Gen Z idea,” you say, connecting the ones on his bare back. “And this isn’t love.”

“Corny.” he smiles against your collarbones. You kiss his neck. It’s all very gradual.

—

hope you liked it :) drop an ask! I absolutely love all types of feedback 

[hyunjilicious]

that night [harry styles]

A best friends to something else type of story. Exactly 7.8k (literally 7800 words which is scary) and you know I can’t write that much without SMUT. This takes place during a sleepover at the end of quarantine! Maybe tell me what you thought? :) (I promise I’ll edit this soon!)

-

“Show me yer phone, love” Harry groaned, sending you the coldest of death stares. The night started off as usual, you two just watching some old documentaries, paying more or less attention to them as you mostly just sat and talked. Things took a turn when your phone started blowing up with messages. Being the kind of person who always replies in an instant, suspicions arose when you decided to completely ignore the texts. Although Harry never violated your privacy and never pushed you for answers you didn’t want to give, when you started laughing and got nervous about whoever it was that kept texting you, he figured it would be worth it to push your buttons.

“I said no” you repeated yourself, standing up from the couch. There were two main reasons you didn’t want to talk about the person texting you, and these 2 reasons were also probably the only two things in the world you wouldn’t want to discuss with him.

“Why no’?” he asked offended, following you into the kitchen, like a small child begging his parents to let him have his way, “What can be tha’ bad? I wouldn’t have asked any questions if yeh hadn’t been so off about it from the start”

You turned and looked at him dead in the eye, contemplating what to say next. He beat you to it.

“Is it a guy? Have you been seein’ someone?” Harry asked as he walked over to you, completely ignoring your personal space. “Is tha’ it? I don’t wanna read yeh texts, just tell me yes or no, and I’ll drop it. Promise”

You took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s a guy” you said calmly, “But we’re not seeing each other”

“Then why does he keep texting yeh like crazy?”

“Crazy…” you sighed, tapping your chin, “Good description”

“Come on, Y/n” Harry whined, tapping your shoulder as he walked past you and towards the refrigerator, “Just tell me, I’m really curious, crazy how?”

“Promise you’re not gonna freak out?” you laughed, grabbing whatever he was pulling out of the fridge and handing to you. You stopped paying attention after three cups of pudding and one bottle of wine.

“When have I ever freaked out?” he joked, mocking himself. He was usually a calm person, more composed than anyone you’ve ever met, and he less than rarely got angry. And from those times when he did lose his temper, 90% of cases were mild and he was still calmer than anyone else in that kind of situation, but that 10% left was pure terror. When his friends told you years ago that nothing’s scarier than Harry when he was truly mad, you didn’t quite believe them. You had to see for yourself to accept it. It only happened a few times in almost 5 years, but you always still did everything you could to keep him from going off again.

“Ok, so” you started speaking as you rummaged around your kitchen for bowls and glasses, “His name is Marcus and we actually met on Tinder-”

“Wait a second” he cut you off, “During the lock down?”

“Oh, no. It happened before all of this madness. Around january, I think”

It was obvious he was already bothered by how this conversation started, but he did his best to control himself so you wouldn’t decide to drop it. “Pretty serious, then, huh?” he said eventually.

“Literally the opposite” you laughed, pouring the pudding into the bowl, “We saw each other once-” and it hurt you to say the following part but you did it nonetheless, “hooked up, and didn’t talk since”

Pure annoyance was readable on his features. “Apparently haven’t talked until now?”

“Yeah, I mean-” you cringed, “He texted me like a week or so ago and we didn’t - vibe, and he got weird, so like I muted the conversation for 7 days because I didn’t want him to bother me anymore but he got so defensive it was funny so I didn’t really wanna block him”

“Yeh muted the guy a week ago and he still keeps trying?” Harry asked, completely taken aback, “Can’t blame him, but still, tha’s a bit much”

“It is” you nodded in agreement, and motioned for him to open the bottle of wine for you.

“He must have liked yeh a lot” he mumbled, twisting the corkscrew into the top of the bottle, “Maybe you two had a really great time, and he-”

“Harry” you stopped him, leaning your head to the side, “I know you’re squeezing information out of me right now, but I honestly don’t think you want to hear more of this”

“Ok” he sighed defeated, “I’m gonna stop pushin’ yeh. Thanks for tellin’ me tho. And sorry if I crossed any lines''

“You haven’t, H” you smiled, giving him a hug from behind. “It’s fine”

After gathering everything you had fixed up to take into the living room, the pudding and the wine, as you passed the threshold of the kitchen, you heard Harry speak up, traces of amusement audible in his voice. “But like… At least was the sex good?”

“You want me to answer that?” you chuckled, plopping down on the couch. “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

“Yeah” Harry shrugged, smiling innocently.

“It was horrible” you said bluntly and watched his grin wilt away. “Probably the worst sex I’ve ever had. No, no, no.. Definitely the worst sex I have ever had in my entire life”

His mouth fell agape. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, i got to his house… And you know, up until then everything was fine, like he seemed like a completely normal and fun guy while we texted but like, as soon as i got to his place he became really… I don’t even know how to put it, he was um.. Very clingy and weird and we talked for a bit but then when we went to his room he turned into literally the biggest asshole I met”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, “Tha’s not wha’ I expected”

“Exactly!” you laughed, “Neither did I!”

“Then wha’ happened?”

“I went down on him and he didn’t do the same because apparently he finds that gross? That’s what he told me but I didn’t wanna get into it because I went there to get dick so I was like let’s just fuck, and we did… We made out a bit, got him worked up again, and when we fucked I literally thought something was wrong with me, because he just.. I don’t know. Bumped into me and after he finished I was there like… What just happened?”

“Yeh were right when yeh said I didn’t wanna hear this”

“Told you” you giggled, grabbing your pudding and toying with your teaspoon.

“Jus’ stop using Tinder, please” Harry eventually shook his head.

“A girl has needs, ok?”

He was enraged and completely ignored your words, “And wha’ does he want from yeh now? He really thinks yeh’d see him again? Really?”

“I don’t even know what he’s been saying, honestly” you shrugged.

“Can I see?” 

“Can you like, read from the notification box? I don’t wanna leave him on seen”

Harry nodded in agreement and you gave him your phone. He pressed the lock button, the screen lit up, and it was instantly flooded with texts from him. Since you put the conversation on mute a week ago, you had no idea what he had been saying. It seemed that he didn’t appreciate your lack of interest and that he didn’t bother to hold back.

‘You pathetic whore, u really think ur gonna find someone better than me? U think ur so high and mighty and hot but  ur gonna die alone you bitch. Do u feel better about yourself if u juts ignore my texts???? Well good for fucking u-’ and Harry locked the phone, the screen going black.

“The fuck did I just read?” he questioned, his annoyance from earlier, now morphing into pure anger.

“You said you wanted to read” you shook your head.

“Why does he think he can talk to yeh like that?”

“I don’t honestly care” you sighed, “It’s not like I’ll ever see him again, so he can go and say anything he wants”

“‘S not how that works, darlin’” he said.

"Can we drop this, please" you sighed, unable to quite look in his direction, "I don't like this"

"Well-" Harry erupted and judging by the way his voice instantly died down, you could tell he almost lost control, "I don't fucking like it either, ok? But yeh shouldn't jus' accept tha'!"

"I wouldn't call it acceptance, H" you shook your head, discarding your bowl of pudding and jumping straight to the bottle of wine. "I told him I'm not interested, and I stopped replying. It's not acceptance... he just keeps trying"

"But for some reason yeh're letting him talk t' yeh like tha'"

"Well-" you shrugged, and took a big gulp of red wine, "He talks by himself"

"Y/n…" Harry called, his voice soft and you could tell that there was anger hidden somewhere deep inside, but you still appreciated the fact that he managed to keep it contained. He extended his arm, his fingers brushing against the side of your thigh. It was a soft, delicate touch, that made every hair on your body stand up. He did it to get your attention and boy, did it work. Instantly, your eyes snapped to his, and were met with something you did not see coming. "Can I say something?" he asked cautiously, his eyes shining with genuine worry.

"You're making this into something much more significant than it actually is"

"I'll drop it" he eventually nodded, "If you promise me something"

"What?"

"If anythin' similar to this happens again, tell me"

"And what are you gonna do about it?" you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. As you kept staring into his green eyes, you brought the wine bottle up to your lips, took a long sip, and then handed it to him.

He took the bottle out of your hands, seemingly not giving more than two shits about it. The warmth in his eyes accentuated as his eyebrows gathered into a concerned furrow, "Make sure it doesn't get to yeh"

"It doesn't" you smiled.

"Lemme make sure" 

"Ok, Harry" you laughed, "I promise you that the next time a guy from Tinder gets mad about me not reciprocating the feeling, and he starts sending me that kind of texts, I will tell you"

The sarcasm just flowed out of you, and he was not impressed.

"I meant in general, love"

"Any guy?" you taunted, "Not just from tinder?"

"Fucking put on tha’ movie" he shook his head, "I know yeh too well. Won't get anywhere until you get some wine in tha’ belly"

"That's your plan?" you laughed, "Get me drunk and make me spill all my secrets?"

"I never assumed you had any secrets, but yeah, now I wanna know those too" Harry grinned, throwing his arm around you and pulling you to his chest. Although this kind of intimacy was something you've been somewhat used to, tonight it was just a bit more difficult to bear. And it may all have been due to the way he mentioned he wouldn’t want anything to get to your head, and the way he said he’d make sure of it. Even though you weren’t truly clear how he’d do that and what exactly was going through his head, it was crystal clear how you’d have him do that.

But now was not the time. You glued your eyes to the TV screen, and begged your brain to focus on the movie in front of you and not whatever Harry was thinking about, mere inches away from you.

There had been something in the air that night, because neither of you managed to pay any kind of attention to the movie anymore. You talked, the conversation not going back to the previous topic, you laughed, gossiped like there was no tomorrow, and now it was almost 4am, and you and Harry were 3 bottles of wine in. Deciding to cut the alcohol before it was too late, you settled for water, as Harry went on to finish a weird story he once heard from a hippie touring the states in his van. He was completely smitten, his eyes shone with admiration for the old man. Harry spoke with words of great respect about a life he wished he could once live. It was only a matter of time until it would get to you.

“But,” you sighed, laying down and placing your head into his lap, “You really seem like the kind of guy to pack his bags and just leave. Like get a couple of friends or something, leave a note saying you’ll eventually be back, and just travel around the world”

“I kinda already do tha’ love” Harry laughed, double chin showing as he looked down at you.

“Not what I meant” you shook your head, “And you know it”

“Wha’ did yeh mean, then?”

He looked down at you, his hands finding their way into your hair as you contemplated how to put the words together. “I don’t know… Less social interaction-” you finally said, “Make it less about living the same songs in front of thousands of people, and more about living a completely new experience as you really get to know just a handful of people”

He didn’t look convinced. His dimples were showing, and a chuckle was threatening to escape his lips.

“That didn’t make any sense, did it?” you laughed.

“It did” Harry smiled, “Might have’ta resume this in tha’ morning, but i think i got the idea”

You pointed your finger to him, “Best”

“Me?” he grinned, grabbing your hand, “Oh, stop it!”

“Not you, your idea”

“Nice save, love”

You wanted to object and keep this topic going as the butterflies in your stomach started to riot, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sound of your phone receiving another text filled the air. In an instant, your eyes locked with Harry’s and you knew he wasn’t gonna let any of that shit slide. Not wanting to give him the chance to protest, you sprung up and leaned towards the coffee table, your fingers barely managing to brush against the side of your phone before Harry grabbed your waist and yanked you back, pressing you against the cushions of the sofa as he hovered above you.

The intimacy and urgency of this whole charade made your skin crawl, and you couldn’t help but let a few giggles escape, “What are you doing?” you laughed.

“Not lettin’ tha’ asshole ruin your night, love” Harry smirked, tilting your head so that you had to face him. 

“I’ll see the text in the morning and it will ruin my whole day” you played along, but as it turned out, you dug your own grave.

“Oh?” he grinned, “So it does get to you”

“No!” you belted, “That is not what I meant, Jesus harry”

“Come on, hon” 

His head tilted to the side, before he leaned down and nudged the tip of your nose with his. “Jus’ say the word”

That sent burning chills down your spine, and your cheeks couldn’t do anything but to comply and turn an erotic shade of pink.

“I’m not sure what to say” you mumbled, fighting against the urge to jump on him.

“I’m yer best friend, love-” he made a small pause, for dramatic effect, and just stared down at you while your blood boiled, “Lemme show yeh how good yeh can feel”

“I-”

He cut you off, obviously proud of himself, “I obviously wouldn’t have asked twice if I hadn’t felt you squeeze your thighs around me”

“Fuck, Harry-” you said, embarrassment rushing all over you as you threw your hands in the air.

He leaned down, and brushed his lips along your jaw, “Yeh could be screaming tha’ name”

Regaining your composure, you grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact once again, “What does this mean to you?”

“It doesn’t have t’ mean anything we don’t want it to” he nodded, “Just friends looking out of one another”

“Mhm..” you choked, “Yep”

“Tell me, and I’ll get off of you”

Your answer came a short second later. “Yeah, get off” you said sternly.

His features barely got a chance to show the disappointment that enveloped him, because as soon as the words left your mouth, you pushed yourself up. Excitement started showing on his face as you pushed yourself up. With a devilish smile on your lips, you grabbed the hem of his shirt; not giving him a chance to secure his balance on his knees before you pulled the material up his body. He clumsily shuffled out of it, his tattoos coming into full view.

“Is that a new one” you asked, pointing to his left shoulder.

To your surprise he took you seriously, and looked down, obviously confused, “Which one, love?”

“This one” you grinned, pushing yourself up and against his chest, this way, giving yourself a chance to press your lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s whole body shivered under you as he let out a small chuckle. Instantly, his hands found your waist. Once your lips grazed his sensitive skin, the muscles of his neck relaxed as if under a spell and his head fell back. Harry’s fingers dug into your sides as your teeth sunk his flesh, sucking profusely. Having waited for this so many years, it felt all too real and completely unreal at the same time. There was a fire burning inside of you and the soft moans slipping past his lips were no help with taming it.

“Having fun?” Harry laughed, but his confidence and usual air of self control were shaking.

As a response, you bit into his ear lobe and delighted yourself with the whimpers of pleasure he didn’t even try to hide.

Although burning for it, you didn’t have it in you to go for his lips, so when he was the one to do it, all your radars went crazy. The way he grabbed your chin and pulled you closer, it was all you wished for. Years worth of pent up emotions dripped from your lips and onto his.

How ungrateful and inappropriate would it have been for you to beg for more and guide the situation in a different direction? Even if his gentleness made your knees weak, the heat between your legs begged for a less kissing and a lot more biting. 

It was when he pressed you down against him that made you forget about everything that held you back. His erection was rubbing against your thigh as you grinded down on him, and you couldn’t help but break the kiss and sink your teeth into his lower lip.

Harry threw his head back against your touch, and a proud smile lifted up the corners of your mouth.

“Come on” you moaned, kissing your way down to his ear, “Show me how you should treat a girl”

His fingers snuck into your hair and pulled your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his’, “Is it me? Or are yeh a bit more excited for this than you initially let on?”

Your eyes sparkled as you let out the fib, “It’s just you”

Grinning, he shook his head in mock approval, and secured you in his hold, before effortlessly spinning the two of you around. Now, a mess of limbs, you looked up at Harry with what could only be described as pure lust. And it all reflected on his features. His ridiculously messy curls framed his face perfectly, allowing his proud gaze to fuel your engines.

With all your might you wanted to let him take the lead and not show too much enthusiasm, but it felt next to impossible. Before you knew it, your hands were cupping his cheeks again, forcing his body flush against your own. He kissed you back with no hesitation, as if he too waited years for this to finally happen, as if this was his dumb way of confessing to you that he too, was head over heels for you. But that was a scenario that regardless of its likelihood, was sure to ruin your mood. 

So you pushed it aside, forced your mind to fall on standby, and instead, you concentrated on the way his hands explored every single inch of your body. When he broke the kiss, you wanted to protest, your tongue crying from the sudden loss of contact. But his lips traveled lower, kissing all the way over down your neck, along your collarbones, and across your chest. It was all aggravated and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Yeh good?” Harry asked, looking up at you, cheeks all flushed.

“Yep, yeah” you whispered, the weight of the moment turning your voice into a light chuckle. Breathless and innocent, you were on cloud nine, and all your struggles to keep that hidden were in vain.

Delicately, as only he could, Harry pushed your shirt over your head, leaving you exposed, a fact which sent a whole new wave of pleasure down your body. This gesture alone shook your whole world, but he wasn't wasting any time. You barely even got a chance to catch your breath before he lowered himself, and cupped your breasts into his palms. Your back arched in an instant, and when his warm lips connected to your skin, goosebumps propagated all over your whole body. As circled his lips and caught your nipple between his teeth, your mind went crazy, muscles sizzling with anticipation. A suggestive moan slipped from your throat, and you could tell it surely tickled his ego.

“Gettin’ there?” he questioned even if he already knew the answer.

You threw him half a shrug, tilting your head to the side and pressing your cheek to your shoulder.

“So fuckin’ cute, angel” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he crawled up your body, “Why’re yeh so cute?”

“How would I know?” you blushed, playing along with his overly teasing approach, “You’re the one who sad it”

“Don’t know why I think yeh’re cute?”

You nodded no.

A small but sure fire lit up his features, and he knew it was on. He did maintain the eye contact for a while, but when he finally looked down at your body, nonchalantly staring at your chest, that was when your breath got caught in your throat. The pressure was building up, yet Harry kept pushing your buttons. 

In desperate need to pick up the pace, you nudged his chin with the back of your fingers, and when his eyes caught yours; you raised one eyebrow, motioning for him to continue. “Wha’ do yeh want me t’ tell yeh, love?” Harry grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“Tell me what you like about me” you laughed, linking your fingers in his hair. While you laughed due to the amount of different emotions that coursed through you, Harry made it all the more difficult for you to keep it together. His kisses were light enough for you to feel the ounces of love that dripped from his lips, but carnal enough to keep you on your toes.

“I love everything about yeh” he murmured against your skin, his chain of passionate kisses crossing over to the other side of your neck, “I mean, wha’s there not t’ like?”

“Word” you giggled, your sarcasm coming in perfect contrast to the weakness his question brought to your knees.

“Fuckin’ love every inch” Harry said, having completely ignored your joke, “Every single part of yeh, yer body and god, yer mind”

His hands cupped the sides of your rib cage, as his lips traveled down your sternum. He seemed lost, completely absorbed. Every time he looked up at you, it was impossible not to notice how out of this world his eyes seemed. Glossy and dark, extravagant green looking to explore more of you. And those were only the times you managed to catch him staring. The pleasure this man provided surpassed the moaning level, he got you working hard not to scream in ecstasy, as his tongue ran laps around your nipples, and the way his lips sucked with that specific amount of pressure. It looked as if he already knew where all your buttons were, he acted as if he knew your body better than you did. And for you, that was a new experience, which would’ve already been too much, even without Harry involved. But seeing your fingers get lost in his absolutely perfect in a messy kind of way locks, as he treated your skin with such refined skill, you found yourself way too close to the edge.

In the high of the moment, probably following an unidentifiable stimulus, you found yourself concentrated on the way his palms felt against your skin. He held you in his arms as if you were the most precious thing he ever laid eyes on. And for some reason, that feeling alone had you skyrocketing.

It was when you moaned out loud, for the first time not holding back, that he finally decided to give you what he promised. 

“Yeh sure this is ok, angel, yeah?” he murmured, looking up at you. 

His light stubble tickled the lower side of your abdomen as his breath barely managed to reach your skin. 

“Yeah” you clumsily nodded, your words coated in fervid enthusiasm.

Something happened. Something clicked inside of him. You saw it in the way his eyes warmed up. For a second he didn’t move, instead he just took in everything that was happening. When he eventually pushed himself up, you expected him to help you or motion for you to undress, but he didn’t. Harry lowered himself on top of you, pressing his chest against your own.

His fingers locked themselves against your chin, “I really wanna fucking do this right for yeh”

His confession took you aback. The seriousness in this tone was not something you anticipated. At first, he was the one who made it all seem like a meaningless game, yet right now, it seemed as though he fell into his own trap. 

All you could do was nod. Nod in approval, nod as a sign for him to keep going. As a promise that it was all ok. This attitude of his was not something you signed up for. Even if it looked like the beginning of what you always wanted, it also felt a little bit too sudden.

“Come here” you cooed, cupping his cheeks in a loving manner.

In an instant, he leaned into your touch, his skin burning against your damp palms. For the x-th time that evening, his lips melted onto yours, but something felt different. But you kept going, allowed the moment to carry you further without giving yourself the burden of dictating a direction. 

And seconds passed, and with each one, his touch became more and more aggravated. You could feel his need, and you have loved to think that what you were feeling from him was love, but it was just too big of a step to take right now. Not too shortly after, the situation escalated towards the point you left off earlier. You let him take the lead, and he soon returned to his usual self.

Harry made his way down your body through a chain of lingering kisses, each one of them awakening yet another side of you. This time, you were given no time to prepare. His experienced hands grabbed your thighs, groping their way up to your hips. Although it was fairly fast, it felt like an eternity. You breathing picked up when his fingers hooked themselves into the waistband of your leggings, and without even thinking about it, you pushed yourself up, allowing him to take them off. 

Now, you hadn’t seen this coming, because if you had, you probably would have chosen to wear something less embarrassing than your Superman underwear. Your cheek heated up as if it was the first time a man had seen you naked, and all your insecurities washed over you. None of those thoughts crossed Harry’s mind though. 

He just smiled - a gesture whose roots you’d never know. 

Harry positioned himself between your legs, his fingers gingerly tracing up and down your outer thighs. “Really fucken gorgeous, yeh know tha’?”

His compliments have never been this hard to receive, “Shut up” you chuckled, rolling your eyes as you couldn't help but squirm under his stare.

“Wha’?” Harry grinned, leaning his head to the side as he let his teasing side take over, 

“Tha’ tinder fuckface never told yeh just how perfect yeh look?”

“This is still about him, huh?”

“It’s about yeh, love” Harry rolled his eyes, letting his nails graze your skin, “Always been about yeh, always will be”

With each word that let his mouth, he leaned down, lower and lower, until every inch of his body was pressing against your own. He dominated the moment, and you love it.

When he engulfed your lips into a kiss, his right hand traveled between your legs. That alone made your core vibrate, and knowing there was no way to hide your enthusiasm, made you smile.

You felt the back of his fingers trace up and down your opening, and his words confirmed your suspicions. He pulled away from your lips just enough so he could speak, but he was still too close for you to properly see his features - he was just a few literal inches away, “I can’t wait to taste yeh, doll”

The grin on his lips and the pride of his tone, had a visible effect on you. The hairs on your body stood up in anticipation, and you couldn’t help but arch your back and close your legs around him. You kissed him back, and this time, it was on.

As his tongue pushed past your lips, Harry’s hands lewdly traveled down your sides, caressing every inch of exposed skin they found in their way. You didn’t see the eagerness coming, but when he reached between your legs, the flimsy material of your underwear didn’t even begin to come in his way. He shoved his hand under your panties, his fingers instantly coming in contact with your opening.

It was solely the emotional value of the moment that made you nearly gasp. Harry took his sweet damn time, as if you needed any more foreplay. The pads of his fingers gingerly traced up and down your opening a few times, before coming back up again to rest against your clit. It was soft and easy at the beginning, but the feather light touch of his fingers started gaining more and more pressure as subtle circular movements started to form.

When you looked up at him, you were met with the mess of curls that had fallen onto his forehead as he had his head hanging low, with his eyes trained between your bodies. With a gentle nudge against his chin, you prompted him to look up. At first he seemed a bit disoriented, but a wicked grin shortly appeared on his lips. It made you smile.

He was the one to resume the kiss, making it gentle this time - in perfect contrast with the action of his fingers, as he slowly made his way past your folds. When the first finger went in, you curled the corners of your mouth in anticipation. It felt fine, but it was just the tip of the iceberg and you knew it. Eager for more, you allowed your teeth to lewdly sink into his lower lip, willing to show him you wanted more. 

With a grunt, Harry shuffled a bit, his knees bucking into your hips. The deep breath he released tickled your skin, but you weren’t going to let this go. As you forced your teeth just a bit deeper into his plush skin, Harry let his forehead fall against yours. 

His tongue neatly traced along your upper lip, and you thought it was in response to your actions. And this erroneous thought kept you from anticipating his next move. When Harry pushed one more finger in, your senses went mad, and the simple fact that he didn't give you too much time to adjust before he pushed a third finger in, rocked you completely. 

You moaned in return and arched your back.

"I got yeh, baby girl" he whispered softly, "Look at me, I got yeh, ok?"

After receiving an enthusiastic nod from you, Harry made his way down your body. This time, he swiftly shuffled to the side, pulling your legs together and riding you of the unnecessary piece of underwear you still had on.

Not waiting for him to take control, you spread your legs, and feasted on the carnal look he had in his eyes as he looked down at your body. He didn’t waste any time before finding the perfect spot between your legs. Your whole body shivered as he leaned his head to the side, his light stubble tickling its way down the inside of your thighs. 

And following the rough feeling of the still shy beard you didn’t think he was able to grow, when his soft lips brushed against your skin, you involuntarily clenched. You bucked your hips and your legs tried, but to no avail, to close the distance between one another. You wanted more - needed more. And he noticed it.

Looking down along your body, you could only see the top of his head. And his fingers, pressing into the skin of your legs. And the tip of his nose as he proceeded to tease you into oblivion with millions of kisses, each of them nothing less than heavenly, but still, nothing compared to what you knew was coming next. The only warning he gave you as a hurried grin, and it was nowhere near enough.

It was on. Elegantly, but with traces of dominance in his touch, and with two fingers, Harry spread your pussy wide open, his tongue lewdly slipping right inside you. The contact and the buildup made you gasp. Had you not been so over the moon and distracted already, you’d have heard him snicker in response to the sound you just made. But you were too caught up. You felt him on every inch of your body, and the signals your core were sending you, were not what you wanted.

You wanted this to last. To have him go at it, lapping at your core for hours. To feel his tongue wag until your senses went numb.It might have been the dry spell that was forced upon you as the pandemic overtook your life, or the timeless, painful crush you’ve had on him for years, but you were already on the edge.

Trying hard to make the moment last, you curled your pointer finger and shoved it into your mouth, biting down hard. Your back arched dangerously as your head flew back, but it all just worked in his favour. Your pleasure was building up, and the careful, experienced movement of Harry’s tongue against your clit was only gaining momentum.

“Yeh taste like fucking heaven but I think yeh already knew tha’” he said, for a second pulling away from your core and giving you a chance to catch your breath.

All you managed was a pathetic excuse of a nod, along with a shy roll of your eyes.

“None of tha’” Harry laughed, licking his lips, “Don’t care how close yeh are, ‘m not gonna stop until yeh moan my name, love”

“Jesus christ, Harry!” you panted, shaking your head.

He responded in a similar manner, and again, with no warning whatsoever, he went back in. This short break allowed you to regain your composure, even if it was just a tiny bit. Your excitement, although still there and just as consuming, was easier to control now. You felt his touch all throughout your body, his tongue tickling all your senses.

What brought you closer into the moment was the feeling of his hands, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs up onto his shoulders. For whatever reason, this felt even more intimate, and as his fingers sank into your flesh, you felt your engines start up again.

The delicate flicks of his tongue were getting more and more aggravated by the second, and now it was close to impossible to keep calm. Sweaty palms gripping tirelessly into the cushions under you, your back under constant strain, your eyes squeezed shut - he had you entirely.

And as if that wasn’t enough, he went further. Harry pushed one finger inside of you, moving his lips up to fully concentrate on your clit. His tongue prepared you, got you all ready and wanting, and then, he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucked - gently and with a minimal amount of pressure, but god-

“Fuck, Harry-” you called out. It was more of a cry, choked back in the depths of your throat, all breathy and muffled.

“Come on, angel” Harry whispered.

As you looked down, past your heaving chest, your eyes landed conveniently on the top of his head. Complete chaos - his unruly curls tickled the inside of your thighs, as his fingers dug into your flesh. The two rings he never takes off were sure to leave proud indents on your skin.

Harry sucked at your bundle of nerves, the eager touch of his tongue awakening absolutely every need inside your being. Add the experienced pumps of his fingers and the fact that this was Harry Styles and none other, and you were done.

With each passing second you started to lose more and more of the control you had on your body. Sweating nervously out of every pore of your body, you squirmed under his weight hoping you’d make the moment last.

“‘S good, love, isn’t it?” Harry smirked for just about a second, “I can see yeh, yeh’re a mess fo’ me”

“Fuck” you whined, covering your face with your right palm as your head tilted backwards, “Shut up”

“Oh!” Harry faked surprise, “Gettin’ cocky?”

As he spoke, Harry curled his fingers inside your pussy; maybe intentionally - maybe by chance, hitting all the right spots and making you moan out loud.

“I’ll take tha’ as an apology”

You scoffed.

Harry shook his head. When you looked down at him again, you caught him licking his lips. It was obvious he waited for you to catch him doing that.

Already at the edge of your self control, you curled your fingers into his hair, motioning for him to resume his work. He followed your lead without any complaints, and when his bottom teeth grazed your clit, even if it was light as a feather you lost it.

Your mind became numb, drunk on the pleasure he provided. Your eyes rolled back as you enjoyed every second of your high. Harry kept you spiraling, continuing to lap at your core as the muscles of your legs tensed uncontrollably around his frame.

“Holy fuck-” you breathed out, voice shaky and wounded.

He made sure to milk every ounce of pleasure out of your being, leaving you a heaving mess under his stare.

Harry pushed himself up, nonchalantly wiping his chin, his eyes not allowing yours to look away.

As you gathered yourself and worked on bringing your breathing back to normal, there was only one thought going on inside your head - that it would only be fair if you reciprocate the gesture. Thinking about it was enough to make your core buzz again, but you didn’t have it in you to bring it up, and instead hoped he’d show he wished things didn’t stop either.

But he didn’t.

However, you got to kiss him again. And no matter how badly you wanted to keep the atmosphere on fire, he had other plans. 

“Did I take good care of yeh?” Harry asked as he leaned down beside you. His hand found your cheek, keeping you in place for another longing kiss, “Did I do yeh right?”

You nodded against his lips, not willing to actually word the answer.

His chuckle made it clear that the point got through. And for a second it seemed as if the night wasn’t done. None of you was willing to pull away, and allowed the minutes to go by without a care in the world, lost in each other’s arms.

“Freakin’ love yeh, angel” Harry said.

It wasn’t the first time you’d hear this coming out of his mouth, but you couldn’t help but smile thinking this time it was meant in a different manner. You answered him by cuddling deeper into his chest, and that was a moment you wouldn’t have traded for the world.

And you fell asleep like that. No matter how big and luxurious your couch was, you still spent the night glued to one another. Harry felt every calm breath of yours on his skin and everytime he moved a bit to adjust his position, his hold tightened around you to make sure he wasn’t pushing you away.

After what was probably the best sleep you’d gotten in the whole year of 2020, morning came around. Actually it was lunch time, if we’re being generous. The sun was high up, proudly making its way into your living room, past the curtains to forgot to draw the other night.

When you awoke, Harry wasn’t there anymore. However, panic didn’t have the time to settle in as you heard movement coming from the kitchen, and the strong smell of coffee reached your nose in no time.

You got up from the couch, with herds of butterflies in your stomach. Harry’s words from last night still echoed in your head, and even now, with no alcohol in your system, they managed to bring goosebumps all over your skin.

“When did you get up?”

That was how you made your presence known.

Harry turned around with a smile on his face. He had a bag of avocados tucked under his arm, as he typed away on his phone. His undone pants were hanging onto his thighs for dear life, and the only other piece of fabric on his body was a thin, brown hair tie around his wrist. There were a few purple marks along his collar bones and his hair looked rougher than usual, things which deep down, shook you up a bit.

 “Wanted to take yeh out fo’ breakfast, but I gotta leave in like an hour, so I figured this should do”

“Yeah, yeah sure” you agreed, “It’s perfect”

“Would’ve done mo’, but Y/n, yeh have no food in this house”

You laughed, walking over to slump down into one of the chairs, “Didn’t get a chance to get any perishables”

“You got some” Harry chuckled, “You got weeks’ worth of everything you need to make guacamole and pancakes”

“I have no idea how that happened, those will spoil” you shook your head, “You can take some of them actually”

“Or I could just come over”

“Even better”

The food was ready in no time. Harry had everything done and set while you washed up a bit, and after that, you both sat down to eat. Minimal and light, but still, there was a weight in the pit of your stomach.

“About last night-” Harry began to say, but you tried to stop him.

“You don’t have to-”

“We kinda do, love” he smiled, “I need to apologise, angel”

You squinted your eyes, “For?”

“I don’t really have t’ apologise fo’ what I said because I meant every word” Harry slowly said, as if he has a hard time putting his thoughts together, “I jus’ wish I hadn’t said it like tha’ though”

“Like what?” you questioned, a bit lost.

“Like I had the right to say that kind of crap” he laughed. It was nervous laughter, like he was afraid of what was coming next, “I do fucking love yeh, but I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to hear that”

“What are you talking about, I don’t understand” you groaned, growing a bit tired of the impatience he brought upon you.

“You’re my best friend, ok?” he sighed, “That’s all we are, Y/n, and that was not supposed to happen”

The food got lodged in your throat, and you felt like if you didn’t stand up, you’d no longer be able to breathe. “It was your idea” you scoffed.

Harry’s eyes followed your frame, but he remained seated, “I know”

“So what changed? If anything even changed. I don’t understand what the problem is. You regret we did what we did-”

“I don’t regret anything” Harry butted it.

“You said it was not supposed to happen!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes as you walked over to the sink, just to make yourself useful and to stop just standing in front of him.

“The things I said to you-” he said sternly, pushing his chair back and throwing his hands into the air, “I shouldn’t have said those, ok? It doesn’t matter who meant what, I told you things that-”

“What did you tell me that’s bothering you so much?” you almost yelled, annoyance dripping out of your pores. You walked over to him, and he closed the distance by standing up.

“I-” Harry stuttered, playing with his hair to buy himself some more time. “All the-”

“What?” you pushed, “That you like everything about me? That’s what you regret saying? And what else?”

“God” he groaned, “I don’t regret saying tha’, it’s just tha’ it wasn’t my place to say it”

You fell silent.

“If I were you... I’d want to hear those things from someone that is more than just a friend to me” he confessed.

“And you can’t be that to me? More than a friend?”

After a few seconds of painful silence, realization hit him, “Y/n…”

He did reach out. He took a step towards you but you stepped back. The remorse in his tone was too painful to ignore. So you moved away from him and slowly made your way out of the kitchen.

“Y/n!” Harry called, following you.

“Just go”

“Please...”

“Please what?” you shook your head, but he didn’t have the words you needed to hear.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fucking fine” you sighed, walking backwards towards your room, “Just show yourself out”

[ibuki-loves-you]

We'll meet again... (Hajime Hinata x Reader)

Warnings: Angst, death, mentions of hanging, mentions of sl/t throat

Mod Ibuki: This is a little something @call-me-ko and I wrote together! It's based off of Chapter 4 of SDR2. Y/N takes Ibuki's place in the murder. I hope you enjoy!

Two lovers laid in eachothers' arms. Hajime Hinata, his ultimate unknown, and Y/N L/N, the ultimate Y/T.

Hajime's eyes fluttered open. He winced at the bright light. When his eyes adjusted, he turned his head to look at his sleeping lover. He took his right hand that was around Y/N to their hair, gently stroking their head.

Hajime slowly stopped, placing the fingertips of his other hand on their forehead. After feeling an unnatural temperature, he pressed his lips against their forehead to double check. After a moment, Hajime retracted his head back.

That's not good...

"S/O...hey." Hajime gently shook their shoulder. Y/N opened their eyes silently. They looked up at Hajime, receiving a comforting smile in return.

"Hey...morning." Hajime whispered, looking for any trace of sickness in their features. Y/N blinked. "Good morning. How are you?" They asked stiffly. Hajime winced. "I'm...okay. How are you?" Y/N patted his chest. "I feel fine. We should go to the dining hall. Everyone is waiting."

With that, Y/N stood up. Their face remained stoic. Hajime placed a hand at the small of their back.

"You have a fever...are you sure? Maybe you should just lie down and I'll tell the others you aren't feeling well." Hajime offered. Y/N shook their head.

"I am fine. There's no need to worry."

He should've known

He should've known

If he pushed a little harder, he wouldn't be in this position.

He wouldn't have to see his lover dangling from a rope around their neck with a bag on their head.

"I-I c-can't...I need air." Hajime muttered. Everyone nodded in understanding.

Hajime pushed through the double doors and slowly pushed down the wall. He buried his face in his knees and began sobbing. He felt as if he couldn't breathe.

His significant other. His sweet, harmless significant other.

Hajime would never get that image out of his head.

With a deep breath, Hajime stood up. He walked back into the music venue with a sigh.

Y/N's body was no longer on the support beam. Gundham, Kazuichi, and Fuyuhiko had helped laid the body down while the others occupied themselves investigating Hiyoko's body.

"I didn't even notice Hiyoko died too.." Hajime thought. A pair of fingers snapped in front of him.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Fuyuhiko said apatheticly. He looked down at this shoes. "We all cared about them. I have no clue who did it." He added. Hajime didn't respond, just stared at Y/N. Their face was hidden by Mikan examining them.

"So what happened?" Hajime asked bluntly. Fuyuhiko looked taken aback, but quickly recovered. "They were strangled beforehand. That's really all we know. And that's it's warm as fuck in here...can someone turn down the damn heat!?" Fuyuhiko yelled.

"No! It may pertain to the investigation!" Nagito walked out of the storage room. "It makes it harder to investigate the body, we can't determine a time of death because of the temperature. Leave it, please." Nagito ordered. Fuyuhiko rolled his eyes. "Of fucking course. Because this can't be easy."

Soon enough, it was time for the trial.

"I think it's best to assume the murder weapon is the rope." Nagito started.

"This is real..." Hajime mumbled. "Hajime, you want justice for Y/N, right?" Chiaki asked calmly. Hajime looked up and nodded. "Of course I do." Chiaki nodded in response. "Then we need to get through this trial. Give yourself closure and make Y/N proud." Hajime took a shaky breath and nodded.

"Make Y/N proud..." Hajime whispered to himself. "...I won't let you down."

"Then the killer must have gotten the bag from the theater!" Hajime exclaimed. Everyone nodded in agreement. "This proves Y/N didn't commit a murder-suicide." Nagito responded. "H-How?" Mikan questioned.

"Because that bag was a limited item. It was buy one, get one, that was that. And I know for a fact Y/N never went to the theater." Hajime explained. He looked over at your stand, expected a smile for making a good point. He felt a pang in his chest when all he was met with was your portrait.

Mikan let out an exasperated sigh under her breath. "That brings us down to who watched the movie motive, right?" Kazuichi asked. Hajime nodded. "...Then who watched the motive video?" Gundham added. Everyone looked at eachother.

"Well, shit." Fuyuhiko cursed. "We all know that no one is gonna fess up. So-" "We're stuck." Hajime finished. Fuyuhiko nodded in agreement.

Everyone stood silent, contemplating their next move.

"I think I may be able to help you."

All heads turned to the 9th podium.

"Y-Y/N?" Hajime mumbled. Y/N sent him a smile.

"The one and only." Their attire returned back to their uniform, not the hospital gown they died in. Everything seemed normal...then Hajime looked at the hand that gripped the podium.

"W-What happened to your hand?" Hajime stuttered. Y/N raised their arm, examining it. It was black and silver, evidently metal. Y/N sighed. "Accident, that's not import-"

"HOW THE HELL ARE YOU ALIVE!?" Mikan screeched. "Mikan?" Akane asked, confusion evident in her tone. "I WATCHED THE LIGHT GO OUT IN YOUR EYES. HOW ARE YOU HERE?! I DON'T U-UNDERSTAND!" Mikan screamed. Her eyes began swirling. "Can you stop screaming? It's annoying." Nagito said, a scoff following the statement. Mikan snapped her head in his direction. "Annoying? Well, I think you'd have the same reaction if you put yourself in my shoes." Mikan said darkly, her tone dropping to a near hum.

Hajime scowled. "Was that a confession?" He asked. Mikan smiled. "I suppose there is no hiding it now...yes, it was." Fuyuhiko's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "What the hell has gotten into you?" He growled. "Chick's lost it, that's what!" Akane responded.

Mikan let out a sigh. It had sounded like she had been dreaming. "My beloved wanted them...Hiyoko just happened to walk in as I was committing the crime." She paused. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT! MY BELOVED WANTED THEM! SO FORGIVE ME!" Mikan screamed. Everyone jumped. Y/N glared at Mikan. "There you go...mine and Hiyoko's killer. Hajime, can you please end this?" Hajime gazed at them. Y/N sent a comforting smile his way, as if telling him that he could do it. Hajime nodded. "So here's what happened..."

Hajime spent a few moments giving a rundown of the murder. From how Y/N was strangled to how Hiyoko had her throat slit.

"Isn't that right, Mikan Tsumiki, the Ultimate Nurse?" Hajime finished. Mikan giggled. "Just let me see my beloved already~"

Mikan was dragged off to her execution. Y/N stood behind Hajime, their real hand in his shoulder.

Hajime swung around and embraced them, sobbing into their shoulder. Hajime cradled their head with one of his hands. Y/N held him close and whispered hushed assurances.

"I-I'm so sorry! I should've forced you to stay. I-If I did, t-then we would get out together. I-I'm so s-sorry-"

"You'll see them again." Hajime looked up from Y/N's shoulder, face red from crying. He was met with himself, except one eye was red. Everyone looked at the three in confusion.

"W-What?" Hajime questioned weakly. The man repeated himself. "I know how much it hurts, I am you afterall. You will see them again, don't worry." 'Hajime' explained. 'Hajime' placed a hand on Y/N's unoccupied shoulder. He gently tugged them back. 'Hajime' took their hand, lacing their fingers together.

"I love you, Hajime. Don't forget that." Y/N said. They gave him one last smile and seemingly disappeared with the other Hajime.

"...I love you too, Y/N. Forever and always."

[sleepysnk]

have fun ;)

Team Player: Chapter Nine

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: suggestive content

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Eren sat next to (Y/N) in the class they shared together. It was an early morning and the two both felt exhausted. The two planned overnight on what they were going to practice at the field, Eren had access since he was an athlete, but the two had to be quick. Campus security was strict on any students out past curfew. 

"So what time again?" Eren asked, looking over at her. 

Her eyes averted towards his. "I have class until 7, so I can go right after." she replied.

He nodded. "Sounds good.. come by my dorm and I'll give you a ball and we can practice," he said, a small smile growing on his face as his mind flashed images of the two playing catch. 

"Ugh! What if I suck? I guarantee I can barely throw a football," she said, rolling her eyes. 

He put his hand on her shoulder. "You got this! I believe in you (Y/N),"

Her cheeks grew hot from his touch and his words. Eren had an odd way of making her feel flustered. 

"I'll try my best to believe that.." she mumbled before looking up at the front of the class where Professor Ackerman stood. 

"Good morning.. today is going to be a pretty short lesson. I'll be releasing you all early today, so I hope you cooperate for this to go smoothly." he said, eyes roaming among the students. 

(Y/N) sighed, taking out her laptop to take notes. Eren did the same, he watched as she chewed her lip. For some reason, he always liked when she bit her lip, it was something he found.. attractive? 

"Eren." 

His eyes looked towards the front of the class where Professor Ackerman was staring at him. 

"U-Uh.. yes?" he asked, nodding his head. 

The stoic man sighed. "I get you think (Y/N) is cute, but please pay attention." he replied, turning back towards the board. 

Eren's face grew pink as he felt many eyes staring at him, (Y/N)'s being one of them. 

"Yeah Eren.." she whispered, giggling a bit at his cuteness. 

He rolled his eyes before elbowing her side, causing a small yelp to escape her lips. She glared at him and returned back to her notes, a wide grin appearing on his features. He just loved messing with her. 

Eren ended up zoning out while taking notes. His mind wandered to other things like football, sleep, (Y/N), wait what?

"Eren!" 

He turned his head to meet her gaze, she was putting her stuff away. "Class is over, come on," she said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

He blinked for a moment before putting his stuff into his bag. 30 minutes really flashed like that? 

"I barely paid attention to what he was saying.." Eren said, rubbing his tired eyes. 

She exited the classroom with him by her side. "Trust me.. I don't understand Ackerman much either. Sasha had him and almost failed his class," she replied, nudging his arm a bit. 

A smile grew onto his lips. "Yeah I guess he is…" he said, turning his head to look at her. 

There was that stare again.

His eyes wandered to the small features of her face, (Y/N) was so pretty to him. 

"Do you wanna head to your dorm? You know.. to pick up the football?" she asked, breaking his thoughts. 

"Y-Yeah! Let's go," he replied, heading towards the exit of the campus building. 

She followed him to his residence hall. Eren was walking pretty quickly, curse him and his long legs. (Y/N) slowly caught up, grabbing his arm in the process. 

"Slow down! I almost lost you there," she said, trying to catch her breath. 

Pink dusted onto his cheeks. "My bad! I'll slow down.." he muttered before opening the door to his building.

She rolled her eyes before following him down the hall to his dorm, she had only been to his dorm about once. The one time she helped him clean it. She silently prayed she wasn't this gross guy who just dirtied his room after cleaning it, that would for sure disappoint her. 

He opened it and ushered her inside, her eyes scanned the room. He still kept it neat, surprisingly.

"I should have one around here somewhere," Eren said, opening his drawer. He dug around the dresser for a moment before pulling out the football. "Here ya go!"

He tossed it to her, she caught it and eyed the ball. She hadn't touched one in a pretty long time. 

"So 7:30 right?" she said, looking at him. 

He smiled, "Yeah for sure! I'll text you when I'm on my way," he replied. 

She nodded, "Sounds good! I'll see you then. I gotta head to my next class.. so uh, I'll text you!" she said before heading towards the door. 

He waved, "See you later!" 

She made her way out of his dorm. Eren smiled to himself, (Y/N) was such a cute idiot. He couldn't get over it, the way she eyed the football made him happy, she looked so cute. 

Maybe tonight would go well… maybe, just maybe, Eren could see her as more than a friend. 

-

Eren was awoken in his dorm by his phone going off. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was dark out. He could faintly see the lights from the campus shining into his room, lighting up the walls.

A groan escaped his mouth as he grabbed his phone, Jean was calling him for some reason. 

"Hello?" Eren said, his voice deep and groggy from sleep. 

"Finally! Dude I've called you like four times! Were you sleeping?" Jean asked over the phone. 

He rubbed his tired eyes, "Yeah I was.. what do you want though? Where are you?" he asked. He could faintly hear some background noise.

"I'm at Connie's frat right now! You should come by! This party is getting pretty lit, plus you have been laying low on partying anyway," Jean replied. 

Eren looked at the time on his phone, it read 7:00. 

He contemplated for a moment, would going out partying even be worth it? He had been kind of low on the party scene lately, it may help him feel a bit better. 

"Fine… I'll be there in 10," he replied, sitting up on his bed. 

"Sick! I'll see you then!" Jean replied before hanging up the phone with a click. 

Eren sighed, he stood up and turned on the light to his room. He put on a black zip up hoodie and some grey sweatpants, he wasn't exactly looking to impress and do much. Maybe a few shots and that's all? Plus it was a Wednesday night. 

As Eren exited his dorm, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something. Did he have assignments? No. Practice? No. He wasn't exactly sure what was missing, he just shrugged it off and made his way to the frat house. 

Little did he know… he was forgetting something.

-

Eren downed his third shot that night, the burning of the alcohol went down his throat and to his stomach. He placed the glass onto the table, leaning back against the cushions of the couch. 

"You want another?" Connie asked, holding the bottle towards him. 

Eren shook his head, "Nah.. I'm good."

He felt a weight next to him, Jean was sitting next to him now. His face was lightly pink from the alcohol he consumed earlier, Jean was such a lightweight drunk. 

"So Jaeger when are you even coming back on the team? You've been benched for weeks," he asked, looking at him.

Eren sighed, "I dunno.. maybe if coach actually listened to me." he replied with a shrug. 

Jean slung his arm around his shoulder, "You got this! I think you'll be back soon," he slurred. 

Eren pushed Jean off of him, "You smell like beer dude, go somewhere else." 

He furrowed his brows, "Shut it! You seem grumpy.. did (Y/N) stop letting you hit or something?" Jean asked, crossing his arms. 

Eren's eyes grew wide at Jean's words.

Shit!

"Oh shit.. fuck! (Y/N)!" Eren yelled.

"Huh? Is everything okay Eren?" Connie asked, looking at him with furrowed brows.

He fumbled for his phone, the time read 8:20. It all hit him at once. Eren was supposed to be at the field practicing with her, it totally slipped his mind! He also noticed the missed texts and phone calls he had from her. 

(Y/N): 9 missed calls

7:02 <-(Y/N): hey i'm done with class!

7:10 <-(Y/N): uh hello? did you fall asleep?

7:19 <-(Y/N): Eren??? dude i'm at the field

7:21 <-(Y/N): dude seriously, where are you?

7:32 <-(Y/N): Eren, i'm not playing anymore. where are you??? you were supposed to be here.

7:41 <-(Y/N): wtf dude?? are you seriously ditching me?? this isn't funny Eren.

7:49 <-(Y/N): i'm giving you 15 more minutes if you're not gonna show up, i'm leaving.

8:01<-(Y/N): okay cool. ignore me, thanks for being an asshole. i thought you were cool but i guess people never change huh? don't even bother coming.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I gotta go, see you guys later." Eren said before rushing up the stairs out of the basement. 

Eren rushed out of the frat house, he pushed past a few people and got outside. The wind picked up as he rushed towards the campus, he couldn't go to sleep tonight knowing that he forgot. He felt so guilty, that was fucked up for him to do. 

In the distance storm clouds brewed, lightning flared in the sky lighting up the darkening clouds. Thunder boomed in the horizon as the wind began to blow around the fall leaves. 

Just what I need, a fucking storm Eren thought as he rushed to the practice fields. 

The bright lights were still on, unfortunately Eren didn't see (Y/N). He looked around the field, maybe she was in her car? 

Eren fished for his phone to call her. "Come on pick up.." he groaned, looking around the empty field. The wind blowing in his hair. 

"So.. you finally decided to show up."

He turned to see (Y/N) leaning against the small bench, her arms crossed. 

"(Y/N)! I-I'm.. I didn't mean-"

"Just save it. I don't wanna hear your excuses," she cut him off. 

Eren tried coming towards her, "I'm sorry! I didn't get your texts and everything slipped my mind!" 

She rolled her eyes, "You left me here for an hour! I genuinely thought you were a nice guy.. but I guess some people never change. Just do this all yourself." she replied, tossing the football at him. 

He watched as she began to walk away, the storm in the distance beginning to get closer. He ran towards her, grabbing her forearm. 

"(Y/N).. please don't go, there is a storm right now and I don't want you walking by yourself." he said, looking at her with concern in his eyes. 

She tried pulling away from him, "Eren just go! You clearly don't give a shit, just go back to your stupid party. I could care less.." she mumbled. 

The crash of the thunder made him look up at the sky, "(Y/N)! I'm being serious! We need to go inside, just come with me okay!?" he yelled. 

She scoffed, "Just fuck off dude! Let me go back to my dorm!" she argued back. 

Eren was beginning to get frustrated with her, "I already explained! I get what I did wasn't cool! Just stop fucking around and let's go! The dorms are so far and you'll be walking in the rain, just come with me already!" he replied. 

Droplets of water began to fall from the sky, darkening the material of Eren's clothes. Lightning flashed along the sky and thunder followed soon after, booming and rumbling making the ground slightly shake. 

"No! Just let me go back by myself, I don't need your fucking help. You're such an ass! I wish I never helped you, God, I was so dumb to even think you changed!" she yelled as the rain pelted down on them. 

He stayed silent, the rain hitting his head and making his hair wet. It soon began to fall at a quicker pace. 

"I'm leaving.." she mumbled before starting to turn away. 

Suddenly, Eren grabbed her arm and put his hand behind her head, pulling her into a kiss. At first she didn't move, then her lips suddenly began to move against his. Her arms went to his neck. 

The rain fell onto them, soaking their clothes and making the ground below them wet. The kiss they shared was raw, passionate, and it broke the tension they've been having for the past two weeks. 

"Just shut up (Y/N).." he said before pressing his lips back onto hers. 

His arms snaked around her waist, bringing her closer to his skin. She shivered a bit as the wind blew against her wet flesh. 

"E-Eren.." she said, breaking the kiss between them. Her lips puffy. 

He looked up at the sky, "Let's go.. we're gonna get sick," he said. 

He took her hand into his, her cheeks growing hot as he guided her through the wet field and towards the locker rooms. Eren had snuck a key and he always kept it on him just in case he ever needed a way back into school, he silently hoped (Y/N) wouldn't tell anyone. 

He slid the key inside of the lock and turned it a few times, he felt the click of the lock and pulled the door open so she could step inside the locker room. Nobody would be around at this hour so nobody would catch them.

(Y/N) shivered entering the locker room, both of their clothes were soaking wet; the cooler air made goosebumps form onto Eren's skin. 

"Just sit right here," Eren said, pointing at a spot in front of his locker. 

(Y/N) plopped down, the sound of her wet leggings hitting the surface of the bench. Her hair was soaking, so was her outfit, she had no idea how she was going to explain this to Sasha. 

Eren walked into the showers, his eyes scanning for the towels they kept for the players. He opened the door to the closet and grabbed two of the white ones, he hoped nobody would notice they were missing since his coach kept count of all that shit. 

The squelching of Eren's shoes made (Y/N) look up, he tossed her the towel before sitting down next to her. 

"I'm sorry again.. if you don't want to help anymore, you don't have to." he said, looking at her. 

She rubbed the material along her face and through her hair. A sigh escaping her lips before she spoke, "I'm not gonna stop helping you.. that's not who I am, but I wish I got some kind of heads up." 

Eren nodded, wiping some water off his face. "That's my fault and I'm sorry for that," he replied. 

She looked at the ground. "You're forgiven.. but Eren," she said, looking at him. 

His eyes averted towards her, his head nodding to the side. "Hm?" he asked.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. "Why did you kiss me?"

Eren let out air through his nose, he leaned against the lockers behind him. His back pressing against a lock, why did he kiss her? Was it just the heat of the moment? Did he want to release the tension they had? 

He clicked his tongue, "Being honest.. I don't know. I guess in a way.. I like you, I hate to admit it but I do," he said. 

Her eyes widened a little, Eren Jaeger liked her? She wasn't exactly upset.. she felt the same way and it was blatantly obvious at that point since she did lean into the kiss and she could feel the tension between them the last few weeks. 

"E-Eren.." she whispered. 

He looked at her, "What? I know you don't like me back," he mumbled.

She stuck out her hand to touch his face which was now dry, her fingers ran along his skin. "I do like you.." 

He froze for a second, she was never one to tell a lie and by the way she spoke he could tell she was being truthful with him. 

He turned his body to face her, their knees were now touching and tingles came from the touch. Eren's hand found its way to her cheek, he used the pad of his thumb to wipe away a few stray rain drops that laid on her skin. 

Their faces leaned into one another, their lips connecting into a kiss. 

Her hands found their way into Eren's damp brunette locks, pulling him down closer to her. Eren's hand found its way to her waist where he squeezed the flesh, some of the material of her shirt was damp and it made his hands wet. 

"I want you.." Eren whispered, his breath uneven. 

She looked into his eyes. "I want you more.." 

His hands went towards her thighs, his fingers rubbing circles on the skin; it made her jolt a bit. 

"You like that huh..?" he asked with a smirk forming on his features. 

She playfully smacked his arm. "Oh shut up," she replied, her eyes rolling. 

He smirked before moving his head to her neck, he pressed his lips against her skin; his lips were hot, almost feverish. They attacked her neck making her skin feel warm. 

A soft moan escaped her mouth feeling his tongue glide against her sweet spot, he was about to bite down when a buzzing broke him out of his thoughts. 

(Y/N) slightly groaned when she reached in her pocket for her phone. Eren leaned away and furrowed his brows, pondering as to who could be calling right now. 

"Hello?" she said, chewing her bottom lip. 

"(Y/N)!? Hello!? Dude I've been texting you for an hour! Where are you? It's storming like crazy outside and I knew you were out with Eren, is everything okay?" 

She instantly knew it was Sasha. 

She sighed, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine Sasha. Eren took me to his dorm, we actually got rained on. I'll be back soon," she replied, her eyes wandering towards Eren who seemed unfazed. 

She could hear Sasha chewing on food. "Okay! Have fun! I'll see you soon," she said. 

(Y/N) hung up and placed her phone down next to her leg. "Sorry about that," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. 

Eren chuckled, "You're fine.. I think we should get back anyway, I don't want the janitor to come and find us here," he replied before standing up. 

He held out his hand for her and she took it with a smile on her face, she shivered a bit since her clothes were still somewhat wet from being outside in the rain. Eren took notice of this and went to his locker.

"Hold on a sec," he said, making (Y/N) stop in her tracks. 

She nodded as she watched him unlock his locker, he grabbed what seemed to be a hoodie. It had the University colors on it. He slammed his locker before locking it up and turning towards her. 

"You should take this.. it's really cold and I don't want you getting sick," he said, holding out the fabric for her. 

Her cheeks grew hot, but she just took the sweater from him. "Thank you.." she said, holding it close to her chest. 

He smiled, "Of course! Now let me take you back to the dorms, it's the least I can do." 

She smiled before following Eren out of the locker room. 

-

The long walk back to (Y/N)'s dorm was quite fun, the two had encountered a few professors along the way and they had to hide in bathrooms to make sure they wouldn't get caught. 

It was something (Y/N) wasn't used to, she was always staying out of trouble and she was seen as a good girl most of the time. Eren found that to be quite amusing, regarding the circumstances anyway. 

He leaned against the wall that was next to her dorm door. "So uh.. tonight was something," he said, chuckling a bit.

(Y/N) giggled, "It definitely was.. but I had a lot of fun. Even if I'm freezing right now," she replied. 

Eren looked at her, "I- uh.. I hope you know I meant what I said about liking you.. I really do and I want to be more than just a friend to you," he said, his cheeks slightly pink. 

She looked at the ground before looking back up at Eren. "I meant what I said too.. I do like you, Eren."

"I mean.. by the way you moaned earlier.." he smirked. 

She smacked his arm again. "Oh shut it! I'll kick your ass, but anyway.. I do want to have something more," she said, rocking on her heels. 

Eren smiled, "Sounds good.. can I kiss you again?" he asked. 

She nodded her head before leaning into his face again, Eren put his hands onto her shoulders giving them a small squeeze before pulling away. 

"Kissing you hits different," he whispered before kissing her cheek. 

Her cheeks were hot, "You're such a dork.. goodnight Eren!" she said, putting her hand on the knob of the door. 

He chuckled, "Goodnight (Y/N)."

Eren walked back to his dorm with a giant grin on his face, he felt like he just won a game just now; but this time.. he won something special. (Y/N).

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @erensapologist @luvrboykento @callmepromise @katsuhera @moomii-hime @flam3bird @thicmitten @daughter-of-the-stars11 @just-a-little-sad @lunamoonawatcher @sofi-yeager @ryan249057 @chayauwu @bell0214 @jaegercult

[nightshade-minho]

-My Little Virgin-

fratboy!Jisung + virgin!Reader

Request: fratboy!jisung where his crush on you is way too obvious and you guys end up hooking up?? bdkdks thank u feel free to take this request in whatever direction 👉🏻👈🏻

Warnings: grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, hickeys, corruption kink, virgin kink.

You took a sip from your red cup, watching as everyone in the room danced and basically went crazy, grinding on each other and tossing back alcohol like it’s water.

You were by the kitchen table, grabbing a cookie from a bowl and biting into it as you sighed. You’d only come to this party cause Yeji had forced you to. It was held at her brother’s frat house, and she said she needed someone to drive her home.

You’d promised her you wouldn’t get drunk, but one cup wouldn’t hurt, right? You were bored out of your mind.

Suddenly you felt someone poke you in the side. You turned around slightly to see Jisung with a wide, toothy grin. You internally groaned. It was way too obvious that the boy wanted to add you to his list of conquests, but he’d never declared it outright.

“Well, if it isn’t Y/n! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I came with Yeji.”

“Oh. Hyunjin’s twin?”

You nodded. “She’s my roommate.”

“Ah.” Jisung grabbed your cup, gulping down the remainder of what was in it.

“She’s kinda hot. Strictly off-limits though.”

You grimaced. “If you want her number, you’re gonna have to ask her yourself.”

Jisung shook his head. “I don’t want her number. She isn’t my type.” He looked you up and down. “You are, though.”

You nearly choked on the cookie, your eyes widening. “Wha- Huh?” He was finally admitting it?

“I said what I said. You’re way too cute for your own good...and I can tell you’re a virgin.”

You laughed. “So that’s what it is? You want to take someone’s virginity? There’s plenty of other girls here Jisung, why me?”

“Well...there’s just something about you. The way your eyes are so wide and pure.”

He leaned in, whispering in your ear. “Makes me wanna fuck the innocence right out of you.”

Your entire face turned red as Jisung leaned back, a dark look on his face. His smile from earlier was gone, replaced by a far more sinister demeanor. “You wanna dance?”

You contemplated saying no, but the way he was eyeing you automatically made you blurt your approval. Jisung smirked lazily before taking your hand and leading you to the ‘dance floor’.

The music was very sensual, and you felt slightly awkward, but those feelings quickly melted away as Jisung pressed himself to your back. He put his hands on your thighs as he moved you against him to the beat, and you felt yourself getting turned on. A few minutes ago, you were laughing at the incessant grinding that was happening around you, yet now you were more than happy to be one of them. Especially because now, Jisung was kissing your neck softly, licking and biting as you suppressed your moans.

He slid his hands up your crop top, pawing at your boobs as he turned your face to the side and pressed his lips to yours. You felt electric, everything else melting away as Jisung moved his lips against yours.

He moved his lips up your cheek and to your ear. “Wanna go upstairs?”

•••

A few minutes later you were pressed to the mattress in his room, his body above you as he frantically helped you remove your clothes.

He stepped back for a moment, admiring your naked body under him. “So beautiful.” He whispered under his breath, before taking his shirt off. He left his pants on, his mouth coming back down to leave kisses all over your torso and boobs. He gave each nipple an open-mouthed kiss before he came back to your lips.

“Can’t believe you’re under me right now, looking like an absolute angel. Nervous?”

“A little.”

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll no longer be an angel. You’ll be my little cockslut, willing to do whatever I please.”

You moaned as he traced his finger down your body, reaching your pussy. He ran a finger down your slit, before slowly pushing it in, looking at your face to make sure you were okay.

You whimpered, clutching the bed sheet as he pressed another finger in. He kissed your cheek. “That alright, babe?” You nodded and he chuckled, starting to pump his fingers in and out.

“You’re so wet. Already a whore for my fingers, wonder how much you’ll drench my cock.”

After he’d fingered you for a few seconds, he pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean before unzipping his pants and taking his cock out.

“Ngh, look how hard you made me, baby.”

He led it to your pussy, using his head to spread his pre-cum over your labia. “Now, this’ll hurt just a little, okay?”

You nodded, before he started shoving his cock into your entrance. You winced, about to scream at the stretch, but Jisung quickly sealed your lips with his, letting his tongue dance with yours as he bottomed out.

He pulled back, his lust-filled eyes roving over you as he let you adjust to his girth. He pulled out to the tip, before slamming it back into you. You moaned loudly, clenching around him as he started to thrust into you.

“Gah, fuck. You should see your face right now baby. You look so ethereal, speared on my cock like this.”

He filled you over and over again, his lips leaving hickeys all over your chest and collarbones as he fucked you hard.

“Shit...look at that. Your virgin pussy is sucking my cock in so desperately. Little slut...”

He reached down to rub your clit, watching as you scrunched your eyes shut with pleasure. “Jisung...gonna...cum-“

“Cum.”

You let go, your orgasm hitting you solidly, shaking as he continued pounding into you.

“Fuck babe, gonna ruin you. Gonna cover you with my cum.”

He came, pulling out halfway and showering you with his seed.

You moaned as you lay there, eyes half open.

Jisung leaned down to kiss you again. “All naked, covered with my cum...just the way it’s supposed to be.”

He stroked your vulva proudly. “You took it really well, considering it was your first time.”

You smiled weakly. He paused, before looking down. “Hey, y/n...I hope you know this isn’t a one night stand or anything. I actually really like you. You’re so smart, and funny...the answers you give the lecturer during class are so creative and witty. You’re brilliant.” He gave you another kiss on your lips. “I’ll go get a towel to clean you up. But please...consider going out with me?”

He smiled so softly and endearingly that you pulled him close, giggling as you hooked your arms around his neck.

“Sure.”

[houseof-harry]

Oh my god yes you should totally write something about sucking gray off in the bathroom of a bar cuz u got jealous

I can so see him coming just to be your DD because he wants to know you get home safe from your night out with your friends.

What he didn’t anticipate was the female attention from the girls standing next to you guys after you left to get another round for your group.

So when you came back? He knew you’d be annoyed, but he’d never truly seen you drunk, only ever the aftermath. And drunk you does not fuck around.

So before he knows what’s happening, you’re literally dragging him away while he’s in the middle of a conversation with the girl who was touching him too much. He apologizes over his shoulder for the both of you, but you don’t stop walking as you make a beeline for the bathroom.

It’s only once you’re in it with the door locked that you’re looking at him.

“Y/N, what the fuck was that? I was-”

“Do you want her in here on her knees or me?” You challenge, hand on your hip.

He sputters, your bluntness coming as a shock to him. You both stand there for a moment, your eyes wild as he looks over at you and then around the bathroom. “What do you mean?” It was unlike you to want to do anything like that in a dirty ass bathroom at a bar, and he wasn’t sure if he was a horny guy or if you actually meant what he thought you did.

“Do you want her in here, on her knees, while you fuck her face? Or do you want me?” You take a step towards him but he stays frozen in his spot. You don’t usually have much to say when you and Grayson fuck, so to hear these words coming from you was not only new for him, but also making his dick harden.

“Obviously you. Why are you even asking?” It’s only then that he realizes how jealous you are. He smirks, a wave of confidence rushing over him. “You’re jealous.”

Your cheeks warm as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, your breath catching in your throat. “Do you want me to suck you off or not?” You counter.

“Course, baby. If you were dying for my cock, all you had to do was ask.” He doesn’t hesitate another moment before he’s working on his zipper.

You bite your lip, sinking to your knees in front of him. You help him pull his rather tight pants down, only getting them to right above his knees before you flatten your tongue at the base of his almost completely hard cock over his underwear. You slowly move your tongue to the tip, the fabric getting warm and wet from your saliva.

He groans at the sensation, his hand moving to your hair. “Come on baby, no teasing. We’re gonna make the line long.”

You ponder his words for a moment, knowing that even though there’s a second bathroom, having one out of commission for a while would not only make the line longer, but people would probably figure out what was going on with you two. You liked the thought of that, knowing that bitch would probably know what happened between you and Grayson while you were gone, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. If he was too distracted, it wouldn’t be any fun.

So you decide to pull his boxers down to where his pants still rested on his thighs, his cock springing up and hitting the bottom of his shirt. You lick your lips at the sight, truly enamored by it. Sometimes it really felt like you could never get enough, and when tequila was running through your veins? Forget it.

Your wrap your fingers around the base to keep it steady as you repeat your action from before, appreciate the taste and feel of his skin against your taste buds rather than the fabric of his underwear.

“Thought I was gonna fuck your face,” he huffs out, as pride bubbles through him. He couldn’t believe such a beautiful woman was sat on her knees in front of him in a bathroom at the bar because she was jealous of some random girl he didn’t even know the name of.

You sit back on your heals, your hands moving to your lap as you look up at him with your tongue out.

“There she is,” he mumbles, bringing his hand to your face, his fingers splaying over your cheek as his thumb holds your jaw in place.

His pointer finger moves down and over your tongue once, feeling how wet it is with saliva. “Ready?”

You merely whine in response, your patience wearing thin. He watches you shift on the tile and feels bad for a moment, but that quickly washes away as he feels his cock twitch at the reality of the situation.

He doesn’t waste another second, guiding his cock to your mouth with his free hand.

He only goes about halfway at first, gauging your reaction the entire time. You seemed to be doing well, so he decides to pull out and push back in the same amount a few times to get used to the new warmth of your mouth.

It felt good, the heaviness of his cock on your tongue. And watching him from this angle, his fingers still holding your mouth open as he started to fuck into you was glorious. He was using you for his pleasure, and you could see how good he already felt just from the few strokes into your mouth.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned, his hips continuing to move at a steady pace. You were waiting for more, however. You both knew you could take it, and you weren’t sure why he wasn’t going all the way in.

This made you groan around him, both in frustration and want. You needed him to know you wanted it too. His eyes shot from his cock to yours, his brow raising as he felt your cheek rise and fall with each of his thrusts.

“Need more of my cock, baby?”

You did what you could to nod, and that was all he needed to start fucking your face like he would your pussy.

All of a sudden his tip was at the back of your throat as his pace quickened. He was grunting above you, watching your face contour around his dick accordingly with each movement of his hips. He could hear every time you choked and would feel your throat constrict around him.

It occurred to you that the people outside could probably hear you, too, but you didn’t give a fuck. Watching this man hunch over you as he used your mouth for his pleasure was enough to make you forget the entire world.

“Fuck, baby. Always feel so good for me,” he whines, his other hand finding your hair so that he had complete control of your head. He was moving you in sync with his hips so that he was slamming you down every time, your nose catching on the corse hair at his base.

It was only when his grip got tighter on you that his hips stuttered and you knew he was close. His eyes were on you but you knew his brain was foggy as he watched with wonder as you took him completely in your mouth every time. You could feel the ache in your jaw and the tenderness in your throat, but watching him get like this was worth it.

“Fuck, gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum.” His quick breathing caused his words to almost sound like whispers, his chest lifting and falling fast as his cum started to shoot into the back of your throat.

You choked on it for a moment before swallowing around his cock, doing your best to take all of it. 

As soon as his dick fell from your lips, you sucked in a large breath, your lungs burning from the lack of quality breathing you’d been prevented from doing the past few minutes. You watch him lean back against the counter, his head rolled back on his shoulders to look at the ceiling as he did his best to even his own breathing.

You stood slowly, your knees aching as you came to your feet. You didn’t care though as you watched his blissed out face slowly come to look at you.

“That fucking mouth,” is all he’s able to huff out, and you giggle as you approach him.

“Only my mouth, right?”

He pouts at this, his hands falling to your hips as his thoughts finally come back to why you’re here in the first place.

“Always. Everything is only ever you. Can’t imagine doing life with anybody else. It’s crazy to me you’d ever think otherwise.”

You nod, giving his bicep a squeeze before you help him to pull his pants back up.

“I know. That fucking bitch just couldn’t keep her hands to herself, though. Didn’t like thinking about you with anyone else.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “She was a little touchy. But you have nothing to worry about. Especially not when you did shit like that.” He waves his hand around at where you’d been on the floor moments ago.

“Oh, so you’re only with me because I can fit your whole dick in my mouth?” You tease.

“Of course not,” he reassures. “It’s also because you let me put it in your ass.”

You scoff, shoving him as you move to fix your makeup in the mirror as you watch him chuckle. Luckily, there wasn’t too much damage done, just a bit of smudging under your eyes. You’re quick to wipe it away as you feel him move closer to the door, one hand around your waist.

“Gonna let me take you home so I can do that too?”

You bite your lip as if you’re contemplating his offer. Eventually you shrug, turning to face him. “I guess.”

“Good. Only girl I ever wanna bring home,” he mumbles as he grabs your chin to kiss you once more before grabbing your hand and exiting the bathroom.

You bring your thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth as you following behind him, making eye contact with the bitch who was all over him before, her and her friends waiting for the bathroom.

All you can do is smirk at her as she watches the two of you walk away together, Grayson’s eyes set on the exit. You’re sure he didn’t even notice her on his mission to get you to the car.

[master-sass-blast]

Gifted.

*tosses escapism fic into the void* yeet.

Summary: You and Piotr go Christmas shopping and enjoy the holiday season. 

That's it. That's all that's happening. You're welcome.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader and mentioned Illyana Rasputin x Kitty Pryde.

Rating: G.

Word Count: 2k precisely.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: On the off-chance someone asks or is worried, yes, there are no mentions of masks or social distancing in this fic. That's because, in this fic, there is no COVID (ergo, no need for masks and such). I'm just not dealing with it in my fanfic as well. I won't. You can't make me.

Wear your fucking masks irl pls and thank u.

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“What a bright time, it's the right time/ To rock the night away/ Jingle bell time is a swell time/ To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh…”

You inhale deeply, then smile. The smells of fresh pretzels and pine –the latter is likely a fake scent that the stores use, but it’s still good—tantalize your nose. You tuck your hat and gloves in your purse, then look over at your husband. “Where all are we going?”

“Ah…” Piotr scans his list –which has notes on which stores to check and what order the stores are laid out in the mall, so as to streamline things. “Kitty said she did not want gifts because she does not celebrate Christmas, so we are just shopping for… my family and Russell. You said you already bought gifts for your dad and Wade?”

“Yup,” you say with a grin. Nate’s easy to shop for –ammo, clothes, and the odd book or two are usually all he want—and for Wade you just find the weirdest stuff listed on Amazon. “And I already sent my uncle a gift from us, so we don’t have to worry about him.”

Piotr nods, ‘hmm-ing’ as he makes a note on his list. “Okay.” He mumbles in Russian under his breath, then says, “Mama had no list this year; I think we start with her first since figuring out gift will take longer.”

“That’s fine. Where should we start?”

“I think bookstore is best bet. From there, we can stop by Hot Topic and candle shop for snezhinka, then Game Stop for Mikhail.”

“Sounds good.” You link your arm through his and smile up at him. “Lead the way, babe.”

 ***

 You glance between the piles of books on the table, then at your husband, who looks like he’s about to pull his hair out. “Do you think that, just maybe, you’re overthinking this? Just a little?”

“This is important,” Piotr insists as he skims through books from various areas of Barnes and Noble –cooking, history, fiction; he’d grabbed at least one book from nearly every section. “She has specific tastes. Cannot be just any old book.”

You purse your lips together. You don’t doubt that Alexandra has particular tastes in reading material –as a woman from her walk in life is bound to have—but you’re also certain that she wouldn’t want her son driving himself insane just to pick a present for her. You sit down next to Piotr and gently put your hand on his arm. “Sweetheart. She’s going to like whatever you get her.”

“Not necessarily. I have seen her toss many books aside with scoff and never pick them up again.”

“Okay, why?”

He shrugs. “Realism. She thinks some authors are ‘too indulgent’ or ‘too unrealistic.’”

“Alright, so maybe we leave out the crime and romance stuff,” you suggest, setting the few books he’d grabbed from those areas aside. “What does she like to do?”

Piotr goes quiet. His expression grows ashen as he contemplates the question. “I… don’t know.”

“Does she like to cook? Or draw? Or watch certain types of shows or movies?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats, more insistent. “She…” He sighs. “She never sits still. I don’t think any shows or movies interest her. When I was child, she always worked. On farm, taking care of animals, helping workers, making food, balancing accounts, translating letters and schoolwork… I never saw her rest. Do something for herself.”

You let out a soft snort. “Maybe a book on meditation.”

Piotr rolls his eyes, grinning. “Perhaps not.”

“Who does she like to be around, then?”

“Otets.” Piotr smiles when the answer comes easily. “She and my father” –he holds up two crossed fingers—“are like this. Aside from siblings and me, I think he is only person she is really close to.”

“Alright, maybe a cookbook, then. That’d give them something to do together.”

Piotr nods, then starts looking through the cookbooks he’d picked. “Question is, which one?”

“Well, we know she likes to stay busy and keep moving. Maybe something that’d challenge their skills? Something they haven’t tried?” You hold up a book boasting ‘rich and authentic Middle Eastern recipes.’ “This could be good. I think they’d have access to most of the ingredients, here in New York.”

He nods again, then sets the aforementioned book aside before checking over the other ones. “I think…” He lifts a hardcover thriller novel off the table. “She likes mysteries. This one has good reviews… maybe…”

You gently take the book from his hands and set it atop the Middle Eastern cookbook. “I think it’s a great choice.”

He smiles, then kisses your cheek. “Spasibo, myshka.”

 ***

 “Bozhe moi.”

You giggle as the two of you step over the threshold of the Yankee Candle store, only for Piotr to recoil and take a step back. “You good there, baby?”

He presses his fingers against the sides of his nose. “Is like… assault of smells.”

“I know.” You inhale deeply, them flash him an impish smile. “Isn’t it great?” 

Piotr groans, still rubbing his sinuses. “Do you mind—”

“I’ll find a candle for Illyana. Wanna meet up in Gamestop?”

“Spasibo, dorogoy.”

You blow him a kiss, then head into the candle store. You take a couple minutes to peruse the holiday display at the front of the store –and grab a couple votives for you and Piotr to enjoy—before heading towards the back of the store, where all the shelves of their regular candles are. You pause to smell your favorites –seriously, the McIntosh apple one never fails to make your mouth water—before taking a step back to survey your options. Alright, what to get for a mildly angsty, queer Russian goth?

It’s not as straightforward as it sounds (har har). Illyana’s an enigma, much like her mother. She’s quiet, keeps to herself, and doesn’t usually bother with convention.

Do I go for aesthetic? You pick up a pitch black candle labeled “Midnight Forest” and give it a cursory sniff. Ugh, smells like ass. No, thank you.

You also have to consider that whatever you get is likely going to be smelled by Kitty, too. As much as Illyana marches to the beat of her own drum, she’s surprisingly conscientious of her bubbly, energetic girlfriend.

Maybe something natural? Like the farm? You try a few options, wrinkling your nose after each sniff. God, what is it with the fresh scents and smelling heinous? You debate texting Piotr and dragging him back in here, if only so you’re certain you’ll get something Illyana would like—

And then it hits you over the head like a brick.

She’s gonna use these for meditation. You head down the rows of shelves, grab a jar labeled “Vanilla,” and give it a smell. Perfect. Not too strong, not too bland. You grab a lavender scented tumbler (for relaxation), then snag a pink one that smells like the perfume Kitty favors on a hunch it’ll be a hit.

By the time you pay for yours and Illyana’s candles, Piotr’s already waiting outside the Gamestop for you, bag in hand.

He eyes your bulging bags, eyebrow raising in trepidation. “Why…”

“Look, it’s your fault for abandoning me,” you say before he can point out your lack of self-control. “You know I’m weak for candles.”

Piotr snorts, then sighs. “Fair enough.” He nods and makes approving noises when you show him the picks you made for Illyana, then shows you what he grabbed for Mikhail.

“‘Mister Mosquito?’” You nearly double over laughing. “What even is this?”

“He wanted ‘weird video game,’” Piotr says, shrugging one shoulder. “I figure this should do.”

“He’s gonna love it,” you reassure your husband. “That’s weird as shit.” You start strolling along the main hall of the mall –and then your stomach rumbles. “Can we get pretzels?”

“Da, myshka,” Piotr chuckles, “we can get pretzels.”

 ***

 “There'll be parties for hosting/ marshmallows for toasting/ and caroling out in the snow/ there'll be scary ghost stories/ and tales of the glories of/ Christmases long, long ago…”

“It’s the most! Wonderful time! Of the year!” you sing along as you rip another chunk off your pretzel. You smile to yourself as you admire the glittering, twinkling decorations decking the food court. “How’s your pretzel?”

“Very tasty.” Piotr dips a bite of his pretzel in some mustard, pops it in his mouth, then swallows before wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I think we only have handful of stops left.”

“Couple of sweaters for your dad… weird socks and-or scarves for Mikhail…” You lean over, reading off the list in his hand (which is written in a mixture of Russian and English). You take another bite of pretzel, then tap on a portion of blended “Russi-nglish” that you can’t decipher. “What’s that?” you ask once your mouth is clear.

“Random gift options,” he translates. “For filling out presents, stockings, that sort of thing.” He touches the tip of his index finger to the page, moving down the list in order. “Chocolate, books, gift cards. Guaranteed hits, essentially.”

“Ooh, I could go for some chocolate.”

Piotr snorts. “You just had pretzel. And this is for others, myshka.”

“If it’s in the car with me, I make no promises.”

He laughs, then makes an extra note on his list. “Safety chocolate… for myshka. Got it.”

 ***

 “Here, dorogoy.”

“Oh, thank you!” You smile as Piotr takes some of the excess bags from your hands, shifting them so he can carry them (which, with his strength and the size of his hands, is no problem at all). You amble along next to him, admiring the various pop-up stands boasting games, calendars, and Christmas-themed treats. “Is there anywhere else we need to stop?”

“I believe we have everything.”

“And I’m guessing we need to head home so we can make dinner?”

“That would be best, da.” Piotr looks down at you, expression curious. “Why? There is somewhere you wish to stop?”

“Eh, not really,” you say with a shrug. “I just like coming to the mall during this time of year. The decorations, the music, the extra stands and seasonal gifts… It just makes me happy.”

“Aah, khorosho. I understand. We can come back later for date, if you like. Take time to walk around and admire stores.”

You grin up at him. “I’d like that.”

The two of you make to head out of the mall, back to the parking lot—

And then Piotr veers towards the right.

“Where are we going?” you ask, giggling as he leads you towards the bookstore. “I thought we already got everything we needed from here?”

He winks at you. “Trip is not complete yet. Not with hot chocolate, anyway.”

You grin and let him guide you over to the café in the bookstore.

Piotr gets you situated at a table near the expanse of windows at the front of the shop. He leaves your bags with you, then leads up at the counter to order your drinks.

You smile, lovestruck as you gaze over at him. How did I get so lucky? You lean back in your seat, taking a moment to admire the snow falling outside before checking out the decorations throughout the store…

Which is when you realize that there’s mistletoe hanging over your table.

You chuckle to yourself. Perfect.

“You are in good mood,” Piotr comments as he returns with two cups of hot chocolate.

“Of course, I am,” you admit with a broad grin. “I’ve got you. And tradition’s on our side.”

Piotr’s smile turns quizzical. He cocks his head to the side, staring at you for a moment, then looks up when you point towards the ceiling. “Ah,” he chuckles, “yes. That is good reason to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You hook your finger under the collar of his shirt and gently tug him towards you. “Come here, handsome.”

He lets out a soft, happy giggle and bends down to kiss you.

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 12 (Jason Todd x Reader)

the angst gets even worse from here, folks.

WORDS: 6303 WARNINGS: ALMOST SEX, VIOLENCE, MINOR CHARACTER DEATH, SO MUCH ANGST

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Then

“There’s no way I’m getting out of Jersey.”

“NYU? Come on, if you're taking a science course might as well go for the best.”

“New York’s just as shitty as Gotham. At least I grew up here.”

“If you’re staying in Gotham anyway, might as well take a course you’re actually interested in.”

You turned your head to the side, where Jason’s chin was resting on your shoulder. He shifted on the bed and let his legs on either sides of you fold up so you could hold the laptop better. “I’m not interested in any course, for your information.”

“You have to go to college, Y/N.”

You grunted, and you felt his arms around your waist tighten. “I can't believe you still hadn’t thought of this,” he said. “Some kids have their whole lives planned out all the way until they’re fifty.”

You hated it when he was so patronizing, but didn’t reject a kiss to your shoulder when he thought your attention was too far off into the laptop’s screen.

“Okay. All this is way too intimidating. What if I get the hang of it and decide I wanna proceed to medicine? I don’t want that.”

“You’re already hating the you five years from now. Chill out.”

“Ugh.” You scrolled through the list of universities nearby. “I’m not taking a sciences course.”

“Although I agree, Chemistry, Biology, and Physics are the highest marks in your record. It’d be much easier for you in the long run.”

“I don’t care. I hate it.” He snickered at your bitter annoyance when you shut the laptop close and set it aside on a chair near your bed. You then leaned against his chest and he immediately dug into your neck. “What about you?” you slightly pulled away. “What are you gonna take?”

Jason let out a long breathe out from his nostrils into the back of your hair. Tightly, you held his arms that were around you and craned your head to the side so you could look at him.

“What would you say if I took English Literature?”

“I think that’s amazing.” You tickled his cheek with your gentle finger. “Gotham U?”

“Yeah. It’s the only course I can think of that doesn’t exhaust me just thinking about it.”

You swung your thighs over to rest on his leg, and he started fiddling with the hem of your jeans, tracing your ankle. “You’ll do great.”

He smiled and kissed the corner of your mouth before pulling your head to rest on his cheek. “You know you’ll have to choose a course soon.”

“I know.” You looked down.

You weren’t one to look forward to college much. And it wasn’t because you had no plans at all. You just had no idea if you were to go out of the city, find a job somewhere that didn’t sound too repulsive or too much of a chore or go to college perhaps, but that felt way too much of a commitment to a future you had no idea about. What were you supposed to do?

If your grades had a say in it, science was the safest choice. Maybe even literature. But it mostly spiked all because of Jason’s help. What if you’d fail just as it was too late to turn back? You couldn’t afford for that to happen. And if anything, the only major drive was choosing a place where Jason wasn’t so far away.

Up until now, it seemed too early to make that kind of decision.

“What about music?”

You looked at him. “Funny.”

“I’m serious.”

“My dad will kill me.”

“Since when do you listen to your dad?”

Never. Never in your whole life did you listen to whatever he had to say. “Point taken.”

“You’re good at it. You’re amazing at writing songs. And your voice definitely guarantees you a spot.”

“I don’t know,” you settled deeper into his chest. “I never really thought of that.”

“Does the thought of spending the next few years of voice lessons repulse you that much?”

“You know for a fact that it won't just be voice lessons,” you scoffed.

“But does it though?”

You sighed and let your nose touch his jaw to give you that slight little push you always needed when you tried to figure shit out. “I guess not.”

“Well, you should give it a thought. Gotham College of the Arts looks promising.”

Looking up at him, you felt his arms shift, and you went along with him so you were now straddling his lap. He kissed you, gently at first before you felt his teeth nip at your tongue. “Also, it’s fifteen minutes away from Gotham U. Won't have to go so far just to see you.” He brushed a strand of your hair away from your cheeks.

Well, if he put it that way, maybe you will give this a shot.

You kissed him to relieve yourself of any more tiring contemplation about a future you regret never having planned out by the time you got out of middle school. You lightly swayed, letting him lean against the headboard. Soft. Subtle. Elusive. His lips were delicate, and so were his snaking hands that were crawling its way up your thighs. You giggled when he thumbed that sweet little spot in your groin he found out about months after you started dating.

You breathed harder, heavier, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck. He was leaning further into you to deepen his kisses. He was so warm… and when your hand wandered down his chest, Jason’s went under your shirt, making you jolt at his rough fingers tracing the sides of your waist. “You're so hot…” he whispered.

You smiled and dug into his lips again. Something was poking into your clothed cunt, and you accidentally bit into his lips too hard when he grinded against you. Jason hissed. “Ow!”

“Sorry!” you placed gentle kisses onto his lip, but he didn’t look too bothered. In fact, you felt him even harder beneath you.

His lips met your neck, and you could feel him wanting, desperate even, though there was that slightest bit of hesitation he tried hard not to show off. Probably afraid to mess up. But you welcomed him, moaning when he dug his teeth into your skin.

“Fuck…” Jason gripped on your hair, the back of your head, then with your heaving chest, he started biting into your collarbone, unsure of where to make you moan even louder. You found yourself starting for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up so you could touch the ripples of his muscles.

You were wet. You could feel it. You were biting your lip while you instinctively tried to push your legs together, but he was between them, and you couldn’t do much but lay there and take it all. Jason stopped, breathing just as heavily as you. And with your hands so gently holding his face, he looked straight into your eyes as he pulled on the back of his shirt and took it off.

He let you roam your hands around. Your warm, aching palms hovering over his lean muscles while you shamelessly bit your lip. He touched your forehead with his, feeling the way you were touching him. All over him. You brushed your palms against his pecs and jumped when he grinded up to you.

“Sorry…” he gulped. You shushed him instead and kissed him until he relaxed. Then you grinded against him, hard enough to make him audibly gasp. He let you roll your hips again, this time making you both moan into each other’s mouths.

Jason gave you a pleading look, asking if all this was okay. But it was without a word, and like him, you pulled back. Raising your shirt up and off your arms, your skin flushed the moment you saw him take his look all over you. Your bra-cladded breasts, your waist, your bare shoulders and how your hair laid so delicately against your skin. Jason looked up at you again, and you nodded at him.

You moaned at the first contact of his lips against your chest. Your tits, almost peeking out of your bra, were yearning for his tongue the more he placed kisses all over you. Then he pushed his weight against you, slowly flipping you over to let you lie down on the bed. You stared at him, kissed him hard, then moaned when he started going after your chest again.

His hands tried not to be so hard on your waist, but you could feel him wanting to dig into your skin, dig his nails into your flush. You felt his thighs part your legs and he situated himself comfortably on top of you. Then he grinded, again and again. Your hand went around his back and pulled him closer towards you.

Then he suddenly pulled away and hissed. You stopped, immediately backing off. Your heart was about to blow up and you instantly went to hold his head. “What’s wrong?”

“I-I’m-“ Jason flinched when he moved his back.

You quickly moved over to the other side of the bed, but Jason turned away which made him hiss even more.

“Jay, just let me look.”

“No-“

“What is going on?” you stammered, and when you stood up on the floor, pulling his hand away from covering his back, he stopped struggling.

You hadn’t seen it. Until now. This was recent. The largest bruise you’ve ever seen, spanning from his left shoulder all the way down to his lower back in several smaller circles. It was just by his shoulder blades where it was horribly blued and purpled, right where you were trailing your hands at just now. You placed your hand on it, but Jason inched away.

“What. Happened.”

“Nothing.”

He was looking away from you. Looking at the ground.

“Jason, you can't expect me to turn a blind eye on this again. What the hell is going on with you?” you insisted. You placed a hand on his shoulder, but he pushed it away.

He took his shirt back and slid his arms through the holes. “Workout.”

“Workout?!” you guffawed. “How stupid am I to you?”

He didn’t answer and moved over to lean against the headboard. “I hit my back against a pole. It’s no big deal.”

“No. Definitely not. That-“ you gestured to his back. “-was left by a fucking foot. Plenty of them!”

He crossed his arms and tried everything he could not to look at your face. You pulled on his arm, and just like last time, he pushed you away.

“I’m calling the police.”

“No.” He held your wrists, and with his strength you could never overpower, held it tight and took your phone away from you. “You’re not doing that.”

“Where did you get those?” You growled, frustratingly throwing his hands back towards him. “Tell me right fucking now.”

“I just got into another fight. What’s the big deal?”

You pulled on your hair. “You come home with different bruises every fucking week! Unless you're in some kind of fight club, I hardly believe you're that much of a thug-“

“Maybe I am-“

“You are insane!”

“So what?! I get into fights. All guys do.”

“No. No they fucking don’t,” you faked a laugh and covered your face with your palm.

“Did you get these from home?” your voice softened. “Tell me the truth. Please Jay. Are you being abused?”

“NO!”

“THEN WHAT IS IT!?”

“I TOLD YOU I GOT INTO A FIGHT!”

“THEN FOR FUCK’S SAKE, STOP PICKING FIGHTS-“

You were interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. You turned away, leaning against your desk and closing your eyes.

“Bruce?” he said into his phone. You heard deep murmuring, though you didn’t try so hard to listen in.

Not long after, Jason hung up. He stood up from your bed and picked up his jacket.

“I’m sorry. Bruce wants me -“

“You’re fucking kidding me,” you scoffed. “Does Bruce know? About that?”

Jason finally turned to you, standing on opposite sides of the bed. “He does. And we have a butler with medical training at home, so stop it.”

“OH,” you really wanted to laugh right now. “So now you think I’m being obnoxious!?”

“WHO SAID-“ he grunted, pulling on his own hair. “I never said that.”

“Yes you did!”

“I have to leave.”

You walked over to the door he’d just opened and slammed it shut with your palm. “We are not done here.”

“We are.”

You wanted to punch him. “What the fuck are you hiding from me, Jason?”

“Nothing.”

“You and I both know it’s not just the bruises. It takes you an hour tops to finish all our homework so where the fuck do you go to all night?”

He looked away from you, and you saw him purse his lips, steadying his breath.

“Fucking look at me-“

“I’m at home. Asleep. That’s it.”

“Or you're out with your friends? Having the kind of company you tell them not to squeal about to your girlfriend?”

“Okay. You’re insane. What makes you think I could-“

“Are you denying it?”

“Of course, I’m fucking denying it. That’s not what’s going on.”

“So there is something going on!?” you screamed. “If I find out you're hiding something, I swear to god-“

“You’ll what? Murder me in my sleep? Unless you forgot, I’m still not fucking afraid of you.”

“MAYBE YOU SHOULD BE!”

“MAYBE I WON'T.”

“FINE!”

“FINE!!”

You were shaking. Your hand specifically. And there was a painful sprout coming all the way from your chest to your neck. It was like something was biting into your organs from the inside, making your throat burn too much for you to say anything more.

His expression softened when he saw you fighting back tears.  

“I have to go.” He slowly pulled you to the side, storming out of the door before you could stop him. You made sure Jason heard you throw the nearest breakable object to your side, hitting the walls of your room. He stepped out of your apartment, and by then, you were on the ground, wearing nothing but your fucking bra in a crying mess.

-----

Jason regretted everything the moment he stepped out the door.

He was a huge fucking moron to tell you off like that when you were just genuinely worried for him. You, someone who’s shown him a kind of love he’s never had with anyone else in his entire life. Maybe that was why he was shit at handling it all.  

You just had another fight a week ago. He was terrible at this. No matter how much he loved you, there was no getting out of his demons’ hold.

He wanted to turn back, possibly get down on his knees and apologize immensely for everything he’d said. But another call from Bruce and not long after, the Batmobile was speeding through the streets. He cursed and ran all the way to his bike, speeding behind the car and slipping into an alley so he could quickly change.

He really fucking hated himself.

By then it was almost sundown, and when they reached Joker’s massively scaled robbery in a mall at Otisburg, they were so close to being too late. Batman crashed his car into the mall’s entrance and he jumped out, disarming five men at just a swipe of his arm.

Robin didn’t take too long to arrive. His bike stormed in from the second floor window, flying in so incomprehensibly quick that the goons couldn’t move out in time when his bike landed right on their bodies. And when it did, Robin pressed a button on his wrist, and the bike’s tires accelerated to it burned their flesh.

Fuck this world. Fuck everything in it. Everything deserved to be beaten down to the ground.

He couldn’t care less when he’d hear Batman’s scolds even from all the way across the mall’s lobby. Robin narrowly missed the bullets, snatching their guns right from their arms along with a kick right up against their chests. And with his weight placed directly on their ribs, Robin smashed their heads in with the butt of their guns. Repeatedly. They’d probably die from it. Who cares.

He was so much stronger when he wasn’t thinking too much about it.

Grappling up to the higher floors, he was instantly cornered by ten of Joker’s men. All with their stupid fucking clown masks and guns in their hands. He flipped over, rolled around to dodge the bullets. He threw batarangs one after the other and flung the heel of his boot right at any face he could reach. He blew up a store. He blocked the bullets with his cape and moved at the split second they had to reload. He smashed a head right into a concrete pillar so hard that it cracked upon its immense impact.

It had grown dark. Twenty. Maybe thirty men down on the ground. So far, his heat sensors detected they were still alive.

An elbow behind him, he grabbed a man’s arm, flung it over his back and slammed his body against the ground even when he was significantly larger than him. He placed his boot against his chest. Harder. Longer. And when he was struggling to get out, spitting at Robin’s face, he merely wiped it away before he crouched over to repeatedly hit the side of his face with his balled-up fist.

“Robin!”

He ignored that and kept going. Over and over until he felt his victim’s jaw shatter and he was lying close to lifelessness on the ground. He stopped, grabbed onto his collar and threw him onto the floor.

He barely noticed the aches on his back and how it was definitely going to take a toll on him eventually.

Darkness. Pure darkness. The demons were taking over. Just as they often did. And when they do, there was no stopping them. Not even him.

Another goon tried to shoot him, but he just walked straight at him, blocking everything with his cape, and took the gun by the muzzle with a single arm. The clown backed off, and with a single swipe, Robin smashed the gun right into his head.

The gun broke in half, and he threw it to the ground.

There was nothing in his mind at all. Not a storm. Not a single thought. Not a single word that told him to stop or think of something cleverer to put them down. There was nothing. His face blank, emotionless, Robin turned to a voice crying for help.

He walked over to the source, coming from a broken window. At four stories high, he saw one of Joker’s men hold onto the window pane for dear life.

He looked just as villainous as the rest of them. “Help me!” he cried out to Robin.

How many lives has he taken? How many families left broken? How many has he hurt?

Working for Joker, the answer to that would be far from pretty.

He was slipping, barely on his fingertips. A fall like that was surely going to kill him. But how many lives would be saved if it were?

His foot was just an inch away from his fingers. Just a step. A single step. And he’d fall.

But he stepped back, looking at the man straight in the eye.

And without a single flinch from him, the man slipped off the window pane by his slippery palms and dropped to his death.

When he got to the ground floor, now with GCPD officers taking over the place, he was immediately grabbed by the shoulder and hauled into the batmobile.

“My fucking bike-“

“Leave it,” Batman growled.

He got into the car and drove out before anything else were to be said.

The drive was silent. For the most part. And when they got to the cave, Jason threw his domino mask to the ground.

“Do that again, and you lose the suit.” Bruce stammered.

“Boo fucking hoo.”

“At least fifteen of them were a hit away from dropping dead. Care to explain that?”

“Isn’t that what we do? Incapacitate them but not actually take their lives to satisfy your fucking morals?”

“Don’t start with me, Jason.”

Jason turned to him on his tip toes to try standing him off. “You have no idea how long I’ve fucking wanted to do that!”

“Then you're admitting to not being capable of handling this responsibility. THIS is a responsibility, Jason.”

“THEY WORK FOR JOKER. DO YOU KNOW HOW VILE AND DISGUSTING A PERSON HAS TO BE TO WORK FOR HIM? THEY’RE ALL SERIAL KILLERS. RAPISTS. HOW ARE THEY STILL OUR FUCKING RESPONSIBILTY?!”

“You don’t get to kill. None of us do.”

Jason stomped his heavy boots onto the ground and started for the door. “You’re a madman, Bruce.”

“One dead. Fell from the fourth-floor window. You were there when it happened.”

He was so sure all the pent-up lava was going to burst out of him anytime soon and destroy everything in its path. He stopped walking, kept his eyes on the cold metal ground.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Did you kill him?” Bruce said. “I’m only going to ask you once.”

Jason turned around.

“No.”

The man slipped on his own, and Jason just happened to be there watching him fall. So no, he didn’t kill him. He just willingly let him die. There’s a difference, right?

He didn’t even care if there was.

“Jason-“

“Good night, Bruce.”

He slipped out of his suit and stormed into his room.

He pulled out his phone.

Jason: “Babe, you okay?”

Five hours later, you still hadn’t replied.

His desk chair had been broken in half by his bare hands by the time morning came.

-----

If your chicken nuggets were still alive, you’d have killed the bird ten times over just by the tip of your fork.

You didn’t even eat. Your hand practically had a mind of its own, impaling your food until it was in mushed up bits. You were silent. Far too silent. Your eyes were locked onto your food, but if you were to be asked, you’d have no idea what was going on. And you felt empty, your body hallowed out to the point where you were nothing but a set of skin, flesh, and bone with no sign of a soul left within you.

You hit the bottom of your tray hard enough to make a dent.

You heard Jason from across you sigh. “You gotta eat-“

Smashing the tip of your fork into the largest piece of nugget left intact, you gritted your teeth, stared at the ground with those deathly eyes and stuffed it into your mouth. You chewed so harshly at your food that you might have tasted your own blood.

Jason shook his head, taking his can of soda and emptied it out before he’d say anything more. And when he’d finished, you heard the can get crushed by his bare hands.

A hard swallow down his thick neck and a grunt out in frustration, and it only made your head boil even hotter.

You looked up at him, momentarily catching his eye, and without breaking your deathlike eye contact, you pierced your fork into your tray, hitting the bottom. Jason cocked his jaw to the side, giving you the same frown, but he said nothing and leaned over to rest his elbows on the table.

Again. And again. Your fork made so much dents in your tray that it’d barely be of any more use. This time, you were eating the food you’d mutilated.

Jason’s teeth were biting into his lip so much that at the nth time you smashed your tray, he felt a sharp sting in the back of his gums and a taste of bitter iron filling his tongue.

“Stop that.”

You smashed your fork again, flaring your nostrils at him and tensing all your muscles that you were just a second away from pouncing at him. Thankfully, you didn’t. You didn’t listen to him, either. You pierced your food with your fork and clenched your jaw the whole time you chewed.

He gave up and finished his own food, sliding his tray aside with a strong, frustrated push of his arm.

When your tray was empty, filled with dents, you threw your fork right on top of it and immediately stood up, grabbed your cup of iced coffee while sparing him a lasting glare before you turned away to your next class.

Jason sat there, alone, his mouth completely dry and his fists wanting to hit the next thing that comes his way.

Calm. Reserved. Not yet screaming at anyone on the way to your classroom. Although people instantly stood aside the moment they saw you walk down the hall with an explosive look on your face, you didn’t blow up just yet.

You reached your room, and just about you entered the doorway, Lana bumped right into you.

“Watch it-“

She looked up, saw it was you, and instantly bit her mouth. To make matters worse, your iced coffee slightly spilled on your shirt.

Your fists were clenched. Furthermore, and you’d blow. Your breaths were unsteady, your teeth baring. The look on your eye was enough to give fucking Medusa a run for her money. You gritted your teeth and stood silent, watching Lana start to say something, anything.

But she craned her head down and stood aside to let you walk in. And with your eyes keeping on her, you took your time making your way inside, walking so slowly that everyone kept silent at the sight of you.

You took a seat. And Lana took one four seats away from you.

Jerry the science teacher walked in, bed head still on probably from being asleep at the library, and placed all his stuff on the desk.

“Afternoon, everyone…”

You didn’t listen to a word he said. Your eyes were on the board, but you couldn’t recall a thing that was on it. You were relaxed on your chair, back arched down and your arms crossed.

Even at your worst, the world managed to go on like you weren’t in some kind of crisis at all. The sun continued to show up that morning as if it were mocking you that other people probably had one of their best days right now and you were stuck sulking without a choice. Of course, you technically did. Jason texted you once last night. Twice this morning. He sat with you at lunch despite you on the brink of choking him to death. You haven’t said anything to him so far. But you could tell he was trying. Terrible tries, to be honest. But it was there.

“Ms. Y/N.”

You didn’t move your head, or anything else, when you looked at Jerry.

“No drinks allowed in class. Throw that out the trash.”

Everyone was staring at you.

“I’m not done with it,” you grumbled.

“I don’t care. Pour it out and throw it away.”

The cup was about to explode in your hand just like that soda can did with Jason. You made sure they all heard you stomp on the ground when you stood up. And with such force you pushed the chair behind you.

Silence.

You turned over to Lana.

She wasn’t smiling, but she must have loved seeing you being called out like this. You just fucking knew it.

She was watching you like all the other kids. But the longer you stared, eyes narrowed at her, you notice her breathe hard and turn her attention away to the blank wall in front of her.

Nothing. You felt nothing. You wanted to feel something. Anything to take you out of this sad, sulking state.

“Fine,” you said.

And without even the slightest speck of shame, you slowly walked over to Lana, took out the cover of your ice coffee, stopped right in front of her-

“Y/N-“

You poured the cup right onto her head.

You heard gasps, oohs, and hisses. But even Jerry was speechless. Lana horrifyingly shrieked, eyes closed and jaw on the floor. Your face was blank, hips cocked to the side like you were casually doing it in some sink or a trash bin. And it took a long while. Longer than you should. The coffee spilled so slowly into her scalp that you wanted her to completely realize what was going on far before you were going to finish.

Her hair and face were drenched by the time you turned the cup over until it was completely upside down. All the ice fell to her head, and she gasped.

Silence again. And the expression you had on your face never faltered. Jaw to the side, arms crossed, you sighed with a high-pitched voice mimicking Lana’s.

You threw the cup in the trash, giving everyone slow glances as you made your way back into your seat. No one dared to speak up. No one moved from their desk. You raised your eyebrow at all of them, then you turned over to look at Jerry.

“Done.”

You sat down, and Lana screamed out of the classroom. Normally, you’d be smiling your face off by now.

But just like the rest of the day, that persistent frown never left. You didn’t feel any better. Nothing possibly could make you feel better.

You were lucky it was Jerry that was in charge. If it had been any other teacher who had just the slightest bit of energy left in them, they’d have taken you to the Vice Principal’s office. But today, you got off scot-free.

Looking out the window, ignoring all else that was going on, you wondered how Jason was handling all this.

-----

Now

You were barely ten minutes into your appointment, and already, you were getting to the ugly parts you struggled so hard to repeat. The therapist did a good job at convincing you there was no shame to it, though. You, on the other hand, were going to have to try much harder at convincing yourself.

“Did all this start with just the bruises?” she asked you.

There was a twist in your chest, something so violently twisting all your organs, your heart just being one of them, and it was gripping onto your rib cage, shaking them so vigorously you felt like you were about to fall out.

“No… I think… Well, it was the point where things actually felt like they started to change. Even though it didn’t feel that way at first.”

“How did it feel at first?”

You shrugged. “Like just an ordinary fight. Something all couples go through.”

The therapist took note of that. The pain just kept worsening the more you talked. Wasn’t she supposed to talk just as much? Give you advice? Let you have a different perspective of things?

Apparently not. She continued to ask. “Was it?”

You didn’t exactly have a solid answer. It was. And it wasn’t. You’ll just have to keep going.

“We dealt with it horribly. By ourselves. I did some cruel shit to lash it out. Things I’m no longer proud of. And he did, too.”

“Go on,” she said. And you tried to hold back a roll in your eyes.

“But if there was one thing I noticed, we never lashed out much on each other. Sure, we’d bicker and fight and scream every once in a while. But I never once thought of hurting him just for the sake of causing hurt.”

“But you hurt other people in the process…”

You nodded. “I said I’m not proud of it.”

“I’m seeing some progress in you. I see you regret the way you handled that fight. And you wish you could have done things differently.”

Like a sword riding right down your stomach. You gulped. “Yeah…”

“How would you have done it? Knowing what you do now?”

She had to be kidding. You basically had your answer memorized over the course of three years mourning and blaming yourself for everything that had happened.

“I wish I called him that night instead of ignoring his texts. I wish I gave him the chance to apologize. Maybe even apologize myself. I wish…” you breathed. “I wish I just accepted the truth he was telling me…”

“Frankly, he was in the wrong as well.”

“I don’t care if he was anymore…” you caught your breath, stopping your voice from cracking.

The therapist gave you a bit of time to collect yourself. You were gripping onto the couch. Perhaps a bit harder than you should.

“The fights… I wish we realized none of them was ever going to be worth it. Not when it means I was going to lose him…”

-----

Then

Well, at least you let him take you home.

And after his argument with Bruce, he didn’t care if he was going to get another scolding when he gets home. He’d stolen one of his cars, and he was driving it right now with you at the passenger seat. You had your knees pointed out the car door facing away from him. And each time he glances at you, he’d see your face in the reflection.

You were staring at the glass, face blank. You hadn’t talked all day. Barely a word out of you. He desperately wanted to say something. Anything. But he’d end up realizing his words were just going to make things so much worse.

And he should have thought more about bringing the car with him. There was traffic. Even when you weren’t so far from your house. It only made everything so much more silent and eerie than it already was.

He wasn’t going to turn on the radio or plug his phone in for some music. The silence was going to be better. And he was afraid he’ll miss a whisper out of you if you were too hesitant to say anything loud enough for him to actually hear.

Your fights never went on this long. It usually just ended a few hours after it happens and you’d have kissed and made up before the night comes to an end. And they were always light, even when it worried him, it never actually came to the point where visions of him walking away forever suddenly surged up his mind. It wasn’t much different from the bickering you always had the first time you met. When you hadn’t gotten along.

He didn’t realize he was smiling, thinking back at the times when you’d punch him for letting a book fall to your head, when he’d purposefully hit your back with the cart and you ended up chasing him down the aisle. When you used to scream at each other just to argue over where a book was supposed to be placed.

Jason licked his lips and smiled at those memories.

Then he turned to you. You were his now. Even when at times, it didn’t feel much like it. You were still his. But when he glanced at you, seeing you look so miserable looking out the window, it hit him like a bat to the face.

He reached your apartment, parked right beside the curb and unlocked the door.

You looked at him, no longer in frustration, but with sorrow, weariness. You were tired and he was, too.

“Thanks.”

That was the only thing you said to him all day. And right after that, you walked out the door, closing it behind you without slamming it like you’d expectedly do.

And even when he knew it was just for the day, that’s when the visions came up. You walking away. Possibly forever. Him losing you to his stubbornness. Even when it was just from the car, it all felt like you were walking away from his life entirely.

So he got out of the car and raced to you before you stepped into the door. “Wait-”

You stopped, turning around.

You tried to make your face as expressionless as you possibly could, but even you failed at that. You looked exhausted, not at all like you were at lunch. And he walked towards you. Surprisingly, you walked down the steps towards him as well.

His eyes on yours, shaking and unstable, he slowly stepped in front of you and pulled you to his chest as numbingly tight as he could. You were tense, unmoving, and he could feel you hesitate.

But unknown to him, a tear had fallen down the side of your cheek. You eventually fell into him and instantly you wrapped your arms around his waist, stuffing your face into his shoulder like he was to your neck.

You didn’t know how long you stayed in his arms. But even with the wind so strong, nothing blew you apart.

It wasn’t the same at all. The quarrelling, the disputes, it had evolved into something neither of you anticipated, though when it actually happened, it wasn’t much of a surprise. The cuts it made onto your flesh were so much deeper, when at first it barely made any cuts at all. You thought that was how it was supposed to be, something that brought you together. Your petty fights have always been something to look back to and smile at. Something cute.

But now…

What happens now?

What happens when those same exact fights progress into something you’d no longer easily forget?

What happens when the pettiness causes a wound not so quickly healed?

What happens when the back and forth, the disagreements, the bickering…

What happened when they stop being cute?

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

AT LEAST KEEP ME ALIVE UNTIL THE FINALE

Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x

[bangtansfavwriter]

🌷jimin having a crush on you🌷

(with a hint of smut & angst, still v fluffy 😌)

- a complete flirt or a complete shy bean, there's no in-between

- introduces you to his friends, his family, the staff, the ahjussi at the convenience store....

-will touch you a lot, so expect koala hugs on any given occasion

-you will stare at his lips a lot, unconsciously, which you'll notice when jimin looks like ar u like this : 👀🤭

-very very caring, the type to sprint across the city to be with you when something's wrong with you

- you guys would talk in person, on the phone, over text... actually a clingy one and he doesn't even hide it

-showers you with affection

- "you're so lovely, lovely, lovelyyy~"

- ur entire support system and personal hype man

- you know that will smith meme with his wife? that's jimin with you basically

- you two are completely emo when he has to leave for tour, but thank god there's skype

-gets emo again when you have to hang up

("good night, good night! parting is such a sweet sorrow." - "jimin, did you... did you just quote shakespeare on me?? minie, we're gonna talk tomorrow, don't be sad!"- "😔😔😔😔😔😔😔" - "nooo minie😭😭😭😭😭" - "noooooo im happy, look ☺️☺️☺️☺️" - "ok good 💞" - "........(😔)"- PARK JIMIN" - "👼🏻")

- stalks all your social media when he's on tour but will never tell you, accidentally like your pic from like 42 weeks ago and screamed so loud hobi fell out of his bed

-you sent him a screenshot of the notification you got with a single "?" and jimin welcomed the sweet release of death (he left you on read and prayed you would forget about it)

-stops by at your place when he's back in the country and gives you a hug so tight it lowkey feels like u guys made out, FLIRTS and you're like "what are we?" and he's "what do you mean? :))) we're friends ofc :))))))" [libras.]

-also, he often invites you to dance practices and is extra flamboyant meanwhile

- "y/n, have you seen the flip? it was good right?" ( boy's got a big fat praise kink tbh)

"you looked so cool, minie ~'

*gets shy, hides his face, jumps through the room*

(& you'd ask yourself if this the same guy who stripped at MAMA)

- his duality is no joke, even in your guys' relationship it would be confusing as hell sometimes, yet exciting because he shows you different sides : childlike and carefree / serious and seductive

- lots of cuddles and giggles together

- goes above and beyond to make you happy and ready to cut a bitch when you're upset

- could charm your pants off, hypothetically speaking, but he's also shyyy mostly bc he's scared you might not like him the same way

-at the dorms he would get into this mood where he would do dramatic monologues about his feelings which would put shakespeare to shame tbh

-they almost always end up with him imagining that you might go for someone else

-one day the boys would encourage him to go for it and he'd muster up the courage and be like "fuck yeah im gonna confess" and then loses courage when yoongi said "do it before someone else does it" and everyone would be screaming bc they just got jimin to shut up about you and were about to end the daily tortured hero vibe jimin had lately by tricking him into confessing (& jimin spent days giving yoongi a look that straight up said "et tu, brute?")

-jimin spent the days after that contemplating if you would actually date him or if you would go for someone else

-he'd be all pouty and would also be touchier than usual, bc he would this physical contact as some sort of reassurance, in a way

-you couldn't quite understand what was going on with him but you reciprocated in every scenario and he was very pleased with that

-when you guys would chill on a sofa and watch tv, he'd lay down and rest his head on your lap and wouldn't say anything and continue watching TV, but he'd still wait for your reaction and sigh happily when you started playing with his hair

-he'd do these little tests to gauge your reactions and to see how you act towards him

-he'd ask a lot about how you feel about relationships and respect and all that, he'd also test you... physically. and by that I mean the sensual hugs, light touches on your thigh and and the looks you'd share meanwhile... the first time you two had dinner with the guys in a restaurant with dim lights. when you felt his hand on your thigh, you looked at him with a raised brow and this lil shit deadass SMIRKED at you but you knew that 2 can play this game and smirked back and moved his hand slightly up and jimin's soul almost left his body. "what are we, y/n?" he whispered to you. "you tell me", you whispered back, with a cunning smile on your lips. you excused yourself and got up from the table and jimin jerked that moment, as you put your hand on his thigh when you lifted yourself up. (jk to nj: i don't know what is going on there but I bet it's disgusting, nj: no, don't be like that, sj: no, he's right)

-jimin and you (and everyone else, for that matter) entered a weird stage where you legit didn't know wtf was happening between you

-everything moved fast and yet you didnt know if you guys were going somewhere with this but jimin sure acted like your boyfriend yet didn't go beyond flirting

-and this was getting tiresome for you, but you were still hoping tbh, but you thought that maybe... maybe you were just a welcome distraction for him in all his hectic schedule. but deep down you knew this was your insecurities speaking, but sometimes it got the better of you.

-and things took an ugly turn when jimin tested you again, but in the most stupid way you could ever "test" someone... you've guessed it..... through jealousy.

- that was bc jimin himself got jealous when you were hanging out with yoongi, mostly bc he also remembered what yoongi once said about someone snatching you away from him

-and jimin absolutely hated this situation.... he knew this was irrational and that you could hang out with whomever you wanted & yoongi's obviously like a brother to him..... but jealousy is a very ugly feeling that makes you feel ugly things

-and jimin didn't want neither yoongi nor you to see this side of him so he didn't say anything. he didn't speak to neither of you. was it a good solution? hell no & he knew that. but he had to deal with his temper somehow... he cut you short whenever you tried to talk to him, saying he's busy and such, but you knew he was lying to you for some reason but you still were patient and did your best not to drag him to hell and back for lying to and ignoring you, as he stopped texting you as well. he didnt speak more than necessary with yoongi who only kept his mouth shut bc they was another matter involved. jimin had the idea for this "last test" for you when a new staff member got flirty with him, during a bighit party. you were there, too, in the same room, to be precise and jimin knew this and saw a chance coming, as you were talking to yoongi again who glared back at jimin who intensely kept staring at you two. so this new + drunk staff member came along and started talking with him.... and giggling so obnoxiously that yoongi and you rolled with your eyes at the same time and started laughing when you realized it. jimin wasn't listening to anything in the first place but when he saw you two laughing, he had a snap decision, turned to the staff member and coyly smiled and started flirting. you watched the whole play & jimin knew it, so he added some light touches and nudges here and there and you could feel getting more upset with every minute of this shit-show you were witnessing. yoongi put his hand on your arm and turned you away from jimin and his bimbo and face him instead. you could feel your blood rush to your head which was also apparent to yoongi who consoled you, as he knew of your feelings. jimin mistook the whole situation once again and went for the worst move.

you saw yoongi's glare and turned around only to see jimin holding his little plaything by the waist and them swaying around together. the other members noticed too and namjoon took the lead and quickly moved jimin away from dispatch's newest headline in the making. you turned to yoongi again and said "i'm going home, yoongi, thank you", with a sad smile on your face, and left before he could answer. yoongi quickly rushed out after you, knowing damn well that you'd go home and cry. he managed to catch up and pulled you into a hug, away from all the noise. "that boy is an idiot, but he's so in love with you, trust me on that. he's just being stupid right now", he said patted your back and lowkey contemplating dissing jimin in agust d 2, when he heard the muffled sniffs coming from you. "Ohhh, yoongi-hyung, y/n, getting cozy, aren't we?" you heard jimin saying behind you. yoongi was about to yell at him, but you were quicker to turn around and BLASTED him, bc how tf does he dare to say something like this after what he just pulled inside and how tf can he be so rude to yoongi and most importantly why tf would you listen to him after blatantly ignored you over the past weeks??? jimin went silent after your rant and let his head sink. "i'm sorry..." he said, "i'm sorry to both of you. i don't know how to explain it... but i felt angry when I saw you two so close. i know it's stupid and I know that you guys can be friends, obviously... it's so irrational and I don't even know why i did that earlier. i guess I wanted you to feel what I feel when I see you close with another man, y/n...". this voice got hoarse the more spoke and you knew that he too was about to cry. you knew he was regretful. it didn't justify that he was a dick to you, but you could see where he was coming from and understood that this feeling can make you do irrational things. "jealousy," yoongi said with a stern voice "is a really ugly trait, jimin. you should have known neither of us would ever go behind your back. for your information, y/n confided in me. your best friend is in love with you and you, dumbass, are too blind to see it. -(jimin's head shot up)- I'm gonna leave you two to it now, but jimin, I assure you I will kick your ass if you hurt y/n one more time." and he left. jimin looked at you apologetically, then hid his face behind his hands and took a deep sigh. "I really am a dumbass, huh..." - "yeah, you are" you replied with slight smile on your face and you took some steps towards him, he looked up at you. "y/n, I might be dumb and selfish, but I really hope that you can forgive me... one day. I was jealous of you two and I got insecure. I shouldn't have done what I've done and I can only apologise.... i'm really sorry about everything." (he let his head sink)

you were now standing right in front of him. "jimin, look at me." (he did.) "you really are a dumbass" (he got pouty) - "I thought we had already established that, y/n" - "getting smart with me, minie?" you asked and laughed when he looked at you with with huge eyes and a beaming face after he heard his pet name. he shook his head "I'm the dumbass, remember ?". You two laughed and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek while he buried his head in your neck.

"be my dumbass, minie."

💕

epilogue:

yoongi: "so how did you solve it again?"

you: "i called him dumb like 3 times and now we're dating"

yoongi: "nice"

jimin: "..."

[reabrook332]

That Night

Namjoon x reader smut Dis: reader is feeling some sort of way towards Joon after the ‘incendent’ A/N: I’m trying here

It’s too late for this. I want to be home right now in my bed watching my favorite show but right now, I’ve been stuck here looking at his back for the last 4 hours.  He’s been hunched over his desk writing lyrics all day. The pressure with the new album has been getting to him I can tell but everytime I ask him how he’s feeling he just tells me some weird philosophical shit and goes back to writing. So far the most interaction we’ve had has been when he asked me to go get coffee for him. My phone beeps. I take it out of my pocket to see that it was Hobi asking me to bring him some food to the dance studio for him. I giggle slightly at his request for Sprite and a Cheese-burger. Slipping on my shoes I stand up to head to the door “ Hey, i’m going to take Hoseok some food real quick i’ll be back.” He doesn’t say anything, just nods and I make my journey to the break room and grab the goods and make my way to the dance studio. While walking to the dance studio I contemplated my situation. He has been in such a weird mood lately I can’t describe it ever since the incident. We were in a very compromising position...well as comprising as me moaning his name with my legs in the air as it can be. For some reason I think he was more embarrassed then I was. Needless to say I felt very bad for Jimin’s eyes that day the door still has a few cracks in it from when he slammed it. Ever since Namjoon has been in a weird mood all the time. A blush creeps up my neck as I think of that night. I don’t know if it’s from embarrassment or from excitement. I remember it so well. We were so excited to have finished the album so excited in fact that he hugged me which he never does. I remember how he looked at me before kissing me with such need. It was like he was trying to devour me. Soon our hands started roaming up and down each other’s bodies and well you can guess that things escalated. However, just as we were getting to the good part, face in between my legs on his shoulders. Jimin walks in with the other boys behind him but they didn’t see anything due to Jimin slamming the door and saving the last of Namjoon’s and I’s dignity. To this day Jimin still can’t look me in the eyes….poor boy. The sight of Hobi crouched down in front of his phone was quite a funny sight. When he heard me come in he ended what I guess was a VLive and eagerly walked over to me. I  guess his hunger was more important than the millions of fans that were watching him just a few seconds ago. After taking a few bites he looks at me in amusement but with a hint of pity. “ soooooo.” I cut him off “ I don't even want to talk about it.” He snorts as he tries to laugh. “ He’s still not talking to you.” “ Of course he talks to me, he has to if he wants his coffee in the morning” Hobi gives me a look of ‘you can’t be serious’ “ Fine, fine! No he has not talked to me about what happened and to be honest i’d rather not talk about it.” Hobi holds his hands up in defence “ whoa, I’m not to one who got caught.” “ Oh shut up.” He burst out laughing then continued on his food. I decided to take the long way back to Joon’s studio. I need to mentally prepare myself to be in the same room as him. I do wonder what would have happened if Jimin hadn’t walked in would it had escalated further or would you guys have stopped there. The feeling of dread creeps up as you reach the door to his studio and punch the new code. He changed it after the incident. I was not ready for the sight of a shirtless Namjoon in the studio. He looks like a deer in headlights. We make eye contact for several long seconds before I turn away, cheeks red and he puts on a new shirt. “ Sorry I spilled coffee on my shirt and had to change” he says trying to ease the tension in the room. Now if only he could ease the tension in between your legs….. Wait…..shit. You seriously did not just think that. I need to sit down and try to think of other things. The shirt he changed into is a plain white one that fit his muscles so well. If only his fans knew how buff and big this guy really is like, he’s massive. I didn’t realize I was staring at him so long till I saw him begin to turn to look at me. Trying my best to make it look like I wasn’t looking at him I quickly look down at my phone to try to make it look like I was doing something. “Y/N.” Damn his voice is so sexy when he says my name. “ Yes, Namjoon” “ Could you please get me another coffee.” and like that he turns back around without another word and goes back to working on lyrics. It was a short trip to get him his coffee. I looked at my watch to see it read 3AM. God can I just go home already and sleep. When I get back I gently put the coffee on his desk and he nods in appreciation. I got a whiff of him, dear lord does he smell good. Suddenly another wave of heat goes through me and now the want to leave only increases. Now I have a mission when I get home and it’s to get rid of the need to fuck him as soon as possible, and to do that i’m gonna go home and masturbate until it’s hurts. Sitting back down I cross my legs to try to relieve at least some of the pressure between my legs. I need something to distract me and what better way than to read smutty fanfiction. Another hour passed by the amount of pure filth I've read is amazing. Namjoon suddenly stood up and started stretching. I can’t at this point but to shamelessly stare at this building of a man. I can see the trails of little hair that go down into his  jeans. I don’t even notice that he saw me staring at him. It was at this moment I realized that I can’t take this sexual tension anymore. “ Well this has been a very long night. I really need to get home” I turn to grab my purse but stop when I feel a large hand grab my wrist and spend me back to where Namjoon and I are face to face. Literal centimeters apart from each other. He looks at my lips then back to meet my eyes. He speaks in a hush tone. “ Why won’t you talk to me?” Um…what. I think my confusion showed on my face because he takes a step back and runs his fingers through his mullet. “ I just m-mean that you haven’t talked to me since the incident.” Oh my god don’t tell me that all this time he thought that I was avoiding him this entire time. A small “oh” was the only thing to come out of my mouth before I started laughing and I feel like he didn’t like that response. “ ‘oh?’ that's all you have to say. I’ve been sitting here thinking that you hate me for the past week and all you have to say is ‘oh’” I look at him flabbergasted while struggling to hold back my laughter “I-I-...wait no you’ve been the one not talking to me.” he looks at me for a moment before it clicks what was going on. His face falls into his hands as he does a facepalm then he nods his head a little.He looks back up at me and says “ so you mean to tell me that we’ve been avoiding each other because we thought the other person was avoiding us.” I slowly nod my head. He chuckles to himself before sitting down in the chair and looking at me. “ I guess this is kinda funny in a ironic way.” He laughs and just looks at me. I can’t believe him, 148IQ and he pulls shit like this. I am genuinely flabbergasted by this man like how can someone be so smart yet so dumb.  Maybe it was the tiredness or maybe it was the heat pooling between your legs but something compelled me to just throw caution to the wind. So I walked up to his chair, grabbed him by his collar and kissed him. He was caught off guard by it but then he started to kiss me back and pulled me closer to where I had to sit on his lap. We started making out,biting, sucking, the whole shabang when we started feeling eachother up he pulled away with hesitation. Looking down at him with his slightly swollen lips and tousled hair it was a beautiful site so much more different then the fanfics i’ve read about him. “ I really don’t think we should be doing this.” My heart breaks a little as I get up off him feeling humiliated and make my way to my bag, I hear him moving around behind me and something rustling and some clicking noises.  Turning around I see that he has his coat on and has shut down the computers. “ I really don’t want to get caught again, so your house or mine?” He asks as he zips up his coat. I look at him with a WTF do you mean face and he just looks at me and says “ My house then.” I don’t even know how but somehow I am in a car with THE Kim Namjoon on my way to his house. Okay heart come down you’re beating a little too hard, but can I blame myself? I know what’s about to happen but still I can’t help but to be excited. Come on Y/N pull yourself together you’re a grown woman you’ve had sex before and he’s a grown man. Granted you don’t know much about about his sex life but I know he’s had a few one night stands here and there while on tour. Shit, what if I get fired for this? Was this just a pity fuck? He’s staring out the window right now, what if the same thought is going through his head right now? He’s doing that jaw clench thing oh shit what if this really is a pity fuck god that would be really embarassing. I knew I shouldn’t have kissed him fuck fuck fuck…. “Y/N.” “Yes?” He turns and looks at me, “ I’m sorry about not talking to you. I just thought you needed space.” wow way to do a whole 180 on the sexual tension between you guys and make it sentimental. “ It’s ok-” “No it’s not, I should have just taken initiative and talked to you. I was just embarrassed about the whole Jimin walking in on us and I felt like you were avoiding me out of embarrassment. I u-um I really like you Y/N but I know you could get in trouble with the company if we try to do anything, it was hard enough to get the boys to keep quiet about what happened.” He’s ramling “Joon, what are you trying to say?” I try to get him to talk slower so I can understand what he’s saying. “ I’m trying to say that… I really like you like realllly like you. I know however, that if you would be willing to have a relationship with me that we would have to keep it low-key.” wait…. is he asking me out right now. Shit I don’t know what to say to this. I know millions of people who would kill to be in this situation. But do I really want to be hidden from the world and live my life in fear if anyone found out. I’ve know this man for the past 4 years and I didn’t realize the years of romantic tension that has been building between us. If I did date him that means I have to quit my job, I mean, I’d definitely be set up for life with Namjoon. And if we break up what happens then? I won’t have a job to go back to. I think i’ve been quiet for too long cause his face starts to drop, “ I mean if you don’t want to that's ok.” wait no “ Joon I don’t know. It could mean that I have to leave my job. Don’t get me wrong I would love to, but you see what the fanbase does when they see a girl in your lives they’ll crucify me if they knew I exist.” “ But think about the ones who don’t care, Y/N. At some point those fans have to realize that I’m in my mid 20’s and at some point I have to move on and have my own family and life.” I think it over, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we give it a try. “ Ok Joon” His eyes lit up, then he grabbed my face and kissed me. We are in his bed and everything feels so good. His bare chest is pressed against mine. We couldn’t even make it to the bedroom before we started stripping each other, pressing kisses wherever we could before clumsy making our way through his large home to his bedroom. I’ve never been inside of his house before but in that time I did notice that it was very modest in its decorations. By the time we got to his room I was only my bra and panties and him in his boxers. He’s kissing me so hard that I actually think that my lips are bruised. He puts his hand on my back to guide me on his bed as he kisses me and gently puts me on my back and settles between my legs. I can feel his getting hard while he grabs my face and deepens the kiss he pulls back for a second. “Y/N, are you ok with this.” I take a look at him and finally take in how he looks; hair disheveled from me running my hands through it and pulling on it, He was breathing hard and I can see all of his muscles moving. If only the fans knew how built this guy it’s not just that he was musculare he was just big. Every part of him was big and I mean every part of him from his shoulders all the way down to his thighs. I nod and he pushes me back down into the pillows to continue what we were doing before. Soon he started grinding into me slow and steading making me grow wetter with every slow movement his dick had grown harder by then to the point where I was actually concerned if it would even fit inside me. I let my hands roam around his body feeling his every muscle twitch. He started to spread the kisses down my neck sucking and biting, then down to my chest where he unclipped my bra to get fully to my breast. Joon had started sucking on one of my nipples while playing with the other one, teasing it causing me to moan. Smirking up at me he began to trail down further the lower he got the more I noticed how hard I was panting in anticipation for what was about to happen. This isn’t like I had Imagined it was slow and passionate, not rough and frenzied like I had wanted but this was so much better. Looking at my panties he looked up at me smirking, “ Do you wear paties like these everyday.” I nod not wanting him to know that I do wear granny panties most days while thanking God I decided to go with the black thong today. He started pulling them down a couple tugs later they were completely off. Before he could do anything else he stood up and walked to his drawer pulling out a condom and holy shit it’s a king size. Suddenly his phone buzzed on the dresser he walked over to it to see who it was then a look of annoyance on his face is very evitable on his face as he answeredhis phone, “Hello… Right now?... Okay...Yes, Jimin...Okay I’m on my way.” Of course it’s fucking Jimin that has to ruin the moment. Maybe this is a sign. My thoughts are intrupted when I’m shoved back on the bed by a very annoyed Namjoon, oh boy I think this moment just took a turn. I didn’t even realized he put the condom on before he settles inbetween my legs and looks back at me waiting for me to give my approval I nod my head again then in the matter of seconds he lines himself up and begins pushing into me. A few moments later he’s completly inside of me then he dips his head lower to my ear and wispers “ I’m not going to let him ruin this moment for me again.” then proceeds to thrust in and out of me at first slow and steady it felt so sweet having him be inside me filling me up. He does somthing that I didn’t expect though, he pulls out then flips me over onto my belly and goes back in going even herder then he was going before. Wrapping one arm around my throat and putting the other on by the side of my head I can hear his heavy breathing in my ear. “ I’m sorry baby but I have to make this quick they want me back at the studio.” buring his head in the crook of my neck he starts grunting and moaning about how good I feel. By this point I am a moaning mess as I try to reach one arm around to caress his hair but he grabs my hand and pushes it back down. His weight on top of me is sufficating but I love it so much the feeloign of him being inside of me and his thick thighs slamming into mine the lewd sound of skin on skin making me even wetter. I feel my orgasm coming and I start moaning louder he took the hint and moves his hand down to grip my waist making my back arch more has he starts literally drilling into me. Within seconds I became undone under him. He cums soon after with one final thrust. I feel dazed but happy...and really tired so tired I look over to the clock on the nightstand  its 5:30 AM no wonder. His bed is so big and cozy, a girl could get used to this. Joon comes back in the room in clean clothes carring some water and some snacks placing them on the nightstand then sitting on the bed looking at me, “ I have to head back. You can stay here and sleep come in when your ready.” he says as he caresses my hair. I didn’t realize I fell asleep till I woke up hours later in his room I actually thought it was a fever dream. Walking into the studio felt like I was doing a walk of shame down the halls. Walking into Joon’s studio was embarassing to say the least all of the boys were in there and them all stopped talking the look at me. Hobi had a shit eating grin and I knew that he knew not only from that but also from Namjoon’s red face and Jimin seeming mortified. Kookie started laughing, “ I guess we have a new couple.”

[softstraykidsimagines]

Boyfriend!Hyunjin

A/N: SHE PROTECC

SHE ATTACC

BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY

SHE BACC

HI GUYS!!! I’m so happy to be posting again i cry :,)  i hope you enjoy!!!! i;ll be updating as much as i can without rushing too much :D

MASTERLIST

Prepare your wigs peeps

This is gonna make me swerve

I mean

cmon it’s Hyunjin

Let’s do this!

Prince Hyunjin

Is actually smooth af with his crush

He'll complement you whenever he gets the chance

Or gives you food

Basically your knight in shining armor

Ye, that’s not what actually happens

He's smiling like an idiot and about collapse when he’s with you because HE'S FREAKING OUT OK

So freaking nervous his heartbeat is always up when he’s with you

You sometimes think he’s about to have a heart attack and you’re not stupid you know why lmao

Same for when he confesses

At first he’s pretty calm about it

Just casually asked if you wanted to see a movie with him some time

“Like... a-as more than friends?”

You'd kinda expected it so you weren't too shocked when he asked you

So you said yes

Duh

And he does a double take

"Wait.... Are you serious? You want to?"

"Well yeah?"

"WHAT WHY"

Was good with flirting but didn't actually think you'd go out with him smh

Now every minute he just contemplates the fact that he has you

And he still can't believe it

Like shit dude

He’s with the y/n

You never feel unloved when you're with him

He loves going for long walks, just to talk and relax

Why does it sound like he's a dog here lmao

Will always take as many pictures of you as his phone storage will allow, his camera roll is stuffed with pics of you

Will insist on going to the park for a picnic, he just loves you and the sunshine

He loves to quietly slide your hand into his

But he always ends up giggling because he’s so giddy about being with you

Has to take a moment to charge up his courage before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek

He then goes an unreal shade of scarlet as he covers his face, muttering that he ‘can’t believe that he actually did it’! 

It takes him a while to finally gather up the courage to properly kiss you

Like.... a very long time

You were starting to get worried that he didn’t actually like you

Maybe he was just too nervous to tell you that it wasn’t working for him

buT NOPE

On one certain date, Hyunjin had prepared a cute little dinner on the practice room floor

He was so apologetic about the poor setting, but finally had stopped saying sorry when you’d told him for the 2376129th time that you were having fun

At some point, he just went uber silent, watching you not in a creepy way

You eventually noticed, and just stared back

“What?”

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes did widen a wee bit

“What are you lookin at, you’re sorta scaring m-”

He cut you off and just kissed you

BOI YOU WERE SO SHOCKED

Afterwards you both just stared at each other

And then Hyunjin goes all red

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that I’m sorry that was stupid you can slap me if you want!!!!”

“Bruh why would I want to slap you?!”

“You don’t hate me?”

facepalms for days

You meet the other boys only a few minutes later

Go figure

You’re talking casually, the embarrassment from the kiss wearing off

They all come stampeding into the practice room making an ungodly racket

And all go quiet when they realize what they’ve done

Changbin, bless him, tries to reduce the awful level of awkwardness: “*cough* uh hey, Hyunjin.... This must be y/n right?” He waves at you. “We’ve heard a lot about you, Hyunjin never stops talking about you”

He misses the death glare Hyunjin shoots him

Then Jisung

Freakin Jisung, man

Waltzes up: “Hyunjin’s cheeks are really pink”. He gives a cheeky smile. “You didn’t kiss did you?”

The room goes as quiet as a tomb

“OH SHIT YOU DIDN’T ACTUALLY KISS DID YOU????”

Of course Hyunjin completely loses his shit at the sight of you turning a deep red. “GODDAMMIT JISUNG STFU”

Ye your first meeting with SKZ wasn’t the best

But you all bonded rather quickly after

And Jisung buys you little snacks sometimes as an apology for your first awkward meeting

OH GOD THE BOYS ADORE YOU

If you’re ever sick, they always get snacks for Hyunjin to give you

And if you’re really under the weather, they’ll cover for Hyunjin so that he can stay with you and take care of you.

He wraps you in blankets

YOU ARE NOW A BURRITO

And tries to make soup for you

We know what cooking!Hyunjin leads to

You’re chilling on the couch and you suddenly hear a high-pitched scream

You’re up and sprinting to the kitchen at the speed of light still wrapped in a burrito

To find him fanning at a smoking pot

“WHAT THE FUCK HYUNJIN YOU JUST NEED TO HEAT IT UP HOW DID YOU START A MINI FIRE?”

You’re home doesn’t burn down thank goodness

And you end up heating some soup for yourself while Hyunjin watches

And it’s! hilarious! when he’s sick!

He becomes a little ten-year-old istg

But in a really cute way

He doesn’t ask for anything: food, to watch TV etc

Nah he just wants cuddles

The whole damn day

So while you’re struggling to keep a mask on and not getting sneezed on, this idiot is smiling like a puppy if puppies could smile, clinging onto you like a love-filled leach did that sound weird? i think that sounded really weird

i want this tattooed on my face thx

Now idk what this dude is afraid of

Something tells me one big fear would be to lose Stray Kids and the people he loves

And so I think he’d get kinda nervous when you both see less of each other and when he gets busier

You can’t talk as much because of his crazy schedule and with lack of sleep, he starts getting more irritated easier during the little intervals of time you get to see each other

At some point he might snap at you, maybe for no reason at all, and you’ll snap back indignantly

Yeah you love him but you’re not taking any attitude

If things get really bad, he just shakes his head, saying he needs some air

You’ll both give yourselves some space, but eventually Hyunjin becomes terrified that you’re too angry with him to talk again

So he goes to find you and talk

You both hug it out and decide to spent the rest of the day together for more quality time

And it’s totally worth Hyunjin getting an earful from Chan the next day

OK back to fluff quickly quickly

On the days Hyunjin goes somewhere, you sometimes join him in the car ride, tho you’re always super careful to never show your face when he gets out

Gotta stay hidden yknow?

You’ll both send cute little texts throughout the day and OOF just couple goals

You: hey check this out, this is me 2 u *sends heart meme*

Jiiniie<3: oh yeah? well this is me @ u! *sends heart meme with more hearts*

You: boi dont start smth u cant win!

And thus begins the heart meme wars

r they even called heart memes idk

i want this tattooed on my face pt2

We’ve already established that Hyunjin can’t cook for love or money

So if he even steps foot in the dorms’ kitchen

You bet that at least two other of his hyungs will follow for pure supervision

And he is not, under any circumstances, allowed to cook something by himself

And you’re grateful that your safety and world peace had been assured by this rule

Although, you’re allowed to cook together as long as you watch what he’s doing

If anything at all goes wrong, the blame is pinned on you

So it’s natural for you to treat these cooking projects as once-in-a-while occasions

Now when you ask about meeting his parents

Holy Hell

Stutters, clammy hands, flitting eyes, you name it

Hyunjin is so frickin nervous about you meeting his parents oof

You don’t understand why, like hey, how bad could it be right?

But pretty soon you get why Jinnie was nervous

His parents aren’t that trusting within the first hour of knowing you

You guess it might be because of poor past experiences?

Maybe Hyunjin had been judged or dated once too many times just for his looks?

The thought is enough to make you swear by all you know to always treat him like a treasure

You also make a mental note to ask him sometime

Eventually, his parents realize you have pure intentions and they become so much kinder and warmer

They let you know how welcome you are to visit whenever you want, they offer to send you off with some homemade cookies...

And Hyunjin gets so emotional at the beautiful site in front of him that he bursts into tears

Which causes you and his parents to tease and hug him

if you’re thick, let’s just be clear that im making a statement on how you should NOT judge Jinnie purely because he’s good looking, appreciate his talent!

Now, Hyunjin is kinda tall compared to the rest of SKZ hah im joking of course so it’s pure instinct to want to steal his shirts

Don’t lie, if you had the chance, you would take something i see right thru u

And at some point in your life, you stop realizing ‘hey, this isn’t my jumper!’ and just walk around in clothes that aren’t yours

And when this happens, three things follow:

You see a wild Hyunjin crashing through the apartment towards you, yelling happily that ‘that’s my favorite hoodie!!’ he tries to act like he’s angry and fails in 0.0000003 sec

He doesn’t slow down and freakin slams into you at full velocity, knocking you over or off anything you might be sitting on

He proceeds to tickle you mercilessly, until you either can’t breath and turn purple or until you commit an extreme act of violence in the name of self defense

Once this chaotic episode ends, most of the time with both of you are completely knackered and just lying on the floor

You both cool off by just cuddling and watching something on TV

Or reading something together!!!

I can totally see Hyunjin shoving one of his fav books in your face and insisting that you both take turns in reading aloud to each other

And you both react at the same time to shockers in the book, like you start crying together when a character dies who hasn’t had that traumatic experience or you both squeal with joy and hug each other tighter when something great happens

Did I just turn into a puddle of happy goo?

Yes I fuckin did.

I think Hyunjin wouldn’t take that long to tell you that he loves you

That doesn’t mean that he planned anything tho

HAH! Course he didn’t

Probs says it when he can barely think straight

Maybe you’re watching him dance late at night

You’d brought snacks to keep him going ‘cause he was working his ass off

And there you sit, marveling at his skill and fluidity while executing his choreo

You have a talent for hyping Hyunjin up while he dances, cheering when he leaps high into the air, gasping when he performs a complicated move, and aw-ing and his graceful poses ok im done now

When he finishes one of his more dramatic dances, you jump up with glee and tackle him in a hug despite him being sweaty, saying how proud you are

He hugs you back happily and says:

“I should be the proud one, having someone I love so much being so supportive of me”.

You both freeze, still hugging each other

And neither of you move or breathe for a moment

“What did you say?”

“UhhhHHHH NOTHING I SAID NOTHING”

“You said that you love me!”

“WAT NO I DIDN’T I-”

“HYUNJIN I LOVE YOU TOO!!!!”

“N- wait what?”

“I love you, dumbass” same tho

Oof that poor practice room has seen a lot of awkwardness

I’m cracking up just by thinking of how hopeless Hyunjin could become when SKZ are away

“Hey do you guys have a signal and/or data? I wanna Skype y/n and show them the beautiful view”.

*all of SKZ facepalms*

Always taking pictures to show you

In the evenings, you get a frickin cascade of notifications of both photos and messages from the poor boy telling you he misses you like crazy

When Skyping, he asks to see Khami, who you have the pleasure of caring for during his absence

You do question (mentally and then verbally) whether he calls to talk to you or his dog

He never answers the question heh

There’s lowkey a competition between you and Khami for Hyunjin’s affection

When the boys make their flight home, Hyunjin keeps you informed about everything that’s happening

I mean everything:

Jiiniie<3: we’re @ the airport :D     -6h ago

Jiiniie<3: waiting to board!     -5h ago

Jiiniie<3: they’re getting ready to go, i can’t wait to see you!! xxx      -5h ago

Jiiniie<3: will text you when we arrive, love!     -5h ago

Jiiniie<3: JUST LANDED! CANT WAIT TO HUG U     -31mins ago

Jiiniie<3: about to get our luggage!     -Just now

You get the point -_-

When you finally see each other, he runs at top speed to pick you up and spins you around

frickin goals man i feel so sad writing this :,)

He goes public in probably the most aesthetic way that’s physically possible

He posts a bunch of gorgeous photos-

Courtesy of Jisung

-of your silhouettes in front of sunsets

-Pics he took of you laughing during a cafe trip

-Bomb-ass selcas where you’re both lookin hella fine

Just

UGGHHH

SO! AESTHETIC!!!

Naturally, the internet freaks the fuck out

Both of you are kinda nervous about the explosive reaction

There are salty bitches who are telling you to piss off because they jelly

But the huge majority of Stay are crying with happiness and wishing you both well

this better happen in the future im watching all of u

And soon Hyunjin is talking about you on vLives, proud af because y/n freakin rules!

OhmyGod I love Hyunjin

Damn my heart be like < HYUNJIN 3 phew