#i was feeling cringe the whole morning cause i felt something embarrassing from last night and then i was like oo i tried to order coffee 😬

[sugaroto]

I embarrassed myself last night by trying to order a coffee on a souvlatzidiko, BUT I woke up and realized I dreamt this so- everything is fine. I did not in fact embarrass myself. HA.

Also how sleepy can one be to try and order coffee in their sleep ajsbjdg

[josephquinnswhore]

Hey! I know you just posted it and i'm not even sure if you take requests but could you write a part 2 to Vanilla, please? About the morning after, where her entire body is really hurting but she doesn't want to say anything as to not make him feel worse

Bittersweet

Pairing: Joel Miller X fem! Reader

Summary: Joel finds out you’re hiding how much pain you’re in post-rough sex and does something sweet to make it up to you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: bruises, insecurity.

Note: anyway kinda went haywire I wanted a really happy ending LOL. Hope you love it!!

When you wake the sun is beaming through the window weakly, the winter clouds preventing you from feeling it’s full warmth. The winter coolness of a morning was harsh, your toes feeling stiff from the lack of warmth as they poke out of the blankets. When you roll over to face Joel, you find yourself retracting your fingers that meet the coldness of his side of the bet, groaning when you realise he isn’t there. It was a rare occasion that both of you had the morning off-you knew Joel wasn’t on rotation for patrol until tomorrow morning. Perhaps he decided to pick up extra shifts, maybe he just wanted an excuse to be away from you after what happened last night. You cringe at the thought as you find the will to pull yourself out of bed, your whole body aching from every place you could think of as you wobble unsteadily to the bathroom. It takes you a steady minute to undress yourself of Joel’s shirt he put on you last night, your joints resisting the movement. When you see yourself in the mirror you frown, there are visible angry red long marks left by the rope that had bound your arms, your hips had bruises forming in the shape of Joel’s fingers, you don’t forget the ache in your lower back where the springs from the old mattress had dug in, turning your head and twisting your back so you could see; you’re met with a green and yellow bruise forming and you wince when you see it.

You turn on the knobs for the shower, turning the hot more than the cold so you could try and emerge yourself in the heat. The cold air was brutal on your bare body. You jump when there’s a knock on the door, “honey?” You clear your throat of any lumps forming at the sound of his voice, “yeah?” There was shuffling on the other side of the door, “can I come in?” You put your hand in the water, deciding the temperature was good before stepping in, sighing heavily when the hot water runs down your body, providing some relief to the pain you’re in. “Uh, I just wanna shower by myself, if that’s okay.” You mumble nervously, not wanting Joel to see the state of your body. There’s a moment of silence before you hear his footsteps descend down the stairs. A sigh leaves your lips, unaware you were even holding your breath as you waiting for him to leave. The guilt that crept up the back of your neck for denying him felt disgusting, you had never said no to Joel joining you in the shower, you were afraid of Joel seeing your body in this state, you were ashamed of it. You were embarrassed, you had never used your safe word before, you felt nothing short of a disappointment for using it. The guilt crawled up you when you remember the way Joel panicked, you never wanted to disappoint him like that; there was no lack of choices in terms of women for Joel to chose from, if you couldn’t please him why would he keep you around, the thought was hard to swallow and lodged in the middle of your throat causing you to sob. You let the water run over you as your body looses control, trembling under the water of the thought of Joel finding someone else; it’s not like he couldn’t either. He was charming, loyal, protective, passionate. He was a catch, in that moment you decided to act like it was completely fine; all of it, you couldn’t let him know you weren’t okay after last night.

You finally find the nerve to shut off the shower, gently splashing your face in an effort to rid your face of the redness from crying. You turn the knobs and shut the water off. The cold clinging to your wet body with a chill that had your body covered in goosebumps. You pull the towel around yourself, which provided little in terms of warmth for your body. I guess in some way it provided some protection, covering most of the hurt parts of your body. Your body had a slight tremble from the winter air as you walk into your shared room, to find Joel sitting on the bed with his head hung low, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands running through his hair in an anxiety fuelled panic. “Joel?” His head shot up as you stood there, too far for his own liking, you kept a distance from him that he didn’t like. “Honey. What’s going on with you?” Joel stands from the bed and you try not to recoil away from him, not in fear, but embarrassment, you don’t want him to see your body battered, in a way that makes you look weak. His hands on your arms snapped you out of your dissociation, his eyes turning hard and changing colour as he inspected the red marks that litter your skin on your arms, from his doing. “Does this hurt?” You shake your head in a lie, which is immediately exposed when Joel grips your arm gently to which you wince, your face scrunching in pain as it contorts. “Is there more?” You nod yes, he eyes you with a look you can’t recognise, you don’t do anything to intervene as his warm hands find the top of your towel and unfolds it, it falls from your body and pools around your ankles. You clamp your eyes shut, not wanting to see his reaction when he sees the bruises, your body ache in full swing as he inspects your body, poking and prodding causing you to tense up each time. Your arms find themselves crossing over your breasts, trying to find some security in your bareness that had you feeling ashamed.

Joel’s hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “Look at me honey.” You obey and look him in the eyes, trying to read him as he observes you. “Why didn’t you tell me that I hurt you this bad?” The vulnerability in Joel’s voice had your knees buckling, he sits you on the bed, taking off his flannel and pulling it over you. “Didn’t want you to worry bout me. I felt disgusting seeing these marks on my body. Felt weak and thought you’d just find someone else if you thought I was weak.” Your voice is a whisper as you speak, words echoing through the room and piercing through Joel’s heart like a wooden steak, splintering with every word that leaves your mouth. “Didn’t want me to worry bout you? Baby are you outta your mind. Course I worry about you, especially when I did this to you.” He exhaled loudly, trying to keep his emotions steady and regulate his emotions, just as you had taught him. “I don’t think you look disgusting, I could never think you’re weak. Remember those four men that raided our camp as we slept, you took em all out baby, think that’s when I realised I fell in love with you.” You look at Joel at his admittance, a softness on his face you had only seen a handful of times. You lean into his shoulder, “I couldn’t let anything happen to you or Ellie.” Joel leans into your touch, welcoming your warmth. “That’s just one thing that drew me to you, you’re smart, calculating, nurturing, compassionate, strong, patient, loving.” Your eyes become glossy with tears, Joel had never been this open with you before, you were enamoured by his openness and vulnerability. “You taught me to open up, to forgive myself and to be vulnerable, all things I thought were bullshit before, things that made a man weak, but now it makes me a better man, for you. Not for anyone else honey,” he turns to you and his long arms slink around your waist, his brown orbs watch you lovingly, “never want anyone else baby, you’re mine till I die.” His nose nudges your cheek as he kisses the corner of your lips. You giggle at him as he watches you intensely, “what if I die first?” Joel shakes his head, dismissing the thought. “Ain’t gonna happen.” You raise an eyebrow. “It might.” Joel scoffs, “not if I can help it, couldn’t live without you.”

Your fingers trace his patchy salt and pepper beard, kissing the heart shaped patch of skin where the hair refused to grow. “Couldn’t live without you either Joel.” He grunts, “don’t say that. Ellie would need you, you’re like her mother.” Your cheeks flush red and they grow hot at Joel’s admission. You playfully hit his arm, “alright mister, no more talk of that, have you had breakfast?” He laughs, the sound is like your very own source of dopamine. “Made you breakfast while you were showerin, come on down and we’ll eat together.” You took his hand as he helped you up, his flannel on your body was extremely overdose, covering your legs mid thigh. “Oh hey, you finally decide to join me. I’m starving here waiting for you old people.” Ellie jokes as she sits at the small wooden dining table. Joel pulls out your chair for you and you sit down. “Thank you.” Your cheeks are still red at the act of kindness. “God you’re like a tomato did you guys have a quickie upstairs or something?” You and Joel both laugh, “how do you even know what that is?” Joel questions and Ellies cheeks are burning red on her pale skin, “I just know stuff.” You mock scoff, “so it’s got nothing to do with hanging out with that nice girl, Dina is it?” Ellies brown orbs widen in shock and she stuttered. “Alright, alright let’s just eat.” You stifle a look and you look at Joel as you start to eat the fresh fruit on your plate. “We look like a real nice family don’t we?” You nod in agreement, humming as you chew on a strawberry, the sweetness an indication of its perfect ripeness. “Yeah we do, don’t we?” You reply with a smile on your face as you look at your family lovingly. You couldn’t help but feel pride for the man Joel had become, and the young lady Ellie was becoming as a result of your guidance. Your family.

[shemarmooresfedora]

HI!!

I’m so happy for you to have hit 200 and now 300 followers!! You deserve a gold star ⭐️

I was looking at the prompts I think 4, 6, 12 sound good!! Again, I’m super happy that at your follower count. You’re a great writer and I can’t wait to see wait else you come up with 💕

You Don’t Ever Have to Hide From Me

Summary: You and Spencer are forced to share a hotel room but insecurities get the best of you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: internal angst due to body image issues, fluffy ending!

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: why did i just write and edit this whole thing to avoid editing my other WIP which would have taken me less time. i just have been feeling in a bit of a rut lately so i needed some good old-fashioned spencer reassurance. prompt requests close tomorrow at 5 pm EST

Masterlist

Hotch came back from the receptionist’s desk, “We’re going to have to double up on rooms. They’re a little short.”

JJ and Emily paired off together immediately to no one’s surprise.

“I’m not sleeping with Reid,” Derek shook his head.

“Alright, Morgan, you’re with me,” Hotch stated, handing the last card to Spencer, “Sorry, they only have a king room, not twins.”

You groaned internally, flashing Spencer an awkward grin that he returned with his classic tight-lipped smile.

You had nothing against Reid, in fact, you would go out on a limb to say that you would call him your friend rather than coworker. But, all you wanted was to relax and let sleep take over you and now you would be up all night, afraid of snoring or anything else you could do to possibly embarrass yourself in front of your newly-budding crush.

You and Spencer rode the elevator up to the second floor in complete silence. Spencer slipped the key card into the slot on the door and pushed it open as it blinked green. He gestured for you to enter first because he was always such a gentleman.

“You can take a shower first if you want,” you offered to diffuse some of the awkward tension.

“Okay, thanks,” Spencer collected his change of clothes and headed into the bathroom.

As you gathered your belongings, you fell onto the bed in exasperation when you realized you only packed a cotton bralette and PJ shorts to wear to bed because you hadn’t been expecting to share a room at all let alone with Spencer.

“All yours,” Spencer smiled softly as he exited the bathroom, ruffling a towel through his curly locks to dry them.

“Thanks,” you murmured, reluctantly grabbing the skimpy clothing and heading into the bathroom.

Spencer was reading with only the nightstand lamp on when you finished your shower. You exited the bathroom with your dirty clothes balled up in front of you to hide your bare torso.

You crawled into bed on the opposite side of Spencer, putting as much space between you as possible. You were practically falling off the edge of the bed in an attempt to keep your distance.

You cleared your throat, “I’m putting a pillow between us. Under no circumstances do you cross it, okay?”

You took one of the extra pillows on your side and placed it right in the middle of the bed.

“Understood,” Spencer nodded, clicking off the lamp, “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Spencer.”

-

You awoke to the feeling of arms wrapped around you. You could feel Spencer’s soft, even breaths against your neck. But then you felt his hands touching your exposed stomach. You cringed as the insecurities bubbled up.

You leapt up from the bed which startled Spencer awake. Your arms were crossed tightly around your front to shield Spencer from seeing any more of your body in the morning light.

“I-I told you not to cross the pillow,” you spoke softly.

Spencer noticed he had gravitated to your side of the bed throughout the night.

“Y/N, I am so so sorry. I swear I was asleep, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all. I’ll sleep on the floor tomorrow night,” Spencer sputtered.

“Don’t bother, okay? Just forget it. I can take the floor or hopefully a new room will open up by then,” you gave him a small smile to show you weren’t mad and grabbed your bag, heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

-

You sighed, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror the following night. No new rooms opened up and you didn’t ask to switch with anyone because you didn’t want to cause a fuss. You also didn’t want Spencer feeling bad because you knew he hadn’t meant to do it on purpose.

You had practically begged Derek to lend you his biggest sweatshirt for the night. When he asked for a reason, you just shrugged, muttering something about the air conditioning in your room being broken and he gave it to you.

Spencer was reading once again with the lamp on when you exited the bathroom, much more covered this time.

Spencer immediately stood when he heard the door open.

“I already made a bed on the floor for me. I was just using your bed to be close to the lamp while you were in there,” Spencer quickly explained, getting himself situated on the floor.

“Spencer, I really don’t mind taking the floor,” you said.

“I was the one who crossed the boundaries, Y/N. I am taking the floor, I should have taken it the first night too. I’m so sorry I made you uncomfortable,” Spencer stated.

“It’s okay, Spencer. Night,” you yawned.

“Night, Y/N,” he sighed.

Spencer heard your breathing even out but he couldn’t go to sleep.

It all made sense now. You got upset when he cuddled with you last night, rightfully so, but he couldn’t figure out why until now. You and Derek must have a thing. Why else would you be wearing Derek’s sweatshirt? You were trying to send a message to him.

Spencer rolled over and eventually fell into a restless sleep at the thought of his crush liking Derek.

-

“Just so you know, Derek’s a good guy even though he may put on a bit of a ‘player’ act,” Spencer stated to you as you were packing your bags.

The case had wrapped so you were heading home on the jet soon. You could finally have a room to yourself, not that Spencer wasn’t great company but it was just nerve-wracking to be constantly over-analyzing your every move when with your crush.

“Um okay?” you zipped up your suitcase and set it by the door.

“Is it serious or is it more of a casual thing? When did it first start? You guys should probably fill out the HR paperwork to cover the team from any liabilities,” he began to ramble.

“Spencer-”

“Don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me. I don’t really have anyone to tell anyways besides you and Morgan but obviously you two already know-”

“God, can you just listen to me for a second?”

This caused Spencer to close his mouth.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you but I figured I should save you the breath. Morgan and I aren’t dating, seeing each other, or in any sort of romantic relationship,” you stated.

“But you were wearing his sweatshirt last night?” Spencer’s brow furrowed.

You pursed your lips and closed your eyes, “I’m not exactly the most comfortable in my body...especially around people I like.”

“Can I hug you?” Spencer asked softly.

You nodded and you felt yourself being enclosed in his warm embrace.

“You don’t ever have to hide from me, Y/N. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever and will ever lay my eyes on, inside and out,” Spencer whispered in your ear.

“And I like you too,” he added, “Not that you need them but if you’re going to be borrowing anyone’s clothes, they’re going to be mine,” he smiled.

“Good to know because I’ve had my eyes on that purple sweater of yours for a while,” you grinned.

taglist: (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, trauma, sextoy, recording, anal.

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: It was close but y’all wanted more Birch!Sam so here we go. This one is... porn. Let’s be honest lmao.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Come on in, sit right down

💀💀💀

It was a pain you’d never felt before. It was more than physical, it was deep, it was like part of you was missing. Something taken from you. More than just that outdated concept of purity that you never bought into, more so your autonomy. You never felt very in control of your life, trapped in the small town with dreams but now your life was completely out of your grasp.

Sam left late, some time after midnight. It didn’t matter, you still felt him inside of you. You tried to rinse him off of you, out of you, but the shower only left you cold and hollow. You gave up on sleep just after five in the morning and you typed in a trance, barely thinking as your fingers fluttered over the keyboard.

Hours passed like days and you descended as you heard your nan below, the clink of her heavy cast iron pot on the stove. She cooked her oatmeal in it and it was heavy enough to hammer back in the loose floorboard in front of the fridge. She offered you some as you entered the kitchen and you sat at the table with a sigh.

“Is that man coming back?” she asked.

You tilted your head at her as she put a bowl in front of you and the bag of sugar just for you. You sprinkled the brown granules over your oatmeal and added milk, “you looking forward to it?”

“The only reason I didn’t spray Lysol in his eyes was because of you, girly,” she sat heavy with the jar of artificial sugar and the little cinnamon container, “you know I’d do anything to keep you safe even if you’re too dumb for your own good.”

You nodded and scooped up the thick oatmeal. You pushed your tongue through the oats and said nothing.

“I told you to stay away from that bar,” she huffed. The crotchety old lady was back.

“You seemed happy enough about the pie and wine,” you shrugged.

“You think I don’t know his kind. I’m an old lady, that won’t keep him from cracking my skull like poor old Mikey Rae,” she tutted, “that was the first biker I fucked with.”

“Nan,” you gasped at her language.

“Well, you’re an adult now. Gonna have to grow up quick if you messin’ with those boys,” she pointed her spoon at you, “but you say the word and I’ll twist his balls off. Being old only means I gotta be patient.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. You knew she was serious and you realised then that it was all a show. A cautious act that you’d mirrored for her own sake. But this was a problem you had to deal with yourself. The one thing you couldn’t live with was bringing harm to the woman who raised you.

“No ball twisting, nan,” you shook your head, “alright?”

“For now,” she returned, “but you be careful, girly. You’re in deep enough.”

“I know,” you bit the edge of your lip, “nan?”

“Mmm,” she grumbled as she swallowed.

“Mikey Ray, if he was one of them, who bashed him?” you asked.

“The second one, Colin,” she frowned, “cocky bugger, took what he wanted… until he got what he couldn’t handle.”

“And what happened to him?”

It was the most your nan ever told you about those days, more inclined to talk about her hippy festivals and protest arrests.

“I twisted his balls off,” she snickered, “in a manner of speaking.”

You drew your brows together as you watched her take another bite and she opened the pocket book of crosswords she kept on the table.

“In a manner of speaking?” you wondered.

“I plead the fifth,” she took the pencil from between the pages and adjusted her thick glasses, “but he wasn’t around to cause me any trouble.”

You shoved another spoonful into your mouth and sat back. You always thought your nan was a tough old bitch, you couldn’t imagine what she was like when she was your age.

💀

Sam showed up just after noon. You weren’t surprised but you weren’t happy either. You were only thankful he came in the back. You didn’t need Nan following through on her threats and you would rather she didn’t know about the visit. If you were fortunate, she didn’t notice him for her knitting.

He knocked on your door and you unlocked it. He made no move to enter as he twirled your phone between his fingers.

“Charged it last night,” he smiled, “thought we could have some more fun.”

“I’m working,” you said quietly.

“Did I ask?” his lips straightened and he tilted his head, “and it’s about time you came over. Kind feels off with the old lady just on the other side of the wall.” You winced at the memory of the night before. He noticed and chuckled. “Kinda hot too but… still,” he mused.

“You can’t come back later?” you crossed your arms.

“You were so good last night,” he said, “I don’t like this little game you’re playing so don’t make me give the old lady a show. Let’s go.”

You dropped your arms and grabbed your thinner jacket from the back of your chair and shoved your feet into your zip up Martens. He waited with his arm across the open door and you stepped past him as his other hand went to your ass and squeezed. He closed the door and followed you down the wooden steps.

The snow wasn’t as deep as the first fall and you crunched through to the sidewalk. He placed his arm over your shoulders as he ushered you along to the main road. You passed The Asp and cut through the lot as he waved to other members of the club.

“I talked to Bucky, let him know you won’t be an issue any longer,” he said, “right?”

“Right,” you echoed and hugged yourself against the bitter air.

“Aw, honey, don’t worry, we’re about to get you warmed up,” he led you down another side street and up the paved walk of a pale blue house, “this is my place, Chez, uh, Wilson.”

He let you inside and nudged you further in as he followed. You slid out of your boots and he helped you out of your jacket. His impatience showed as he unzipped his coat and tore off his own boots. He took out your phone and grinned.

“Today,” he held it up, “you can get this back… if you earn it.”

You stared at him and picked at the hem of your shirt. His eyes followed the movement of your fingers and he licked his lips.

“Why yes, you can take that off, that’s a great start,” he purred, “all of it.”

You clenched your teeth and gripped the fabric nervously. He shouldered past you and pointed across the front room.

“You can go wait for me in there,” he said, “I’ll be a couple.”

You nodded and made to pass him but he stopped you before you could enter the living room. The place was cozy even if you didn’t want to be there. He bent and turned your face up to kiss you sloppily. He tapped your ass again as he urged you onward.

“Gotta loosen you up,” he taunted, “in more ways than one.”

You continued across the room if only to get away from him, even if it wouldn't be for long. You pushed past the painted door and entered the bedroom. The wall was hung with a large framed diagram of a Harley and another of a bike engine. There was a large poster for the Godfather and a Marvin Gaye album leaned against a retro player. The bed was made and the carpet freshly vacuumed.

You went to the dresser and looked over the dog tags that hung from a miniature statue of David. You looked up at the large mirror over the dresser and you looked as scared as you felt. You gulped down your nerves as he entered and looked away from your reflection.

He had a stool in hand and kicked the door closed. He placed it between the bed and the dresser. He kept his hands on the top and his chest flexed beneath his grey henley. He watched you knowingly and tutted.

“You’re not naked,” he said, “don’t you want this back?”

He let go of the stool and revealed your phone once more. You murmured and lifted your shirt slowly. He went to the dresser and unfolded a small metal tripod and affixed the cell to it. He angled it then slid out the top drawer. You scoffed as he turned around with a large suction dildo and stuck it to the top of the stool, your hands frozen on your open fly.

“Um, what the hell?” you sputtered.

“I think you know what the hell but I’m more than happy to give direction,” he wiggled the dildo and let it wobble as he pulled away.

You gaped at it. You couldn’t fit that whole thing in you. How were you even supposed to get yourself onto that?

“Honey, quit stalling,” he warned as he put his hands on his hips. You blinked at him and scowled, “or we can make a special post for TikTok… but I think it might be against their terms of service.”

You glanced away and pushed down your jeans. You let your socks crumple in the ankles and stood to unhook your bra. He hummed as he moved to lean against the wall beside the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. You hesitated before you shimmied out of your panties, shying away as you eyed the stool.

“Oh,” he pushed away from the wall and reached into the drawer again. He tossed you a tube and you caught it. Lubricant. “You’re gonna wanna get some of that on there.”

You inhaled deeply and flipped open the cap. You cringed as you hovered the bottle over the tip of the dildo and squirted it onto the silicone. You spread it down the length of the toy and your hand shook. You felt him watching you as embarrassment burned through you.

You finished and capped the lube and set it on the dresser. He nodded to the toy and lifted a brow. You hid your discomfort and approached the stool. You stepped up onto the crossbar and clung to the edge of the seat as you brought your knee up. You felt as if it would all topple as you brought your other leg up.

You shuddered as you felt the tip against your cunt and you reached unsteadily between your legs. You rubbed the head of the toy against your folds to spread the lube and peeked over at Sam.

“Go on,” he ordered, “if you can get that whole thing inside you, I’ll give you your phone back.”

You gripped the toy and pushed it back to your entrance. You lowered yourself a little so it stretched you just slightly. You scrunched your nose at the discomfort and slowly eased further onto it. You got halfway and stopped as you gasped. Your fingers curled around the seat and the toy.

“You’re doing good, honey,” his voice was smoky and you looked at yourself in the mirror. The phone blocked the bottom half of the toy but you could see your cunt around the top.

You bent your knees further and groaned as your walls strained around the dildo. Your eyes watered as it hit your cervix and you arched your back to take it as deep as you could. You cried out as you reached the base.

“Whoa, you really did it,” he mused, “fuck, you look good all stretched out.”

You whimpered and adjusted your legs as you tried not to slip.

“Well, you know what to do,” he motioned up and down with his fingers.

“Please,” you breathed, “I did--”

“Not done yet,” he said pointedly.

You huffed and lifted yourself carefully. You pushed back down and let out a moan as the toy grazed your walls. The fullness was overwhelming, a painful pressure laced with pleasure. You rocked your hips as you moved on your knees and gripped the edge of the stool, mindful not to shake the stool too much.

You closed your eyes as your breath hitched. You needed more. The toy could only do so much as your clit thrummed and the wetness spread down your thighs.

“Mmmm,” Sam came around you and snaked his arm down your front. He pushed his fingers between your swollen folds and circled your bud, “you like that, don’t you, honey?”

You whined as your nerves sparked at his fingertips and you sped up. He planted his foot on the crossbar to keep the stool from tipping and you rode out your orgasm as his touch spurred you on.

“Ah, fuck,” he pressed against your back, “I’m so fucking hard.”

You panted and opened your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror but quickly shied away. You were weak, so weak.

He stepped around you and reached for the lube. You watched him as you didn’t move from atop the toy and he rounded you again. He drizzled the lube between your cheeks and flung the lube away. He pushed his fingers along your ass and lingered on your tight ring. You winced and tried to lift yourself off the dildo.

He caught your shoulder and held you down.

“Again,” he ordered.

You glanced at him in the mirror and he gave you a stern look as his fingers tightened around your shoulder. You held your breath and began to fuck the toy again. He nuzzled the back of your head and poked against your ass until his finger slid inside. You cried out and his hand went to your neck as he urged you on.

“Ah, honey,” he whispered against your hair.

He drew his finger in and out of your ass as a burning pressure seared through you and added to that in your cunt. 

“You can touch yourself,” he uttered as his fiery breath encircled you.

You did so without thinking. He pushed another finger into you and a squeak escaped your lips. You couldn’t help but delight in how the sensations mingled and bloomed to a new climax. He sped up in time with your hips and your legs shook as you came in a series of strangled mewls.

He kept on until you slowed to catch your breath. He slipped his fingers out of you and your head lolled as he removed his hand from your neck. You heard his zipper and as you looked back, his hand stretched across the back of your head and turned it straight. He bent so his head was next to yours and grasped your chin as he made you look at him in the mirror.

“One more time, honey,” he pulled his dick out and his tip brushed along your ass.

You tried to lift yourself off the toy but he hooked his arm around your middle and kept you on it.

“Sam, no, please,” you begged, “I can’t--”

“You can handle it all, honey,” he purred, “I know you can.”

His tip pressed to your ring as he forced you down on the toy. You exclaimed and he pushed until you stretched around the head of his cock. You gritted your teeth and threw your head back against his shoulder. 

He pulled back and pushed in again. He got deeper with each slow thrust, an inch at a time, until you were filled by him and the toy. Your eyes welled and the tears trickled down your cheeks as you held onto the stool and grunted through each tilt of his hips.

He trailed his hand down between your legs and spread your folds as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. He moved you against him and on the toy. He pushed into as the dildo reached its limit and your voice grew louder and louder. 

Through the agony, you couldn’t help but feel the unyielding tingle in your core and it crawled down your thighs and up your spine. The stool rocked with his motion but he kept you flush to him as he fucked you from behind. Your legs slipped over the side of the seat and you were impaled on the toy.

He didn’t let up as you gasped and gulped, whining as your cunt twitched around the silicone and you came as you reached back to scratch at his open jeans. He rutted into you without relent as he kneaded your thighs and his breath seared down your flesh.

“Ah, honey,” he muttered through his delighted groans, “goddamn, god-- shit, I’m gonna fill you up.”

He slammed into you as deep as he could and you felt him burst. He gave several long thrusts as rode out his orgasm and groaned. When he stilled he leaned against you and sighed.

“You can have the phone back,” he rasped as he caressed your thigh, “tomorrow.”

[badassbuchanan]

No Goodbye Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: angst, cringe, mentions of grieving, soft!bucky

Word Count: 7474

A/N: I’m sorry for the poor quality of this, pls don't hate me

“Bucky, you know I have to do this.” Steve pressed his lips together as he looked sympathetically over at Bucky. His decision wasn’t an easy one, and his best friend trying to change his mind was only making it harder. “I’m leaving her with my best pal.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly, witnessing the distress on his face, what Steve was asking him to do was huge. “It’s gunna be okay, Buck.”

Bucky sighed, trusting that Steve knew what was best as he wrapped his arms around his friend to say goodbye. “No matter what happens, she can never find out the truth, Buck.”

Bucky woke himself from the memory, the small strips of sunlight bleeding through the blind, the feminine smell of the sheets reminding him he wasn’t in his own bed. He quickly pushed his body to sit up, leaning on his metal hand that had pressed into the mattress, his heart racing as he scanned the room.

He sighed sadly as the overwhelming reminder of keeping a secret from the girl who had given herself to him last night took over. The world seemed a little brighter, but his thoughts stopped him from enjoying what should’ve been a peaceful morning.

His heart sunk as he ran his flesh hand through his unkept hair, seeing no sign of the girl he’d fallen asleep holding. There was a cold space where her body should’ve been, his eyes squeezing shut as his mind whirled with emotion.

Had she left him? Had she regretted what happened between them? Had she been too embarrassed to face him? Had she gone off telling the team that he was crap in bed? Bucky knew he hadn’t lasted as long as usually did last night, but it had been decades since he was last with a girl. Decades worth of sexual frustration. And Y/N had felt so warm and tight-

“Hey sleepyhead.” A soft voice came from the ensuite doorway, knocking him out of his thoughts as his head whipped around to see Y/N.

She was glowing. Her hair was tied back in a high pony tail, her body covered in a figure hugging training suit. Bucky’s heart pounded against his chest as he breathlessly watched her make her way over to him, all of his thoughts melting away at the sight of her.

He sat up a little straighter, his mouth subtly hanging open as he became enchanted, admiring her natural beauty. “Did you sleep okay?” She asked softly, her genuine concern evident as she stood beside him. She’d felt him jolt softly in his sleep, a small frown on his face and a pout on his lips, she knew he was dreaming. She wanted to wake him while it was happening, to make sure he was okay, but instead she’d soothed him by tracing soft patterns on his chest, knowing there was no chance of him pushing her away while he slept.

“Best sleep I’ve ever had.” He breathed out shakily, his eyes soft with adoration as he watched her play with her hands nervously. He wanted to reach out and pull her down, to hold her close and never let her go. But Bucky was sensitive to her thoughts and feelings after what they’d done last night, the guilt of knowing he had a secret only making him more nervous.

She smiled bashfully at his comment, keeping her eyes away from his as she traced her fingers lightly over his thigh which was covered by the duvet. Y/N wanted to wrap her arms around Bucky and stay in bed with him all day. But she too was cautious to discover where his head was at after their night together. He seemed to be treating her like glass, she could tell he was holding back from her and she was anxious to know why.

“Why are you up so early?” Bucky tried to distract his mind from his thoughts, unable to help the shy smile from curling up on his lips as he sweetly tilted his head. His flesh hand sneakily slid across his duvet covered thighs until it came into light contact with her fingers, testing her reaction to his touch.

“Training.” She breathed out softly, still smiling as she looked up into his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat as she took in the shirtless sight of the super soldier in her bed. “Are you planning on keeping my bed warm all day?” She joked lightly, her voice soft as she tried to distract herself from his gorgeous body.

“Figured I’d wait here until you got back.” He smiled dopily, making her giggle softly as he stretched his body forward, relaxing when he saw no sense of offput on her face. He snaked his arms around her waist, sitting back against the headboard as he tugged her into his lap. “Unless you wanna keep me company.”

She squealed as he pulled her down, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he watched her get comfortable, sitting sideways on his lap. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, her hand playing with the back of his hair as she relaxed into his touch. Bucky’s heart skipped a beat, the intimacy of the moment far too sentimental to be ruined by his thoughts.

Y/N longed to lean in and kiss his soft lips, already craving more after their night together. But there was still a slight reservation in her mind, she knew it would be foolish to jump head first into this without knowing how he felt, even when her heart was so desperately encouraging her to do so.

“Bucky.” She let out in a little whine as her head rested against his bare chest, feeling like there was so much she needed to say to him, but unsure as to where to start.

Bucky’s hand rubbed up and and down her back soothingly, his chin resting on top of her head as he closed his eyes with a sigh. “I know, doll.” He tried to reassure her that he knew she had a lot on her mind. And that they had a lot to discuss. He didn’t expect anything from her, he’d waited long enough to hold her like this, and he’d wait as long as it took. It also gave him time to figure out if he was going to tell her the truth or carry on living a lie.

A sudden knock on the door caught their attention. “Y/N.” Wanda’s voice called from the other side, causing Y/N to jump off of Bucky’s lap with urgency.

“Crap.” She whispered in a panic, turning around to face Bucky who was still sitting on the bed. Her eyes widened as she realised his clothes were thrown carelessly all over the room. It was no secret the super soldier spent almost every night in Y/N’s bed, the team knew that. But they didn’t need to know how far they’d taken their relationship last night.

“Coming!” Y/N walked quickly over to her door, tightening her pony tail as she went. She opened the door just enough to slip out of the room and greet Wanda, assuring the door shut properly behind her.

“So I see you and Barnes made up?” The red head chuckled in amusement, not even needing her mind reading powers to know what was going on with her friend.

Y/N huffed out as she smiled, her back staying protectively against her bedroom door. She stared back as the Scarlett Witch studied her face, her eyes twitching into a glare.

“You know I can read minds, right?” Wanda’s eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms, looking at the guilty looking girl in front of her.

“Get out of my head, Wanda!” Y/N’s eyes widened as a pink blush covered her cheeks, unable to stop thinking about how safe she’d felt with the super soldier’s body rocking against hers.

“Honey, I didn't need magic to hear the noises that were coming out of your room last night.” She smiled smugly, watching Y/N’s face drop in panic. Y/N felt her heart rate increase as embarrassment of the whole team knowing what she and Bucky had been up to washed over her body. Her mouth dropped open in shock, speechlessly standing there as her body temperature raised in humiliation.

“Relax, I was kidding.” Wanda added with a cheeky smile, her eyes lighting up as she realised her instincts had proved her well. Y/N shot her friend a glare, a little whine of shyness left her lips as Wanda’s head leaned back in laughter.

She watched the embarrassed girl silently walk away from her down the hallway, following close behind, excited to get to the training room so she could probe Y/N about her self-admitted night with Bucky.

——

Bucky decided to make his way back to his own room a little while later, coming to the conclusion that he needed to take a shower if he wanted to look his best for when Y/N finished up training. His stomach was still fluttering with butterflies as memories of the night before flooded through his mind.

He thought about Y/N as he showered, how she held him, the way her hair smelled, the little whimpers that left her lips, the way her eyes lit up the room. He smiled to himself as he thought about how she’d grown to trust him, before that gut wrenching guilt returned again. She’d grown to trust him, and he’d been betraying her the whole time.

He ruffled his hair against his towel as he walked back into his room, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Bucky threw the towel carelessly onto the floor, running his flesh hand through his towel dried hair.

He caught his reflection in the mirror, a soft smile flicking over his lips as he noticed the marks left on his body from the way she’d clung to him so tightly. He grabbed a clean t-shirt from the folded pile of laundry on his table, the one he hadn't gotten around to putting away.

Bucky did what he usually did in the mornings, find his way into the kitchen for breakfast. But he couldn’t even walk down the hallway of the compound without his heart sinking at the voice in his head, screaming that he was a liar.

“What up, cyborg?” Sam’s voice called out as he noticed Bucky entering the kitchen. He lifted his mug up to his lips, sipping the freshly made green tea as he analysed his friend’s more anxious than usual aura.

“Hey.” Bucky replied, his face straight, but not enough of a frown to give Sam confirmation that something was bothering him. He paid no attention to Sam as he grabbed a box of cereal from the cupboard, still lost in his thoughts about Y/N.

Sam’s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what could’ve been the cause of the super soldier’s mood, scanning up and down his body as he prepared his breakfast. His eyes widened, dropping his gaze with a shocked smile as he noticed the reddened marks on Bucky’s neck and arm. “Sleep well, Sergeant?” He smirked, lifting his mug back to his lips.

“Like a baby.” Bucky mumbled dryly, his eyes fixed on watching the cereal pour into his bowl, his mind contemplating every possible outcome of telling Y/N the truth. He heard Sam chuckle, catching his attention as he walked over to grab the milk from the fridge. “Something funny, pigeon?”

“You just seem a little more relaxed today.” Sam spoke sarcastically, his signature smirk covering his face as he pressed his metal armed partner. “Looks good on you.” He continued, amusing himself as he spoke before he could stop himself. “Almost as good as those marks.”

“Shut it, bird brain.” Bucky’s head shot round to give Sam a threatening look as he slammed the fridge door shut, realising why his co-worker looked even more smug than usual.

Sam lifted his hands up in surrender after placing his mug on the kitchen worktop. “Hey, come on now.” He chuckled softly, having worked with Bucky enough to know when he’d pushed him too far. “I’m happy for you, bro. For real. You guys are great together.”

“Let’s just hope Y/N thinks so, too.” Bucky sighed softly, leaning his palms against the edge of the worktop as he tilted his head towards Sam. Bucky knew that Sam would never completely understand the weight of his words, the only person who knew as much as Bucky was Steve.

“Seriously?” Sam asked with a tone of shock, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to comprehend whether the metal armed soldier was trying to make a joke for the first time in his life. He knew Bucky was serious when he only raised his eyebrows as a response. “Are you blind, old man? That girl is devoted to you.”

Bucky sighed, knowing Sam was right, Y/N was devoted to him, she completely trusted him. He stood up straight as both boys crossed their arms against their chests. His head dropped as he tried to ignore the nagging voice in his head, he wanted to honour Steve’s last words to him, but falling for Y/N was making it increasingly difficult to stick to the promise he’d made his best friend.

“Have you told her the truth?” Sam asked, causing Bucky’s heart to sink at the other man’s words. The truth. “No matter what happens, she can never find out the truth, Buck.” The words unlocked the memory of Steve’s voice, echoing through Bucky’s mind, his eyes squeezing shut as he shook the memory away.

“What?” His head snapped towards Sam at his question, a deep crease appearing in the middle of Bucky’s forehead. His heart sunk as he once again was reminded of the secret he’d been carrying around since Steve left, the secret that he’d been keeping from Y/N.

“About how you feel,” Sam frowned in confusion at Bucky’s sudden snappiness, tilting his head slightly as he cautiously observed his friend. “Have you told Y/N how you feel?”

It didn’t ease Bucky at all to know that Sam wasn’t talking about the truth he was hiding from her. His heartbeat quickened as his nerves increased, how was he supposed to tell Y/N how he felt? How was he supposed to keep this secret from her knowing that she’d completely given him all of her trust.

A wave of guilt washed over Bucky as he pushed his bowl away from him, suddenly losing his appetite as he ran his hand through his hair stressfully. Steve had told Bucky that Y/N could never know the truth, but he’d never expected to grow this close to her, to have to lie to her every single day. Bucky couldn’t lose her, not now, she was his muse, his reason for existing.

His head started to spin as his body filled with anxiety. If he betrayed Steve and told Y/N the truth, she’d know he’d been keeping it from her, lying to her all this time. All the trust she’d slowly given him would be washed away in an instant. But could Bucky really live with himself, continuously earning more and more of her trust, knowing that he was hiding the truth from her?

“No,” Bucky breathed shakily, pressing his lips together as the battle continued on inside his mind. His eyes flickered back and forth nervously as he meditated on his thoughts, his mind completely clouded from anything else. “I haven’t told her.”

——

“So,” Wanda dragged out the word as she held up the punching pads for Y/N, who was stretching out her arms after the first round they’d just finished. “You and Bucky, huh?”

“What about me and Bucky?” Y/N asked dismissively, throwing a few practice punches at the pads in Wanda’s hands.

“Look it might’ve been a lucky guess earlier, but you don’t usually blush like that Y/N. Something must’ve happened between the two of you.” Wanda raised her eyebrows accusingly, curious to see how Y/N was feeling after her night with Bucky.

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed out as she dropped her hands in defeat, she knew it was useless lying to Wanda, she could literally read minds. “I guess something did happen.”

“And?” Wanda asked curiously as she tilted her head, tensing her arms as Y/N started throwing punches at the pads again.

“And, now I don’t know.” Y/N sighed in defeat, dropping her hands helplessly again as she lost focus of the training. “I care about him so much, Wanda. He’s been there for me every step of the way, he’s been so patient, and gentle. He’s my rock. But he’s never told me he feels for me as more than a friend.” She shrugged as her head dropped to her feet.

“Have you told him how you feel?” Wanda asked softly, aware of the sensitivity of the situation. She tilted her head as she watched Y/N lift her gaze, realising what Wanda was hinting at.

“No, but I think it’s pretty obvious.” She mumbled with a pout, dropping her head again as she tried to hide her smile.

“Well did you ever think, that just maybe, Bucky thinks he doesn’t need to tell you how he feels because his feelings are pretty obvious too?” Wanda spoke with a teasing tone, her eyebrows raising as she smiled amusingly at Y/N who was rolling her eyes with a chuckle. She knew Wanda was right, maybe she’d jumped to conclusions a little too soon. Or maybe she was scared of Bucky not reciprocating her feelings and losing him for good.

“Alright, good point Maximoff.” Y/N faked a glare at the red head as she pressed her glove covered hands on her hips. “I’ll confess my feelings to Buchanan later, but right now, it’s pads up.” She chuckled with a raise of her brow, throwing a hard punch as Wanda lifted the pads back up.

——

Y/N’s heart pounded in the cavity of her chest as she reached Bucky’s bedroom door. She’d finished training, had a shower and made sure she sprayed the perfume he always complimented. She sighed deeply, her nerves causing her hands to fiddle with the hem of her t-shirt nervously. This was it, she was really about to lay it all on the line, risk losing the person she was closest to in order to admit how she felt.

“Bucky?” Y/N’s voice dropped to a whisper as she opened the door to his room, her heart aching at the sight in front of her. He was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against his bed as his tear stained eyes stared up at the ceiling.

Bucky sniffed deeply as he tried to cover up his sadness, his glassy eyes catching hers as his head dropped forward to face her. His lips pressed together in a hard line, seeing her innocently standing in front of him only making his chest tighten as he started sobbing again.

“Hey, it’s okay.” She let out in a shaky voice as she rushed over to his side, wrapping her arms around him as she pulled his head against her chest. Only when he was pulled against her body did she notice the black and white photograph in his hand, a picture of him and Steve back in their prime. “You’re okay.”

Bucky’s heart broke as he felt her trying to soothe him, innocent to how much he’d been betraying her all along. His chest heaved as dread flooded through his body, knowing that he’d have to watch the pain in her eyes as he told her the truth. He couldn’t keep lying to her. He’d come to terms with what he’d done, willing to face the consequences in order to give her the truth she deserved.

“It’s gunna be okay, Buck.” She whispered sweetly as she placed a gentle kiss on the top of his head. She didn’t know why he was so upset, she didn’t need to know, all she wanted was to make him feel safe, the same way he did to her.

“Y/N,” He breathed out shakily as he lifted his head, his hands holding her waist as he tried to speak through his tears. His blue eyes caught hers, sadness on both of their faces as they felt each other’s pain. “I’m so sorry.”

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears as her throat sunk into her stomach, an alarming fear coursing through her body as she listened to him speak. “Is this about last night?” She whispered sadly as her head dropped, worried that he regretted what had happened between them. That had to be it, what else could it be? “Look, we can just forget it ever-“

“Doll, no.” Bucky cut her off with a shake of his head, his eyes softening as he cupped her cheek in his hand, lifting his body to come face to face with her, dropping the photo he’d previously been holding in the process. “I promise, it’s not about last night.” He reassured her as his thumb rubbed soothingly over her tear stained skin.

She sighed as she waited for an elaboration from him, her head filled with worst case scenarios as he clenched his jaw. Bucky swallowed nervously, a sharp pain in his chest as the room filled with silence. He was battling internally, his words catching in his throat, trying to spit them out was even harder than he’d imagined.

“You’re scaring me, Bucky.” She admitted sadly, pulling her hands away from him as her head turned away from his hand. Her eyes closed as she tried to contain her tears, a flame of abandonment still in her tummy from when Steve left. Was Bucky about to do the same? Even after his promises.

He couldn’t object to her rejecting his touch, biting the inside of his lip as the war continued inside his mind. Steve was gone, he’d never know that he told Y/N the truth. But here she was, her heart breaking in front of him as she pushed him away, something he never wanted to happen. Something that might happen if she knew the truth.

Bucky’s heart stopped when he heard her sob, the noise she let out full of pain as her hands came up to cover her face. She’d been through so much heartache, her body tired and weak from all the emotion. Now, she dreaded the thought of having to go through it all again. “Just say it.” She squeaked out, his silence only prolonging the inevitable.

Bucky flinched at her words, his eyes squeezing shut tightly as he tried to wake up from the nightmare. His head spun as his mind filled with the sounds of her sobbing, his chest heaving with anxiety. He didn’t know how she was going to react, he didn’t want to lose her. What if she blamed him for everything? What if she walked out of his life for good?

Y/N’s eyes stung as her cheeks reddened with tears, wishing he’d just put her out of her misery. Was he leaving her? Had she been too needy? Did he regret what happened between them last night? Had he done it all out of sympathy? Just to make her crying stop. Had he found someone else? Had he been faking it all along? Was he sick of her sadness? Was he going to push her away? Did he not want her around anymore?

“God, Bucky, just say it.” She cried weakly, pulling her head from her hands as she looked over at him. His head hung in shame as he shook his head, he wasn’t ready to lose her. That was the only possible outcome once she knew the truth, once she knew what he’d been keeping from her this whole time. “Please.” She bit down on her bottom lip as it trembled, wanting the closure of a goodbye that she never got with Steve.

Bucky’s chest caved in as he heard her beg, swallowing the lump in his throat as he felt time stop, as if the universe stood still as the words left his lips. “Steve didn’t leave you to be with Peggy, Y/N.”

Y/N felt a flood of pain rush through her veins as she heard him mentioned Steve. She sighed as the air got caught in her throat, closing her watery eyes as she shook her head. His words were the last thing she’d ever expected to hear.

Bucky sniffed, his eyes red from crying as he tried to reach for her hand, looking over at her heartbroken face. Y/N slid her hand away from his hesitantly, certain that there was more he had to say.

“Why am I only finding out about this now?” She frowned in an attempt to stop the tears as her eyes saddened, feeling vulnerable and betrayed by the one person she’d learned to trust. Did he purposely wait until she finally felt a slither of happiness before he broke her heart? Was he doing it for his own satisfaction? Had he been mocking her this whole time, knowing that she hadn’t known the truth?

“I thought I was protecting you, Steve made me promise not to ever let you find out. But I can’t lie to you anymore Y/N, it’s killing me inside. I can’t live with myself knowing that I’m keeping this secret from the girl I love.” His voice broke as the words came out of his mouth without hesitation, finally admitting how he really felt about her. Bucky watched her face flinch with pain as her mind flooded with emotion, millions of thoughts whizzing through her head as she tried to comprehend his words.

“Then tell me the truth, Buck.” Y/N’s chest tightened as she felt all the emotion of losing Steve washing over her like a wave. The anxiety of abandonment, the loneliness, the heartache, it all clouded her mind enough for her to ignore Bucky’s confession. Her bottom lip trembled as she hugged her knee to her chest, tears dripping down onto the floor as she tried to make the pain subside.

“Steve left because it was the only way to keep you safe.” Bucky breathed out shakily, his own eyes pooling with tears as he watched Y/N helplessly break down beside him. He knew she wouldn’t understand, she was never meant to understand, she was never meant to know. He sighed sadly, there was no going back now, he’d have to tell her everything. “Y/N, I need you to look at me.”

His heart sunk as she helplessly did as he instructed, fighting through her pain to get to the truth, still so many questions left unanswered. Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart raced, coming to her senses enough to know that Bucky wouldn’t lie to her about something like this.

“Stay with me.” He whispered softly, trying to get her to focus on him as silent tears rolled down his cheeks, his gut full of dread. Her lips pressed into a pout as she fearfully looked up at him, looking like a helpless animal caught in a trap.

Her eyes fixed onto his deep blue ones, her heart beginning to steady itself as she listened to his voice, even in her worst moments, Bucky somehow managed to calm her. She felt his flesh hand slide into hers, not pulling away this time as she watched him blink nervously.

“I need you to tell me your earliest memory.” Bucky instructed as his eyebrows arched in sympathy, terrified of the outcome to the situation he was now responsible for. He knew exactly why Steve had told him not to tell her, and if he were still here, he’d kick his ass for letting her find out. But Steve wasn’t here. And Bucky knew she’d never forgive him if he didn’t tell her now. “Think, Y/N.”

Y/N wracked her brain hard, her eyebrows furrowing into a frown as she flickered between Bucky’s eyes. He saw the horror flash in her eyes as she let out a soft whimper, her mouth slightly parted as she shook her head. His heart sunk, knowing he’d just triggered an alarm in her brain that would cause her a dangerous level of trauma and stress.

“It- It’s me and you. In Wakanda.” Her eyes welled with tears, her body flooding with fear as she continued to glance between each of his eyes rapidly. “The day I met Steve - he came to check up on you after your surgery-” Y/N suddenly went into panic, her body shutting down as she gripped onto his hand tightly, shaking her head in disbelief as she closed her eyes. “Bucky I’m scared.” She sobbed desperately, her body trembling as her brain tried to comprehend it all.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” He soothed her softly, quickly scrambling closer, using his metal arm to catch her body. He pulled her against his chest, his eyes squeezing shut as his heart pounded against his chest, terrified of her reaction. “How did you get to Wakanda, Y/N?” He whispered with trepidation, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand as her head collapsed against his chest.

“I don’t know,” She sobbed desperately, letting her free hand cling to the material of his t-shirt as her head began to ache, burning up from how hard she was thinking. “I can’t remember anything before that day.” She choked slightly as her breathing became erratic, realising that all she’d ever known was this. How could that be her earliest memory, as if her life only started a few years ago, it was impossible. But where were her memories? “Bucky, why can’t I remember?”

His jaw clenched tightly, hating that he had to be the one to tell her, to put her through the pain of the truth that Steve had fought to protect her from. He sniffed softly, his chin resting on the top of her head as he held her close, trying to comfort her as much as he could. “We were broken when Steve found us, Y/N.” He stopped hesitantly, there was no easy way to say any of this. He took a deep breath, feeling her body jolting as she cried softly against his chest. “We were Hydra’s most lethal killing machines. Their most successful experiments.”

Bucky felt her head shaking in denial against him, her sobs becoming louder as she tried to make sense of what he was telling her. Her chest heaved as she breathed through her uncontrollable crying, gripping tightly to the soldier who’s tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“I had the metal arm, but I guess they’d improved since the 40’s. Maybe they realised giving their assassins a metal arm wasn’t very inconspicuous.” He breathed out shakily, her head moving with the heavy movements of his chest as he pulled her tighter against him, as if it would ease her pain. “Your body was left untouched. Not a single trace of experimentation, apart from a tiny little microchip they planted in your brain.”

“No.” Y/N breathed out as her body went into panic, her tears drenching through Bucky’s t-shirt as she felt her body growing weak.

“But they fixed us in Wakanda.” He whispered softly in hope it would make her feel better somehow. He lifted his hand to the back of her head, cradling it in his hand as he rubbed his thumb along her skull in an attempt to soothe her. “They didn’t have to remove your chip like they did my arm, Shuri had her team wipe the software that Hydra had programmed onto it. They rewrote the code so that Hydra wouldn’t be able to gain control of you.”

Y/N’s sobs continued as she listened to Bucky, her eyes squeezing shut as she learnt about her broken past.“Part of the process to re-write the code meant wiping any memory that may have triggered Hydra’s manipulation. We didn’t know much about you, where you came from, how long you’d been under Hydra’s control. So the most viable course of action was to wipe everything, it was the best chance they had of knowing you’d be safe.”

A dull ache wash over Y/N’s body, feeling violated and betrayed. Her head burned as she tried to come to terms with never knowing who she really was, a billion questions and thoughts racing through her mind. She was physically and mentally tired, too tired to process all of this, little whimpers leaving her lips as she listened to him.

“Your earliest memory of Steve coming to visit me, he was there to visit both of us, Y/N. You two met like it was the first time, and for you, it was. But you’d actually kicked his ass once before when he first found us.” Bucky let out a slight chuckle through his sobs at the memory of his best friend. It felt like a lifetime ago he watched her take out Cap’s legs and grab him in a choke hold. Nothing beat the look on Steve’s face when he realised just how powerful she was. “You not recognising Steve was when they knew for sure that the procedure had been a success.”

Bucky rubbed his thumb over her temple, feeling her trembling against him as she became overwhelmed with the realisation. Her whole world had crumbled around her, she sat there with Bucky in the rubble of her life, wondering if it was even worth trying to pick up the pieces. “You didn’t remember me either, or anything about us. It hurt to know you’d never remember all the memories we shared, all the things we did together. We were quite the team. But at least I knew we were safe and that was the most important thing.” He thought back to before Wakanda, all the missions they’d been on together, all the good times they’d shared, even then, it had always been just the two of them. All they had was each other. “You and Steve fell in love the day he came to bring us back from Wakanda, but I think the punk had a crush on you from back when you were kicking his ass in the street.” He chuckled to himself, hoping his words were calming her as much as they were himself.

But he was wrong. They weren’t. Her thoughts continued to churn through her mind, the little pieces of past making her head ache as she tried to put them together. She clung tightly to Bucky’s chest, digging her nails into his flesh as she pressed her head against him. “If I was fixed, why did he have to keep me safe?” She whispered shakily, her reddened eyes stinging from the saltiness of her tears. “Why did he have to leave?”

Bucky’s face dropped in agony, the reason behind Steve leaving now the only secret he was hiding from her, well, almost the only secret. It wasn’t as simple as telling her about her unknown past, he had to try and justify Steve’s decision to the person who loved him the most, who’s whole life had revolved around Steve. “These people, worse than Hydra found out about us, they kept threatening Steve, tormenting him about how they were going to take you away from him, turn you back into a kille- an assassin.” Bucky stopped himself after thinking about his words, having been through the troubling process of coming to terms with his past himself. “He’d just gone through losing Tony and Nat, his mind was a mess. He couldn’t bare the thought of losing you, too.”

Y/N breathed out shakily as her heart felt like giving up, she’d been through too many sleepless nights wondering why Steve never said goodbye, now she was finally getting her answer, the truth hurt so much more. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, helplessly sobbing as she leaned the truth behind Steve’s departure.

“He knew they wouldn’t stop until they got what they wanted. He told me the risk was too high, their threats weren’t as empty as he’d originally hoped. They told him he had to sacrifice himself, to never return if he wanted you to be safe.” He continued as he felt her gasping for air between cries, his eyes closing weakly as he felt her pain. “Steve realised there was only one way to make sure they kept their end of the bargain, to make sure they never came near you again. He went back to destroy the weapon that Hydra had planted in your brain.” Bucky sniffed as his fingers massaged the back of her head, dropping his head to press his cheek against hers. “He had to make sure the thing that controlled you was never invented, so that they would have no reason to come after you.”

Y/N fell still, her head spinning, overwhelmed by the amount of information she was being told. It all become too much for her to handle, she didn’t want to listen anymore, she’d heard enough. She shook her head, refusing to know anymore than she already did.

“His plan was to find you once he’d completed his mission. To earn your love and make a life for the both of you, one where you’d both be safe.” Bucky’s words made Y/N wince in agony, somewhere out there, Steve was with her, they had a life together, one that she would never know.

Her tears fell silently down her face as she hung her head, a sudden shell of hardness covering her body as she swallowed the hard lump in her throat. “You knew this all along.” She whispered out sadly, blinking rapidly in an attempt to control her tears as her hands dropped from his body. It wasn't a question, she knew it was true.

Bucky’s heart sunk as a wave of anxiety flooded his body, his chest heaving as his eyebrows arched softly. “I was just doing what Steve-”

“You listened to me blame him.” Her voice shook in a mixture of pain and sadness, the world around her darkening. “You spent countless sleepless nights with me, watching me tormented at not knowing why Steve had left.” She pressed her lips together in a hard line, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. “And all the time, you knew.”

“Y/N,” Bucky pleaded sadly in defeat, listening to the weakness of her voice. He’d never meant to hurt her, he never wanted to cause her any pain. “I’m so sorry.”He cried as his flesh hand came up to wipe away his tears. “Please, you have to believe me.” He whispered softly, desperately reaching his hand out towards her, flinching slightly when he felt her push him away.

“I can’t do this.” She shook her head, panic setting in as her heart thudded repeatedly against her chest. He was hurting just as much as she was. His eyes were flooded with tears, his bottom lip trembling as he avoided her gaze. Y/N felt the darkness of the room engulf her as she stood up, her head spinning as shallow breaths left her lips. She sighed deeply as she turned her head towards the door.

Bucky sobbed as he watched her leave him alone in the dark. His heart ached, knowing that he’d broken her heart and there was nothing he could do to fix it. His head dropped back in agony as he heard the door close behind her, wondering if he’d ever get to make it up to her. Wondering if he even deserved the chance.

Y/N sobbed weakly as her head dropped in defeat, her heart sinking as she found her way back to her empty room. She’d finally got the confession from Bucky that she wanted, but now it caused her more pain than joy. Maybe she wasn’t worthy of happiness. Maybe all this pain was karma for the pain she’d caused others under Hydra’s control.

Bucky’s body weakened, feeling sick to his stomach as he sat there alone in the darkness. Everything she’d said was true, he couldn’t argue, he knew how much he’d kept from her. He thought he was doing what was best, but all he’d been doing was delaying her pain.

——

It was the longest, loneliest night either of them had persevered through. Neither of them slept, both haunted by the night before. Y/N longed to feel Bucky’s warmth against her, holding her close and keeping her safe. She couldn’t blame him for trying to honour Steve’s wish, she’d realised that around 3am.

Bucky was tortured by her absence, wondering if she was okay, if she was hurting as much as he was. He didn't regret his decision to tell her the truth, the same way he was sure Steve wouldn’t be regretting his decision to leave in order to save her. Now more than ever, he understood Steve’s decision. Both of them had caused her pain, but they’d done it out of love.

Despite his best efforts to avoid any sort of human contact, Bucky was met by Wanda in the kitchen. He sighed deeply, keeping his head down as he silently poured himself a cup of water.

“Bucky,” Wanda spoke softly, walking over to stand opposite him. He glanced up at her quickly, his eyes still red from all of the crying he’d done, hoping she’d get the message. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Sorry, Wanda, now’s not really a good time.” Bucky mumbled his response, hoping that the Scarlett Witch would accept his wish and let him be. The pain from last night was still fresh, and no one apart from Bucky and Y/N had known what had unfolded.

“It’s about Y/N.” Wanda added quickly, her eyebrows arching slightly, hoping he’d take the time to listen. Her fingers tapped on the edge of the worktop, nervously trying to gauge the reaction of the obviously miserable super soldier.

“What about Y/N?” Bucky asked anxiously, a million thoughts flying through his head. His chest tightened as he glared at Wanda with a deep frown, anticipating what she had to say.

“Remember when you caught me casting a spell to let her see Steve?” Wanda started softly, her heart racing as she observed his reaction carefully. Bucky’s head nodded in confirmation, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to continue. “Y/N saw you while she was under the spell.” She elaborated, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to catch on.

“So?” Bucky frowned with a shrug of his shoulders.

“So,” Wanda dragged out the word slightly. “It’s a lovers spell, Bucky. Whilst under it, you are only able to see people who you’re in love with.” She explained with a soft smile, watching Bucky’s eyes widen slightly as he finally began to understand. “Y/N is in love with you.”

“I have to go.” Bucky mumbled quickly, carelessly slamming the glass of water down on the kitchen worktop as he rushed out of the room. He didn’t care that she’d probably not want to talk to him after last night, he didn’t care that she’d probably yell at him to go away. All he cared about was seeing her.

He turned the handle on the door, bursting into Y/N’s bedroom without knocking as his chest heaved. “Bucky!” Y/N squealed in shock, her eyes widening as she turned to face the super soldier from where she stood at the end of her bed.

“Do you love me?” He panted out breathlessly, anxious to know if it was true, if she did in fact feel the same way as he did. He didn’t care that she probably never wanted to see him again after last night, Wanda’s words echoing through his mind, taking control of his senses.

“Bucky, you can’t just barge in here-“

“Do you love me?” He yelled desperately, walking towards her as Y/N’s face softened in shock. She watched his eyes glisten with hope, her heart racing as he stood in front of her.

He looked down at the girl in front of him, the girl he’d held close every night, the girl he’d loved silently for far too long. Every treasured moment came crashing through his mind, his chest heaving as he longed to hear her confirm what Wanda had told him.

Y/N breathed out shakily as she looked up at him, the man who’d been there for her through every tear, every sleepless night. The man she’d learned to trust, the man who made her feel safe, the man who felt like home to her. The man who she couldn’t imagine her life without. Her heart thudded against her chest as butterflies filled her tummy, an overwhelming amount of emotion coursing through her body, she’d never felt more vulnerable. “Yes.” She whispered softly, everything around them fading away as they kept their eyes on each other. “Bucky, I love you.”

He pressed his lips softly against hers, feeling her immediately respond as she kissed him back. They sighed into the kiss, a huge weight lifting off of them both as they finally accepted their love for one another.

And in that moment, they finally believed that everything was going to be okay.

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

@codyl-angdon

@marveljunkieee

@melchills-j​

@permanent-lines​

[jamiedc-they-them]

One way ticket (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: An argument with your parents sends you to your best friend, and on a journey of self discovery. 

The door to your house swung open, and a tired you walked in through it. You closed the door, your back resting against it as you closed your eyes. Today had been a hard day, lots of studying and deadlines.

However, part of the weariness now came from being at home. It was something you weren’t exactly thrilled by.

 “Evening, dear.” Your mother called from the kitchen, your step father barely paying you any attention.

 “Hi, mum.” You greeted in return. She gave you a smile. If it was your old dad, he would’ve said something.

 But, they just had to fall out, didn’t they.

 In your room, filled with posters of films and large posters of book covers and your favourite characters, you sunk into your bed, back hitting it first and you exhaled. For once, a moment of peace.

 Your phone vibrated, and your reached for it. You saw the caller ID, and smiled.

 “Dickhead.” She greeted in her usual manner. You could practically hear the smile on the other end.

 “Maeve.” You weren’t as creative with the nicknames, but she didn’t care.

 “Tough day?” She asked, there was some softer part to her tone there.

 You let out a breath, “In a way.” Was your cryptic answer.

 It wasn’t, however, cryptic to her, “Parents again?”

 “They haven’t done anything yet.”

 “That ‘yet’ is the concerning part, Y/N,” As she spoke, you heard the door to her home unlock. She was home too, “If they’re giving you any trouble, you call me, ok? Spend the night at mine. Nothing wrong with taking a break. Or just walking away” She assured you as you heard her keys hit the counter.

 You always were a bit envious of your best friend, how carefree she was. If only your father didn’t cheat, maybe the month long that turned into a forever long break wouldn’t have happened.

 “Yeah, he was a bit of a prick for doing that, wasn’t he?” Maeve’s voice was softer still when she spoke. Seemed you said some parts of that out loud.

 You paused, hearing call up to you from downstairs, “That’s dinner. I’ll call you later.”

 There was silence, she must’ve nodded and then remembered she was on the phone, “Yeah, sure thing.”

“So, son, how was school?” Internally, you cringed at the misgender, but didn’t correct your father. More importantly, neither did your mother. They had made their voices known on that want of yours, to go by something else, something they called a “none entity.”

 “Good, yeah, thanks.” You answered, going back to your food.

 “That it?” He asked, making you look up at him.

 “Is what it?” It wasn’t meant to be a challenge.

 He took it as one, though, staring you down as he spoke, “Was school just, ‘good’?”

 “Yeah, I mean nothing really happened, mum can attest to that.” You answered, trying to be careful with your word choice. Your father’s choice of words explaining his action was what caused the break.

 He looked to his wife, and she nodded, confirming it.

 “You been hanging around with your friends?” You nodded, “They still…preferring to go by the plurals?” Again, you nodded, “Youth of today, doomed, I swear.”

 “Because you don’t like a pronouns?” Ok, you shouldn’t have said that, and you immediately regretted it right after as there was a pause. It was sharp, and it was a direct pause.

 Your father stopped eating and looked to you, “Excuse me?”

 “I’m sorry, I –” You started to apologise. But you knew you had crossed a line.

 You were in your room the next moment, having ran up there yourself to escape your fathers growing wrath.

 You found your phone, dialling the number you needed instantly, “Maeve – I… I don’t –“

 “What’s happened? Are you safe?” Was the first thing your friend asked, concern leaking through the phone.

 “I don’t – I…I think Mum’s calming him down. But--”

 “You know the bridge?” You nodded, and Maeve seemed to know that you had nodded, “Meet me there.”

 “What?”

 “Meet me there.”

 “Can…can I stay the night?” You asked. You heard her door open and close, and her breathing became more laboured as she walked.

 “Of course you can.” She answered.

 “Ok, bridge, right?”

 “Bridge.”

“Ok, see you there.”

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

You had nothing with you, just yourself. You didn’t even have a jacket. You were still in your school clothes, but the night was cold.

 Maeve was there, just as she said she would be. When you saw her, she was smoking, but eyes were scanning the water.

 She heard you approaching, and turned to you. Her eyes softened at your figure. You probably looked lonely, and you looked anxious. You were.

 She approached you when you stopped, bringing your timid figure into a hug. She didn’t say anything, she just held you.

 You appreciated it massively, how she didn’t say anything, just hugged you.

 It lasted a few seconds, but when she released you, you were teary eyed. You were scared, but you weren’t alone. You were scared still.

 She gave you a sympathetic smile, “Let’s go home.” She said, arm looping into yours and bringing you with her to her home. Yours was behind you, not too far away.

 Unlocking the door, she opened it up and ushered you in, closing the door behind the door and flicking on the light and taking off her jacket.

 “Do you want something to eat?” She seemed to just know without ever being told the circumstance you were in. It made you feel for your friend, wondering how she was able to just know what you had gone through.

 She grabbed a spare plate, filling it with the Chinese food she had picked up on the way home.

Together, you both sat on the couch, eating in silence. She didn’t seem to mind, but she did curl up, feet touching your own.

 “Thank you,” She looked to you at your words, “For this, I mean. Thank you.”

 She smiled, “Anytime. I know what it’s like to have shitty parents.” She said, despite the attempt of humour, you detected the sadness that was there.

 “Sorry.”

 She shook her head, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She told you. You both went back to eating, but she did grab a blanket for you both.

 When you were done, you just started venting. You didn’t even mean to, it just all started to spill out. The whole time, she did not speak, she only let you talk and vent and rage about it all.

 There were tears, your own tears as you spoke. Maeve passed you a new tissue every so often as you spoke.

 “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. You can stay here as long as you –”

 “It’ll just be for tonight, I’ll go back tomorrow.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but nodded in granting and respecting your wish.

 “You can have the bed.” She said, and your eyes met her’s in an instant.

 “No, Maeve –”

 She held up a hand to stop you, “I’m not arguing about this, Y/N. I don’t mind you going back tomorrow, but if you’re staying, then you take the bed.”

 “…Why?”

 She rolled her eyes, “Because I know how to be comfy on that sofa. Besides, can’t have my best mate here and have them be uncomfortable, can I?”

 You resigned yourself to your fate, going to the bedroom, but not before you both shared another hug.

 As you went to bed, you saw a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up, it was a form to be a guardian, but the name was blank as to who it was. So, you just left it.

 You woke up in your school clothes, you hadn’t exactly had time to change. But ‘school clothes’ you were wearing a smarter shirt than usual and some jeans.

 Maeve entered your room, toothbrush in her mouth, “Morning.” She said, even if it wasn’t as clear as it could’ve been, what with the toothbrush and all.

 “Morning.” You said in return, getting out of bed.

 She spat into the sink, before leaning against the doorway, “You can borrow some of my clothes. I’ll make sure they aren’t too embarrassing.” She said, lightly, before going to the drawer to find just that.

 “Might as well go out, right?” You joked, referencing to the opinion your parents had on your identity.

 She laughed, “If you’re up for it.”

 “Mum will say what she says, but I can’t let her define me, try and make her understand it.”

 Maeve just nodded, but there was some conflict there.

 Your mother worked at school, she was a science teacher – it was where her view on your identity came from.

 You had her today on the schedule, you liked science enough, but you knew this would be an…awkward session.

 Maeve had walked with you. She had called Aimee and told her she would be with you today, and the other woman understood, giving you her love. So, arm looped in yours, Maeve and you entered school.

 “First period, you ready?” She asked, putting her head on your shoulder for a moment as you continued going down the hallway to the lesson. You ignored the looks from people in the hallway. Otis had his mother to contend with, now so did you.

 “As I can be.” You answered honestly. As you got the doorway, she gave you a wink, before she went in first. After a few moments, so did you.

 It was to make your mother think anything other than the fact that you had gone to Maeve for help.

 As you went to your seat, you felt your mother’s eyes on you the whole way. When she went back to teaching, you saw that she had a slight darkness under her eyes. She had stayed up. A feeling stirred in your stomach. However, you went back to looking at the lesson.

 You did pay attention, just not all the time. Sometimes, you’d find yourself writing notes or just looking them up yourself in the textbook, just to avoid looking at your mothers gaze.

 However, as the bell rang, you were one of the last to leave. The other, was Maeve. She sat on the desk, legs swinging as she looked between yourself and your mum.

 She never hated your mum, or your dad. They had their flaws, but it was mainly their apathy to who you wanted to be that pissed her off.

 Still, she didn’t voice it, which was something that was unusual for her.

 Your mother looked up at you as you put a book on her desk. You looked nervous, eyes darting a little, but you managed to get the words out, even throwing a bit of humour in with your tone.

 “Parlay?” Behind you, once she approached, Maeve smiled a bit, before it turned a little bit – just a little – more threatening to your mother, a warning.

 As stated before, she didn’t hate your mum, just hated the discomfort it caused you.

 “He’s not angry, not now anyway. If anything, a little impressed.” Your mother said. The little amount of praise, despite it being so little, stirred something within you.

 Maeve saw how your shoulders relaxed a little. How you seemed to almost not expect it, but be deeply appreciative of it at the same time. She made a mental note, and her smile became more sympathetic.

 “Talk about it at dinner?” You asked, your mother nodded.

 “Talk about it at dinner,” She said, standing up and packing her own bag to leave for the teachers lounge, “And I can finally meet this girlfriend of yours.” You sighed, seemed you wouldn’t be able to fully escape their ideas yet.

 As she left, you turned to Maeve with your eyebrows up, but a tired expression on your face.

 “Dinner?” She asked, light smile on your face.

You laughed, putting your hands to your face before moving them around and interlocking them at the back of your head, you smiled at your friend, “Dinner.” You confirmed.

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

 You had gone back to Maeve’s place without her. She had something to do with the clinic, which you understood and so she gave you her keys, telling you only to leave the door unlocked for her.

 So, it was just you, alone in the home. You actually looked around it now, seeing the little things, like how the cups were stacked neatly, how the plates had been washed. She took care of this place, she cared for it. It was a shithole, but she stayed and looked after it.

 If she stayed and managed to make this place work, maybe you had hope with your parents just yet.

 Your thoughts went back to them, your parents. Maybe you had been too hasty, maybe they’d just accept you back with open arms. Maybe, for once, they’d be sorry. You had stood up to your father, that was new.

 Maybe you’d still have a place to go.

 The door opened, and Maeve entered, she tossed her bag onto the sofa and took her jacket off, giving you a smile as she saw you getting a drink.

 “Sorry I took so long, Otis held me up.” She said, gently moving you aside and doing the same – getting a drink – for herself.

 “It’s alright, he’s a good guy but can…I don’t know.” You conceded, not really knowing how to explain your other friend – a mutual one of yours.

 “Much?” She filled, you nodded.

 “Please don’t make a scene tonight.” Your friend took a sip of her water and looked at you, almost a little taken aback by your words. You further explained, “I need to go well, Maeve, please. I can’t have it turn into another row. I can’t have another uncomfortable breakfast, again.”

 Maeve stopped you, “Wait, ‘again’? Your staying?!” She couldn’t stop the surprise that one.

 You cocked your head, “Course I am. Why wouldn’t I? They’re my parents –”

 “Not good ones.” She pointed out.

 “They aren’t the worst.”

 Again, she couldn’t help herself, “They aren’t exactly the best either,” She sighed, putting her glass down and approaching you, putting her hands on your shoulders, before using one hand to cup your chin and turn it up to face her, “You are so much better without them, Y/N. They don’t accept you for who you are. I’m sure in some way they love you, just like my mum did. But, you know what I did.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement, you did know what she had done.

 Part of you resented her for having the strength to do it. Still, you insisted, “I can’t just drop them like that, Maeve…How would I fund school? What about rent and –”

 “We’d figure it out –”

 Now it was you stopping her, or more so talking over her at her first word, “’We’?”

 She creased her eyebrows, “Yeah, ‘we’, you think I’d just leave you if you did it?” She almost seemed hurt at the accusation she was now accusing you of.

 “I just – I don’t think I can do that. I don’t even know how.” You confessed, voice sounding tired.

 “I do, I know how,” Maeve assured as she nodded a few times, “It’s called ‘emancipation’.”

 As she went to explain, the alarm on your phone went off. Looking at it, you saw it was a half hour reminder to get to your house for the dinner.

 “Just…please don’t mess this up for me…please.” Was all you asked of your best friend.

 Her eyes softened at the pain, the loss, and the fear that laid within them. She had more on her mind, more she wanted to say, you could see that clear as day. Still, she nodded, and said nothing.

 You stood outside your door with your best friend by your side. You had walked together in silence, both trying to prepare as much as you could for this event. The main thing you had said to the other being that you looked nice. You both did, you in your normal clothes, Maeve in a dress. She had even redone her makeup.

 You saw that hurt in her eye hadn’t fully left, but there was an almost apathetic look now. She was here to help you, not to appease your parents who she had plenty to say on.

 You knocked, the door opening and your father stood there in smart, but causal wear. Seemed he’d put some effort into it too. Out of the pair, your mother had the better job, but it didn’t matter. Job meant nothing to how you were as a person.

 He didn’t say anything, he only moved aside as a silent beckoning to enter. You both did so.

 Maeve took time to look around. She didn’t comment, just looked around. She then met your eyes, a bit of life returning and you saw them soften a little, she raised her eyebrows; “Fancy.” Her gaze seemed to communicate to you.

 You had no idea if she meant it or not, so you just smiled a thin one, trying not to show your nerves. Maeve, however, was good at reading people. So, as you went to the table in silence, she held your hand to provide some comfort.

 However, as you both sat at the table, you saw your mother had seen the hand holding in a different light. Of course she did.

 You saw her have a look on her eyes, almost a proud look. You felt Maeve tighten her hold on your hand, trying to supress a sense of frustration. It did pain you a little, but you tried not to show it. This was redemption with your parents, not a further regress.

 Still, she didn’t say anything, she remembered the promise she made. And Maeve Wiley was not one to break a promise…to the best of her ability.

 “So, you’re the mysterious Maeve we’ve been hearing all about?” Your mother asked as your father put food on the table. No, the irony was not lost on you.

 Maeve looked to you, a silent dialogue going between you two. However, your communication was clear, “I’ve never mention you to them.” She knew it wasn’t in a mean way, just wanted confirmation.

 She nodded, “Yeah, that’s me.” She said, bullshit smile on her face. The smile, however, eased your mother – hell, even doing the same to your father, for once he smiled and it was genuine.

 You envied it. But, as you put your hands on the table, Maeve held one. To your parents, it meant the opposite to what it actually was, she gave your hand a squeeze.

 “One step closer to being a man, my lad.” Your mother hadn’t been lying when she told you your father was proud. Christ.

 You looked at your father with the same distaste you always had for him, but now it was less easy to mask.

 So far, no food had been touched by anyone other than your mother.

 “See? Even got the look.” He seemed to celebrate your hatred. Not revel in it, just celebrate it.

 “’The look’?” You parroted back to him in a questioning manner.

 “Yeah, every man needs –”

 “Y/N doesn’t identify as a man, though.” Maeve spoke up. You moved your hands down to your side, keeping your eyes only on your best friend. You shook your head, begging her not to.

 She, however, only kept her eyes on your father, a challenging and daring look in her eyes, “Y/N is a they –”

 “Not this bollocks again. He got you doing it now, too.” Your father’s tone was filled with frustration.

 “Yeah, I guess they have, haven’t they?” Her eyes squinted a bit, she seemed to be daring for him to try it.

 “Let me guess, you two haven’t shagged either?” He sounded tired. Done.

 Wasn’t quite the bite Maeve was looking for, but she still took it, “Y/N doesn’t feel that way about anyone. They don’t won’t a partner in that way, and that’s just fine.”

 “It’s sick,” Your father looked to your mother, “Isn’t that right, honey?”

 She seemed to just be enjoying her food, but when your father asked, she hesitated. There were a few look in her eyes, fear wasn’t one of them, but shame was as she spoke, “Yes.” Her voice was monotone.

 “I think it’s time you leave.” Your father said, seemingly taking back control.

 However, Maeve stayed put, “Not without Y/N.” She was firm in that.

 “Get out, now, or I will call the police,” He then looked to you, “Is that why you brought her, to get it all out in the open these beliefs you have about yourself?” His tone was cold.

 “N-No.” You managed to stutter out.

 “If you lay one hand on them –”

 “Him, and I won’t. I’d never hit my boy, I just need it to get through to him that he can’t think the way he does.”

 “So, verbal then?”

 “If you want to be a snowflake, then yes, verbal.” He seemingly had no problem with saying that.

 So, Maeve stood up, and she gave you a pat on the shoulder and an apologetic look. Then, with a click of the door, she was gone.

 Silence permeated the room, and now your father had his hands on the table and his chin resting on them.

 “I don’t want you seeing her again.” Your father said, “Go to your room, I’ll bring some food up in a few minutes.”

 You didn’t say anything, only getting up from the table, “Phone.” Your father said. You brought the item out of your pocket and gave it to him, before going upstairs.

 You laid on your bed, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh. Could’ve gone better, but it definitely could’ve gone worse.

 You heard a knock at your door. You gave yourself a moment to try to get rid of the tears that were pooling in your eyes and told whoever was there to come in.

 It was your father, who was carrying a tray with a plate of food on. He placed it on the floor, before he stood at the door.

 “You know I just want what’s best for you, right?”

 It was bollocks, but you nodded, “It’s just…there are two ways of being. I’d rather you be Trans than be…this.” Harsh, but it was more honest, more controlled.

 Again, you nodded. You hated the words he said, but you nodded.

 “We’ll talk again, tomorrow.” He then left, closing the door more softly this time.

 You picked up the tray, apathetic look on your face as you ate the food. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest.

 This was your life, one filled with pain, but two parents that gave you a roof over your head.

 You heard a knock at your window, turning, you saw the last person you expected to see. It was the face of someone else who gave you a roof over your head.

 She waved to you. You put your empty plate down and looked to the door. He never did say you couldn’t leave. Then again, he also said you couldn’t be how you felt inside. So, you know.

 Quietly, you made your way to the window, opening it with her help. Neither of you spoke, but she didn’t need to, she only offered you a hand – and a silent question along with it.

 You looked to the door one more time, one that – outside of it – held only misery.

 You took the hand that was offered.

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

She held your hand the whole way home, leading the way. However, this time you worked with – an admittedly – shaky confidence.

 She opened the door, going to her bed room to get her dress off. You, meanwhile, got a glass of water and sat down. You knew your dad still had your phone, but that was ok.

 Maeve re-entered, now with pyjamas on, “What’s on your mind?” She asked, seeing a look on your face that told her you had a plan.

 “Mum’s gonna be at school tomorrow. But, I’ve made my choice, I’m done with them. We just need to do that…what’d you call it, ‘emancipation?’”

 Maeve nodded, “Ok, we’ll need some papers for the court. Plus, I have this,” At ‘this’ Maeve held up her phone and hit ‘play’ it was a recording of the meal.

 It was proof.

 “Ok, you got my back?” You asked.

 “Always.” She swore.

 So, off to school you went to execute your plan. You walked to the school grounds, talking and – for once, in your case – being happy and having a sense of agency.

 You had made your request to the court and made some calls to friends, now you just had to hope your parents wouldn’t try and stop it.

 “Otis and everyone else agreed? Just like that?” You asked, only having spoken to Eric while Maeve called everyone else.

 “A noble cause worth fighting for.” She said with a smile, parroting your own one.

 You believed those words, and you believed in your own course too, you believed in your own freedom.

 Going to science, you saw your other friends now sat there, awaiting you. It started out as normal, just with you in a more positive beat.

 That was, until the bell rang and your mother asked you to stay behind. Without having to ask, your other friend stayed as well.

 “So, you’re applying for emancipation?” She asked, tone flat.

 “That’s right.” You answered, sure of your choice.

 “You know we’ll fight it, right? There’s no way you can take care of yourself out there. You can barely handle us. Besides, who else is going to take care of you?”

 You felt a presence next to you, it was Maeve. However, you felt the others behind you.

 “They will.” You said, standing strong, “And, yes, it’ll cost us, but we’ll fight it. Because it’s worth it. You were toxic to me, mum. And, I think I deserve better.”

 With that, you and your new family walked out.

  It had been a long battle, one filled with ups and downs, but the others stood by you, chipping in however they could.

 Plus, Maeve found herself with a new sibling, so that was something. It felt nice, to be validated, to have your pronouns respected and your thoughts taken on board.

 As you returned home from school one day, Maeve had left a bit earlier. You opened the door, going in and throwing your bag to the floor and laying on the couch, “Good day?” She asked, stirring the coffee she had made.

 You looked to her with a smile, “Yeah, good day.” You confirmed.

[dollslayer]

Shots or Dare

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: A drinking game goes one step too far. Or does it?

W/C: 1,551

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drunken antics, hangovers, swearing

A/N: Just a quick little oneshot for y'all! I'm working on some bigger stuff but wanted to put this out there just for kicks. If you like it check out my other stuff and reblog/comment! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

____

‘When will yo finally jsut go on s date with me?’

You sent it before you could even really register your actions. This is why you should’ve volunteered to be DD. Drinking on Girl’s Night always lands you in trouble. Trouble in this case, comes in the form of a dare and the persuasions of an equally drunk and far more excited Wanda.

“You finally DID IT! YOU DID IT!” Wanda hollers as she jumps from the booth in celebration.

Your hand shot up to cover her mouth, noticing several tables in the bar were looking towards you. You wobbled a bit and held the table for support with your other hand. You shushed her and sat back down.

“Did what? What did I do?” You asked, seeming to be the only one not in on the joke.

“Check your texts, lover girl” Paling in fear at her words you swipe up on your phone and read. Oh, God.

‘When will yo finally jsut go on s date with me?’ Read: 1:19AM You felt the blood rush from your brain to your cheeks in sheer humiliation.

You tried your best to recall a few minutes ago when Wanda was practically typing out the message for you as Nat looked on in amusement. You were playing Shots or Dare, a very dangerous game you now realized. Wanda dared you that you wouldn’t finally say something to Steve, whom you’ve had a crush on since you joined the team. You were always so much bolder when you were drunk.

Now sobered in an instant having seen that not only had you actually sent the text but that he’d read it. Your superior officer, your teammate, your friend. God, I must seem so sloppy. How do I even solve this? What do I even say? How soon could I realistically transfer out so I never have to see him again?

Your phone sat shakily in your hands as your thumb hovered above it, unsure what to type. Before you could Nat snatched your phone from your hand and put it in her pocket. You were about to protest when she just shook her head at you.

“It’s too late and you’re too drunk. He probably thinks you’re kidding. Just sleep in my room tonight we’ll fix it in the morning” She offered.

Even though Nat herself was 4 or 5 drinks in she always seemed to have her head on straight. You swallowed and nodded before hiding your face in your hands.

“Relax, I’m sure he thinks it’s hot you’re just going for it! My turn! I choose dare!” Wanda changed the subject with a clap of her hands and eagerly awaited her dare. You didn’t know how you were going to get through the rest of the night without freaking out about it so you ordered yourself another drink and got to forgetting.

____

Staying out until almost 3, the group of you stumbled your way back to the tower and into Nat’s room. You promptly passed out in full makeup and without changing your clothes. You’d wake up to a hangover but that was tomorrow you’s problem.

And a problem it was, not six hours later you awoke to loud knocking from down the hall. You groaned and turn into the couch cushions hoping to fall back asleep. The knocking came again and you ignored it, sighing in comfort when you heard whomever it was retreating back up the hall.

Unable to sleep, you got up slowly and tried to gauge the severity of your hangover. Deciding you’d rather deal with this in the comfort of your own room you wrestle to get your shoes off your feet and carry them in one hand while you open the door with the other. You do your best to sneak down the hall to your room, only being a few doors down from Nat.

You make it just in front of your room when you drop your shoes and wince at the sound it makes. You steady yourself on the door to pick them up when you hit your head on the handle. It stings and you cringe at the feeling of the long handle getting stuck in your hair. Surprised, you hiss at the pain and drop both your shoes again as you desperately try to untangle yourself.

You could not be more of a mess if you tried. Maybe if you puked right now but all the willpower you had left was preventing that from happening. After a moment of all but ripping your hair from your head you’re free with one final jerk forwards, which of course, causes you to lose your balance and topple forward.

You put both your hands out and brace for the carpet burn of the collision but it never comes. Instead you’re being held steady by two large hands and all you can think to do is pray that it isn’t who you think it is. No God would be that cruel.

You slowly look up and find yourself eye to eye with Steve. No God except this one, apparently. He looks concerned as he helps you back up slowly to your feet. He picks up your shoes and opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He looks you up and down, taking in your appearance trying to assess how best to approach the situation.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re still in last night’s clothes and that the mascara on your eyelashes is smudged from where you fell asleep. If the Earth could swallow you whole right now you’d have no objections. You feel sweat from your nervousness mixing with last night’s too. I am a literal human disaster, this could not get worse. Please, please don’t bring up the text.

He clears his throat. “I, um, I saw you texted me last night.” Fuck. “I knew you were out with the girls, just wanted to make sure you made it home okay.”

You hide your face with your hands and huff out a breath of embarrassment.

“Yeah, um, thank… you… Yeah I’m good” You were not good. On top of the trainwreck of an encounter this already was your knees are giving out on you. You need to lay down now. Maybe get some food in you.

Steve rushed forward to pick you up again when you caught yourself against the door and fumbled to unlock it.

“Why don’t you let me do that?” He moved you gently aside to fiddle with the door before opening it and ushering you inside.

He set your shoes down by the door and helped you out of your jacket.

“When’s the last time you ate something? Or maybe you need some water?” He offered.

You shook your head at him and stuck your hands out to feel your way to your bed. This was already so embarrassing, Steve didn’t need to continue to see you like this.

Steve shook his head slightly and tsked at you. He helped you into bed and then looked at you with his hands on his hips, like he was contemplating his next move.

“I’m going to make some breakfast, do you think you could get a shower in that time or do you need to rest? Regardless after that you’re going to eat what I made and drink a whole glass of water, no protests.” He spoke gently but firm as he walked towards the door.

“Steve, please you don’t need to do this, I’m so sorry jus’ lemme get some sleep you don’t have to do anyth-”

“I said no protests. Now if I come back here in 15 minutes and you’re not in that shower I’m gonna be upset, do you understand?” He was using his Captain voice now and you rolled your eyes before giving him a lazy salute.

“Aye aye, cap” He chooses not to respond to your smart ass response, only chuckles as he closes the door behind him.

____

One very woozy shower later you managed to only kind of puke your guts out and put on a clean pair of clothes. You exited your ensuite to the smell of bacon and eggs. Having gotten all the puke out of your system your mouth was now practically watering at the prospect of food.

Steve was sat on your couch with two plates and he stood to greet you.

“I didn’t know what you like but I figure you can’t go wrong with the classics. I figure while we eat we can watch one of these so-called ‘classics’ you’re always on my case about watching?” He grinned at you and waited for a response.

You shuffled over to your couch and plopped down beside him.

“Why’re you doin’ this for me, Steve? You don’t have to do any of this, I’m good” You kept trying to insist, feeling guilty that you were so hungover earlier and messy in front of him on top of your very infamous drunk text.

“Well this is a date isn’t it?” He smiles down at you with a boyish smirk and all you can do is return his expression and think of what movie to pick. Maybe Shots or Dare isn’t all that bad. This time at least.

[beautifulletdownfics]

Harry’s got four sold out shows at the London O2 and no idea who’s just walked on to the stage of his life …

In which Harry and Nina meet through an alternate set of events involving indoor football matches going wrong & Rodger being liberal with offering Nina’s musical services

Say Harry needs an exceptional horn player in a pinch Say Nina has a few free nights & nowhere better to be

+++

Part 2: One Sweet Love

Nina hadn't eaten all day.

It wasn’t deliberate, but at every point where an opportunity to turn her attention to food arose, Nina found herself utterly unable to make a decision. She spent the morning in rehearsals, her lunch break was taken up with a phone call to her dad, and then in the afternoon, Nina had a further rehearsal with just her section of the orchestra.

All the while, her mind relentlessly swirled around her going on a date with Harry that evening. 

Two days after the last O2 show he called her, still suffering under the hangover from the wrap party but wanting to find out when Nina was free of an evening. Their conversation had been less awkward than it could have been, but Nina still found herself hanging up and repeating it back to herself on loop for the following twelve hours, cringing where she had embarrassed herself.

There was a rather large part of Nina that was sure she would never hear from Harry Styles again.  

In fact, if it not been for Harry himself looming over her at the wrap party while they exchanged numbers, she fully intended to not save his number at all. 

“What emoji are you gonna pick for my contact?” He’d slurred right into her ear, swaying happily with a gin in his hand and magenta feather boa around his neck. 

He smelled divine, and Nina stole a sip of his drink before she settled on the poo emoji.

“Well, that’s just rude.”

+++

Harry was absolutely terrified.

He was sure he made the wrong decision. At the beginning of the week, he cancelled the reservation for the fancy Italian bistro. He instead decided to take Nina to the dumpling house with the linoleum chairs and paper table cloths. Vacillating between pulling out all the stops or keeping things low key was making Harry feel like an absolute nutcase. 

Harry didn’t know Nina well enough to make a well-informed decision. 

So, he went with his gut and said he would meet her inside the horribly furnished, usually empty, dumpling restaurant tucked away off a barely used London high street. Harry hadn’t felt quite so ferociously nervous in a long time, and he found himself gurgling around half-formed memories of drunkenly talking to Nina at the London shows’ after-party. On the night he told himself not to linger around her the whole time, it would draw attention, but also gave him greater opportunity to say something stupid and repulse the pretty trumpet player. 

“Hiya,” a sweet voice sang out from above him. 

Harry jumped out of his seat, adrenaline causing his stomach to drop and heart rate to soar, “Hi!”

“Sorry for sneaking up on you,” Nina said, looking absolutely gorgeous as Harry took her against his chest for a greeting hug. 

+++

Nina could tell Harry was nervous. 

It made her feel better. She wasn’t alone in this sickening feeling and all the various shades and hues it flourished into. Even in blue jeans and a jumper, he looked painfully handsome and put together, cool in a way Nina didn’t dare attempt. The custom and tailored suits he wore on stage made her tummy gurgle pleasantly. Still, there was something about a more causal Harry that cast a specific type of spell Nina was particularly susceptible to. 

“Did someone tell you something dreadful about me?" She asked with what she hoped was a warm smile. 

He missed the lightness in her tone, and his eyes bulged, “No! What makes you say that?”

“You look petrified,” She explained calmly, regretting trying to lighten the mood. “I wondered if someone told you I was a real ogre of a human.”

“Oh,” Harry’s shoulders relaxed, and he swallowed before a smile slowly appeared on his face too, “No. Just the normal nerves one feels when trying to woo a musical prodigy ... I might have Googled you,” He added hesitantly and held his thumb and pointer out to her, “Just a little bit.”

Nina smiled, “And to think I forced myself not to do the same to you.”

+++

Harry was such a twat. 

Nina sat opposite him with a kind, truly enchanting smile on her face, and he just couldn’t pull himself together. Why he told her about his midnight Google was beyond Harry, particularly when he spent the morning swearing to himself never to breathe a word of it to anyone.

He’d messed that up now. 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, “That was a weird thing to say but ... I mean … You’re seriously impressive.”

“Thank you,” Nina ducked her head to try hiding the pink that danced across her cheekbones. “You really could have just asked ... Now I won’t have anything to talk about tonight.”

Harry needed to rediscover his swagger, and quickly, "I want to hear all about it from you."

Not quite, Harry, mate, he thought to himself harshly.

"Can we order first? I'm starved," Nina smiled brightly, "I was dealing with a valve crisis and missed lunch today. What do you recommend?"

“I've never heard the words 'valve' and 'crisis' next to each other," He returned the smile, wondering where the radiant beauty in front of him had been hiding every moment up until then. 

+++

Nina didn’t know how to make him feel better. 

She let Harry order the dishes he’d ordered before and enjoyed. She wasn’t playing any games when she told him she would eat anything. She really would. And she didn’t mind too much that he Googled her, all the usual things would be there for him to see. Some social accounts, a few dozen articles about her career to this point—nothing she was worried about. 

Nothing like what Nina was fearful she would find on him. 

She could remember a few bigger names Harry had been tied to years ago, but she wasn’t in on the details of his dating life in recent times. If it was important, and if it became relevant to her, Nina would find out from Harry himself. 

Their food arrived, and it was a welcome distraction from them both looking at each other terrified of saying the wrong thing.

“What was your day like?” Harry asked her, pushing a basket of steamed ginger pork dumplings her way, “Other than your valve issue.”

Nina shuffled in her seat and took a sip of the wine in front of her, “Long. But good. We open our new season in less than two weeks, so it’s battle stations at the moment.”

Harry placed an elbow on the table and leaned forward with a sheepish look, “I want to ask questions, but it’s just going to highlight how clueless I am ...”

Nina was charmed by his humility and cocked her head to one side, “There are no stupid questions, isn’t that what they say?”

“Okay,” He smiled, and Nina felt a knot tighten in her stomach, “You play the trumpet in the London Symphony Orchestra. And you’ve done that for ...”

“Almost a year.”

“And that’s your job,” Harry stated, but there was a hesitation behind it that told Nina he really was clueless. 

“I signed an employment contract and everything,” the soupy dumpling exploded in her mouth and was delicious.

“Right,” He was holding a piece of soy broccoli up to his mouth ready to eat, “And before that you were …”

“At Cambridge and in the Manchester Symphony … I had a little break after graduating,” She swallowed over the bigger story there, hoping Harry wouldn’t catch an interest in it. “And then I moved here. Been in London eighteen months or so.”

“Wait,” He frowned, “You’ve graduated from Cambridge? How old are you?”

“Twenty-one,” She provided quickly, “As of a week or so ago.”

Harry winced, “It wasn’t one of the nights you were playing with us, was it?

“A few days before,” she pacified him. 

“Well, happy birthday,” Harry said quickly, “I wish I’d known sooner.”

+++

Harry noticed her fumble with her chopsticks when she spoke about Cambridge. 

He hoped he’d done a good job of steering away from it, “When did you start playing?”

“Piano at four, trumpet when I was eight,” Nina’s fringe fell across her eyes, and Harry watched her swat it away before digging into the side of greens he ordered.

He watched her quietly for a moment, digesting what Nina said. It was truly as though she had no self-awareness at all when it came to how remarkable she was. A little of the soup from the dumpling Nina bit into dribbled down her chin and she hurried to dab it away with a paper serviette, she ducked her head and checked to see if Harry saw.

“You missed a little bit,” He smirked at her, rubbing his own chin with his thumb. “They’re good, hey?”

“Really good,” Nina confirmed with an earnest nod, her embarrassment momentarily flushing her cheeks.

“I’m gonna eat the last one,’ Harry declared, dropping all semblance of being the gentleman he knew he should.

“Oi!” Nina hit him away with her chopsticks, and it tapped the cross tattooed on the back of his hand. It drew her eye and Harry watched the question spill out of Nina before she could stop herself, “Are you religious?”

Harry tried to keep his face neutral, but really he was overjoyed her first personal question wasn’t about his career, “I’d say spiritual, not religious.”

Nina pondered his response, “Is that to avoid being tied to a denomination or to avoid being tied to one set of beliefs?”

“The latter,” Harry sipped his wine and decided to open up a little bit more, “It’s the mindfulness behind it all that I think is probably incredibly healthy.”

“How so?” 

"I like the escapism of it, the surrendering to not being in control of everything." Harry was watching Nina intently listen to his answer and decided he’d most likely tell her anything she wanted to know, “I like the flippant sort of relief faith can give. A hundred little surrenders a day makes for a smoother mental state, at least in my case anyway.”

“Are you sure it’s not just denialism disguised?” Nina challenged him with a teasing smile that made his heart jump with nerves.

“I don’t think it’s denialism,” Harry started slowly, “Even without being sure myself, the fact that so many people are sure is powerful in itself. There are such … Spirituality is such a binding force in humanity.”

+++

Nina liked his answer.

Harry didn’t shy away from a vulnerable conversation, she ticked a box in her mind. 

The older lady who was looking after them—and only them, the tiny dumpling house was literally empty—deposited another plate of food on the table. Before walking away, she tutted at Harry and brushed a white ball of lint off his shoulder, saying something in her language and patting his head in a motherly fashion. 

Harry blushed profoundly and mumbled a small thanks while Nina rolled her lips to stop from laughing. 

“Have you always wanted to be a singer?” She asked, watching Harry messily deposit some of the Prawn Kung Pao noodles into his little bowl. 

“Not really,” He passed the noodles to Nina and ran his hands up and down his thighs, “I mean, yeah but not seriously, you know? It wasn’t like … A thing I was actively working towards. An opportunity came up, and I thought, ‘Yeah, I’ll give this a go.’ It took a year or so for me to wise up and decide I really wanted to do it. I guess I sort of had it in my head that it probably wouldn’t work out, I was just taking everything as it came and hoping for the best.”

“What would you have done instead?”

“I’m not smart enough to be a doctor,” He gestured to her glass with the wine bottle and topped her up after Nina nodded to him, “But I was interested in something in health.”

“Well, you’re exceptional at what you do now,” Nina told him, “I think it’s safe to say that it’s going to work out.”

Harry gave her a megawatt smile, “I hope so. I suppose you’ve always wanted to do what you’re doing?”

“Hmmm," She rocked her head from side to side, "I think it would be fairer to say that I’ve always done what I’m doing.”

+++

Harry sensed some self-doubt he hadn’t expected.

“It’s not like I had aggressive stage parents or that kind of thing,” Nina was quick to clarify, looking a little like she regretted what she said, “I wanted to be … I loved music. And I was good at it, it’s not like anyone was forcing my hand. I just never really considered anything else growing up. I watched my dad, and I wanted to be in his orchestra one day.” 

“Where does the prodigy thing come in then,” Harry asked because he was dying to know how Nina felt about the label. Every time somebody called him an ‘icon’ or an ‘idol’ he found it incredibly awkward but Nina was legitimately gifted which seemed to him like something else entirely. Each article opened by establishing Nina as a true marvel, citing her talent as a once in a generation phenomenon. 

She bunched up her nose at him, “It’s weird.”

“How old were you?” He prompted gently, wondering if she just hated the word ‘prodigy’ not necessarily what it came with, "When people started calling you that, I mean."

“Nine, I think. My dad says earlier, but my mum didn’t want to draw attention to it until I was a little older.”

“She was protective of you,” Harry struggled to pick up the last of his noodles with his chopsticks and instead swapped to a spoon. 

“Both my parents wanted me to get to be a kid. Music wasn’t allowed to take over my life until I was old enough to completely self motivate.”

“I read an article about child prodigies,” Harry told her, “It’s fascinating. How working memory is the key to the whole thing? And I read musical prodigies generally present with a working memory off the charts from being able to play music purely off aural mimicry before they can actually read music to the level they can play at … Then the whole snowballing genome thing and how it’s all a reward structure that accelerates learning? It's amazing, really.”

Nina laughed nervously and squirmed in her seat, “Oh boy, can we talk about dating Hollywood actresses instead?”

Harry’s laugh exploded out of him, “Point taken. Sorry, I didn’t go to uni so sometimes I go a little gangbusters on research.”

+++

Nina asked about his family.

He recounted his childhood fondly, twice mentioning how grateful he was for his relationships with his mother and sister. He bragged about each of them, boasting about his mother’s drive and warmth, and his sister’s intelligence and soft heart. 

Harry turned her question back onto Nina, hearing stories of her growing up all over the world with her father's job. She listed through incredible cities and threw around names of symphonies Harry’d never heard of but was still gracious in pretending he had. Then Nina talked about her teenage years playing all over the place herself. When she tells him about her younger brother Harry makes the same comment everyone does: “Laykn? I’ve never heard that name before.”

Talking about herself felt weird when sitting in front of the Harry Styles. As the night went on, Nina thought less of him as the star selling out the O2 and more as the guy who spilt chilli oil all over the table and tried to hide it with a napkin.

“This has been really great,” Harry’s voice rumbled delicately as they stood outside the restaurant sometime later, “Can I drive you home?”

Nina was thinking about how far into her bag, she would have to dig to find her gloves and said yes to him before running Harry’s words through her mind properly. 

“Oh,” She started correcting, “No, you don’t have to.”

“It’s late,” Harry stated, “I’ll drive you. I’m parked this way.”

+++

Harry called her the next morning.

“Good morning,” Nina said, her voice muffled with background noise.

“Hi!” Harry greeted her, forgiving himself for the fact it was about two hours after he first decided he wanted to call her, “Where are you?”

“I’m on the tube,” Nina laughed at something Harry wasn’t privy to, “How are you?”

He’d calling to ask her on another date, but Harry wasn’t sure how to navigate that conversation precisely. It was less than twenty-four hours since their first one, and he’d been trying to tell himself all morning that looking desperate was a liveable symptom if she said yes. He felt like he needed to move on this quickly. Harry didn’t want to go back to LA on the weekend without spending as much time with Nina as possible. 

“I’m good,” He replied finally, “Look, I’m calling because … Well, I’m only in London until the end of this week, and I was really hoping to see you again before then.”

Harry bit at his thumbnail a little too hard and pulled it from his mouth, a harsh look for the nail that puckered under pressure. 

“That would be nice,” Nina said after a small pause, “What did you have in mind? I’m actually free tonight. Or any other night really … I’m free.”

“Shit,” Harry cursed, not having planned out the conversation beyond the asking. 

“Shit?” Nina questioned.

“No! No, that’s great!” He hurried, “Let’s make it tonight. I … I thought I’d cook for us. Just something low key at my house … Just dinner! I swear, it seems like a pull move but I just … I like having people over. I’m a good cook, I promise.”

Nina was laughing at him, but it was such a sweet and joyful sound Harry didn’t mind feeling daft for it, “That sounds lovely. Can I bring dessert? Or wine?”

“Dessert is my favourite part,” Harry told her with a smile, finally finding his flirting game (she said yes! he screamed to himself), “I’m not sure I’m ready to hand that responsibility over just yet.”

“I won’t disappoint,” Nina countered with her own teasing tone, “It’ll be the best dessert you have all year, one Northerner to another.”

“The midlands are not very North …”

“A true dessert lover would never turn down what I'm offering."

+++

Nina loved hearing the smile in his voice. 

“Okay,” Harry rumbled, “You can bring dessert. I’ll allow it.”

They hung up, and Nina wanted to squeal, but she was on the tube, and that would definitely cause alarm. She looked around the other passengers, almost expecting them all to be staring at her because Harry Styles just invited her to his house for their second date. 

Her phone lit up with a text from him—an address and the code for the gate.

How was she expected to go about her day with this looming over her? When her stop came, Nina stumbled out of the station and into the crisp London air, her trumpet case clutched against her chest where she was concerned with hitting people’s shins in the rush hour foot traffic.

“Nina!”

A shout from behind stopped her walking, and she turned to see her section lead, Ryan, chasing after her from the tube escalators, she smiled at him, “Hiya! Alright?” “I’ll be better when this bloody week is over,” He hurried, moving in to step beside her, “Maria’s family are staying on the weekend, and there’s a cleaning list the that almost touches the floor stuck to the fridge. Thank god our weekend starts on Thursdays is all I’m thinking. Do you have plans?”

“Not this weekend,” Nina evaded easily. I’m going on a second date with Harry Styles tonight, but Wednesday isn’t classified as the weekend, is it? She continued internally.

“We should get a drink tomorrow evening,” He suggested easily, “I’ll ask a few of the others.” “Sounds good,” Nina agreed, the usual Thursday night drink crew was fun to be around, and she’d found everything easier transitioning into the orchestra when she socialised with the players in hers and Ryan’s age bracket. 

They walked into the rehearsal building together, heading straight into sectional rehearsals that would take them through to lunch. Nina sent Harry a quick text before the day got away from her:

‘Make sure you have fresh strawberries, please.’

+++

Harry changed his clothes twice in the fifteen minutes before Nina arrived.

He felt like a complete dimwit, who changes their clothes for being at home!

Mercifully, Nina arrived, and all the anxiety about what he was wearing exited the door, and she stepped inside. Her cheeks were flushed from the chilly wind, and she stood in Harry’s entryway, holding a flat cake box while also somehow managing to carry an instrument case and small backpack. 

“Let me take that,” He snapped into action, taking the instrument first and putting it next to the wicker shoe basket. “And this,” Harry went back for the cake box, “Take your shoes off if that makes you more comfortable,” He invited her, “I can lend you some socks if you like?”

“That would be lovely, thanks,” Nina smiled up at him, accepting the hug and cheek kiss Harry leant in to greet her with. “Your house smells incredible.”

 “The kitchen is just through there,” Harry pointed down the hall, “I’ll be right back with socks.”

He took the stairs to the upper level of his house three at a time, stumbling at the top when he attempted four. Harry hurried straight into his wardrobe and pulled out three different pairs of socks, trying to decide which pair would make him look the most put together and attractive to her.

They’re fucking socks mate, He mumbled to himself, There’s no miracle from making the right decision.

Downstairs Harry expected to find Nina awkwardly standing in his kitchen. She wasn’t.

She was standing over the stove with a wooden spoon she must have found in his second draw, stirring the apple sauce on the hob. He paused for a moment, tracing the lines of her body with his eyes. Nina was up on her tippy toes, the bottom of her feet smooth and clean. She was wearing tapered gingham check slacks with a very close to sheer silk blouse. Harry could see the grey lace bodice she was wearing underneath, and he swallowed thickly, Nina was genuinely dazzling. Her coat was folded over one of his bar stools and Harry cursed himself for not having taken it from her when she arrived.

“Socks,” He walked into the room, “They’re clean, I swear.”

Nina turned around, “Perfect, thank you. Do you have nutmeg?”

Harry frowned at her, “Are you taking over in my kitchen?” She beamed back at him, and Harry felt weak at the knees, “Yes.”

She was perfect. +++

Nina liked the way his socks bunch around her ankles.

Harry disappeared into his pantry and returned with a small vile of nutmeg, “How much?” He asked her.

“Just a shake,” Nina moved to the side to give him access to the pot, she wriggled her toes in his socks to start them warming.

“I’ve done a roast,” Harry watched her stir in the spice, “I figured it was a safe bet.”

“I love a roast,” Nina crooned quietly.

Harry didn’t move from her side, and Nina enjoyed the closeness. He smelt lovely, and there was something relaxed and so inviting about the ease his charming nature expelled from him. Eventually, he asked Nina if she’d like a glass of wine and she happily accepted, taking the elegant glass from Harry’s hand and chinking it against his, both of them murmuring ‘cheers’ to each other.

“So this might be really weird,” Harry said to her, looking unsure of himself, “But I wondered if you wanted to play a game before tea? It should be ready in about half an hour and my sister left Bananagrams here, have you played?” “I haven’t,” Nina told Harry, following his movement as he rounded his kitchen counter and pulled out a yellow zip-up banana from under a pile of papers.

“It’s like Scrabble,” Harry unzipped it and dumped the small square tiles on the bench, “But there’s no board … Sorry,” He started gathering them back again, shaking his head at himself, “It’s not very date-ish, is it? I’ll put a playlist on, we could go sit on the sofa instead.”

Nina halted his movements with a hand to his forearm, stopping him packing up the game, “My family is board game obsessed, I hope you’re ready to lose.”

Harry’s face stayed as it was for a moment, probably trying to read how sincere she was being, and then he narrowed his beautiful, expressive eyes at her, “Game on.”

+++

Harry thought dinner went well.

The meat was cooked just right and Harry’s frantic call to his mother earlier in the afternoon when he was worried he’d over salted the potatoes proved worth doing. Her advice to toss the pumpkin in the same bowl distributed his salty mess across all the root vegetables and meant everything was deliciously crispy. Breaking into his sister’s house while she was at work to steal some fresh herbs from her garden was also worth it, Nina complemented the basil in the side salad.

“I’ve got these,” He told her, standing up to clear her plate away, “I’ll bring dessert in.”

“No!” Nina insisted on helping, “I have some prep to do, and I want to see your face for the big reveal.”

Harry smiled as she trotted into the kitchen behind him, her perfume swelling around them. He wanted to ask her what it was but didn’t want to expose how closely he noticed every single thing about her. Nina opened his fridge without seeming shy at all and pulled out the cake box she arrived with. His eyes lingered on her backside when she crouched down to reach into the back of his fridge for the strawberries he bought from Waitrose at her request.

“Can you chop these for me?” Nina found a chopping board and knife before Harry could remember how to open his own damn dishwasher and stack it. 

“I feel extremely intimidated right now,” He chuckled, stepping up to where she had set him up at the counter. He leaned over to try and peek over the lid of the box when she opened it, “Oh my god.” Nina bit her lip, and her eyes shone when she looked up at him, tilting the box in his direction, “Right? I’m a fucking dessert wizard.”

Harry wanted to kiss her lips where the curse word lingered, she was truly gorgeous, and he was struggling to contain his attraction. Obediently, he started slicing the strawberries as Nina slid the baked ricotta cake that had his mouth watering onto a platter. This woman helping herself to his kitchen had Harry screaming internally to never let her leave.

“Papa’s baked ricotta cake with Nutella has a shortcrust pastry and soft ricotta centre with piped hazelnut goo piped inside and on top." Nina read from the card tucked into the box, “To enhance your cake for a special occasion, we suggest adding a border of fresh cream, strawberries and chocolate swirls.”

“Who is Papa and where can I get this cake from again,” Harry said dramatically, the cocoa and hazelnut smell wafting up to his nose.

“I’ll never tell!” Nina hugged the card to her chest when Harry tried to snatch it from her, “It’s the only move I’ve got!”

Harry’s laugh exploded out of him at that. Her comedic timing was fantastic, but he was also laughing at the audacity of Nina thinking the cake was the only thing going for her.

+++

Nina watched Harry take his first mouthful of dessert.

He dropped his head back and groaned, “Fuck.”

Nina bit her tongue in her mouth, watching the veins in his neck and trying very hard not to imagine herself kissing them. She waited for him to open his eyes and look at her before letting the triumph take over her face. They were back at his dining room table, and Harry had turned off the main light, flicking on a few lamps instead. Nina felt beautiful in the lighting under his gaze.

“Pretty good, hey?”

“It’s easily the best thing I’ve eaten all year,” Harry announced.

“That’s high praise seeing as it’s November,” Nina dug her fork in and took her first bite. The cake melted in her mouth and the mixture of sweet and tart made her hum. “If the science geniuses could hurry up and figure out a way to stop this going straight to my arse I’d eat this for every meal.”

Harry blinked at her but recovered quickly, Nina wished she’d kept her arse out of it, “This cake is worth having a shit arse for.”

Nina laughed and nodded, “You’re right.”

They were on their third glass of wine, and Nina felt warm and buoyant. She could see her reflection in the glass walls of the back of Harry’s house, the vision of the two of them together followed her as they moved between the dining room and his kitchen. Harry’s home was beautiful, and Nina wondered if he ever had the yearning to leave, or whether he wished he could live all his days contained in this magical little world. 

“Wine or tea?” Harry asked.

“Tea, please,” Nina took his wine glass from where Harry deserted it on the bench and turned to his sink, the sound of the kettle being flicked on sounding out behind her.

“You don’t need to do that,” Harry's voice was low behind her, much closer than Nina expected. She jumped and instinctually turned to his voice, the wine glasses were forgotten in the soapy water when she saw the look in his eyes. Harry leant around her to turn off the tap and settled his elbow on the bench next to her, lowering himself to level their faces, “Can I kiss you now, please?” Nina nodded once, “Yes.”

The corners of his mouth tilted up as Harry leaned closer, shutting his eyes at the last moment when Nina felt his lips hover over hers, “You’re so beautiful,” He told her right before covering Nina’s mouth with his.

+++

Harry got lost in the kiss quickly.

A moment was all it took for him to gather her into his arms and deepen the kiss, holding her back carefully and arching his own down to make it more comfortable. Her hands threaded around his neck and Harry breathed out through his nose as their tongues danced. She tasted like Pinot Gris and chocolate, and the feel of her body against his electrified Harry’s heart. 

The kiss was slow and languid, and Harry took his time with it, figuring out what Nina liked from the movement of her hands or the small sighs she let out. His hands moved down over her hips to cover her bum without him thinking and by the time he was thinking Harry was internally kicking himself for jumping forward. But Nina stepped closer to him and arched her back a little, inviting the way his hands had advanced down her body.

The kettle snapping off behind them had Harry pulling back, breathless and flushed, “Hi.” “Hello,” Nina grinned back.

Harry hated that his mind swirled with a question about Nina’s character and intentions, could he trust that she was there for the right reasons? His gut told him that he could, and he hated that the dark thoughts lingered. She presented as lovely and kind and caring, and Harry was so attracted to her for that, but she was a musician, and something sick inside Harry couldn’t help but wonder if she was out to gain something from him.

“Do you have milk?” She gathered herself better than Harry and had taken over making the tea. Harry nodded and watched her pull his milk from the fridge, he was trying to reel his hormones in. “Tell me when.”

“When,” Harry approached her carefully, watching as she stopped pouring and started tugging on the teabag in the mug closest to him. 

+++

Nina had never been kissed like that.

They moved into his living room, and Harry lit a candle on the coffee table. Nina recognised the expensive brand and leant down to smell it. Harry sat down heavily on the sofa and brought his knees up to his chest, watching her over his steaming tea after flicking on the telly and putting it on mute.

“I was given one of these as a gift once,” She pointed to the candle, tucking her legs up under her body and snuggling into the spot next to him, “I didn’t burn it for months and months because I didn’t want to waste it.”

“My sister gets sent them,” Harry told her, “She brings them over every now and again.”

Nina doubted herself for a moment, something had shifted since the kiss and she wasn’t able to put her finger on it. Harry seemed a little removed, and she took a sip of her tea, feeling awkward and unsure. She started thinking about ways to casually say she should be heading home soon. Nina was disappointed though because until a moment ago she hadn’t considered the time once all night. If Harry was suddenly not feeling her company though …

“I should—

—Would you ever want to play more commercial music?” Harry spoke over her, “Sorry, what were you going to say?”

“Nothing,” Nina hurried, already addicted to the idea of staying longer with him, “And no, not as my primary gig anyway. You might not know it from looking at me but … I’m a classical feign. I get bored with pop music pretty quickly, no offence.” Harry chortled, “None taken. It seems I was lucky to have you for as many nights as I did then,” Nina felt herself blush at his words and watched Harry realise what he said, “Shit, I meant at the O2!”

“I know what you meant,” She said quietly. “And last week was fun, I could do that a few times a year without complaining. There’s nothing like playing an orchestra suite though …”

Harry appeared to have sweetened up again slightly, “I’d really like to see the orchestra perform sometime.”

“Name a date, and I’ll sort you with tickets,” Nina said playfully. 

“Usually it’s me saying that,” Harry took another sip of tea and Nina wondered if he liked that she was musical or not. 

They started talking about something on the telly, which led to a conversation about their favourite shows from when they were children. Nina didn’t do a very good job of pretending she watched as much TV as other kids, she and her brother weren’t really allowed to sit in front of it very much. Harry developed a theory that maybe everyone could be a genius if their parents didn’t let them rot their tiny brains watching South Park and Hey Arnold.

+++ Harry made her feel uncomfortable.

It was killing him, her discomfort was hidden in her eyes that darted around the room when Nina thought he wasn’t looking. She was trying extra hard to salvage the conversation, and Harry hated himself for ever doubting her. She wasn’t the problem, Harry was. Harry and his past choices were the issue, and he repeated over and over to himself not to project onto her. Nina was a close friend of one of Harry’s most trusted friends. Rodger wouldn’t have recommended her to step in to play horn at Harry’s shows if she was the type to take advantage of him, and Harry hated himself for forgetting it. 

He wished he could rewind and get lost in her again. 

“Are you working tomorrow?” Nina asked.

“No, actually,” Harry put his legs down and turned to face her, “I’m leaving for LA on Saturday and have the next few days off. Are you?”

“I am, but Thursday is our Friday, so I just have tomorrow and then the weekend.”

“Wait,” Harry moved his arm, hitching it over the back of the sofa and letting this hand hang down between them, “Orchestras get a three day weekend?”

Nina’s eye flicked to his open palm for a brief moment, but she kept both hands around her mug, “During rehearsals, yes. But I think nearly everyone spends at least a full day of practice on their own. I usually go in to the rehearsal rooms on Friday afternoons and Sundays.”

“That’s not at all in the spirit of the weekend!”

“Can’t risk standing up in Royal Albert Hall and fudging the notes … It’s got Royal in the title.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow, “Have you played for royalty?”

“Just British, or others too?”

“Any.”

“Yes.” “Met them?” Harry pressed through a grin.

“Princess Anne loves Bach,” Nina provided, “And Prince William accidentally told me our performance was ‘surprisingly’ good.”

“Fumbled his words in front of a pretty girl,” Harry sympathised. Nina scoffed. 

He bit the bullet and tucked the string of hair that kept falling across Nina’s face behind her ear, she looked down at her tea and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Harry wanted to kiss her again but wasn’t sure how to conjure the moment. He was fearful she was thinking about leaving and Harry’s wasn’t ready for that yet.

Harry cleared his throat but kept his voice low when he spoke, “What’s the worst you’ve ever messed up on stage?” Nina didn’t need long to consider her answer, “When I was sixteen I slipped in my spit puddle on my way up to be the soloist. I didn’t fall, but there was a gasp from the audience as though I might have.” “That’s … unpleasant,” Harry cringed for her, knowing only small amounts about brass instruments but he was well versed on the spit puddles they produced. “I audibly farted during an interview once, it was so embarrassing,” He watched Nina’s reaction, “They were kind enough to edit it out, but I’ve never done a follow up for that site again.”

Nina laughed at him openly, and Harry found himself laughing along, happy to have removed the worry from her face. He took the opportunity to shuffle a little closer and caught Nina’s mouth in a kiss to silence them both.   

+++

Nina let Harry pry her mug from her fingers.

He put it with his own on the coffee table and smiled against her lips when he came back to them. His hand cupped her cheek gently, and Nina melted into his touch, her worries slipping away. His lips were soft and supple, opening hers up and slowly deepening the kiss again. Their mouths were familiar now, and Nina relished in the way his nose bumped softly against her cheek, losing herself in the feeling of his fingertips twisting through the hair around her ears. 

It wasn’t very long before she felt one of Harry’s hands fall to her hip and give it a squeeze. Their mouths slipped apart, and Nina sighed when Harry’s found the base of her neck and worked at the skin there. She flexed her toes as desire rushed through her. When she pushed up onto her knees, Harry sensed what Nina was about to do and leant back, giving her room to hitch one leg over his hips to straddle him.

“This okay?” She asked, her hair falling around his face.

“Perfect,” Harry responded, taking both hands and pushing all her brown locks back off her face, “Fucking perfect.”

Nina lowered her head to kiss him, and Harry moved his hands down the length of her back and then ghosted his fingers up under her shirt. Nina jolted closer to him when he ran them across the front of her hip bones, smiling against his mouth when he asked if she was ticklish. The movement brought her right over his hardness, and she pressed her hips down as soon as she felt it, instinct taking over for a moment.

“Christ,” Harry murmured roughly, holding her steady for a moment to catch his breath. 

She sat back on his thighs and smiled at him, loving the pink across his cheeks and the way his lips were swollen and puffed. He looked so incredibly sexy, and Nina wasn’t quite sure what it was that had her feeling like she was tied to the front of a freight train, but she doesn't deny herself the feeling.

Harry appeared to have collected himself and ran his fingers down Nina’s thighs slowly, sneaking back up on the underside and letting his palms rest on her bum. 

+++

Harry waited a moment to see if she would pull away.

When Nina didn’t, he wound his arms around her back and slid her back into his lap, his eyes fluttered closed as she moved over his erection. Their mouths met again, and Harry was yelling at himself to keep things slow, to savour the taste and feel of Nina, but she moaned against his lips when his hand found her breast over her bra, and he was a goner. 

“Wow,” Nina breathed out when he gripped Nina’s hips and flipped her onto her back, sliding his arm next to her head and hovering over her, “I’ve only seen that move in films.” Harry laughed against her lips and mumbled for her to shut up. He kissed along her jaw to the spot behind her ear that made her knees wobble in the kitchen. His left hand ran up, and down her side, while he propped himself up on his left arm, Nina had her hands under Harry's t-shirt and was scratching up and down his chest. 

“Sit up,” Harry told her urgently, resting back on his knees and fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. Nina giggled as she watched him struggle, and Harry let out a frustrated sigh, “Help me out here.”

Nina leant back, and he watched as she peeled the shirt over her head quickly, Harry nearly rolled his eyes at her. He was trying to be gentlemanly about it. When he looked down at her chest, he was surprised when Nina reached around behind her back and popped the clasp of her bralette.

There was half a second where Harry watched Nina hesitate, inches from regretting being so forward. But Harry refused to let it settle in her mind, he connected their mouths again, squeezing her bare sides and slipping the straps from her shoulders carefully. It wasn’t until Nina gripped the back of his t-shirt and started pulling it up over his shoulders that Harry thought a few steps forward.

“Come upstairs with me,” He pressed wet kisses to Nina’s lips, tracing the skin around her nipples and breathing in the sighs that came from her. She was so responsive to his touch, Harry was drunk on the feeling.

“Lead the way.”

+++

Nina didn’t regret it.

But when she woke up around 2 am and snuck into Harry’s ensuite to use the bathroom, she was struck by the thought this might be quite a frequent situation for Harry. Might. She wasn’t sure, and she certainly hadn’t thought the night before that sex had been his intention. But perhaps it had been.

Good on him, she thought, Why shouldn’t this be what he does.

Still, it wasn’t typically what Nina did. 

The sex had been brilliant, Harry clearly knew what he was doing. And he was receptive to Nina’s direction, even asking for it at times. He’d gone down on her too, which Nina wasn’t used to with casual hookups. Forgetting the image of his face between her legs, expertly building her up to her first delicious orgasm would be hard forgot. It would also take Nina a long time to forget the look that came over Harry’s face when she gave him the heads up that it had been a while since she’d last had intercourse. He almost looked offended that Nina felt she needed to ask for a little gentleness when he was first slipping into her. 

She walked out into the bedroom and tried to remember if she’d thought to bring her shirt up with them when they left his living room. When it wasn’t anywhere visible, she pushed her hair off her face and found her trousers on the seat by the window. Harry had given her a t-shirt to wear in bed, lessons from the past meant she never slept naked with anyone. Trusting another person with her naked form while she slept was something Nina didn’t ever expect to happen again—one idiot and a camera phone had ruined that kind of intimacy for her.

Just as she hopped onto one leg to pull her knickers on, Harry’s voice rumbled from the bed, “What’re you doin’?”

Nina froze and turned back to him, “Well, I’m … Nothing, I’m just …” “You’re not leaving,” His question fell flat across the room, and Nina dropped her shoulders.

“I just thought you’d probably—

—I don’t want you to go,” Harry said firmly, rising up onto his elbow to look at her. He pulled his head back, “Come back to bed. It’s the middle of the night.”

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be easier if I—

—Nina,” He spoke evenly, “Get back in bed with me. We’re not even close to walk of shame territory here, and certainly not sneaking out at 2 am.”

Nina pulled up her knickers but took one hesitant step towards the bed, watching Harry toss open her side of the bed and look at her expectantly. He didn’t lie back against his pillow until she was beside him, staring at the ceiling, feeling an avalanche of awkward carry over her. 

+++

Harry’s heart was racing.

He really hadn’t meant to sleep with her, and last night he certainly hadn’t regretted it. But now he’d given Nina the impression she might have been something akin to a one night stand, and that definitely wasn’t the impression he wanted to give her. 

Her arms were folded neatly across her chest as she lay next to him, neither of them speaking yet. Harry wondered if he had been too forward in getting her to return to bed, but at the same time, he no longer believed in keeping his mouth shut when dating was concerned. He was trying to be more forward about how he felt, in the hope it would result in more open and honest relationships. Harry was over the games. They weren’t sexy anymore, the older he got the worse his anxiety about people’s intentions became, and he was unable to cope with emotional mystery or aloofness. 

He rolled onto his side and kissed the top of Nina’s shoulder over the t-shirt of his she was wearing, her head turned to look at him.

“I’ll drive you to work in the morning,” He said slowly, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like you should leave in the middle of the night … I hadn’t planned on sex happening this soon but I don’t regret it either.”

“I don’t want to impose.” “I invited you over!” Harry chuckled incredulously, “And the more time I spend with you, the more time I want to spend with you.”

“Same,” Nina said quietly, her eyes darting away from his. 

Harry leant over and kissed her, holding her neck gently and then letting his hand sink down her opposite shoulder, leaving his arm draped around her in an innocent enough cuddle position. He didn’t want this woman to leave feeling regret. 

“Last night was fun,” Harry told her quietly, feeling the dark room and time provided a special place for honesty, “Can I call you when I’m in LA?”

“I hope you will,” Nina’s fingers danced along Harry’s forearm. “How long do you usually go for?”

“A few weeks, maybe less if I have something to come back for.”

“Something?”

Harry caught her fingers in his own, threading them together, “Something like a date, maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Well, a third date with you would obviously warrant a plane ticket home,” Harry hoped she could hear the smile in his voice.

+++

Nina doesn’t remember falling back asleep.

They ended up having sex again, a much more feverish and desperate act than the night before. The foreplay was quicker, and Nina completely lost herself, her thoughts free from the worry and uncertainty she always felt the first time with someone new. Harry ate her out in the most attentive and heated way, and she felt comfortable enough to return the favour. But he hadn’t been able to bear Nina’s mouth on him very long, he rushed to being inside her, citing not being able to stand not being inside her any longer. 

In the morning, she woke slowly, looking over to see Harry wearing glasses with a novel propped up against his chest. It was barely 7 am, and Nina watched him for a moment, something humming in her chest at the wholesomeness of him contently reading. 

“Morning,” She ended up saying, smiling at him when her voice puts a surprised little look on his face. 

He beamed back at her immediately, “Good morning, how did you sleep?”

“Good,” Nina stretched her arms out and squeezed her hands together, “This bed is heavenly.”

Harry closed the book and put it back on his bedside table, “It’s actually called The Heavenly, it’s one of the Westin ones.” “Like the hotel? You bought a mattress from a hotel?”

“Yes like the hotel,” Harry chuckled, sitting up further against the bedhead, “I stay in a lot of hotels, and they’re the best. They’re so good they sell the mattresses now.”

“How strange,” Nina could feel a pleasant tightness in all her muscles, she blushed if she wondered whether Harry could feel it in his body too. 

“I’ve put a spare towel in the bathroom for you,” Harry told her, “I’ve already showered. How do you like your coffee?”

+++

Harry waited rather impatiently in the kitchen.

He heard the shower go off nearly ten minutes ago and was expecting Nina to surface any moment. He was lending her a plain white t-shirt for the day, so she didn’t have to go to work wearing exactly the same outfit as the day before. Despite his past experiences Harry was trying very hard not to let his imagination get away with him, but he had such a good feeling about Nina, and already he was giddy with how much he liked her.

“I stole a spritz of your cologne,” Nina announced herself, walking into his kitchen wearing his shirt, her trousers and a fresh, happy expression. “I deliberately didn’t look at the name, so I can’t Google how many pounds I just spritzed onto myself later on. Also this t-shirt … I kind of hate you for giving me this plain white tee because now I know what an £80 Whistles t-shirt feels like and damn, it feels nice.”

Harry laughed at her, his coffee cup up to his lips, “You can keep the shirt, the fit is good on you. And the cologne is just something from Selfridges.” “There are very expensive things at Selfridges!” Nina came around to accept the coffee Harry was holding out for her, “Thanks.”

“Breakfast …” Harry put his mug down and pointed for her to sit up at the bench. He pulled out two forks and went to the fridge, pulling out the cake box and shutting the door with his hip, “… Is served.”

Nina’s face lit up, and she clapped her hands together, “Cake for breakfast!”

“Not just any cake,” Harry nudged her arm with his elbow when he sat up, tugging his stool along to be as close to Nina’s side as he could, she was already hacking at the dessert with a fork, “This is the best cake I’ve ever had.”

“Told you so,” Nina pulled her fork from her mouth and sighed, “This is the dream.”

Harry let their eye contact linger, “It really is.”

++

END

[ateezmakemeweep]

mingi x reader x wooyoung

word count: 25k

angst, smut

(part 1)

even before your relationship with wooyoung ended the way it did, you always wondered what drove people to cheat? did they just never care from the start, basing the relationship off lies and fake smiles, or did something happen down the line? 

were there problems that only one person could see and didn’t feel comfortable enough talking about to the other? did they feel neglected or unloved, like they needed to seek out that affection and validation elsewhere?

or did they really just have no regard for another person, selfishly occupied with their own pleasures and needs while realizing, maybe, they didn’t care if they hurt the person or not.

if you asked your ex-boyfriend, he’d say it was none of the above - he’d say that it simply just happened.

that one second, he was in love with you and the next, he somehow found himself in a whirlwind of kisses and touches behind closed doors with someone who wasn’t you.

that while he knew it was wrong and unfair to you, a part of him felt like he couldn’t stop. like he could keep up this affair of being a sweet, loving boyfriend but also someone another person found desirable and attractive.

enjoyed the rush and thrill of doing something forbidden, even though it felt wrong.

but of course, he didn’t tell you any of this; you hadn’t talked to him since he cried outside of his dorm building begging you for another chance. 

the same way you cried on the whole ride home and into your pillow that night, the night after that, and the night after that for about two whole months.

you can even admit, looking back at it now, eight months later, that you handled the breakup in a very cliche way: crying into a box of chocolates in bed and swearing that love didn’t exist. it was sad to you then, to believe so young that what you once felt was the best feeling in the world didn’t exist.

but the more time went on, the more you saw maybe you’d jumped the gun on that.

because just a few short weeks after the breakup, blocking wooyoung on every form of social media and telling your parents to never allow him in the house, you heard a knock at your door.

you approached it warily, eyeing the spray bottle on the counter and debating on arming yourself with that, before you saw a tall, familiar head through the glass window that definitely wasn’t your ex’s.

“how do you know where i live?” was the first question out of your mouth, not being able to keep the bite out of your tone or annoyance from crossing your face at mingi’s dejected form in front of you.

he had tried to talk to you the first few days after the incident, begging you to just hear him out and insist he never wanted you to feel stupid or in the dark; but that’s exactly how you felt. 

how could you not, after knowing everyone in wooyoung’s life knew about him and lisa except you? everyone who saw you and him together, looked you in the face and smiled at you two together, while also being fully aware of what him and another girl were doing.

“nice to see you too,” mingi said, his hand toying at the back of his hair nervously, an awkward smile creeping up on his face as he tries to lighten the tense mood.

but you’re only a few weeks out of the gate of being cheated on and humiliated, the boy in front of you harboring that information until it all blew it up in your face in the most upsetting way; so you can only roll your eyes and slam the door in his.

or at least attempt to, before his foot slips through the open space and halts it.

“y/n, wait-”

“no, mingi. i have nothing else to say to you.”

“i know and i don’t blame you,” the boy says, his soft, kind voice a stark contrast to his large, looming appearance. “but you deserve an apology. just give me ten minutes to try and explain.”

you bite the inside of your cheek as you look up at mingi, annoyance flooding through your veins as you’re tempted to tell him to go fuck himself. that no explanation is gonna excuse him harboring that knowledge for months. 

and he must know it too, because his face twists into one of remorse as he mutters a quietly spoken “please.”

and a small part of you knows he’s not the one who deserves this harsh reaction. he’s not the one who cheated and betrayed your trust; he had some allegiance to you, sure, being that he was your friend, but not as much as wooyoung did. 

he didn’t promise to love you and assure you there was nothing to worry about that. that he only had eyes for you and wouldn’t even think about betraying your trust or affections. he didn’t look you in the face and promise he’d never hurt you because he loved you more than anyone.

and even so, he looks almost as pathetic and desperate as your ex did when he was begging you for a second chance.

“five,” you snap shortly, backing away from the door and watching as mingi’s eyes light up in surprise.

he gives you a small smile that would usually soften your heart but only proves to make you raise an eyebrow, leading him to the living room where he fills you in on the truth about the past six months.

how when they first kissed at a random party, wooyoung was shitfaced and didn’t even remember the next morning; it was lisa showing him a picture her friend had snapped in the span of a few seconds that reminded him, guilt flooding through him as he told the girl that could never happen again.

but it did end up happening again. when wooyoung wasn’t shitfaced and lisa was there in his dorm alone.

“he said that lisa was crying, something about feeling alone and upset, because all her friends had boyfriend’s and she felt like a single loser,” mingi says, remembering how down and confused his roommate was the next day when he came home. “and then before he knew what happened, she leaned in and kissed him and he...”

mingi looks up to gauge your reaction and sees you’re just watching him blankly, cold, emotionless eyes that don’t give away the fact hearing this is making you wanna cry and scream all over again.

“he was conflicted,” is what mingi decides on saying. 

“not conflicted enough though,” you say, a mix of sadness and humor in your tone as you shake your head. “they were still fucking for two months after that.”

“they never fucked,” mingi is quick to clarify. 

you raise your eyebrow and he nods his head as if to say it’s really true, your teeth sinking into your cheek again.

“they kissed and did...other shit,” mingi says, not thinking you wanna hear that wooyoung accepted far too many blowjobs from the girl. “but they never fucked. he said he...couldn’t.”

“wow. what a guy.”

you can’t even try to keep the dryness out of your tone and it causes mingi to press his lips together so he doesn’t smirk, instead looking over your face and frowning when he notices your eyes are puffy.

“i didn’t say that so you take him back or anything,” mingi says quietly, “i just... he told me all of this and i said he had to stop. that it wasn’t fair to you, even if it was just kissing and blowjobs.”

you wince upon hearing it put so harshly, mingi cringing as he realizes he let the details slip out.

“sorry,” he mumbles, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head.

“it doesn’t matter. i’m over it.”

mingi’s eyebrow raises as he looks over your face again, not commenting on the puffiness under your eyes or the fact your hands are pressing into one another anxiously.

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you,” he says after a few silent moments, his voice laced with such sadness and sympathy you can’t help but meet his gaze. 

“i told him so many times to cut the shit, that it wasn’t fair and i was gonna tell you. but, really, a part of me felt like it wasn’t my place and i...i really just didn’t wanna make you sad,” he says, his voice and eyes honest and sweet even though you find his words incredibly stupid. 

“i know that’s so stupid,” the boy acknowledges, a dry, humorless tone in his voice. “but i almost...wanted him to get caught, you know? so you saw it firsthand and realized, like, your worth, i guess. even though seeing that would’ve made you sad too, so i... i guess i really just don’t fucking know. i didn’t know what to do.”

and you don’t know if it’s because of his rambling or the absurdity of the situation but you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you, air leaving your nose that has mingi looking at you in surprise.

“you’re right,” you say a smile quirking at your lips that has mingi looking over your face carefully. “that is stupid.” 

“but it’s also stupid to be mad at you, i guess,” you say when he looks down in embarrassment, emphasizing your last two words sarcastically as you sit back on the couch and look him over. “wooyoung was the one who was supposed to be loyal to me, not you.”

“but kind of me, too,” mingi says softly, his arm reaching out to pluck a piece a hair off your shoulder absentmindley. his touch is gentle and warm and his long fingers linger on your skin, the move shocking you as much as it comforts you.

mingi had been touchy and affectionate after just a few weeks of you knowing him, one to pull someone in for a hug or wrap an arm around their shoulder opposed to a stiff, clammy handshake. it was something you liked about him immediately, how warm and innocently affectionate he was.

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch his fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses mingi’s face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

you’ve never seen a smile as big as the one that crosses mingi’s face after you say that, his arm reaching out and pulling you into him; the boy really does underestimate his size and strength, though, dragging you right across the couch and straight into his hard body where he begins to stammer out more apologies.

“tell you what,” you say, craning your neck to look up at him. “the next time some asshole’s cheating on me, just tell me right away and i’ll accept these 200 apologies from you, yeah?”

“there’s not gonna be a next time,” mingi promises, his familiar scent and loud, happy voice bouncing off your living room walls. “because i’ll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts you again.”

you roll your eyes as you push him over on the couch, letting out one of your first genuine giggles in weeks as you watch him flop on the cushions like a fish out of water.

and you really think mingi’s what you got through the months that followed that conversation.

because if he wasn’t driving down every few weekends to hang out, you were texting and facetiming almost every hour of the day. 

he helped you through the rest of your senior year, when senioritis hit it’s peak and you all but refused to do any homework or projects. he was the first person you called when you needed motivation (or distractions), talking into the wee hours of the morning or falling asleep on facetime together.

he was also the first person you called when college acceptance letters came in, his deep, happy voice expressing how he knew you were gonna get in.

“and you’re gonna go to the one only thirty minutes away from me, yeah?” he asked playfully, your eyes rolling as you plopped down on your bed.

“yeah, right,” you giggle out, looking over the three pamphlets as you, really, try to consider how to even begin the process of choosing.

that’s another thing mingi ended up helping you with, weighing the pros and cons of each school with you and even suggesting you drive up to him so you can tour the college close to his.

you don’t know for sure but maybe that’s why you ended up accepting that offer, after seeing the beautiful campus in person, the friendly students and ‘spacious’ dorm rooms that looked a whole lot better than two out of state schools you’d have to wait until the summer to see.

but if you asked mingi, he’d say it was absolutely because of him - because now you could see him every day. now he could easily help move you in and bring you lunch and show you the spots off campus where they never check ids or question a bad fake.

and while all of those were certainly helpful, you especially liked that, when classes started up and nearly knocked you on your ass, mingi was there to help you some more.

“you said professors were nice!” you squealed, hitting him in the arm as you two walked into a coffee shop smack in the middle of your two colleges; it’s also the coffee shop you waited pathetically in this past valentine’s day, but you try to let that painful memory slip your mind.

“hey! i’m sorry, most of them are!” mingi defends, his eyes widening and a laugh nearly bursting from his mouth when he sees the five syllabuses you throw onto the table.

“oh? then what is this?”

and sure enough, almost every class lists required textbooks costing over $150, several papers throughout the year, and a strict two-absence policy that will result in a whole letter grade drop if broken.

“and then if we miss because of a death in the family, we have to bring proof! what kind of sick shit is that?” you squeak, arms flying and eyes nearly bulging out of your head; if you were already this fucked after only a week of classes, you don’t even wanna know how you’re gonna be when real work starts.

mingi takes a hold of your arms to stop your flailing, his large, warm hands seeping through the sleeves of your shirt causing you to look up at him.

“babe...you gotta calm down.”

you don’t remember when he started dropping little pet names like that, or when his touches got more frequent and lingered, but you only know it’s something you guys don’t comment on. how, sometimes, both of you can even hear the others fastened heartbeat if you’re close enough or will meet gazes before shyly looking away.

you look up at him with a pout, the teasing smirk on his handsome face making you wanna stomp on his foot.

“i don’t wanna take a picture with my grandma’s corpse,” you whine, knowing that if anyone were watching you both right now, they’d think you were nuts.

“and you won’t have to,” mingi says, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from his mouth that causes you to smack his arm roughly. “why are you hitting me!” he yelps, a soft, amused smile on his face. “i’m trying to help you.”

and because you’re whining and he’s laughing, amused eyes locked on one another while his hands run up and down your arms soothingly, you both miss the fact that someone was around to see you both.

someone watching with hard eyes and a sinking heart at hearing your familiar laugh, at seeing your eyes twinged with amusement and happiness looking at someone who isn’t him.

but he knows he doesn’t deserve to see that anymore. that he ruined that chance with you and he shouldn’t even be surprised that you were able to move on to someone better.

even if that someone was his friend, a fact that’s making his blood boil right about now.

“you good?”

yeosang’s voice pierces wooyoung’s ears the second they leave the coffee shop, a knowing look on the boy’s face as the other can only shrug.

“yeah,” wooyoung says quietly, looking back through the window to see you dragging mingi to the counter by the hand. 

your touches look comfortable and familiar, like you’d spent weeks, or even months, growing closer to one another; he knows that it takes you a while to warm up to people, only letting a select few in - which now probably worsened after the shit he did.

with that knowledge, he also knows that it doesn’t even matter if he wasn’t good (which he’s not, he feels it in the way his chest is aching and veins are burning) because he knew it was a mistake. 

he knew sneaking around and lying to you was leading him down a path that would cost him the best thing that ever happened to him. he was the one suffering without you while you’re, apparently, able to move on.

and evidently, he’s also the one whose always been selfish - hoping that there’s a way you’ll somehow forgive him and see that, even though he wronged you, a part of him still wants you.

and he always gets what he wants.

“y/n, c’mon pleaseeee.” 

it’s the eighth time mingi whined that sentence to you over the phone this week, a sigh leaving your mouth as you smack your hands onto your comforter. 

“mingi, i’ve said the same thing for the past four days! what makes you think my answer’s gonna be any different tonight?”

the first month of school had, admittedly, kicked your ass. 

it wasn’t even that the work was challenging or daunting, you liked what you were learning and you even made a few friends in your classes, but it just feels like you’ve never gotten a moment to yourself since this all started.

if you’re not surrounded by classmates or your roommate, you’re working at the coffee shop you and mingi frequented so much, they offered you a job. but with your roommate gone this weekend and you not on the work schedule till sunday evening, you intended to spend the next two days in bed.

catching up on shows, taking naps in between, taking some time to catch up on reading -  you were only gonna move when your bladder and stomach begged you to, not a tall, whiney man.

“because i’m begging,” mingi sighs, knowing with 100% certainty you’re already curled up in bed with your laptop in front of you. “how many fucking times are you gonna rewatch love alarm?”

your mouth drops open as your eyes fall to the screen, jojo and sun-oh’s faces staring back at yours causing your cheeks to flush; how the hell did he know that first of all?

“until season two comes out,” you whine back, a laugh bubbling out of his mouth before he sighs. you roll your eyes at the sound, pushing yourself to your feet to grab water from the mini fridge. “if you wanna hang out so bad, come over tonight and watch with me.”

“you know i would but i already told people i was coming,” he explains, a pout on his face he wishes you could see in an effort to persuade you (even though you’d probably just curl your lip in disgust). 

“then have fun and enjoy! i’ll be watching sun-oh whisk jojo away and-”

“i know why you don’t wanna go.”

the words die in your throat just as you hear him say that, his voice low and sympathetic that has you poking your tongue into your cheek; he only uses that voice when he thinks you’re about to be upset by something. 

and it’s not hard for you to gather what he’s thinking, given that he wants you to go to your ex-boyfriend’s campus party. 

“if you’re thinking what i think you’re thinking, then you’re wrong.”

because if he has this notion that you don’t wanna run into wooyoung, then yes, he’s wrong. sure, you don’t wanna particularly see him, but it’s been months. you’re over him and you know he’s over you, there’d be no reason to alter your life in hopes to avoid him. 

“what do you think i’m thinking?”

“we’re not doing this, mingi,” you groan, pushing yourself away from the counter and heading right toward your warm bed. “i’m not going for no other reason than i wanna stay in my bed for the next two days. you can come over after if you want but i’m not setting foot in that disgusting frat house. have fun and don’t drink too much!”

and with that, you hang up and crawl under the blankets with a content smile on your face. 

one that drops when you hear a knock on your door thirty minutes later, already knowing by the distinct pattern that it’s no other than the boy you hung up at the start of your episode. 

“that was a quick party,” you say when you open the door, leaning against the frame as you stare at mingi with a raised eyebrow. 

he looks the same way he did during the conversation that rekindled your friendship, his hand toying at the back of his hair and a nervous smile on his face. 

“yeah...” he laughs out awkwardly, the stare he’s giving you causing you to shake your head immediately. 

“you didn’t go, did you?”

“no. i wanted to pick you up first.”

he sees fury cross your face and your arm reaching out to smack him, his hand quickly catching it and pulling you into him.

“c’monnn, we’ll only stay for an hour. and then we’ll come back here and finish love alarm for the 700th time.” 

your eyebrows narrow at you stare up at the boy, so annoyed at him ruining your night you don’t even realize how close your bodies are pressed up against one another. his hard, toned chest against yours that would, without a doubt, make you flush if you realized. 

“please,” he whines, a pout on his face as he tightens his hold on you. “i don’t wanna go alone, i told them i was bringing a friend. and i miss you. we haven’t seen each other in a few days and-

“just shut up,” you growl, pulling him in your room by his shirt because you just know he’s fucking relentless. you close your laptop begrudgingly, throwing him a dirty look before you go to the closet to change out of your sweatpants. 

“you should wear the jeans with the-”

the look you throw his way immediately causes him to stop talking, a smirk crossing your face as you turn away and curse him out in your head for looking so handsome, maybe you couldn’t resist walking in with him tonight. 

but you also couldn’t resist the way your eyes roamed the crowded frat house forty minutes later, the familiar scent of alcohol and sweat invading your senses. 

there’s just as many people as last year when you came, a sticky cluster of bodies that is all too off putting when you were just bound to your bed in pajamas and fuzzy socks. 

you’re also all too aware of the setting that’s giving you flashbacks, beer pong tables and what seems like dozens of pretty girls with dark hair littering the house - it’s making you far more uncomfortable than you care to admit.

“y/n,” you hear a voice say, your neck turning toward the male presence. it takes you a few seconds to remember who he is, attractive features you remember thinking were so regal causing you to smile politely. 

“you should tell him it bothers you,” you hear yeosang say, looking over at the boy with a wide eyed gaze. he says it so straight forwardly that it causes you to grow nervous, biting your lip before you open your mouth to speak.

“what?”

he raises his eyebrow and you know he’s seeing through your lie. the lie that you’re not all bothered by being here and watching him play with another girl. a girl you’re almost positive has ill-intentions. and now you see where yeosang’s bluntness comes in.

“that him and lisa make you uncomfortable,” yeosang tells you, looking over and seeing them smile at one another in victory. “because you’re worried, aren’t you?”

it’s the first time it’s been verbalized and it makes your stomach squeeze painfully, sadness and anger and disappointment flooding through you. 

“should i be?” you squeak, since you know he sees you them a lot more than you.

“i don’t know,” he says, the both of you looking over in time to see lisa smack wooyoung’s arm playfully as she throws her head back. “should you be?”

that was the first and only conversation you had with the boy and yet he hinted more to you than anyone else in your life at the time; granted it was still early in but he had obviously saw something, too.

maybe a suspicious glint in wooyoung’s eye, lingering over lisa despite your presence a few feet away. maybe he could tell you weren’t gonna be enough to keep him loyal, maybe he-

you shake your head of these thoughts, reminding yourself that you’re over this.

you’re over him and the way he made you feel and everything about the whole breakup entirely; why would you want someone who, when it came down to it, didn’t want you back?

“hi, yeosang,” you say with a sweet smile, mingi greeting the shorter boy before someone else pulls his attention away. you let out a sigh and roll your eyes, a deep chuckle leaving the boy who pats the seat next to him.

he’s not surprised to see you but he is surprised that you came here tonight, of all places. where he knows wooyoung is lingering and knows when he sees you, he’s gonna come over with sorrow in his eyes and a voice to match. 

ever since the breakup, yeosang had been the one there for wooyoung. he knew what the boy was doing was wrong, and he felt bad for you, but he also knew wooyoung could do anything and he’d still be there for him.

he could disagree with him and find his actions and decisions questionable but in the end, he’d be there for him. 

that’s why he saw and tended to the breakdown wooyoung went through after everything happened. watched the boy become a shell of the person he’d been,  no longer happy and bubbly and, instead, drowning his sorrows with alcohol when he wasn’t doing the bare minimum for school.

yeosang had to tell him more often than not, with some tough love, that he had ruined everything between you two. and for him to wish that he could talk to you or get another chance was incredibly selfish. 

but through all of that, he was there for him. would stop him from drinking himself into a coma or take him out of the house to distract him any chance he got. 

especially because a few weeks after everything, mingi had started distancing himself. the boys had still lived together until the semester ended in may, but it’d been obvious the boy wasn’t as...tolerant of wooyoung as he was. 

and now he sees why. with the way mingi’s soft eyes are looking at you from across the room, watching closely as you sit down next to him and send a polite smile his way.

“so what, you loved these parties so much you decided to come to school here?” yeosang smiles teasingly, a deep chuckle leaving him when your face turns into a grimace.

you tell him how you go to the school just a half hour away, how it was the only school you were able to tour in person and how, with sinking suspicions, that mingi played a big role in you coming here.

“my roommate is so nice though,” you share with him, a happy smile on your face as you tell him about the girl whose face piercings and dark makeup are a complete contrast to her sweet, soft-spoken personality; you remember thinking when you first met that she was gonna rip your head off, especially because you came in jabbering with an even more excitable mingi.

but she loved him and you immediately and as far as roommates went, you couldn’t be happier. 

“and i work at a coffee shop now. i was a little thrown off the first few weeks but i think i’ve finally adjusted,” you giggle out, a small smirk on his face that you find far too endearing.

“that’s good,” yeosang says before he reluctantly adds, “i’ve seen you working there a few times.”

“oh?” 

your eyebrows pull together as you cock your head to the side in confusion; you’d never seen him in there before. and you think you would’ve recognized him immediately, even outside of this sleazy frat house. 

“yeah, the first week of classes we were there and saw you and mingi,” he says, “then i went back and saw you working behind the counter.”

you don’t comment on the we, because you have a good feeling about who he’s talking about, so you only nod and smile, telling him to say hi next time and you’ll give him a cookie on the house. 

“i know she didn’t just offer you a free cookie,” mingi says, plopping down next to you and throwing his arm around you. “i ask all the time and she laughs in my face.”

“because you come in every day!” you squeal, smacking in the stomach lightly. “they’d go broke and i’d be fired.”

“you’re a grimy fuck to even ask,” yeosang says, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth at the look on mingi’s face. you listen to the boys bicker back and forth as your eyes roam the room, everything about the scene so familiar but also different. 

you don’t feel uncomfortable or nervous for the same reasons you did a year ago, when the music was too loud and the scent was overwhelming and there were just too many people.

now you’re uncomfortable and nervous about just who’s lingering in this crowd, like you’re about to be met with something, or someone rather, that’s gonna hurt you. 

even though you’ve convinced yourself that you’re okay and you won’t care. you won’t care in the slightest if you see lisa under wooyoung’s arm across the room, if you see now that those months really did mean something to them and they were able to prevail.

nope. it won’t bother you at all; in fact, you think two people like that probably deserve each other.

but your roaming eyes say otherwise. the nervous knot in the pit of your stomach and the way you press yourself closer to mingi (in a way he doesn’t comment on but welcomes) says if you see them together, you might lose your shit just a little bit. 

“you good?” mingi asks lowly in your ear, his large hand falling onto your knee. you feel the warmth through your jeans and the indents of his rings against your leg, looking up at him with a forced, tight smile.

“i’d be better if i was in bed like i planned,” you say through clenched teeth, a deadly look in your eye that should make him fearful but just makes him laugh.

“oh, c’mon, aren’t you having fun? you got to see your old friend-”

“yeosang.”

and like the universe was showing mingi just how much fun it was allowing you to have tonight, a voice that makes your blood run cold finishes mingi’s sentence.

your eyes snap to the boy you haven’t seen in over eight months, a face that once made you so stupidly happy with his wide smile and sparkling eyes; you remember when you first met him, you were so confused by the look them. 

why he looked at you so fondly and made your heart flutter even though it shouldn’t have been.

and that’s the exact feeling you’re getting right now, seeing the boy who, the last time you looked at him was crying and begging and desperate, look at you with glossed over eyes and not a hint of a smile.

“hey, woo,” yeosang says, noticing his friend’s lingering gaze and your obvious discomfort; he doesn’t think an atmosphere has ever gotten so tense so fast. 

it takes him a second to stutter out the response “hi,” his eyes moving from yours to mingi’s hand on your leg before back to you. you can’t help the way you quirk an eyebrow at him, almost daring him to say something about mingi’s hands on you before he shakes it off and looks to yeosang.

you only listen to the boys speak as you look down at your feet, mingi’s arm tightening around you when you start to wiggle them. it’s a nervous habit he’s picked up on after these months of getting to know you and, apparently, he’s not the only one who remembers it.

“you do that every time i sit next to you.”

you peer up at the senior who’s insisted on spending lunch with you for the past three weeks, the ever-present teasing smile on his cocky face making your eyebrows pull together.

“do what?”

he nods his head down to the floor where you’re tapping away, toes wiggling in your shoes as the balls of your feet bounce up and down slightly. 

your cheeks flush and you shrug your shoulders, not wanting him to know that, while you’re confused by his company, it doesn’t make you any less aware of how attractive he is. doesn’t make the stupid little crush you’ve developed on him any less intense or you any less nervous.

“oh,” you say quietly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks that makes his teasing smile widen. 

“yeah, oh,” he mocks, his eyes lighting up with amusement you know it’s directed toward you. you narrow yours at him but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest, his foot hitting yours under the table playfully. 

“it’s okay, i think i just make you a little nervous.”

“nervous?” you ask, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head. “why on earth would i be nervous?”

and with a playful cock of his head, a smile on his face that only grew softer and sweeter over time, he so boldly said “because you like me too, don’t you?”

you catch wooyoung looking at your feet and immediately stop bouncing them, putting your right sneaker over your left before looking up at mingi with a small smile. 

“i’m gonna go get a drink.”

“i’ll come with-”

“it’s fine, it’s right there,” you say, nodding your head into the kitchen only a few feet away. 

you leave before mingi can even respond, quickly getting up and scurrying away from the tense atmosphere you know is partially because of you. you need to just get away from all of that for a second, knowing that this was a possibility tonight but didn’t think it would happen so fast.

it’s easy to think you’re over something when you’re not presented directly with it but, now, seeing him makes all those masked feelings come to the surface.

how hurt and betrayed and upset you were by what he did. how you tried to convince yourself that you were over everything simply because you know you deserve better; and while you know that, it still doesn’t quell the memories.

doesn’t stop you from thinking about the nights before he went away to school, the two of you under the stars when he assured you he loved you and didn’t wanna break up with you. teased you for thinking he’d wanna break up with his high school girlfriend when he went off to college.

“i don’t wanna break up,” you whimpered against him, your hands fisting his grey sweatshirt as you hid your face in his neck. he pressed a kiss to your head, bringing a hand to your back as he rubbed up and down soothingly.

“who said anything about breaking up, my love?” he cooed, the term of endearment causing your stomach to swoop. 

“i-i just assumed you wouldn’t wanna be with your high school girlfriend in college,” you say quietly against him. “it would make sense, i guess, so i can’t say i blame you but-”

he brings your face to his as he places a firm kiss on your lips, melting into you as he palms your cheek softly. you kiss him back immediately, feeling your heart break at the thought of never being able to do this again.

“i don’t know why you’re thinking like that,” he mumbles once he pulls back, running his hand through your hair before tucking the strands behind your ear. “but get those thoughts out of your head. i’m not breaking up with you, baby. in case you forgot, i just told you i loved you the other day.”

“i know but-”

“but what?” he asks with a smirk, pushing you down on your back and rubbing the stray tear off your cheek. “you think i just say shit to say it?”

“no, but-”

“then stop. i’ll tell everyone at college i have a high school girlfriend and they won’t have shit to say about it.”

it doesn’t stop you from remembering how much his voice and eyes used to calm you, how, in a setting like this, one look from him would completely put you at ease and make you feel better. 

“y/n.”

you immediately grow tense at wooyoung’s voice saying your name, not having heard it fall from his lips in what felt like forever. 

you’re debating whether you even wanna turn around and look at him again, knowing you can just go on your way and completely ignore him. knowing you should go on your way and completely ignore him.

but instead you turn to him and give him a blank look, waiting for him to say something else before you turn back and rummage through the cooler for a soda. your hand searches through the freezing ice for a red can of coke, the tips of your fingers growing numb as you fish through the water.

partially because you can’t find one and partially because you don’t wanna turn back around and face him.

“you drink now?” 

your neck cranes up to look at wooyoung, his eyes soft and curious as he looks down at you. you hate how your body still responds to him, how he still looks so handsome but also like he lost a little bit of weight. 

you hate how a part of you is concerned about that, wondering if he hasn’t been eating well or is doing drugs harder than pot.

“no,” is all you say shortly, deeming your efforts for a soda useless and shaking the wetness off your hand. your eyes fall to his empty ones and you raise an eyebrow, surprised not to see some sort of can of alcohol near him. 

“i don’t really drink anymore,” he offers after a few silent seconds, your eyes raising to his before mingi’s voice plays in your mind - “wooyoung was so shitfaced the first time they kissed, he didn’t even remember. he didn’t know until lisa showed him a picture.”

“i didn’t really ask,” you say before you can stop yourself, his face falling before a sigh leaves his mouth. 

“i guess i deserve that,” he mumbles lowly, your teeth sinking into your cheek before you turn to leave. 

you begin to wonder why mingi and yeosang let him follow you in the first place before you feel a hand lightly touch the back of your arm, your neck snapping back and arm pulling away when he mutters your name pleadingly. 

“how have you-”

“we’re not doing this.”

“i just wanna talk, y/n,” he says quietly, the sad desperation obvious in his tone. “i haven’t seen or talked to you in months.”

“and why is that, woo?” 

you don’t even mean for the nickname to fall from your lips but it does, twists his stomach in a way that makes him feel even more shitty and defeated and guilty. 

tears prick your eyes as you realize you haven’t said that name since febuary, his own softened gaze on you making you shake your head and take a step back. 

“if we could just talk for a few-”

“we’re not doing this,” you repeat firmly, taking a step away from his looming presence. “i wasn’t even supposed to come tonight.”

“but you came with...mingi?” he asks lowly, like spitting the boy’s name out was the hardest thing he had to do in months. 

but you bet what you had to do over these past few months was harder. 

finish school while also dealing with the heartbreak that comes with being betrayed in such an awful way. building back up your confidence and worth and trying so hard to convince yourself you didn’t do anything wrong. 

that’s why you narrow your eyes at him and shake your head, holding back the slew of curse threatening to leave your mouth. 

“yeah. i did,” you say confidently, your eyes roaming back to mingi to see him making his way over to you. “and i’m sure there’s someone waiting around here for you, too.”

you watch his face crumble and mouth open to speak but you’re quick to shake your head and walk to mingi, rage filling your chest when you feel wooyoung’s warm, strong hand grab you by the wrist.

“y/n, wait-”

“don’t touch me,” you spit out, ripping your arm away from him harshly. 

you can see he regrets the movement the second you look at him but can’t find it in yourself to care, giving him one last look before walking over to mingi - his face, too, is apologetic but much more fearful than your ex’s.

“he said he was going over to-”

“love alarm. now. before i bash your head in and never agree to anything ever again.”

“we’ll pick up snacks,” he says, a hesitant, happy smile creeping up on his face despite your unwavering expression. “my treat.”

“no shit your treat,” you grumble, your hand snaking through mingi’s larger one as you pull him out of the frat house into the cool, fall air. 

it’s the much needed crispness you need after the sweaty, tense air you were just subjected to, you and mingi hand in hand as you walk to his car parked a few blocks away. 

there’s only a few moments of silence before he addresses the elephant in the room.

“did he say something to you?”

you look up to see mingi staring at you with a soft expression, a sigh leaving your mouth as you nod your head. he stops you both from walking, his hand moving to your hip as you two stand in the street.

there’s a soft glow on him cast from the street light, his eyes roaming your face making his heart pang in your chest. he can see your tense and upset right now, your lips rolling over one another like when you’re trying not to cry or scream.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, a question that would usually make you roll your eyes making your face soften; you know the boy has his faults, a little confused and naive and doesn’t always make the right choices, but he always means well.

he truly cares for people and doesn’t like seeing them sad.

“i’m okay,” you confirm with a small nod, a tiny smile pulling at your lips. “i...it’s over now, you know. it’s different seeing him after all this time. harder than i thought, really, but it doesn’t matter anymore.”

mingi nods his head as he squeezes your hip lightly, taking your hand back in his. they swing playfully in between your bodies, a touch that seems very juvenile and platonic filling you with a warmth you don’t think you should be feeling yet. 

you told yourself to wait a year. you even heard somewhere that, for as long as you’ve been with someone in your younger years, you should try to be single for the same amount of time afterward.

take a moment to focus on yourself and ‘soul search’ for the things you want in life.

but having mingi by your side has made that goal harder, or maybe easier depending on how you look at it; especially because his touches linger and make you want more. his eyes watch you so softly and the smile that lights up his face when he first sees you makes you happier than you’ve been in a while. 

“we’re not friends with her anymore.” 

you don’t expect him to say that but it makes your eyes widen. 

because for as long as you guys have discussed wooyoung and the situation, neither of you have ever addressed lisa directly. where she is now or if they remained friends - you told him a million times that you didn’t care.

and even after seeing wooyoung tonight, you want that to still ring true; but again, your actions don’t match your thoughts.

“oh?”

“yeah. a few weeks after that happened, woo refused to be in the same room as her. said it made him sick.”

a scornful laugh threatens to leave your mouth at that, since the last time you’d seen them together, their tongues were down each other’s throats and he was mostly definitely not sick by it.

“anytime we were with her and her friends, he’d leave and say he didn’t wanna be around her. then he just started to avoid us so we eventually just cut them all off. we didn’t really like them anyway, to be honest.”

it takes you a few moments to process his words but it proves to just be too much for your emotionally drained, distraught mind.

“why are you telling me this?”

mingi’s hand tightens ever so slightly on yours as you two continue to walk, his thumb rubbing against your cold skin as the silence remains. 

you can only hear the gravel beneath your feet and the last few cicadas that can stand the crip fall weather, looking ahead in the darkness and wondering if he’s ever gonna answer you. 

“because he’s waiting for you.”

your feet halt and you look up at him, eyes wide and shocked as he looks down at you. you can’t quite make out the expression on his face, maybe something like fear or hesitance that makes your heart lurch. 

“he...told yeosang he wants you to forgive him. and to give him another chance.”

a little bit of every emotion rips through you at this knowledge, rage and annoyance and outrage but also a little bit of sadness you’re not ready to address.

“he’s got balls, i’ll give him that,” you mutter, a smirk quirking on mingi’s lips as he nods his head. he doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything, torn between his lasting bits of loyalty to wooyoung but his feelings for you. 

because over these past few months, he’s wanted nothing more than to kiss you and hug you and make you see you can trust him - not only as a friend but a boyfriend. 

a much better boyfriend than the one you had; but he understands you need a friend and he’s okay with that - more than okay, really. though the looks you give him make his heart pound just a little harder, like when you lean your head on his shoulder during a movie or play with his fingers until you fall asleep on his lap. 

“but...i think there’s better people out there for me,” you say quietly, head cocked to the side as you start to toy with his long fingers. it’s flirty and daring and maybe a little vengeful after your conversation with wooyoung but you also know it’s genuine. 

that the feelings you have for mingi and the way he makes your chest warm is very much so real. 

“don’t you think?”

a smile lights up his face and he has to tell his heart to calm down before it explodes, a knowing glint in his eye as he looks over your face and nods his head. 

“i do think,” he says, tapping you on the tip of your nose in a way that makes you giggle. you watch as he turns and bends down, a smile lighting up your face as you immediately move to jump on his back.

“now what snacks do you want for tonight, little one?”

the next three weekends you’re deemed safe from any college parties, either your shifts at the coffee shop or mingi’s school work keeping you free from his whining or incessant phone calls.

but the second you heard a knock on your door one saturday night, your movie on in the background and popcorn popping in the microwave, something tells you that you’re fucked. that you’ve steered clear of that sticky, overcrowded house for far too long, and it’s like the tall, handsome boy at your door has realized it. 

“you’ve evaded me long enough.”

“sadly, i don’t agree,” you respond dryly, a smirk on the boy’s face as he lets himself in before you can close the door. you let out a groan as he helps himself to your freshly cooked bag of popcorn, throwing the pieces in his mouth as he tells you to get dressed. 

“now why would i do that?” you ask, hands on your hips and a snippy tone already in your voice. 

but it doesn’t deter mingi in the slightest; if anything, it almost eggs him on even more. his eyes squinting before he abandons the popcorn and charges toward you, large hands gripping your waist as he guides you to your closet and tells you to change.

the deep, commanding tone in his voice should make you angry. it should make you roll your eyes and tell him he’s not the boss of you. that you have no intentions of going out and he could either leave or stay for the movie. 

but it’s the contrast of that and the sweet look in his eye that always gets you. how he can be tough and commanding but then cute and playful. 

it’s always what gets that feeling of electric between you, his body looming over yours and eyes staring up at one another challengingly. a part of you always wants to tell him to fuck off but then know you wouldn’t be able to handle the sad, mildly pathetic look on his face. 

“it’s halloween-themed. but no costumes,” he says, tightening his hold on you and toying with the ends of your white t-shirt. “so match with me.”

your hands travel to his broad shoulders, his muscles under your hands affecting you far more than you’re leading on. a part of you wants to feel just how warm and soft his skin is, trail your finger over his collarbone until he groans or warns you to watch it. 

your nails dig into his back ever so slightly, your brow cocked and head turned to the side as you slowly start to step closer to him. his knees hit your bed frame just as you push him back, his butt plopping on your comforter as you stand in between his legs.

“no,” is all you say, a knowing smirk on your face as you watch his eyes flame with something like arousal and disbelief. 

he shakes his head and watches you walk to your closet, throwing himself back on your bed with a silent groan and a plea that, tonight, you don’t push him too much. 

but a few hours into the night, a few too many beers in mingi and your own growing attraction toward him has the night leading in that direction. 

you knew mingi was a good dancer, something you learned at one of these parties last year. it was the only thing that made you smile on those nights actually, watching the boy go from bumping and grinding to jumping around like a kid with a sugar high.

and lucky for you, tonight, he was going with the former. his body placed behind yours, not a stitch of alcohol coursing through your veins, as you guys dance and giggle and and talk to a few people from his classes. 

it’s something very casual, nothing innately sexual about your moves other then your bodies are close and you can feel his groin against you. but you’re both just moving to the beat, your head thrown back on his shoulder as a girl tells you all about mingi’s public speaking skills, or lack thereof. 

“he gets sooo red it’s actually kind of cute,” she tells you, the wink she throws your way making you both share a smirk; because anyone with eyes can see that, embarrassed or not, terrible at public speaking or not, he’s cute. 

“ehh, he’s okay,” you tease lightly, his hold on your waist tightening. you squeal when his cold hand touches the sliver of skin exposed from your shirt, elbowing him lightly before turning around and poking at his cheek. 

“what?”

“i’m okay?” he mocks, the look on his flushed face making you giggle into him. 

“well, what do you want me to say?” you ask, cocking your head to the side in a way you know is gonna cause trouble. but you wanna push him to that point, the excited warmth fluttering in your chest when he looks at you in a way that makes you feel wanted.

you hadn’t been able to see it at first, mingi’s clear affection and liking toward you meanwhile he thinks it was there even when you were with wooyoung; but of course, he knew better than to act on it, watching your smile and laugh from afar and hoping that wooyoung knew how lucky he was.

because he’s pretty sure since the moment he met you, when you came in holding wooyoung’s hand with a small, shy smile on you flushed face, he even wanted you then.

but now, it’s like the roles have switched. now, there’s a very drunken, very pissed off wooyoung standing across the room wishing he could be the taller boy.

he’d been watching you two since the moment you arrived, what sparked the alcohol he guzzled down in a matter of a few hours after he told himself he was done drinking.

yeosang told him to stop drinking beers so he moved to shots and that’s why he’s currently stumbling around and muttering under his breath, already the defeated, shitfaced boy no one wants to be at a public event.

he knows he shouldn’t feel it, the anger brewing inside his chest at seeing you and mingi pressed up one another flirting. but he is. he’s so fucking mad and jealous and seething, it’s only a matter of time before the slightest bit of sanity he has left breaks. 

makes him stomp over and grab you in a way he knows isn’t right. in a way he knows will make you hate him even more; but maybe that’s why he does it. just completely self destructing because seeing you again, and seeing you with someone else, has really put things into perspective for him.

that he’s not the sweet, perfect boyfriend he thought he was and, instead, someone very flawed and toxic. someone who hurt you and is now expecting a second chance solely because he loves you. 

someone who, after seeing his ex girlfriend try to move on and build up her confidence again, ends up stumbling over and grabbing her by the arm anyway. 

one second you’re looking up at mingi and smiling and the next your neck nearly snaps off, looking down at the tight grip on your arm as you hear a familiar voice growl to the taller boy that you and him need a minute. 

you don’t know why or how mingi allows it to happen but suddenly, you’re outside. the cold air surrounding you does nothing to calm your burning veins, ripping your arm from wooyoung’s grasp and pushing him back with all the strength you could muster.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask, not even have spotted the boy all night. “i told you not to touch me.”

“i know you did. and i know you hate me. and i also know i deserve that but-”

“no shit,” you snap, taking a step backward and looking the boy up and down who you barely recognize right now. he still looks like the person you once loved but his demeanor is so incredibly different, eyes hazy and bloodshot from the alcohol you can smell on his breath. 

“i miss you,” he mutters lowly, the drunken slur to his words making your stomach twist. “i just...i just wanna talk, y/n and if you still-”

“i don’t wanna talk to you.”

and if wooyoung was sober and in the right frame of mind, he wouldn’t have approached you to begin with. he wouldn’t have dared put his hands on you again and begged you for a second chance like he did that fateful afternoon.

but because he’s a mess, because he’s been a mess for the past several months, he looms over you and keeps his eyes on you as the next words leave him.

“but you wanna talk to mingi?”

“don’t you dare start that shit,” you spit out, every angry, red-hot emotion searing up in your veins - but you’re happy it’s not tears, at least. you think if you cried in this man’s presence again, you’d have to hide away for the rest of your life. “you don’t get to do that.”

“i don’t get to feel jealous that i can’t talk to the girl i lov-”

and similar to the slap you gave him that day, when you walked in and saw another girl in his lap, you can’t stop yourself when you do it this time either. have him taint that word and feeling for you anymore than he did when he lied to your face for months.

“it’s your fucking fault, wooyoung. you did this. you cheated on me and completely proved that that’s not true,” you snap, anger-filled eyes burning into his. “so don’t say that to me.”

“you don’t know what i feel,” he counters lowly, a slur to his words that has you knowing this is not the time for this conversation.” i’m telling the truth.” 

he stumbles closer to you and you’re so focused on staring him down that you don’t see his hand move to your waist. 

“you don’t know how much i fucking regret it. please, baby, if you’d just-”

“get away from me.”

“get away from me,” you say, attempting to rip your hands from his grasp. but he only tightens them and brings you closer to him.

“just please, give me five fucking minutes, y/n, so we can finally-”

“if you just listen to me, maybe you’ll-”

“stop,” you say, struggling to pull your hands free. you need to get away from him. you can’t hear him sound this pathetic and sad and begging.

“stop. let go of me, wooyoung,” you say, voice firm and strong despite how shaky and upset you’re getting on the inside. the familiarity of this scene is too much, his desperate pleas and your building sadness and hurt making a lump form in your throat.

“did you know i was drunk when it first happened?” he slurs out, his glossy eyes looking at you with such pathetic desperation. “i didn’t even know what the fuck happened the next morning. i didn’t remember anything, not even how i got home.”

you swallow down any response regarding the first incident, feeling tears burn your eyes as you shake your head at him; you can see she completely took advantage of him but...

“but what about the time after that? and then the time after that?” you ask, watching as his face falls and you feel heart break in a way it hasn’t in months; he may be telling the truth about the first time but if that really were the case, it wouldn’t have happened when he was stone cold sober on a friday morning. 

“what about those two months after, wooyoung?” you voice aloud, begging the tears behind your eyes not to fall. “were you shitfaced then?”

“no but i-”

“exactly,” you spit out. “you knew what you were doing then. so get the fuck off me and leave me alone.”

“i can’t, please just-”

“wooyoung, stop.”

it’s mingi’s deep voice that pulls you and wooyoung out of the heated discussion, your ex tightening his hold on you and attempting to pull you behind him. 

he doesn’t wanna lose you yet, you’ve been gone for months. even if you’re fighting and even if you hate him, he’s selfish and he needs you. he wants you still. 

“you stop, mingi,” wooyoung growls, a new type of anger flooding through him. he releases his grip on you and stumbles toward the much taller boy, seemingly unfazed by the size difference as he shoves him back.

“if anyone should be pissed here, it’s me. stealing my fucking girl like some little bitch.”

“she’s not your girl anymore,” mingi says lowly, his eyes and body tense as he stares down wooyoung. “if you weren’t shitfaced right now, you’d remember that. and you’d remember why.”

“you’re such a-”

“enough, woo,” you say quietly, the nickname that rendered him hurt three weeks ago when you said it making him snap his head back to look at you; and before you can see his softened, glossy eyes, you warn him to never do this again before you turn to go home. 

you hear footsteps follow behind the whole way, knowing that it’s mingi and knowing that his head is probably trained on his feet right now. you don’t stop walking until you’re at his car in the campus parking lot, leant against the side and looking up at him for the first time in twenty minutes.

he sees unshed tears in your eyes and his face immediately crumbles, about to take you in his arms when you hold out your arm and shake your head. 

“please... don’t ask me to come to another one of these.” 

guilt immediately consumes him and his adams apple bobs, a quick nod of his head before he pulls you into his chest. you sniffle against his shirt and inhale his scent. you couldn’t help in the beginning but compare him to wooyoung, the different smell of his cologne and broader chest under your head. 

it was a good different but you hate that, even after an exchange like the one you and him just had, your mind still goes back to wooyoung; you still think about him and compare them and maybe that’s why you’re crying right now. too 

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” mingi mumbles against your head.

you don’t even realize there’s tears on your face until he pulls back and wipes at them, that broken feeling within your chest so painful it feels like you’re about to collapse. 

“i hate him, i really do,” you whimper out, shaking your head and wiping at your red face. “i...why did he do it? i thought i was over it, mingi. why am i not...” your voice breaks and you shake your head, struggling to breathe and get the words out in the cold air. “i fucking hate him.”

mingi can only hold you and rock you gently, his warm arms never leaving you as he tries to mend your broken heart. it’s something he’s been trying to do for months and will continue to do, wanting nothing more than for you to be free from the damage wooyoung did.

and if it were that easy, he’d be able to look at this moment in a few months time and see this was when his love and affection for you shined through and helped you. helped you see that there are other people who want to help you and be there for you, who will try their best to treat you better than the boy who hurt you.

but, unfortunately for him, things are never that easy.  

you threw yourself into work and school in a way you’d never done before. 

if you weren’t doing study sessions with a few people from your classes or spending nights in the library, you were busting your ass cleaning tables and dealing with overly nice college kids who attempt to make up for the mean and bitter middle-aged. 

true to mingi’s promise that october night, he never asked you to go to another party again; instead, he’d crash your movie nights afterward, only ever staying at the frat house for an hour or two because “they get old real fucking quick.”

but he never says the same thing about your friday and saturday nights, even though they religiously consist of laying in bed, eating junk food and watching cheesy romantic dramas.

so whether you were taking pity on him or your study groups pleas to meet them at a bar down town finally got to you, you were en route with mingi and a far too chatty uber driver for a night of “much needed fun and drinking,” as one of your friends put it.

“i’m kind of scared,” you mumble to mingi, a smile pulling at his lips at your innocent confession. you’ve never been to a bar before, let alone one that is known to serve under age kids and is raided by the cops monthly. 

“i’ve never been here but i’ve heard it’s fun. the music is pretty good and there’s a live band that-”

“are you two a couple?” 

you and mingi eye each other suspiciously, a smirk playing on both your lips at the man’s awkwardly blurted out question. it’s almost as awkward as you saying yes when mingi says no, the taller boy’s face falling as his head snaps to you. 

“wait...i mean...yes?” mingi says, hand going over your mouth as you hold back a giggle. 

you both hear the man laugh out a response, you far too consumed by mingi’s shocked face while he’s still trying to process why the hell you had said that. he can see it’s all teasing and fun though, a glint in your eye that makes it obvious you were only saying that to quell an uncomfortably nosy question. 

but he’s not ignorant to the fact of how much he wants that to be true. 

“why would he even ask that?” you giggle out as you two walk into the bar, not a bouncer or real id in sight. “right in the middle of our conversation, no less. what a weird thing to do.”

a smile creeps up on mingi’s face as he already sees the effects of your three spiked seltzers from back in your dorm, his hand brushing your hair behind your ear. his eyes linger on your pink cheeks and he has to stop himself from laughing, the two of being pulled from the moment just as it started.

“maybe because he thought we looked-”

“y/n!” 

the familiar squeal of your lab partner’s voice causes you to jump, mingi’s body still close to yours as you say hello and introduce them to each other. 

“for tonight, this is mingi, my boyfriend,” you tease, the wink you throw his way causing him to shove you playfully. 

the girl can only watch with a smirk, knowing that when she drags you to the bathroom in 20 minutes because she broke the seal, she’s gonna have to ask you all about that. 

“hi mingi, boyfriend of the night,” she says, the shy but handsome smile he throws her way all too endearing. her hands falls into yours as she beckons you both to the dance floor, dragging you away just ahead enough to ask if you plan on keeping him longer. 

you only roll your eyes and push her playfully, looking back to smile at mingi who’s watching you in a way that makes you think, tonight, you’re finally gonna kiss him. 

or that could just be the alcohol coursing through your veins, another cup of vodka and something, you don’t even know what your friend asked for. but it’s good, cold and sweet and you’re gone enough where you can barely taste the sting of alcohol going down your throat. 

you wouldn’t say you were drunk, courtesy of the huge meal you and mingi had back at your room, but you’re definitely a little tipsy. tipsy enough to dance without a care in the world, not distracted by the big groups of people or much too stuffy environment. 

you were there to have fun and dance, any problems from school work or shitty customers or a lingering ex-boyfriend the last thing on your mind. 

you haven’t seen wooyoung since that october night, when he was far too drunk and far too emotional and made you cry far too similarly like when you first broke up. 

it’s always a sad, hopeless cry, knowing that you shouldn’t still be hurting but feeling it deep within your gut that, whether you want to admit it or not, you still were. you were still hurt by the betrayal of someone you loved so much, even though you wished you could just turn those feelings off. 

and despite all of these feelings inside of you, you’re surprised to learn that, in your impaired state, you’re not a sad drunk yet. you’ve been laughing and smiling and dancing, bouncing your attention between your study group friends and mingi who spotted a few guys from his classes.

which should’ve been the first indication that wooyoung was lingering around this bar. 

he spotted you a few times during the night but knew better than to go over, remembering the last time he saw you, he got a well-deserved red mark on his cheek. he also saw how mingi watched you, a soft fondness in his gaze that hurt him as much as it comforted him.

because he thought you’d be safe with him tonight. that he wouldn’t let you out of his sight or allow you to stumble off to the bathroom by yourself.

but when the several cups hit you all at once, an unpleasant pressure on your bladder, you told the group you were gonna go pee and walked off without any response. it was so fast, one minute laughing and dancing and hearing the pounding music in their ears and then the next realizing you weren’t there. 

“oh...my god, my hair,” you whined in the mirror as you washed your hands, brushing through the frizzy, knotty strands. 

“it looks bea-beautiful!” another tipsy girl smiles, stumbling over to you and holding herself up on the wall. “don’t be silly!”

a giggle bubbles out of your mouth as you look at her in shock, her three friends coming out and praising each other is a similar way. 

it’s an oddly intimate and sweet ten minutes in the girl’s bathroom but it keeps you smiling even on your way out, waving goodbye to them before you turn back around and bump into someone’s chest.

“oh, i’m sorry, i-”

“it’s okay, pretty,” a deep unfamiliar voice says, his voice far too brash and flirty for your liking. you look up to see glossed over eyes and a smirk covering his sweaty face, the faint scent of alcohol and b.o making you queasy. 

“how’re you doing tonight?” 

“i’m fine,” you say, every bit of you now sobered as you watch his predatory gaze. the bar is still pretty crowded but the bathrooms are dark and off to the side, something you hadn’t even noticed in your tipsy state. 

“you here with someone tonight?” the boy asks, eyebrow raised suggestively as he takes a step closer to you. 

you swallow nervously as you nod politely, a tight smile on your face when your heart starts to pound. something innate within you is scared, the dark vacant corner only making you more nervous when your back hits the wall behind you.

“you’re pretty. so i guess it’s a boyfriend, huh?” 

“yes,” you say shortly, wishing you could push him back or or yell or slap him the way you did wooyoung. “so if you’ll excuse me, he’s probably wondering where i-”

but before you can move around the boy, a clammy hand on your elbow pulls you back to the wall. you immediately feel your heart drop into your stomach, panic setting in as your eyes shoot up to the man’s face. 

you don’t like the look behind his beady, glossy eyes and if you can’t get away within the next few seconds, you’re probably gonna scream. 

“now hold up now,” he says playfully, the slur in his words and stale smell of beer on his breath only making this worse. “maybe i’m b-better than your boyfriend,” he hiccups in your face, breath wafting in your face and making it pinch together. 

“i don’t think so,” you hum under your breath, shaking your head as you pull your arm out of his grasp. “so please leave me alone now.”

but he doesn’t. 

“hey, hey, hey, wait,” he says, a crooked smile on his face as he blocks his bigger body with yours. “just give me a chance, yeah? let me buy you a drink?”

your eyes flare and fists clench at his persistence, the way he’s inching closer to you and not taking no for an answer really making you mad. making you ready to stomp on his foot and kick him between the legs.

“c’mon, your boyfriend doesn’t even know you’re gone,” he says, an attempt to sound sly and convincing only making your skin crawl even more. “he’s probably with some other chick. let me show that i’m much better than him, babe.” 

his hand reaches out to touch your shoulder, a clammy thumb running along your bare skin. “he doesn’t know how good he has it if he let a pretty little thing like you walk off alone.”

“i know how good i have it actually,” you hear a voice mutter, one that, up until this very moment, would’ve made you angry or sad; but now, you don’t think you’ve ever been more grateful to hear him. 

you hear footsteps coming closer and each one fills you with relief, the thought that he’s about to kick the shit out of him the least of your concerns.

“so i suggest you take your fucking hand off her.”

your eyes meet the tight ones of wooyoung over the boy’s shoulder, his jaw clenched and gaze calculating as he debates ripping the guy off of you and shoving him against the wall or tugging you behind him.

he goes with both. 

taking you by the hand gently but firmly, your body bumping his as he puts you behind him. and then similar to how you were caged in, wooyoung does the same to the boy an inch or two taller than him; but it’s like neither are even aware of that. 

wooyoung’s body is stiff and rigid, the vein in his neck popping out as he stares down the guy. what freaks the creep out the most is, even by how pissed and dark this psycho is looking at him, his gaze looks...careless. like he wouldn’t even hesitate beating the shit out of him despite the way they’d be thrown out of here in three seconds.

“didn’t know you were real, dude,” the man stutters out, as if that is a good enough excuse to pin you against the wall and harass you. 

and wooyoung must find it absurd too, a scoff leaving his mouth as he cocks his head to the side.

“would it matter if i wasn’t?” he growls lowly, his body hot and angry as he takes his shirt in his hand. he wraps it around it to the point of choking the guy, his body thrashing underneath his hold. 

“get the f-fuck off me you psycho.”

“you don’t like it, do you?” wooyoung asks, a sinister smile on his face as he steps closer to the boy. “being caged in by a fucking lunatic? are you scared now?” 

your eyes widen at the dark tone in wooyoung’s voice, your quiet call of his name falling on deaf ears. he’s too focused on not beating the fuck out of the guy in front of him, his hand tightening as he decides to throw him into the corner of the wall.

you watch the man’s head smack off the wood trim and immediately screech, a chastising call of wooyoung’s name that has him grabbing your hand and heading for the exit. 

you’re about to object until you see he’s only bringing you outside the bar, sitting you down on a bench outside and welcoming the cold night air; it’s mid-november, only a week until thanksgiving break, and it’s unsurprisingly very bitter out. 

he helps you sit down before letting out a shaky sigh, his hands running through his hair like he’s trying to calm himself down and not run back in to finish what he wants so desperately wants to. he’s pacing slightly and you’d be probably be scared if it was anyone else, watching his jaw tick and vein pop in his neck. 

“you’re jeaaalous,” you tease your boyfriend of three months, watching his eyes follow two boys who had talked to you after class; you’d become friendly with them the first day of classes, their bright smiles and funny remarks immediately making you feel comfortable with them.

“no,” he growls lowly, his hand wrapped around your waist the whole time you go to your locker. you bite down on your lip to hide your smile but it does nothing to keep your giggles at bay, your back pressed up against the cold metal as he looks over your face. 

you cock your head to the side and smile teasingly at him, your thumb soothing over the ticking vein in his neck. the feel of it under your skin makes you wince a little because it seems almost dangerous, like his head or neck is gonna explode. 

“no?” you repeat, cocking an eyebrow as he looks at you in disdain. “then what’s this?” 

his hand reaches out to grab yours, quickly interlacing your fingers as his other  rests next to your head on the cool metal. 

“nothing,” he responds dumbly, dipping his head and hiding the possessive flare in his eyes as his next words fan over your ear. “i just don’t like seeing someone with my girl.”

you shake your head of the memory and see wooyoung making his way over to you, the boy slowly kneeling in front of you as he meets your glossy gaze. 

“you okay?” 

you lick over your dry lips, a lump already forming in your throat at his closeness and the softness in his voice. you can tell by his eyes that he hasn’t had a stitch of alcohol tonight, everything about him looking so similar to the boy he was last year during this time. 

before things went to shit and before he started the double life you both still haven’t recovered from. 

you don’t know if you could get the words out if you tried so you can only nod, your cold hands in one another. it feels as if a little bit of everything about the past five minutes has sobered you, fear and comfort and the coldness that should be alerting you to get away from the boy looking at you the way he is. 

but you can’t seem to do that, lips pressing into one another when you feel that lump growing bigger and bigger. you think you stop breathing when he reaches up to cup your cheek, his warm palm on your face for only a few seconds before you let out a shaky breath.

you know this isn’t good. that you and him together alone right now isn’t good. months of telling yourself you hate him and that he should rot before seeing him before your eyes and knowing that a part of you still cares for him. 

“wooyoung,” you mumble warningly, that breaking feeling within your chest knowing you can’t have him touching you. 

his face falls at the same time as his hand, splayed out on your jean covered knee in a way that feels so foreign but familiar. his hands are smaller than mingi’s but there’s something about them that almost makes you feel more comforted, remembering the times like this he would hold you and make you feel better.

made you feel like no one would ever hurt you because he was there. 

“i’m sorry,” he says quietly, his voice deep and full of genuine sorrow. 

but you don’t know what exactly he’s sorry for. for the drunken man, for him touching you, for what he did? you go with the first one, because you’re not ready for the conversation the other two need. 

“not your fault,” you hum quietly, trying to talk through the growing lump in your throat. “just a drunk asshole.”

“not about that,” he laughs out humorlessly, rising from his spot below you and sitting down next to you. he’s close enough to where you can feel the heat radiating off his body but your arms aren’t touching - just a few centimeters separate you. 

“i’m sorry about our last conversation. it...wasn’t fair of me to do that and say anything to you.”

you shiver as a biting gust of win blows past, your arms wrapping around yourself as you simply nod. you can’t really think of what to say. because you don’t wanna say it’s okay, it’s not, but he also seems genuinely apologetic. 

“i’m trying not to drink anymore,” he explains to you, not quite sure how to take your silence and choosing to fill it. you can hear some embarrassment laced in his voice, his eyes trained down on his dirty sneakers. “it’s...caused me nothing but problems.”

caused him to lose you and fuck up time and time again. misplace all of his priorities and transform him into a person who lost his happiness in the span of a few months. 

“i messed up that night obviously, though,” he chuckles out, not a trance of humor in his tone as he meets your gaze. usually it’d be him watching you be nervous but now he can feel the shift in dynamic. that even though you’re still uncomfortable and nervous too, you still have the upper hand.

you can decide right now if you’re gonna start this conversation or tell him to go fuck himself. 

“i’m sorry you had to witness that. i know it was really fucking shitty of me.”

“it was,” you agree quietly after a few silent seconds, wooyoung’s heart dropping in his stomach as he prepares to get his ass handed to him. “but i don’t know if that second slap was warranted.” 

that loud high chuckle you’d always complain was ear piercing bubbles out of his mouth and you can’t help but bite back a smile at hearing it, resisting the urge to giggle right along side with him.

“it definitely was. i was a dick.”

you only shrug your shoulders, something pulling in your chest the more you two sit down beside one another and actually talk. not curse or slur words at each other or put your hands on the other but actually have some sort of discussion. 

“it wasn’t right. what i did.” 

and then just as you were starting to feel good about all of this talking stuff, your heart falls in your stomach and you wanna run from away from this conversation. a part of you doesn’t wanna reopen these wounds but another part of you knows they were never really healed or closed. 

especially not after seeing him again. 

“i can’t even tell you why or what happened because i don’t even fucking know.   i missed you even though we saw each other and talked a lot but...she was just always fucking there. would never leave me alone and i was so stupid to not realize it.”

that’s something he always reflects back on, how you saw something the first day you met her but you both chopped it up to insecurities. 

“and then i think i just started to lie because i loved you. which doesn’t even make sense because you don’t lie to someone you love. but i was so selfish and desperate to keep you. i knew you’d leave me.”

“no shit, wooyoung,” you can’t help but say, the quiver in your voice one you can’t stop as you hear all of this from his mouth. “the first night when she kissed you drunk, you should’ve told me. the fact that you didn’t...makes me thing you knew it was gonna happen again. without alcohol.”

“i didn’t tell you because i thought you’d be mad. i know i would’ve been.”

“i don’t think you’d be mad if someone took advantage of me,” you confess quietly, something you now know was absolutely the case. “but truthfully, it wasn’t even that, woo. you lied right to my face when i asked you in my room that day.”

“we’re just friends,” he says and you bite the inside of your cheek so you don’t scream; you hadn’t said anything like that so why is he telling you that? “she only texted me for the schedule, love.”

you look up to meet his gaze and see a frown on his lips, his eyes trailing over every part of your face. 

“do you trust me?” he then asks suddenly, seeing all of the doubt and hesitation over your face. you immediately nod your head, feeling tears burn the back of your eyes at the idea of starting a fight.

“then why does it seem like you don’t?

“you made it seem like it was me. and that’s why i really tried to fucking hate you,” you confess, voice wavering and watery and you even hear how it sounds like you’re about to have a break down. “being with her was bad and me needing to see that was bad but you...lying like that was worse.”

he swallows the lump in his throat as tears sting his eyes, his jaw clenched and eyes on the concrete so tears don’t fall. 

“a part of me thinks i should hate you,” you say after a few silent moments, wondering if he’s even listening to your words anymore. “but i...” your voice breaks and the cold air stings your watery eyes, successfully (and thankfully) halting your words. 

and whether wooyoung noticed your shivering or saw your eyes, you feel him move beside you before his sweatshirt is placed around your shoulders. the scent of his cologne could make you burst into tears on the spot, the teakwood scent you loved so much further overwhelming you. 

“thanks,” you mumble quietly, his hummed response the only sound between you two for the next few moments. 

the muffled music and chatter from inside the bar could be heard from the street but it seems as if no one is out tonight. just you, wooyoung and the lingering silence that comes with sitting beside an ex who hurt you and an ex you’re still in love with. 

it just so happens that, for you, both of those are still the case. no matter how much you wanna deny it or pretend that’s not the case, him sitting beside you and giving you soft little smiles is making you weaker than you wished. 

you know you should get up and leave, tell him this isn’t a good idea and that you should go back inside to mingi and your friends. but it’s like your brain and your body are at a complete disconnect, welcoming the warm heat from his jacket and the strangely comfortable presence of him beside you. 

“i still love you.”

the wind blows by at the time he says that and, at first, you think you made it up. that your deluded mind is hearing things and you really are just far too vulnerable and upset right now. 

but the when you peak at him, you can tell by the look on his face he’s not sure if he said that either. actually confessed to you in such a way he knows is wrong and unfair but just couldn’t stop because to the core, he’s selfish when it comes to you. 

he always has been.

“i always will. i always did.” 

and when you feel yourself start to break, the tears burning at the back of your eyes coming to the surface, you feel the anger and spite finally leave your body and be replaced with a sad, pathetic version of it. 

“i don’t know how i’m supposed to believe that,” you whimper out quietly, your eyes roaming his face in a way that breaks his heart; your eyes look so sad and defeated, he just wants to pull you into him. “i don’t even know why you’re saying this to me right now, woo.”

but he knows it’s in the way you still call him that with ease, like you don’t even realize you’re saying it and it’s just completely natural, that that’s exactly why he’s saying it. 

that he wants you to see, even though he made a mistake, there’s still something to hold on to. 

“i miss you,” he tells you softly, his voice low in a way that makes you swallow the lump in your throat. “i really fucking miss you, y/n. and i love you.”

“you’re not being fair,” you whimper out, the tears brimming your eyes falling down your cheek as you look at him. that’s when it really hits him how much he hurt you, how much you avoiding him and blocking him out of your life was meant to shield you from this.

“that’s not fair at all, wooyoung. what am i supposed to do? just forget it? believe now that you love me? you said the same thing then.”

“and it was true then,” he says, his tone more desperate and tight. “it was a mistake, y/n. the first time and the times after that. they’re lousy excuses but i’m being honest.”

he reaches out to wipe your tears and you can’t find the energy to pull away, exhaling a shaky breath when his thumb wipes at your face. his touch is gentle and soft and makes this moment even more hard for you, the look on his face making your heart wrench in your chest. 

“please, baby. i know it’d be hard but if we could just-”

“don’t. please.”

you pull your face away and shake your head as you look at him, wiping your wet cheek with the back of your hand.

“you’re not about to honestly suggest we date again? are you out of your fucking mind?”

“no no no. not date,” he’s quick to clarify, his hands up in innocence. “if we could just be friends. friendly. not...avoid each other and argue every time we see each other.” 

he lifts his hands to your face again with a pout on his, swiping both thumbs under your eyes; you notice his own eyes are teary but don’t even wanna think about him crying in front of you.

it hurts you as much as it enrages you, remembering the last time he broke down in front of you. 

“i don’t want you to cry every time you see me,” he mumbles lowly, his gaze looking over your face with such affection you can’t bear to look at him anymore. 

“i don’t...i want...i...” 

“i’m never gonna trust anyone ever again. do you fucking realize that, wooyoung?” you cry, his voice ringing in your head from january, when now you know he had already been with her, asking why you didn’t trust him. “you were with her and turned it around on me and asked why i didn’t trust you.”

“i want you to trust me.”

but he says that like it’s easy. like you can just so easily forget everything and trust him blindly. like he didn’t do anything wrong.

“i don’t know, wooyoung.”

he sees the fear and apprehension flickering behind your eyes, a sigh leaving his mouth as guilt starts to wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this right now. he shouldn’t be asking you to do this when he’s not even sure you’ve forgiven him yet. 

he shouldn’t be feeling this intense want and need to have you to himself again. 

you both hear the faint sound of the door swinging open but pay no mind to it, too lost in the intense gazes and buzzing air between you two. you know you shouldn’t be considering this just as much as he shouldn’t be asking but here you are, actually considering his words right now. 

“just...think about it?” he offers, eyes glinting with hope and affection that would usually soften you in a second. “i know it’ll take time but maybe we can just try?”

you lick over your cold, chapped looks as you look at him, every part of you knowing you should be saying a big fuck you and fuck no to him. 

“i’ll wait for you again,” he adds, a hint of teasing behind his words as he thinks about your first few months together. him sitting with you every day during lunch and you outright ignoring him for half of them. watching as your confused expressions and sneers slowly morphed into smiles and giggles. 

realizing that, he was right to think you guys were good for each other, because being with you was one of the easiest things in the world when he wasn’t being a fucking asshole. 

“you barely waited,” you grumbled lowly, remembering the events from high school a lot more along the lines of him buying you snacks, asking you to a different movie every weekend and not giving you a moment to yourself during lunch. 

“a whole two months actually,” he says, the amusement in his voice making a sad smile cross your face. he can tell it’s sad by the way it doesn’t meet your eyes and it makes his heart hurt just a little bit, his hand moving to yours so your cold fingertips brush. 

“i’ll wait as long as you need this time. and if you decide you don’t want to be friends...that’s fine, too. i’ll...accept it and never talk to you again.”

you hate the way your heart pangs with hurt at that idea, terrified and embarrassed by how fast things changed in three months. how three months, you never wanted to see him again and now the prospect of that is physically paining you.

but could you put yourself through this? should you put yourself through this? he could be lying again. he could just be-

“y/n?” 

mingi’s deep voice pulls you from your thoughts as you jump at the sound of him, your eyes meeting his confused, cautious gaze before quickly snatching your hand away from wooyoung; but it’s obvious he already saw how close you guys were, on top of the fact his sweatshirt is wrapped around your shoulders. 

“you okay?” mingi asks as he looks at you, his gaze shifting to wooyoung and hardening every so slightly. “why are you upsetting her? haven’t you done enough?” 

“mingi, it’s-”

“some drunk asshole was harassing her because someone let her walk off alone,” wooyoung says to the boy, standing from his spot next to you and walking over. it’s at that time your friends come out and their eyes light up upon seeing you, quickly rushing over and dabbing at your red, damp face. 

mingi and wooyoung continue to have a stare down as you’re bombarded by drunken coos and sticky hands, the taller boy watching you carefully before wooyoung clears his throat. 

“guy said she had a boyfriend but that’s not the case, is it?” wooyoung says, the shift in him to being conniving and mean at the way he sees the boy looking at you. “no matter how much your bitch ass wants it.”

“fuck you,” mingi spits out, “you don’t deserve to even speak to her after what you did.”

“you don’t deserve to give me advice after you tried to swoop in and steal her.” 

“she’s not something to steal, asshole. i’ve actually been there for her, wooyoung,” mingi says, his tone deep and gruff as he resists the urge to thrown him up against the wall. “watching her cry and get through the shit that you inflicted on her.”

the words effect him just as much as mingi wanted them too but he’d never let the boy know that, instead narrowing his eyes and shoving the boy backward. 

“our shit’s between me and her so maybe fuck off for once and leave her alone,” wooyoung says, popping his neck to the side as he watches mingi’s jaw tighten. “look like a pathetic little puppy following her around.”

“more pathetic than pining after someone you cheated on? you know you fucked up and now that she’s moving on, you’re pissed.” 

“who the fuck said she’s moving on you-”

“mingi, we’re gonna go.”

it’s your soft voice that breaks up their lowly growled conversation, wooyoung’s dark eyes changing as he turns back to look at you. you hold his gaze for a few seconds before meeting mingi and the boy can’t even lie in saying it hurts how much more comfortable you seem looking at him. 

wooyoung can barely hear mingi mumble his response, letting out a groan when the taller boy shoulder checks him and says “they’ll see him around.” the boy bites back a snarky comment as you meet his gaze again, flickers of hope and confusion and fear in your gaze. 

he can only assure you with a soft smile and hope that you really see he meant every word he said. 

“i couldn’t even tell if he meant it, you know,” you tell mingi on the walk home, wooyoung’s sweatshirt still hanging from your body. 

the walk from the bar to your dorm is only about twenty minutes, you and mingi’s hands bumping clumsily as you walk down the main road. 

“like he seems sorry and he just said we’ll be friends. but i can’t....actually trust him again. what he did was wrong and i can’t just forgive him.”

mingi’s been quiet during your rant for the past few minutes, only the occasional hum or nod assuring you he’s even been listening. but it’s when you crane your neck up to look at him you see his face is...unusual. 

expressionless, almost, in a way you never see on the usually happy and smiley boy. 

“mingi? are you okay?”

“hm? yeah, i’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head before his arms bumps into yours. 

your eyebrows pull together in suspicion, about to ask him if he’s even been listening before he beings to talk again. “do you actually feel that way, though? that what he did was wrong and that you can’t forgive? or do you just think you should feel that way?” 

“i-” 

the question strikes you more than you thought it would. because the answer seems obvious - you shouldn’t wanna forgive him. you should know what he did was wrong, know it in the way loyalty and trust is such a crucial part to relationships.

but forgiveness is where that line gets blurred for you. 

hearing him and seeing him look and sound apologetic was hard. thinking back on your relationship and remembering how good you guys were together was hard. trying to put yourself in his situation, although you’re not sure you would’ve been in it in the first place, was hard. 

and it’s not like he’s asking you to trust him and be his girlfriend again. 

you’re just gonna...slowly repair your relationship again, right? but when you utter that thought to mingi, his feet stop moving and he looks down at you with an unconvinced expression. 

“you say that, y/n, and i wanna believe you,” he says, his hand toying at your fingers as he tries to remain gentle and calm. “but...i don’t know. you guys looked...”

the softness and affection was obvious, the possession and love behind wooyoung’s eyes matching your soft but fearful gaze was eye opening. 

if he didn’t know any better, he would’ve seen a couple making up from a fight. a happy, loving couple who was able to get past a hardship in their relationship and would be able to thrive again. 

“what?”

“you guys looked like you were...together. i thought i interrupted something,” mingi says honestly, remembering how you jumped away and your hands and face followed. “kind of seemed like you guys were gonna kiss.”

“mingi, that’s definitely not-”

“and look, if that’s what you want, that’s fine. but, please, y/n. you have to be careful. you can’t forget how much he hurt you and really have to consider if he’s being-”

and maybe it’s because you just wanted him to stop talking about it. or because your mind is muddled and confused and still swirling with the effects of alcohol and the tension with wooyoung. or because, underneath all of this drama, a part of you also has come to like mingi.

or at least, the comfort and feelings of affection and desire he gave you. he’s been there for you since the beginning and after a few months, you always thought this moment was gonna happen. you just didn’t know when. 

you didn’t know when one of you was gonna grow the balls to kiss and see what happens after that. 

it takes him a few seconds to respond before you feel him kiss you back, lips parted and his hand in yours moving to your hips. he pulls you against him the more you kiss, like you’re pouring every emotion you’ve experienced tonight into him while he’s pouring every emotion he’s held back for months. 

he just doesn’t know that at the time. 

he just knows that you pull back and smile at him in such a pretty way, a blush on your cheeks and glint in your eye as you tell him you really are only considering a friendship with wooyoung. 

but you go home that night not thinking about the kiss or mingi’s sleeping body beside you. you go home thinking about how nice it feels to be wrapped in wooyoung’s familiar scent and jacket.

almost like, when you close your eyes, you can pretend the body next to you is his. 

truthfully, you didn’t know how that kiss was gonna effect the dynamic between you and mingi. you didn’t know if things were gonna be awkward or different or if now all of the expectations changed. 

but even that night when he dropped you off, and stayed for a sleepover which was not unusual, you curled up in bed with a bag of chips and your laptop as you each shared a headphone.

and nothing felt different.

you two just went along with your usual relationship, not even mentioning the kiss until it became something that happened a day ago. then a week ago, then two weeks ago, then over a month ago, until it kind of seemed like something you guys were never gonna talk about. 

but school and work kept you both busy anyway, the last few days before christmas break full of studying for finals, finishing projects and dealing with the holiday rush of customers stocking up on sugary desserts and espresso shots.

among those customers in the coffee shop was wooyoung, the boy coming in three times a week for his usual order of black coffee and a chipotle chicken club. 

at first, you could tell the remnants of your conversation outside the bar were lingering. you were both apprehensive, his eyes guarded and voice overly polite every time he ordered or thanked you. 

you kept up your professional attitude but still felt that familiar feeling of nervousness bubbling in your stomach, torn between giving him another chance as a friend or saving yourself the possibility of getting hurt again.

but it was in the little things he did over the weeks of him coming in that eventually wore you down. 

when a particularly unpleasant customer gave you shit, he was quick to jump in like a ‘good samaritan,’ share a not-so-nice few words that had you biting back a smile and instead telling him it was okay. 

he always ordered two drinks by accident, his black coffee and an iced coffee that would sit on his table for a few minutes before he came back over to you and your coworkers claiming he didn’t need it anymore. 

but he knew it was your favorite drink and he could tell you needed a pick me up, working well into the evening until the sky fell dark and streets grew empty. 

which brought him to his current predicament, the last person in the coffee shop while you closed up alone on the not so decent side of town; he noticed you closed alone on thursdays and it never sat right with him, watching it happen for two weeks before deciding he wasn’t gonna allow it anymore. 

“hey, we close in about ten minutes. can i get you anything else?” he hears you ask, his head snapping up from his phone. there’s a rag in your hand and a small, polite smile on your face, looking him over warily.

“oh nah, i’m good,” he says, a shake of his head and a small laugh leaving his mouth. you purse your lips to the side and nod unconvinced, going back to the counter to finish cleaning. 

you let out a small sigh when you realize you forgot to text your roommate to come pick you up, your car in the shop and god knows how much money down in your back account. but before you can even get to her contact, you hear wooyoung coming your way. 

“thanks again, y/n, ” he says, gesturing to his empty cup of coffee in hand. 

“you’re welcome! have a nice night, wooyoung,” you smile politely. 

you think that maybe saying his name over and over will remind you of what he’s done to you, halt the stupid butterflies in your stomach that erupt every time you see him enter the coffee shop or catch him looking at you.

he smiles but doesn’t respond, only looks you over before looking out the window and then back at you.

“so, how’re you getting home?” 

you press your lips together as you now realize why he’s been lingering tonight, a scoff leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him; he must’ve noticed your car not in the parking lot before.

“i was wondering why you were lingering,” you mumble, a chuckle leaving his mouth that makes a small, uncontrollable smile pull at your lips.

“knew you were on to me,” he quips playfully, winking as he goes over to the garbage and throws out his cup. “lemme drive you home.”

“i was gonna call my roommate to get me, it’s okay,” you insist, wiping out your phone again and scrolling to her name. you hear his footsteps approach you again, his hand reaching out slowly before gently falling onto your arm.

and even though you heard him, you still jump at the contact, what feels like an electric shock zipping through your skin you know is all in your head. 

“c’mon, y/n, that’s not necessary. i’m here,” he whines slightly, eyes pleading and soft with a smile you’re trying so hard to resist. you lick over your dry lips and narrow your eyes slightly, letting out a sigh when you can tell he’s not letting up.

and it’s late. it’s so late and you’re tired and still have two papers to finish and edit tonight. you might as well, right?

“fine.” 

he smiles happily before guiding you to the front door, watching you lock up before you silently walk to his car. he opens the passenger-side door and you give him a strange look, never having seen him do that before, before thanking him. 

the car ride is quiet and awkward and cold for the first few minutes, you softly giving him directions before he turns on the heat and you sigh in relief. he side-eyes you as you put your hands to the vent, relishing in the hot air on your cold skin and he can’t help but smile at the sight.

“hands are still like icicles, i see.”

you look over and see the smirk on his face, probably remembering how when things were different, you’d warm your hands up on his skin despite his screams. sneak your hands under his shirt when you’d star gaze at night or hold onto his arm and giggle as he begged you to take them off him but never made any move to get them off. 

“always,” you say shortly, a slightly strained but breathy giggle leaving your mouth that makes his heart pull in his chest. 

the quiet hum of the car surrounds you both for the next few moments, an unspoken tenseness in the car from the reminder that, last time you were alone, he said he still loved you and you had a breakdown. he begged to be friends again and you left him without an answer. 

an answer that’s now lingering between you two, trying to decide if this is gonna be something that’s able to be repaired in some way or you’re both gonna let the fond memories and old feelings die out.

you can’t even lie and say you weren’t going back and forth about it some nights, when your bed seemed too cold and memories were playing and, for some reason, your thoughts of mingi weren’t enough. 

but you were terrified. every part of you was terrified to open this relationship back up just to possibly be hurt again. put your time and effort into him and make more memories that could potentially be tainted again. 

you suppose that’s a risk with any relationship though, because mingi hurt you too and look at you two now; you don’t think your friendship with him has ever been stronger. 

you let out a sigh as you wrack your brain, so lost in thought and the building ache in your temples that you’re barely able to hear wooyoung call your name. 

“y/n?” he repeats, smiling softly when you look over at him in a daze and hum lowly. 

“you good?”

“y-yeah,” you stutter, cheeks flushing a warm pink that wooyoung’s always sworn is the cutest thing about you. even more cute than when you stutter over your words or lick over your lips when you’re lost in thought.

“i...i was just thinking...” you continue a few moments later, your heart saying fuck it because your brain seemed to have lost this battle a while ago.

“about?” wooyoung prods gently, looking over at you as he stops at a red light; he can see your apprehensive, your quietness and shifting eyes one of the telltale signs. 

“about...what we talked about the other night,” you say, peering over to see him watching you patiently, softly, so much like the way he’d watch you in the beginning. 

“about trying to be friends.”

his eyebrow raises and he can feel a lump already forming in his throat, the smile he puts on his face one to disguise how fucking nervous he just became. because he was serious, no matter how selfish he’s realizing he is, if you tell him you don’t wanna be friends, he’s gonna respect that.

no matter how much it’ll pain him. 

“and?” he asks, tightening his hand on the steering wheel when his eyes fall to your lips; watching as your tongue swipes over them before meeting his gaze again. 

the look in his eyes makes more butterflies erupt in your stomach, a soft intensity that momentarily makes you forget everything he’s done; it also might be responsible for the next words that leave your mouth.

“i...think we can try.”

and you didn’t know it at the time but that was that sentence that sealed your fate for the next two months, mirroring the happy smile wooyoung throws your way as your heart lurches in your chest.

his hand twitches to take yours in his but he knows that’d be absolutely inappropriate so he only grips the steering wheel tighter, thanking you softly and promising that he’s not gonna fuck this up. 

and for the next week, he doesn’t; you two fall into a schedule you would’ve never anticipated at the beginning of the school year. 

he comes in a few hours before your shift ends, studies for finals with cups of coffee and desserts until he’s the last one in the building with you. he helps you clean and close up, his signature high-pitched laugh echoing through the empty walls when you smack him with a rag or yell at him for trying to steal another cookie. 

he brings you home every night, your finger tips colliding as you warm your hands with the vents and smile shyly when the sensation from your skin meeting zips through you. 

it’s a dark and clear night tonight, what seems like darker than any other december night, and there’s hundreds of stars in the sky. it’s something you both notice but don’t have the hearts to comment on, both of you catching the other peeking out the window or admiring the sight above you at a red light. 

you bite down on your lip when he catches you, a blush creeping up on your face before you stutter out a question. the first one that comes to mind.

“you excited to be going back home?” 

the smirk on his face is so obviously teasing but you don’t have the stomach to be snippy right now, grateful when he decides to play it nice tonight and answer without calling you out. 

“how ‘bout you? your parents must be so happy.”

“they are. not happy that i’ll be using their car all break but i think they’re still happy,” you giggle out, wooyoung looking over at you an eyebrow raised.

“it’s still fucked?”

“yeah,” you sigh out with a shrug. “it’s okay though, it’ll definitely be fixed by the time i’m back for the spring.”

“that’s true but then how are you getting home tomorrow?” 

and that’s how you ended up driving home for christmas break with wooyoung, his pleas, your apprehension, your parents confusion and mingi’s utter disapproval making the trip a very questionable one. 

but it had made sense, you guess, saving your parents an hour drive to a destination wooyoung would be going to anyway. 

“y/n, are you sure you’re okay with this?” mingi had asked, sitting atop your bed as you folded your clothes into a suitcase. you noticed the way the smile fell from his face when you told him, your stomach twisting as something that strangely felt like guilt began to surface. 

but you shook it off and smiled softly at the boy, insisting that an hour with him would be okay. 

“he’s been coming to work and driving me home every night this week, mingi, and i haven’t had a breakdown yet. it’ll be fine.”

the boy doesn’t find your comment assuring in the slightest, narrowing his eyes at you and feeling something pull in his chest. he doesn’t think you’ve realized how much you’ve drifted this week, small things that maybe he’s being too sensitive about or thinking too much into it. 

but he’s wondering why you never asked him for a ride. or why the texts you’d usually send him about rude customers or funny co-workers have dwindled this week. he’s wondering why, for some god forsaken reason, your eyes are brighter and there’s a look on your face that just seems happier. 

ignorance is bliss though and that’s why mingi just nods his head at you and opens his arms, smiling into your hair when you agree to take a quick 30-minute break for an episode that turns into almost three hours of cuddling and giggling.

“that’s not what happened at all!” you squeal, hitting wooyoung in the arm as he incorrectly recounts meeting your parents for the first time. 

“there’s no way i did that!” he says, his lips quirked up and a laugh bubbling in his chest.

“you literally did! i almost died, that’s how i remember so well,” you screech, never forgetting that the first time you introduced a boy to your parents over dinner, he patted his lap and told you to take a seat. 

wooyoung bursts out laughing the same way he did then, your mom looking at you two half in amusement and half in shock while your dad didn’t miss a beat and patted his lap for his wife in return; you were both pink in the face and smacked their arms playfully. 

“your dad always liked me, i never understood why and now i certainly don’t.” 

you bite down on your lip to control your growing smile, the two of you sharing memories the whole ride down. 

it’s probably the worst thing to do at a time like this, where you’re both back in familiar settings, with a hundred different reminders and memories of one another. where you now only have each other and an old group of mutual friends with way too much free time you don’t know what to do with. 

“you were funny i guess,” you tease lightly, a small giggle leaving your mouth when he side eyes you with mock annoyance. “remember when you got him the toilet golf for christmas?” 

wooyoung throws his head back in laughter again and you both giggle and squeal for him to keep his eyes on the road, hitting him in the arm playfully as you tell him it’s still in his bathroom to this day.

“he’s probably real good now, too,” wooyoung says with a wink, the roll of your eyes making him bite back a smile of his own. “what’re you guys doing for christmas this year?” 

you share holiday plans for the remainder of the car ride, telling him that you’ll be going to your aunt’s a few hours away from christmas to new years day. there’s only about five minutes left until you’re home when wooyoung’s next words stir you into shock.

“maybe we could hang out when you’re back. go ice skating or something.”

you press your lips together as you look at him, his face relaxed and eyes on the road like the suggestion had been the easiest thing in the world. you don’t know that, internally, he was kind of freaking out. hoping he didn’t just back track all the progress you guys have made, just within this car ride even. 

ice skating was something you guys did last year together, your hand in his before you promptly fell on your ass but he saved you every time. you were still newly dating and it was all very sweet and pure, cheek kisses and awkward fumbling which were the telltale signs that you were a new couple in the honeymoon phase. 

“i....” 

the words seem caught in your throat, knowing you wanna say yes because friends ice skate. friend hang out like that, this shouldn’t be a new concept to you. 

he can sense your apprehension and quickly meets your gaze, his face falling before he’s quickly shaking his head. 

“only if you want to,” he smiles softly, an uncharacteristic shyness on his face and in his voice. “if you’re bored and got nothing else to do, ya know.” 

not because he desperately wants to be with you during this break. not because hanging out with you this past week has been the happiest he’s felt since almost exactly a year ago. 

“no, yeah, sure. that’d be nice,” you eventually stutter out, a smile breaking out across wooyoung’s face that calms all the anxiety and tension in your body. you can feel this attachment is wrong and unhealthy but it’s like you have no control over it anymore, blinded by him and the memories and the way he makes you feel. 

the way you watch his car drive off after he walks you to the door, already buzzing with excitement for your...friendly outing with wooyoung in the next few weeks. 

the holidays pass as quickly as they came and soon enough, you’re running around your room picking the finishing touches on your outfit as wooyoung is set to arrive in a few minutes. he had called you this morning after he woke up, telling you to dress warm and that he’d see you later tonight at six. 

you hear your door bell ring and your eyes widen, moving to the clock to see he’s, surprisingly, five minutes early. you deem your matching boots and jacket good enough, running down the stairs and to the door. 

you’re only faintly aware of the fact you can’t see his head through the top glass window the way you saw mingi’s when he came to your house last winter, shaking the memory from your head and smiling when you see wooyoung standing there with a cup of hot chocolate.

“hey b...y/n,” he smiles, his heart pulling in his chest so much he almost slipped up and forgot you’re only friends. but you just look so pretty and this feels a lot like a date, his stomach twisting and heart pounding in such a foreign way; he hasn’t been on a date since...

“hi! thank you, woo,” you smile softly, taking the cup from his hand and ushering him inside quickly. “just gotta find my keys. my parents are still at my aunts.”

“was hoping to see your dad, ask him about his golfing skills,” wooyoung teases, not coming to terms with the true anxiety and shame he feels knowing the older man definitely knows what he did to his daughter.

but if he does, you don’t make any indication of it; only smile at him and nod your head toward the couch, telling him you’ll be ready in a few minutes. he goes into the living room and smiles upon seeing your christmas tree light up with white lights and homemade ornaments. 

your house smells of vanilla and the fireplace is crackling, a perfect warm contrast to the cold, biting weather outside. he plops down and watches the fire crackle, the heat warming his face and making him lean back with his eyes closed. 

the warmth of the fire makes him melt further into the couch, sinking back into the comfortable couch until it almost feels like he could fall asleep.

you walk back in a few moments later and see the sight before you, your eyes widening and heart lurching because fuck. he has no right looking like that, sprawled out handsome and relaxed on your couch with the soft fire glowing on his face. 

your eyes rack down his body quickly, his eyes closed and legs spread, head tipped back against the couch in a way that looks like he... you have to shake your head out of the daze, your own cheeks flushing because you feel like an absolute gawking pervert right now.

even though you’re painfully aware of how long it’s been since you last...

you shake your head again and make you way over, his eye peeking open upon hearing your footsteps, your pink cheeks and wet lips making him swallow and twitch in his seat; you look so fucking pretty tonight.

“hey,” he smiles, voice gruff and low as he looks you over. “you look nice.”

“you too,” you smile softly, your eyes moving from him to the roaring fire. “do you like it?” 

but his eyes are still on you, roaming your body in a way that has his cock straining in his pants. he’s missed you and fuck has he missed those parts of you, too. he can see something behind your eyes but he’s not sure if it’s just his own lust creeping up on him, a hunger that he never thought he’d see again from you.

“like what?” 

his voice is deep and gruff and sounds so rough, you have to stop the shudder from going through you. you can only swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the sensation ripping between your legs as you look at him watching you. 

with eyes so dark and lustful you can only hope that your own desire isn’t imagining it, staring back at him as you lick at your dry lips and remind yourself to breathe.

“th-the fire,” you say nodding your head toward the flames he was entranced by before. “do you like it?” 

“oh,” he laughs out, the lump in his throat and growing arousal far too much right now. “yeah, i do. it’s nice.” 

you nod your head as you look down and play with your fingers, bag hanging from your shoulder as you watch him from the middle of the room. the air is thick and the room feels 100 degrees, your heart pounding in your ears as you hear the whipping wind outside. 

that’s where you guys should go right now. in the cold. around people. not alone in a hot space that’s only getting more and more tense.

“i...should we go or?” 

he looks from you to the window to the fire and then back to you, a small pout on his face as he leans himself back on the couch. “five more minutes? it’s so fucking cold out and this is nice.”

you almost wanna say no because the tension is too thick right now but you also don’t know if you could move if you tried, nodding your head as a quiet “sure,” leaves your mouth. 

the room is silent and you’re looking at him while he’s watching you, the need to swallow becoming more and more prevalent before you cock your head to the side. 

“is it really cold out? should i wear something heavier?” 

you know you don’t have to. this is your heaviest winter jacket, you just need to say fucking anything before you do something you might regret. or not regret at all, anything to feel relief and remember the way his lips feel against yours. 

“no, that should be fine,” he says, smiling as he looks over your outfit and face again. “you look good. really good.”

a shy smile crosses your face and you feel a blush creep up on your face, looking down at your boots that may or may not be new. 

“thanks. so do you,” you say softly, meeting his gaze and biting down on your lip when he smiles teasingly at you.

“is that why you’re all the way over there?” 

your eyes narrow and breath hitches and you almost think he knows how much he’s effecting you right now. how long it’s been since you’ve had any sort of contact with another person that wasn’t completely platonic or pure. 

“shut up,” you mumble, taking a few small steps toward the couch but still keeping your distance. he raises an eyebrow almost challengingly and that’s when you feel yourself growing more suspicious, cocking your head to the side as you blatantly look him over.

you watch him roll his tongue over his lips before looking into the fire place, that familiar tick in his jaw and neck making you smirk before feigning innocence again. 

“you really like that, don’t you?”

his eyes raise to you, not a trance of teasing or amusement on his face as he look at you. it’s all dark and lustful and you don’t know where this is all coming from but it’s creeping up on you fast. 

“the fire, i mean,” you add, nodding your head toward the furnace again. 

his eyes narrow and jaw clenches, your teeth sinking into your lip to stop the smirk from creeping back up on your face; but it must not help completely because you watch a different sort of look cover wooyoung’s face.

one you haven’t seen in a long time.

“a lot of smart ass remarks for someone who’s standing across the room,” he bites back, eyes widening and cock twitching when you shrug your shoulders and are suddenly standing right in front of the couch. 

you can only look down at him with a small smirk on your face, eyebrow’s raised as if to say now what are you gonna say? but you should know by now that wooyoung is almost never speechless or action-less, spreading his legs out on the couch just a little bit more before a teasing smile crosses his face. 

he repeats the actions he did that first day meeting your parents, tapping his lap  again as he licks over his lips and tells you your seat is still here. he knows it’s a risk and so do you but it doesn’t stop you from looking over his body, everything in you screaming that if you do this, there’s no going back. 

you’re gonna be back to where you were months ago, caught in a cycle of worry and fear and all-consuming emotions, something dangerous and draining when a person like him knows they have power over you.

but right now, after the past three months of going back and forth with him and sorting through your emotions, you just wanna forget everything. turn your brain off for a second and do something, anything, that’s gonna make you feel something other than sadness and anger and confusion. 

“come here.”

the command is gruff and deep and makes your lower stomach swoop, your fingers falling to zip off your jacket before your bag lands on the floor with a plop and you’re straddling your cheater of an ex-boyfriend right on your living room couch.

your lips collide and he groans at the same time you moan into his mouth, a mess of open-mouthed kisses and tongues that feel so pent up and natural, it’s like neither of your brains are on. 

when you move against him and feel his hard cock under you, it only spurs you on to do it more. press your body into him and wrack your fingers through his hair. 

he growls into your mouth and places his hands on your hips, his finger tips digging into your shirt as he disconnects your lips for air and travels down your neck. 

his kisses are wet and sloppy but you throw your head back anyway, every part of your body burning and begging and aching to be touched by him. and it’s like he knows it, he still knows every part of your body better than you or anyone else in the world, sucking a hickie into your neck as his hands cup your ass. 

“jesus christ, y/n,” he growls into your skin, your eagerness and closeness and warm body against his making all the blood go right to his cock. you can feel it pressing harder against you and let out a whine, pulling his face away from your neck so you can crash your lips against his again. 

it’s a flurry of kissing and sucking and biting, your own hands ripping your shirt over your head before wooyoung’s face is in your chest and sucking hickies onto your skin. you lean your head back and let out a whine, your hand tightening in his hair before you push him back and pull at the bottom of his shirt. 

he can only smirk at the pout on your face, pulling you into him and placing a kiss on your cheek. “still so fucking good for me, aren’t you?” he hums lowly, waiting until you nod for him to pull his shirt off and place a smack on your ass. 

it echoes through your empty house and you let out a whine, pushing yourself against him before he takes your face in his hand.

“and you’ve only been good for me still, right?” he asks lowly, his voice deep and possessive in a way you’ve never heard before. it sends butterflies right through your stomach and in between your legs, wetness pooling in your underwear as he tightens his hold on you. “no one else has fucked you, right?”

and you know that should be the tipping point. 

you know you should rip yourself away from him and slap him again, ask him why the fuck that matters when you know for a fact he’s been with someone else too. he’s been with someone while lying to you and acting as if everything was okay. that you were never indebted to him after the breakup and you still aren’t now. 

but instead, you shake your head and look at him all wide-eyed and glossy, your breathy “only you have fucked me,” making him growl before flipping you over and ridding you from the rest of your clothes. 

he falls to his knees before pulling to the edge of the couch and devouring your dripping pussy, his tongue lapping at you in a way that makes you scream out and push yourself against him. your stomach is tightening and legs are shaking and you can’t stop the moans that are leaving your mouth, repeating his name like a mantra as he slips a finger in.

“oh god, baby,” he growls against your wetness, your hole so tight around his finger he can’t wait to be buried inside of you. 

“let- let me ride you,” you beg despite the way you’re still pushing yourself on his face. it’s a pleasure you don’t ever want to stop but you also wanna feel him inside you, missing so desperately what it feels like to be full of his cock. 

“ah, ah, you gotta come on my tongue first,” he demands lowly, curling his finger inside of you and making you cry out. “you’ve been such a good girl for me. don’t get bad now.”

“b-but i wanna-”

he sucks your clit into his mouth and you scream out, legs shaking and hips bucking into his face before your orgasm hits and you’re shaking against the couch. 

you barely have time to catch your breath before he lifts you up and pulls you on top of him, guiding you over his cock before you sink down on him and you  both moan out at the same time. 

“oh my god,” you whine out at the same time he grunts “fuck,” your movements slow and easy as you adjust to his size in you. but once the slight sting has dulled and he feels you relax slightly, he pulls your face to his and connects your lips. 

“now ride me, baby. i know you’ve missed sitting on my cock, haven’t you?” 

with your hands gripping the back of the couch, you nod as you start to lift your hips up and down, leaning forward every so slightly so you can feel something against your already stimulated clit. 

“answer me. who’s are you? who’s cock have you missed sitting on?”

“y-you, wooyoung. you. i’ve- i’ve missed your cock,” you whine, your hips moving more frantically the more you bounce up and down on him. your breaths are labored and the room feels at least 30 degrees hotter, his grunts and groans and your high-pitched yelps filling the festive living room. 

“you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for this tight pussy again,” he growls out, when he feels himself getting close and needs you to come again before he can release inside of you. “i...you’re mine, baby. you fucking get that now, don’t you? you’re mine. and you’ll always be mine.”

“yes,” you whine out, frantically moving against him before moaning out when he starts fucking up into you. “yes, yes, yes. yours, wooyoung. p-please come, let me come, i wanna feel you-”

his last final grunt cuts you off and you feel your own orgasm take over, both of you riding out your highs and moaning each other’s names over and over until your ears are ringing and hearts are pounding in your chests. 

you’re faintly aware of his hand rubbing up and down your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your head before he pulls out of you and lays on the couch.you close your eyes and let out a tiny whine at his exit, a small smile lingering on wooyoung’s face as he grabs a baby wipe from the bathroom to clean between your legs.

you smile lazily at him when you see him between your legs, cheeky fuck he is placing a teasing kiss between on your clit as he walks away laughing at your squeal. 

he collapses on top of you when he’s back, holding himself up so he doesn’t crush you completely and places another kiss on your neck. he peppers them down your skin and you can only smile, still on the high of your orgasm and feeling loved that you can’t register all the other emotions fighting to break through.

fear and confusion and maybe even slight panic, realizing you just gave in and fucked the life out of the ex-boyfriend you know you’re supposed to hate. 

the doorbell ringing is the first thing that brings you back to reality a few minutes later, jumping up and nearly smacking wooyoung in the head had he not also lifted his head. his eyes are wide but not as bad as you, a smirk on his face as he asks if you’re expecting company.

“i don’t think so?” you say, pulling on your jeans before you start to frantically search for your shirt. wooyoung’s quick to throw you his, a knowing smile on your face because you remember how much he loved to see you in his clothes after you guys had sex. 

and that hasn’t seemed to change. 

“it’s definitely not my parents, they’d just use their key,” you assure him, attempting to fix your messy sexy hair that wooyoung’s always thought was the sexiest shit. “i’ll be right back.”

as you walk through the kitchen and peer out the front door, it feels like time stops when you see a familiar head of hair through the window. it’s like an exact parallel of the day mingi came to see you when you guys made up, except you hadn’t just fucked wooyoung on your couch. 

and sure enough when you open the door, there mingi is with a handful of flowers and a large cup of tea in hand. 

“hey! sorry i’m late, i can’t believe how much-”

his face drops the moment he takes in your appearance, messy hair, flushed pink cheeks, hickies on your neck, and an inside-out t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination of what you just got done doing. 

“traffic there was,” mingi finishes quietly, staring back at your surprised, shocked face in a way that makes his heart drop in his chest - you didn’t remember. 

“i...hi,” is all you dumbly say, the high from before quickly vanishing as you stare at mingi who’s looking more broken-hearted and confused by the second. it’s already making you wanna cry, his usually starry eyes dim and confused as he looks you over. 

“did...you forget i was coming?” he laughs out, humor in his tone that sounds so horribly masked you have to hold back tears. 

“happy new year, y/n! let’s hope this year brings us-”

your aunts words are cut off by blaring of your phone, mingi’s name popping up on your screen making a smile break out across your face; you’re not surprised he’s the first one calling to welcome you into the new year. 

“you should get that,” your aunt smirks, a blush on your cheeks as you shake your head and tell her it’s not like that. 

but she thinks the smile on your face says otherwise, the giggles and laughs and the way you throw your head back as you talk to the person on the other end of the phone. 

“i should be back in two days, you can come see me then drama queen,” you smile into the phone, mingi’s whiney complaints that he misses you so much, he doesn’t think he remembers what you even look like. “i’ll be home around six, i expect you there with flowers and a hot beverage.”

“oh my god.”

guilt like you’ve never experienced rushes through you all at once, face pale and mouth open as tears build up behind your eyes. mingi can see them building and already knows what’s happening, a lump forming so tight in his throat he can only shake his head.

“it’s okay, y/n.”

because he saw the car across the street; he thought, maybe, it was a coincidence - ignorance is bliss, after all, but he knew your reaction was gonna be the only thing he needed to see. and the tears in your eyes makes it pretty obvious what’s going on right now.

“wait. no mingi, it’s not. please. just let me-”

“no, it’s okay, really. i- i should’ve told you i was still coming. how were you supposed to know?” 

“we talked two days ago. i- i remember talking and planning it, i just...”

wooyoung called me, too. wooyoung called me and asked to go ice skating and   it was like after that, everything else was gone from your memory. you were so consumed by that you forgot you were supposed to-

“it’s okay,” he assures again, a small sad smile on his face as he holds out the flowers and drinks. “consider it a special delivery.”

and when you don’t take it, just continue to stare blankly at him, he places the drink and flowers on the steps and turns around wordlessly. because he’s not about to break down and have this conversation with wooyoung in the house, have you explain yourself when he obviously misunderstood things here. 

he’s just about to his car door when he hears your footsteps running after him, his eyes closing tight to fight off the few small tears building in his eyes. 

“mingi, wait. please wait, i-”

“it’s fine, y/n. i...i was stupid,” he laughs out humorlessly, turning around and looking over your already tear-stained face. “i misunderstood and that’s okay. i...we never officially said we were doing hanging out and i-”

“you didn’t misunderstand anything,” you’re quick to tell him, your mind completely clear as you take in mingi’s dejected face; you know you’re both not only talking about tonight’s plans.

you’re talking about the past ten months together. the friendship you built and the lingering touches and smiles. the way you made each other feel so safe and content and at ease. the way you only ever really smiled and laughed around one another.

his face looks familiar now though. his entire demeanor looks familiar, except you think you recognize more because you remember feeling like you looked a lot like that last winter. like you saw something you shouldn’t have and felt hurt in a way no one’s hurt you before. 

and you think those might’ve been the wrong words to say because within the next few silent seconds, mingi’s face morphs from devastation to the smallest hint of anger you’ve ever seen from him.

“don’t say that.”

tears fall from your eyes and you feel like you can’t breathe, watching him grip the handle of his door like he’s dying to get the fuck in his car and away from your house. 

“if...if i didn’t misunderstand anything, y/n, then i... this...” mingi shakes his head because he can’t even fathom this whole situation right now. but he knew from the beginning your relationship was very up in the air, the two of you never officially claiming to be anything. 

“we never talked about anything. our feelings or the kiss, so i did misunderstand things,” mingi confirms again, because this rationalization is easier. not feeling the need to hate you and yell at you and ask what the fuck you were thinking is easier. 

“i thought you were just...you know, figuring it out still so i didn’t wanna pressure you. but maybe that was wrong, maybe you just never wanted-”

“mingi, please. no. i know this looks bad but we can-”

“y/n?” 

wooyoung’s voice makes you both freeze, you keeping your gaze on mingi while his goes to the boy at the door. you can’t see the challenging look in wooyoung’s eyes or the smug look on his face, mingi’s hand tightening on the door as he tells you he’s leaving now.

“what?” you cry out, eyes wide and watery as you shake your head frantically. 

you know you’re being unfair and you know this is over but you can’t help but hold onto just for a second longer, your heart pulling so horribly in your chest, you’re not sure you’ve felt pain like this before.

“i’m leaving, y/n. get away from my car, okay?”

he keeps his voice soft and sweet and quiet, begging you to just go back to wooyoung as he keeps his eyes trained away from the boy. because he knows if he looks at him again, he’s gonna run over and beat the shit out of him.

“mingi, please, i didn’t-”

“it doesn’t matter anymore,” mingi says coldly, voice a bit harsher and louder. “just get away from my car.” 

“i know it looks bad but please, mingi, please, i didn’t mean to-”

“get the fuck away from me.”

your face falls and lower lip quivers, mingi’s face crumbling before he runs his hand over his face. he takes a few deep, calming breaths before his large hand cups your face, daring wooyoung to come over and say something right now, as his thumb runs over your cold skin and wipes at the wetness. 

“i’m sorry. i just...i have to go.”

“i didn’t mean to hurt you,” you blurt out, knowing and seeing clear as day that’s what happened. “i didn’t know... we never said...i...” 

you don’t know what to say but you know this all feels very fucking wrong. you know that you feel like you messed up one of the best friendships and relationships you’ve ever had, the pulling feeling deep within your gut making you wanna vomit.

“i know, y/n, it’s okay,” he assures gently, his hand falling from your face and making you feel ten degrees colder. “i just gotta go, okay? please.”

your face crumbles as you find that you can’t look away from him, only backing away when he’s able to open the door and wedge himself in. 

he turns on his car and puts it drive before he can even put his seatbelt on, his eyes never leaving yours until he’s taking off down the block and suddenly the neighborhood is quiet. 

you hear footsteps making their way up behind you but can’t move from your spot, staring at the spot his car just occupied before arms wrap around your body.

you can feel now that they’re far too cold and far too short and feel far too wrong. how could you have not felt this before? known that this just didn’t feel right?

“wooyoung’s my friend but so are... so were you.”

you watch mingi’s fingers rest on the couch cushion next to you as you let out a small, shaky breath, something about his words causing you to look up and narrow your eyes.

“were?”

a pink, dare you say, nervous, blush crosses his face that causes you to hold back a laugh, his eyes wide as he shakes his head quickly.

“are. you are my friend,” he clarifies quickly, unsure eyes still roaming you. “i just...wasn’t sure if you still wanted to be.”

his stammered words coupled in with his pink cheeks and dark, wind-blown hair have a small smile stretching across your face, a sigh leaving your mouth as you shake your head at him and shrug.

“well, i guess i can’t lose you too, huh?”

“i’m happy you’re mine again,” wooyoung whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting over your lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “we can work through this, okay? you know how much i love you, baby.”

but do you really know that? what about when the next girl comes along, with dark hair and a pretty smile and makes him feel so desired, he just tells you that again because he knows, in the end, you’ll believe him?

the end

tag list: @mochibabycakes​ @atinyarmyx1​ @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich​ @minbinwhore​ @chrryhwa​ @chogiout​ @marksflvr​ @bunbaebae​ @markleeyeosang​ @inkigayeo​ @nlost21​ @toffee-hwa​

[nctxdreamies]

A Silent Love

speak up, i’m listening

summary: wonwoo is known to be the quietest, most introverted, cold guy on campus. his feelings are only kept to himself until someone shows up...

who: wonwoo x female reader

genre: fluff, college

warnings: none :)

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i kinda love wonwoo so i had to write something up, hope you like it!

you’ve always been on top and focused on your studies

the only person that really kept you sane was your best friend joshua

he’s been by your side since day 1

you could never imagine where you’d be in the world right now without him

everyone always thought you two had a thing for each other

at one point that was true

things took a turn and you two thought it was best to just stay as friends

after that incident your friendship grew even stronger than before

both of you cringe at the fact that you used to date

you two agreed on to never bring it up ever again

you’re surprised that joshua and you even get along because of how different you guys are

he’s a total social butterfly, has so many friends, parties a lot ocassionally, and somehow still manages to get good grades

you on the other hand focus on studying, have a few close friends but joshua is your second half, and barely get out of your apartment

you wouldn’t consider yourself as an introvert nor an extrovert, somewhere in between...

studies were on top of everything, you had no time to focus on a relationship other than your strong friendship with joshua

especially after that incident, you knew that you could be independent

one day joshua went out partying late

he didn’t answer any of your calls or texts

it didn’t concern you since this wasn’t the first this happened

you couldn’t sleep knowing that joshua wasn’t home yet

you were always concerned about his well being but he always said that you worried too much for him

while waiting on joshua and studying for finals a phone call reached your phone at 3:00 am

this was odd since the number didn’t look familiar

you decided to pick it up anyways

“hello?”

“hi i have your best friend and he’s wasted right now, i’ll be there in 5”

“oh sorry who is this-“

you got cut off from the person on the other line hanging up

thoughts were running through your brain wondering who that could’ve been

exactly 5 minutes later there was a knock at your apartment door

you looked through the peeping hole to reveal joshua and a tall guy wearing a black mask, and bucket hat basically covering half of his face

you really only worried about joshua at this point since he was on the ground

the guy was struggling to hold him up

you immediately opened the door and right when you opened it you saw him dashing off around the corner really fast

you thought that was the weirdest thing ever

you picked joshua up and threw him on the couch

“jeez this guy is so wasted”

you looked back at your phone and saw the number and decided to text it

“thanks for bringing my friend home, sorry about that...”

‘read’

“oh wow what a way to say no problem”

the next morning you woke up later than usual and jolted out the door looking like a mess

good thing your morning bus ride to campus was long enough to get ready

you got on the bus and it was packed, there weren’t any spots left to sit in

there was one window seat open near the back

you headed down there and asked the person sitting in that row if you could sit there

he just moved over and let you through

right when you sat down a weird feeling got to you

you glanced to your left and the guy looked exactly like the one who brought joshua home last night

he was wearing the exact same bucket hat and black mask, this time his eyes were showing and he had a pair of round glasses on

he was just scrolling on his phone looking through social media

you decided to get ready while the bus started moving

there was a bump in the road and the makeup brush in your lap fell and rolled into the aisle

“shoot” you whispered under your breath

he quickly picked it up and handed it to you

you took it from his hand and locked eyes for a good 5 seconds

“thanks” you smiled

he went back to scrolling on his phone again

“hey weren’t you the guy that brought joshua home last night?”

“oh...um yeah, how’d you recognize me?”

“the bucket hat and mask! you seemed to be in a rush last night huh?”

“... yeah i was out later than usual”

the bus stopped at the campus and you both got up

you were surprised that he was getting up as well

you exited the bus and before he started walking off you caught up to him

“wait! are you a student here too?”

“yeah it’s my third year”

“woah really, mine as well!”

he didn’t seem much of a talker, he just wanted to get away from you

“by the way my name is y/n and i major in biology” you turned to him and smiled

“i’m wonwoo, i’m also in biology” he was basically whispering this

“how come i’ve never noticed you until now?”

“i guess it’s cause i’m always in the back and the first one to leave” he shrugged his shoulders

little did you know he knew who you were before you even talked to each other

you stood out to him in class since you were always paying attention, never late, and very active on the biology chat page

he knew you were out of his league and that’s why he was so cold and trying to avoid you

he eventually got over you even though he never talked to you once

but then the feelings rushed back when you started talking

“we should study together one day, and plus it’s finals season”

“i actually don’t study with other people... i kinda enjoy being alone”

“i can tell, you seem like the quiet type huh”

“i guess you could say that”

he suddenly turned the wrong direction to try and get away from you

“you know that’s not the right way”

he kept going and ignored you

you walked in class and noticed wonwoo already there

“wait i thought you were going the opposite way, how’d you get here before me?”

“i know ways” he glanced at you with a cold look

you just walked away to go sit at your seat

class ended and you turned around to go meet wonwoo again but he wasn’t there

you went to the library to study since it had the best lighting and comfy chairs between the bookshelves

you made your way there to your usual spot near the back, there was a tucked away table and chairs

someone was sitting there which surprised you since nobody really knew about this spot in the library

their back was facing you, but you decided to see who it was

“oh hey there wonwoo! i didn’t know you’d be here”

he looked up at you in shock

“this is where i normally go, what are you doing here?”

“i study here all the time, so you’re full of secrets” you laughed

you managed to crack a little smirk on his mouth

“so what are you up to?”

“i’m reviewing the content from the first few lectures”

you grabbed a seat beside him and started looking over the content he was looking at too

he felt uncomfortable by this but this was the only way he could get closer to you

you looked over at his test papers he was studying from

“woah you’re so good, how do you get grades like this?!”

“i just work my butt off i guess” he smiled

this was the first time you actually saw him smile so genuinely

“hey you should keep smiling like that, it looks good on you”

his eyes widened a bit and his cheeks were starting to warm up

he ran his hand through his hair and turned the other way in embarrassment

“well anyways i gotta go check up on joshua he’s still at the apartment”

“oh alright”

he seemed kinda sad that you were leaving so fast

“if you ever wanna study again together you got my number in your phone” you grabbed your stuff and left

that night while you were flipping through your textbook violently joshua knocked at your room door

“hey y/n sorry about last night, i was a total mess”

“whatever that’s all on you, at least someone brough you home safely”

“wait that wasn’t you?”

“no i was worried waiting for you all night”

“then who was that...” his eyes widened

“it was wonwoo, he brought you home”

“wonwoo... wonwoo” his face was confused

“oh like wonwoo in your major!”

“you know him?”

“yeah of course i do, we’ve talked a lot before since he loves music as well”

“oh wow he doesn’t seem like that type of guy, if anything he’s so cold and quiet”

“are you serious? this guy is NOT like that”

“he’s literally like that to everyone in our major, he’s that guy who sits at the back and listens along”

“you’ve never seen the real him i guess... why don’t the three of us go get a coffee tomorrow, then you can see how he really is”

“you know i’ve gotta study dude i don’t have time for this” you have him a disappointed look

“come on y/n you’re not studying for the whole dayyy” he started sulking

“ugh you’re so annoying. FINE if it will make you stop acting like this i’ll go”

he smiled and walked out of your room

you continued studying all night

your phone suddenly lit up with a text

“hey y/n i’m not sure if you got these notes but here they might help you study” *sent an attachment*

you opened it and everything on there were the things you struggled with the most

“wow thank you, this is really what i need right now!”

‘read’

joshua knocked on your bedroom door and that woke you up

“good morning y/n it’s time to get ready we’re going out for our coffee hangout”

you totally forgot about that so you started rushing to get ready

there was a knock on the front door and joshua opened it

you could hear a little bit of the conversation but you were more focused on getting ready

you walked out to the living room and saw wonwoo and joshua sitting on the couch talking together

“you’re finally ready, you literally take ages to do all that”

“not my fault you woke me up late”

“let’s get going” joshua gestured you guys to the door

you guys got to the cafe and found a booth near the back

“so wonwoo how has studying been for you?” joshua asked

“pretty good, i feel ready surprisingly”

you sat there feeling nervous about the finals

“y/n you need to relax this is a great way to reset and take a break from studying” joshua insisted

you all ordered your food and drinks and began talking

“so y/n told me you’re very quiet wonwoo”

“oh uh i guess i’m like that at school”

“oh come on wonwoo you barely talk, i never knew you were in my class”

“yikes well this is a great time to get to know each other” joshua smiled

you guys started talking for a while and enjoyed the conversation

you were able to have wonwoo open up more about himself

joshua’s phone started ringing and interrupted

he instantly left and said that he was sorry for leaving really early

“i guess it was urgent...”

wonwoo just shrugged

it started to get awkward without having joshua there

“so i heard you’re into music?”

“oh yeah, joshua probably told you... i kinda like making music”

“woah actually that’s so cool, could i hear a sample?” you asked

“it’s not really done but i have a short recording on my phone”

he let you listen to it

“dang that’s so good! i didnt know you did this type of stuff!”

“yeah it’s been a longtime hobby of mine”

you and wonwoo kept talking for a couple of hours now and you both started to lose track of time

suddenly joshua texted you

“oh my we’ve been here for so long, i better get going and plus i still need to study”

you started packing up and just before you could leave wonwoo’s hand stopped you

you turned around

“y/n i had such a great time today, thank you”

“me too we should definitely do this again!”

he didn’t respond except he just looked straight into your eyes

“i need to tell you something” wonwoo broke the silence

“yeah what’s up?”

he took your hand and led you outside

it was so beautiful with the sunset and you were both in awe

he brought you to a nearby lookout to watch the sunset

“wow it’s gorgeous up here” you exclaimed

“yeah i normally go here when i’m stressed”

“so what was it that you were going to tell me?” you asked

he started getting nervous and turned towards you

“well... this may seem so sudden but y/n i really want get this weight off my shoulders...”

you looked really worried

“i like you. i can’t keep being so cold and quiet to you, it really hurts me.”

he just said it so confidently

you didn’t know what to do, it felt so sudden and out of the blue

your words didn’t come out and you were just stuttering

“i like you too wonwoo, you’re such an amazing guy and i’d love to get to know you better”

he finally felt relieved from your response

he couldn’t help it and leaned over to kiss you

you didn’t hesistate to kiss back, it’s like you were meant for each other

he pulled away and held your hands and you both watched the sunset as you leaned your head on his shoulder

it started getting dark and he started walking you home

“how long did you have these feelings for me?”

“now that’s a long story” he laughed

“wait so even before i met you that night when you took joshua home?”

“i guess you can say so” he smiled

“i’m sorry i ran away that night without meeting you. i was too nervous to face you” he said

“what why? i was wondering why you left in such a hurry”

“yeah i just get nervous around you that’s why i’ve been so mean to you”

“what you weren’t mean to me... well kinda just a little cold”

“i’m sorry y/n”

you stopped and hugged him

you two reached your apartment and he watched you go in safely

“good night y/n” he texted you

“good night wonwoo.” you replied back

joshua was standing at the door smiling when you came in

“what’s wrong with you?” you looked at him and laughed

“i saw it all y/n don’t hide”

your face turned red and you ran to your room

“oh my y/n don’t worry if you don’t want to tell me i’ll just ask wonwoo”

you opened your door to a smiling joshua

“you- stop smiling like that” you rolled your eyes

“come on you two are so cute how could i not”

“ugh whatever, i need to study bye” you started pushing him out of your room

the next morning you were just about to head out your door, you opened it and saw wonwoo standing there

“oh nice to see you” you smiled brightly at wonwoo

he hugged you and kissed your forehead

you could hear joshua making a big deal out of it behind you

you closed the door behind you and left with wonwoo

wonwoo is still a shy guy when it comes to being with you in public

you absolutely don’t care about what people think

you still love him even though he’s still like this, it’s kinda cute

he rarely shows affection to you in public because the thought of pda just makes him feel weird

he respects you for who you are and isn’t the guy to be overly attached with you

he’s truly someone you’ve been dreaming of

[chai-tealattae]

Pen Pals

soul mate /ˈsōl ˌmāt/

noun; a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

✒️ Pairing: Taehyung x reader

✒️ Genre: Fluff

✒️ Word Count: 2.4k

✒️ Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This is my first fic pls be nice AKSDK

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Tomorrow was your 21st birthday, the day your soulmate connection would be revealed to you. You’d heard stories from your parents, family friends, and even some of your friends that were a year or two older than you about the different connections. What if you got one that would make it damn near impossible to find them? What if your soulmate was older than you, and already knew, but gave up since you were too young? You sighed and laid flat on your back, staring at the ceiling, giving up on your futile attempts at a decent night's sleep, your mind hot with the different scenarios baking within it.

The next morning, you groaned and begrudgingly swung your legs over the side of your bed, stretching as you opened the curtains, the mid morning sunlight flooding into your room. You cringed slightly at the brightness, your eyes struggling to adjust. Yawning as you walked into your kitchen, deciding on a bowl of cereal for breakfast. Scrolling through your phone as you ate, you smiled as you read the birthday wishes from your friends and family. After replying to as many as you felt like doing, you opened Twitter to see what fresh hell awaited you on your timeline. Surprisingly there wasn't really anything bad being mercilessly tweeted about.

The one thing that caught your eye was the lovely photo on your screen, tweeted a couple hours ago, staring back at you. It was embarrassing how infatuated you were with a certain man by the name of Kim Taehyung. He was the perfect man, in all honesty, by your standards at least. He was devilishly handsome yet charmingly adorable from the tip of his nose down to his toes, the smallest details all adding to the things that caused him to worm his way into your heart.

You smiled as you saved the picture to your camera roll before setting your phone down on the table. Your smile quickly turned into a surprised squeak as you felt an oddly ticklish sensation on your wrist, and you stared down at it in shock. Appearing on your skin before your eyes was writing, but it wasn't just any writing. It was a greeting.

“Hello?”

This must be it, your soulmate bond. You didn’t know anyone personally with this particular bond, but you’d read about it through your countless nights of curiosity and excitement driven research.

You nearly tripped on your own feet as you scrambled to find some kind of writing utensil, eager to respond to the stranger. Not just a stranger. Your soulmate. You felt your heart rate quicken just at that thought. You found a pen on your counter, quickly scribbling a response below their message.

“Hello!” You wrote back. Not 30 seconds later, you felt the tickling sensation again, impatiently tapping your pen on the counter as you awaited their response.

“It’s you! You’re finally getting my notes!” You smiled to yourself, your late night suspicion confirming itself. They were definitely older than you, but hopefully not by much. You’d hate if you left your soulmate waiting for too long for you.

“How long have you been trying?” You wrote, a little smaller this time near the ditch of your elbow, so you wouldn’t take up too much valuable space on your skin. You bit your lip as you felt your skin tingle again, hoping it wasn’t too bad-

“Four years” Four years. Four whole years they’d been writing on themselves with no response. You sighed, feeling awful. Well, at least you knew how old they were. Twenty-five, twenty-six tops, if their birthday was coming up sometime soon.

“I'm sorry you waited so long… today is my 21st birthday” you wrote back, twisting your arm at a slightly awkward angle as you did this. You smiled softly, growing familiar with, and anticipating the feeling as they wrote.

“Happy birthday :)” Was written there. You smiled and wrote your thanks, not really sure how to proceed with finding them. You’d read that there were specific guidelines when it came to the different connections, things you weren’t able to do, since that would make finding your soulmate too easy. Things like their exact location, names, things of that nature. The catch is, you were able to reveal that when you were in the same vicinity. As if trying to find them wouldn’t be hard enough.

Over the next month or so, you’d learned that your soulmate was a man that was born in South Korea (you didn’t know how you’d ever be able to swing a trip there, or vice versa). You learned that he enjoyed drawing, painting, photography, singing and dancing. He was fun to talk to (at least until there wasn't any more space on either of your bodies for more ink). He had a pretty time consuming career from what he told you, but he still liked to draw you pictures to wake up to, or write you little good morning messages. You found yourself becoming incredibly fond of him, even without ever seeing his face.

One day, you found yourself staring at your laptop and phone screens, focusing excruciatingly hard on trying to score tickets to see BTS in your city. After nearly missing the opportunity, and a decent amount of money you’d surely have to pull quite a bit of overtime to make up for, you scored a decent seat for their show in a couple months. Eager to share the news with someone, you wrote on your arm.

“I just got tickets to see BTS!!” You wrote with a shaky hand, your already poor penmanship suffering even more. This would be your first time seeing them, seeing the man you’d had your eyes on for so long.

~~~~~

Taehyung smiled when he felt you were writing or perhaps drawing something for him. He loved reading your short messages about your day, getting to know you. Over the past months he was growing more and more impatient, half tempted to fly to the States and wing it. His heart nearly thudded out of his chest when he read what you wrote.

“I just got tickets to see BTS!!”

Holy shit. This was good. This was great, actually. Now he knew you were a fan. Jimin looked over when he saw the stupid grin plastered on his bandmate’s face.

“What is it, Taehyung-ah?” He asked. Taehyung didn’t answer verbally, just angled his arm so Jimin could see what you wrote. He broke into his own smile. “Oh this is good! Maybe you're closer to meeting her than you thought.” He said, patting the younger man’s back. Taehyung smiled with a nod, you being the only thing occupying his mind at the moment.

~~~~~

It was the day of your concert and you could barely contain your excitement. You barely slept the night before, knowing you would be exhausted, but couldn't find it in yourself to care all too much. You’d been waiting for what seemed like forever for this day, and weren't going to let anything, not even your lack of sleep, ruin it for you.

The day seemed to drag even longer than usual, before you figured it was a good time to start getting ready. You got dressed in an outfit that you purchased specifically for this event, a more affordable version of the Dior outfits Rap Line sported during their performances of Tear, and you put on your TaTa headband as the final touch. You know, so everyone knew specifically who you were there for. You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time, smiling and letting out an excited squeak as you grabbed everything you would need, before you made your way to the venue.

The venue was absolutely packed. There was no way you’d be able to even get any merch without missing half the concert standing in that line. You sighed quietly to yourself and went to your seat, busying yourself with syncing your lightstick so it would light up with everyone else's. You looked around from your seat, in awe about how many people were here. Crazy how many people could fit into one space.

While you waited for the concert to start, you decided to write him a message about how excited you were, and that you would keep him updated throughout the show. You decided to draw a small heart on your hand, in the space between your pointer finger and thumb, just because. You smiled when you saw his words appear on your arm.

“Have fun <3”

Oh, you would. You would have the time of your life. Little did you know, in more ways than one.

~~~~

Taehyung knew you had to be here somewhere. You just had to be. He ran a hand through his perfectly groomed hair, effectively rendering his stylist’s hard work useless. He couldn’t help it. Not when he knew his soulmate was in this building. His mind started to race. What if you didn’t want to be with him? What if you liked one of the other members better than him? What if you couldn’t deal with his lifestyle? He was pacing now, and everyone but him seemed to notice.

“Taehyung-ah, relax. I’m sure everything will work out fine.” Namjoon smiled reassuringly. Taehyung nodded and let out a breath, sitting down. They were called to start getting into position, and Taehyung knew he had to do it, now or he wouldn’t have time, and you would slip through his fingers. He pulled out his pen, writing one word on his forearm in larger than usual letters. He put his pen in his pocket, heading to where his microphone and earpieces were waiting for him, hoping you would see his message.

~~~~~

When the concert started, you could barely focus on anything else other than the men on stage in front of you. You felt the familiar tickle on your arm that your soulmate had written you, though you ignored it for the time being. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of Taehyung, witnessing his incredible stage presence and the massive amount of fan service he was giving was mesmerising, to say the least.

When time for the intermission came around, and the VCRs played on the big screens, you took a moment to see what your soulmate wrote to you. You gasped when you saw the big, capital letters spread along the length of your forearm.

“TAEHYUNG”

There was no way. Absolutely no fucking way. Kim Taehyung was not your soulmate. You had to have been some sort of saint in your previous life to deserve such treatment from the universe. You stared at your arm for a few more seconds in complete disbelief, before taking your pen out of your pocket, writing your name under his on your arm. A minute later, you felt him writing, and you anxiously chewed at your lip as you awaited his response.

“Where are you?”

You hurriedly scribbled your section and seat number, your brain barely able to process what was happening.

Within 5 minutes, there was a man approaching you, asking you to confirm your name. When you did, he told you to come with him, you did without asking any questions. The man led you backstage, and you looked around, frantically trying to find the familiar face in the crowd of stage hands.

When your eyes finally met his, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Was it anxiety? Excitement? A spicy mixture of both? You couldn’t really tell, but there were some things you needed to see. His long legs effortlessly closed the distance between you, until you were standing toe to toe. You looked up at him and he looked down at you, neither of you truly believing you were here at this moment. You studied his face for a moment, then without a word, you took his hands, inspecting them. There it was. You brought your hand up and compared, the tiny heart you drew on your hand matching the one on his. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the messages you’d written to each other throughout the day.

“Y/N…” He said quietly, only loud enough that you could hear. “I finally found you. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“I can’t believe it’s you.” You said as you looked up at him, tears beginning to form in the corners of your eyes.  He smiled and brought his hand to gently cup your cheek, his thumb lightly brushing against your cheekbone.  

“Are you disappointed?” He asked with a chuckle, his tone teasing. You shook your head, letting out a quiet laugh.

“Not even a little bit.” You reassured him, smiling softly. He gave you a toothy grin before leaning down and closing the small space between you, and you couldn’t help but melt when his lips finally met yours. The kiss was soft and careful, as if he was testing the waters. When you pushed slightly against his lips, he deepened the kiss just a little more.

He was the first to pull away, seemingly remembering his surroundings, and you caught the faintest tint of pink creep onto his face. It was almost time for him to go back on stage, and he rested his forehead against yours for a moment, his eyes locked with yours as he intertwined your fingers with his.

“Wait for me? I plan to talk to you for hours, now that I can finally hear your voice.” He said, and you nodded without hesitation. He smiled widely before pressing a kiss to your forehead, jogging off to wherever it was he was needed. You sat on the couch that was there for the members beside the stage, running a hand through your hair. Never in your wildest dreams did you think something like this could happen. Not to you, at least. You felt him writing again, and this time, you paid full attention to the words appearing along your arm.

“I love you.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you read those 3 words, pulling out your pen and writing your response.

“I love you too.” You wrote, carefully, easily readable. Never had you meant something more in your life. You couldn’t wait for him to come back to you, for him to execute his plan. After what felt like a very long time, you couldn’t wait to finally begin your life with the man you happily called your soulmate.

[iceshard1011]

Before the world fell at our feet

Ships: platonic Moxiety, pre-romantic Anxceit (but really it's up to interpretation)

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Janus, Logan is there briefly

Also on Ao3!

Fic below the cut.

Some convoluted exchange of 'Ding Dong Ditch' except they talk about their feelings and try to resolve inner turmoil and maybe reach some sort of reconciliation. Not too hastily, though. They still hate each other, of course. Of course.

The silence of the hallway shattered with a flurry of tentative knocks against dark-painted wood.

“You haven’t been answering your phone, kiddo,” called a soft, almost shy voice. “I was wondering if you were doing okay, since... you know, things have been... tough, lately.” The room inside stayed quiet, no matter how carefully he listened. “I was hoping... you could come out for some food? We could bake together, if you’d like. It’s...” He laughed. It was mirthless and sad. “It’s sure been a while since we got to do that, yeah?”

Silence. Not even rustling sheets or a frustrated sigh.

He leaned back, trying not to look too obviously hurt — as if Virgil could see through his door. The wood was slightly chipped. He wondered when that had happened. Recently? Or had it been there for longer than he wanted to know?

He rubbed the back of his neck, pondering. What could he do? Virgil clearly didn’t want to talk to him... and he couldn’t be blamed, really.

“I just... thought it might make you feel a little better,” he tried. Virgil might not even be in there — there was no proof he was even listening. It was stupid to be doing this.

“I’ve seen you’ve been hanging out with Roman a lot more recently,” he went on. “That’s…” Unexpected. “Good. It’s so good, kiddo. You both did so well talking to Nico. I know Roman appreciates what you did.”

He trailed a finger down a small jagged crack in the purple paint.

“I wish I could have seen it in person,” he murmured truthfully. Wish I could have been the one who caused it. Wish I could have been the one you risked everything for.

But no — that was bad. Bad and selfish, and he couldn’t be like that. Thomas was trying to fix that about him, but people didn’t change easily, especially after years of a practiced notion. Life just didn't work like that.

“I only heard about the way your eyeshadow changed colour from the others,” he continued softly. “I bet you were just the prettiest thing in the world.”

He half expected to hear a huff or the shuffle of material as Virgil tried to work off his embarrassment. He didn’t hear the slightest hint of movement.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and his voice broke. He clenched his fists, trying not to stain the floor with salty droplets. “I’m so... sorry, for everything, Virgil. For hurting you. For doing all the wrong things by you. For not being who you needed me to be, when you needed it the most.”

Against his will, his stinging eyes blurred further and spots on the carpet grew darker beneath him. “I’m sorry.”

He waited.

Nothing.

This was pointless. There was nothing on the other side of that door except silence and emptiness.

You told yourself not to get your hopes up, he thought, pulling back.

“I’ll... get out of your hair. I’m sorry for bothering you.”

The hallway remained still apart from the downtrodden shuffling footsteps slowly retreating.

Inside the bedroom, the embodiment of anxiety bit his lip so hard he tasted iron.

A few days later, Virgil crept out of his room for the first time in weeks, driven by his grumbling stomach and the ache in his chest. He rubbed the sleeves of his hoodie between his fingers in a repetitive, patterned motion. His breathing matched the movement. It became more forced as he descended the stairs. The kitchen was quiet, but not empty.

Virgil swallowed. No backing out now.

“Hey, Pat,” he said slowly. Patton looked up from where he was making pancakes at the stove. His face lit up, but from the way he wrung his hands together, Virgil could tell that he was restraining himself.

“Good morning, Virge,” he said. His voice was soft. It didn’t match the way his eyes shone with delight. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” said Virgil. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just... wanted to apologise.”

Patton’s eyes blew wide. “Um... For what?”

That caught Virgil off-guard. Why was Patton avoiding it? Usually he was open to anyone trying to talk about their thoughts. Had Virgil done something wrong? Had he made a mistake hiding from him? He shuffled in place.

“Don't make me, like... say it,” he grumbled.

Patton looked baffled, but pleasantly so. He smiled and shook his head. “Say what, kid — uh —”

“For ignoring you last night,” Virgil said, interrupting before Patton could stammer too much.

Patton blinked, tilting his head like a dog. “Last night...?”

Virgil frowned. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to —”

“Oh, no, of course not!” Patton said, shaking his head and raising his hands. “I just got a little confused! I’m more than happy to — Oh! Good morning, Logan!”

Virgil resisted the urge to glance over his shoulder. All he got from the others now, aside from Patton, was awkward silences and loaded glares. It was doubtful that his anxiety would take kindly to one of Logan's indifferent silences this early in the morning.

“Good morning.” Logan’s response was cold... but it was a response, at least. The logical side came into Virgil’s view as he moved into the kitchen and brewed himself a mug of coffee without another word.

Patton turned back to Virgil, hands outstretched. “Virgil —”

“It’s fine,” Virgil said. Patton’s face flashed with hurt, and Virgil’s chest tinged painfully. He met Patton’s gaze meaningfully. “Really.”

Patton noticeably relaxed. He smiled, and it looked natural, and continued to make breakfast. Virgil shuffled down on his seat, listening to Patton’s pitiful attempt to converse with Logan, and tried not to cringe.

Virgil stood in front of a closed bedroom door and hated the queasy feeling in his stomach.

“Look, if this is how you felt the other night, my bad. I feel awkward as fuck.” Virgil was too scared to pause. If he paused, there was no doubt he would start overthinking, and then he’d back out, and then maybe he’d regret it. Virgil was so sick of regretting things. “And uh. Just for the record, you got the cardigan wrong. Again. So maybe just… stop trying.”

He noticed with a jolt that he was digging his fingernails into his wrists. He pried his arms apart and forced the words through his throat. “You’ve already got Thomas and Patton backing you. You can stop acting like a cheesy cartoon villain and just start trying to get the rest of our good wishes.” He realised how wrong that felt to say, and moved to cover up: “Not mine, though. Sorry, not sorry. That’s not happening for a while. Ever, actually. Don’t hold your breath.”

Virgil grinded his teeth, trying not to wince at himself. “I still hate you, is my point. But you make Patton happy, and... I guess you look after Thomas, in your own way.”

He looked at the ground. He thought of comforting smiles that spread warmth across his chest like wildfire. He thought about his anxiety being unconsciously battled into submission each time he was welcomed into each room he crept carefully into.

He thought about calming tactics and kind eyes and gentle voices and grey turning into patched purple. “I’m... definitely in no position to judge someone for that sort of shit.”

Virgil shook his head, trying to clear his mind. He had a point. Get to the point.

“Look, my point is that — fuck you, fuck this whole situation. You’re still a pretentious asshole.” He frowned. “But... stop pretending to be someone you’re not. It’s getting tedious.”

As he talked, he wondered if he imagined the shuffle on the other side of the door, like someone trying to muffle noise. He pushed the thought away.

Get to the point, part of his mind urged again. Be brave. Be brave, damnit.

“Every one of Thomas’ sides deserves to be themselves without fear or judgement,” he said finally, spilling the words from his mouth like hot coffee he’d swallowed too fast. He took a breath, like it had taken energy to finally say it, and registered the deafening silence swirling heavily around him.

That’s all I got.

It didn’t feel like a microphone-dropping statement, or something that he thought the embodiment of deceit really wanted to hear. But he’d said it, and he’d meant it, and he thought that maybe that was enough.

He slipped away, fleeing back to his room, because he would never be anything more than a coward.

But if the next morning saw Virgil wandering downstairs to find Patton and Janus winding around each other as they made breakfast, he might've been rubbing at his cheeks to clear the exhaustion from his eyes, or perhaps cover up the smallest remnants of purple sparkles.

[lenathogwarts]

I’ll see you tomorrow (Ransom Drysdale x Reader)

Summary: You work as Ransom’s cleaner and have to deal with the outcome of one of his bad days. 

A/N: I had quite the week and got inspired by all the shit that went down these last few days - this is the result! 😂 Enjoy! ♥ (if you have any specific story requests or want to be tagged in future fics, just send me a message 😊 Likes and Reblogs are appreciated! ♥) 

Warnings: language, description of injuries and blood and Ransom being in a mood - a little bit of angst (maybe?) but it’s intended to be fluffy :) 

Word Count: 1526

Ransom Drysdale had hired you as his cleaner almost half a year ago. While it was not the most glamorous job, the generous hourly wage helped in paying your tuition fees and keeping your family afloat. Even Ransom himself had grown on you. Maybe a little too much than you would have liked to admit. 

Even though the two of you got along most of the time, he still had these days on which he hated everything and everyone. You included. On such days he had the tendency to turn mean and outright hurtful, trying to provoke everyone around him into playing his stupid little games for dominance. 

Today was such a day. You had felt the strange atmosphere the moment you had let yourself in through the back door into the kitchen. So, you fell into the routine you had developed early on: staying out of Ransom's sight and being as quiet as possible, while you made your way around the house. If you were lucky, he wouldn’t even notice you were here. However, Ransom wasn’t the only one, who had a bad day today. This morning you had awoken with terrible back pain and only a cocktail of various painkillers and the impending threat of missing a daily wage kept you on your feet. 

As quietly as possible you cleaned the rooms downstairs before tiptoeing past the closed doors to Ransom's study. You were pretty sure that he had locked himself in there, as with his worst days oftentimes came a burst of creativity. Maybe he would finally be able to finish the novel he had been working on these last several months. 

As you made your way up the stairs, the stabbing pain in your back became more noticeable once again. The painkillers were probably starting to wear off. Trying to ignore the pain, you tried to focus on the task at hand. You checked the guestrooms, but they were still untouched, so the only rooms left to clean were Ransom's bed- and bathroom. Maybe you could be finished in half an hour and finally go home. Your hopes were shattered the moment you pushed the bedroom door open. 

“Holy Shit”, you muttered underneath your breath, stepping into the room. 

You didn’t know where to start: the shards of broken glass on the floor, the ripped bedsheets and pillowcases or the innumerable feathers that once had been cushion filling and now covered every single surface in the room. Obviously, you had underestimated Ransom’s mood. Today was not just a bad day, but he was in destruction mode. 

Okay, first things first. 

There was no way, that you could get anything done if there was shattered glass everywhere. So, you started picking up the pieces, dropping them into the cleaning bucket, steadily working your way further into the room. Every time you bent down and straightened yourself up again, the pain in your back got worse. Cringing, you went on to pick up the last few shards. However, as you bent down again, something else caught your eye. Carefully, you knelt down on the floor, stretching your arm and pulled the item from underneath Ransom’s bed. 

Whatever kind of lingerie it originally had been, there wasn’t much left of it. Clearly, Ransom hadn’t been alone last night. And for a reason, you were not quite ready to acknowledge yet, it made your heartache. You threw the lingerie into the cleaning bucket – a little too forceful, as you came to notice the next second as you pulled your hand back, blood covering the inside of your palm. 

“Fuck!”, you cursed, pushing yourself to your feet and hurrying into the bathroom. Just as you reached for the sink, you slipped on a discarded piece of clothing, hitting your back on the bathtub as you crashed to the floor. For a moment you couldn’t see anything as you gasped for air. For a couple of seconds, you just sat there, trying to not let the pain overwhelm you. 

Then you tried to get up. But the moment you even made a slight movement fire seemed to erupt all the way down your spine. Clumsily you reached for the piece of clothing that had caused this whole situation in the first place and wrapped it around your bleeding hand. This way, you wouldn’t have to clean up your own blood additionally to Ransom’s entire mess afterwards. 

Tears started welling in your eyes – you weren’t quite sure if they were purely caused by pain or if your growing frustration played a part of it as well. You felt completely helpless – and it made you furious. And even though you hated the thought, there was no way in hell, that you could get out of this alone. So, the realisation of what you had to do slowly started to settle in. 

You swallowed all your pride, feelings and pain and tried your best to find your poker face, before doing the only thing that could be done. 

“Ransom!”

You called his name from the top of your lungs. Hopefully, he was still in his study and wasn’t listening to music while he was writing. Otherwise, you could be sitting here for hours. 

A minute passed by, but – no response. You shouted his name once again.  

After the third time, you could hear a door being slammed shut, followed by loud steps on the staircase. He was pissed – but Ransom’s mood wasn’t your priority right now. You braced yourself for what was to come. 

“In the bathroom”, you shouted and a moment later Ransom appeared in the doorframe, towering over you like the God of Rage. 

“What?!” Ransom snarled, looking down at you, a storm brewing in his eyes and you swallowed hard. Even though you were sure that there had been no other possibility of getting up on your own, his intimidating appearance made you doubt yourself. Maybe you should have tried harder. Not able to withhold his cold gaze, your eyes flickered to the side. 

“I can’t get up”, you whispered, embarrassed and unsure of yourself. 

“You look perfectly fine to me.”

“I fell and – I – my back, my hand”, you began to stammer, stumbling over your own words, hating how stupid it sounded even to your own ears. 

Why was Ransom the only one who could make you feel insecure about the littlest things? It wasn’t as if you were bothering him unnecessarily. You sat bleeding on his bathroom floor in which he did God knows what, with God knows whom. It was all his fault, not yours. 

You took a quick look at him, testing the waters. He would help you, wouldn’t he?  Yes, he was in a mood, but even Ransom couldn’t-

“I really have to do everything around here.”

With these words, he made his way over to you and he crouched down in front of you, bringing his face unexpectedly close to your own. 

“On three, okay?”

“Okay”, you whispered, bracing yourself. 

“One.” 

Ransom started counting, putting one of his arms around your back and the other underneath your legs. 

“Two.” You could feel how he strengthened his grip. 

“Three.” 

He lifted you with ease, holding you close against him as he carried you out of his chaotic rooms bridal style. 

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. 

“Do you think you can stand?”, Ransom asked, as he reached the hallway, ending the moment even sooner than it began. You quickly nodded, feeling your cheeks starting to burn. 

Careful, as if trying not to hurt you further, he set you down.

As soon as you were standing, the pain was back again, and you couldn’t help but grimace. 

“Shit, sorry”, he said, holding out his hands in case you needed help. 

“No, it’s okay”, you replied, taking a few steps, hoping you could walk the pain off a bit. However, after a few seconds, you had to realise that this was probably not going to work. 

Ransom stood there, his expression unreadable, but never taking his eyes off you. After a moment of silence, he asked: “Do you need a doctor?”

“No!”, you replied far too quickly. The thought of the medicals made you force yourself to stand up a little straighter. You attempted to give him a reassuring smile while hiding the true extent of pain in your eyes. “I’m totally fine!”

“Yeah. Sure, seems like it.”

“All I need is a heating blanket and maybe a bandage for this thing”, you raised your insured end, his shirt still tightly wrapped around the wound. And maybe an entire pack of painkillers, you added silently in your mind.  

Ransoms brows furrowed. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off you and deep down you had the feeling that he could tell that you were lying.

“You should go home, (Y/N).” 

Under normal circumstances, you would have refused, but today had not been normal. 

“What about the remaining mess?”

“I have three other bedrooms. I’ll find a place to sleep.”

“Are you sure?”, you asked again, just in case.

“Go. Home!”, he urged, coming closer until he towered over you. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 1/4 - A storm blows into town

(Frankie “catfish” Morales x f!reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: a drive down to a friends wedding gets complicated when you fail to head a warning.

Authors notes: Hello! Another fic cause it keeps snowing here and I’m SICK OF IT but wouldn’t mind it if I was stuck with Frankie💕. Anyways hope you enjoy as always comments are welcome but be nice!

TW: mentions of dead sibling (war related), swearing, mentions of a toxic relationship (based off of personal experience)

Tagged list: @agingerindenial

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~There was nothing worse than a February wedding, well at least one that took place in the frigid northern temperatures you were currently residing in. So you were eternally grateful that your best friend Stella had chosen to have hers down in sunny south Carolina where she had just accepted her first permanent hospital position. She was marrying her first love, a fact you’d usually cringe at but, they were extremely cute together. Stella had met Genevieve through her brothers Will and Benny, well more specifically Will, who had drunkenly run his head through a window one night. This incident resulted in two things, first a nickname that would stick with Will for the rest of his life and a late night call to Stella asking her to come down to the hospital to pick him up. The boys had put Stella down as their emergency contact in an effort to keep their antics hidden from their parents who they knew would only worry. The nurse patching up her idiot brother was none other than Genevieve who was working through her university's clinical course, and the rest? Well, the rest was history

You’d met Genevieve, as well as Will and Benny, sporadically throughout the 8 years you had roomed with Stella, first during your undergraduate degree at Boston University and then again at Stanford while attending medical school. You’d choses Stella as a roommate without much thought, but after just a few weeks together you were inseparable up until the day that you were assigned to your residency. You were slightly jealous when you found out that she would be spending the next four years in the warm embrace of Carolina (and Gen) while you would be living alone throughout the freezing Chicago winters. The pagne of jealousy didn’t last long though, Chicago med was your first choice after all. So here you were, in the last year of residency and in the middle of a brutal -20 degree winter, preparing to drive the 13 hours down to watch Stella get married. You’d considered flying but you knew how fickle airplanes could be in the winter and the last thing you wanted was a delayed flight because a door had frozen shut. Your friends had tried to convince you that driving down alone was far too dangerous a venture and none were more concerned than Santiago Garcia.

You’d known Santiago your whole life. Him being your brother's best friend resulted in him spending a lot of, some may argue too much, time at your house throughout both your childhoods. Your brother, Parker, was 8 years your senior, an age gap that often resulted in an argument over which one of you was the accident. An argument which usually ended with an agreement that in all likelihood you both were. Every summer from before you were born to the time they left for the military the two boys were a constant presence in your life. Hell, even after he left you’d watched him grow as he passed through your household over Thanksgiving and Christmas breaks. One thing was for sure, if Parker was there Satiago Garcia wasn't far behind. He was also there the day you received the news that your brother had gone MIA and he was by your side at the funeral, as you watched the commanding officer hand your mother the flag your brother had died for. After the funeral, life continued to move on around you as did everyone else. You always found it funny how quickly you were supposed to recover from loss, apparently a week was long enough to get over it. At least according to the university and your employers who had started calling with empty condolences that quickly led to the real reason they were calling. Always wanting to know when you’d be coming back. After your brother's passing, Santiago took over his role of big brother to you. He read over your med school applications, scared off potential boyfriends and got all the embarrassing video footage of you at your graduations. He was a permanent fixture in your life, one you hoped you’d never lose. Even now as he continued to blow up your phone in an attempt to sway you from driving up alone, you were thankful for him. Over the past 5 days he sent you lengthy lectures in the form of voice messages and a slew of articles detailing the statistics of winter related accidents. His name pops up on your screen as does a picture you’d taken one night after he'd passed out drunk and you’d stuffed cheetos up his nostrils, an act he has yet to forgive you for. You contemplate ignoring the call, but knowing you were about to go radio silent for the next 8 hours you decide to pick it up.

"Hey Santi what’s up?" you ask, as you half heartedly spread cream cheese onto a poorly toasted bagel.

"Have I ever told you how much I value your friendship?” Even over the phone you could hear the layers of charm he was currently plastering on.

"What do you want?" you say, tossing the knife into the sink.

"Hey! Who says..." he starts, but you don't let him finish.

"Santi I've known you long enough to know your ‘please I need something’ tone by heart" you laugh.

"Okay well I still value you, but ya I absolutely need a favour" Santiago admits.

"Shoot." you say taking a bite of the bagel.

"I need you to pick up a friend of mine, his flight got cancelled. He's in Chicago at the moment, can you drive him down to the wedding?"

"Ughhh are you kidding me Santi? I’m just about to leave" you say through a half chewed mouthful.

"Please! He’s a great guy, Gen wants him at the wedding, he was in basic with us, so a frequent visitor to the hospital. He's usually pretty quiet so you won’t have to spend that much time making small talk, which I know you hate." He pleaded. For anyone else a last minute change like this would have gotten a laugh, and nothing more, but this was Garcia, and you knew he’d do anything for you, so you’d do this for him.

“Fine” you begrudgingly agree “text me his number, I'm heading out in 40 minutes so he'll have to wait at the airport for a bit" you say, finishing your breakfast.

"You’re a godsend! Seriously, what would I do without you?" He chuckles.

"Nothing good i'm sure, besides I figure I probably owe you like, 1000 favours after you

know....'' the phone goes quiet. Five years later and it still stung like it was yesterday, for you both. He was your family, but he was Santiago’s best friend, you knew the loss was equally as devastating for him. You also knew he'd been having a particularly hard time recently, after what he termed a mission gone wrong a few years back. Every time you'd ask about it he’d shut you down harshly refusing to share any details with you.

"You don’t owe me anything. We're family. Thank you for driving him. I owe you a drink at the wedding!" He responds, back to his chipper self. If it wasn’t for the silence he may just have convinced you that he really was doing fine. You toss the phone on the counter and rub your temples mentally rearranging your entire itinerary for the day. You'd already rifled through the gym bag that was constraining way more clothes than you’d need for the week. Everything you needed was there from bathing suits to your wedding outfit to the special lingerie you’d packed in case you ran into an old flame. If by in case you meant, for when you ran into him. You don’t know how but he’d gotten invited to the wedding reception. Stella hated the guy, so it must have been through Genevieve who likely would have felt bad excluding him, even if he was only a friend of a friend.

You’d met Jonathan in your undergrad and you had been together throughout various points in your life, though never in any official sense. He’d made that evidently clear to you at any opportunity he got. He kept you on a short leash, a retainer if you will. Only coming to you between relationships with women that he deemed worthy enough to be his girlfriends. You knew it was toxic, and your friends constant reminders of how unhealthy it was didn’t fall on deaf ears. The way he would use you and lose you always ended with you being an unstable and emotional wreck, only solidifying his claims of you being crazy. You hated it, the way he made you feel so small, but he held this strange power over you. A power not even you could explain. His redeeming qualities could only be found in the bedroom, he was the best you’d ever had, so you forgave his shitty personality. Always gravitating back towards him, restarting the cycle. You knew what it meant to do the same activity over and over expecting different results, but this was different. At least that's what you told yourself, as you’d traced your hands over the lingeries lace that morning, knowing it was bought for a man who would never appreciate it.

Brushing all thought of him aside for the time being you grab the duffle off the floor and sling it over your shoulder. Walking out into the cold February air you watch as your breath transforms into a small cloud in front. Your chest hurts and nose hairs freeze as you inhale, tossing your bag into the back seat before leaning into the car and starting it up. The engine sputters for a moment before breaking out into a loud rumble, maybe it was a good thing someone else would be in the car with you after all. You jog back inside to your townhouse and grab the cooler where you’d stored the snacks and sandwiches you’d prepared for the road, now realizing it likely wouldn’t be enough to feed two people. Tossing on your winter jacket you lock the door behind you and slide your sunglasses down over your eyes shielding them from the afternoon sun as you make your way into your car.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You pull up to the departure gate still cursing at the idiot who had almost smashed into you while they were going the wrong way down a one way street. You hated driving in the city and you couldn’t wait to get out on the open road, even if it was going to be with a total stranger. You find yourself second guessing your decision to drive down state with someone you’d never met. In all reality, even if Santi was vouching for him, he could be a serial killer, plenty of people had nice things to say about Ted Bundy before he got caught.

You shake off the nervous feeling taking over your body, deciding to put your faith in your friends judgment, at least for now. Worse comes to worse you had a pocket knife stowed within reach. As long as he didn’t complain about any playlists or podcasts and understood your need for complete silence from time to time, you’d get on just fine. Besides it was only a 13 hour drive, and you could put up with anything for 13 hours.

You open up your phone and pull up the conversation you and Santiago had been having, scrolling up until you see the contact he’d sent you which read “ Catfish”. You click on it hoping to get the guys real name as a result but no luck, you should have asked Garcia for more information about this “Catfish” guy. You click on the number opting to call, not wanting to waste time wondering if he’d gotten the text you’d sent. The phone rings a few times before you hear someone pick up.

"Catfish?" you say, less confident in yourself than you had been dialing.

"In the flesh, who's this?" the deep voice responds.

"Your ride, Santiago’s friend" you offer, hoping that this wasn't some elaborate prank.

"Oh shit ya, Pope told me you’d be later than you said. I'm still downstairs" he says.

"Of course he did the little shit" you mutter, causing Catfish to laugh "Im outside now, departures second floor"

“I'll be out in a second" he says, hanging up the phone before you can say anything else.

You plug your phone back into the aux setting it back to the playlist you’d made last night during another bout of insomnia. You're checking your email to see if anything came up from the hospital when a tap at the window causes you to jump. As you look over you see the man who must be “Catfish” gently tapping on the glass. You unlock the door, popping the trunk as you slide out the driver's seat.

“You can put your bags back here. Fuck!" you exclaim when you trunk won’t open, likely having frozen shut again.

"Here" he says dropping his bag on the salted pavement and heaving up on the trunk freeing it from its icy constraints with a relative ease causing him to smile down at you.

"I loosened it" you say defensively, as he tosses his bag in the back still grinning when he

slams the trunk shut.

"Fransico Morales, though most people just call me Frankie" he says as you sit back down in the driver seat rubbing your hands together to warm them and applying some chapstick.

"Y/N, nice to meet you Frankie, seat warmers are here, use as your leisure. There are snacks in the back, but no touching the phone.” you rattle off.

“Aye aye captain” he responds, saluting you.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Santiago was right, Frankie was quiet. He offered you little in conversation or any noise at all really. You’d only heard him laugh maybe twice, once while listening to a podcast episode and then again when Britney Spears made her appearance on your soundtrack. "What? She’s America's sweetheart" you say trying to sound offended, but smiling when you notice his lopsided grin. You’d attempted to open up a dialogue with him a few times, but his one worded responses told you all you needed to know, so you stopped forcing it. It wasn’t a hostile environment, it was more of a comfortable silence one that you usually only found in people you had known for years. The silence gave you an opportunity to study the man’s features, glancing away from the road every now and then to slowly piece together his profile. You had pegged him as attractive the second his face had appeared in your passenger window, but it wasn't until now that the details that made him so could be seen; relatively tall, tanned skin, soft curls, deep brown eyes. Glancing over again you notice a concerned look spread across his face.

"What?" you ask, nervous that you’d creeped him out with your excessive, and not so subtle staring.

"Storms coming our way" he says, nodding up at the darkening sky.

"We’re not supposed to get snow for another week, I checked” you reassure.

"Things change" he says

" Sky’s clear, so we don’t stop for another 3 hours" you say, definitively.

" Your funeral, well mine as well I guess" he chuckles, earning him an icy glare from you.

“It's nothing, trust me” you affirm, confident in your ability to read a weather app.

" No one likes a know-it-all" he mutters still grinning.

"Could you help me with something" you ask smiling sweetly

"Sure" he responds, eager to help.

"Pull up the map and show me when I asked for your opinion"

"Eyes on the road” he says, causing your grip to tighten around the wheel.

Well crow wasn’t your favourite food to eat, but here you were eating it. Turns out Frankie was right. A storm was heading your way and it hit hard and fast. You’d managed to make it to a hotel off the freeway just as it came into full effect. What had started as a very pleasant road trip had quickly soured when you refused to apologize for not heading his warning. This paired with the 6 hours you had already driven had left you both irritable so much so that Frankie was now refusing to be any use in respect to figuring out what your next move was going to be.

"Hi" you say to the equally tired looking receptionist. Apparently, every other person travelling through Illinois had also missed the memo about the storm and were now all stuck at the same hotel.

"Hi, so sorry for the wait" she says, forcing a smile in a way that you recognized from your retail days.

"No need to apologize! What are the odds you have any rooms available?" you ask rubbing your eyes in an attempt to keep them open.

"Let me check, we have one... suite left on the... fourth floor” she says after a few moments of typing away into the computer.

"Perfect we’ll take it." you say, tapping your credit card to the machine. You walk back over to Frankie who was sitting with the bags and hand him a room key. He exhales deeply, not looking up from his phone as he takes it from you.

"There was only one room left so we’ll have to share" you say.

"Fine," he says, standing up, grabbing his bag and heading over to the elevator not bothering to wait for you. You watch as the elevator doors open and close behind him. Sure maybe it was your fault that you were stuck in this situation, but that was pretty rude. You push your way into the room after struggling with the key for a moment. Frankie must have been eager to get to sleep, or at least eager to not converse with you as he’d wasted no time in unpacking his bag and getting ready for bed. Your eyes move from the clothes on the floor, to the suit hung up in the closet, to the closed bathroom door. You hear the toilet flush and watch the door open as you drop your bag down onto the living room floor, grabbing the toiletries out of your bag's side pocket. You were far too tired to wrestle down to your pyjamas so you opted to stay in the leggings and sports bra you’d been wearing all day. Yes it was gross, but you couldn't be bothered to change at this point. Your eyes follow Frankie as he exits the bathroom in a green cotton t-shirt and a pair of plaid boxer shorts. You continue to watch as he plugs his phone in and shifts beneath the covers. Guess you were on the floor then. The couch was far too small, and you really weren't trying to break your neck sleeping on its arm rest.

"Pass me a pillow" you huff, as you grab a glass from the nightstand, turning back around to fill it up with water from the sink.

Why?" he asks, watching you take a sip from the overfilled cup.

"So I can sleep on the floor." you state, as if it was obvious.

“No, I’ll do that, you can have the bed" he says shifting up and pushing the blankets off himself. He hadn’t realized you were so averse to sharing a bed with him, but you had just met so he guessed it was fair enough.

"I’m not the one with the bad back old man" you state, the words sounding a lot harsher than you’d intended, but you were younger and thus more likely to recover.

"Fair point, but you’re not sleeping on the floor. Santi wouldn’t allow it. We can put up a pillow barrier between us if that would make you feel more comfortable" he offers, any hostility you had felt from him earlier now turned to tenderness. In all honesty, you hadn’t realized that sharing the bed was an option.

"I need two to sleep with so no point in making a barrier" you say, begrudgingly placing the glass back down on the nightstand "Shift" you say, fanning your hand.

"No" he says looking you dead in the eye "I got here first" he’s grinning slightly, further indicating he’d gotten over his anger from earlier. You could have just walked around to the other side, but for some unknown reason you don’t. Instead, you swing your leg over him pushing yourself up onto the bed, straddling him for the briefest moment before rolling over to the other side.

"Couldn’t have just walked around?" he chuckles

"Couldn’t have just shifted over?" you parrot back, moving onto your back, closing your eyes and dozing off.

[sorryimanon]

A Bit Stir Crazy: Pt 2

(Note: I tried to challenge myself on writing smut. It is not my strongest field, but I had fun writing this. Enjoy.)

Warning: 18+

-

After the embarrassing confrontation the morning of day 16, you found yourself even more on edge. Anything relating to eating, sleeping, and hygiene wasn’t on your mental critia for the rest of the day. Your mind was set on one thing only. Katsuki.

Childish as it is, you didn’t mind lying down in bed daydreaming perfect scenarios of you and Katsuki. Sometimes you’d catch yourself clutching to the nearest pillow , pretending it’s him you’re cuddling . Pathetic. Thank god he didn’t have a telepathy quirk, or else you’d be packing your shit by now. You were in the middle of a good daydream when all of a sudden you hear the painful sound of hardwood being dragged across the floor. It was coming from Bakugous room. Blocking out the sound was impossible, it kept going on for another good 5 minutes. What the hell is the doing in there?

The temptation to yell at him to keep it down was immeasurable, but you were still skittish to show the mere sight of yourself to Katsuki again. For the next hour, you stared blankly at the chipped ceiling, listening to your roommate rearranging the entirety of his small ass room. How could you blame him though? This quarantine has made nearly go ludicrous due to boredem. Some were sadly succumb to becoming stir crazy, which you weren’t denying could possibly be you by now. You also noticed your hormones were more off the rails. Every hour you had the weird inkling to touch yourself. or just once in awhile brush up against the pillow you were holding. You couldn’t help it. No physical or social contact from the outside world for the past 16 days.

Evening struck and you haven’t eaten anything all day. The cereal from this morning made a surprise visit not long ago, causing your appetite to dissipate completely. Although, you did want to get your hands on the left over pizza Katsuki ordered last night. You were about to get up when you heard two loud knocks coming from your door.

“Hey dumbass, don’t think I didn’t notice you not eating all day. I made you some soup since you’re lazy to make something right now.” He sounded agitated, but you knew better that he meant well. “I’ll leave it by the door since I know...you...tch. Just fucking eat. If you don’t I’ll make you okay?”

And with that he left, making it clear for you to hear the door to his room close. You waddle over to the door and open it quickly, scooping up the piping hot bowl of soup. You hate to admit it, Katsuki makes a pretty damn good soup. A little spicy though.

-

Later that night, you laid on your back, toying with the hem of your panties. The muscles in your arms restricting you from going any further. A sick punishment really. You needed some relief, something to get this feral feeling out of your system. Touching yourself wasn’t a foreign feeling. You had a boyfriend to handle the task for you. Note, had a boyfriend. He randomly stopped texting you one day and after that you assumed he didn’t find you attractive anymore. Which sucks because he was great in bed.

Now it’s been almost a year without any form of sexual pleasure from another person. The thought alone made you groan out loud. I am such a fucking loser.

Your fingers itched closer as the minutes ticked by. Just do it, Katsuki should be asleep by now. With a quick glance at your clock, the red numbers 10:30 stared right back. You sighed in relief remembering that Katsuki has been keen on knocking out by 9:00. The sudden burst of confidence caused you to finally plunge your hand into your panties. The feeling of your index finger brushing up against your clit made your whole body shiver. Oh, it definitely has been a year. Making sure there was no evidence of anyone being awake in the next room, you rubbed the very sensitive bud with a slow and teasing motion. You wanted this session to last a while, so you stopped rubbing and dipped your middle finger into the hole. A soft moan escaped your mouth, with which you quickly slapped your mouth with your hand, trying to cover up any lewd noises you might emit.

10 minutes have past and you haven’t climaxed yet. You were starting to get tired of fingering yourself, noticing the warm sensation in your lower stomach has went away. Then, an involuntary image of Katsuki flashed behind your closed eyes. He was there, above you while looking absolutely feral. His eyes were no longer red, but somehow dilated to the point where they were just plain black. You felt the warmness coming back again as you glance down from his eyes to the placement of his hands. The mere sight made you gasp. Katsuki, with his knees proping himself, had his fingers inside of you. No longer were you covering your mouth, each and every whimper or moan left your throat. Katsuki gave you his infamous smirk and began to thrust his fingers faster within you. You couldn’t help but to clench around his fingers, wanting to get as close as possible.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” Katsuki spoke in a sultry tone.

Surprised by him speaking out, your eyes widened to the uncommon nickname.

“You look so fucking cute like this. Taking my fingers like a good girl...so fucking well baby ah fuck!” He continued with his lewd comments. He kept the usual pace while saying sweet nothings in the air.

“Katsuki...nagh...please make me come.” You pleaded softly.

With that, he curled his fingers inside you, causing a long drawn out moan from you. You felt it, then you finally released once he rubbed the tiny bud that desperately needed attention.

“Fuck, Katsuki...” you said breathlessly, eyes drawn to a close in complete euphoria.

Wanting to look back at the man who delivered you to climax, you opened your eyes to see nothing but darkness. Everything was a lucid dream. Katsuki wasn’t actually here to your beckoning call.

Embarrassed, you slipped on a fresh pair of panties and rolled onto bed, knocking out right away due to your recent endeavor.

Behind the wall next door, a lone Katsuki laid awake with his hand wrapped around his qivering member, breathing harshly after climaxing as well with you. He slapped his forehead.

“Fuck.”

-

The following morning, you woke up feeling much better. The constant pang in your lower region was gone, leaving you with an obvious glow. Katsuki noticed too when you strutted into the kitchen, wearing nothing but your big tshirt. His mind went ravage there, thinking about whether or not if you were wearing panties underneath. Considering what he heard last night made him think otherwise.

“Sleep well dumbass?” Katsuki asked as you made yourself a cup of coffee. You didn’t detect how smug he sounded. He was leaning against the island, wearing his usual attire of a tank top and sweat pants.

Thinking nothing of it, you answered his innocent inquiry. “Yeah actually. I haven’t slept that well in ages.” You took a sip of your coffee and leaned against the counter, your body mimicking Katsukis position.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh really? Some type of remedy I don’t know of that makes you sleep well?” Again, you didn’t notice how tauting his tone was.

“O-Oh um, nothing too complex really. Just a simple uh, breathing excerise I did.” You lied through your teeth.

“Ah that makes sense. No wonder I heard you breathing so hard last night” Katsuki snapped his fingers.

You regretfully spit out your coffee, coating the tiled floor with the sugary brown liquid. Katsuki titled his head innocently at you.

“Something I said?”

“N-No I just forgot I left our clothes in the washer last night. I should probably head downstairs now before some creep steals our stuff!” You spewd a last minute excuse and ran out the door before hearing anything from Katsuki.

“Was definitely something I said.”

-

The laundry mat downstairs was empty. The mornings were usually packed, having either you or bakugou to stand outside the door for an open machine. This time you wish there was people occupying the space.

You had propped yourself on the washing machine, feet dangling a few feet from the floor. He knows what you did last night. He absolutely knows. How stupid of you to not realize his bed was agasint the shared wall. It was agonizingly painful to imagine how Katsuki felt during that haunting hour. He probably threw up to the thought of you touching yourself, specifically to him getting you off. Tears started to threateningly leave your eyes. No matter how many times you tried not to cry during this whole ordeal, a single tear slid down your face. Next thing you knew a whole stream was pouring out both of your eyes. If a person were to come in at this exact moment, they’d think you were a lunatic.

That’s when you heard loud footsteps coming from the entrance of the laundry matt. Deep down you knew who it might be, but you couldn’t muster up the courage to look up. You kept your head down, eyes focusing on your bare feet swaying back and forth. A pair of feet came into view, your knees slightly touching their upper thigh. You lowered your head even more, not wanting to face Katsuki and his judgmental glare.

“Y/N? Look at me,” he demanded.

You shook your head, still keeping it down.

“I said,” he places his finger beneath your chin, raising it to where you were eye level with him. “Look at me.”

You gulped, noticing how angry he looks right now. Is he angry at you touching yourself to him? Or is he mad about something else?

“Listen, I know what you did last night-“

That’s it. You cringed hard at his confession. Nothing mattered right now anymore. Katsuki was just white noise at this point. Dying sounded more appealing than listening to your roomate spiel about how they caught you masturbating. Oh the horror.

“That’s why I think we should please each other for the time while being quarantined together”, he finished.

Wait what.

The look he gave you was unlike any other look you’ve received from him. He was pleading, almost begging, with his eyes. You barely noticed his grasp on your thigh. The grasp grew tighter each second you left him unanswered.

“We both need this. I haven’t had any relief from another person in months...” he admitted while simultaneously rubbing your thigh.

You wanted this more than anything, but you didn’t openly admit that to him. Especially not in an open space like a laundry matt, where someone could walk in at any moment.

“Katsuki...I don’t think we should-“ he caught you by surprise with the sudden impact of his lips. The contact made you both moan into each other’s mouths. The hand that was grasping your thigh earlier soon trailed higher to your inner thigh. His cold hand against your already flushed body was enough to make you climax. When he got courageous enough to place his hand on your waist, you scooted closer to his body, giving him an invitation to step inbetween your legs. He obliged and closed the space between the both of you, using his other hand to cup your cheek. Katsuki grew ansty and bit your lower lip, wanting to gain more access in your mouth. You surrender and let him kiss you tongue first. You closed your eyes in ecstasy, letting him explore your mouth with his expert tongue. Katsuki grabbed your hands and placed them on his head, implying for you to grab a handful of his hair. Once you ran your hands through his blonde locks, his whole entire body tensed up. He quickly detatched his lips from your mouth, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Keep...Keep doing that please.” He whined. You smiled at his approval and continued to rake through his hair.

His whimpers were angelic as you kept tugging on his hair while he kissed you open mouthed.

You both were at it for awhile, making out and touching places that needed attention from the other. When the two of you let go for some air, a string of saliva strewn from both of your mouths. Flustered at the sight, Katsuki licked your bottom lip and gave it a quick peck before lifting your body from the washer. You squeaked loudly due to the aruptness and wrapped your legs around his waist.

The trip back to the apartment wasn’t long. Katsuki was careful not to drop you as he treaded up the stair case. Your apartment door came into view and without hesitation Katsuki kicked it open, breaking the hinges along with it.

“Katsuki! How are we going to pay for that!” You scolded him, playfully hitting his chest.

He chuckled at that and closed what was left of the door with his foot.

“I’m not worried about that right now. Too busy on taking care of you,” he mumbled the last part before attaching his lips to yours again.

Clumsily, the pair of you made it to his bedroom without breaking anything else in the process. Katsuki practically threw you on his bed, your back landing on one of his pillows. He climbed on top of you and observed your whole entire body. Internally you were shaking uncontrollably, but externally you gave the facade that you were completely calm. Katsuki took this as a sign to move his hand under your shirt, still staring at you intently. You felt his fingers inches away from your perched nipple. His hand reached your breast, giving it a good squeeze before pinching it with his fingers. You voluntarily arched your back, wanting him to explore more of your body.

“You like that?” He questioned, still pinching your sensitive nipple.

Answering him by moaning, he used his other hand to trail a line leading up to your inner thigh. He moved up and down slowly in a teasing pace, careful not to touch your heat yet. He replaced his digits with his thumb to rub your nipple in place. His smirk grew wider seeing you squirm beneath his touch. Deep down he always wanted to see you like this. Flustered to the core and whimpering to his subtle touch. He couldn’t wait to see you screaming out in pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to hear you call out his name in pure ecstasy.

As much as you wanted Katsuki to worship your body, the desire for him to fill you was more important.

“Kasu-...Katsuki, please.” You urged on, bucking your hips to meet his.

“Please what dumbass? Hm? Use your words,” he traced the outline of your lips carefully, opening your mouth wider.

“I need you inside me. I want to feel you...” you pathetically begged out him to.

Katsuki saw the desperation in your body language and voice. Swiftly, he pulled your panties down to your ankles, letting you move them aside to the floor. The wetness from your heat was slowly dripping down your thighs. Prepped and ready for whatever Katsuki has in store for you. Your cunt throbbed painfully from the anticipation of his next move. 

“You want me now baby?” He seductively said, earning an earnest groan from you as a reply. He kept himself busy by pumping his member through his sweats. His eyes never left you as he thrusted aggressively, smiling during the process when you kept glancing at his actions below. “I can’t wait...to know how you feel...ngh...I bet you feel incredible wrapped around my cock”. A blush creeped its way to your cheeks. His crude comments are getting dirtier, and you low-key didn’t want him to stop speaking his mind. 

Never in a million years would you have ever thought of doing something this intimate with Katsuki. If you were to tell yourself, a little first UA student, that you and Katsuki Bakugou had sex, you’d never believe it. Even at this moment, you still couldn't comprehend this was happening. You broke out of your thoughts when you felt the tip of something hovering at your entrance. During your daze, Katsuki managed to get his fully erect member from the tight hold of his boxers and lined it perfectly at your aching hole. He nudges your hole a few times before rubbing against your clit. A fulfilling moan left your throat as he kept going with the tedious motion. You elavated your hips a little in hopes for his tip to enter. Katsuki growled at your impatient state and grounded your hips with hands. You whimpered at the harshness of his grip.

“Keep doing that idiot and I just might make you fuck yourself instead,” he lowered his head to your neck and started sucking on the sensitive area. “You’re lucky I'm going to go easy on you dumbass or else you’ll be begging for me to stop. So, just let me know and I’ll stop”.

Even when he’s about to go feral in your insides, he was still considerate of your feelings, which made your heart beat go bezerk. Thankfully he stopped kissing your neck and dropped his full attention to his cock. You mentally sighed to yourself once you felt his tip circle around your lips. The swelling sensation down below was becoming unbearable to the constant teasing. You couldn’t hold it in any longer, so you wrapped your hands around his torso and purposely shoved him forward. Both of you let out a choked moan once his cock finally entered you. Your walls instinctively clamped tightly around him, feeling the warm flesh inside of you. The action you did elicited a loud whine from Katskui, who was currently shoving his face into the crevice of your neck, shaking from entering your tight walls so abruptly. 

“Do I...Do I feel good Katsuki?” you asked, shifting uncomfortably to his stiffness. 

He lifted his head from his previous position and grinned from ear to ear. “You feel fucking amazing baby.” He wasted no time to move his hips to sheathe his cock deeper inside you. It didn’t hurt due to you being so aroused and wet. He then started to continuously thrust at a slow pace, making sure you were adjusting to his size. Mouth wide open, you threw your head onto his pillows while clutching the bedsheets. 

“Ugh, Katsuki. Please go faster,” you winced at how needy you sounded, but you wanted the relief right away. 

Katsuki listened to your command and thrashed himself more into your hole. Sounds of skin slapping on skin and sporadic moans filled the small room. You felt his cock twitch inside you, indicating that he was indeed close. He continued thrusting at a fast pace, occasionally reaching down to rub your clit. Without a doubt, he was hitting your g-spot repeatedly, never once missing it. To feel even more closer to you, Katsuki pushed your legs further towards you, allowing him a better angle to thrust deeper. 

“Fuck Y/N...I bet he never fucked you like this. He probably never had you making those cute faces you’re pulling right now, ngh...” he panted between thrusts. “I hated the thought of you being fucked by someone other than me. All the guys you’ve dated are nothing compared to me. I want you all to myself.”

The knot inside your cunt started pulsing by him mentioning his hatred toward your past partners. You screamed when he clamped his sharp teeth down onto your shoulder. For a spilt second, you thought you felt the trickle of your own blood. Next thing you knew, Katsuki’s thrusts became sloppier, indicating he’s on the verge of climaxing. 

“God yes Katsuki, please come. Come with me baby!” you cry out.

You being so oblivious, you don’t know how much your voice turns him on. So when you egged him on to come with him, that’s exactly what he did. With one last thrust, both you and Katsuki attach your lips together, moaning out your orgasms into each others mouths. He successfully fills your heat with his seed and freezes in place. He detaches his lips from yours and stares at your dripping core. He had to restrict himself to not shove his cock into you again. After composing himself, Katsuki released himself from you and rolled over onto his side, propping his elbow to get a good view of you. You still recovering from your orgasm. You were gasping for more air, trying to compose yourself. 

“Ya know...maybe you could use your energy restoration quirk on me for a round two?” he humorously suggested.

You shifted yourself into a comfortable position on his lap and jabbed a finger under his chin. “Only if this round involves me riding you.” 

Katsuki then pushed you roughly on your back again. His eyes were more dilated this time than during your previous intimate moment together. He leaned down and kissed you gently on the lips.

“I like that idea better don’t cha think, idiot.”

-

Everything after that event changed the course for both you and Katsuki. The mood and tension from before disappeared. Now the two of you couldn't keep your hands off each other. You caught yourself sleeping more in Katsuki’s bed than your own. What was the point of being separated if you two were practically having sex every day? Every hour, minute, and second. It didn’t bother you though. You’d rather jump his bones than read another boring book again. 

On day 30 of quarantine, you woke up naked in Katsuki’s arms. You stretched your arms and legs, popping them in the process. Katsuki grunted and pulled you closer to his body. You smiled into the crook of his neck and returned the favor by kissing him on the nose. He scrunched his face, obviously not favoring the random spot you pecked him at. 

The night before you two were going at it till 3 am. Not taking breaks for anything whatsoever. It was evident from the display of your clothes strewn everywhere. 

You relaxed more into his arms, but your heart stopped once you heard the front door opening. Katsuki was still passed out, oblivious to the disturbance inside your apartment. Your ears picked up footsteps padding their way towards Katsuki’s door. The door knob twisted ominously. Whoever was behind the door was surely taking their sweet time. Before you knew it, the door swung open revealing the last person you wanted see. There stood Kirishima, mouth agape seeing you in the same bed as Katsuki. He blinked a couple of times before raising a weak finger in your direction. 

“I guess I wasn’t the only one who got laid during this pandemic!” Kirishima bursted into laughter.

Katsuki unwrapped his arms around you and grabbed the nearest pillow, using his quirk to explode it right at Kiri’s face. The impact ricchoeted him out the threshold of the door, a loud crash coming along with him. 

“EVER HEARD OF KNOCKING FIRST SHITTY HAIR!” he yelled, small sparks ejecting from his hands.

You contently sigh. Maybe this whole quarantine thing wasn’t so bad after all. 

[nathanknowsitall]

Stupid Crush

Summary: You shouldn’t be going to Harry’s party when you’re trying to get over your stupid crush on him, but you do.

Notes: I haven’t had a crush on someone in a while, so this is me reminiscing about what it’s like. Hope you enjoy! Sorry this is late! <3

You’re so goddamn stupid, you thought as you got dressed. Your friend Cassandra had insisted that you went to Harry’s party, even when you had reminded her of the fact that you were trying to get over your stupid crush on him.

“Why get over it? You know he likes you, right?”, she asked you yesterday as you both sat in the corner booth of a coffee shop.

She had been the one who introduced you two and she knew you’d hit it off. She just didn’t expect the hesitancy on both ends to make a move.

“No he doesn’t...”, you had said, deflated, thinking about how Harry never really flirted with you or ever made a move. “He’s a big rockstar Cassandra...I’m lucky to even be acquainted with him...”, you said, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Cassandra rolled her eyes comically, “Now you and I both know that’s a lie. You obviously clicked! One of you just needs to make the first move! C’mon, it’s just a party...come on.”

You rolled your eyes but you knew Cassandra was a master of convincing you to do whatever she wanted, so you just told her yes.

Which is why you were currently getting all dressed up to go to a party, hosted by someone that probably barely even remembered you. Or-more accurately-probably didn’t care enough to remember you.

As you walked out the door and got into the Uber you ordered, you couldn’t help but think that this was an incredibly bad idea.

-

“Y/N!”, Cassandra had screamed at you as you entered. She immediately ran to hug you and you could smell the alcohol on her.

“Hi Cassandra...”, you said hesitantly as you took in her severely drunken state. Her hair was messed up, make up smeared, and her eyes unfocused.

Cassandra leaned in, right next to your ear and whispered, “I have a secret for you...”.

You knew that it probably was something like she had made out with someone or had taken a body shot off of someone or something equally as obvious.

“What is it Cassandra?”, you asked as you held her up, escorting her to an empty loveseat.

“Harry likes you!”, she said excitedly. You hated the way that your stomach still flipped even though you knew it wasn’t true.

“Ha ha ha...very funny Cassandra. Now let’s get you home”, you said as you opened up the Uber app.

“Y/N! The party is still going on! Let’s stay a bit!”, Cassandra had said. You looked at Cassandra, taking in her face. She looked like she was going to be sick. You couldn’t take her a car like this.

“I’m going to get you a water really quick, okay?”, you said as you stood up to go into Harry’s kitchen.

You couldn’t even really blame Cassandra for getting drunk. After all, Harry had all the good booze. You just wished that she had at least moderated herself so you could’ve just picked her up and left as soon as possible.

As you walked towards the kitchen through the crowd, you heard someone singing over a microphone in the living room. You ignored it until the singing stopped.

“Hiiiii Y/N!”, the voice said. You cringed as you turned towards Harry, who had the microphone and seemed very drunk. You gave him a little wave, before turning away, and trying to walk to the kitchen again.

“You’re sooooo pretty! I wanna kisssss you! Pleaseeeeee!”, he sang to you, causing people in the living room to turn their attention towards you, now interested.

You froze and turned back towards him very confused. He continued, obviously not seeing how awkward it was for you, in his drunken state.

“Prettttttyyyy girl! This is my pretty girl!”, Harry sang, joyfully as he walked towards you with the microphone.

You felt yourself become really embarrassed as he came to stand right up next to you, causing the other guests to laugh at Harry’s antics.

“Hi Harry...”, you said softly as you looked into his eyes. He was definitely drunk, but he also looked just as handsome as ever. 

“Hi Y/N...”, he responded softly into the mic, seeming to mimic you. You were embarrassed, knowing that everyone in the living room could hear you trying to talk to your crush.

“Can I have the microphone for a second?”, you asked him politely, trying to get him to stop broadcasting your entire conversation.

“You’re gonna sing? Please sing? For me?”, he begged. Some people heard what Harry said and started cheering a bit for you. You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that they just wanted to encourage Harry’s drunken antics.

“No...so I can turn it off...”, you said as you reached out for the microphone.

He pulled the microphone away from you easily, “But wait!”. You stopped, hand still in the air. “I wanna sing for you!”, he exclaimed excitedly.

He reached out with his free hand and took your frozen hand in his. You bit your lip. You knew that it was wrong to like this, especially when Harry didn’t know what he was doing, but you still didn’t resist him holding your hand.

“You can sing to me later, but I think you need water”, you said softly to Harry.

Harry looked into your eyes, seeming a little more sober, nodding, “Okay, lovie.” He dropped the microphone onto the carpet, you bent over to pick it up, and put it on a table before you escorted him into the kitchen.

You tried not to let yourself think about his pet name as you walked with him through the crowd, but that’s all you could really do. When you entered the kitchen, surprisingly no one was there.

You decided to set him right against a counter as you got him and Cassandra some cups of water.

“You’re sooo nice to me, Y/N”, Harry said. You could feel his gaze following you as you filled up the cups.

“It’s no problem, Harry”, you said flatly. You knew that none of this was the real Harry. Harry was nice, but this was drunk, flirty Harry. He’d probably do this to anybody. This wasn’t real, no matter what he said.

You turned back towards him, offering him the cup, “Here you go”. You stood back, just monitoring him cautiously, in case he spilled.

He looked at you for a long time before taking a sip, some of it dribbling down his chin. You got him a napkin and started rubbing at his face, while Harry was giving you a big gummy smile. You loved his smile, but looking back into his unfocused eyes reminded you that this smile wasn’t a happy one. He was just a drunk person, doing drunk things, and giving you a drunk smile.

“I loooovvveee you, Y/N”, he said when you finished cleaning off his face.

God, you wished this was real.

“Hey, Y/N”, another one of Harry’s friends said as they entered the kitchen, “I can take him off your hands”.

“Yeah...he’s all yours...”, you said as you exited the kitchen. 

You knew you did the right thing, but the whole situation stung as you walked back through the crowd to give Cassandra a cup of water.

-

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of knocking at your door.

As you rubbed your eyes, you remembered last night. Taking care of Harry, him saying that he loved you, getting Cassandra home, and finally falling asleep on the couch in your clothes from last night.

At this point, you didn’t care what you looked like as you answered the door.

Except for when you saw Harry standing on the other side.

You bit your lip nervously thinking about whether Harry remembers anything from last night. More importantly, whether he meant any of the things he said last night.

“I just wanted to come by and tell you that I’m-I’m so sorry about last night. I...I didn’t want to tell you that I liked you that way, it was so-”, Harry began. Your eyes widened in surprise.

“You like me?”, you asked, breathless.

“Didn’t I tell you that I did?”, Harry asked, confused.

“Yeah, you did...I just thought that you were drunk and didn’t mean it”, you said, looking at the ground, nervously.

“Well, umm...I meant it”, he said quietly. You looked at him. He wasn’t making eye contact, rubbing at the back of his neck, seeming to be way more interested in the ground. You hesitantly put your hand on his cheek, making him look into your eyes.

“Well...that’s good because I like you too”, you softly responded. Harry broke out into a huge grin. 

He immediately was every bit the confident Harry you knew as he leaned in, stopping right before your lips touched, “So can I kiss you?”.

“Yes, please!”, you responded eagerly before he leaned in all the way.

As soon you kissed Harry, your crush on him felt a lot less stupid.