#if i had time I’d watch the show but uni has been kicking my ass

[cieloculto]

ravi singh the man that you are…

[scandeniall]

cause u were my baby

pairing: atsumu x (implied black)f!reader (ur Aran’s sister but if u wanna imagine youre adopted go ahead no physical descriptors)

summary/warnings: honestly just based off my boo by usher. ur life around atsumu over the years (from kids to adults)/implied nsfw at the end when ur adults, bad words, thats it./timeskip spolier 

a/n: format might be weird because i was initially doing these as headcanons but kept going and it changed. also also started with a sakusa version based on this song so um tune in next whenever i finish it oop-

wc:4.4k 

It started when we were younger, you were mine 

You’re not exactly sure when you’d met Atsumu. It seemed like he was always around. From the first day Aran came home trailing two considerably shorter twins behind him you’d been intrigued. 

“Aran you never told us ya had a sister!” When they found out your name and exclaimed how cool it was there was no way you could’ve predicted your future. 

Eventually it became a tiny school girl crush, on one of them as kids (you couldn’t quite tell them apart for the longest). You’d be overly happy whenever Aran brought them around, and always asked to tag along with him, but only when he mentioned he’d be seeing the twins. 

You’d watched over the years as your brother only grew closer to them and as a result so did you, sorta. In middle school you’d come back from hanging with your own friends to hear the twins bickering while your brother just continued in with his homework. Being in the same year, you’d occasionally be dragged into helping them out, or sharing answers when it was too hard and “they’d learn it later, but need the answers now.”

At some point during middle school you’d grown an official crush on Atsumu, opting to take his side more often than not within his competition with Osamu. Despite that, nothing ever came of it as kids. 

The older you got, the more attractive they’d seem to get, but you never paid much attention. After all, once you reached the world of high school, your young crush practically disappeared. Instead you’d taken a liking to all the new people you were exposed to.  

As they got more and more passionate about volleyball and you parted class ways you never really saw them, except for the occasional times they’d come to your house. Even then, the conversations were short. Growing more confident, and friendly you’d still jokingly take Atsumu’s side to which he’d parade around like he’d won the lottery. “At least someone thinks I’m right.” 

Of course you’d heard about Atsumu’s lack of popularity among his teammates. You’d overheard Osamu telling him at lunch one day to be nicer, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the lack of care he showed for others thoughts on his personality. As long as he was doing his job as a setter all’s good. 

“Don’t think you’d say that if they decided to throw you in a ditch one day,” you’d tease hovering over their lunch table. “Maybe you should be a little nicer,”

“If they suck, then they suck.” 

For the rest of your first year your conversations took on similar natures. One of you’d overhear something then butt in for a few moments before returning to your regularly scheduled lives. 

You’d watch as the two of them grew into their volleyball skills, alongside your brother cheering from the sidelines as much as you could. Come your 2nd year Their notoriety and your connection to them caused a spike in your popularity. It was something that came to the irritation of your brother. 

“Another date?” Your brother eyed the way you searched for the perfect pair of shoes while you waved him off. 

You’d heard about the twins biggest fight. Osamu admitted that he’d be quitting volleyball after high school. Heard about the way Atsumu reacted, seen the way they stopped sitting together at lunch

“Shouldn’t ya be with yer friends,” the blonde twin mumbles, continuing to stab at the rice he’d brought for lunch. Or that Osamu packed, which is precisely why he couldn’t eat it. You slid into the empty seat in front of him, not even phased. 

“Atsumu you need to make up with your Osamu. You two are driving Aran mad. And more importantly you need each other.” Your hand stops his that were previously stabbing at the food, by knocking the chopsticks out. With a sigh, you move the bento he’d been messing over and replace it with your own lunch. “Since you’re on your whole anti Samu stance, figured I’d get you some non Samu food. I’ll be eating this by the way.” You were intentional in keeping your voice light not wanting to further upset the firecracker. “I’m waiting on my thank you.”

“For what. Tryna get me to talk to the traitor-“

“Atsumu. He's your brother. Grow up. I’m just trying to help out my friends-“

“Yer just Aran’s sister who has a stupid crush on Samu. That’s why yer taking his side,” at that your eyes widen and the annoyance starts to set. Before you could refute he cuts you off.  “We’re not friends. Never have been and never will be. Go hang out with Samu if you’re that desperate”

Silence settled upon the two of you before you swallowed the lump that had started to form. 

“You’re right. We’re not friends and I’m just Aran’s stupid little sis how could i forget,” your tone is mocking as you gather up your own food. “You clearly have some issues to work through with Osamu and you’re upset but I’m not gonna be your verbal punching bag. Keep the lunch,” you sigh before standing. “I’ll see you around, maybe.” Atsumu couldn’t pinpoint it then but there sense of finality in your voice might’ve aided in the further irritation he carried through the rest of the day. 

You’re not even sure when the twins got back on good terms. One day they’d started hanging back out at your place with Aran however you made it a point to never be around. It wasn’t until your brother’s graduation months later that Atsumu caught you for more than a few fleeting seconds. 

“He’s really graduated huh-“ you were sitting in the empty gym after the ceremony. Everyone else had gone outside before you ditched your family with the promise of catching up and being back for Aran’s celebratory dinner. However Atsumu had watched you slip back in and curiosity killed the fox. 

“Hey Tsumu,” you hummed, eyes glued on the chairs covering the floor. You only glanced at him once you felt the bleachers creak and did as he settled next to you. 

“Why’re ya in here (Y/N)”

“Just thinking. I’m gonna miss him-“

“Arans really leaving us for the big guys huh- they grow up so fast.” The lightness in Atsumu’s voice has you smiling before shaking your head before focusing back on the gym floor. 

“Not Aran. Well- yeah I’m gonna miss him too but I’m talking about my boyfriend. Well ex who kinda broke up with me yesterday. Something about going off to Uni and needing something new. Seeing him here too was weird.”

Atsumu just nods. He’d heard that you’d started dating some 3rd year shortly after your disagreement. According to Aran and even Osamu the guy wasn’t necessarily a bad guy but wasn’t really a good one either. “(Y/N) could do better but if she’s happy,” he’d listen to Aran complain before, a rarity from a guy who tried seeing the good in people. And it was true, you were happy. Extremely so. 

“Sorry about that,” you just give him another nod before he sighs. “M’sorry about blowing up at ya a while back too. Saying that we weren’t friends,”

“Is Miya Atsumu apologizing for someone.” Your fake shock is accompanied by you turning your body to face his. “Do I need to get this on camera for proof. Where’s Rin.” The way you pull out your phone pretending to film has him laughing before jokingly telling you to shut it. 

“You worked things out with Samu?”

Atsumu only shrugs. “I’m still pissed but we still have 1 more year. And I gotta focus on being happier and more successful.”

“Do I even wanna know?”

Instead of responding Atsumu just stands before offering you a hand. “Ya going to the party?” He was referring to the one the parents had planned to celebrate the graduates. It was at your house but you weren’t sure if you were gonna actually show or just hang with a friend for a few hours. You still hadn’t taken his hand up and he looked at it expectedly. 

“Hadn’t decided. Kinda sad ya know,” you joke before taking it. 

“All the more reason. Forget about that loser. Besides if Aran finds out I knew ya were sad and did nothin’ he’d kick my ass.” You thought for a moment before caving, not even noticing had neither of you had let go. 

That was the start of it all for you two. Following the party you’d rekindled your friendship with the twin and as break started the two of you grew closer. There’d been many nights when you two would sneak out and go on late night adventures. Convenience store runs. Scooter rides or even to parks to help him practice. You’d even started hanging around when they had official team practices to where he’d started walking you home. 

Your first kiss happened on one of those walks. Your arms had brushed several times as he complained about poor spikes or missed serves and how they weren’t gonna be Karasuno with that performance. 

“They’re stressing you out just how you stressed Kita out captain”

“And yer brother,” you nod as your hands brushed again. “How’s he doin anyways,” 

“Pretty good. Just practicing a lot and stuff. He’s always tired when we talk.” Another brush. You start tuning Atsumu out as you debate on making a move. The two of you had gotten considerably closer to the point where people had teased calling him your boyfriend. However you could’ve been imagining it and the chemistry. Maybe he just saw you as a sister much like Osamu but picked up on your feelings and didn’t wanna hurt them and ruin things. 

“Hey Atsumu,” the way you stopped had him confused. However before he could question it you started. “Do you like me? Like-like me?”

He thought for a moment before answering just with a shrug. “Well yeah. Course Aran would kill me for some of my thoughts but—yeah.” You weren’t even sure why you were so surprised with the ease of how he admitted it. He always said what he meant and all you could do was nod before managing to could out something that sounded like “good”

“Good. That’s all ya gotta say? C’mon (Y/N) give me something. Do ya like me?” With a nod from you he finds himself surprisingly flustered before doing the same as you. Only this time he’d moved closer head lowering. “Well that’s good”

The two of you started dating shortly after and into your last year. It wasn’t something that went unnoticed either. The way he’d lean against your locker trying to be cool, definitely falling more than once. The few people that had been privy to your quick makeout sessions when you’d meet up in empty hallways while you were supposed to be using the restroom. The way you’d started eating lunch together more often and if people played enough attention they’d noticed that you often shared drinks because “things taste better when they aren’t yours.” Then the most obvious, how you’d hang around early at games and stayed after and how he was so excited to beat Karasuno at nationals that he’d actually made out with you in public. (Aran had nearly murdered him upon finding out about that)

After graduation you two had gone off to different places and it was a struggle. There were arguments about not making time for one another. Between your academics and his pursuit at going pro, it was a struggle. But things were always made worth it. The time you’d created and sent him a care package and he texted you back a selfie with the basket with tears in his eyes. Or how you made the 3 hour train ride down for important matches or during your school breaks because he’d sounded super down about not being able to nail a new serve. 

There were times where he’d stay on video call with you long after he should’ve been in bed because you were stressed about finals and up still studying. Then the time he surprised you by coming down for a milestone birthday. He’d showed up at your apartment at some odd hour completely exhausted and ready to fall over the second you opened the door. 

“Atsumu?”

“Surprise baby,” he slurred using the last bit of his energy to hug you tightly. “Happy birthday”

“Tsumu what are you doing here,” you’d pull away however he attached himself back to you arms locked around your middle and face buried in the side of your neck.

“Talk later, sleep now.” You find yourself nodding before prying his hands off your and intertwining them with yours. 

“Let’s get you some sleep Tsumu”

There were the late night drives as young adults listening to old school music and singing your hearts out just having fun. It was during the holidays and you two had both gone back home to be with your families. 

“Hey babe technically this is us.” Atsumu is the one to turn the radio down as a familiar song starts. “And you were my babyyyyy,” His screeching fills the car causing you to laugh and swat the hand that had been casually resting on your thigh off. “It started when we were younger-”

“Atsumu shut up and pay attention to the road.” You smile as his hand immediately finds its way back on you. “But you are my boo.”

The night the Jackals beat the Adlers you were sure Atsumu would want to go out and party and you were more than fine with it. However while waiting for him to finish up you’d gotten word of his celebratory plans from a post game interview. “Just gna hang at home. Watch a few movies, eat a cheat meal, ya know.” 

It’s about an hour later before Atsumu meets up with you at the stadium's entrance. You notice how his hair hadn’t fully dried as he shifts his duffel bag to the other arm to grab your hand on your preferred hand holding side as the two of you make your way across the parking lot. “Are you sure you don’t wanna go out with the guys?”

The squeeze of his hand confirms his decision. “I’ll see em’ tomorrow. We haven’t spent much time together these days. As the two of you approach the car you let go before asking him if he wanted you to drive. After he confirmed he was good to you slipped into the passenger seat listening as he tossed his bag in the back before sliding into the driver's seat. “Besides,” his hand makes its way towards your cheek, guiding your face to his. “I can think of a much better way to celebrate.”

“Is that so?” Your tease is quiet as you inch closer lips only a hair away. He’s the one who closes the space and you immediately reciprocate. Your lips immediately move against his mumbling a “congratulations” against his lips. You indulge it for a moment before pulling away to press kisses up his neck until you reach his ear before whispering something. 

“Are ya serious?” At your nod he lets out a groan that you can’t help but laugh at him. “Yer gonna be the death of me one day”

“Love you too.”

The day he found out he’d made the Olympic team had been cause for celebration for more than one reason. The two of you had been getting ready for a regular day of running errands when he got the call. After hanging up he yelled for you so loud it could have gotten a noise complaint from neighbors. 

“Atsumu why are you yelling. Im in the bathroom not fucking Antarctica.”

“I’m on the Olympic team baby.”

Following that you decided to turn the day into an Atsumu day something that made his heart swell. From the way you kept telling him how proud of him you were to watching his favorite movie even though you hated it. Once you insisted on making his favorite for dinner he knew it was time. In return he convinced you to get dressed in something other than sweats to eat dinner on your couch. “I just think we should take some pictures so I can show off my biggest supporter,” is what he told you with a shrug when you questioned it.

You also shouldve known something was up when he insisted that he had desert covered, because the man couldn’t bake for shit. “It's a delivery, cmon have some faith in me.”

“I do baby. In everything except for baking.”

You’d just finished eating dinner and the two of you were cuddled on the couch watching another movie, one of your boyfriend’s choices. You’d shifted uncomfortably for the fifth time before looking at Atsumu. “Can I change yet, these jeans aren’t comfortable anymore.” You were caught off guard when he moved so that he pulled you so that you were straddling him.

“Better?” 

“Not at all,” you rolled your eyes while he just laughed, fingers squeezing at your hips. 

“Just wait til desert, yer brother’s on his way with it now.” He placed a quick kiss on the skin of your collarbone before pointing at his phone for you to hand to him. “Did he tell ya he's on the olympic team too?”

“He's my brother. I was gonna treat him to dinner tomorrow. You tell Samu yet?”

“Not yet. Was gonna do it after Aran left.” You don’t miss the way Atsumu tries to hide the messages on his phone, his brightness all the way down, something he usually hates. Before you can question anything he's pulling you so that your lips meet his. “Stop looking so concerned,” he whispers against your lips. 

“Yer so fuckin pretty baby,” the way his fingers tighten against your sides and the way his tongue slips into your mouth has the quietest moan coming out of your mouth. You pout as he pulls away settling for kisses along your neck instead. “You’ve been so good to me today. Can’t wait to get to bed with you.”

Before anything could go any further a knock on the door interrupts. “It's probably Ojiro,” you whine, mildly annoyed at your brother for interrupting you from where things were headed. “Tsumu let go,” you frown at the failed attempt of getting off him. You've met with a quick kiss before his palm comes firm against your ass, a yelp escaping. With that he lets you go laughing at the scowl you shoot him as he goes to get the door. 

You don’t even bother to look at the two yet you can hear Aran’s scold that the two of you were disgusting.

“How’d ya know we were even doin anything”

“Your lips are swollen.” After that the two of them get into a whispered conversation that you can’t pick up on no matter how hard you try to listen. Before you know it your brother crosses through the apartment to place a box in the kitchen before joining you in the living room. “Congrats big bro,” you stand hugging him slightly before plopping down on the couch. He gives a smile of thanks before changing the subject.

“Miya here isn’t corrupting you too much right.” You both ignore Atsumu’s exclaim that he isn’t the one corrupting anyone has you hear him shuffle around in the kitchen. 

When he gets back he brings the box, some plates and a few utensils. “What is it?” He nearly trips trying to set it all down before you get up to help him. After helping him you notice that he doesn’t sit back on the couch and looks off. “Tsumu are you ok?” You give your brother a concerned look but he just shrugs. 

“(Y/N). could ya,” he nervously motions for you to stand back up and you comply confused. Grabbing his hand you watch him carefully, silently trying to check in on him. When he doesn’t answer you lean up to place a quick kiss on his lips. A silent “I love you,’ something that seems to calm him down. “I I love you too”

“You wanna sit down now?”

“Yeah just let me get this off my chest first?” Your nod is his signal to continue. “I don't remember when I met ya. At all. All I know is that there was this super cool guy with a super cool name and me and Samu kinda just followed him around. Then we found out he had a little sister.” You were used to some of Atsumu’s mindless babbling but the reason for bringing that up right then and in front of Aran was still going over your head. 

“Somewhere along the way I fell in love with ya. I can tell ya that the first day I realized my crush was after Aran’s graduation. You were sittin in the gym and we just talked. You were sad about some loser and I didnt like that. Course I couldn't say anythin cause we weren’t even really friends then.” That pause is when what might be happening hits you and you freeze. It’s something Atsumu notices right away, eyes looking at you with concern. “Ya alright?”

The only thing you could do was nod offering a slight squeeze of his hand prompting him to continue. “Alright—where was I —ok. Then we got together and I knew it was love. Ya made me feel like I was I’m top of the world even when I was a jackass.”

“I almost thought we wouldn’t make it when ya when off to university. It was hard but we made it. we used to argue so much about stupid shit back then too. You were there before anyone knew who I was as a kid and have stayed with me all the way to being an Olympic athlete.” 

At this point you watch as he begins to kneel and you’re hit with the fact that he’s really about to do it. You’re nodding before he even asks which causes him to laugh. “Let me finish alright.”

“I’m so in love with everything about you and after the announcement I realized we weren’t gettin any younger. You’ve been my boo since we were 17 and here we are almost a decade later. You’re still my boo and I want it forever. So (Y/N) will you marry me?”

You’re not even sure real words came out before you’ve tackled him to the ground in a hug immediately pressing kisses all over his face. Your eyes are teary as his hand rubs comforting circles on your back. The two of you are there for a few moments before Aran finally clears his throat. 

“I can't believe my little sister is engaged. And to Atsumu no less.congratulations you two.” He shoots you both a warm smile as he watches the two of you. After getting up your arms fling immediately around Aran. 

“Did you know about this,” the tears finally begin to fall as he just laughs confirming. “I can't believe you let him ambush me like this.” You feel your brother's arms embrace you at the mixture of laughing and crying. 

“Hey, I knew he was proposing soon, not the day. He just called me up earlier claiming today was the day. Now stop crying and look at the cake.” Confusion crosses your face until you’re turned around to see Atsumu holding a cake that reads: marry me? (pls) the ring placed right under the words. 

After you'd calmed down the three of you just sat in the living room catching up when you realized something. “Atsumu, you were so corny with the song reference.” Looking at Aran the two of you immediately burst into laughter. “I can't believe you referred to me as your boo. Out loud and in all seriousness”

“I got it on camera too. Got him in 4K” Aran shakes his head. 

“I can't believe this. I propose and yet still clowning me. I miss when ya were all emotional,” your fiancé huffs. Despite that he doesn’t move at all from sitting so close that your legs touched. His eyes kept shooting at the ring on your finger and the desire to get you alone grew by the minute. At some point his hand slipped from the back of the couch to your thigh offering a squeeze. 

It was then that Aran cleared his throat. “That’s my cue to head on out. I’ll see you tomorrow sis. Congrats again you two. Don’t—I’m not ready to be an uncle yet, s’all I gotta say.” 

“After the Olympics work better for ya teammate?” 

“How about never Miya” 

The two of you bid your brother one last goodbye after the warning and before the door is even fully closed your fiancé is pulling you back into his lap. Your heart swells at the way Atsumu’s eyes look at you with so much love and your voice comes out way quieter than you intended. “Still can’t believe you quoted Usher”

Atsumu groans at that The hand that had been plaing with your, ghosting over the ring comes to a stop. . “I’m never showing anyone else that video.” 

“It’ll be our little secret.” 

“You're lying”

The smirk on your face tells him all he needs to know and all he can do is shake his head. “If yer gonna tell my deepest secret I’m gonna need you to make it up to me.” His hand slip around your waist, fingers skimming the space where your shirt had ridden up. you return the touch by trailing your hands until palms are placed again his chest. 

“I think we can arrange something. Isn’t that right pretty?” The touch and hushed words were enough to cause heat to flare across your skin. 

“What’d you’d have in mind?”

“A few things,” Atsumu leans close, placing kisses everywhere except your lips. First your close one. Then along your jaw. Right on the corner of your lips. “Think we’ve got some celebrating to do, fiancé.”

Atsumu forgot to tell Osamu that night and was ambushed the following morning after watching his private story in which Atsumu made you flash your hand to the camera with an obnoxious number of zooms with the caption: made the Olympic team and got my forever boo 🤪

[raysofcrosby]

NOW THAT I FOUND YOU – M. BARZAL

requested: yes | no

warning(s): cursing, slight mentions of sex, but other than that, nothing.

word count: 5,868

authors note: welcome to my new series :) i have no idea how long this is going to last, but i’m pretty excited for it. so, first things first, considering what i have planned for the character of jeremy, i didn’t want to use a real rangers player. so jeremy is a fictional dude on the team. i think that’s it for now, i’m not really sure what else i can think of about this series. so, oh well, enjoy :)

my masterlist | stuff i have planned | who i’ll write for | requests

"I can't take it anymore!" Tito said, storming into the locker room and stomping his way over to his cubby. "I am literally going to take her to the Brooklyn bridge and throw her into the Hudson."

Mat looked up from his skates and over at his best friend as he plopped down into his cubby, huffing, and puffing as he got undressed. He looked over at Anders, who was looking at Brass...the three of them all sharing confused looks at their locker neighbor. "Uh, you okay over there Tito?" Anders asked, looking at Mat for at least the slightest hint as to what he could be rambling on about.

"No clue," Mat mouthed, shrugging his shoulders and looking back down as he continued to tie his skate.

"No, I'm not okay," Tito tossed his sweatshirt into his cubby and stepped out of his joggers. "Does anyone want a newly 22-year-old female college student? Because I have one and I'm not opposed to passing her off before I result to murder."

"I'm pretty sure that is illegal, buddy," Jordan said, walking by and patting him on the shoulder. "Both are, actually. Like, highly illegal."

"Oh, God Tito," Matt said, coming out from the bathrooms. "What are you bitching about now?"

"She ironed my underwear." Tito tugged on his pants over his compression shorts and sighed, shaking his head.

"What?" Mat laughed, reaching behind him and grabbing his compression shirt.

"Y/N...she ironed my underwear," he stood up and turned towards his cubby, pulling a pair of ironed boxers out of the duffle he had carried in with him and turned back towards the guys. "I went to grab a pair this morning and I was greeted with this! They're stiff, feel powdery and quite frankly smell like shit–"

"Are you sure that's the soap and not just your horrible hygiene?" Matt joked, tossing a water bottle at him.

"Manchuk...Matty," Tito smiled, turning in their direction. "How do you two feel about having a live-in nanny? Her cooking skills are subpar unless even worse if the recipe comes off of Pinterest. She consumes more wine than water– but she's great with kids."

"I'm just finding it hard to believe your only problem with Y/N is the fact she ironed your underwear," Jordan said, shaking his head. "What's the catch?"

"Yeah, there's got to be something else that has you considering pre-meditated murder," Matt chimed in with a loud laugh.

"I NEED TO GET LAID, all right?!" Tito yelled, tossing his ironed pair of boxers back into the duffle bag. "I need to have hot, drunken sex with a stranger who lets herself out in the morning! I need to get laid so fucking bad, but I can't do it with my sister in the room across from mine! It's gross."

The locker room was silent as his teammates just stared at him. Mat wanted to laugh at his best friend but didn't want to do it at his expense. Sure, he'd been there a time or two, what young guy in his 20's hasn't. But never had he yelled about it to his teammates in such an exaggerated fashion. "Have you thought about telling her that?" Mat asked, grabbing his practice jersey and sliding it on over his head. "Y/N's pretty reasonable, I'm sure she'd agree to go to a friends or something for the night."

"Oh yeah, let me just go ahead and tell my little sister, 'hey, do you mind getting out of the apartment for the night? I need to get my dick sucked. Thanks, don't tell mom!'" Tito sat down to put on his skates, giving Mat a sarcastic look. "Does that sound good to you, Barzy?"

"I don't know about Barzy, but that sounds great to me," Matt laughed as he tied his pants. "Why is she staying at your place? I thought she was in Uni? Doesn't she have a dorm?"

"Nope, she followed her doucheface of a boyfriend down here and he convinced her to stay in his apartment instead of getting a dorm." He stood up and reached into his locker, grabbing his practice jersey. "Next thing I know, she shows up at my door crying, saying they broke up and she's been at my place ever since."

Mat remembered that night. He and Tito were pre-gaming, finishing off their drinks, and waiting for the uber to arrive. They were coming off of a high, absolutely destroying the Maple Leafs 5-0 and that high followed them home. Everyone on the team was going out– it was a well called for a celebration, even the guys with families at home. Normally, the team would pregame together before taking ubers over to whatever club or bar they decided to take over for the night. But those who did have kids at home wanted to stop at home and say goodnight to their wives and kids before heading out.

They were talking about whether or not they wanted to wait up here for the uber or wait down on the street when a knock barely made noise about Tito's playlist. Mat thought he had heard something but wasn't sure if he had confused it with the bass or not. So, he brushed it off. It wasn't until a small break in the song when the two of them could hear three rapid knocks, followed by the sound of your voice coming from the other side of the door, did they know that you were there.

Mat was closest to the door, so he was the one who walked over and looked through the peephole. He knew it was you just based on the sound of your voice from when you knocked, but, it didn't hurt to be safe and check to see who was at the door– that way Tito couldn't blame him if he let a random into his apartment. He recognized the hoodie you were wearing, it was the Beauvillier Islanders hoodie that Tito had gotten you for your birthday just this past summer. Mat told him it was a stupid gift, but Tito laughed, saying that it was his way of tricking you into finally wearing something in support of him since you had stopped wearing Islanders gear the moment you started dating Jeremy last fall. A Rangers player you had met on a girls' night out in the city. "A mix of interests" as your excuse, and Tito was bothered that his sister wouldn't wear his team's logo anymore– but instead, the logo on their top rival.

It was a mess, but one that Mat never, ever wanted to get involved with.

But there you were, dripping wet from the thunderstorm that had been hovering over the city from the moment he walked into Barclay to play. You had the hood on your head and you were avoiding eye-contact with the door– but he knew it was you. So, he opened the door with no hesitations, barely getting out a simple hi before you brushed by him and darted down the hallway, a door slamming behind you.

Tito, in true fashion, paused his music and stomped after you, mumbling about how you were just going to stroll into his apartment, that he pays for, and slam his doors without even saying hello. Mat remembered laughing, just because the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was an interesting one. He came back a few moments later, shoving his phone into his pocket and walked over to Mat. He said that he couldn't get much out of you but the fact that you and Jeremy had broken up and he needed to pay the cab driver downstairs $40 for driving you from Manhattan.

Tito was a good brother. He could be a huge pain in the ass, sure. You and he had had more than your fair shares of endless, rigorous chirping fights that most of the time, left Mat standing there just looking between the two of you like he was watching a match. But still to this day, Mat could never understand why Tito didn't seem all that bothered about how abruptly you had walked into his apartment. Tito had you and Francis, and more often than not, always brushed you off as one of the guys thanks to your tomboy upbringing. Mat had a sister and she's dated one too many assholes for his liking, so he could spot it from a mile away.

Your face was swollen and red and he was more than positive that you had cried the entire car ride there.

And you've been living at Tito's ever since.

"I'm serious, I need her to leave," Tito was following behind him as they left the locker room to head out to the rink. "And I can't just kick her out."

"You literally just talked about shoving her into the Hudson," Jordan laughed, shaking his head. "I think you can do something as simple as, 'hey, maybe you should find someone to stay with for a while.'"

Tito just rolled his eyes as he stepped out onto the ice, skating beside Matt. "I'm serious Barzy, I think she's driving me insane."

"It was one incident, Tito," Mat said, shaking his head. "Y/N isn't that bad."

"It wasn't just one incident," they cut the corner, Mat pushing himself ahead. "She almost burnt down my kitchen trying to make breakup cupcakes. She's redecorated my bathroom with bath bombs and make-up, she even got rid of my Shrek shower curtain!"

"To be fair, that's your guest bathroom and that Shrek shower curtain was hideous"

"Regardless! She's slowly taking over my entire apartment and turning it into her...her...her stupid lovesick breakup reno project!" He tossed his arms up in the air, letting them fall back down and almost hitting Brass in the head. "Oops, sorry bud!"

Mat laughed as they cut another corner, shaking his head. "Have you ever tried talking to her?"

"No, because then she'd get her puppy eyes all going and I'd feel like even more of a douche for wanting her out." He huffed, shaking his head. "I need an excuse, something to just...get her out for a few weeks until I can find her someplace to stay for the rest of the year. Then plead with her housing office to find her a dorm."

"I don't know what to tell you, man." Mat said, skating ahead.

"I'll come up with something, I'm sure I can cash in a favor somewhere." Tito sighed, as the two of them joined the rest of their team at center ice for stretching.

Mat just laughed, shaking his head at his best friend. Sure, if he was in the same position, it wouldn't exactly be his ideal living situation to have his sister living across the hall– but he definitely wouldn't be as against it. At least, he didn't think so.

~

"I've figured it out."

Mat felt his foot slip against the wet tile and his heart practically jumped out of his chest as the slipping feeling. He held his right arm out, holding himself steady against the tile before ducking his head beneath the shower head, letting the conditioner rinse from his hair. He looked over his shoulder to see Tito standing at the opening of the shower area, freshly showered with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Yeah, can we not talk about this right now?"

"I'm just letting you know, I figured it out." Tito smiled, nodding before walking away from the shower.

Mat shook his head, spitting out some water before turning off the water and grabbing the towel he had hung up just to the right. He wrapped it around his waist, shaking his head as he ran his fingers through his hair to get all of the excess water out. He almost dreaded making his way back towards the locker room. Tito had been pestering him all practice, trying to make him come up with ways he could kick you out.

Fake an insect infestation? No, then he'd have to leave his apartment too.

Figure out a way to get some flooding in her room? But then he'd have to hire someone to clean up all of the water.

Every outrageous idea possible had crossed his mind and Mat had to listen to it for the entire practice. As if the practice itself hadn't been draining on him, listening to him go on and on was even more.  But, he was playing the best friend role, and did say he would help him on one condition– it didn't involve hurting your feelings.

"Great, you're here, now listen–"

"No to the insects. No to an animal break-in and we already decided that pouring water on her stuff and saying a pipe was leaking wouldn't work," Mat said, sitting down in his locker and looking at Tito. "What in the hell could you have come up with now?"

"Remember how I said I could cash in a favor?"

Mat nodded, standing up and grabbing his street clothes as he turned his back to Tito. "Yeah, did you figure it out?"

"I sure did."

Mat stepped into his boxer briefs and dropped the towel as he picked up his joggers. "All right? And who's the poor sucker?" Tito hadn't replied as fast as he had been and Mat would be lying if he said it wasn't a little concerning. He tugged the waistband of his joggers up before turning to see Tito smiling at him. "What are you looking at?"

"I'm looking at the poor sucker who owes me a favor." He had his classic shit-eating smirk on his face, the kind cameras always zoomed in the moment he checked someone hard.

Mat blinked once, twice, three times before the reality set in. His brain was racing through every recent time he spent with Tito, never once remembering an event where he said that he owed him a favor. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You owe me a–"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you said," Mat put his arms through his sweatshirt, tugging his down and over his head before running his fingers through his hair again. "But I don't know what you're talking about. When did I ever owe you a favor?"

"When I saved your ass that night at Nest when you were picking up the redhead but that hot tinder girl with blue hair you invited showed up." Tito stood up and walked over to Mat, still smiling. "I performed the perfect, switcharoo maneuver so that the redhead never noticed you took tinder girl home."

"You took the redhead home! How is that helping me?" Mat turned towards his locker and grabbed his phone and Gatorade, shaking his head. "Besides, that was two years ago."

"It was a win for both of us! You didn't get totally bitchslapped in the club and I got laid," Tito followed behind him, staying on his heels. "It may have been two years ago, but you still said, 'Tito, man...I owe you one.'"

"I don't–"

Tito cut him off, standing in front of him as they stood in the hall. He crossed his arms, his smile falling from his face. "And now I'm cashing it in. You're helping me get Y/N out of my apartment."

Mat rolled his eyes, resting his hands on his hips. "And how exactly am I supposed to help you with that? You've literally exhausted every plausible option." When Tito didn't come up with a reply, Mat just shook his head and brushed by him.

"I've got an idea bro, I swear," He jogged up behind him as they walked out of the arena to head towards the parking lot. "But, you're probably not going to like it."

As the crisp fall air greeted them, Mat could hear the voice in the back of his head telling him not to entertain Tito. A gut feeling deep inside that this wasn't going to work out– none of Tito's ideas ever worked out. "What is it?"

Tito hesitated, unsure just how his best friend would reply. Sure, he's had plenty of other crazy ideas before– but this one might just be way out there. But he didn't care, he was a young, physical and thriving man in his early 20's– and at this point, he didn't care about logical reasoning. He just desperately needed to get laid. And if that meant brushing his sister off onto his best friend, he'd do it.

"You're going to pretend you're utterly heartbroken from some break up and can't be alone–"

Mat stopped in his tracks, whipping around to Tito with wide eyes. "Dude what the–"

"Y/N is a total empath and when I tell her all about your emotional turmoil and that I don't know how to help, she'll no doubt step in. Then I'll just figure something out to keep her out of my apartment and boom, problem solved."

"Problem not solved!" Mat yelled, waving his hand at Tito. "Your problem literally has about a million plot holes in it!"

Tito closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing before opening them and looking at Mat. "I'm going to need you to hear me out before you say no– which, may I remind you, isn't an option anyway."

Mat took a deep breath and sighed, knowing damn well that somewhere down the line, he'd regret this very moment he even gave Tito the chance to explain. Even his initial explanation seemed so fucking stupid that there was no way it could ever work out. But maybe, if he allowed him to explain, he'd realize just how unrealistic his plan was, and just drop the entire idea then man up and tell Y/N to stay with a friend. "Fine," he stopped at his car, unlocking it so Tito could get into the passenger seat. "But you're buying lunch."

~

This was such a bad idea– he knew it would be. From the moment the suggestion left Tito's mouth the first time, Mat knew it wouldn't work. There's no way it could. Hell, even Liana said it was when he called her for advice after his lunch. And as far as common sense goes, he likes to think that Liana has a lot more

Tito's plan stayed the same– Mat was supposed to play brokenhearted and after lunch, the two of them would go over to his apartment, where you would be home from class. Tito would comment on how Mat 'hasn't been the same' and make a joke about how the two of you should just live together in your misery. You, the empath that you were, would take an interest in Mat's "broken heart" and offer to help in any way. Tito, knowing Mat was actually in the middle of turning the third guest bedroom in his apartment into a man-cave/gaming room and how much you love decorating, I.E. his bathroom, would suggest that maybe you could help him with that too.

It wouldn't work, Mat was convinced of that from the moment the entire idea left Tito's mouth. He'd known you almost as long as he knew Tito, meeting you the summer after the 2015 IIHF World U18 Championship. You were only a year younger than them both and for the three weeks that Mat had stayed with your family, he felt like he got to know you pretty well. You guys weren't best friends by any means, but you were definitely good friends. Your friendship growing when you decided to transfer to Fordham and when you weren't hanging out with Jeremy or your classmates, you were with Tito, Mat, and their teammates.

Needless to say, he was confident walking into the apartment knowing that there was no way that you would fall for this horrible excuse. You wouldn't leave your room in Tito's apartment to come and stay with Mat because he was "too brokenhearted to function." But leave it to Tito to think that you would fall for it. He tried not to break character, he really did. But how the hell was he supposed to pretend to be brokenhearted from a failed relationship, when he's never felt that?

He's had relationships before, sure. Break-ups? Absolutely. But none so bad that he felt like he wanted to drink himself into a slumber or just hide under the covers for the rest of time. He had outlets to get out any negative emotion. He had hockey and he had the boxing classes he attended with Tito every now and again. Besides that, he never had strong feelings for someone to the point where he was feeling what you were feeling.

As predicted, you had agreed to go with Tito and Mat over to Mat's apartment to see just what he had to deal with. He felt a twinge of guilt when you started to ask the simple questions:

How are you feeling?

Do you want to talk about it?

What happened?

He and Tito hadn't gotten that far in the plan– creating a backstory, which should have been another sign that this was never going to end well. So, on the ride to his apartment, he just stuck with short answered replies– "fine" "not yet" "it's still too soon." And he wanted nothing more than to smack Tito in the passenger seat, who was trying his damndest not to laugh.

When they got to the apartment hours later, Mat led you to the third guest room, showing you just everything he had. In a corner on tarps, he had three cans of paint, all unopened and a bunch of painting supplies. In the middle of the room, boxed furniture he'd been too lazy to move. He was barely focused on what you were saying when he felt his phone vibrate and saw Tito nodding at him.

Tito: see? i told u. total diy/renovator. you could get free labor out of this.

Mat: one problem there, bud. she doesn't seem too keen to get out of your apartment. all she's done is offer to take me to lunch for the next week to 'talk about my feelings'

Tito: okay? go talk about your feelings.

Mat: I DON'T HAVE ANY FEELINGS

Mat: I DON'T HAVE A RECENT EX-GIRLFRIEND

"Are you two okay?" You asked, almost scaring the two boys. Mat shoved his phone back into his jacket pocket, staring at you with wide eyes. You had an eyebrow raised and looked awfully suspicious of them both.

"Do you guys want dinner?" Tito asked, already heading towards the door. "I can order some pizzas from down the street."

"That's okay," You said, following him towards the door. "I've got this new enchilada recipe I wanted to try and–"

"No!" Tito couldn't be any less obvious that he didn't want you to follow him, his raised voice causing you to step back and look at him in shock. "I uh, I mean...I already ordered them. Barzy and I talked about it...right?"

Mat glared at Tito, wishing deep down that this plan would fail, but knowing that he couldn't leave his best friend out to dry. "Yeah...we did." He turned to you, crossing his arms. "Hope that's okay."

"No, it's fine," you replied, nodding. "Pizza is good."

Tito clapped his hands together and smiled. "Great, I'll be right back!"

He couldn't have run out of the apartment any faster, leaving you and Mat there standing in the middle of the room. This wasn't part of the plan and Mat was pissed. He stared at the door, contemplating telling you about your brother's ulterior motive to all of this– but it wouldn't hurt Tito...it would hurt you. So he decided against it and turned to you, sighing. "We can go wait in the living room for him to come back."

You nodded and followed him out of the guest room, walking down the hallway. "Can I have something to drink?"

"Water? Wine?" He asked, waving you over to the couch as he stopped in the kitchen. "Tequila?" God, how he wanted a drink. At least it might alleviate the headache Tito's antics were causing.

"It's Monday," you laughed, leaning against the back of the couch. "I guess I could go for some wine."

"White or Red?"

"You have both?"

He laughed, turning around and placing two unopened bottles– one of each. "My mom likes red, I like white. It's her leftover bottle from when she was here a two weeks ago."

"I'll take a glass of white, thank you."

He nodded, putting the bottle of red back into the fridge before moving towards his cabinets and opening the drinking glasses– reaching up to the top and grabbing two wine glasses. When he turned back around, he looked over at you, ready to say something, but he stopped.

You were still leaning against the back of his couch, left arm draped across your stomach as the other held onto your phone. You were chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes glued to the screen. He normally wouldn't think anything of it, except for the look on your face. Even from where he was standing, he could notice the frown and the way that your eyebrows were burrowed towards each other. He noticed your fingers on your left hand were fidgeting, plucking at your Fordham long sleeve. Everything about you standing there was just...small, quiet– radiating energy that said, 'I don't want anyone to see me.' Which, in all of the years that he knew you, was the complete opposite of who you were.

He couldn't help but wonder what the hell Jeremy did to screw you up this bad.

He poured your glasses, putting the cork back into the bottle, and made his way to you. You were so lost in your phone, that it wasn't until he cleared his throat, that you realized he was standing there.

"Oh," you stood up a little straighter, putting your phone into your front pocket before taking the wine glass from him. "Sorry, I was just..."

"No need," he said, waving you off. "I don't need an explanation." He walked around the couch and sat down, nodding at you to join him.

You sighed, taking a sip of your wine before sitting down beside him, sinking back against the cushion. "So, Tito hasn't tried taking you to a strip club to help you out of your breakup funk?"

Mat laughed, his head leaning back against the cushion. "No, he hasn't," he took a sip of the wine, tilting his head to the side. "I don't think he'd leave if he did."

"He tried to offer to drop me off at that knockoff Magic Mike, two days ago." He looked at you like you had two heads, his mind spinning in circles at just how long Tito has been trying to get you out of his apartment. "It didn't work, it's not my scene."

"Male strippers?"

"Male strippers that aren't the cast of Magic Mike," you joked, laughing softly as you stared down into your wine. "I don't know, I just haven't really been in the mood to do anything besides go to class and sleep."

He wasn't sure how to reply. Even with Liana, he'd never really been that open with talking to her about his relationships or hers. That was a no-touch topic in their siblingship– only ever talking about it, just to say that they were seeing someone new. Never what happened during or after. Not to mention, he was supposed to be like you, heartbroken. He tried to copy your mannerisms– slumped into the couch, relaxed face– he even went as far as to try and tell himself to copy the tone in your voice.

But all he felt was guilt for playing into Tito's scheme and a genuine need to talk to you about what happened. He just didn't know how to go about it.

Your phone rang before he could ask you the dreaded 'how are you feeling' question, and you sighed, digging your phone out of your pocket and putting your wine glass down on the table. "What, Anthony?"

Mat held back his laughter as he took a sip of his wine. One thing was for sure, your attitude towards your brother hadn't changed from pre-breakup. He looked at you, your eyebrows knitted together as you brought your hand up to your forehead, rubbing it. "What do you mean? Is my stuff–" you sighed, closing your eyes. "No, you won't get electrocuted if you–"

He reached out, bumping his elbow against yours and raising an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

You looked at him, shaking your head as you pulled your phone away from your ear. "He forgot his wallet at home and went back to the apartment– I guess something leaked and my bathroom and room are flooded."

Mat had to act like he was surprised, but if anything he was pissed. This was the one scenario that they didn't agree on– simply because it wasn't fucking plausible. "Well have you talked to him? Maybe there's–"

Your head fell back against the cushion and you closed your eyes, sighing. "I didn't leave a faucet on, I didn't even go into my bathroom before we– can you stop interrupting me?"

He could hear Tito rambling on through the other side of the phone, no doubt barely giving you time to talk because he didn't want you to fill in the gaps of his fake story. "Well, where am I supposed to go?"

Mat chewed on his bottom lip, bringing the glass up to his lips as he knew this was when Tito was suggesting that you stay with him. He couldn't look at you because the guilt was taking over. He could tell you were stressed and obviously, Tito hadn't been exaggerating at just how bad you were after the breakup with Jeremy. And if he looked at you any longer, the guilt would swallow him up and he'd cave in and tell you everything.

"No, I'm not asking–" you sighed, taking a few deep breaths and exhaling before speaking again. "Because Anthony, it's rude! "

Mat felt like reaching over and grabbing your phone, ending the plan then and there. But again, he knew that the Beauvillier sibling dynamic was a lot different than any other one. Tito knew when to stop pushing, you were his sister after all. So, he sat next to you, sipping on his wine and waited for you to ask the question they'd been pushing you to do all along.

"Can you just...ask, please?" His eyes went wide the moment he heard the emotion in your whispered reply. "I can't just...move everything, I don't even have everything. It's all at Jer–" you stopped yourself, sitting up and hunching over, resting your head in your free hand. "And he said that's all that was available?"

He kept sneaking looks at you from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge whether or not the emotion in your voice was leading to tears. He brought his phone out of his jacket, opening to type a message to Tito.

"Fine, I'll...I'll just ask," he froze as you turned to him, holding your phone away from your ear. "Hey Mat?"

He placed his phone face down and away from your sight of vision you couldn't see that he was about to send a text to Tito. "Yeah?" Yikes, that wasn't casual enough. "What's up?" Better.

You were holding back tears and for the first time, he could see the dark circles beneath your eyes, still peaking out from whatever make-up you had put on that morning. Yeah, this plan wasn't good– this on was definitely a punch in the gut. "Do you think I could stay here? I don't have much and I–"

"Yeah, no," he cleared his throat. "No, I mean yeah...you can. I've got the guest bedroom."

You nodded, looking away from him and brought the phone back up to your ear. "There, happy?"

Oh, you have no idea how happy Tito was, was all that Mat could think as he brought his phone back out. "Can I at least come and get some stuff to– Yeah...okay. Yeah, see you."

You hung up the phone and your head fell back against the cushion, eyes closed. Mat looked at you, wondering whether or not he should dare to see if you were okay. He started to reach a hand out to nudge your arm when his phone vibrated.

Tito: IT WORKED! I'M FREE!

Tito: well...at least for the next week i am. i’ll need to figure out another excuse for the extra week i guess.

Mat: dude...i don't think this is a good idea. y/n's like...really emotional right now.

Tito: AND I'M GOING ON A TWO WEEK DRYSPELL.

Mat: okay, get laid tonight and let her come back.

Tito: nope. i'm using all seven days of this time and look on the bright side, now you'll get the guestroom done faster than you planned.

Mat: are you at least coming back with the pizza?

Tito: no, just her clothes. caroline is coming over in an hour.

He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head as he looked at you– still lying in the same position from when you hung up the phone.

Mat: dude, you so owe me one.

Tito: 👍🏻

Mat put his phone back into his jacket pocket and turned to you. He was sure that the movement on the couch would have been enough to get you to open your eyes– but you didn't budge. He reached out and nudged your arm and you opened your eyes and turned to look at him. "What do you think about Chinese?"

"Let me guess, he's not getting the pizza?" You asked, drained of any energy.

Mat bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. "No, he said they were packed," the lie was a lot better than telling her the truth. "If you're not feeling Chinese, we can go to Chipotle?"

"I don't know," you sighed, picking up the wine glass and taking a long sip. "Do you think we'd miss him?"

Not in a million years. Even if they did, he'd just drop the bag of belongings in front of Mat's door, no doubt.

"I'll buy you a large guac and a large queso," He smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Free of charge."

"You had me at large guac." You looked at him and then back at your wine glass, downing the rest before placing it back onto the table and turning towards Mat. "Besides, he's the one who didn't bother to offer me the couch in the new 1 bedroom he'd be staying in until everything is fixed. He can wait a few extra minutes if we're not back in time."

Mat just nodded, standing up with you and playing into your mood. "Yeah, fuck that guy."

You laughed, and for the first time since he walked into yours and Tito’s apartment...he saw you smile. He felt proud of himself for being able to cheer you up in some way. And maybe, he thought, if Tito wasn't going to look out for you...he could.

It was only for seven days, how bad could it be?

[irwinkitten]

men of mayhem | a.i

notes: so the majority of this is written already. but i probably won’t post the next part too soon. however, this is a sons of anarchy!au and i’ve been so excited about. you do NOT need to have watched the show to know what’s going on, but if you have seen the show, you may spot some familiar names and places. to give you a rough timeline, the oc (Michelle) and Ashton are born in 1978 and this part has various stages. She attends university in 1996 and the ending is taking place in the summer of 1998. We don’t see all of the guys in this part, but they will be making more appearances as the story goes on! A big thank you to @sexgodashton​ for going over this with a fine tooth comb and to @spicycal​ and @softbabiestan​ for being my cheerleaders. Love you guys.  warnings: mentions of violence, hints of smut, mentions of guns word count: 5.7k

donate to my ko-fi here 

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               When Michelle Morgan left the small town of Charming at the age of eighteen to pursue her dream career, she knew she was leaving behind more than her parents and baby brother, Matty. She was leaving behind a group who she’d grown up with. Many said that her childhood sweetheart would leave her in the dust, break her heart whilst she was in the big city, studying her chosen profession. But those many knew nothing about her hometown life.

Growing up with the Irwin’s had been something of a blessing for her. The Morgan’s took it as the sign that it was, because nobody in Charming messed with the Irwin’s. Although her father had never joined SAMCRO—the known biker gang who ran many things off the books as well as their mechanics business—he fully supported them, helping out with transport when they needed it. 

Her friendship with Ashton—the only son of Anne-Marie and Bert Irwin—only formed because she’d been cornered by the playground bullies at the age of five, and her vicious kicks to their shins followed by Ashton pulling them away from her had the two kids as thick as thieves since.

They’d been childhood sweethearts from the get go, and with the rest of SAMCRO being an influence in her life, her father knew that she was going to be involved somehow. Her mother  first mentioned being Ashton’s “Old Lady” when they were sixteen—celebrating her sixteenth birthday no less—causing both teens to blush furiously at her words. The other club members had laughed, and despite her bright red face, she scoffed.

“Don’t like the idea of that, lil’ lady?” Bert teased her, the nickname filled with nothing but the affection that he and Anne both had for Michelle.

“Someone is gonna have to pull your sorry asses outta the fire when your plans go to shit. That’s gonna be me. I’m gonna study and get into those bigshot firms. And I’m gonna come back and keep the lotta you out of trouble.” She missed Ashton’s look of awe, but the other club members hadn’t. 

But her words had hit home for them, and so they toasted her luck on her sixteenth birthday.

That night, when the two were hidden away in their den—despite what their parents assumed when Ashton pulled her away—they were lay on the various throws and pillows that lived on the floor, cuddled up as he played with her fingers, gently bringing her knuckles up to his lips.

“Did you mean that Micha? You really gonna go away for however long it takes to be a big shot lawyer?” When it was just the two of them, he never hid from her. The fear was laid out for her to see.

“It’s gonna be seven years of school at least. Maybe a couple more to work with the big firms and get cases under my belt.” 

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Silence for them never had been since he’d confessed that he loved her when they were fourteen and had loved her since they were six. 

“Ten years is a long time, sweetheart.” She turned in his arms to face him, her eyes searching his face. She could see the fear sitting there, plain as day for her. 

“It is. But I’m not letting you go, Irwin. We’ve got ten years of love on our side, with another two before I’d have to go to University. Surely we can make it through another ten? I know your dad won’t put you on any of the runs, not till you turn twenty one. Which means we got four years of unfiltered time for you coming to visit, right?” 

“Of course.” He whispered, his lips brushing against hers softly. “Reckon you’ll let me into your pants before you leave?” And she giggled, his own face lighting up in joy.

“Reckon you can wait till I’ve gotta leave. I know you’re not gonna complain when my lips can be put to better use for the next two years.” He rolled over with a playful growl, pinning her down which earned a small giggle as he playfully nipped at her neck. 

“I reckon I can do that. But, I’ve gotta treat my birthday girl tonight.” His lips met hers and she didn’t argue. 

When she was accepted into University, the club had celebrated with her, watching in anticipation for her acceptance. She’d studied so hard for her entrance exams and had already imparted some knowledge to Bert to keep him out of trouble.

Her first year had been daunting. Ashton visited her once a month at most thanks to the cost of gas, but it was enough for them.

That was when people began to tell her that they’d never last. 

Men in her class would tell her that she’d be better off with them, but Michelle held her own. They didn’t like that. They tried to get vicious with her in the mock court sessions and various debates, but she had a secret weapon.

She’d grown up with SAMCRO, and in the words of Chibs, “she’s got balls of diamond that one”. Ashton had laughed at his words, and she’d thrown the drinks mat at his face, making the other club members laugh.

When she’d come home for the holidays, Bert had heard enough from Ashton to track her down and ask her if she wanted a second layer of protection. 

“I can’t give you Ashton, I need him here unfortunately. Him and Hood get into enough trouble.” This made her grin. 

“Throw in Hemmings and Clifford, and that’s going to be a disaster when they start doing runs.” Bert had snorted at her words.

“Either it’ll be crazy enough that it’ll work or a disaster.” He muttered before pulling the two of them back on track. “Instead of Ash, I figured it was about time that Chibs and I taught you how to shoot a gun, don’t you think?” 

“I know how to shoot a gun,” came back the retort, and Bert smiled.

“Ah, but from a moving vehicle? And what about awareness of your surroundings, lil’ lady?” Michelle paused before reluctantly shaking her head at his questions.

“I guess not.” She finally muttered and he grinned.

“Chibs and I will start you tomorrow. Ash can come as well. Maybe get him to rope Hood, Hemmings and Clifford into it. The four of them are gonna be a force to reckon with when he takes over.” 

“Oh no bet on that one. Cal will be his VP. You need to make sure that Bobby doesn’t murder them when they prank him because you know he’s gonna be their easy target.” 

The two of them made their way back into the Irwin household. Michelle laughed as her little brother rushed to greet her. It had definitely been strange being away from Matty for so long.“You’re not wrong. C’mon lil’ lady. You’ve been missed by a lot of people.” 

He’d guided her into the main dining and sitting room to find nearly all of the club there along with what was considered the next generation of club members. All of the younger members kept away from the free flowing alcohol, knowing that the following day was going to be daunting as it was. Michelle was happy enough to stay sober to talk to her parents and sit with Matty on her lap, listening to him going on about all the things he’d done in the months that she’d been away. 

Ashton barely left her side. 

The following morning felt like it was straight out of the movies. But she knew that this was the reality for the club members who did the various runs. 

Unsurprisingly, Ashton helped both Bert and Chibs. Michelle hadn’t expected anything less from her boyfriend, but even then, it still stunned her the trust that he had in her not to hit him with a bullet when it came to being aware of club members versus rivals. 

“Am I gonna really need to know this kinda stuff?” The complaint had been good natured, but the elder Irwin understood her hesitation. He hadn’t risen to her complaint, making her go through their course again. It was late afternoon before Chibs finally called to a halt, and they began to pack down, making sure nothing was left behind.

Once they were ready to go, Bert motioned for the other two to head off. Ashton scowled for a moment before his dad sighed.

“I just need to talk with your girl. I’ve got intel on her uni, and you need to go meet with Hood. the Harris’ have payments due.” With a quick kiss to his girlfriend, Ashton handed Michelle her helmet and then he was gone with Chibs.

“C’mon lil’ lady.” She didn’t hesitate to climb on the back of Bert’s bike. It was a level of freedom that she understood and part of her wanted her own to travel back to uni with, to show those men who thought she was easy that no one messed with her. 

The drive wasn’t too far out of Charming. It was mostly desert, but there was a little spot that gave a nice view of the town.

When the bike was parked up, Michelle was off first, heading to a small bench that had been left there by a previous resident.

“Ashton’s gonna be Club Prez one day. You and I both know this.” Michelle did know this. Both her and Ashton had known since they were kids. Ashton had always so desperately wanted to follow in his dad’s footsteps.

“What time frame?” She finally asked, turning her head to the man who had turned into a second father for her.

“Maybe by the time he’s twenty five. I’ve been CP for nearly forty years, and it’s time to retire for me.” This shocked Michelle, her eyes going wide. 

“But, Ash thought he wouldn’t be Prez til he was in his late thirties at least?” The surprise that coloured Michelle’s tone made Bert laugh as he threw his arm around her shoulders, squeezing her gently as he kissed her temple. 

“I’m glad that you both have faith in this old man. But unlike the others, I wanna be able to spoil my grandchildren when they come. I’m surprised that my boy hasn’t made an honest woman outta you.” 

Michelle blushed, making him laugh. “Shove off old man.” She groaned, pushing away from him, making him laugh even more.

“I just wanna know, what’s gonna happen. That’s all.” He raised his hands in surrender, and she sighed.

“We talked about it before I left in September. I want to finish school. He knows I’m already planning to spend maybe a couple of years in the big city in a firm so I have a few cases under my belt. He also knows that I want him. I never really wanted anyone else.” 

“And I know that, lil’ lady. That’s why I want to help you protect yourself. When Ashton becomes Club Prez, you know we’ve got problems that he’ll inherit. The second they find out you’re a lawyer? That’s a pretty lookin’ red target painted on your forehead.” 

Michelle nodded. “That’s why you had me take out the opposition vs our own.” 

Bert nodded. “I don’t anticipate you being part of the club like that. But if you get into a situation, I’ll be relieved to know that one of my girls can get away safely. You know we’d be devastated if we lost you, Anne-Marie especially.” Michelle felt her heart swell for this man and his wife. 

Her parents were good to her, and she knew that. And so were the Irwin’s. But knowing that they valued her like a daughter already made her appreciate just what she had in her life.

“At least by the time I’m finished with school, I’ll be there to haul his ass out of the fire coals.” Her murmured words made Bert laugh before patting her knee.

“And he’d be lucky to have you hauling his ass from the fires. C’mon lil’ lady. Let's get back before he goes off at me. I know you’re only here for a few more weeks, and he wants to spend as much time with you as possible.” 

When the two of them returned, Ashton didn’t hesitate to almost drag Michelle out to the den that they’d built as teenagers, making Bert laugh at her exasperated eye roll. But once the two of them were secluded away from the world, she happily nestled against him, their clothes long gone as she traced his tattoos.

“What was dad after?” His fingers ran up and down her spine, her body melting against him as she fought to keep her eyes open.

“Told me why he was doing that today, why he wanted me to know how to at least fight back.” She murmured and his lips pressed against the top of her head.

“And why would that be, sweetheart?” Her head tilted up so that her chin could rest on his chest, her eyes catching his. 

“You’re gonna be Prez eventually, Ash. Everyone and their mother know about us. He’s worried that when you take over, you’ll be inheriting problems he’s been dealing with for years. Just being associated with you paints a target on my back. When they find out that we’re together? That target moves to my forehead.” There was no way to paint it nicely, but Ashton understood, even if there was crease between his brows at her words.

“Hopefully being in the big city takes it away, you’re out of town for too long.” She smiled sadly at him before letting the subject drop. 

“He also asked why you haven’t made an honest woman out of me. I think he forgets we’re only eighteen, and I’ve barely been away for six months.” Ashton laughed, and the mood changed drastically as she shifted, straddling his hips. 

“Trust me sweetheart, when I’ve saved up, I’ll be making an honest woman outta you. Those big shots can get fucked when they see a nice, shiny diamond on your finger.” 

“Oh there better be a shiny diamond eventually, Irwin.” He laughed as she leaned down to kiss him. 

Time passed by for them. Whilst he was saving up the money he earned from helping the club and working with Bobby in the garage, Michelle worked her ass off. 

Despite repeatedly telling men that she was taken, none really believed it. However, when she landed a few punches after one of them got too handsy with her, they quickly realised that it didn’t matter what they believed.

She could fight back, and she could put them down quicker than they’d ever be able to step away from. 

When Ashton had found out, he’d taken a month away, despite Bert half-heartedly arguing, he realised that if anything, it would keep her safer if they saw what kind of boyfriend she had.

She was surprised when he turned up after her lecture to pick her up. The roar of the bike engine was so familiar that it sounded out of place in the big city.

Michelle had been chatting with Jennifer, as they’d left, deliberately ignoring the few guys that seemed to invite themselves along. When Jen had spotted her ride, she hesitated, unwilling to leave Michelle with the guys from their course, circling around her like vultures.

“I can see if Jack could drop you off, save you from these creeps?” They shared a giggle.

 “Thanks but I need to head to the bar. Old Jerry wants me to stop by soon to try his new cocktails...” The roar of the engine made her pause, her eyes immediately searching out the sound.

“Chelle?” Jen had prodded her to get her attention, but once Michelle spotted the bike, her face lit up in undisguised glee.

“I don’t need to worry about getting a ride, mine just arrived.” The guys that had been lingering, scoffed. 

“Really Morgan? You’re going after a lowlife, probably with no stable job and an arrest record?” She wasn’t sure of his name, Mike or Marc, but his words triggered her anger. As the bike pulled up, she spun around, ready to punch him before remembering where she was.

“If I wasn’t so determined to become a lawyer, I’d have decked you with no hesitation. However, that apparent lowlife has been my best friend since we were kids. Add in the fact he’s literally the love of my life, and you get the picture. No arrest record, his dad runs and owns a garage that he’s set to inherit one day and not to mention, I like my men a little rough around the edges. How about you go fuck the blow up doll your buddies got you for Christmas and get off my fucking ass.” She snapped and she watched as he glanced behind her.

“He gonna come in and save you then?” This time, she smirked.

“When you run around with men that look like they could kill you, you get taught how to defend yourself from creepy assholes. Try it and see where this will get you. Not to mention that I’m a scholarship student. Why would I jeopardize this chance for a career?” Her voice had turned innocent, sweet. But the dare was laid for all to hear.

“You’re an ugly bitch anyway.” He finally muttered before turning on his heel and leaving. She shared a look with Jen before they both started laughing. Michelle hugged her friend goodbye before running to where Ashton was standing, leaning against his bike. 

The hindrance of her skirt meant that he could only pick her up and swing her around, but she was finally in the safest place.

“It’s been a minute.” She finally breathed when their lips pulled away, his smile only having grown wider.

“I know, but there are reasons. However, you’ve got me for a good chunk of time, doll.” This made her light up in excitement.

“How much time?” His smile was impossibly wide at this point as he dipped his head to kiss her once more.

“At least a month.” His voice was low, setting the fire off in her belly, but even that couldn’t squelch the joy that surged through her as she kissed him.

“Lets head back to mine then, handsome. I’ve got some new things for you to enjoy.” He had to swallow his reply as she got herself sat on the bike, a laugh escaping at the put-out look on her face.

“Sorry doll, but it looks so strange to see you dressed like that on my bike.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. I haven’t got much of a choice. Dumb dress codes.” Ashton ignored her dar mutter as he placed her helmet on for her before climbing on and kicking the bike into life.

She’d missed the feeling of the bike underneath her. The way the engine rumbled was a reassurance, something that had come with years of riding around with Ashton and being taught to ride by Bert. It was a level of freedom that she never felt in the city, so enclosed and overrun with either pedestrians or cas. Bikes were around, but not ones like these, they were more what Bobby would call flashy toys, built for speed but would never survive one of the runs they did. 

When Ashton pulled up to Michelle’s place, there were nosey neighbours who peered from their windows to see what the noise was about. She outright ignored them as she took Ashton’s hand and led him up the stone steps to the house she was renting, the door barely closed before he had her pressed against the wall with his lips on hers.

 This was another thing she missed as she sighed into the kiss, the soft moan escaping as hands pushed up her skirt, and he began to tease.

“Do you think you’ll get complaints about any noise?” He murmured as his lips moved to her neck and she moaned at the sensations.

“Don’t care.” 

She didn’t hold back and neither did he.

When they were nestled up in her bed, having gotten their welcome home out of their systems, Michelle was dozing off against his chest when he leaned over to the floor, rummaging through his jacket pockets.

“What are you doing? I had a comfy pillow.” She muttered indignantly. He chuckled.

“I had a whole thing planned out, but being with you like this? Honestly it's the best moment I think.” 

This had her confused as he resumed his previous position but this time, she tilted her head so that it was resting on his chest, staring at him.

“And what moment would that be, Irwin?” He gave her the softest smile, one which she knew was reserved just for her.

“The moment to tell you that I’ve loved you for nearly my entire life, and I don’t want a life without you in it. Michelle Morgan, will you marry me?” he had the ring in his hands, and she couldn’t stop the gasp as she sat up, staring at him in shock.

“Ashton, this better not be a joke.” The tears threatened to fall and there was the soft smile again as he leaned forward to kiss her.

“I would never joke about this. You’re too important to me, Micha.” 

The first tear fell as she moved her trembling left hand, offering it to Ashton.

“Yes. Yes I will marry you.” The joy on his face in that moment sealed it for Michelle. As he slid the ring on her finger, he kissed it before his lips found hers once more.

“My sun, my moon, my stars.” He whispered.

When she went into her class on Monday, Jen was the first to notice the very shiny diamond ring on her finger.

“Oh my god, really?” Her friend gasped excitedly before pulling her into a hug. Michelle laughed.

“Really! He had this whole elaborate plan set out but ditched it because it didn’t feel like us. He wants to celebrate, but since he’s staying for the month, his brothers are going to travel up for celebrations next week. Ash wants to meet you and Jack and have a quiet double date before his brothers show up.” 

There were a few mutters from the men around them, but the two girls paid them no attention like they’d done from day one when the two realised they were the only females in the class.

“The only reason she’s getting married is because he probably knocked her up.” Mike-she was certain now after hearing his name called out on the register-muttered.

This time, she wasn’t going to let him slander her name like that. Those kinds of rumours not only fuelled fire but could potentially cost Michelle her career, and she wasn’t about to have any of it. 

Turning in her seat whilst they waited for the lecturer to start, she scowled at him. 

“Kindly refrain from making assumptions and starting rumours that you can’t back up with facts, O’Riley.” She kept her voice levelled, albeit slightly condescending. He scowled at her in return.

“What, scared that I’m right?” The taunt was a clear bait, determined to show she shouldn't be there. Both her and Jen had suffered from them.

The class had fallen silent at this, and Michelle smirked.

“How about I give you the facts first since you’ve spent the entirety of first year trying to make a point that neither Jennifer or I belong. I’ve known my fiance since we were children. Five years old to be precise. Whilst I’m at school, he works for the garage that his dad owns and will one day take over. He tries his hardest to visit once a month but sometimes he can’t because of obligations to the company means that sometimes the garage comes first.” She could see a few of the guys take on board her words.

Jen was smirking.

“If he were to have knocked me up, the last time I saw him was two and a half months ago. Notice how I haven’t swapped to any kinds of baggy clothing? Had I actually been pregnant, I’d have taken a leave of absence for a week so that I could go home and tell him as well as our families. Getting the picture yet?” His cheeks were burning as she so easily put him in his place.

“You have a go at the two of us, saying we don’t belong because we can’t be doing our studies right, we can’t be learning the same things as men. But if I look objectively at the situation, you’ve repeatedly tried to bait Chelle into an argument and lost every time. Most facts she’s been quite open about, and the others seemed to have put two and two together, but you can’t let go of the fact that she rejected you. So you hound her for anything. I hope that if you actually get into Law School after the undergrad program that you have to face her in the courts, because she’s clearly better than you.” Jennifer had spoken up in defence of her friend, and it had fallen silent before the lecturer began to clap.

Michelle hadn’t even realised that they’d eaten into the class time.

“Miss Morgan is correct, Mr O’Riley. Report to my office after class.” 

Unsurprisingly, O’Riley left her alone, and before Michelle knew it, the end of the year was upon them and she was back home with her family. 

She hadn’t had a chance to really pass the news and had forced Calum, Luke and Michael to stay quiet about it. Ashton knew better than to ruin this surprise for her, even though her family had been waiting for the day to happen ever since he’d asked her father’s permission the day after she’d left.

To say they were excited was understatement of the century. Both of them had winced at the high pitched squeal from her mother and her father was laughing at the scene before him.

They welcomed Ashton into their family when he was a child, but this was a different kind of welcome, one that really made him feel lucky to have the parents he had.

Unlike some of the weddings they’d seen from the club members, Ashton had been adamant. The wedding would be how Michelle wanted it, and if anyone had a problem then they could work at the garage instead. 

Bert had surprisingly backed his son up.

“She’s practically been my daughter since he brought her home with a skinned knee and tear tracks down her face. This is her day just as much as his, and if Ash wants it to be how she wants it, then no one will say a fucking word.” 

The prospects had eyed the father/son duo warily before nodding in acceptance. Ashton had already made it clear to them that they’d be around for security rather than the ceremony. 

They’d watched one of their previous comrades learn the hard way not to insult Michelle Morgan around any of them. The last prospect who did that not only lost his chance to be in the club but also ended up in the hospital with broken arms and a bullet to the knee. 

The warning rang loud and clear for them so they weren’t bothered by the fact they’d been relegated to security.

Despite the endless ribbing that Ashton had received from his best friends, he helped Michelle with ideas for what she wanted. They’d decided to plan and book it for the following summer, to let her get through her second year of university without worrying. 

“I’m going to defer a year after we get married.” Ashton stared at her in shock. She’d told him that the career was important to her, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why she would do that. 

He’d pulled her so that she was straddling his lap, the two of them sat on the sofa at his parents’. They were out for the weekend. He knew his dad was preparing for a patchover and his mom wanted as much time as possible with him without the two of them underfoot.

“And why are you deferring a year, doll?” 

“So that I can steal you away for a year. Our honeymoon is going to be much longer than two weeks.” The grin on her lips was almost predatory, and he felt the corner of his own twitch up in response. 

“Oh is it, Miss Morgan?” Her arms were resting on his shoulders as she leaned forwards, nibbling at the skin of his neck, her hips slowly rocking into his. 

He was struggling to stay focused. 

“A full year of us travelling. Motels, fancy hotels or hostels. Travel America and then maybe fly out and travel Europe. A whole year. I’m sure you wouldn’t be adverse to having sex in every state and then as much of Europe as possible.” Her teeth tugged at his earlobe, and he had her pinned on the couch, the look of shock amusing as his lips met hers.

“What my lady wants, my lady gets.” 

Later when they’d redressed themselves and were looking at various places, Ashton let out a sigh. “You realise that it means I’ll definitely be doing more runs. And maybe a few hits?” 

She squeezed his hand gently. “That’s why pops is planning on offering to pay for half of the trip. He knows what your dad does, they’re best friends. He knows what you do. He also knows that you’d protect me and move heaven and earth if you could. I wasn’t supposed to tell you this, so act surprised when he offers it.” This made him laugh as he kissed her temple.

“Secret is safe with me, doll. So July or August for the wedding date?” 

True to his word, Ashton did act surprised when her dad made the offer, however, he didn’t have to fake his shock at the amount that he was offering.

“That’s, surely that would cover the entire trip?” Ashton barely breathed. Marcus Morgan laughed as he slapped Ashton on the shoulder. 

“Son, I’ve been saving for this ever since she brought you home to us to introduce us to her newest best friend. At first it was small amounts which I was prepared to make her college fund, and then you two got together and her mother told me to start saving properly.” Ashton stared at his soon to be father-in-law, stunned.

He could do nothing but hug Marcus tightly in gratitude, in amazement, in awe. He wasn’t entirely sure. But he loved this man just as much as he loved his own dad.

Marcus understood the unspoken words and held onto Ashton just as tightly, giving him a moment to take in the significance of the offer. 

“You realise that the second Michelle finds out, she’ll flip?” Ashton finally asked as he pulled back, and Marcus laughed loudly.

“Like I’d expect anything else from that girl. She’s her mother’s daughter through and through. I can only count my blessings that she found you early on to temper her impulses.” Ashton tried and failed to hide his smirk as his soon-to-be in-law rolled his eyes before they were drawn into a discussion about the newest modifications he’d made to his bike. 

They still continued to plan, even when Michelle was back at University. Mercifully, after her verbal slapdown of O’Riley, both her and Jen had earned the grudging respect from their classmates. 

That respect was a big help when it came to the appointments for her dress fittings and bridesmaid dresses. If Jen hadn’t been one of her bridesmaids, she knew her friend would’ve handed her any and all the notes she needed for missed classes however, both of them relied on the notes from their classmates and the occasional meeting with their tutors.

It was a much quieter year for both her and Ashton, despite all the appointments and meetings for the venues and vendors. It dawned on them how much work it took to pull off the wedding that they were planning, on top of their respective school work and jobs. 

It was exhausting, but they pulled it off, she’d finished top of the class, with Jen close behind her and the business side for the Irwin’s had been thriving. 

Before she really knew it, she was standing in the foyer of the church, gripping her dad’s arm to stop the butterflies causing havoc through her entire body, let alone her stomach.

“You nervous sweet girl?” Her dad's tone was reassurance of all these new exciting feelings. She let out a small breath of air as she finally let it sink in that it was just Ashton waiting for her.

She was marrying her best friend.

“Excited. I still can’t believe he agreed to let you practically pay for our entire trip.” It had been a constant disagreement until her mother had sat her down and told her why her dad was doing this.

“Call it payback for you actually telling him before I could.” And she felt her jaw drop. She knew that Ashton hadn’t told him, or at least they’d suspected she’d gotten away with her slip up. 

Marcus chuckled as he gently tapped under her chin, her jaw shutting with an audible snap. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She hissed dangerously, and he grinned in return, his eyes suspiciously bright as his hand lifted, the backs of his fingers tracing down her face. She relaxed into the comforting touch almost immediately.

“You’re my child. I’ve raised you and I know you. Ashton is also mine, even though your mother didn’t bring him into the world. The two of you grew up with your mom and I as well as his parents. You might be able to fool the world sweetheart, but you can never fool your parents.”

It was another sigh before she let out a snort of laughter.

“Figures.” The key changed in the music, and the butterflies were back with reckless abandon. 

“Time to get the show on the road, sweet girl. I love you and I’m proud of you.” His lips touched her forehead, and it was almost like magic that her entire body relaxed. The butterflies finally settled as they began the walk down to her future husband.

-

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[far-off-flower-fields]

Weird Questions that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups!

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Lollipops

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Cotton candy

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you? We call elementary school primary school. It depended which teachers you asked, my favourites always said I was “conscientious, kind, and a pleasure to have in class”.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Glass cups or bottles.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? I have like 4 looks, pastel, boho, and goth/witchy/grunge, also vintage-inspired which wasn’t mentioned but I love it.

7. earbuds or headphones? Depends on the shape, I love my Razr headset because it doesn’t squash my ears, and I like galaxy bud shaped earbuds, the ones with the little rubber doo-dads that fit actually in your ear. Apple or a lot of older flat earbuds cause me a lot of pain.

8. movies or tv shows? TV shows. Movies are getting longer and longer and my focus is getting shorter and shorter

9. favorite smell in the summer? Rainy days!

10. game you were best at in p.e.? The game of queue-ducking (where you go to the back of the queue to avoid your turn), or dance, or the less strength intensive parts of gymnastics. Or crying, always been great at that xD

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? Muesli, or nothing.

12. name of your favorite playlist? I prefer to listen to full albums rather than playlists, but I have a few favourites on Spotify. Born to Run 150BPM, Infinite Indie Folk, Irish Folk: Jigs and Reels, All Out 80s/90s/00s. I also love scene/pop-punk playlists.

13. lanyard or key ring? Key Ring

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? Message Hearts (or anything with that texture), the red pack of starbursts (the UK version is vegan). Does Turkish Delight count because if so then that is my fave. I also like gummies if they’re vegan.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? To Kill a Mockingbird (high school), or The Bloody Chamber (uni), or Hamlet (uni)

16. most comfortable position to sit in? One foot under me, the other foot out to the other side, but both in the same position (if the surface is flat), or knees up.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? I own a lot of shoes so there isn’t really a single pair I wear the most. Recently my Air Force 1s, I’m trying to wear them in because the previous owner didn’t so the cause blisters.

18. ideal weather? Cold, overcast, rainy, still. Or without the rain. or snow (as long as I’m not going in the car and I can go crunch my shoes in it xD

19. sleeping position? Either side, but my body is kinda rotated towards the bed so it’s like half way between on my stomach and on my side. 

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? Notebooks

21. obsession from childhood? Animals, dinosaurs, goddesses, magic, crystals, neopets, sims. I still love all of these things, I am a rotating door of obsessions, usually a bunch of the same obsessions on repeat.

22. role model? I don’t have one particular role model, I do have tons of people that I love and respect.

23. strange habits? I have so many strange habits that I have become one myself. Nothing actually stands out though because 99% of it is because of my brain.

24. favorite crystal? rose quartz or moonstone.

25. first song you remember hearing? Maybe Dancing Queen by ABBA, definitely the first I remember dancing to, but my dad loves music so I grew up with a constant stream of it.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? Suffer xD when I’m able to do so comfortably I’d love to go out looking for pretty stones, and nice sticks with my fiance, also would like to go on picnics with him, or a friend if I had one.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? Baking, drawing, crafts, standing in the rain. Everything.

28. five songs to describe you? 6/10 - Dodie Robert Frost - Mal Blum Caught in the Middle - Paramore Side Effects - Jade Bird Snitches Get Stitches - Onsind  Bonus track: The Seed - Aurora I wish I still had the playlist I made of songs I relate to, several of these were on it though.

29. best way to bond with you? Oversharing, or telling me about things you’re into.

30. places that you find sacred? Nature. My favourite spots are little creeks/rivers in wooded areas, but just like, all of it is special and should be treated as such. Also bedrooms.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? I think maybe I’m not gutsy or whatever enough, but also unpredictable. I wear whatever I like, and I’m just as likely to cry in all of them as I am to accidentally get in a fight.

32. top favorite vines? I feel so basic because I never really did the vine thing.  There was one that nearly killed me because I literally started to choke that was in some kind of office and the bit like can you run this past me again, and they just fucking legged it past them holding a folder up, Saw it once, never saw it again. Road work ahead. Why you can’t lift a house (might be a tok?) Brass dad and oven kid Look at this graaaaph Never learned how to read I can’t sit I have hemorrhoids The one with the people in blankets bobbing the nana nanana song Fr esh avo ca do Look at all these chickens

33. most used phrase in your phone? I love you - if I had to guess

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? right now, nothing. I often get the old Super Liquor jingle lodged in there though.

35. average time you fall asleep? 6am?

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? Charlie the unicorn or that one Noodles video by Cyanide and Happiness. Are those even memes?

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Depends. I mostly use a bag though since I never go anywhere for long.

38. lemonade or tea? Tea? Usually if you ask for lemonade here you get Sprite which is not lemonade.

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? I had a vegan lemon meringue pie once, so good. Cake is easier to make though, and I can eat more in one sitting without getting sick xD

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? Um, the principal in my last year of school got caught for being a peeping tom a few years after I left.

41. last person you texted? My Fiance.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket pockets

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? Depends on the rest of the outfit and the weather. I wear Jean jackets most though.

44. favorite scent for soap? I love lavender, or vanilla/candy/fruity/baked goods type scents. I still have a bottle of Sugar Fairy spray from lush from a year ago and I love the smell of that.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Fantasy I think.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Nekkid?

47. favorite type of cheese? As a kid it was feta. Now I only eat vegan cheese. I was never a huge cheese fan tbh.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? Rotten xD um probably a cranberry or something because I’m small, and I’m not a fan of cranberry.

49. what saying or quote do you live by? An it harm none do what you will. Or treat others as you wish to be treated.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? Probably one of the vines I listed above, either “run it past” or “can’t lift a house” because both of those resulted in crying and choking.

51. current stresses? My cat has been throwing up and having diarrhoea the past week or so, she’s been to the vet, it got better for a bit, but tonight suddenly got worse. Living with my parents who I have a very toxic relationship with. Living in a single very overfilled room. Trying to not spend money so that I can save up to move next year. Nightmares about my trauma. Either the house is haunted or there’s a build up of negative energy (probably that).

52. favorite font? I always liked the look of all of the script style fonts (freestyle, french, lucida, lucida calligraphy, Edwardian, Palace) but they’re not accessible so for anything people will actually see (which is literally nothing) I always go with arial.

53. what is the current state of your hands? Slight rash on one finger because I’m sensitive to what is in a lot of hand washing products apparently (never an issue until the pandemic), one broken finger nail that is a bit shorter than the rest. Not painted nails because energy. I always wear my engagement ring, usually I wear several other rings but with how my skin is being I thought I’d better not for a while.

54. what did you learn from your first job? Bakeries are hell, my circadian rhythm will not adjust to anything besides its natural state for longer than a couple of days at a time no matter how long or hard I try. I can absolutely fall asleep standing up.

55. favorite fairy tale? Ugly Duckling

56. favorite tradition? I don’t have anyway... Yet? Hopefully when I move this can become a thing.

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? I’m interpretting overcome loosely here, meaning “I have not died from this” - Suicide of my first love - Bullying - 3 different jobs that all nearly killed me

58. four talents you’re proud of having? Literally can’t think of one. I’m not talented. I’m passable at a couple of things, but I worked for those things and I’m still not good enough for anyone to confuse me for being talented xD Those things I care about that I’ve worked on a lot are singing, art, languages, crafts? I still struggled to come up with 4. My bad.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? Aw jeez xD

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? Magical Girl! This is an easy one, give me the powers and the clothes yessss.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? Literally sitting here drawing a blank, so instead of favourite here is the first one that came into my head “eyes are the genitals of the head” (may have that wrong, I’m watching the Office for the first time rn)

62. seven characters you relate to? Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind Amelie from Amelie Matilda from Matilda Quasimodo from the Hunchback of Notredame (also my favourite plush as a kid) Iris - The Holiday Jess - New Girl Amelia Shepherd - Grey’s Anatomy Struggled with this because suddenly I drew a blank and also couldn’t remember who my Fiance was talking about every time he’s watched a character and said “that’s you” repeatedly.

63. five songs that would play in your club? Starlight - Superman Lovers Pump It - Black Eyed Peas I Bet that You Look Good on the Dancefloor - Arctic Monkeys All the Things She Said - tATu Doctor Jones - Aqua Bonus: Push Up - Freestylers These are ones  I have memories of dancing to when I was younger so that’s how I picked, but I’d absolutely be a themed night club with different music on different nights.

64. favorite website from your childhood? Neopets, which I still play daily. The first I played was MaMaMedia, then Bubblegum Club.

65. any permanent scars? That’s a SORE subject heh get it heh

66. favorite flower(s)? Lavender, rose, peony

67. good luck charms? I usually carry gemstones if I’m needing to be particularly lucky, or sigils.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? I hate anything spicy. I had rootbeer candy that tasted like literal dirt. I can’t eat banana stuff without gagging and getting a headache. I hate anything that is artificial blackberry or blackcurrant, tastes like shitty cough syrup.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? Sea Monkeys breathe through their feet, but I remember where I learned that.

70. left or right handed? right

71. least favorite pattern? depends entirely on the colours, I like patterns. but certain stripes do make my eyes feel funny.

72. worst subject? If PE counts, then that. If not, math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo? I love pineapple on pizza but that’s not weird. Iused to eat cheese and jam sandwiches as a kid though.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? I operate on how long it has lasted instead of how bad it is, essentially I get so desperate so I’ll try it even though it probably won’t help. I have the resistance of a rhino to most meds.

75. when did you lose your first tooth? No idea, like 4 I think? I did keep them in a weird little box for no reason though because they never got taken away from under my pillow.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? I’m a fan of a good mash if it has lots of flavour (like gravy). Otherwise, crisps or fries.

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? I grew a radish once! Something cat safe though these days, also maybe something heavy, and hard to knock over?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Grocery Store sushi, if it’s just veg.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? My only ID is my passport, and it is BAD.

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Both.

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? Fireflies (ten million of them to be precise)

82. pc or console? Grew up with PC. Now play my switch mostly.

83. writing or drawing? Both. Wrote more as a kid, draw more now.

84. podcasts or talk radio? Podcasts.

84. barbie or polly pocket? Both. But I prefered pollies as a kid

85. fairy tales or mythology? mythology

86. cookies or cupcakes? cupcakes

87. your greatest fear? Based on my nightmares, stairs.

88. your greatest wish? To live in a comfy house, in the country, with my Fiance, I have travelled the world, we have pets, I can function, we are free.

89. who would you put before everyone else? My Fiance and out animals.

90. luckiest mistake? Can’t think of any, most of my mistakes have been more like bad choices, also never turned out well for me.

91. boxes or bags? Depends what it’s for?

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? lamps, or fairy lights. Unless I’m particularly anxious, then overheads.

93. nicknames? None.

94. favorite season? Winter

95. favorite app on your phone? LINE, it has my fiance, and animated stickers.

96. desktop background? Little Twin Stars

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? My own.

I never get asks and needed to distract myself so I’m going to just answer these anyway, like a survey or something. Original post by tr33-g1rl 

[indulgnces]

hi howdy hello!! i go by jess and this is my first time playing my sweet bb girl, so i’m pumped! more about my girl audrey below the cut!

❛  ( SARAH JEFFERY )  ◈  dude, shut up ! AUDREY ROSE from DESCENDANTS is on screen. their fans swear they’re just DETERMINED & OUTGOING, but we’ve all seen their JEALOUS & STUBBORN side ! according to TRUMAN WIKIA, they’re TWENTY-ONE years old, BISEXUAL, & identify as CISFEMALE ( SHE/HER ). they’re currently a STUDENT & are RELIEVED about life in truman. luckily they have HER DIARY & HER SONGBIRD NECKLACE with them & can visit THE FAIRY COTTAGE whenever they want. penned by JESS.

sooooooooo confession: i’ve never watched a descendants movie from start to finish 😬 I know! crazy considering I’m playing a character from the movies, but like, have you guys ever seen a character and just be like wOW, that is My Type of character? cause that’s what happened with audrey. descendants 3 came out and was trending, and I checked the tag and like was 👀👀👀 to audrey to the point that I watched queen of mean and got HOOKED. caught a replay of the movie and watched all the audrey parts while skipping over the rest. since then I’ve been in love with my girl and she’s been on my mind so much that I’m returning to rp after a small break to play my girl. In preparation I skimmed through descendants 1 & 3, and adurey’s youtube short story so I’m good to GO. 

CANON LIFE

“A lifetime of plans, gone. Our family status, gone. Audrey, you were supposed to be his Queen, and you let him slip through your fingers. Your mother could hold onto a prince in her sleep.” 

daughter of sleeping beauty and prince phillip, princess audrey has been groomed since she was a child by her grandmother to become the queen of auradon. she’d been friends with prince ben since she was a child, and was expected to marry him when she got older.

grew up used to the finer things of life, and as such, audrey was a bit self-absorbed and spoiled. became the most popular girl in school due to her status and beauty. was cheer captain. finally became romantically involved with ben at some point in high school. life was going exactly as planned. 

then ben decided to invite 4 villain kids (vks) from the isle of the lost to auradon, and everything went to shit. the stark black and white, good vs. evil mentality was deeply ingrained in audrey’s psyche, so she was very much AGAINST the idea of any isle kids coming over. convinced the vks were up to no good, she never warmed up to the them, and bullied them (mostly mal) at times. and you know what? she was RIGHT

mal used a love potion to steal her boyfriend, who then humiliated audrey by serenading mal during a tourney match, where audrey was cheering at. no one gave two shits though?? or suspected foul play at all?? they just cheered and were like “ah, cool! our soon-to-be-king has suddenly declared his love for this new vk who’s only been here for a few days! how awesome and totally natural !! “

audrey was still plenty popular by the end of the movie, but her fairy godmothers decided to treat adurey to a spa trip, which turned into an extended trip that required her needing summer school bc she missed so much school (aka why she was absent for descendants 2)

by the time audrey came back in descendants 3, everyone was ALL up mal’s ass crack. ben proposed to mal in front of everyone, serenading her with the SAME song he did in the first movie when he ceremoniously proclaimed his love for mal while simultaneously dumping audrey, and everyone cheered AGAIN for their union. damn thing broke audrey’s whole ass heart. on top of that, her grandmother chastised audrey for her failures in securing ben and basically failing the family. 

she also lost her status come d3??? like, at the end of d1, she was still cool as fuck. but come d3 girl is not even being invited to her friend’s birthday parties anymore?? she has no friends?? no one gives two shits about how she must be dealing with everything? and wow does that not help things at all.

that night, in her loneliness and anger, audrey decided to steal the queen’s crown from the artifacts museum. it was a petty thing. she was hurt, and just did NOT want to see the crown she’d envisioned as her own for all her life be placed on mal’s head. she didn’t have a goal beyond taking the crown. however, when she went to the museum, maleficent’s scepter sensed audrey’s emotions and desires for revenge, and revealed itself to her. it’s glow lured audrey to it, fed into her emotions, and bing bang boom, audrey became the ultra fabulous QUEEN OF MEAN 

under the scepter's influence, she put half of auradon under a sleeping spell, the other half she turned to stone, then she made ben a beast after he rejected her, and made mal an ugly old hag. she was foiled at the end by mal, and ended up falling under a sleeping curse as a result. with no True Love’s Kiss to awaken her (rip), the heroes ended up getting Hades to use his magic to wake her up.

at the end, she apologizes for her crimes & her emotions were finally acknowledged when mal and ben stepped up and apologized for their inconsiderate past actions to audrey (wELL, they never actually apologize?? they say ‘I owe you an apology” but both don’t like actually say sorry, and that’s 100% something audrey has noticed for sure). she celebrates at the end with everyone else when the barrier is brought down and is last seen dancing with harry hook 

POST CANON

totally headcanon that she’s still not 100% happy as she’s shown in the end while dancing around okay

she’s STILL lonely!! she STILL wants those apologies!! she’s STILL lost about what to do with her future now that her whole life plan has blown up in smokes. she’s HURT okay. her friends? abandoned her! ben? abandoned her! that one hurts the most bc after spotting that pic of audrey/ben as children together, I 100% hc that they have been best buds for years before falling into a relationship. and while it’s clear ben was not really ~in love~ with audrey ( i image they ended up getting together bc it was just Expected yknow?), audrey still had feelings for ben. even if it wasn’t true love (she def wasn’t In Love tho she thought she was), she did still love ben. he was her best friend, and the fact that he never came around to apologize to her for humiliating her the way he did after the love spell broke HURT. 

also hc that she had to take a remedial goodness class following her stunt 

the ending given to her is life a brief showing of her and harry hook smiling at each other all soft like before dancing, which like, i’m game for, but in terms of her actual future, audrey was trying to figure out just how to do life moving forward following everything

TRUMAN

“Tell me it was all a bad dream.”

yeah so I said audrey was relieved about her life in truman? 100000% true!

her life was incredibly sad and lonely before, so convincing her that all that shit was all just a bad dream was an incredibly easy thing to do for the descendants actors okay (im sad for her bc of this tbh)

her life as she knows it: she still comes from a family of high status and money. not technically a princess, but she sure does act like one. believes she was born and raised in truman, but was sent to boarding school at auradon prep since she was a child, where she thrived and grew into a typical Popular Girl (head of cheer team/one of the most beautiful girls), before returning to truman after graduating. basically she believes she had the same perfect life she had before in canon, minus the vks, ben, and the whole fairy tale/royalty stuff (basically everything that ruined that perfect life).

all that other extra stuff, including going all queen of mean and losing ben and being drop kicked by literally everyone, is just POOF, fuzzy memories, bad vivid horror story nightmares! every now and then she’ll witness an engagement, or spot a serenade, and it’ll trigger an overwhelming sense of sadness, but for the most part, she’s content putting her life behind her. her new life is a much happier one. that could totally change once she starts encountering people from her past life again.

only really recognizes her family members as family members, and maybe recognizes some past auradon friends (maybe chad charming as her ex since he’s the only one who didn’t totally abandon her rip)

since “returning” to truman, she’s entered university on the island. she wasn’t sure where she was going with life, but she knew she’s always been really good at drawing and really good at event planning. so in uni, she decided to keep her artistic talents as a hobby and pursue a career in event planning. in pursuit of this, she’s a senior at college, majoring in hospitality management.

PERSONALITY

positive: determined, headstrong, outgoing, self-assured, polite, moral, dedicated 

negative: jealous, stubborn, demanding, bossy, petty, close-minded, seemingly mean (tho she doesn’t consider herself mean, okay? she just can come off as mean/rude)

CANON CONNECTIONS

ben & mal: need them both bc they are the ones who hurt her the most so i’d loooooove to play out these dynamics in truman!! they’d be the most Triggering faces for her 

jay & harry & chad & uma: underrated audrey ships i’d love to play out bc literally crumbs are given to the majority of these dynamics, and so I want to just...explore them?? three of these 4 are vks and 2 of those 3 are people audrey actively pursued in some sort of ~connection~ at the end of the movies when the Couples got together, and she did that even tho she is very Moral and has confusing feelings about vks, and i just wanna know more!! 

TRUMAN CONNECTIONS

yeah this is getting long, so I’m planning on posting a whole separate post in the truman plot tag for these wanted connections! 

and yeah! that’s everything on my girl! if you’ve made it this far, you’re the best my dudes!! I’m gonna be on mobile for a good portion of the day before coming on at night, but if you’d like to do any kind of plotting with my girl, just go ahead and hit that like button, and I’ll slide in y’alls dms! ♥

[slothgiirl]

Y/N and Harry are best friends

“Hey you,” you call out, arms outstretched towards your best friend, Harry, “long time no see!” It was ironic, you'd graduated uni and moved to london just as Harry went on his world tour.

He smiles widely, enveloping you in his arms, smelling of musk and dark florals and something warm that you couldn't name but always associated it with Harry. “Miss me much babe,” his eyes sparkling as he teased you easily, all these months meant nothing now that you were together again.

“You have no clue,” You answered honestly, “I had no one to bother late at night or eat my terrible bread creations.”

“It's a recipe,” he says with a shake of his head, swinging you both slightly, “I don't know how you can mess it up!”

“Whatever mr I can't park,” you snap back.

“At least I can drive.”

You both burst out laughing and he lets you go briefly before taking your arm in his, and leading you into the restaurant, both of you pretending not to notice the far off paps in the corner of the street. It came with the territory and the mad obsession the media has with your friend.

It was monday afternoon and you'd been looking to this for days when he told you he was flying back from japan, which sounded like a dream. You'd never been further than Scotland.

“Cebu is always so freaking good,” you tell him, taking a sip from your vodka cranberry, “but tell me more about japan! It looks so cool! I'd love to visit the Aniu or sleep in one of those cube hotels.”

Harry laughs, drinking from his own beer, “It was cool. I mean I sent you all those pics didn't I! It was good to get some downtime after the past year.”

“At least you make friends easily,” you say, scrunching your nose, “my first term at uni was so lonely, I don't know what I'd have done if I'd never met Julia.”

“You just have to talk to people I mean you wouldn't love you! I spilled coffee on you and you didn't completely hate me. That's best friend material.”

“Think that says more about you than it says about me,” you laugh. “Still Japan is much cooler that spending the workweek in a lab.” It had been cool at first, but the novelty of being out of school and getting paid and not having exams had worn off by now.

“You get to do crazy wacky science,” he teases, “how long until you’re an x man!”

“I'd rather be spider-man,” you tell him without missing a beat, “when the rami movies came out I spent a good few months looking for spiders in the garden to bite me.” It had been so dumb in retrospect but you'd always hoped one day you'd wake up with superpowers.

Harry roars with laughter, “how'd you get into Oxford again?”

“Don't be an ass,” you reply, “we can't all being amazingly talented singers.”

“You forgot the wildly attractive part,” he says with a smirk, leaning close to you.

Unable to help yourself, you snort, “there goes your giant head again!”

“Hey,” he protests, looking the very picture of offended. If you didn't know him any better, you'd think you'd gone too far. But there's a hint of smile pulling at the corner of his lips and you just laugh.

“My most sincerest apologies,” you respond a girl to match his on your own face. Harry has a way of just making you so freaking happy no matter what else is going on. There's never been a time in your friendship when talking to him hadn't made you feel better.  “maybe bangs?”

He brings a hand up to his chest, mock offense written into his expressive features before his face lights up with glee. You know you're in for it now. “Oh where oh where has my baby gone,” he sings just loud enough to for you alone to hear.

“Stop,” you protest, flushing red and laughing, tears welling up in your eyes. You teared up easily when laughing. “Please the puppies are begging you to stop!”

Harry laughs, his gaze completely focused on you, “did you finish the art project you were working on then?”  

Despite him being the only person you trusted with your super secret art projects, you still felt yourself blush, hand coming up to brush stray hairs back behind your ear, “the initial photography, but I’m still working through the editing. The ones I've finished are coming out almost the way I pictured them.”

“Almost?”

“Well things are never exactly how you imagine them are they,” you note, “or maybe I'm just overthinking things and have been working on them for too long.”

“You probably just need a pair of fresh eyes,” Harry says as they bring out your food. Their eggs in tomatoes looked deceptively simple and yet yours were never as good.

“Smooth,” you utter, grinning at him. “Do you hit up everyone's DMs like that?”

Harry shakes his head, “no but really baby, can I see what you have so far?” His lips are drawn earnestly.

You nod, “sure, we can make a movie night out of it too. I've been dying to try out this no bake chocolate cream pie.”

“Only if I get to pick the movie?”

“Deal.”

*

You slump on the cheap ikea couch you and your roommates had pooled cash together to buy once you get home, bag full of snacks.  

“Tired,” Julia asks from the kitchen, shamelessly eating straight out of the pan.

“Yeah,” you tell her, “Arjun called in sick and since I'm the newest hires I got the short end of the stick and pulled a double shift.”

“Isn't work amazing,” Julia replies, bring the pan and an extra fork for you, settling down next to you. “My boss called me this morning at 6am and had me call a bunch of places in India to find some extra fabric for a client. I wasn't due til 9!”

“What an outrage,” I deadpan.

“Maybe we can still be witches in the midlands,” she offers, “or raise cows in the highlands.”

“God that's such a mood,” you sigh, taking the fork and eating her cheesy pasta dish. “I thought working in a lab would be nice and easy compared to school and it is but dealing with my boss and the hectic hours has left me with no social life.”

“Right! I've missed so many parties and good djs because I'm on call talking to far off places sourcing textiles! I just hope I get promoted so I can go on trip to source and not just spend all hours of the day being an errand girl.”

You nod, mouthful of pasta, “I heard hospital labs are pretty good but I've been told I need more experience.”

She laughs bitterly before gazing at your loot of snacks, “Harry coming over?”

“Yeah,” you reply, “we’re watching a movie and pigging out after a long ass week.” You has been looking forward to it all day despite how drained you were; to the bone, to the point coffee wasn't much help.

Opening snapchat you see harry's sent you a couple photos.

Him in a ruffled white shirt, loosely buttoned, caption reading in the mood for a period romance? ;))

The next was of him in a tastefully ripped shirt that probably cost more than your rent, and a worn flannel, or a rom com?

The there was Harry wearing an old dark knight shirt you'd gotten him for his birthday at a charity shop, or will we go full superhero landing!?!

Rolling your eyes and smiling your reply with a blurry selfy, the most dramatic frog to ever prince.

“God I can't wait til we're all sixty and you've both been married and divorced and finally get together,” she says teasingly, “or worse it's like you're both gotten together and your s.o’s are the third and fourth wheel!”

“Shut up,” you tell her, “we're literally the same. You spent most of fresher in my dorm once we met. You made me help shave your back.”

“That's friendship bitch,” Julia says with a laugh, “just keep in mind Imma be like dead to the world.”

“Wow,” you state, “you've come such a long way from being a complete party animal.”

“Right,” she mutters, “I miss drinking and showing up hungover to class.”

“It's all downhill from here,” you tease.

She swats your fork away from the pot, “what a depressing thought.”

*

Harry texts you to let you know he's here and you buzz him up, hugging him before saying, “i might have to steal this sweater from you.” It ridiculously soft the way only old sweaters are.

He laughs, “I brought a bottle of rose.”

“ooh let me try this knife trick i've been practicing,” you tell him as he kicks off his boots and settles in.

“Don't want to die today but thanks.”

“Harold,” you respond mock affronted. “So what movie have you chosen for us today art hoe?”

“You're the one who can quote the cool girl monologue by heart,” he retorts, grabbing the wine opener and starting on the cork. Unlike you, he managed it without cursing for half an hour and deciding boxed wine wasn't a bad idea.

“The movie harry,” you say, grabbing a couple of blankets and pillows for the couch along with your art journal.

“Searching,” he answers, “Sarah said it was really good and slept on.”

“And even if it's not there's always chips and hummus.”

“Very true,” Harry responds, pouring wine into mugs like a maniac and settling down next to you on the couch, his own worn journal in hand. “But it's Sarah and Mitch they have great taste in pretty much everything.”

“High praise coming from you,” you note palming through your journal, over the drawing and words you'd written down over the last few months.

He grins, looking perfectly at home in your modest flat. Harry has never been weird about being famous and rich and- it made it that much easier to be friends with him. To forget about all that and just be friends with Harry, not Harry styles. “It is ain't it,” he utters lips curled into a sinners smile, the kind he gave girls and boys when you went out to clubs.

“There goes your big head again,” you retort, putting your journal down and curling up with a handful of popcorn.

“Oi!” Harry furrows his brow staring you down for a second before launching himself at you, pinning you down and tickling your sides, “take it back!”

“Never,” you yelp, giggling madly, Your arms against his chest as you push him off easily. It's so easy to be comfortable with him, he's just such a hugger and you can't say you don't like it, the warmth and security you feel.

He laughs, “so long as you let me see your journal baby,” is his only response, chest still shaking from laughter.

“I'll show you mine if you show me yours,” you respond jokingly. The sense of humor middle schoolers had still there in your head.

“Deal,” he replies, shifting so his head is resting in your lap, passing you his own journal before grabbing yours off the coffee table. You'd never felt as grown up as you did when buying a coffee table, even more so than buying pans and dishes instead of eating everything out of a mug.

Mindlessly, your fingers run through his hair, soft and silky and starting to curl up behind his ears. You wonder if he'll let it grow out again. You prefer him like this but it was fun to braid his strands of hair.

His journal is more full of words than drawings, in his sloppy scrawl, like in old letters. Leather bound parchment, it's tons nicer than your own moleskine you'd gotten on sale, with the true victorian era feel you'd been obsessed with in your younger years.

There's a dreamy quality to the writing, fragmented thoughts that he trusts you with.

The tv plays quietly in the background, you’re too immersed to say anything, to break the comfortable silence with any words, occasionally reaching for a chip, smothering it in hummus.

In the beginning, when Harry had first crashed at your small cramped flat at uni, he'd drunkenly looked through your journal, well one of your journals, covered in all your loose thoughts and many many drawings and sketches, ideas for pieces that you'd spend what little free time you had doing.

You'd gotten annoyed and a little mad, because your journal was private and personal and who did you think you were? Frida Kahlo? It wasn't like he'd meant to, drunk and a little high. It wasn't one of your best moments but he'd bought you a cuppa tea the next morning before you'd woken up and let you flip through his own journal, just to make it up to you.

That's how he'd become the person you trusted to show your art to.

“Don't laugh at my sad attempts at poetry,” he mutters, his gaze meeting yours somewhat self consciously. His cheeks are flushed red but you can't tell if it's from laughing or because he's actually embarrassed.

“Trying to be just like Bukowski,” you tease. You'd never actually read anything by him, you just read about him being kind of an asshole in real life.

He rolls his eyes at you, “ever since you sent me that song I can't think about him the same!”

“I just thought you'd want to know. That song is such a depression mood though.”

Harry grows serious, looking up at you. Your hand stills in his hair. “Are you alright?”

You nod, “yeah I'm fine I was just joking.” It's true. You haven't felt depressed in months, haven't been bad in longer. Progress.

“You'd tell me if-”

“Oh course,” you cut him off with a smile, closing his journal. “Want to see how my latest and greatest projects progressing?”

He smiles softly, “why else do you think I'm here for?”

You smack him lightly with his own journal, getting up and getting your laptop. This latest idea of yours has come at the cost of having to learn to use digital editing. Thank god for youtube.

Harry sits up and watches as your scroll through some of the more finished pictures of both women and men you'd reached out to, dragging Julia with you to feel braver about approaching strangers. Something you wouldn't have done a year ago.  

Their pictures have been edited to exaggerate their insecurity, ranging from overly larger noses to small eyes and thin lips. It had been an idea since you'd read about Jacqueline de Ribes who someone had said how sad it was if you didn't have a great big nose like she had.

“Especially in this era of face tuning and filters and contouring where everyone is trying to hide what they feel insecure about,” you tell him, watching the shift of his lips, his pensive gaze, trying to gage his reaction. No one but you has seen these. Although when you’re done they'll also be sent to your models, who'd been nice enough to open up about their insecurities to you. Maybe it was easier to talk to strangers you'd never see again about these things. Wasn't that the whole idea behind therapy?

“At first I only edited it slightly but I didn't think the idea came across as strongly and in your face. I mean maybe by airing out and owning our insecurities we can overcome them? Or maybe just stop idealizing one specific type of feature?” These were the questions that you thought would be answered by doing this, but there didn't seem to be any easy answers.

“I like them,” he tells you, “It's like things you wouldn't have noticed I mean most people are alright looking and then you actually get to know them and it all warps how you see people. Like gee doesn't Tom look like such an bloody asshole.”

You snort, shaking your head, “you had me in the first half I'm not going to lie.”

After that you both mess about, putting on parks and recs for the hundredth time, skipping to the second season when Ben and Chris come in. It's still as funny as the first time you had watched it.

It's late and your both half asleep on the couch and smiling at the tv, legs bumping against Harry's much longer legs.

“I should probably go,” he mutters.

“No stay,” you tell him, “it's late and you can just crash with me.” You’d both slept in the same bed lots of times by now, the initial awkwardness long gone as you stopped to you underwear and an old t shirt that was long enough to pass for a dress.  

“Should I be worried about your alarm?”

“I can actually wake up even if my alarms just on vibrate,” you let him know, because god you wish you didn't have work tomorrow so you could wake up late and go get overly expensive breakfast at the dinner down the street who made the fluffiest american style pancakes. It was a treat you loved to get yourself.

Harry helps you drag some of the blankets into your room, tossing them onto the bed. You curl up next to the wall, nestling into the covers. From the corner of your eye you watch Harry pull his shirt off before kicking off his jeans, ripped at the knees.

He's fit and you can't help but mentally trace over the butterfly he has tattooed that you thought stupid at first but had grown on you.  Gracelessly he flops onto the bed, sliding under the covers.

“Your feet are always freezing,” he complains which just makes you kick him lightly. “Ow! Woman!”

“Shut up and sleep,” you tell him turning over on your side, curling into near fetal position.

“But what about going on my phone for an hour in bed?”

“Good night harold,” you say in lieu of an actual reply.

“I won't let the bed bugs bite you.”

“Your so dumb,” you whisper fondly, closing your eyes and easily falling asleep after a long day.

[keyes-tothecrown]

Posado Colonial Hotel Room 202 San Juan, Puerto Rico October 1, 2020

A tangle of unknown curses first. And then. ‘‘This is messed up.’’ The end of a cigarette fizzled as Aubrey dropped it into a glass half-filled with water. An agitated sigh. The window was closed after her last exhale of smoke. A curtain dragged hastily closed.

Maddox squinted in judgment at the woman and then looked down at the sketchpad paper with torn broken loops at the top he held in both hands. “That is some fucked up harsh criticism for a seven year old’s drawing skills. I can tell it’s a shark.” At the San Juan airport Maddox had picked up a small art set with paper. Ebony pencils. All the colors of the rainbow, and more, in  fine pointed ink. Scented thick markers. A sharpener. All packed in a pink glitter-encrusted case. Luna asked how to draw a star too. Along the edge of the paper Maddox’s instruction and a child’s follow through appeared in alternating gold and green ink. “I like it, when I get home I’m going to--”

The glass Aubrey held was slammed down on a hotel room desk. Water and ash splattered on the stationary, the location embossed in navy blue. “No, this! This situation!” Exasperation flung her arms wide before they dropped, hands smacking the sides of her thighs. She charged forward muttering a curse in Spanish that grew louder over a few steps forward. Her hands flew up again to aim an angry shove at Maddox’s chest. “After all these years of neglecting us, you can’t walk in here and tell me what to do.” More cursing powered by a fire in eyes he remembered at their softest. Crazy, motherfucker, piece of shit. Plenty of words in Spanish he recalled hearing directed at him in the past. 

The drawing was placed beside the glass with a calm determination that didn’t last long. “I didn’t ask to find my father. It’s the last thing I wanted, but it’s done. Yeah, you’re right. It’s a mess.” Staring down at a woman a good foot shorter than him, he paused and ran a hand through his hair, finally lowering the boom in his voice that had grown. “You’re the one who blew up Rosario’s phone looking for me. As soon as you found out who I was with, and how much money they have. So I can only assume you want something. But i’m willing to negotiate. To be responsible here.” 

To be a father. Finally. “It’s called a fucking life, Aubrey. It’s all unexpected. Honestly, there are worse things. The king of Portugal has no grandchildren. He wants to meet Luna. She could have what we didn’t growing up. Go to a good school, to uni, the whole--” 

She interrupted. Again. “I left to get away from the bullshit. Pirates, royals, I wanted nothing to do with it! Now you show up years later and want to be a father? You tell me we are... are... I am supposed to uproot my daughter from everything she has ever known because a king says so?Live under armed guards? Like we are being punished because of who you decided to be?” 

Aubrey fell back on her native language. Maddox began to argue the points she twisted well out of proportion until she brushed by him without warning. He watched his ex kneel in front of a little girl with colored ink splotches on a cheek, her hands, an elbow. Aubrey whispered to Luna and kissed her forehead, coaxing wild waves of dark hair back into place. 

-- 

They were thrown together on a boat in the ocean. Their language was the same. Sarcasm, sex, a love of the same music. She was beautiful with a pouty snarl smothering any emotion threatening to rise to the surface. Rarely did she break. Same for Maddox. At the time it all made sense.

They had never really loved each other. More like a deep, secure trust developed between two lost pirates surviving in the shipwreck of Roman Tierney’s design. 

A shot of pitorro shared in a hotel room sealed an agreement. Legal documents couldn’t be tied back to Maddox for obvious reasons. “At the first of every month the money will be deposited into your account. I see a story sold by a tabloid and our deal is over.” Now he had a grand piano and seven years of back child support to pay off. Fantastic. A refill of the shot glasses was needed. “I would like Luna to visit me. After Christmas. A week, or two. What works best and isn’t a disruption. We can start gradually.” Speaking of... “If you decide you would like protection I will arrange it. I’m sorry.” He was. “For the inconvenience.” 

“You have always been an inconvenience in my life, Maddox Keyes.” The words empty of a sentimental pull as Aubrey downed the second shot and looked away. Maddox could see her reflection in the mirror on the opposite end of the room. If they could’ve been those people in the reflection it might have all been different. 

--

“When are you coming back?” 

Aubrey had coached the child, Maddox thought. He sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure, but I’d like you to visit me next time. Actually, uhm.” Maddox unlocked his phone and began flipping through photos as Luna scooted up beside him, crossing her legs and squeezing the life out of a stuffie, peering over his arm. 

“This is my house. And this is Hilde. She would love to meet you.” Hilde probably wouldn’t. She might be snippy with children. A bridge to cross. Hilde was there first, after all. “This is Aaron. He’s my boyfriend and would also like to meet you. He’s very nice. You will love him. He has a horse.”

Luna reached to turn the phone towards her with shadeless brown eyes fixed on the photo. A voice pitched high, the tone rosy and sweet. “My abuela says you are going to hell because you live with a man.” 

Ah, of course. Aubrey’s mother already decided he was going to hell way back when. A tight smile. Fun conversations ahead, Maddox could tell. A comment about children going to hell for staying up late was nixed. 

He had a daughter now. In the same way Alfonso had a son he hadn’t expected. Many dead ends bore the indentation of Maddox’s frustrated kicks trying to determine what the man wanted. Looking at his own daughter, he still couldn’t understand. A little. Not completely. 

“Tell your grandmother to save Maddox a seat beside her, yeah? She will absolutely be there before me.” Aubrey’s fucking bitch ass mom. “Go to sleep. Thank you for my drawing.” His smile relaxed. 

[serenity-writes]

about me tag!!

tagged by the lovely @fenrirgodspeed

sorry i’ve been awol y’all. finals have been kicking my ass ;-;

•How tall are you?

5′5!

•What color and style is your hair?

I have side bangs and long hair! It’s naturally kind of wavy so i have to straighten it all the time rip. I like it black & i’ve never dyed it any other color.

•What color are your eyes?

Dark brown!

•Do you wear glasses?

Yes unfortunately. Waiting for the day i can get lasik :((((

•Do you wear braces?

Had them in high school, it was awfullll

•What’s your fashion sense?

Am i going to class? probably leggings and a hoodie LOL

But honestly I love my trench coats and silk blouses and sheath dresses and all that business/professional wear. I would describe my style as classic!! I hope to fill my closet with nice things in the future

•Full name?

~a mystery~

•When were you born?

Sept 5!

•Where are you from and where do you live now?

Canada! Canada. exciting. :p but seriously, it’s great here

•What school do you go to?

I go to university!!

•What kind of student are you?

I used to fuck around a lot in school until it actually mattered. I’m happy to say I’m a straight-A student in uni!! Ofc it has come from a lot of tears and breakdowns but... worth it? ha. ha......

•Do you like school?

I think I’m bad at it, lol. Or at least I’m bad at studying in a productive way, I really just bang my head against the wall until something decent comes out. I’m not a huge fan of school but I like learning new things and when I get into something, I’m really into something.

•Favorite subject?

English lit + Creative writing!

•Favorite TV show?

I don’t really have favorites for anything, more like a tier list. ome top tier shows for me are: Friends, Brooklyn 99, The IT Crowd, Jane the Virgin (which you should all watch)!

•Favorite Movie?

Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, Inside Out, COCO (ruined me)

•Favorite books?

Lolita by Nabokov!! ! ! ! Anything by Nabokov really. Night Sky with Exit Wounds by Ocean Vuong (technically a poetry collection but it’s brilliant and beautiful and heart-breaking) Most of the reading I’ve done these days is for class, sooo The Tragedy of Tragedies by Henry Fielding is a wild time. 

There’s so much more but my mind is blanking - forgive me

•Favorite pastime?

I love gaming (jrpgs, animal crossing, ace attorney are my vices tbh), watching TV, and eating. So much eating.

•Do you have any regrets?

I try to do my best to minimize any regrets!

•Dream job?

Judge!

•Would you ever like to be married?

YES so much yes. I can’t wait!

•Would you like to have kids?

yessir

•How many?

1 or 2!

•Do you like shopping?

Retail therapy is way too real for me. I really love spending money, haha.... But I also enjoy knowing styles and matching outfits together and just looking at aesthetically pleasing getups in general.

•What countries have you visited?

France, Italy, China, USA! I’d like to go to Korea, Japan, and Germany! 

•Scariest nightmare you have ever had?

I have a lot of chase dreams actually ;;;;; Probably a metaphor for something

•Any enemies?

Uhhh I don’t think so?

•Any significant other?

Yes! :)

•Do you believe in miracles?

Not really. I believe in working hard for what you want!

•How are you?

Actually really exhausted. I wrote a final on just a few hours of sleep b/c of allergies and ... meh. I’m looking forward to sleeping tonight lol!

Tagging.... (Sorry if you’ve already been tagged) @myotomespace, @edgarbright, @oswaldsirius, @jaciinclays, and anyone who wants to do it!

[dovechim]

catharsis (m)

➾ catharsis (noun): the purification or purgation of strong/ repressed emotions that results in renewal and restoration 

➾ summary: where do you draw the line between fantasy and reality? Yoongi knows he has a kink that isn’t socially acceptable as kinks go. he’s already had several failed relationships in the past tucked under his belt as a result, so when you offer him a chance to live out his fantasy in a guiltless, no strings attached kinda way, what could go wrong?

➾ 14k

➾ warnings: impregnation kink, cumplay, nipple play, ball play, daddy kink, cock worship

➾ a/n: here it is!!!!!! a lot of you have been waiting for this, so i hope it lives up to your expectations 🙃 that being said, this is probably one of the filthiest things i’ve ever written... so enjoy, and happy valentines day ❤️

Yoongi has been moping around the house for the past week already, and while he’s normally in his room all day, you’ve never seen him look this worse for wear, with bags weighing his eyes down. He attributes it to work, of course, but you know better, given that he’d just broken up with his girlfriend of three years. He’d rejected another offer of free drinks at the club tonight, and even though you’re wasted as fuck, there’s a lingering worry at the back of your mind.

“Yoongi?” You cautiously peek your head inside his room, ready to duck if you see anything being thrown your way, even as you sway unsteadily on your feet. The last time you tried to enter his room unsolicited, you almost got a black eye from being hit in the face with his lamp, so you’re not risking things now.

A grumble sounds from the corner, and when you squint your eyes, you can see the light of his laptop from under his covers. He doesn’t look like he’s coming out anytime soon, so you play your next card.

“I got some lamb skewers.”

The lump under the covers stirs, but still doesn’t emerge, and you venture into the room cautiously, till you’re right at the edge of his bed. “C’mon, they’ll get cold if you don’t eat them now.”

No response from him, so you reach over to tug the covers aside, prayed that you won’t get mauled to death, only to catch a glimpse of his flesh coloured screen.

His laptop falls off his chest onto the side of the bed, and Yoongi looks at you like a deer in the headlights, earphones yanked out of the laptop’s jack by the movement. The sound of flesh hitting flesh fills the room, and in a second, it’s painfully clear why he was so reluctant to come out.

“Couldn’t you fucking wait just five more minutes?” Yoongi grumbles as he pushes himself into a sitting position.

“For what? Not like you were going to finish anyway,” you say as you glance towards his barely there bulge through his sweatpants, only just managing to suppress the urge to giggle at this very inopportune moment. “Why, did I scare the one-eyed monster off? Am I that unattractive?”

“Don’t give yourself so much credit,” Yoongi snorts as he reaches for his laptop to pause the video.

“Couldn’t get it up?”

“Hey, I don’t deserve that little credit.” Yoongi looks offended, but with his messy blonde hair strewn all over his forehead, you can’t seem to take him seriously. “How was the club?”

“Mhhm, okay. Why, regretting not coming out with us?”

“No fucking way, not with Jeon Jeongguk there. I had to deal with his drunk ass twice, and I’d rather dig my eyeball out than do it again.”

You tug back the covers and slide in beside him, and his warmth is so inviting that you snuggle up to him.

“Go back to your own bed, it’s literally just down the hall.”

“But you’re so warm Yoongi, let me stay here just for five minutes.” While you and Yoongi have been living together for the past five years all through uni and now postgrad, you’re no stranger to physical contact with him. It’s just that things had to stop when he was dating his girlfriend, and although he would never admit it, you know him well enough to realise that he’s craving some physical intimacy in a way that his hand and a porno can’t provide.

“And if you want me to jerk you off, you can just ask. It’s okay, we’re all adults here, what’s one little crummy handjob?” A grin spreads over your face at the sight of him rolling his eyes.

“Nah, wouldn’t wanna risk you being scared off by my one-eyed monster,” he shifts to make room for you under the covers, and the feeling of his warm body against yours is something you’ve definitely missed. He reaches to close his laptop, but you stop him. 

“Continue watching it. The girl’s really hot, and she looks like she’s been working hard.” You reach for his earphones and tug it out of his reach so that he has to play the video out loud.

“What the fuck, you’re so fucking weird,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but it’s all just for show because he clicks play anyway, secretly thankful that it was you of all people who found him like this. If it was Jimin or Taehyung, they’d never let him live this one down, and not to mention, he did like the feeling of your soft body in his bed.

As he shifts into a more comfortable position, he feels the curves of your breasts against his arm, and it ignites a stirring below his belly, and before he knows it, he’s already rock hard in his sweatpants. Huh, this is the fastest he’s ever gotten an erection in the past week spent holed up in his room trying to jack off, and this time it feels like he could actually finish as well, not that he’d ever say any of this out loud. 

The clip starts to play, but rather than focus on how that blonde girl is bouncing all over that enormous cock, he’s distracted by how soft your breasts feel against his arm, and wonders if he could get away with copping a feel.

That’s when you reach down to his sweatpants to squeeze him, and he curses out loud. 

“Hard already? We’re only two minutes in,” you comment casually, and he swats your hand away.

“The girl is hot,” he mutters under his breath.

“Take yourself out Yoongi, how are you gonna jerk off with your pants still on?”

Fuck, maybe this is all just a tactic to distract him from the fact that he’s newly single and pathetic again, or maybe your judgement is impaired by your drunkenness, but Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to follow your instructions. His length feels hot and heavy in his hand as he tugs it out and give it a few practice strokes, gathering the precum from his tip to spread down the rest of him.

The resulting slick sounds of his hand along his cock is unmistakeable in the small room. His eyes manage to catch a movement under the covers beside him, and- fuck, could it be?

He kicks the covers off in a single motion to see your hand up underneath your tight skirt, and he nearly shoots his cum all over himself.

You’re touching yourself right beside him in his bed, and in all his five years of knowing you, he’s never wanted you more than this moment. He wonders just how slick your clit is, with your fingers gliding over the nub in small circles, wonders how tight your pussy would be.

He’s increasing his pace, listening to your little whimpers and moans beside him, until he cums all over his fingers in messy ropes. You’re still going next to him, eyes fixed on his screen until he shuts his laptop with his clean hand, turning toward you.

Your whine of protest is cut off when he brings his cum coated fingers up between you. “Can I put them inside?”

Even in your drunken state, you realise what he’s asking, and you’re sober enough to consent as you tug your skirt down over your hips. You can feel the edge of your orgasm approaching, and Yoongi’s slick fingers slide over your clit in messy strokes before plunging inside you.

His cum makes everything so much more wet, and you can feel him literally trying to get as much of it inside you as possible. Yoongi even stops a few times to gather the cum from his spent length, only to shove his fingers back inside you and thrust them as deep as possible, until your walls are clenching around him in the throes of your pleasure.

When he pulls out, none of his cum remains on his fingers.

Yoongi can only watch your chest rising and falling as a result from your orgasm, and there’s a part of him that feels like he could go a second round. Just thinking about his cum inside you is making his cock stir again, the easy way in which you’d consented to letting him finger you. He doesn’t even know if you’re on birth control or anything.

You only laugh when Yoongi voices this out with slight panic in his voice.

“Relax, I wouldn’t let you stick those inside me if I wasn’t. I love you and all, but I’m sure as hell not ready for mini Yoongis running around,” you pull the hem of your miniskirt back down, not that it does much except to emphasise the luscious curve of your ass.

Yoongi’s a little more disappointed than relieved to hear this, although the rational part of him tries to convince him that you’re right. He’s not sure how you can be this casual even after you just let him finger his cum into you, but as he stares at your rapidly departing figure, his cock hard again, he jerks himself to another orgasm. This time with the thought of cumming deep in your pussy without pulling out.

*

The next morning brings with it a splitting headache and nausea, all of which reminds you that you’re not 20 anymore, and you can’t simply just drink the night away without any repercussions.  A strange slickness between your legs brings to mind what happened with Yoongi the night before, and this time, sober and everything, you finally process it.

Holy fuck, did Min Yoongi really have his fingers in your pussy just last night. 

A part of you just wants to stay in bed forever just so you don’t have to go out and navigate the awkwardness between you and him, but that plan is ruined when Yoongi knocks on your door impatiently. Before you can answer, he barges in with a glass of water and a plate of food in his hands.

“Wow, since when are you up before me?” You’re genuinely amazed to see him taking care of you like this, since Yoongi doesn’t really do these kind of things, at least not directly. He’s more the type to leave food out on the counter for you to find later.

“Shut it, and drink your water,” he grumbles, and shoves the glass to your lips in order to shut you up. The cool liquid slides down your throat, and he pulls the glass away just to feed you a painkiller before offering you the rest of the water. “L-listen, last night-“

“Let’s not overanalyse it to death, ok?” You cut in before he can finish his sentence. “I mean, we’re both consenting adults, so it’s no big deal. Unless you’re here to tell me you want more, of course.”

Yoongi freezes with the plate still resting on his thigh, eyes scrutinising your expression carefully, and he can’t decide whether or not you’re joking. Even the tone of your voice is completely ambiguous, but he decides to fuck it all.

“What if I do want more?”

You pause in reaching over to grab the plate from him, raising an eyebrow. “Really? Like in a friends with benefits kind of way?” 

Waiting for his reaction is torture, so you cast your eyes downwards to the slices of bread and sunny side up that he’d made for you. Suggesting this was a horrible idea, but the irrational part of your mind tells you that having Yoongi’s body is better than not having him at all.

“Um… yeah, I guess, if you want, I mean,” Yoongi is rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, also avoiding eye contact and hating how incoherent he sounds.

This is the most awkward you’ve ever been with him in the entirety of your friendship, and you just can’t stand the thought of losing Yoongi over something stupid like sex. But the thought of his lips against yours is far too tempting to resist, so you shift the plate aside, reach for the collar of his shirt and pull him into you.

He meets you with a surprised grunt, but then his hands are on your waist and his body is pressing you back into the bed from the earlier momentum. You’ve never felt this thrilled to have his weight on you like this before, as his lips suckle bruises into your neck and you can finally take the time to explore a sensitive spot just behind his ear.

Spreading your legs apart, delight blooms in your chest when Yoongi immediately settles between them, and you can feel the bulge of his arousal right where you need him the most. The weight of his body pinning you down makes you yearn for more. You can still feel the slickness from the previous night in your underwear, and the thought of Yoongi pulling your panties down only to see his cum still on your lips excites you to no end. You reach down to cup him impatiently, giving him a squeeze to convey your intentions.

“Fuck, wait, need to prep you first,” Yoongi protests with a slight nip to your ear.

“’m already wet enough from last night,” you admit with a devious grin, and he sucks in a deep breath.

“You’re so fucking nasty,” he grins back, hands sliding down your hips as he takes your shorts and underwear off with a smooth motion. His face is immediately between your legs, spreading your lips apart to reveal globs of his cum still remaining, and Yoongi feels his dick throb in approval.

“I wasn’t the one who insisted on pushing those cum covered fingers inside.” 

You can feel the ghost of his breath against your sensitive clit as he breathes out a laugh, and you grind your hips up into him desperately. He only responds with a gentle kiss to your inner thigh before laving his tongue up your slit, tasting a mixture of his and your cum. He follows up with several kitten licks, cleaning up your used pussy till there’s no more cum left. 

Yoongi gives your clit one last suckle before crawling up the length of your body, and you immediately cradle his head close for a kiss, moaning when you can taste your combined releases on his sweet lips.

“You liked me cleaning my cum from your pussy baby?” Yoongi teases you with the head of his cock against your clit, and you never knew that your best friend was this good at dirty talk, but you’re not complaining. “Cleaning your dirty little cum filled pussy before I fill it up again.”

His words send a jolt through your entire body, and you whine against his neck. But Yoongi isn’t having it, and he gives a harsh bite to your neck in punishment. “Use your words baby, you’re a big girl. Daddy wants to hear you.”

“Fuck, fill my pussy, Daddy.” The slip of his tongue in the throes of his pleasure has you clenching around him.  

The stretch of him against your walls leaves you breathless, and you have to cling on to his shoulders as he works his cock in deeper. Yoongi places his hands on your inner thighs to spread your legs wider for him, so he can see how well your pussy takes his cock, and the sight alone almost makes him lose his load. Your pussy looks so wet and swollen, wrapped tight around him. The feeling of your bare walls on his cock makes him want to cum immediately, but he forces himself to hold back just so he can see you cum first. Going bare like this is a new experience for him, since his ex always insisted on a condom, and Yoongi wonders how he’s ready to cum again in less than 8 hours.

“Yoongi, mmhm, deeper,” you press your hands against his ass in an effort to urge him on, unaware of his apparent dilemma and only desperate to feel him at the entrance of your womb.

He obliges you by pushing your thighs against your chest, slamming into your pussy in a way that makes your nerves burn a bright pink, and your toes curl. Yoongi admires how pretty you look all folded in half under him, and he feels his cock head slam against your cervix.

“Good girl, taking Daddy’s cock like a pro, hmmm?” He bends to whisper praise against your lips, smirking when you reach for his kiss like a woman starved. “Daddy’s so deep he can feel your hungry little womb, babygirl.”

He reaches down to feel how swollen your clit is, and this elicits a helpless sob from you as he continues to fuck you with harsh thrusts. The pressure against your cervix only makes the pleasure that much more intense, and you can’t help but cry out his name every time he pounds in deep.

“Daddy, I’m coming,” you warn him in a hoarse whisper, feeling his fingers speed up against your clit, and he pushes one of your thighs back with his other hand, keeping his thrusts deep and even. You squeeze tight around him, pleasure washing over every single nerve as you dig your nails deep into his back, clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, come all over Daddy’s cock,” Yoongi feels the convulsions spur him on towards his own high, and he can’t help but force both of your thighs back so that your hips are tilted up in the air. His balls are churning and the need to unload deep inside you has him almost incoherent as he chokes out your name.

“Gonna come so deep inside you babygirl, fuck, ahhhh, Daddy’s gonna get you nice and pregnant,” Yoongi grunts deep into your ear before he unleashes, ropes of cum filling your pussy till it’s leaking past his still pulsing balls. He can feel his cum inside making your walls all slippery, and pushes the thought of your birth control away to the back of his mind to ride out the rest of his orgasm, feeling the spurts of his cum grow weaker and weaker.

The feeling of his cock twitching inside you makes you slide your hand down to your clit for a few rubs, and coupled with the warmth of his cum, it doesn’t take much for another orgasm to wash over you. Streams of his cum are now leaking down your ass, and you can only cradle Yoongi’s still form to your body as you try to regain your breath.

Yoongi is reluctant to pull out of your warm and wet pussy, till his dick softens and he slips out of you. He’s kneeling back to admire the mess he made of your cunt, and also marvel at the amount of cum he had despite cumming twice just last night 

“Didn’t know you were into Daddy kink- how cliché,” you comment casually as you close your legs, hiding your pussy from his view, to Yoongi’s immense disappointment.

“Wh-what?” It feels like he’s just come to his senses, the need to cum having overridden everything else, and all of a sudden he is seized with a panic, not remembering what he said only a few minutes ago.

“Don’t sweat it, I’m cool with it,” you reassure him, giving him a warm smile as you squeeze his hand. “But also, um…” 

“What else did I say?” Yoongi pretends to fake nonchalance, when there’s a dread building up inside him.

“I didn’t know you wanted babies that badly either.”

Fuck, there it is. Yoongi feels like a deer trapped in the headlights now, because he’s never had this discussion come up with any of his past flings, or even his ex-girlfriend. He doesn’t even know where this urge to impregnate you comes from, all he knows is that you’d look so beautiful when swollen and pregnant, carrying his baby. But the thought of saying this aloud sends anxiety coursing through him, because it’s not exactly something you say to your fuck buddy.

“I could get into it, if that’s what you’re into.”

His heart nearly stops in his chest when he processes your words, and he stares at you for a moment in disbelief.

“What? Was that weird?” You chuckle nervously, threading your fingers into the sheets beneath you as you close your thighs modestly, feeling his cum leak out you in a thick stream. If Yoongi didn’t have such an apprehensive look on his face, you’d tell him straight up that it was turning you on too. But he seems to be caught in an internal struggle of his own, so you reach for his hand instead and squeeze it.  

“N-no, it’s just…” Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “That was why we broke up. Minji and I.”

A beat of silence passes before you shrug, reaching for a few tissues beside your bedside to contain the mess between your legs. “I mean, to each their own I guess. But I can’t deny that your dirty talk really turned me on.”

There’s a leap of delight in Yoongi’s chest, and all of a sudden, he feels the need to have you in his arms and hold you close, which is awfully unlike him. He doesn’t do post sex cuddles, but the thought of having you snuggle into his chest while he strokes your messy pussy lips isn’t all that bad.

“That’s all it is right? The dirty talk aspect of it,” your voice pulls him back from a fantasy of stroking your swollen belly, and he has to swallow hard to concentrate. “The whole fantasy of knocking someone up.”

For a moment, he deliberates over whether he should tell you the truth or not, afraid he might scare you away. But his brain is filled with endorphins, and he can’t think properly, all the more when you tug at his arm and pull him into your pillow beside you.

“No, it’s not only that,” he admits with his nose in your hair, feeling particularly vulnerable. But you snuggle deeper into his chest, arms around his waist, and without seeing your face, he feels a little braver. “It’s the whole risk of it too. B-but I know you’re on birth control, and it’s okay. I just imagined you aren’t.”

“So like roleplaying? And fantasising? Is that what made you cum so hard?” Your voice is slightly muffled in his chest, and Yoongi thinks it’s cute. But the way you’re probing him like this is new, no one’s ever made an effort to understand him and his kinks like this before, and much less outside of a relationship.

“Yeah, I guess.” Silence follows, and Yoongi’s worried that he’s already fucked this up right from the beginning. “You think I’m weird as fuck right? That I’m some kind of creep?”

“Shut up and go to sleep, I don’t have work till noon and I intend on getting every last wink.”

*

Yoongi stirs awake to an empty bed, glancing at the clock to realise that it’s already past lunch. You must have left for work already, so he indulges in a stretch before lazily making his way into the kitchen to survey his lunch options. 

He catches sight of a post it note on the dining table, and a brief skim of it tells him it’s your usual grocery list. You and him had worked out a schedule of grocery shopping and general household duties, and while he admits that the whole domesticity of it all is a little strange for two friends living together, he doesn’t mind it at all.

But today there’s one new item at the bottom of the list, and Yoongi’s breath catches in his lungs when he registers it.

Birth control- pls help me pick it up at the clinic!! It’s urgent, thanks babe!!

At the back of his mind he wonders if it’s because you and him have started this new arrangement now, if friends with benefits do these kind of things for each other. Suddenly it begins to feel a lot more than just picking up the groceries, a lot more intimate, and Yoongi can’t get the thought of it out of his mind as he hastily boils some water for ramen. Did you always call him babe? It feels like Yoongi can’t even think straight, let alone try and recall your petname or lack thereof for him before all of this even started.

Cursing himself in irritation, he forces the last item to the back of his mind as he reaches for some chopsticks, concentrating on not burning his tongue instead.

But even as he strolls through the aisles of cereal half an hour later, his eyes can’t help but wander down to the very edge of the bright blue post-it. The thought of it is plaguing him incessantly, and he decides that the quicker he crosses it off his list, the better, so he breezes through the rest of the groceries only to find himself at the pharmacy.

“U-um, prescription for Ms ____ please?” He glances at the pharmacist nervously, lowering his voice at the same time.

“One moment please,” the pharmacist acknowledges him with a nod before turning around to rummage through some records, finally pulling out a card and scanning its contents.

“Birth control refill right? Can I see some I.D if you’re collecting on her behalf?”

Yoongi digs out his I.D from the depths of his wallet, sliding it across the table towards the pharmacist. After taking a cursory glance at his photo- one taken back when he still had that horrible mint green hair- she decides that it’s a good enough match to the man standing in front of her. She disappears into the room behind her for a few minutes, leaving Yoongi standing anxiously at the counter.

She reappears with a round packet of foil containing tiny little pills, and deposits them into a small ziplock bag before handing it to him. “Thank you, have a nice day!”

Yoongi hightails it from the pharmacist, shoving the pills into a random grocery bag and trying his best to tame his curiosity over the tiny pink pills. But he reasons that there’s nothing to be secretive about, nothing to be ashamed about either. They’re just pills, just medicine for fuck’s sake. You wouldn’t mind if he took a look at them would you?

Anyway, now that he’s put them together with the cereal, he needs to unpack the groceries when he gets home. So he’ll inevitably stumble upon it, he tells himself as he unlocks the door and steps inside. But the first thing he reaches for is not the cereal, or the perishables like ice cream that really should go in the freezer, but instead the packet of pills that he examines closely.

Yoongi can almost feel the blood rushing to his cock as he flirts with the fantasy of replacing your birth control with sugar pills, placebo ones so that you’ll be ripe and fertile when he cums inside you. Entertains the idea of seeing your belly grow with his seed, watching you walk around the house heavy with his child. His cock grows hard at the thought of you going out with a rounded belly so everyone will know that he fucked you and you belong to him now.

He reaches for the waistband of his sweats and pushes them down his hips, letting his heavy cock spring free as he begins to tug at it feverishly. Stroking his cock to thoughts of drenching your sweet pussy in cum, letting fate decide if the small amount of cum that makes it in will impregnate you or not. His strokes grow faster as he imagines another scenario where he pushes in deep, holding your legs in the air to keep his cum plugged up tight after he releases inside you. Having filled you up so good and deep that none of his cum drips out, instead seeking your fertile egg mercilessly.

Yoongi cums all over the kitchen counter with a groan, feeling dirtier than he’s ever felt in his entire life. You’re far too good for him, so sweet and innocent and for asking him to get your birth control for you and trusting that he won’t fuck with it, especially since he’s already told you he fantasises about you not taking it.

Still light-headed from his orgasm, Yoongi wonders if you’re doing this on purpose to tempt him, and more importantly, to tempt fate itself.

But he brushes the thought aside. When he comes to his senses again, he tucks himself back into his pants, putting your birth control away- not to be touched, he reminds himself- as he cleans up and locks himself in his room.

*

You haven’t seen Yoongi in a few days, the last sign of him being the restocked pantry in the kitchen and your packet of birth control pills sitting on the counter. Disappointment fills your chest a little, as you were dying to see his reaction over having to get you birth control ever since he admitted to imagining you going off it. You really shouldn’t tease him so cruelly like this, but you have to admit that the thought of risking it turns you on as well.

Work ended late today, and you remember belatedly that there’s always a particular week a month that yours and Yoongi’s schedules clash, so you don’t end up seeing each other that often. But your panties have been damp all day at the thought of having his cock pounding into you, and it’s that thought alone that urges you to strip to just your soaked lace panties and bralette as you push open his bedroom door.

“Yoongi?”

It’s well past midnight, and Yoongi has the morning shift the next day, so of course he would be asleep. But you edge towards his bed anyway, placing your weight beside him as the bed dips, watching as he stirs awake to register your barely dressed figure. 

“Wh- fuck, what are you doing here?” He sounds grumpy, on the edge of snapping at you, and you decide you have raise the stakes.

“Daddy, my pussy aches,” you whisper as you slide in beside him, and immediately you can feel his body perk up with interest at the word alone. It’s become your way of signalling to him that you want to roleplay for a bit. “Need you to help me, I can’t sleep.”

“Is that so?” His voice is still hoarse from sleep, deeper than you’ve ever heard before, and it sends a gush into your already ruined panties. “Let me check and see what Daddy can do about it, hmm?”

Yoongi slides his hand down your belly, turning to mouth at your tits sleepily. When his hand meets the soaked patch of lace, he responds with a sharp intake of breath, now fully awake. He pulls the lace away from your folds, sliding his fingers in between them until he’s buried deep in your cunt, and you moan in delight. 

“Mhmm, that’s it Daddy, right there,” you whisper, arching into him as his fingers stroke your walls just right. 

He grinds the heel of his palm into your clit while his fingers are stretching you out deliciously. Yoongi turns to pull the lace of your bralette down with his free hand, taking a nipple into his mouth. “Babygirl is needy for daddy?”

“Yes, want daddy so bad,” you whisper back against his skin, feeling his fingers seek out that rough patch inside you. 

“Look, you’re so nasty, dripping all over my hand,” Yoongi smirks into your breast, tonguing a nipple. “You like having Daddy’s fingers inside you? Like being fingerfucked like this?”

“Yes, I love it so much Daddy,” you suck open mouthed kisses into his neck, whining in protest when he slows down the pace of his fingers.

“Bad girls don’t get to come unless it’s around Daddy’s cock,” Yoongi reminds you, pulling his sticky fingers away and wiping them on your inner thigh crudely. He sits up to spread your legs with two hands on your thighs, exposing your drenched pussy to him as he impatiently rips your panties off.

He shoves the sweatpants to just below his ass, far too desperate to take them off properly. Yoongi wants to feel your walls around him, groaning as his head leaks precum. He rubs his tip against your entrance teasingly, watching as his precum disappears into your slit, and a thrill races through him when he remembers that precum contains sperm as well. You reach a hand down to run your fingers through your slit, playing with your ripe little pussy to tease him and your hole clenches in response, eager to be fucked and Yoongi can’t help but bite his lip hard as he lets his cock push your fingers away.

The first glide is always the best, the feeling of you, hot and bare around him, gripping him with your silky walls as you struggle to take him balls deep. Yoongi swears under his breath as you clench around him, whining and whimpering as your bare pussy is split apart by his cock. He doesn’t think he could go back to using condoms after this, he thinks to himself as he holds himself above you, panting slightly. The slight frown in between your brows concerns him a little, and he pauses in his strokes to press a kiss in between them.

“You okay?” He watches you carefully, dropping the nickname to let you know that he’s genuinely worried.

“Ah, yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry,” you give him a little smile, biting your lip mischievously as you glance down to watch his cock fill you up. “Daddy’s just a little big.”

And then he gets it, you’re just acting up for the roleplay, and he relaxes against your body a little as he presses his balls against your ass. He jerks in surprise when you reach down to dance a few naughty fingers against his balls, feeling the weight of them in your small hands.

When he begins to thrust, you can feel his balls hit your ass with obscene slaps of skin but you’ve never relished the sound as much as now. Yoongi’s face is utterly concentrated as he delivers strong, harsh thrusts into your pussy, and spreading your legs to take him all the way.

“Daddy,” you whisper into his neck as he fucks you into the mattress, feeling a giggle bubble up your throat when you consider your next words. “I have a confession; I’ve been very bad.”

“Oh?” Yoongi is a little confused, but he plays along with you, reaching down to run his tongue along the lobe of your ear as he continues his measured thrusts into you. “What is it?” 

“I forgot my pill today,” you murmur, trying your best to contain a smirk so that he can’t tell if you’re serious or not. You can immediately feel him freeze mid thrust, but even as he pauses, his cock seems to grow harder inside you, and his hips involuntarily jerk forward when you wrap your legs around him. “I’m sorry for forgetting, but can you still fuck me, Daddy? Please?”

“O-of course, sweetheart,” Yoongi is choking on his words, all too consumed in the act, and at this point he can’t even tell if you’re still immersed in your role, but fuck, he can’t bring himself to care. “Daddy will fuck you good, don’t worry.”

“Mmmm, good,” you moan into his ear, spreading your legs wider to offer your willing pussy up to him. “Craving Daddy’s cum inside me so bad. Was thinking about it all day at school.”

“P-princess,” Yoongi’s breathing is growing harsh, his hips moving in stuttering motions as he struggles to compose himself, playing his part of the conflicted boyfriend perfectly, even as a part of him desperately hopes that you did in fact forget to take your pill today. Reality and fantasy are blurring together in a dangerous haze of lustful desire, and Yoongi finds himself more turned on than he’s ever been in his entire life. He swallows hard, resisting the urge to just blast your womb with loads of potent cum to knock you up good and proper, instead keeping in character as he presses tender kisses to your forehead. “Can’t cum inside you, fuck, you might get pregnant, babygirl. It’s not safe.”

“Don’t care,” you grasp him even closer, pussy clenching around his length as you seek to milk him for all he’s worth. You bask in the look of intense conflict on his face, biting your lip as you bare your neck for him, bringing your hands up to palm your breasts and tweak your nipples. “I want Daddy’s baby… want you to fill my tits with so much milk. Won’t you cum inside me and give me a baby?”

Fuck, Yoongi really thinks he might pass out, his heart is in overdrive as he pumps harder into your sopping wet cunt, feeling his cock throbbing non-stop as his orgasm nears. He buries his face into your neck, lips pressed tight against your ear as he imagines seeding your fertile little womb. Giving up all pretenses, he growls deep in your ear, “Just lay back and let Daddy take care of his princess.”

A thrill of exhilaration courses through you as Yoongi’s thrusts increase in speed, and he’s fucking you so hard that you’re moving up the bed with every motion. The feeling of being helplessly pinned under a man so determined to get you pregnant, so eager to seed your pussy fuels your lust like you’ve never felt before.

He diverts his attention to the delicious way in which your tits are bouncing because of his thrusts, and Yoongi can’t help but take a nipple into his mouth while palming the other one, worshipping your breasts with his tongue and hands. When he’s sufficiently teased one nipple into a peak, he switches sides, marking your skin with hues of lavender and violet, imagining how they would swell with milk later on.

“T-tell Daddy where you want his cum, sweetheart.” Yoongi has his tongue tracing the shell of your ear, panting as he nears his high.

“I-in my womb, Daddy, deep inside.”

He can feel your arms around his waist, heels digging into his ass, urging him on deeper as his heavy balls slap against your ass. When he closes his eyes, he can see the packet of birth control pills that he got for you, and the thought of you missing a single day makes him grasp your hips hard, just rutting into your pussy desperately till he’s erupting in streams of semen that fill you up.

“Ahhh shit, fuck, babygirl, Daddy’s coming,” he pants against your neck, a thrill of pleasure shooting down his spine when he feels you coo in delight, laying there submissively as you take his cum like a good little slut should. In the haze of his orgasm he can feel your walls squeezing him tight, milking him so well as you cum around him too.

You lie back and close your eyes, a contented grin making its way onto your face as you relish the feel of his twitching, sensitive dick and the sloppiness of your pussy as he gives you a few slow, tender thrusts. The head of his cock against your soft, receptive cervix, pushing his cum deeper.

“Oh Daddy, your cum feels so warm, thank you,” you push your hips higher, imagining that you’re giving his sperm the best possible chance at reaching your ripe egg. “Let me make you a daddy now.”

Yoongi eventually slows, resting his weight on his arms on either side of your head as he kisses his way down your body, tongue dancing over your silky skin. He places kisses on both breasts, taking his time to suckle each nipple reverently, then in your cleavage, on your ribcage and slowly makes his way down to your stomach, pulling his softening cock out in the process. He scatters a few more kisses on your belly just for good measure before he reaches your mound, stroking your swollen lips gently before laving his tongue through the sticky mess. You’re already dripping even though he pushed in all the way when he came inside you.

“You did so well, baby, took my cum like a good girl,” he whispers, and you bask in his praise, proudly spreading your legs wider to show him your dripping pussy even as you reach down to grasp for one of his hands still on your belly.

“Love you,” you say sleepily, eyes fluttering closed, and Yoongi glances up at you in surprise, his entire body going rigid. 

He’s not sure if you’re still roleplaying with him or not, because you dropped the word ‘Daddy’. But the sight of you laying sated, asleep with a pussy full of his cum and legs still spread wide makes him want to believe that you mean it for real, as he pulls himself up the length of your body, fingers entangled with yours, and loses himself in your scent.

*

“You seem different lately,” Hoseok comments with narrowed eyes as he watches you sort through the new batch of lipsticks that just came in.

“Hmm, really? How? Like more caffeinated, rounder, and just more tired in general?” You unbox the tubes and start to check over each product for any defects before you decide how to best put them on display. “Wouldn’t be surprised, my supervisor just rejected my latest draft.”

“No, no,” Hoseok shakes his head, kneeling beside you to pick up a random tube as he studies your face a little more intently. “God, why do you always have to take everything so negatively? I meant in a good way.”

You can only roll your eyes as you snatch a tube from him. “Please, don’t act like you weren’t the first one to call me out on my eyebags that last time. Said ‘someone who sells makeup should have some standards at least.’”

And although Hoseok is more than just a co-worker at this point- he’s stuck with you through 12 hour shifts followed by drunken attempts to finish your proposals- you know he isn’t one to beat around the bush. If you look like shit, he will say it, but then he’ll offer to touch up your concealer after.

“I provide nothing but the truth,” he shrugs indifferently, moving away from you to dig out another box of shipments. “I can’t exactly place it, but you look different. Does this have to do with a certain Min Yoongi breaking up with his girlfriend last month?”

Damn Jung Hoseok. He’s nothing but perceptive, and you’re nothing but a bad liar, so you don’t even have to reply, because the expression on your face gives it all away.

“I knew it! You’ve been lusting over that dick for how long now?”

As much as you hate to admit it, you have indeed been pining over your roommate for the longest time ever, not that you’ll ever say this out loud, but in reality, you don’t really need to, because Hoseok will say it for you. But you can’t exactly begin to describe how this all started, exactly, because one day you were moving in with a complete stranger on a completely new lease, slowly getting accustomed to his awful sleeping habits and even worse diets, and the next you were camping out on a couch with him, pulling the same all-nighters while ingesting unhealthy, even lethal amounts of wine and Cheetos. And then you find yourself cuddling up to him in the name of platonic friendship, even though you know deep down in your bones that the racing of your heart, the staccato beat that it drums out against your ribcage is anything but platonic.

It’s always been complicated.

“It’s simple, really,” you shrug nonchalantly. “He just broke up with his girlfriend and he’s a little upset, and lo and behold, who should be conveniently around to provide a little physical reassurance?”

Hoseok doesn’t seem convinced the slightest bit by your tirade as he slices into the cardboard box with a box cutter. 

“I mean, if you say so… just be careful, you know how these relationships end, one party always gets- FUCK! That’s it!!!” His sudden exclamation startles you, and your hand immediately flies over your chest. 

“Good fucking heavens, what the fuck is it?” You exhale in exasperation, detesting his ability to blow even the smallest of matters up with his over exaggerated reactions.

“I know what’s different about you now,” Hoseok grins triumphantly as he holds up a small makeup pan that seems to contain a very reflective looking powder that glistens under the harsh lights of the shop’s display within it. “You’ve got that natural glow, that highlight!! Like y’know, the ones mothers always have. That pregnancy glow, as they call it.” 

You can’t help but snort in response. “What? You’ve truly gone off your rocker this time, Jung Hoseok. Because I know the only highlight I’ve got going on here is sweat, au naturel.”

He purses his lips in contemplation, causes his dimples to make an appearance as he surveys your face again. “No, I really do think you look glowier. Must be the power of sausage Min.”

“Ew, please don’t ever associate dicks with food again.” You wave him away dismissively as you finish unboxing the last of the lipsticks and move over to help him with the highlighters.

But his words have struck a chord, and your mind can’t help but wander back to the roleplay that you and Yoongi have established as the norm now. As hot as it might be, the thought of it turning into reality scares you to no end, especially since you’re still a post graduate student buried up over the head in debt. It’s not the thought about giving birth or any of those gory details that puts you off, rather it’s the fear of financial inadequacy and the level of commitment that you’d have to devote to rearing another tiny person in your life.

The bell rings, and you have to brush the thought away to attend to customers.

*

It’s the arrival of your usual tuition fee bill that throws everything off.

You’ve managed to get by quite comfortably for the past few years on a combination of a student loan, partial scholarship funding and a part time job, and while you were by no means living a life of luxury, you could afford the occasional weekend roadtrip every once in a while.

But now as you stare at the letter in your hands, there is a sense of dread that overwhelms you.

Dear ______,

This is accompanying your semester’s tuition fees for undertaking the post graduate program. We are gravely regretful to inform you that your scholarship funding has been withdrawn due to undisclosed reasons on several benefactor’s sides, and we are no longer able to provide this source of financial support for you, effective immediately. 

While we understand that this may affect you greatly, we are unable to provide any extensions for school fees. Please be reminded that failure to pay your school fees on time would result in a delayed graduation, and in some cases, termination.

Please contact the Financial Support Office if you have any further queries.

For a moment you remain on the couch, entirely paralyzed by the shock that ensues, yet not entirely comprehending the consequences that might result from this letter. The words itself are running through your head over and over, but you don’t move a muscle, because if you stay entirely still, then maybe time will stop and you don’t have to deal with this.

But reality always sets in sooner or later.

A well of desperation threatens to drag you under as you take the letter, walking to your room and trying your best to stop the tears from spilling. It’s in moments like these that you pride yourself on your unwavering rationality and persistence to find a solution to get you out of this, but even so, you can’t help but feel the urge to just give up, let your panic consume you entirely.

You open the lid of your laptop with shaky hands, waking it up with a few taps on the touchpad. Immediately opening up a search engine, you attempt to source for other kinds of funding through your school’s website, only stumbling upon scholarships and awards similar to yours, not awarded mid semester. A few clicks bring you to more prestigious awards that you know you haven’t a chance in hell of scoring, so you close the tab immediately.

After a while of browsing, your eyes grow weary and tired, throat thick and sore from holding back all your tears, and that’s when you almost miss it. The very last link on the page titled ‘Alternative Sources of Funding for Post Grads’: Funding for Students with Child(ren).

With bated breath, you click on the link and skim down the page briefly, taking in all the requirements and small print.

Eligibility: To be eligible for this source of funding, applicants have to provide birth certificate for existing children who must be living with them under the same household. In addition, the University also takes into consideration expectant mothers. To apply, simply submit proof of pregnancy by a certified medical professional.

And then Hoseok’s words come back to haunt you again, and the pounding in your temples only grows worse.

Get pregnant just for the sake of extra funding? Is this what you’ve become?

It’s ridiculous. Plain and simple. There’s no way this is worth a lifetime commitment of a baby. And yet…

If you don’t finish this post graduate degree, there’s almost no way you’ll be able to make it out in the real world, because your discipline is worthless as an undergraduate degree. You’ve heard horror stories of seniors and alumni who didn’t go on to post grad being reduced to doing menial work or changing line completely. Doing this would open up an entire new avenue of opportunities for you, and not to mention, allow you to stay in the field that makes you feel most alive, makes you feel like all those long nights spent slogging away was finally worth it, like you’re living your life exactly the way you want it to.

But there has to be another way.

Exhausted, you shove your laptop away and crawl into bed, finally unable to keep the tears at bay as you succumb to the sweet tendrils of sleep that drag you under.

*

This is how Yoongi finds you the next morning, with dried mascara streaks on your cheeks and still in your work attire of jeans and a uniform shirt.

He sighs through his nose, already hating the prospect of waking you up from your slumber. He’d hate to be woken up from a deep sleep himself, but he knows that if he lets you continue like this, you’ll most likely develop some kind of spinal deformation just from your horrible sleeping posture alone.

So he reaches over to slide his arms under your back and knees to reposition you properly, but he freezes when his arm accidentally brushes against your laptop’s touchpad, waking it from sleep. He reads the title of the last webpage you were on, before his eyes fall to the discarded letter by your side.

The words are jumbled, and they don’t make sense to him till he finally registers the official letterhead of the university, and then everything clicks into place. He swallows hard as his eyes skim back over your sleeping form, and all of a sudden there’s an unfamiliar tug in his chest, and it’s hard to do anything but slide in beside you with his arms wrapped tight around your waist.

Work can wait, he decides, as he presses his lips to your forehead briefly.

*

An unfamiliar sensation of someone’s arms wrapped tight around you makes you stir from your sleep, and when you open your eyes, you come face to face with Yoongi’s peaceful, sleeping expression. He’s always the most beautiful when he sleeps, all the worries and weight of the world are gone from in between his eyebrows, his lips stretched into a content little smile.

And he likes to sleep with his legs curled up into his body.

The thought of it makes you grin in amusement, but then his eyes flutter open and you’re caught in the act. 

“Watching me sleep now?”

“Was not,” you counter back even as you secretly admire the milky smooth texture of his skin. “Don’t you have work?”

“Cancelled,” he blinks a few times before closing his eyes again, and he almost drifts back to sleep, but the movement of you sitting up is disturbing him. A few seconds later, your voice, tense and defensive, stirs him fully awake.

“D-did you see this?” You’re holding the letter in one hand, and your laptop is awake again.

“Yeah.” Yoongi decides that playing it cool is the best approach, because you seem too worked up for your own good already. “Caught a glimpse of it when I was gonna wake you up for breakfast a few hours ago.” 

You stare at him in silence for what seems like hours, before a disdainful chuckle breaks out. “You must think I’m some kind of desperate slut right? What kind of person would even consider getting pregnant for money?”

Yoongi murmurs your name in the depth of his chest in an attempt to get your attention, but you’re far too distraught for that, the dilemma of your situation sinking back in.

“And there are people out there who are actually trying to have a child out of love and can’t,” tears are welling up in your eyes, but you swipe at your cheeks violently, evidently frustrated with not only the situation, but yourself as well. “What have I become, Yoongi?”

His heart is aching as he watches you claw at your face, and before you can do any further damage, he reaches to grab your wrist to stop you. “It’s not unethical, ______. You’re judging yourself way too harshly- who’s to say you won’t love the child just as much as the next parent?”

“Doesn’t it disgust you that I’m seriously considering this?” You stare at him through watery eyes, and when he shakes his head, you can’t help but feel a bitterness rise within your chest that makes you lash out at him. “Yoongi, this is real fucking life, not just some deluded fantasy or role play. You don’t get it, do you?”

Your accusation hits him where it really hurts, and his hackles rise in defence. “Of course I fucking know this is real, it’s your damn life, how could I forget that? Let’s just forget I have that damn kink in the first place and think about this rationally-“

“No, we can’t forget about it, because you’re talking with your dick,” you shoot back, pushing yourself off the bed just to have some distance in between you. “I don’t think you really understand how big the stakes are here- getting pregnant means bringing a new life into this world that I’ll have to be responsible for, and raising a child all on my own is not something I’m financially or mentally capable of right now-“

“Then let me help you.”

The words are frozen on your tongue, but Yoongi’s expression is dead serious, nothing to suggest that he’s joking even in the slightest.

“This has nothing to do with my kink,” he carries on, making sure that his gaze is locked dead on yours so that you can’t look away.

“Th-then what is it?” You’re almost afraid to hear the answer to your own question, because it doesn’t make sense in the slightest. Why would Yoongi offer to do anything like this when he’s not even the least bit in love with you? A child is a lifetime commitment, and it’s insane that he would even consider something like this when all he has for you are platonic feelings.

“I want to help you, I want to do it with you,” the words come out in a rush of exhaled breath from his lips, one that nearly knocks you off your feet as you comprehend them in disbelief. 

“You want to do… what with me?”

Yoongi swallows hard, regret immediately clouding his chest when he sees your frown of disbelief, but he’s already fucked, and he can’t take back his words now. So with the courage he didn’t know he had, he meets your eyes again. “I want to have a baby with you.”

“Wh- what did you just say?”

“You’re it for me,” his confession comes out in a dishevelled heap of spent breath and desperation. “It was always just a kink with all my exes, I never wanted anything to materialise from it because it scared the shit out of me. But with you… it’s different. It sounds cliché as hell, and I don’t know why or how, it just is. I just want to give you everything in the world, and watching you struggle like this fucking hurts, okay?” 

Everything’s out in the open now, and he can see your eyes widen as you take a step back, and a sinking feeling in his stomach makes him feel like the entire room is spinning. He digs his fingers into the sheets just to ground himself to reality, a reality where he’s a sliver away from losing you.

“I-I need to go to work,” you mumble, wrenching the door open to let yourself out, and before he knows it, Yoongi hears the front door slam, and then you’re gone.

*

“My roommate is trying to get me pregnant.”

There’s a conversation starter Hoseok hasn’t heard before, and he does a double take at you over the top of his screen. “Um, I don’t think I got that right, one more time please?”

Your resulting glare has him clearing his throat and pushing his laptop away so he can see you fully. You’re biting your lip with a pensive frown as you attempt to keep typing out your proposal that’s also due in just a few days, and while Hoseok has certainly seen you at your worst, he can’t say he’s ever seen you look this distressed before.

It’s certainly the first time he’s ever been at a loss for words like this, but he doesn’t resort to his usual acerbic comment or biting remark, because he can tell that the situation is really dire this time.

“Um… context would be useful.” Hoseok watches as you type away resolutely. “Also, is this aforementioned roommate Min Yoongi by any chance?”

“What other roommate do I have?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes, but you know that you’re simply just projecting your frustration onto him, and that’s not fair. “It’s because my scholarship has been rescinded and I have to find alternative sources of funding so I can continue slogging my guts out over this stupid proposal that won’t write itself,” you let out a long sigh, punching at the spacebar harder than you need to.

“Wait, I don’t see the link between needing money and getting pregnant,” Hoseok raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused, not like he’s trying to make fun of you. “Wouldn’t having a child deplete you of more money?”

“Not with the grant for expecting mothers,” you shake your head wearily even as you meet his glance, relieved to find not even a trace of judgement in them. “It’s a… substantial amount of money, Hope-ah, enough for my post grad and a baby with plenty to spare.”

Your voice cracks when you use your nickname for him, something that you don’t ever do unless you’re just about to break down, right at the edge of cracking like that one time you got kicked out of the house by your family for pursuing a “useless” career path.

Hoseok slumps back in his seat. “Wow the government must be pretty damn desperate for babies, then.”

“Wait, that’s all you can say? You’re supposed to talk me out of this!!” You grab his arm in desperation, almost willing the savage Hoseok that you know and don’t love to resurface and roast the hell out of you.

Hoseok merely shrugs, to your immense surprise. “It’s a pretty decent idea, and don’t get me wrong here, and you’re not the type to jump in head first without thoroughly considering the pros and cons of something. I know you, _____, and if you’re seriously thinking about this, then I trust your judgement and I’ll be behind you all the way.” 

You stare at him for a moment, completely dumbfounded as you try to process this unusual show of faith in your decision making capabilities. 

“But just one thing,” Hoseok continues on, ignoring your tightening grip on his arm. “What does Yoongi have to say about this?” 

“He said he wants to do it.” Just the sound of his name is dredging up memories of him that you don’t want to confront, and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. “He said he wants to have a baby with me. A-and he said he wants to be fully involved afterwards too.”

“Well then, what’s the fucking problem? Go fuck him and get knocked up, bitch!” Hoseok throws his hands up in the air, attracting the attention of a few other people in the small coffeeshop, and you glare at him.

“You don’t understand,” you hiss at him. “Why the fuck would he want to do this? Tie himself down to a girl he doesn’t love and throw away the rest of his golden years?” 

But then Hoseok leans in with a pensive look on his face, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you in close. “That’s right, _____, why would Yoongi do this? When he could be out there playing the field and having any girl he wants, why would he choose you?”

You pull away, not used to him being so serious. “Are you kidding me right now, Jung Hoseok? I’m not fucking around-“

“Neither am I, god, you’re just so dense sometimes, you’re really smart in everything else that you do, but this-“ Hoseok pulls back with a resigned sigh. “I want you to think really carefully about why Yoongi might do this.”

“He’s a deranged moron who lacks proper decision making skills?” You don’t want to tell him the part about Yoongi’s kink, because it feels way too private and intimate, so you just make up some excuse from the top of your head. Because you honestly cracked your brain over this for the past few hours already, and if Jung Hoseok is going to sit here and make fun of you like this, you’ll take your caramel macchiato somewhere else alright-

“He’s in love with you, you fucking idiot,” Hoseok rolls his eyes heavenwards as you choke on your drink in utter confusion. “Love really is blind…”

“Excuse me, what the fuck did you just say?” You catch the last part of his sentence as he mutters under his breath. “And I don’t know where you got that from, but you’re utterly, completely wrong-“

“Look, like you said, men don’t offer to tie themselves down to a woman just like that,” Hoseok explains patiently, and as he continues talking, you feel an unsettling churn in your stomach, your uneasiness growing as you consider his words. “The circumstances right now may be a little weird and skewed, and maybe that’s why you’re stumbling around like a blind fool, but it’s essentially a confession. At least from my point of view from an uninvolved party.”

Silence intrudes into the conversation for a while, and a part of you just won’t give in that easily, won’t let yourself succumb to the sweet notion that the unrequited love you’ve been nursing all these years is finally reciprocating. Because life isn’t a damn movie, things just don’t fall into place so neatly, this is not how your life usually goes.

Hoseok can see the gears turning in your head, and he sees right through that façade of indifference that you struggle to maintain. “_____, you need to stop torturing and beating yourself up like this. You deserve to be happy, and the chance is literally right in front of you. Just let yourself be happy for once. There’s literally nothing stopping you except for yourself standing in the damn way.”

Maybe he’s right.

Hoseok shuts the lid of your laptop for you, sliding it back in its case as you wipe your cheeks hastily. Just as you open your mouth to spout out some nonsense about “what if he doesn’t love me back”, your phone lights up with a message from him, and he’s asking to see you.

“Go get him, bitch,” Hoseok whispers under his breath as you push yourself out your chair with a strength you didn’t know you’d had. 

* 

The 5 minute walk home turns into a 10 minute amble, and you tell yourself that you’re just trying to make the most out of the cool autumn air that slices past your cheeks. Or that you’re just trying to mentally prepare yourself for the upcoming encounter, but no matter how many deep breaths you take, you simply can’t exhume the anxiety that is clouding up your chest.

Regretfully, you reach your front door all too soon, and every move you make feels as if you’re walking on eggshells as you slowly unlock the door and step inside, deliberately shedding your coat as slowly as possible before you approach the living room hesitantly.

“In here,” Yoongi calls from the kitchen, and you peek your head around the corner to see him standing at the counter awkwardly, looking as if he just tumbled out of bed in his white shirt and grey sweats. “H-how was work?”

“Was okay,” you take a few steps closer so that only the dining table separates you now. “I lied, actually. I didn’t have work. I just saw Hoseok because he needed help with his thesis.”

“Oh.” His single word punctuates the tension fraught atmosphere between the two of you, and ever since you stepped into this kitchen, you’ve yet to make eye contact with him.

But as your eyes slowly cross the span of the kitchen to his figure, you realise that he’s preoccupied with something on the counter- and you realise that it looks like cake batter. 

“A-are you baking?” You exclaim incredulously, and Yoongi’s head immediately whips around.

“Had some leftover eggs in the fridge that needed to be used up,” he says by means of explanation, and at that moment, you can’t help but burst into laughter.

“So you decided to bake an entire cake?” Your words are a little muffled by your hand covering your mouth. “Instead of something like… I don’t know, an omelette or scrambled eggs?”

“Hey, cakes are nice,” Yoongi crosses his arms in defense, somehow managing to get cake batter on his cheek. “Omelettes are nasty, and scrambled eggs are breakfast, and it’s already almost dinner.”

“But still-“

“And besides, you love cake.”

His words stop you short, and your eyes lock onto his from across the kitchen: messy blonde hair held back by a red bandana, batter smeared on one cheek, flour stains on his grey sweats and fidgeting a little under your gaze. He can’t meet your eyes except for tiny little sneaky glances, and that’s when you realise: Min Yoongi is truly nervous, and you’ve never seen him like this before.

“D-do you really want to?” You whisper across the span of the kitchen. “Do you really want to have a baby with me?” 

And Yoongi is all sorts of anxious and vulnerable right now- he’s not used to having such direct confrontations nor does he want to be turned down by the girl he loves twice in a row, but you deserve nothing less than a man who can stand by his word.

“Yes, I want to.”

“B-but we’re not married.” The thought suddenly comes to you in a rush of breath, and Yoongi’s own breath hitches in his chest.

“We could get married, if that’s what you want,” he offers casually, pretending as if his heart isn’t racing a million miles a minute by now, but your expression is still unreadable. He goes back to stirring the cake batter, already mentally searching for friends he can crash with for the night while he figures out alternative living plans and-

“Okay.”

Yoongi’s eyes widen, he nearly drops the whisk into the lumpy vanilla batter. “Wh-what?”

“I said okay,” you offer him a tentative smile, watching as he slowly glances up from the humongous mixing bowl in front of him.

And then in the blink of an eye, he’s striding across the room and his sticky hands are on your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. That’s when you realise he’s probably been sampling the cake batter all along, but the milky sweetness on his tongue draws you in even more as you wrap your arms around his waist tight.

“Y-you really shouldn’t eat cake batter, you know,” you gasp into his mouth as he pulls away, intent on exploring the curve of your neck. “Raw eggs are bad for you.”

“The only eggs I can think about right now are yours,” he flashes you a gummy little smile, all too aware that it was a cringeworthy line, but he doesn’t give a fuck even if you laugh at him because that sound is the most precious thing he’s ever heard, and he’d give anything just to hear it again. “And the only kind of batter you should be talking about is my baby batter.”

You can only express your disgust by slapping him on the chest, pretending to scowl in irritation before you give in to his persistent kisses and attempts to lift your shirt up. His hands skim over your belly as he pulls you in close, leading you to his room in an awkward backward walk.

“Sh-shouldn’t you get down on one knee and propose first? I don’t think that was a proper proposal-ah!” Yoongi pulls down one side of your bra and has taken your nipple into his mouth, but glances up at you when you say this.

“I’ll do you one better, I’ll get on down on both knees and eat you out instead, how about that” Yoongi smirks, ever the smart mouth, but your protests are silenced when he really does kneel down and unbutton your jeans. He places a hand on your stomach to push you back gently, encouraging you to sit on the foot of the bed as he peels away your pants and underwear.

“I’m not wet yet,” you say in slight mortification, attempting to close your legs to stop him. “A-and I didn’t shave, Yoongi, you don’t have to-“

Yoongi tsks in disapproval, reprimanding you with just a single glance that makes your thighs fall apart for him again. “Does it look like I give a fuck?”

And then his tongue is lapping away at your center, hair and all, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever done. Yoongi has his fingers on your labia, spreading them apart as he laves his tongue around your clit in gentle circles, avoiding direct contact with it since he knows you’re extra sensitive if you’re not warmed up yet. The warm softness of his tongue slides down to your slit a moment later, and you belatedly realise that you’re already wetter than you thought. As he gives your slit tiny little kitten licks, he rubs two fingers on either side of your clit, in a manner that has your hips bucking up into his face in mere seconds.

“Yoongi, ah- fuck, right there.” His tongue teases your entrance a few times before he’s licking up every drop of your arousal, switching to open mouthed kisses as he practically devours your pussy.

A glance downwards reveals his cheeks and chin absolutely coated in your wetness, and the fact that he doesn’t even mind makes you want to grind into his face. Yoongi switches it up by attaching his lips to your clit as he slides two fingers deep into you, and you whine your appreciation for his attention to detail even as you reach down to grab his hair.

“Y-yoongi, don’t wanna cum like this,” you pant out in desperation as he increases the pace of his fingers. “Wanna cum around your cock instead.”

But Yoongi is unfazed, and he doesn’t let up on his pace, only withdrawing briefly to kiss your inner thigh. “Plenty of time for that princess, just come on my tongue first.”

And with that he’s back to toying with your clit with the tip of his tongue, alternating between flat licks and teasing circles, and with a faint gasp of his name, you tighten around his fingers and gush all over his willing tongue.

Yoongi laps everything up, cleaning your pussy with fervour as he helps you come down from your high with slow strokes of his fingers. You lay there boneless for a minute, trying to regain your energy when he slides his arm around your waist, readjusting you so that your entire body is on the bed.

“How was that for a proposal?” He looks mighty pleased with himself, and you have to admit that no one’s ever eaten you out that good before.

“Was okay,” you shrug, giving him an unimpressed smile just to rile him up. “Still want my ring though.”

“Greedy minx,” he shoots back, but he can’t help but grin at how satisfied you look.

“You won’t be calling me greedy after this,” you turn toward him and push yourself onto your knees, reaching for the waistband of his sweats.

Your hand slides over his bulge, giving him a gentle squeeze as he raises an eyebrow with interest. When you tug on his sweats, he lifts his hips to help you with them, and you push them to his ankles before your hand is around the base of his cock, stroking him with deft flicks of your wrist.

Precum is already bubbling at the head, and you use it to make your strokes even messier. You lower yourself so that you can tease your tongue at his base, licking a thick stripe up as he breathes heavily. His balls are full and round, and you can’t resist but to take one of them in your mouth, being careful of your teeth as you roll the other one in your palm, looking up at him for approval.

“That’s Daddy’s good girl,” he barely manages to get his words out, especially when you scatter small kisses over his length, and pop the tip of his cock in your mouth and suckle at him. Your tongue teases his head as you drool over his cock, and Yoongi swears you’ve never looked more beautiful than right this moment when you’re worshipping his cock.

The way you suckle on his tip, glancing up at him innocently with those wide eyes is rapidly undoing him.

“Your cock is so good Daddy,” you drag his dripping tip all over your cheeks, letting his precum stain your face, and Yoongi groans.

Just as you’re about to lower your lips to take him in to his base, he stops you with a hand on your cheek.

“Later, wanna fuck you now,” Yoongi says as he sits up, reaching for your waist to tug you into the position he desires. When you whine in protest, wanting to taste his saltiness in your mouth, he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek instead. “You can suck me off to get me ready for round 2 later.”

“Who said I was giving you a round 2?” You let Yoongi ease you onto your back, and your legs immediately spread wide for him, raising your knees to your chest to show him your dripping slit.

His mental faculties are at a loss at the sight of your glistening pussy, dipping his fingers in your arousal to stroke you gently. “Gotta go a few rounds to make sure you’re pregnant, did you forget that?”

And with that his hand is back around his cock, stroking leisurely as he lets his head tease your clit, sliding back and forth through your drenched lips. His tip catches on your entrance a few times, but he refuses to just slide all the way in, and you reach for his thighs in frustration.

“Want your cock now, don’t tease please,” you try and angle your hips up to get him to slide in, but he only dances his fingers over your drenched slit a few more times in response.

“Daddy has to make your pussy gush before he can fuck you, baby,” he grinds his palm over your clit, satisfied when it makes a squelching sound. “That’s more like it.”

“It’s so sticky, Daddy,” you grin up at him, watching as strings of your arousal cling to his cock.

“Daddy’s about to make it a lot stickier.” And with that, he slides in balls deep, and it’s always that first thrust that feels the best, the firm hardness of his cock spreading your walls wide, as he gives you a few practice thrusts.

“You feel so good,” you grab his hips to urge him on even deeper as he begins to pick up the pace. Yoongi hitches your legs around his hips as he begins to sink into your pussy faster, watching his cock disappear into your slick depths.

The feeling of your walls, hot and bare around him has his balls clenching already, and it’s made worse when you reach down to fondle him with both hands.

“Daddy’s balls feel so full,” you whisper in fascination as you squeeze them very gently, feeling the weight of them in your hand. “Looks like daddy has a big load for me today?”

“Daddy has a huge load,” Yoongi assures you as he rams his cock deeper, feeling your walls clench around him. “And it’s all yours, princess.”

He pushes your thighs tight against your chest, and your pussy squeezes hard around him even as he works his hips faster and faster, feeling your arousal drip out all over his balls. Skin is slapping against skin, and he’s just about ready to blow his load deep inside you where it belongs. He doesn’t even know if you’re fertile or not, but it doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you’re here and under him, so willing and eager for his seed.

You slide your arms around his neck, bringing his lips closer as you feel the white hot electricity slide down your spine and congregate in your belly. “I’m so close, please, want your cum Yoongi, wanna have your baby.”

The way you drop the name play isn’t unnoticed by Yoongi, and he appreciates this reminder of reality that this is really happening, his dream girl is really letting him get her pregnant, and his cock throbs in anticipation of the huge load that’s churning in his balls.

“Yeah? Want my cum? Gonna fill you up so good you’ll be dripping for days, you love having a pussy full of cum don’t you? Good girls always go to sleep with a fresh load of cum deep inside.” Yoongi can’t help the filth that’s spewing from his lips as he tilts your hips up for him, pushing himself into a squatting position so he can make sure gravity is on his side. Every thrust has his balls slapping against your clit as the head of his cock brushes your cervix repeatedly. “You want to cum, princess?”

“Yes, Yoongi, please,” you bite your lip hard as he’s practically on top of you, his thrusts hitting you so deep right where you need him.

“Mmhm, only if I can knock you up, baby.” Yoongi is desperate to hear those words from your lips again, if only to reassure himself that this is his reality now. 

“Do it, I want it so bad, want you to give me a baby,” you whine as he pushes your thighs down with his weight, and his thrusts are becoming messy and sloppy as he grunts and pants into your ear, and it’s the hottest sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, gonna cum, fill you up so full,” Yoongi can barely manage a last warning as he shoves in deep and he explodes deep inside you, flooding you with warm cum. Just as he’s coming, he releases your thighs from his grip only to press a hand on your lower belly, feeling the exact spot where you’ll be swollen and full of his baby.

You can feel the way his length twitches inside you as he fills you up, and his cum is so warm reaching down to cup his balls again, you’re fascinating with the way they pulse as he continues to drench your womb with semen, Yoongi even gives you a few thrusts in response.

When he’s stopped spurting inside you, he pulls out carefully, making sure none of his cum spills out by supporting your ass with a pillow he hastily drags over. It’s then that he parts your lips and gives your clit a few rough licks, which is all the attention you need for your walls to clench tightly around nothing, and you arch your hips up as your muscles tremble and shake.

“Fuck, you took my cum so well, sucked it all up like a good girl,” Yoongi kisses your inner thighs before he strokes the slight swell of your belly, admiring how swollen your pussy looks from his vantage point between your legs. “I hope that was it.”

His hand is flat on your belly, and he looks really hopeful that you almost don’t want to burst his bubble.

“Um, Yoongi, I don’t think I’m ovulating.” You bite your lip as you watch him stick out his lower lip in a pout.

“Could have told me this before I went all sappy on you like that.” Yoongi withdraws his hand from your stomach, and you grin at him as he crawls back up the length of your body.  His tone is vaguely annoyed, but you know it’s all just for show especially when he reaches for your hand and slips his palm against yours as he tucks his body behind you. “Wait, does this mean you’re off the pill now? And that time you told me you ‘forgot’ too?”

You shrug nonchalantly. “Yeah, I went off it since I asked you to get me birth control.”

“Fuck, so that time we were actually risking it?” He breaths out harshly against your skin. “God. I can’t believe you.”

“I mean, it’s not like anything happened, I wasn’t ovulating then. I know when it’s safe, believe it or not, Min Yoongi.”

He only shrugs as he slides his arms round to your front, spooning you as he pushes his nose into the curve of your neck. Yoongi has his palm on the smooth skin of your lower belly. “Sperm can live in the body for up to five days… so this could still be it.”  

“Anyway, I think I’ll have to fuck you a few more times, just to be sure.”

[ofheroesandvillains]

Playing To Lose (3) - Bucky Barnes

Well...it sure has been a while since I posted. Uni has been hectic but that’s no excuse! I hope you guys can forgive me, and enjoy this update! This one is for @whatimreadingrnatm - ask and you shall receive! 

Words: 2.7k Warnings: None, AU! Summary: Bucky being Bucky, reader having none of it! And meet your new best friend! 

(gif not mine!)

The office was chaotic.

This was your busiest day yet, and after 2 weeks of being in charge you knew it would only get worse from here on out. Maria was glued to the phone, taking call after call. There had been an incident on site in Moscow, a worker who had accidentally dropped $800,000 worth of glass for the windows.

It was an unfortunate accident, but there was little that could be done about it. They’d need to clean up, order more, and not let it happen again. But all of a sudden a million people were calling in to question safe working practices and the OH&S team was driving you crazy. To make matters worse, the one person you needed in this situation had decided to not show up.

James had been surprisingly helpful in the last few days, and you had to admit that while it made you awfully suspicious, it was a nice change. He’d actually arrive to work on time, get all of his work done, and even offer to help out if he noticed that you were especially busy on a particular day.

You should have known it wouldn’t last.

“Where the hell is Barnes?!”

Everyone bustling about the office seemed to come to a halt, and Maria’s eyes widened a fraction when she noted just how angry you were. It was a rare sight, it took a lot to get you this angry usually. But after raising your expectations, and showing you the he really was capable -that he wasn’t a lost cause where running the company was concerned- James crushed whatever hope you had for him. Maybe that’s why it made you so angry…you knew he could do better, so why couldn’t he just try?

“He-He hasn’t come in yet, ma’am.”

The whole room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see how you’d respond. It was already 1pm, and Bucky was supposed to start at 9am. Despite the reading you had done, you had no real experience with the company prior to your appointment 2 weeks ago. The most suited person to help you in this situation was god only knows where, and you were not happy about that fact. How did he expect you to take him seriously if he couldn’t even come to work on time?

Had it not been for Loki, you would have torn someone’s head off hours ago. The man had a way with words and you were impressed by how easily he dealt with all the questions and concerns thrown the company’s way. Not for the first time did you inwardly delight in having hired him.

“Maria? You’re in charge, I’m heading out. I’ll be back in 20.”

“What do you mean, you can’t make it? You promised!”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as your driver pulled up at a red light. “I know, I know I did and I’m really sorry about this. You know I wouldn’t cancel if it wasn’t important.”

Wanda’s shoulders slumped in defeat, not that you could see them on the other end of the phone. The fact of the matter was, that your plans to go out for drinks for the first time since your return to New York, had been trampled the moment you stepped foot into work that morning.

“You know, my brother was looking forward to seeing you…”

You chuckled half-heartedly at her attempt to persuade you, but you knew that work took first priority. Pietro was your ex, someone you still remained friends with, despite the worldwide belief that exes couldn’t do such a thing. Was there casual sex in the deal? Well, sure…but that didn’t mean it was anything more or less than friendship between you.

“Yeah, well…he can see me next weekend instead.” You paused for a moment, your small smile dropping. “I really am sorry, Wanda. I know how long we’ve been planning this, but James didn’t bother showing up this morning so I gotta go drag his ass out of bed.”

“James? The Barnes guy?”

“The Barnes guy.” You confirmed with a nod.

Wanda snorted on the other side of the phone. “Why do you have to drag him out of bed?”

“Because he’s an asshole.” You automatically shot back, but felt a little guilty - he wasn’t that bad, you just weren’t in the mood for him today. 

“No, it’s just…he’s irresponsible. He doesn’t show up to work on time, and when things go wrong he’s nowhere to be found.” You shook your head in exasperation. “I just don’t get why someone who wants to be in charge so bad, acts like he couldn’t care less about the company.”

Wanda hummed in thought. “The kids in my class sometimes act out when they want attention, or when things aren’t going their way…”

You scoffed, but allowed an amused smile to settle on your lips. “Okay, he’s not that much of a man-child.”

“You’d be surprised at how much men and children have in common.” You both laughed at that.

“Yeah, you might be onto something.” You watched the streets go by, and knew you were nearing your destination. “I don’t know, I guess I’ll talk to him about it and figure all of this out.”

“That’s a good idea, who knows? You might even become friends.”

You rolled your eyes at her optimism. “Yeah, and maybe if I’m really lucky, we can braid each other’s hair and talk about boys!”

Wanda laughed. “You’re in a bad mood today.”

You sighed. “I know. I might leave that chat for tomorrow, or I’ll tear his head off.”

The car came to a slow halt and you knew your time was up. “Hey listen, I gotta go, but I’ll call you later.”

With a final farewell, Wanda finished up her lunch break, and you braced yourself for your journey into the unknown. You didn’t know what to expect when you entered James Barnes’ man-cave, but you knew it couldn’t be good.

Bucky woke up with a loud gasp, eyes wide as they darted around his surroundings frantically. He hadn’t even noticed his latest conquest screeching beside him when his pale gaze found the unimpressed glower of his boss. It took him a moment to realise what had happened. The empty vase you were placing on his bedside table, the cold water soaking through his sheets and all over him and the blonde beside him-Cassie? Casey? Carey?

“What the hell?!” 


Whatever her name was, she was making a racket. Bucky groaned at the shrill sound of her voice. He was certain she hadn’t sounded like that the previous night, or maybe he just hadn’t really cared enough at the time to notice.

You weren’t fazed in the slightest. You couldn’t care less that James and his latest floozie were butt-naked underneath that thin sheet, and you definitely couldn’t care less that said floozie was losing her damn mind about a little water. Why? Because you weren’t George, you weren’t going to baby the man-child that was James Buchanan Barnes like his father did, and you definitely weren’t going to let him get away with insubordination just because of his last name. Your anger came rushing back as soon as you stepped foot inside his penthouse.

He was late, no, he was beyond late. People were depending on him to get his work done, and now they were a day behind schedule already, just because he thought he could get away with doing whatever he wanted. Well, he was in for one hell of a surprise if he thought that was the case.

“You know, it’s funny. I walked into work today with high hopes for you, thinking it’d all be smooth sailing, that you’d actually live up to the expectation tied to your name…but here we are.”

The blonde’s jaw dropped open in outrage on Bucky’s behalf.

“Excuse me? Who do you think you a-”

“Y/N Stark. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but after the first three, I really couldn’t care less about meeting another name on the long list of conquests that James here has.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched in a mix of embarrassment and even pity for the woman beside him, but his head was still pounding from both his hangover and the shrill screams he had woken up to. He would have kicked her out eventually, but he wouldn’t have been that harsh about it. She had tried to defend him after all, but you were out for blood and he had no doubt that he was next on your hit list as soon as Carey (?) left.

She looked at him, checking to see if he would come to her defence as she had for him. She scoffed when he remained silent, eyes slipping shut as his head thunked back on the headboard.  

Your glare remained on James, pointedly ignoring the blonde who had angrily thrown the sheets off of herself and snatched her clothes up before storming out of the bedroom.

“You know, that was awfully rude, doll.” He spoke up for the first time, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You didn’t reply, but he let his eyes ease open when he heard footsteps approaching. You sat on the edge of his bed, and he cocked a curious brow. He almost smirked when he saw the gentle expression on your face, a dozen flirty comments running through his head as he thought that maybe, just maybe he would get away with it this one time.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.”

His pulse raced at the almost breathy tone your words had adopted, and he almost jumped out of his skin the moment a soft hand came to rest on his forearm. Bucky’s eyes dropped down to your lower lip -the same one you were biting gently- and was it just him, or were you getting closer?

Your fingers lightly drummed against his arm as you leaned closer to him. He was tense with anticipation, it wasn’t too obvious, but his eyes gave him away. Pupils dilated and flickering between the fingers on his forearms and the buttons of the tight shirt straining against your chest. He was lucky that your eyes were on his own and not lower, while he didn’t mind you seeing the effect you had on him in the moment, it would probably come back to bite him later.

“Sometimes I just can’t control myself…”

Fuck.

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath, but he didn’t care what he sounded like as long as your fingers continued gliding up and down his arm. You hummed with a knowing smile, leaning closer.

“And seeing as this is the only way you’ll actually pay attention to what I’m saying, listen and listen well, sweetheart.” Your soft tone remained, but god, you weren’t wrong. He’d give you his undivided attention if it meant hearing that voice. Damn, that voice was something he would be replaying in his head over and over again, he was sure of it.

“The next time you decide that your wants are more important than your company’s needs, don’t bother coming in at all.” Your breath ghosted over is lips teasingly, and it took every ounce of restraint in his body to not take what he wanted right then and there.

“I’ll take it as an immediate resignation.” You pulled away suddenly, your previously seductive expression melting away into the usual indifference, and cold air replacing the warmth of your hand.

And just like that, the spell was broken and Bucky’s brows furrowed as he blinked rapidly out of his stupor.

“Now get your ass out of bed. You owe me five extra hours of work today so get ready for a late night, Barnes.”

Bucky watched your hips as you sashayed out of his bedroom, groaning audibly the moment he noticed his new problem. Even another vase full of water wouldn’t be enough, this time he needed a cold shower for sure.

You weren’t kidding when you had told him he’d be in for a late night. It was already 10pm and Bucky could feel his eyes drooping as they tried to focus on the computer screen in front of him. Usually he was at the bar by this time, well into his third round of drinks, but he couldn’t even think about anything but sleep after the day he’d had.

On the bright side, he’d managed to fix things up over in Moscow. He wouldn’t admit it, but Loki had done a good job of keeping OH&S happy, so it gave him time to focus on everything else.

Dragging a hand over his weary face, Bucky realised just how quiet the building was. Everyone had long since left to go home, well…everyone except for you. He had to give it to you, you really didn’t half-ass your job. You’d spent the whole day taking calls and fixing a mess that had occurred halfway across the world. But he also noticed that it had gone eerily silent in the whole building, including your office.

Bucky’s brows furrowed and he pushed himself up and out of his seat. Straightening his suit, he quietly made his way to your door. It was open enough to let him poke his head in. He opened his mouth to call out to you, but paused as soon as he saw the scene before him.

Apparently he wasn’t the only one who was dead tired. Bucky’s eyes softened when he saw your sleeping form slouched over your desk. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, and he took a moment to really look at you. The conflicting feelings he had where you were involved often made him forget that you were only human at the end of the day. But seeing you as you were now, reminded him that you were just a woman doing the best you could do. You weren’t immune to the pressure and you weren’t a machine.

Bucky slowly made his way over to your desk, gently giving your shoulder a shake. You stirred in your sleep, face scrunching up in irritation. He was wary, knowing how angry you had been with him earlier in the day. It wasn’t his intention to be so late to work, but your temper had ensured that he stayed well away for the rest of the day.

“Y/N?”

He felt a small smile settle on his face when you frowned sleepily and turned your head away from him.

“Mmm…no.”

Bucky sighed. Even when you were half asleep you were still in charge apparently.

“Y/N…come on, you need to go home and get some sleep.” He quietly pleaded.

“Nnngghh…no.” You groaned, barely hearing a word he said.

Bucky’s jaw clenched the way it always did when he was determined, not that you could see it anyway.

He was almost certain you had fallen back asleep, the lack of protest when he gently scooped you out of your office chair told him as much. Bucky swallowed dryly when your face burrowed into the crook of his neck but he tried to ignore the sensation.

Leaving the office with a woman in his arms would send the paparazzi into a frenzy - and he knew you wouldn’t appreciate all the crap they’d post in their articles if you were identified. So the couch would have to do.

After easing you onto the couch, he gently slid off your heels, smiling at the way you curled up to get comfy.

Bucky sighed.

It was moments like these that made the guilt hit him full force. She’s a good person, she doesn’t deserve…no. No, he couldn’t let a pretty face sway his resolve. You may have been a good person but you weren’t good for the company. You rejected his ideas and you were hiring people like Loki Odinson. It didn’t matter how hard you worked if all your time was invested in making the wrong decisions.

It’s for the best.

He needed to believe it. He needed to remember that you were a rival, a rival he didn’t want to have, but a rival nonetheless.

That didn’t stop him from shrugging out of his blazer and gently laying it over your sleeping form before he left. Nor did it stop the small smile spreading across his face when you clutched the expensive material tighter.

[kpopthings]

La La Land

genre: fluff

pairing: xu minghao x reader

synopsis: minghao kept his promise. he stayed beside you like how he said he would.

words: 2.1k

closed

The first time you saw him was in a small vineyard, the colors of grapes varrying from red, purple and green, the sky being a rich blue with not a single cloud to taint it. The grass looked greener than normal with an aroma that almost made you feel at ease. And somehow you found yourself so drawn to the place that you didn't realise it was a dream.

"Hello there," the voice almost made you jump, your eyes darting from the scenery to the boy standing behind you, a chuckle resonating from his lips, "sorry if I scared you there."

You looked at him curiously before looking back at the view. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

You nodded your head, "is it yours?"

He shook his head in response, "nope, I just woke up here like you did."

"Do you know how we got here?" Again, he didn't.

"Do you thi-"

"Now enough of the questions," he cut you off, placing his hands on your shoulders to stop your anxiety, "the sun is out, the view is nice! how about we go do some exploring?" You looked at him skeptically, suspicious of his intentions, "I'm not a serial killer if that's what you're thinking," his hands then went to each of your hands, "Now come on, Let's go have some fun!"

You stayed back a bit, weighing down the pros and cons as you pressed your heels down the ground. Seeing your hesitancy, the boy's gaze softened a bit.

"Or we could stay here if you want," he said, smiling as he let his hands fall to his sides, standing right beside you, showing you that he won't leave you behind. You smiled at the gesture before nodding. A small whoop of joy escaped his lips as he took your hand excitedly, leading you through the vineyard. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Y-yeah," you replied timidly, watching your steps cautiously while the strange boy continued leading you, the grin never leaving his face as he walked. He stopped by one of the hedges, taking out some grapes before handing them to you.

"They're delicious, try some!" You looked down at the small violet spheres before popping them in your mouth. The sweetness melting in your tongue, a sound of satisfaction escaping your lips as you ate the other. "They're good, right?"

You hummed in response, sighing to yourself as you looked at the sky. The sun becoming brighter than normal as you shielded your eyes with your hand.

-

You groaned as your eyes fluttered open, a ray of sunlight peeking out your curtains as you sat up. Your body not being able to sleep again as you checked the time. Exactly two hours before uni starts. Another groan escaped your lips at the thought of the day ahead.

Great, just great.

-

You returned back home at around 9pm, your back aching due to slouching for the whole day, and the fact that you had to carry boxes  in work didn't help you that much. Not to mention the essays and projects you need to start. You grumbled under your breath as you sat down your couch, pen in hand before writing away.

You were done at around 11pm, your hand aching as you decided to call it a day. Body automatically slumping down the warm mattress of your bed as you curl up under your blanket. Your mind drifting to a dream as you sighed in contentment.

-

You found yourself in some sort of spaceship, your body floating on air while you examined your surroundings. A bunk bed sitting on one corner, a book shelf on another with a strap to hold everything in place, splatters of red and blue paint floated by you in blobs as a medium sized canvas lay by one side with a few brushes hovering beside it. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion as a blob of paint flew towards you, your finger coming in contact with it before it divided into two. While being too preoccupied with the paint, the air suddenly felt heavier and your body began to fall, coming in contact with the ground as the door opened.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" A voice said as someone walked closer to you, helping you sit up while you rubbed the back of your head. "If I knew you were awake I should've warned you."

As you stood up, you looked down on the floor to see the paint splatters now taking place on the floor.

"Sorry about that, I was painting something when the gravity thingy kind of malfunctioned for a bit."

"Where are we?" You asked.

"Right," you heard him say, "from the looks of it we're in some kind of a spaceship."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Now now, there is no need for sarcasm, I just told you what I know," he said. "My name's Minghao by the way," he stretched his arm out for you, "what's yours?"

"Y/n," you said curtly, taking his hand in yours as you shook it.

"I didn't caught your name before," he thought out loud while nodding to himself, "you kind of disappeared before I had the chance of asking."

"Well it's nice to meet you Minghao," you said.

"You too, y/n," he replied back, smiling at you. His hand left yours as the both of you just looked at each other, "Want to see what I'm painting?"

-

So far, life has been quite shit. You almost failed a test in one of your subjects if it wasn't small bonus points saving your sorry ass you'd be getting extra classes. Your parents weren't helping either, them constantly pressuring you into getting a job after uni and nagging you about your grades. It was suffocating, you prayed that one day everything will just end. And so you always looked forward to night time. The chance to be able to see Minghao again made your heart flutter and your shoulders to seem a bit lighter. You hoped for each night, awaiting another adventure with the black haired boy, whether it may be travelling in a pirate ship or flying across the universe. Every moment made you keep fighting, going through the whole day knowing you'd have something to come home to every night.

He became your rock, a beacon to your slowly sinking life, he became one of the only things you fight to live for.

-

"So, what's our plan for today?" You asked, seeing yourself in an island with Minghao sitting beside you.

"Stranded," he answered simply, "today we are stranded." He kicked a bark of wood before standing up from the sand. "We should probably explore the island, see what we're dealing with here."

You nodded your head at his suggestion, following behind him as he led the way deeper into the trees. You felt the air become more humid as you stopped by a clearing. Your heart becoming heavier as you saw the small tree house on one of the trees. It was something you use to have, buried deep in your memories as the thought of it haunted you. It reminded you so much of who you use to be. The feeling of nostalgia overwhelmed your whole being as memories of you staying in there made your head feel slightly dizzy.

"Let's go inside," Minghao said, pulling you to his side. Your feet feeling like jelly as he continued to tug on your arm. "Are you okay?"

Snapping out of your daze, you nod back in reply, slowly walking towards Minghao hesitantly before he helped you climb the ladder. Once you reached the top, you couldn't help but let your eyes wander around the small space. Old knick knacks scattered around the shelves, eyes travelling down the small figurines you use to make, the old children's books you use to read were stacked up in their own little corner with the paintings you use to make stuck to the wall. The pictures looking like indefinite shapes and creatures, you stared at them in wonder, eyes scanning the pictures and wondering where the years have gone.

"You have so much to live for, you know?" Minghao's voice startled you, making you turn to him as he smiled at you. "You have so much to offer to the world, you just don't know it yet."

"What are you talking about?" You asked.

"Everything, you can't sleep forever y/n. The real world isn't in here, it's out there," he pointed towards the window, showing you snippets of memories of your achievements. That time you won first place at an art contest where you got your first medal, when you graduated highschool, when you passed your tests, it was all being shown. "Your body is slowly going down and I am here to give you a choice, stay here with me or go back to the real world, to your life." Minghao stated, making you even more confused.

"I don't know what you're saying," you said, looking down in confusion.

"I know what you've been doing y/n, it's not healthy, you shouldn't force your body to sleep with those pills, it's not okay for you. Now you have to choose," he said. "As much as I'd like it if you stay with me, I can't be that selfish. This isn't your world."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

"It's okay, the real world is a mess and I'd be fine with whatever you choose." He stated, looking at your eyes with the same softness he gave you since the first dream. "If you choose to stay we could go horseback riding with some unicorns, or visit the planet Mars and meet some cool martians." He gave you a smile, it looked so gentle it made you want to stay. "And if you choose to leave, that's okay, I'd get to watch you conquer the world and just amaze everyone with just being yourself, something only you could do."

"But I won't get to see you again," you croaked out as Minghao slightly shook his head.

"No, you won't... But I'd get to see you, I'll be cheering you on from the sidelines when you finally achieve your dreams." Minghao wiped off some of the stray tears that escaped your eyes with his thumb, his palm resting on your cheek, "you have a lot to offer the world, y/n." He said, standing beside you like he did back in the vineyard when you first met, "I'll be right here."

You sighed, trying to calm your breathing as small sobs escaped your lips, "I guess it's best if I go then."

Minghao gave you a proud smile, "that's my girl."

He helped you climb down the small house, walking you deeper in the forest before you stopped by the other side of the island. A small plane was there waiting for you. He settled you down the pilot seat, putting the seatbelt on as he stepped back.

"I don't know how to drive a plane," you said before he could shut the door.

He chuckled at your cautiousness, "this is a dream, I'm pretty sure you'll figure it out." As he closed the door, the plane began to roar in life as it began to hover up the ground.

You saw Minghao take a step back, waving his hand up the air as you silently said goodbye. The island slowly turning into ashes.

-

You woke up with a heavy feeling sitting on your chest, the ends of your hair sticking to your forehead due to sweat as you turned to your clock, an hour before uni starts so you quickly changed out of your pyjamas to a casual outfit. You decided to head to the cafe one of your friends work at to help you start the day.

"You looked horrible," Jun said, greeting you by the counter.

"Had a bad dream," you answered simply.

"Wanna talk about it?" He cooed, making you scrunch up your nose.

"Just give me some coffee," you said.

"Okay, by the way want to meet my new friend?" Jun said excitedly, making you look at him weirdly.

"It's six am, my social skills don't work until lunch."

The boy only shook his head, "nope you need more friends." He stated sternly, "Now come on, he isn't that bad." He practically pulled you over the counter and led you to the breakroom where someone was sitting by one of the tables doodling on a piece of paper. "Hey loser, I want you to meet someone!"

Once you saw who it was, you couldn't help but smile in joy, taking his hand in yours as you introduced yourselves to one another.

Minghao kept his promise. He stayed beside you like how he said.

[captainmarvels]

wicked games [12]

Summary: Valentine’s Day has always been the last thing on Tom’s mind. Is there anyway you can change that?

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: dry humping, [minor] daddy kink

Word Count: 4,100

A/N: this fic’s timeline is set in 2018 but is ahead of current time lmao, so enjoy this as an early v-day gift from me to you! see you next week, xx

series masterlist

Nothing good ever happens on a Monday.

Well, usually.

But this Monday in particular, you were excited. The new interns Harrison and Tom’s brothers had picked out for this semester would be having their first day, and Tom had, of course, put you in charge of showing them the ropes.

“Don’t abuse them, okay?” You nearly choked on your cereal as you met Tom’s gaze from across the table.

“Abuse them? You make it sound like I’m some monster, Jesus,” you scoffed, shaking your head as you took in another spoonful. He rolled his eyes as he set his phone down.

“You know that’s not what I meant, baby. I just need you to not scare them is all. I’ve heard more than enough of what’s been running through the rumor mill about the internship, so I want everything to go smoothly. That’s why I left them in your ever so capable hands,” He made an emphasis on that by taking your free hand in his, flashing you a grin. You raised an eyebrow and let out a sigh.

“Fine. Are you staying for lunch today or will I be on my own?” You asked as you finished the last of your breakfast.

“I have a meeting in Queens at that time, but Harrison will be there. The two of you have hit it off quite well, might I add,” You laughed lightly, shaking your head as you got up and took your bowl to the sink.

“Sounds like someone’s jealous,” You teased, giggling when Tom looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Last time I checked,” He rose from the table and made his way over, pulling you into his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist. “... you were mine.”

You bit your lip at his words, slowly nodding as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Believe me darling, I couldn’t be more thrilled that the two of you are getting along so well. I need someone to keep that annoying bug entertained,” He smiled as he stroked your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Oh my god, are you just using me?” You gasped, playfully pushing him back, only for him to chuckle and tighten his grip on your waist.

“I could never, love. Now let’s go, we’re going to be late,” He pulled away and guided you towards the door. After he opened it, he followed you out and slapped your ass.

You glanced back and stuck your tongue out at him. He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t tease; I’ll put that mouth to work, princess.”

———————————————————————

The interns were mildly pleasing; they didn’t ask too many questions, and they seemed to have a good amount of self-confidence. You gave them an impersonal tour of the office floors, showing them their area and the location of the break rooms.

Just as you were wrapping up your final mini-presentation, Tom walked into the conference room. You flashed him a small smile, stepping to the side so he could stand at the head of the table. He shook his head and motioned for you to stand next to him as he addressed the group.

“I thought I’d introduce myself, considering you’ll all be working for me, more or less. Welcome to the office, ladies and gentlemen.” He smiled, slyly resting his hand on the small of your back as he spoke. “I hope Y/N was helpful with any questions you may have had,”

The group seemed to be awestruck, slowly nodding as they stared at him. You had to stifle a giggle when you noticed a few of the girls in the back growing flustered. Tom seemed to have followed your gaze because a low chuckle escaped him before he cleared his throat.

“Well, I’m Mr. Holland, clearly. You’re all here because you’ve demonstrated you’re more than capable of handling whatever life may throw at you, and that’s the kind of people I need working here. I need to steal Y/N for a moment, but she’ll back with your first assignments soon.”

Everyone answered in a chorus of ‘yes, sir,’ as the two of you walked out together, Tom dropping his hand the second he moved away from the table. Once you were in his office, he shut the door and locked it.

“So, how did it go?” He met your gaze from across the room; you were sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair.

“Fine; a lot more girls than I was expecting to see, if I’m being honest,” You smiled as he walked over, his hand reaching out for you. You took it once he stood before you, standing up as he took a step back.

“Am I sensing a bit of jealousy, darling?” He smirked, quirking an eyebrow as he looked at you.

“What? No,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as he let go of your hand and rested his on your waist. He chuckled at your response, shaking his head.

“That was very convincing,” He whispered, grinning as he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“Care to tell me why you brought me in here?” You cupped his jaw as he gently pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I was going to suggest a bit more kissing, but I did promise I’d return you to your faithful interns,”

“Thought they were yours, boss?” You giggled when Tom opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Funny. One kiss and then I’m kicking you out - you distract me too much, love.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” You quipped, resting a hand on the back of his neck while the other moved into his hair. He grunted when you gave his curls a quick tug, his grip on your hips tightening before he finally captured your lips with his.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, seeking entrance that you readily gave as you whined into the kiss. One of his hands dropped to your ass, gently squeezing it as your mouths moved in sync, his tongue dancing with yours.

You pulled on his hair the second his teeth sank into your bottom lip, gently tugging it before pulling away and slipping his tongue back in your mouth. He groaned quietly when you scratched the back of his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

When you felt something slightly hard pressing against your hip as he pushed you against his chest, you smiled into the kiss. Tom reluctantly pulled away, chest heaving slightly as he dropped his head to your shoulder.

“Got a little excited there, didn’t we?” You asked as you stroked his back, still smiling with shameless pride. His lips were resting against your neck, his breath hot on your skin.

“I would blame you, but it really is my fault, I suppose,” He muttered. His hand squeezed your ass once more before he stood up straight, moving them back to your waist.

“You’re such a boy, my God,” You rolled your eyes when he laughed, shrugging.

“You drive me crazy, darling. Now go boss around those interns before I end up keeping you here for the rest of the day,”

“What about that meeting you have later?” You kissed his jaw when he didn’t make a move to step away.

“I’ll skip it, if you want. Just say the word, princess,” He cooed, cupping your cheek as he winked.

“You wish, Holland. I’ll see you later, darling.” You left a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth before moving out of his grasp, making it to the door before he’d rounded the edge of his desk.

He smirked as he watched you leave, catching your eye one last time before the door shut behind you.

Nothing good ever happens on a Monday.

———————————————————————

You had just finished organizing the interns’ files when you spotted Harrison popping out of the hallway from the corner of your eye.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, I swear,” you said, waving your hand as he finally came up to your desk.

“You’re starting to sound like Tom, and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, Y/N! How’s the day been so far?” He set down a cup of coffee in front of you.

“Not too bad; I had to deal with the new interns this morning, but they’re not terrible like Tom had thought,”

“He thinks anything involving mine or the twins’ decisions is terrible, apparently. I’m glad to hear they didn’t traumatize you, at least. Where are we going today, then?” He leaned against the wall opposite you, downing the rest of his own drink.

“Pizzeria down the street? I need something greasy after eating vegetables for the last few days,” Harrison laughed, nodding as he smiled.

“He’s already got you eating clean? God, he’s a mess,”

“I’m so glad he’s not here, otherwise I might commit upon seeing another plate of green anything!” You both laughed together as you finally got up from your desk, grabbing your coat from the stand behind you.

“Just be sure to have some gum afterwards; he’s got a terrifyingly superb sense of smell.”

The walk from the office to the restaurant wasn’t terrible, even if it was snowing and freezing cold.

Harrison indulged your immense craving for everything greasy, and agreed to share a pizza and a whole group of appetizers with you. The conversation flowed easily; the two of you had quite a lot of things in common, and you were honestly a little shocked that Harrison had somehow found Tom to be a compatible friend.

“I always forget to ask you this, but not today. How did the two of you meet?” You posed the question after taking the last bite of your pizza. Harrison leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his drink before clearing his throat.

“Freshman year of uni. Surprisingly, we met in the library, of all places. I’d seen him around campus, and he stuck out like a sore thumb, considering almost everyone knew who he was.”

“Already?” Harrison nodded, chuckling lightly.

“Yeah; the bastard’s name is known pretty much everywhere, thanks to his dad. I always tell him this just to shrink his ego, but sometimes I feel that’s the actual reason why he got into Stanford at all. Tom’s academics weren’t the best when he was in school; at least, from what he told me. Anyways, we met in the library because he was holding the book I needed for a research paper, and it turned out we were in the same class, just different times.”

“That has to be the most boring first meeting story ever!” You giggled when Harrison flashed you his middle finger for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in mock anger.

“Ask him to tell you the story, and he’ll probably include the ‘fact’ I sold him weed in the stacks,”

“He’s very dramatic, isn’t he?” You both laughed and tried to settle down when you saw a few people looking.

“Y/N, I don’t think you know just how dramatic Tom can get.”

“Tell me!” He shook his head.

“It’s better to learn from experience - just ask him, and you’ll see!”

———————————————————————

The rest of the week went by in a flash; you were beyond busy with the interns and their nerves getting the best of them as they started taking on the ropes alone. Tom was either rarely or constantly cooped up in his office. Harrison stayed late with him every night, just so you wouldn’t feel obligated to stick around instead.

Yet, it never seemed like an obligation in your mind; you would have gladly stayed with him. What really seemed to worry you was that Tom asked Harrison to stay just so you wouldn’t.

The feeling seemed to nag you in the back of your mind; the only time you’d really spent together in the past week had been in the mornings before you both left - separately - for work. He always had meetings scheduled during lunch, so Harrison would be there to accompany you.

And he always stayed late, telling you he’d rather finish it at work than risk getting… distracted while at home. That part really irked you.

Not the idea that he was referring to you as a distraction; you did the same to him countless times. It was the fact that he was referring to a possible distraction when you knew very well nothing would even happen if he came back to the apartment with you.

Since the gala, nothing had happened between the two of you. Nothing overtly intimate or sexual; besides hand holding or kissing, it never went beyond that.

You didn’t want to ask why; it would only increase your anxiety thinking that you’d done something wrong. Or maybe something had gone wrong and he no longer… wanted that.

You didn’t want to overthink it, but it was difficult not to. When the foundation of your relationship is built on sex, it makes it hard to avoid thoughts like this when that main component is missing.

The only reason you were really freaking out about this now was because of the fact that Valentine’s Day was two days away, and you had no idea what the hell was going to happen.

This whole relationship was based on something physical; you hadn’t even considered something like this in the beginning, and now it terrified you.

What was more scary was the fact that you didn’t know what Tom was going to do. You were worried he would disappear or drink too much, all while clearly avoiding you.

There was only one way to find out for sure.

You didn’t see him for the rest of Monday and Tuesday. Come Wednesday morning, you learned he’d stayed at Harrison’s apartment.

I’ll make sure he goes home tonight. He’s gonna drive himself insane if he works late one more time. Don’t worry.

You didn’t get your hopes up on the idea of the promise; it wouldn’t be the first time Tom managed to force Harrison to do what he wanted.

When you came into the office, you were surprised to find a large bouquet of roses sitting on your desk with a small gift bag tied to the vase. The card attached to both gifts were signed with Tom’s name, a row of x’s following his handwriting.

Inside, you found three velvet boxes tied with red ribbons. Checking the hall to make sure no one would walk by, you sat down and opened each one.

The smallest box contained a pair of small diamond earrings encased in white gold. The second box was home to a Cartier bracelet, your initials engraved on the inside of the yellow gold band. You almost had a heart attack at the thought of how much money he must’ve spent on these.

The third and largest box revealed your worst fear - a rose gold necklace, interlaced with a simple row of diamonds. You bit back your tongue as you set the box down on the table, covering your mouth with your hand as you admired it.

This is all so much. Holy shit.

When you heard a few voices drift towards you, you quickly put away the gifts and hid the bag in the nearest drawer. A group of interns appeared, a few girls gasping as they took in the sight of the flowers.

“Who are those from?” They practically shouted in unison. You smiled and waved your hand, shaking your head.

“A friend - they’re a little extra when it comes to Valentine’s Day, that’s all. Did you need something?”

The interns ended up providing a perfect distraction from your insistent thoughts. You stayed with them for most of the day, helping them with filing and an assortment of other unimportant tasks.

You didn’t even realize how quickly the time had passed until you saw a text from Harrison on your phone.

I can’t make lunch today, but I know Tom should be there. Have fun, kids xx

He had sent it over an hour ago, so you knew it was time to wrap things up.

“If you need anything else, bug Johnny about it. He likes to think he’s in charge of the interns, so make his day, yeah?” You waved goodbye before they could answer, quickly making it back to your desk. Just as you were about to pull out the gift bag from your desk, your phone lit up with another text - this time from Tom.

Won’t be back till late. Hope you enjoyed the gifts - happy valentine’s xxx

Of course.

You ignored the uncomfortable drop of your stomach as you reread his words a few times. Once you decided you’d rather call it day, you grabbed the bag from your drawer, tidied up your desk, and slipped on your coat.

For some reason - one laced with just a bit of guilt - the gift bag seemed to weigh a bit more heavier in your hand than it had before.

After you got back to the apartment, you ditched the bag in your room, covering it with a pillow so you could deal with it at a later time.

Martha greeted you when you walked into the kitchen.

“You’re back early - want something for lunch?”

“I don’t know if I can even stomach something right now, Martha.” She cocked an eyebrow, resting her hand on her hip.

“And why is that?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day - well, obviously you knew that - but anyways… I’ve got this bad feeling and I’m scared,”

“Hold on - scared about what?” She came around the counter and joined you at the table. You sighed as you avoided her gaze.

“He got me a few… expensive gifts, and then told me, again, that he wouldn’t be back until late. He’s been avoiding me since the gala, and I just don’t know what to make of all this, you know?” She nodded, resting her hand over yours.

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but at least he’s trying for once.”

———————————————————————

“You did what?” Harrison stared at Tom in disbelief.

“What? Am I not allowed to buy her stuff now?”

“No, no. Of course you are. But mate… it’s Valentine’s Day today. You don’t think she’s gonna get the wrong idea here?” Tom’s eyes widened, mouth slightly open.

“What… what wrong idea could she possible get?”

“You’re not that stupid, mate. Gifting her jewelry - pricey jewelry, at that - is more romantic, and definitely not your style.”

“And what the fuck constitutes as my style, Haz?” Tom crossed his arms, glaring at him.

“This is the first… thing you’ve let go on this far. Don’t you usually end things before February?”

“Fuck you, twat. This is different!” Harrison raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in his chair.

“Don’t tell me you have feelings for her.”

“Of course not. But I’m done treating her like she’s nothing, because she’s not.” Harrison eyes widened in surprise, a small smirk replacing the frown on his lips.

“If she’s not nothing, then what exactly is she to you?”

———————————————————————

After a nice dinner with Martha and Nick, you spent the rest of your night watching cheesy rom-coms on Netflix.

You were starting to doze off when you heard a soft rap at your door. Sitting up, you spotted Tom slipping into your room, another bouquet of roses in his hands. You could tell he was holding something behind his back as he stood at the foot of your bed, his teeth digging into his lip.

“Hi,” You sounded out of breath as you met his soft gaze. He smiled, and even in the dim lighting you could make out a rosy shade of pink tainting his cheeks.

“I’m sorry for being absolutely terrible to you.”

“Well, that’s one way to say hi back,” You laughed lightly when he tilted his head, shaking it slightly as he held out the flowers.

“You know what I’m trying to say. I know this doesn’t make up for me being an idiot, but I promise I’m trying,”

“I know. It’s okay, I promise,”

“It’s really not.” You looked at him as confusion sparked across your face.

“What are you talking about, then?” He sighed deeply, moving to sit next to you. Setting the roses down on your nightstand, he handed you what he had been holding behind his back - a teddy bear holding a red heart.

You took the stuffed animal from him, genuine surprise replacing your confusion as you clutched the toy to your chest.

He met your gaze as you looked at him with a bit more than just admiration.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, princess,” He smiled sweetly, his hand coming to rest on your knee.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Tom,” you whispered as you sat up on your knees, pulling him to you. He made no move to stop you as you cupped his jaw, gazing into his eyes for a moment.

He smiled again before giving in first, pulling you down to him. You sighed contentedly as soon as his lips met yours, his tongue slipping in at the first chance.

His hands moved to your waist and pulled you onto his lap swiftly, his lips never leaving yours.

As your mouths moved in sync, you began to slowly rock your hips over his thigh. He grunted into your mouth at the feeling, his grip on your hips tightening as you kept moving.

It was then that Tom realized you were only wearing a shirt and panties, and he was glad he’d chosen the perfect time to come home.

You pulled him back into the moment when you tugged on his curls, your mouth leaving his as you tried to catch your breath.

“You look beautiful like this, darling,” His voice was low in your ear as you rutted your hips against him, quietly keening at the delicious friction his slacks were building up against your core.

You whimpered the second you felt his lips on your neck, sucking and nipping at your hot skin as you held him close to you, but nothing could’ve prepared either one of you for the strangled moan that left your lips when Tom bounced his leg.

“Oh fuck,” was all you could manage to get out as your head dropped down onto his shoulder, your hands clutching the back of his dress shirt as you grinded on his thigh.

You felt his lips pull away, his breath heavy against your skin as he gripped your hips tighter, pushing you down onto him.

“C’mon, baby,” he growled, bouncing his leg up for more friction. You set a steady pace, your hips moving back and forth against him as one of his hands moved to cradle the back of your head, bringing you in for a kiss, his moans mixing with yours.

The knot in your stomach was starting to grow more and more, the friction and quickening pace pushing you closer and closer to bliss. You whined into the kiss when you felt one hand eagerly grab your ass, the other still holding you down against him.

His lips left yours, trailing your jaw with wet, open-mouthed kisses before he moved to your sweet spot.

All it took was a soft ‘come for daddy,’  for your orgasm to finally wash over you, Tom’s lips coming back to eagerly swallow your guttural moans. Your hips faltered against his thigh as you slowly came down from your high. Tom laid back on your bed, letting you rest on top of him as your breathing returned to normal.

You smiled when you felt him playing with your hair while his other hand rested on your hip, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin.

“That was a better gift than the jewelry,” you mumbled, embarrassed the second the words left your tongue. Tom’s chest rumbled in response with an amused chuckle.

“What matters is that you’re happy, princess. Whatever it takes,” His voice was soft, his words making your heart swell with happiness.

“Stay with me tonight,” was all that came to mind, and you couldn’t stop the words from slipping out. The silence that followed made your stomach drop, only to be replaced with a feeling of hope as you felt his hand under your chin, making you look at him.

The small glimmer of something more in his eyes made your heart flutter, but nothing could’ve readied you for what he said next.

[mintyvan]

38

title read my mind

prompt a van fic based on this quote, for @callitwhatyouwill: 

"I don’t mess around or play games. I don’t believe in them. I just want honesty. I’d rather wake up one morning and say, “You know what? I had a really terrible dream that you were fucking someone else. Can you love me extra today?” instead of getting in a fight about some stupid shit and then at the end of the day being like, “Okay, can I tell you why I’ve been acting like this?” I’d rather say “Heads up” than “I’m sorry” later. Your relationship is supposed to be the safe place."

— John Mayer on the secret to having a good relationship

note a little smut but fluff too! very nostalgic feel. and it’s in third person! and hella long. word count: 10,614. i’m going for that again. let me know what you think! enjoy!

___________

Van has always been good at sex. Ever since Nancy from the record store (no last name, just "my parents won't be home this weekend") took him to her apartment to show him a thing or two.

He's always been a quick study and practice makes perfect.

When most kids were getting first kisses and hoping to cop a feel, Van was already way ahead of the class.

"You were made for this, Van," he was told once. Years later he still doesn't know what to do with that.

He only tried for a relationship once and, ironically, no sex was had. Good, virginal, Y/N, who would kiss and kiss and, sometimes, she allowed his fingers, giving in to the tension that was a constant blanket around them. But with her there was always more than sex. There was music and books and genuine discussion. His mind craved her as much as, perhaps more than, his body did.

His first love… his only love.

Although that's not saying much at this point in his life. Van has always been at his most self-destructive while attempting to maintain an active social life. He no longer needs that. Van has always enjoyed his solitude, just himself and the words he reads or writes down, the beginnings of another album. He sees the band outside of work occasionally, sometimes their friends will join them, but generally his life is quiet. Simple.

And while Van is good at sex, he's found he doesn't need to seek it out the way he used to. He's no longer searching for intimacy, affection, to feel something as he once was. He's no longer looking for a distraction. Occasionally someone will spend the night, but they're generally friends who also want to fuck.

Van never thought Y/N would be one of them.

He remembers the moment, back when he was a stupid eighteen-year-old, just kicked out of high school, that he knew he'd messed things up with Y/N. That moment when she'd wanted to comfort him, not knowing why he was hurting; when he knew he was so wrong for her, that he would ruin her… When the only thing he could think of was making her feel good by sharing the one thing he was good at.

He feels like that eighteen-year-old now.

Van has seen her at a holiday or two. They discussed her work, his band, but were generally there for family gatherings. He did his best to tell her that it was okay without saying it, that he wouldn't hold her leaving, in love with another man, against her. She seemed to get the idea, and they were something approaching friends again. When her travels brought her through London, they would meet up for lunch or dinner, Larry or another of his friends joining them occasionally.

He wanted her in his life however he could have her. That's not to say he's still hoping for a romantic relationship; that ship has sailed. He'd jumped the gun one too many times and then ran instead of sticking around to witness the aftermath.

As melodramatic as it sounds, the last time they kissed it seemed to him that he would always be the other guy in her eyes – the one to flirt with, the one to kiss, the one she ran to when the boyfriend wasn't who she wanted him to be.

So he opens his door wide for her when she appears, looking for a friend. He gets them takeout, puts on a bad movie. He listens as she tells him how lonely she is, how hard it is to keep relationships.

She won't say it, won't ask. She may not even know it, but he does. He knows exactly what she needs.

She needs someone who will be there when she wants it. Someone to scratch an itch.

Someone to give her intimacy, affection, to help her feel something. She doesn't need strings right now, but Y/N is not a woman who has one night stands, who will throw herself into sex with a stranger. She needs a friend she can trust.

And okay, he can do that. He's single, stable, and while he's probably always going to be a little in love with her, he knows he can live with that. For once, Van is absolutely, without any doubt, positive he can give her what she needs.

(He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it in the past few years; that he hadn't hoped. Chemistry like theirs doesn't happen every day)

So he catches her off-guard, kisses her as he's done countless times before. But this time they aren't teenagers. She isn't the Virginal Y/N of before. He isn't tainting something pure when he touches her breast. He isn't touching some forbidden treasure when he touches her and makes her come for the first time in almost ten years.

This time she lets him kiss her everywhere and she tastes better than he could have ever imagined. He goes down on her right there on his couch, her taste seared forever in his mind.

Van shows her everything he's learnt throughout the years. And he almost manages to do it without thinking about love or loss.

Almost. That first moment when he presses inside her, when they're pressed together, skin to skin, their lips touching in the lightest of kisses, he thinks that this could be it. That he could never touch another again and it would be just fine with him.

He allows it for a moment before shoving those thoughts to the back of his mind, concentrates on the act instead: finds the rhythm that makes her squeeze her eyes shut, her nails digging into his skin, figuring out the spots that make her squirm, pressing his fingers into the areas that make her scream.

He feels like he's auditioning. This is what I can give you. This is how I can make you feel. (He wants her to want more. He wants to be the best she's ever had.)

The hope was that she would be so tired out, she would fall asleep before the panic sets in. Wishful thinking.

He lies calmly as she jumps up, frantic.

"Y/N," he says; cool, calm, casual.

She looks back at him, standing on shaky legs, holding her shirt in front of her like a shield.

He doesn't get up, doesn't change positions, remains lying in his bed, lazily watching her. "If you want to go back to your hotel, I won't stop you. But don't think you have to. We just had some amazing sex, I'd like to have more. If you want that too, come back to bed."

He's not entirely sure it will work. Y/N has always fought hard against this thing between them.

She must see something in his expression that relaxes her, because without a word she drops her shirt and climbs back into bed. When she lays back down she turns towards him, hesitant. "…do we… cuddle?"

He chuckles. "I'm not opposed to it. You're naked, I'm naked, what's not to like?"

She giggles, pressing herself close to him and falling asleep.

Later in the night they wake up for lazy, slow sex, and he concentrates less, goes with the flow, and it's still amazing. In the morning he makes her breakfast before propping her up on his counter and sinking inside of her for what may be the last time.

"I'll see you when you're back in town," he says as she leaves, just like always.

She smiles, kisses his cheek. "See you then."

She doesn't tell anyone.

For most people that wouldn't be too much of a surprise, but Y/N has tried not to keep anything from her family since some big fight they all had. Hell, Y/N had a one night stand while on vacation from uni and her mother was the first person she called in a panic after it happened.

But things are always different with Van. He has always been her secret to keep. It seems that hasn't changed.

Not that her mother doesn't know that they visit with each other sometimes. According to their family and friends, Y/N and Van McCann have crossed that line from awkward exes to friends. Her mother has finally let go of any flame of suspicion she had and Y/N doesn't want to ignite it again.

The next time Y/N sees him, she's scared: scared that everything will change, that things will suddenly be awkward. She's scared that he'll want something she can't give (what a change that would be), that he'll only want sex from her… that he won't want it again. (Because she does want to – that she knows. The things he did to her, the way he made her feel… She never thought it could be like that.)

Her job has her in London a few times a year. Trying to avoid him on his turf would be easy but she doesn't want to. With or without sex, beginning their friendship again has been a very bright part of her life.

It turns out she doesn't have to worry.

The next time she's in London she can't see Van until late. When she calls, he asks her to meet him at the recording studio and she arrives at the end of an open house. Having missed her last time she was in town, the band are excited to see her, and she quickly finds herself at a pub, her suitcase stashed under a table.

It's easy with them, always has been. They tell her stories about the pain-in-the-ass PR they have to deal with, making jabs at Van throughout. She tells them stories about the people she meets: some of them nice, but mostly embarrassing stories. Van stretches his arm behind her chair, casual, easy, and she tries to stop herself from over-analyzing his actions.

Once the awkwardness of their friendship had lifted he'd always been comfortable around her.

She wonders if the sex will only add another level of comfort.

They end up out later than she initially planned and she curses herself for not booking her hotel in advance for once.

"Just come back to my place; we can walk, save some money."

Y/N stops. She wonders if maybe she's missed something, if she should have analyzed his actions more. She's petrified of hurting him again.

Van smirks. "Don't overthink it, love."

And it can't possibly be that simple. Not with them, not with anyone.

But he's standing there with that crooked smile on his face, one that promises mischief and pleasure if only she would follow him. When they were seventeen she was too afraid to allow him to make good on his promises. Months ago he delivered; she decides that there's no way she'll miss out on it again.

She rides him hard that night, admiring the way his muscles strain, the face he makes as he comes. Y/N runs her hands along his lean chest, digging her fingers into his skin.

When they were young, before it all went downhill, he never pushed her, only ever gave when she allowed it. She'd touched him once but felt too strange, nervous that someone would walk in. He'd only sighed that day, pulling her hand away from him, kissing her softly.

It would be a lie to say that she never regrets it. Next time, she tells herself; next time she'll enjoy him fully and slowly.

They don't fall asleep as quickly this time, both still wired from their day. They talk about the articles they've been reading, albums they've bought. She shares some of her best friend's recommendations and promises to bring her Tame Impala records the next time they see each other.

She rolls over when it's time to sleep and smiles as he pulls her up against his chest. She's missed sleeping with someone, skin-to-skin, snuggled up against warm, strong arms. Don't get used to it. You don't know what this is. You can't keep it.

She sleeps in the next day and it's closer to the afternoon when she wakes up. Coffee is waiting for her, pancakes waiting in the microwave. Van is sitting at his laptop, a serious expression on his face as he types.

He gives her distracted answers when she asks about the new album, and she enjoys watching him completely captivated by his art as she eats.

"Van, I have to get going," she tells him an hour later. She laughs at his surprised expression when he finally looks up from his laptop for the first time that day.

"Sorry, I get…" He scratches his head and she loves seeing him flustered for the first time since high school. Even then it wasn't a regular occurrence.

She nods. "I understand. I can get the same way."

In fact, it's a breath of fresh air, seeing someone else become so distracted with their work.

She goes to him this time, knowing how much she would hate being separated from her laptop when she's on a roll.

"I'll see you when you're back in town." His customary goodbye - and she likes it, this lack of pressure.

Y/N leans down and gives him a soft kiss on the mouth which he returns. "See you then."

When Y/N returns to work it's with a light heart. She feels good. There is no boyfriend to worry about neglecting, to make her feel like her priorities are wrong. She and Van will occasionally text but generally work is work. If Y/N's attention isn't there it's with her mother.

Maybe, one day, she'll be ready for that kind of commitment again, but right now it's just a nuisance.

And she's content with it. They see each other again, and they go out to eat. He pays like he always has and the food is good. The sex is good. Not paying for a hotel is good. Being with him is always good.

Everything is good.

Until she's asked on a date. And she doesn't actually want to go. She would have said no either way.

But it gets her thinking.

***

Lucy Anderson comes to town and he's finally forced to consider some things he'd chosen to ignore.

While Van lived a generally solitary life, he still had friends who showed up occasionally. He'd actually met Lucy at a concert – a flight attendant with a wandering heart much like his own. She would come through occasionally, sometimes calling him, sometimes not. When she did she always stayed the night.

He knows Y/N – knows her better than anyone, knows her better than he did when he said it the first time if that's possible. He knows that there is a possibility she may be turning down others for his sake.

A part of him has no desire to sleep with anyone else either. He's happy, satisfied, and sees no reason for it. But this is meant to be about making life easier for Y/N, and he doesn't want to hold her back.

He turns Lucy down and wonders if he'll hear from her again. He won't be heartbroken if he doesn't, but he would be disappointed. Sex or no, she's an avid traveler; conversation with her is always stimulating.

The next time Y/N comes around it's for three days, longer than usual. She arrives at his apartment on his day off, bags in tow. "I didn't want to assume, but…"

He grins. "It's safe to assume."

She's still hesitant as she puts her stuff down. Fidgeting with the sleeves of her coat, she won't meet his eyes. He wonders who asked her out. He knows she didn't go and he fights between smug satisfaction and guilt.

"Van…" she begins, and he remains quiet, allowing her to say her piece. "I don't want a boyfriend right now."

He waits, sure there must be more, but she remains quiet, biting her lip. He contemplates biting it for her and putting off the conversation a little longer.

Instead he sighs, lets her off the hook. "I think that's smart. You're pretty busy; boyfriend would probably get in the way right now."

She's frustrated with his response but he can't give her the answers on this one. Whether she knows it or not, this is her show.

"So we're… what? Friends with benefits? I've done that before, Van; it didn't work out."

That's slightly surprising to hear. He'd wager whoever it was became a boyfriend not too long after. His money's on the Curly Haired Dick from Oxford and he goes with it. "So, in recent years, with the job you have right now, with someone in one specific state, who you can see when you want, you've tried before?"

She's back to fidgeting with the sleeves of her coat again, the ends fraying beneath her fingers. "…Well, no. It was at Oxford."

Curly Haired Dick it is. "Where you were living on the same campus, probably saw each other all the time, maybe even were dating each other's friends."

She blushes and he knows he got it in one.

"Y/N, I'm not saying this is perfect. I am saying the distance helps when it comes to a lot of the potential issues. You want to go on a date? Go on a date. You want to sleep with someone else? Do what you have to do." It hurts to say, but it still needs to be said.

It's clear that it distresses her too. Y/N's always had a jealous streak. "But… I don't always warn you when I come. What if you're… busy?"

He rolls his eyes. "You largely overestimate my social life. I got a lot of that out of my system a long time ago."

She's breaking and he smiles to himself as she walks away from her bag and finally takes her jacket off. "So… what? I'll be sleeping around while you wait patiently for me to visit?"

He snorts at the notion that she would sleep around. She could; she's beautiful, she has a job that would support such a lifestyle. But Y/N is a woman who likes having a boyfriend, a boyfriend that would simply be an annoyance for her at the moment. He's offering her the illusion. Happily. Willingly.

"Don't worry about what I'm doing. You do what you want. But I can promise you that whenever you come to town, as long as you want to, you can have my bed. Preferably with me in it."

They stand quietly, watching each other. In an instant a decision is made and she takes a step forward, kissing him hard on the mouth.

*

Y/N spends her three days with him and is the happiest she's been in years.

Between her own meetings she spends time at Van’s studio making phone calls, organizing albums, buying albums, and editing. Y/N and Van don't act any differently around his friends; Y/N wants to keep this thing between them. It's better that way. Uncomplicated.

She becomes comfortable though. After high school, before the sex began, she'd always been slightly hesitant around him, fearful of the chemistry between them. This physical connection, this raw sexual attraction that always seemed to vibrate throughout her body when she's with him, begging for the two of them to act. Then, after the sex began, before they discussed it, she was worried about giving him the wrong idea.

It's impossible not to touch him now.

She pauses a movie and climbs onto his lap. When they hit play again they're naked and under a throw he keeps on the couch.

She strokes his shoulder as she walks by him, grabs his hand. She comes home from work and kisses him sweetly on the lips before walking away to order takeout. Y/N plays with the boundaries of intimacy and romance, sure there must be rules. In three days, she finds none.

Returning to work is easy. It consumes every aspect of her life for months on end leaving no room for anything else. She misses Thanksgiving and Christmas at home and there still seems to be no end in sight to her work. It feels like forever before she finds herself in London again.

"Take me out," she tells him. "Pick somewhere nice, make a reservation. I want to dress up and go out."

She's daring in her exhaustion and need to be wined and dined.

"Things were a lot easier when the only thing you wanted was Philly cheese steak," he says, fixing the collar of his dress shirt, fitting his blazer to his chest. And, oh, he looks good. So, so good. She almost regrets her initial plans. Almost.

Smoothing down her dress, a little black number that hugs her curves in just the right places, she enjoys the freedom of dressing up for something other than work. She slides on her shoes before sauntering up to him and grabbing on to his blazer. "But it is nice sometimes – to dress up, go out, show off…"

He rolls his eyes.

"There's also something to be said about—" Y/N presses even closer, her lips next to his ear. "—anticipation…"

He narrows his eyes, smiles.

They go out for Mediterranean. It's a nice restaurant, her dress isn't out of place but she spies a few people in casualwear as well. It's perfect.

It's fun in a way she's never enjoyed with Van: drinks, appetizer, dinner, dessert, playful banter over the table, inappropriate touching with hands and feet underneath.

By the time the check comes she's imagining dragging him to a bathroom.

By the time they get to the car she can barely keep her hands off of him. She mouths at his ginger stubble, bites at his ear before forcing herself back in her seat while he starts the car. His hand strokes her thigh and he presses down on the gas when he discovers her lack of panties.

They barely make it into the apartment, throwing their jackets to the ground, high off the urgency and lust between them. He lifts her up and she wraps her legs tightly around his hips, the wall cool against her skin. She grabs at his shoulders, his arms, hastily pulling at the buttons on his shirt, kissing and licking at the skin she can reach. His hands move away from her for a moment and she doesn't register what he's doing until suddenly he's so close and he's pushing deep, deep, deep. As he moves inside her, Y/N wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders, her hand gripping his hair.

It's intense. It's always intense with Van. Exciting and maybe a little frightening but always bringing her back for more. When her feet are back on the ground and they separate, he holds her face in his hands and kisses her deeply. Later, they lie in bed and listen to their albums, occasionally quoting a fragment or discussing the artist.

It's probably the best date she's ever had.

(The next time she sees him he takes her to a punk concert and it's like the old days, except for all the ways that it's not. She dances against him, hot, sweaty, high off the music and his body against hers. They don't make it to the apartment. He takes her in his car, right there in the parking lot.)

***

He hears from her more often now: emails, texts and the occasional phone call. They talk about everything – books and music, her work, Catfish, family, his lyrics. He knows more about her life now than he ever has and it's nice. Very nice.

While still subtle around friends and family (no sex during holidays) when they're alone he may as well be her boyfriend. He's not surprised. It was the point. Y/N needs more than just sex; it's why she hadn't found someone else, why this has worked for so long.

They're practically in a relationship.

He hasn't touched another since they began.

He gave her a key not too long ago, along with a logical reason so she wouldn't overthink the gesture. "This way you can drop off your stuff if I'm at work, since you never seem to let me pick you up."

Which is true. Y/N still drops by fairly last-minute and never lets him pick her up. He's managed to drop her off a few times but only if he found a reason for the airport or train to be on his way.

She hasn't needed to use the key yet – mostly from lack of presence.

It's been seven months since the last time he saw her, the longest he can remember since they started. And he's okay. He's fine. This was always going to be part of the arrangement. The entire point is that he can handle it.

He can. He can handle it.

He'd just underestimated how hard it would be, to actually have her in his life, in his bed, to be with her, inside of her, and know that one day he'll likely have to let her go, let her go, let her go.

Nowadays, Van is a casual drinker, usually when he's with the guys. He's careful. He's always been a careful drinker except for when emotions were high and Van just wanted to drown everything out. There were no more drugs in his life besides the occasional joint passed around after parties with the band and whoever else has stuck around.

Cigarettes are usually his drug of choice. Sometimes when he's writing he'll go through two packs, forgetting to eat, drink, or sleep until he's done.

That night, he's weak. That night, he's lost in his head and he can't escape it. He doesn't want to leave the apartment and he can't seem to find the words to write. It's happened before, it'll happen again, because sometimes he's overwhelmed and there's just too much.

He grabs the bottle of whiskey left in his cabinet and he drinks and he smokes and tries to numb the feeling like he's that goddamn nineteen-year-old again begging the girl to run away with him.

"Van?"

It's the middle of the night when he wakes up to the sound of her voice. He blinks, rubs his eyes.

"Y/N?"

She takes off her jacket, strips down to her underwear and throws on one of his shirts before climbing in bed with him.

And Van must be dreaming, because what are the odds? For her to just appear, right when he's at his lowest. He doesn't know if this is a blessing or the universe's way of saying "fuck you!" because he can't turn her away. Not now. Not when he needs her this much.

She moves closer, worry etched in her expression before she calls his name again, softer this time.

What are the odds? That the woman he'd searched for so many times when he was young (you aren't eighteen any more), going through inadequate replacement after replacement, would be here now?

He takes her entirely by surprise when he grabs her shoulders and shoves her down, climbing on top of her. She goes to kiss his lips and he gives her his cheek instead, mindful of his breath. (Cigarettes and booze, how can you put this on her?)

He touches her under his shirt, bunching it up above her breasts, drinking her in, drunk off her body, before thrusting hard and fast and deep. Her hands are stroking his shoulders, his hair, and he can't help but whisper, "Y/N, Y/N," because for all the times he's done this, lost himself in the body of another when he needed to forget, this is the first time it's her.

They finish together, something which shocks him because he hadn't been thinking too much of pleasure, hers or his, just necessary release. Van doesn't climb off her right away, instead he holds her close, his face hidden in her neck as he feels himself softening inside of her.

"Are you okay?" she asks, stroking his back under his shirt.

He nods. "I'm sorry… Sometimes I—"

"No, no, I came out of the blue. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing."

He rolls off her, running his hand through his hair. He needs a glass of water, needs to take off his sweaty shirt. He needs sleep.

Van turns his head and Y/N is staring at him with concerned eyes.

He smiles. "I'm glad you came."

That night, after they both strip and find water, he holds her tightly, tighter than he's probably ever let himself before, and hopes she doesn't notice. (He knows she does.)

In the morning she wakes him early, mouth hot and wet around him. He returns the favor, hoping it serves as an adequate apology for falling apart inside her the night before.

They're on their way to the shower when she tells him that she has to leave soon – "this trip wasn't exactly planned" – and he can't believe what a fucking mess he was, wasting the time they had.

He tries to make the apology in the shower extra special. From the sounds she makes he thinks he accomplishes it.

Y/N lets him drive her to the train that day and he's surprised to find that she's heading back to Washington so soon and not some other random state or country. He's parked in front and when he looks towards her she's nervous. He waits.

"So… you know how I have that contact here? Of course you do, it's why I'm usually here. Well, he… moved. To New York, actually, which is funny, because he was always saying how he was going to but he never did but now… well. he… did. So, well, the thing is… I probably won't be around as often any more, Van."

That explained her absence the last few months. He inhales deeply, wishing for a cigarette. "Well, I'll see you when I can."

She nods. And it's awkward. It feels like a break up. As if they hadn't had enough of those. What was he thinking? She hesitates for a moment.

"Are you going to be okay?"

And there it is.

He smiles. "I'm a songwriter, love. A night of booze, sex, and general over-dramatics comes with the territory."

***

Y/N starts to think about fate when the plane sending her back to NY from Paris takes her to London in preparation for the blizzard that's practically upon them. Because what are the odds that her job sent her by plane instead of having her drive or take the train? What are the odds that the plane would take its chances because it's such a short flight? What are the odds that they would land in London? (Where she so desperately wants to be.)

She whips out her phone along with her fellow passengers and calls Van.

"I'm sorry, this is so last minute, but the plane made an emergency landing in London, and I know there's a blizzard outside, and I promise I can find a hotel—"

"Y/N, shut up. I'll be there soon."

Of course he would. The Van she knows now has never disappointed her.

She doesn't have to wait outside for too long, but while she's waiting she considers the last time she was here, not too long ago: when Van had fallen apart, truly and completely, in front of her for the first time in their shared history; when she had taken a completely spontaneous trip to see him, reminiscent of Llandudno, years ago. Timing, fate, that she should appear when he needed her most.

The trip to his apartment takes a little longer than normal but Van is confident. "I've had to drive in worse conditions with a much crappier car."

By the time they arrive the storm is really picking up. Van goes to get dinner ready before any kind of power outage may occur and Y/N checks his bathroom cabinets, thankful to find the sanitary napkins she left there last time her period surprised her.

Next Y/N goes looking for candles in case the lights go out, pulling out some blankets as well, a plan forming in her mind. "Maybe after you're done we can turn off all the lights, light up some candles, open the blinds and watch the snow."

He smirks at her, stirring the sauce in front of him. She's excited; Van is a great cook. His tomato sauce is the best she's ever had next to her mum’s.

"Did your dad teach you how to cook?" she asks, walking to the counter to make some coffee. It's something she's wondered since the first time he cooked for her.

He pauses for a moment. Van never gives anything of himself lightly anymore. "Yeah, a lot of it came from working at the B&B. There were also a few nights when I actually stayed in and Larry would also show me a thing or two."

Y/N tries to imagine it and fails. Back then it seemed like Van didn't show an interest in much of anything. She can't imagine him standing and letting Larry teach him how to cook.

"There sounds like there's more to that story…" she prompts.

He laughs, scooping out some of the sauce and tasting it, letting her do the same. She never has much of an opinion, her knowledge of the kitchen still limited, but he always seems to know what it needs.

"There was this lady next door to us, Mrs. Rossi. When I was about seven or eight she would watch me sometimes when Mary was doing whatever Mary would do. She was probably the closest I had to the stereotypical Italian grandma."

"We moved away when I was nine. I'm not entirely sure whatever happened to her… But the cooking came in handy." He starts moving around, straining the penne, grabbing plates. She pours herself a cup of coffee. "The snow seems to be really picking up out there, it's getting dark… I'm all for your plan if we can be naked."

She blushes, still uncomfortable discussing this no matter how comfortable he's made it clear he is. "How about we keep the underwear tonight?"

He nods, understanding. He tried to convince her once that sex during her period wasn't a problem for him but she assured him that she was grossed out enough for the both of them.

They light the candles and set up the apartment before stripping down to their underwear and cuddling under his blankets with their dishes.

"So, why did you say the cooking came in handy? Do you mean at the bed and breakfast?"

He groans. "What's with all the questions tonight?"

"We're going to be snowed in! Who knows how long for… We've known each other for so long at this point and there's still so much we don't know about each other."

He watches her, narrowing his eyes and taking a bite. "Alright. Mary wasn't exactly chef of the year. But using the money we had for groceries and cooking turned out to be cheaper than going out every night."

They eat slowly, her food cold by the time she's finished while they talk. They trade stories about their mothers' attempts at cooking; most of Mary's most famous cooking adventures are from recent years. Van tells one or two from before, casually dropping little anecdotes.

Y/N has plenty of questions after that, and Van answers each one of her questions with a kind of lazy, uninterested tone.

They're facing the window, watching the storm pass by. She's leaning against his chest while he sits against the couch. She sips at her coffee, faintly wishing they'd been able to stop for wine. Granted, Van doesn't seem to need alcohol to loosen his lips at the moment (and after the last time, his breath stinking of whiskey, she's not sure if she wants that right now.)

Her chest feels heavy.

"Alright, the obvious question… how old were you when you lost your virginity?" she asks, and for a brief, horrifying moment she thinks of the casual way he talks of his emotional abuse and wonders if maybe this is a question she shouldn't have asked.

When he laughs in response she relaxes. "Now we're talking. I was fourteen."

"Oh. Older than I thought actually."

"Huh. Wasn't my first sexual experience, but the actual intercourse… fourteen. You?"

"Nineteen," she responds, dreading the questions that are coming. Van already knew that she and the boyfriend before him had given it a second try, but she'd never actually gone into the gritty details. She still hates talking about it.

He nods, "Right. Since we're all so curious tonight, I assumed it was either Jacob or that Curly Haired guy. But I know Jacob was married around the time of Larry’s wedding…"

"Ugh. He was. He was married when we had sex. It was so bad. I didn't even know it was happening until he was pulling out the condom and then it just kind of happened… I was scared, it hurt, I was so horrible to everyone after that…"

He strokes her belly, soothing her cramps, and she's surprised at how comfortable this conversation, this situation is. She tells him the rest of the story: running off to America, how angry she was with her mother for guilt-tripping her, the guilt she tried not to allow herself to feel at the image of Jacob’s wife trying to make her husband happy – then what came later, when the guilt consumed her and she tried again with Jacob because it felt like she had to after all the strife she had caused.

"Wow. Maybe you should have run away with me."

She's shocked for a moment because they'd actually discussed this before, years ago when he told her what a mistake that would have been. How broke he was, what a bad place they both had been in, what a disaster it would have been. And he's saying that would have been better? Wait a minute.

"Hey!" She turns around to smack him when she sees that he's clearly trying to hold in laughter.

For a little while they forget about questions, wrestling and tickling, rolling around the floor. This quickly becomes a make-out session that could rival the ones when they were teenagers

When they pull away from each other to finally breathe he's lying with his back on the floor and she rests her cheek against his chest. She huffs, smiling, "How are you so good at that?"

"Good at what?" he responds sleepily.

It's getting late. The blizzard is still raging and she considers suggesting they move to his bedroom. But it's nice here in their little cocoon, and Van is always so warm…

"The kissing. You've always been such a good kisser. And the sex…"

"Always been good at that too. Practice makes perfect," he replies nonchalantly, and if she wasn't so tired she'd probably hit him again.

"We met when you were seventeen, how much practice could you possibly have—"

"Nope." He's lazily stroking her back as he continues to talk softly. "Definitely not having that conversation."

And it's strange, the way the mind works. She knows the conversation that he thinks will follow. It's one about sexual history and how many partners he's had, but Y/N doesn't really care about that all that much. No, instead her mind goes somewhere else.

"Van?"

And he grunts in response, his eyes closed, but she knows he's listening.

"In the bedroom… at Larry’s party…"

She feels him tense before he's opening his eyes and looking at her. He licks his lips and for a strange moment she wants to kiss him and forget that she'd even brought it up. Somehow, when she thinks about the party years later, that night seems so much more profound than it had at the time.

She cuts him off before he can start. "I know we already spoke about it. Bad timing, you were emotional, and—"

"I wanted to make you feel good. It seemed like all I was doing was hurting you, disappointing you. I didn't want to, but I didn't know how to stop. I mean it when I say sex is always something I've been good at. Until I started to write songs, it seemed like the only thing I was good at. It was the only thing I could think of. The only thing I could offer you."

He looks ready to apologize again but she's tired of apologies from their broken relationship of ten years ago. This time she does kiss him and he returns it as passionately as always.

"I thought it was going to be you. Prom night, or at some point before I left for America. I'd even spoken to my mum about it." She doesn't know what makes her blurt it out, but it seems important to say.

He doesn't seem all that surprised. Just sleepily shrugs. "Figures. Probably better we didn't though. I was leaving no matter what… wouldn't have been fair to you."

She nods and rests her head on his chest, smiling. "You probably would have ruined me for other men."

She's met with silence. Y/N tries not to think too much about what she just said, or may have admitted.

They fall asleep not too long after. The electricity never actually goes out even though the snow continues well into the next day. They sleep, eat, listen to music, and she's delighted to find that Van volunteers more information about his past over this visit than he ever has before. How had they gone all these years without knowing so many things about each other?

The next day, Van offers to drive her to Cheshire so she doesn't have to worry about public transportation after the storm. The roads are generally clear and it's just a two hour drive (just two hours, that's hardly anything) so she agrees.

On the ride there, he tells her about his new album. "Just a few edits and it should be done."

She laments the fact that she won't have time to help with the edits but he promises to email her a copy she can read if she really wanted it before its recording.

It's simple, easy. Just like it's been for years.

When she gets home, she considers the whole trip, the trip that wasn't even supposed to happen. And for the first time, she really thinks about Van and the arrangement they have.

"I wanted to make you feel good," he'd said. Sex was "the only thing I could offer you."

Did he still feel that way? For the past three years he'd given, unselfishly. Whenever she wanted she could drop into his life and he would be whoever she wanted him to be: the friend, the boyfriend, the lover.

Y/N looks around her empty studio apartment. She misses him already.

She takes a deep breath but the heaviness in her chest doesn't go away.

**

They remain in touch. After the third time a conversation becomes phone sex, it's clear that Van isn't the only one having trouble letting go. (They both end up in Cheshire during Christmas and he sneaks into her room at night, breaking their holiday rule.)

It isn't only him that's seeing it either. After almost four years of this arrangement, the people in Van's life are finally catching on.

Bernie drops by one weekend. He tries to be casual but Bernie isn't ever the kind to open up, so when he starts telling Van about his ex-girlfriend before Mary, it's clear that Bernie has an inkling of what's going on.

And Van gets it. He understands how it must look. He even appreciates the concern. But as similar as they may be, Van is not his father. Hell, if Van had been Bernie, he probably would have left with the ex-girlfriend. Either way, Van isn't waiting. If he had any real desire to be with anyone else, he would be. And when Y/N finally moves on (because she will, she always does), he'll continue to live his life.

When she calls him and invites him out in London with her for the first time he doesn't overthink or hope.

"There's a party I need to go to, a work thing really, and I was thinking maybe you'd like to come? You don't have to, I know parties aren't really your thing, but I need a date and I haven't seen you in a while so I thought it might be nice."

She's breaking their long-established holding pattern. He can hear the nervousness in her voice. He's nervous too.

So he gets the girl in the apartment downstairs to trim his hair, grabs some of his work, packs his one suit, tells the guys that he'll be back in a few days, and ignores the looks the bandmates give him.

Van has never actually been to Y/N's apartment — never been to visit her anywhere other than the childhood home in Cheshire or his apartment in London. He's meant to be separate from this life; that's the point.

He barely has enough time to walk through the door before she's jumping him, lips on his, hands grabbing at the fly of his pants, pulling it down while dragging him to bed. It's quick and it's good because it's always good and, shit, it doesn't make it any easier when she's fucking addicting.

"Hi," she says, rolling over.

"You always give the best greetings," he replies, adjusting his pants and sitting up. He looks around the apartment for the first time. It's a studio, a nice one — nicer than any he's ever lived in. It's also fairly barren. "You just move in?"

She blushes. "Actually, this is my fourth apartment since I moved here. I started off bigger but it seemed silly since I barely lived in them, so they just kept getting smaller. Made more sense to keep most of my stuff at Mum's a few miles away."

He nods. Whenever he thought about Y/N's apartment he'd come up blank. Their roles are reversed now; Van is the stable one living in one place, Y/N the nomad traveling the world. A furnished apartment just doesn't suit her lifestyle.

It's already fairly late so they get takeout and find a movie on TV, eating, watching and laughing on Y/N's bed. She touches him often, pets his hair, scratches at his stubble, kisses any area she touches. He imagines this happening more often, happening every night.

It's strange, sleeping in a different bed, different from his apartment or the one he sleeps in at Cheshire. "Been a while since I've slept in a bed that wasn't mine," he says when they lay down to sleep.

There's an awkward silence. "So you bring all the other ladies home with you? I hope you wash your sheets before you let me in them."

It's somehow a conversation they've avoided since this whole arrangement started. He knows from the few holidays they've gone to at the same time that Y/N has dated off and on — "nothing serious," she'd always say, avoiding his eyes every time.

"Nah, I save the good sheets for you."

"Ugh, you only have like one pair."

He kisses her head. "I know."

Y/N wakes him early, takes him for a quick coffee and pastry, and tries to make him play tourist. When he finds a bench for the third time to read, she finally gives up. She takes him to a museum instead where they get lost for hours until they need to rush home.

They need to navigate around each other as they get ready but they're experts at it at this point. Usually, he can guess at what she's thinking, but the smiles she shoots him as they get ready leave him unsure. He ignores any uneasiness and enjoys the attention instead, grabbing gel for the first time in a while; he'd generally given up on his hair after high school.

"I love how well you clean up," she says, taking his tie out of his hand to do it for him.

"Can't have them thinking I'm your kept man." He rubs his jaw, smirking. "Although that would be fun."

"Don't get any ideas, mister. This is a good chance for you to network."

He probably should have taken that comment more seriously. From the moment they arrive at the venue she's introducing him — "This is my friend, Van McCann, he's a songwriter and lead singer for Catfish and the Bottlemen. He and his bandmates are working on their next album."

These moments are usually followed by questions — has he written anything they would have heard, tell them more about Catfish. Van turns on the charm that's necessary when you're a business owner but in the end Y/N sells it best. She apparently even carries Catfish albums in her purse — some people already recognize the name of the band as well as his albums, some people he even recognizes. He makes a note to talk to the band about paying Y/N for promotions.

Y/N touches him frequently, wraps her hand around his arm. It's not his scene but he enjoys the looks he gets, enjoys feeling like she's showing him off, someone she could be proud to be seen with.

It takes about two hours for the atmosphere to become suffocating. Y/N is standing on the other side of the room, chatting with a group of high-profiles and reporters. He stands from their table, meeting her eyes and gesturing towards the back door with an unlit cigarette in his hand. She smiles back in understanding, her knowing eyes, bright as ever, sparkling back at him.

She's turned back to the group while he's still standing there like an idiot. Ten years since he met her and she's still the most stunning creature he's ever laid eyes on. He watches as she grips the attention of the little group. He watches everyone who passes her by, looks at her, and is distracted by her beauty and intelligence. He remembers telling Bernie years before he had no idea why Y/N had chosen him. He's come a long way since then — made a real life for himself, no longer the hooligan turned dropout with no future — but sometimes, at moments like these, he still thinks why me?

Outside is a balcony, overlooking a garden that's too dark to really see. Leaning against a railing, he lights up a cigarette, inhaling deeply and slowly relaxing, reaching for his phone.

People wander outside. Some of them beg him for a light, one or two beg a smoke. He behaves himself, showing pity and giving up his cigarettes to these people in this other part of Y/N's world. Some of them ask what he's reading or listening to, or if he's Y/N’s date. It's a strange title but he willingly accepts it. He makes conversation, telling them about the new album he's working on and is due to be released in a few weeks.

Van doesn't know how long he's been standing out there, smoking, conversing, when Y/N comes looking for him. "Time to go!" she says.

"I'm good if you need to stay," he replies, unsure of what the usual routine is, if the party is actually over or if she's leaving early for his sake.

She grins back and for the first time he gets the distinct feeling that he just passed a test.

"Nope. I got plenty of material; anything else is for the gossip rags. Also, I'm starving."

He laughs, not surprised. The food was good but hours ago, and definitely not enough to fill up Y/N.

She's shoveling food in her face when she asks about the new music he’s listening to, and they discuss it while they eat. Y/N used to say that he helped her thought process, and while he wouldn't admit it for a long time, she does the same for him. He'd already planned on dedicating this album to her; with her to bounce ideas off, the writing process was the smoothest it's ever been.

"Did you at least enjoy yourself a little bit?" she asks, biting her lip.

He shrugs. "It wasn't as bad as I was expecting. Although I think we're going to need to start paying you for promoting us. You're better than the websites."

She grins wide before taking a bite of her burger. He thinks again about tests. He thinks about being actively in Y/N's world, about going to events with her, being Y/N’s date.

He likes the sound of it. Sitting outside at a fast food restaurant’s picnic table, dressed in formal wear, Van thinks about where they started — not the beginning (the beginning was over and done with) but the beginning of this thing between them.

For the first time, he considers the idea that maybe this is more than just the start of something that would eventually end.

***

She doesn't see Van again until his album release party a few weeks later. It's a big event meant to make up for the ones they didn't have for the others. She makes a point to take a few days off, desperately wanting to help, to be a part of this — to be a bigger part of his life.

And, oh, she misses him — more and more with each separation that comes. She misses his hands and his smile, his voice.

When she first enters the studio late morning they're setting things up, Van lifting his head and smiling at her. She feels something deep in her chest, heavy, and she pulls him into a different room, kisses him deeply, loving the feel of his mouth and his tongue and, oh, how she missed him.

Benji tries to tell her they don't need help, but Van and Larry are quick to put her to work, arranging things and answering the phone. They could afford to have people come in and do this for them but Van is stubborn and something of his self-sufficiency has rubbed off on the other two.

Mary and Bernie arrive not too long before the party is meant to begin, Bernie glowing with pride as he always seems to these days. He helps with the food, and Mary informs them that one of their old friends offered to cater their next party.

Y/N's gotten used to working crowds and she does her best: sharing information about Catfish, how well they're doing, who to contact if they want to be featured somewhere. She tells people about Van, his success, his talent, going on and on about this wonderful man who brings so much to her life. It doesn't occur to her how transparent she's being until her mother pulls her aside, asking if there's something Y/N should tell her.

Y/N doesn't tell her yet, but she will soon. This is the longest she's ever kept a secret from her mum and although she knows her mother will be hurt she doesn't regret it. This thing she and Van have been doing has been uncomplicated, smooth, comfortable — all of that would have changed if she'd had to argue with her mum the entire time.

The party continues on and Y/N finds that unlike the first events she'd attended she isn't surrounded by strangers. She tries not to laugh at the surprise on her mum's face as Y/N introduces her to people, friends of Bondy and Bob, a few she and Van ran into at concerts and other record stores.

"I didn't know you came here so often," her mum says, when it's just her, Y/N, and Larry after a group has left them.

"Oh, Y/N isn't here as much as we'd like but after — what, five years? — we've all fallen madly in love with her." Larry laughs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. Her mum continues to be visibly surprised as Larry tells tales of Y/N's visits. "Y/N here has a way of getting Van to leave his apartment."

A group surrounds them and Y/N is thrilled to see more people she recognizes. She's thankful to see Van surrounded by people who care about him and who want him to succeed.

At some point Benji comes over saying, "Hey, Y/N, I think he's hitting his limit." And Y/N nods, leaving as Bernie joins the group.

Van is talking to a very enthusiastic older couple, hand tightening on his beer. He smiles gratefully at Y/N when she joins them, wrapping his arm around her shoulder tighter than Larry had, introducing her proudly. And that's where she stays for most of the night, stroking his back and rambling when she needs to.

"I hate when all the attention is on me. I can't disappear for a smoke," he murmurs to her at some point and she wonders how she ever thought he was sociable.

No, she knows how — he fakes it well. He fakes it better than he used to. Or, rather, his temper doesn't flare like it used to. She knows he loves this place, that he knows being sociable comes with the job and he considers it worth it. It makes her think of the party she brought him to, how well he did, even after he left for air.

"I'm here," she says, and if they'd been anywhere else she would have kissed him.

"Just as good as a cigarette," he replies, stroking her arm.

She receives three job offers and one person claiming to have a contact somewhere big, at a large London PR firm. "The studio keeps all your articles and PR on hand and I've read them all. Please consider calling," she hears, and she narrows her eyes at Van as he looks on innocently.

To her surprise, she's already considering it.

It's late when the party finishes; late enough that her mother doesn't have time to question her before she, and Mary and Bernie return to their hotel (although she does raise an eyebrow when Y/N tells her she won't be staying at the hotel with them.) Y/N dreads the conversation that will ensue when they all meet up the next day.

She's sitting in bed with her phone while Van potters around the apartment, getting ready to join her. There's something very domestic about their situation, but it's nothing new. The toiletries were waiting for her when she arrived, as well as some jewelry and makeup she's left behind. Her sleep shirt is also here; it seemed ridiculous to take it since she always ended up back here.

Really, she's all over this apartment of his. How could she have missed that all these years?

Y/N has been around the world. She's met all different kinds of men, felt different kinds of attraction and infatuation. She's been on many first dates, but rarely a second. She's shared kisses but never gone back for more. And none of them ever saw her apartment.

Instead, she always finds herself back in London, with Van McCann.

He's wearing his boxers when he climbs in with her, taking the book she hands him.

The feeling in her chest grows heavier as she watches him read, pen in his hand. It took some time but she finally finds the source of the heaviness in her chest. Words. They're words weighing her down.

She doesn't know how long they've been pressing on her. Maybe they've been there since high school, waiting for it to be time. For years she hasn't allowed herself to speak them, afraid of what would happen. She loves her freedom and has feared losing it, but Van has shown her that she can have him and still be free. When she's with Van, she has a different kind of freedom.

"Van?" She looks at him, reaching over and pushing his book down to the bed. He lets it go easily, giving her all his attention instead. "I love you."

There's freedom in saying the words. There's no fear, no regret, because she knows with absolute certainty that he loves her just as much in return.

They reach for each other and he strips her of her nightshirt, drags his mouth down her body.

They make love and she doesn't fear the intensity, she embraces it. She's not the only one who's been keeping their words chained up deep in their chest. He sets them free with whispers against her skin. "I love you. I've always loved you. Only you."

After, as she waits for sleep, her head resting against his chest, she thinks about tomorrow and the talk they'll have.

Tomorrow, maybe they'll decide nothing has to change — that they've been with each other for years now, that they've been in a relationship in every way but name. They know they can navigate it, they know their relationship can survive the distance.

Maybe she'll decide that she's done with her New York job and that she wants to try something new, that she loves the life she's made with him in London. He'll offer to find a new apartment, a bigger one, and she'll smile and shake her head, because she loves the one they have.

Maybe he'll offer to come with her to Paris. Van is confident he can write or record anywhere and he'll always have Catfish. They'll find a new apartment and he'll write, creating his own niche in the nation's capital with her.

Maybe they'll both change cities, go somewhere far. He'll transfer studios while she goes to write reviews for the New York Times like she always dreamed. He'll show her his favorite places from the time he wrote the second album, and they'll discover new ones together, making the city their own.

Maybe they'll both take a long vacation and go on a road trip, better than the first one he took when he was young and angry and alone. They'll drive from country to country, state to state, city to city, stay in hotels, see the sights and maybe this time she'll be the one writing her first song.

Tomorrow, she'll tell the family. Tomorrow, they'll no longer be each other's secret. Tomorrow will be the start of something new.

For now, they sleep.

[directproductionsuk]

Broaden your horizons

By Julian Dismore: TV Series Producer and Media Skills Trainer

It’s been quite a journey since my broadcasting career began as a Cambridge University Radio Presenter back in 1986. I know for a fact that my broadcasts used to get zero listeners - sometimes I’d offer £100 prizes for competitions like “Name the capital of England” and get no calls!

Since then I’ve worked on many TV series that have got millions of viewers. The reach of my programmes never ceases to amaze me. For example I was in a drugs den in Edinburgh surrounded by users and struggling to create small talk to break the ice when I happened to mention the last show I worked on and they revealed they were big fans! Problem solved.

My latest series which has just gone out on Five will have got around a million viewers per episode by the time catch up is added in. But the remarkable thing, and a real sign of the times, is that a web video I made a few years back about Indian cricketer Yusuf Pathan (sat behind me in the pic) has accumulated nearly 1.5 million views.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOkLMgmFBl8&list=PLlXkfw89WpLwKmk93JHgEDpOiNnDUtGBS&index=10

And there’s a lesson there for anyone who wants to work in the creative industries. Don’t just think about TV and Radio. Making videos for websites, YouTube, Insta etc can also be a fulfilling and rewarding career. Take my son Adam for example. He flies around the world producing motorsports videos and has little interest in mainstream broadcast platforms.

Adam wisely spent his time at Loughborough Uni making videos for the various sports teams, initially free of charge and then paid. He taught himself how to shoot and edit and then started investing in kit (as well as borrowing mine!) By the time he graduated he’d made valuable contacts and had a kick ass CV. He had numerous job offers and chose the exciting globe trotting fast car option – surprise surprise!

You students need to do the same – use your time at Uni effectively. Join video making societies, do student journalism to boost your story telling skills and make lots of contacts. That way you will be well placed to explode onto the jobs market when the time comes!

For more tips on how to forge a media career, book a place on my upcoming online zoom course by e mailing me at juliandismore@gmail.com

Wednesday October 7th: 9.30am to 1.30pm  

Zoom Workshop: 'How To Get Into The Media Industries'

The course covers the following: generating media contacts, what to say in your introductory e mail, CV finessing for jobs in the media, job interview skills, TV runner skills, TV researcher skills, insider's tips and career strategy. It also gives an overview of the different roles in TV and we run through the do's and don'ts of job hunting. It is interactive and fun – and will save you months, if not years, going down blind alleys as you look to embark on your career. The course fee is £50 – a wise investment!

If you’d really like to do the course but can’t make this date, please let me know.

For testimonials please go to https://www.directproductions.co.uk/training-courses

Good luck!

Julian

TV Series Producer and Media Trainer

Direct Productions UK

Mob +44 (0) 77177 44321

www.directproductions.co.uk

For blogs, tips and work ex opportunities, follow us on social media!

Facebook, LinkedIn, Instagram, YouTube, Reddit, Tumblr: @DirectProductionsUK

Twitter: @DirectProdUK

[ac-ars]

High for this

this baby is greek i hope you like it guys

sending hugs to my fav @sky-girls because well she helped lmao

🌙

Have safe flight

Luna isn't really scared of flying, but flight from Cancun to London seemed not nice even a bit. What would she do during long ass flight, on tiny seat with some stranger next to her? She's sitting on the airport now, in the terminal, her luggage already taken to the claim and walking around all fancy expensive stores was done like half of an hour ago. Those airport benches suck, they are super uncomfortable no matter which position she takes. Currently she's texting her mom and Simón, who's picking her from Heathrow. Monica Valente asks about millions of things, if Luna took toothbrush, if she has her wallet and passport and telling her not to talk with people who look suspicious while Simón just makes fun of her, because she’s a little freaking out about Oxford.

Brunette sighs loudly letting out her disgust with the situation as some fat sweaty guy eating fries sits next to her even if there's like twenty free seats around. Luna gets up biting a growl and almost forgets her handbag from under the bench and it would mean she’s fucked, so bless that she remembered. Her flight departures in thirty minutes so it’s almost boarding time and that’s only thing that keeps Luna alive.

She holds onto her boarding pass as if it’s keeping her alive and it lowkey is, because Oxford paid for her flight and she wouldn’t want to lose this small paper. The gate is suddenly full and Luna hates the bus going straight under the plane, because she’s small. Nature, or her biological parents, didn’t give her much of the height and now she’s getting to know all of the bad parts as she’s being breathless between people and their hand baggages.

The last thing she tries to remember on the runway before getting into the aircraft is heat of Cancun, because England is cold as hell from what she’s heard from Simón and she knows she’s gonna miss it so, so much. Flight attendant checking her pass is smiling widely, almost genuinely and Luna smiles back even if it’s obvious that they just have to be nice.

She walks slowly through the aisle hoping she will get window seat, or at least not in the middle part and as soon as she gets to her number she sees some bag laying on her very seat. It's probably disgustingly expensive bag so brunette just takes it and places on the ground before sitting down and looking at the airport terminal from the window.

“Excuse me, what is my bag doing on the floor?” Slightly annoyed male voice asks and Luna sighs turning to him.

“Well, floor is more its place than my seat.” She answers with small pout not wanting to look at him again, because she wouldn’t manage being consistent while the guy looks that cute in glasses.

“You could’ve moved it to mine, though,” he mumbles messing with his hair and brushing his hand over his face. “Nevermind, it’s just a bag after all.”

Luna nods not sure what happened now, but doesn’t ask still a little confused with whole situation. She just focuses back on the window trying to ignore this feeling of familiarity when she remembers his face.

The plane is getting fuller with every minute and before she can blink the flight attendants are explaining seatbelts and other emergency things no one ever watches.

“Hey,” the guy next to her nudges her slightly when she focuses on her phone. “Watch them, it can help you one day.”

She stares at him weirdly, because that sounded almost creepy, but she just shrugs moving her eyes to the stewardess. It’s not that boring and actually lowkey helpful so she's focused on the woman until taxiing starts. Climbing passes without any turbulences or some shit and before Luna can notice they are on cruise height for next twelve hours. Amazing.

The guy next to her takes out macbook from his fancy bag and brunette snorts softly wondering what such guy is doing in economic class. Screen lights up blinding her completely and she has to blink headache away before reading Matteo Balsano on it and seeing some random beach picture on the wallpaper. Luna plans to turn her head away, but he opens some weird program that looks like those super complicated apps making music, those she saw on famous people's instas and she can't even read anything when she hears his voice.

“I know it looks cool, but staring is rude. Didn't you know that?” he asks even without moving his eyes to Luna. He bites softly his lower lip when he searches for something in the bag and his frown softens as he pulls out earphones.

“Yeah, sorry.” Luna mumbles in answer, yet doesn't take her eyes off the Matteo guy. He's wearing just dark jeans, well fitted, very well fitted and her mind instantly wonders if he will get up later to let her judge more. His light blue shirt looks super expensive and perfectly ironed and Luna isn't sure who the fuck and how old he is.

“You are still staring, this is starting to be creepy.” This time he turns to her leaning back of his head against the seat. His glasses rode down his nose a little and Luna isn't sure how she manages to keep her hand on her thigh not to fix that. There's this focused pout on his lips, as if he's unsatisfied that she interrupted, but not actually mad or something.

“I'm sorry, it's just the longest shit flight in my life and I'm not sure how I'll handle that.” Luna whines softly playing with the pillow the stewardess gave her before plane started moving.

“It's not that bad, flight from Buenos Aires is even longer and I've had few in my whole life already.” The Matteo guy has nice smile and Luna focuses on it not sure how he can be so bright when there's almost twelve hours more in the plane.

“How many times until I get used to that?” Brunette sighs looking out from the window, but seeing the pretty clouds and the sun doesn't make her any less bored.

“You don't.” He grins in this a little troublemaker way. He doesn't look like any proper snob right now, especially when he brushes his fingers through his hair. “You just find new things to do during the flight or sleep. Or you talk to random people learning new stuff, that's a way to live too.”

“And which one have you perfected?” Luna asks smiling at him when he shakes his head slightly and points with his head at the laptop. “Isn't it obvious? I'm just doing my stuff, not to mention this is my homework actually.” His lips change into thin line when he shrugs a little unsure and there's something soft in him making Luna warm a bit.

“What homework?” Shouldn't she just let him do it?

Nah, let's ask.

He smiles widely again, showing his teeth and she's not sure what now. “I think we should get some basics before sharing our private life like homework. What do you think?”

Brunette pouts looking at him suspiciously and wondering if he's making fun of her or not. Eventually she nods; there's no way she spends this shitty flight alone, staring at his laptop.

“I'm Luna,” she says with this sure tone that makes him laugh.

“I'm Matteo, but I'm lowkey sure you saw that on my laptop.”

Luna blushes turning away from him with a sigh, because with her luck she bumped into asshole. Why does life hate her?

“Okay, I was joking. Again, okay?” Matteo pokes her on the arm. “I'm Matteo, it's very nice to share my flight with you.”

“It’s very nice indeed.” She mumbles under her breath. “I'm going to new uni and I'm scared as hell.” Words leave her mouth before she can manage to stop them and apparently she needed to blurt it uncontrollably to stranger because she feels less scared now. And surprisingly Matteo isn't making any fun of her.

“That was me two years ago, same situation except new places don't really scare me since my parents were traveling like crazy. Thanks to their work.” Last sentence is said with this small bitterness and Luna wonders why, but doesn't ask letting him continue. “It won't be that bad. What are you going to study?”

“Environmental engineering, and if you mention me saving the world I'm gonna kick you.”

Matteo giggles with pretty sound and for a second she thinks he will say it, but he doesn't. “That sounds fancy as hell. I'm just plain person studying music and trying to pass with those songs I have here.” He points at the laptop and she nods, knowing what is he doing right now.

“Is it difficult? Making songs, I mean.”

He shrugs looking at the aisle. “I don't know. You just learn how to do that. You learn how to do everything there, so that's nothing unexpected.”

“You have to have an idea though.” Luna murmurs almost to herself.

Matteo looks at her with unreadable smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“Will you ever be cool enough for me to listen to you on spotify?” She jokes a little and bless him for catching it.

“I'm obviously cool enough, I'd say I'm too cool for them already.” He sends her a wink and she blushes not knowing why the hell.

“So you're more tidal person?” Luna asks more herself than him and Matteo makes terrified face shaking his head. “No way. Let's stay by the spotify.”

He is being super nice and talking to him isn't scaring her like with other people, he's apparently two years older or something so there's no big difference making her feel better. Matteo raises his eyebrows in silent question and she just nods letting him make music, no matter how curious she is of that and of him.

Luna reaches for her own earphones and puts them into her ears staring the music and leaning against the wall of the plane to sleep. It’s uncomfortable as fuck, the engines are roaring loud enough to break through her playlist, but the best brunette can do is ignore this remembering statistics about seats by the wings being the safest places to sit. This is gonna be long flight and maybe airplane mode will save a little of her battery.

🌙

When she wakes up he is sleeping. It's been like two hours of her sleep and Luna isn't any surprised since she couldn't sleep at all the night before, so that's only pro of flights duration: that she can sleep all the time. Not counting pain in her neck, of course.

Matteo is sleeping almost like it's trouble less to sleep in the plane, like it's super comfy and easy and Luna isn't sure if it's because everything he does seems easy or just he got used to that. His arm is pressed against hers yet she doesn't mind at all, even if she doesn't know him at all she likes him enough to let him be close. It's weird feeling, but it's not like Luna is able to fight with her feelings.

She focuses on the sight from the window and it hasn't changed a bit so she takes out the tablet her aunt sent her from Buenos Aires for birthday. Poor Rey had to fly straight to Cancun  to give her small box and birthday card with this annoyed face and even if Luna doesn't like him at all she still felt a bit bad.

She opens some random book trying to concentrate on the words and it's lowkey working until Matteo starts to stir on his seat. At some point he moves even closer to her and his head is completely, undeniably on Luna's arm making her almost choke. He reaches for her hand in his sleep just having it between his fingers and doesn't move more, letting her try to guess what is happening here. Brunette eventually just sighs and allows him to do that as long as he's not acting like a freak psycho. She just tangles their fingers reading without a break and that's when she notices his glasses are off. There's no way she would look at him directly without moving him and it means waking up as well, but she wants to see if he's as cute without glasses as is wearing them. Or if she'd describe him with other adjective.

Matteo wakes up himself when she finishes the chapter four and shakes his head moving away.

“I was sleeping on your arm?” Luna just nods. “I'm sorry, I'm not that clingy and this was weird.”

“It’s fine,” she giggles. “I'm still surprised I didn't do the same. I probably will from now on knowing that I can.”

“I wouldn't mind that at all.” He chuckles and brunette watches him asking herself if he's flirting with her and why he looks so hot right now without glasses, his hair messier than earlier and this low deep voice after sleep.

Luna is torn between stating it's because pills with hormones she started taking few weeks ago are working or if it's because him being him that she wants to kiss him.

Probably both.

“Just go to sleep, Matteo.” Brunette smiles at him with a nod and maybe it works; he closes his eyes with lazy grin leaning against his seat and there's this cold place now where his head used to rest.

🌙

It's like fifth hour of the flight when they are wordlessly focused on their things as Matteo is still trying to do something with one song while drinking his coffee. Luna doesn't want to interrupt him even when questions are gathering in her head so she just looks at him from above her tablet.

“Luna,” he mumbles, “could you please not watch me with those eyes?”

Sigh leaves from between his lips and he closes the laptop making her feel bad. “I'm sorry, I just hate this book.”

Corner of his mouth curls up to lopsided smirk. “You want me to distract you? I can tell you statistics about plane sex if you want.”

Luna chokes on the water she was drinking before he said that, hard enough that she has to lean down to her knees as he starts giggling.

“Your face was perfect at the moment.” Another giggle leaves his mouth and she glares at him.

“If you want me to shut up and leave you alone, you had to just say that, not try to make me drown.”

He pouts leaning a little closer. “I don't want you to shut up. You are taking my jokes too serious. And I surely don't want you to drawn.”

“Fine, fine.” Luna murmurs with small sigh. “I'm going to nap.” She throws him a look before leaning against the wall again and she guesses that this tiny blink of disappointment in his eyes is just her imagination.

🌙

“Luna, hey, I need you.” Someone whispers straight into her ear and she jumps on her seat.

“What? What happened?”

“Sorry for waking you up.” Matteo smiles awkwardly. “But I need your help.”

“Okay I guess.” She yawns softly in her arm and turns to him blinking.

He bites on his lower lip taking all of her focus for a second. “I have a problem here and I'm not sure how to connect those two parts.” He slides his finger over the screen. “I don't knowing I should just put them together or fade in this shit. Can you tell me which works better?”

Brunette raises her eyebrows at him. “You know I'm not some fancy music judge?” He nods and she nods him back reaching for the earphone he gives her.

Both options sound good and Luna blesses her sleepiness, because damn this song and damn his voice but this is ridiculously good. She tries to act casual, but wouldn't she be Luna Valente if she kept her cool. “The first one. I mean this song is quick so I guess quick change works here.”

The smile he gives her could move the clouds away from sun's way. “Thanks, you're my hero.”

“If I'm your hero,” she starts, “is there any way you could send me that? I wanna listen more.”

Luna is sure she's seeing impossible, but there's tiny pink tint on his cheeks when she says that. That's super cute.

“As long as you don't sell it when I'm famous.” Matteo smirks making her roll her eyes.

“How much more do you have to do though?” Brunette asks curiously and he hums thinking. “We have six more hours to go so I'll probably be dying of boredom later, because I'm almost done now. I actually thought it would take more, but here you came to save me.”

“You're ridiculous.” She giggles and he chuckles

“But really, as your hero I want to listen more.”

“What do you want to listen?” He asks reaching for his phone.

“You.”

Smile on his face makes her sure she said it in wrong way. When he opens his mouth he just confirms that. “I can always talk to you.” Matteo mumbles with low voice leaning his face closer to her; close enough that their noses are touching now and Luna is surely going to die, without even getting to her destination.

“What would you even talk to me?” She asks not knowing why the fuck she's flirting back.

“I don't know, I'm sure that your boring book would be interesting while read with my voice.”

“You are so full of yourself, Matteo Balsano.” Luna shakes her head tapping his nose.

“That is called being confident and knowing myself, Luna whatever you last name is.”

She has to laugh in her pillow, because it would be definitely too loud. “Just give me the songs, please.”

“Oh, I surely will. You have to spread my blessing around the world saying that this is the great guy who entertained me during my flight to Heathrow, singing and making me shiver.”

“You know what, I don't want the songs now.” She sticks her tongue out at him.

He pokes her on the ribs. “Of course you do, I'm willing to send them to you, or more like copy by the cable since there’s no connection here.”

Luna sighs giving him her phone and watches him as he seems to perfectly know how it all works. Before she can blink he gives her her phone back lacing their fingers for a second by the way and he points at his cheek.

Brunette shakes her head taking out her earphones again, but he moves to her still showing his cheek.

“Will you leave me alone if I do this?”

“I will even let you sleep on my arm.” Matteo sends her a wink and she sighs before pressing her lips to his skin. He seems to be super smug after that, yet Luna just chuckles resting her head on his arm.

“Sweet dreams,” he mumbles into her hair with soft voice and she hides in his neck nuzzling slightly.

🌙

There's definitely too much sleeping in this position for one flight, but this time when Luna is slowly awake it's surely warmer. She can't move much, because his arm is around her shoulders pulling her closer and no matter how weird it feels, it's more comfortable so brunette decides to stay.

“You're comfy,” she whispers and hears his yawn.

“Of course I am. Go to sleep.”

“Matteo?” Luna asks softly and he hums her to continue. “Did you bump into me in Cancun few years ago or it's just me being paranoid?”

Neither of them opens their eyes when he takes deep breath moving his chest up. “If you were this clumsy delivery girl, then yes. And it was you who crashed into me.”

“You were stupid enough to make some tricks on the sidewalk for normal people.”

He chuckles pulling her hair a little. “Shut up or I'll tell you the statistics. They are really shocking.”

Luna growls into his neck. “How have I managed handling you for ten hours so far?”

“The better question is how did I manage handling you, little lady. You're demanding all of my attention like a puppy.”

“I'm sure you are the cat out of two of us.” She pouts against his skin and he trembles softly, surprising her.

“Yeah.” His voice shaky. “I'm the cat.”

🌙

“It wasn't that bad.” Luna exclaims as they are leaving their seats. Matteo only rolls his eyes mumbling something about not that bad for her, but she shrugs it off.

The cold hits her immediately after getting out of the plane and, to her surprise, he throws his jacket over her shoulders rubbing them a little.

He is waiting for her to get her luggage even if he got his own few minutes before (his suitcase completely fancy and expensive as hell of course). He even helps her to get it out of the line and walk away for her to gather herself together.

“I hope you won't get lost anywhere in England.” Matteo sends her wide grin.

“My best friend is waiting for me, ready to drive me straight to my dorm at uni now.” Luna shrugs with awkward smile.

“Bless them then. I have to go, because my idiot friend is texting me like stupid that he missed me.” He murmurs dismissing the call again.

“Yeah sure. Good luck with the homework.” She nods while he is playing with strap of her bag. “Wait, the jacket.”

“No, have it. I doubt I will need it more than Mexican girl in England.” Matteo shakes his head.

“How will I give it back?” Brunette frowns scrunching her nose.

“You know what they say,” he smirks at her charmingly. “What happened twice will surely happen for the third time.”

She looks at him speechless and with kiss in the corner of her mouth he's gone. Walking towards arrivals terminal with confident moves picking up his phone finally. Luna can only stare at his back wondering what just happened, why the hell she can't breathe and why the fuck she didn't kiss him when she had the chance.

🌙

Oxford is weird. Her new uniform is even weirder and lowkey uncomfortable, but she will get used to it soon. Luna happened to get scholarship because of her exam results and she got one of those fancy dorms with two rooms so she can close herself and scream when she needs.

Nina, her roommate seems very nice and Luna is already sure that she's the good kind of roommates, not the one stealing food from the fridge. Simonetti showed her around since she's been here few days longer and Luna was charmed with excitement in Nina's voice when they were entering the library.

Sadly she couldn't help Valente with getting her schedule and just said something about student council having all of them so Luna has to go and talk with older snobs to know what classes she has.

Not to mention getting lost around the campus. Shit.

She's walking through some big hallway, trying to avoid bumping into the people and cursing in her mind the tie in for choking her slightly. There's big lump in her throat when she knocks to the council's door and she has to take deep breath.

The place has few desks and seems more chill than everything Luna has ever seen here so far. There's dark blue couch by the window and people inside don't seem to notice her at first. She looks around seeing big board on the wall and there are some things written with fancy font. Next to it she notices big calendar with Oxford pics and Luna snorts softly. Brunette notices two girls plus Ámbar, Luna's cousin, what doesn't surprise her at all, and there's probably some guy leaning against the desk or sitting on it, but she can't see him since Ámbar is covering his face.

Luna clears her throat and the very second they all stare at her she chokes.

“Luna?” Both Ámbar and Matteo Balsano out of all people ask in the unison.

She smiles awkwardly waving at them and Matteo jumps off the desk taking his jacket by the way.

“Do you need anything?” His voice sounds almost concerned, but Luna knows he tries to keep his chill and act as casually as possible. According to Ámbar’s surprised look, he is failing big time. Not to mention he speaks Spanish, not English

“My friend told me you would give me my schedule.” Luna mumbles looking around, not sure why she's suddenly shy next to him. He nods slightly and goes to the shelves on the wall, taking some binder and flipping through it to find the right paper. Girls are staring at her with something in their eyes, bug they look away as soon as Ámbar sends them killing glare.

He looks definitely too serious to be the Matteo she had seen during the flight, but she doesn't want to think about it now not to be disappointed. In a second she has her schedule in her hands and with small thank you she wants to leave. He stops her though.

“I'll walk you to the class since the campus is a mess and you might get lost here.”

Luna nods waiting for him to put on his uniform jacket and he rests his hand on her waist when they are leaving the council's place.

Matteo stops just as soon as the door is closed behind. “Well,” he is suddenly smirking at her, not caring about everyone around staring at him. “It's nice to meet you again, Luna. Welcome to the University of Oxford.”