#just went a full hour without letting up on this one part of the fic

[altruisticalastor]

so i’m cooking up part three right now and all i can equate my feelings to for this chapter is this image right here

[vaultdwellerbarbie]

chasing shadows

javi rivera x f!reader (8.5k wc)

summary after the trauma of losing three friends, your boyfriend javi becomes incredibly distant and leaves for the military with as little as a note. when he finds out that kate had helped you get a job with her in new york upon asking her to come back to oklahoma with him, neither of you are sure how to proceed

content warnings smut, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (don't try this at home), angst with a happy ending, trauma/near death experiences, probably more than half of this is tooth-rotting fluff, heavy mentions of freckles i'm so sorry i love them, idiots in love trope

hi all!!! i'm moving tomorrow and may not have time to write full fics until august 4th - if anyone has any hc requests for any or all characters pls send them almost a week without posting fics abt my beautiful twisters characters makes me sad

When you were a witness to three of your closest friends dying, and happened to only escape by the skin of your teeth, you figured that it couldn’t get much worse than that. 

Coping with what had happened was difficult, but you had survived. Kate had survived - even though Kate ran to New York City - and your boyfriend, Javi, had survived. So long as you had Javi with you, you reasoned, you were going to be able to recover from what had happened. You had lost them, but you hadn’t lost the person who you loved more than anything.

Kate, before leaving for Manhattan, encouraged you to keep him close. She had watched the beginning of your relationship - really, she had taken part in it. Her and Addy had been the ones that played matchmaker to get the both of you together since they were absolutely sick of watching you pine over each other like needy teenagers. She had lost her partner in the storm, and she was a constant reminder that you were lucky that you still had Javi. She reminded him that he was lucky that he still had you, too, since you had been by her side when the storm hit. You didn’t stay back with him, data collection wasn’t your role in the group. 

When you came back, he had to search hospital after hospital to find the two of you. Javi had no idea whether you were alive or not, and that was what killed him the most.

In the hospital, he promised to never leave your side, just as he had promised to Kate that he wasn’t going to take your relationship for granted. He had almost lost you, and he vowed that he was never going to allow himself to lose sight of you again.

For the first few months, you tried to find purpose in your life. While Javi was struggling to even think of a place where he could work, you ended up working at a local news station in the meteorology department. Javi wasn’t bringing any money home, but you didn’t expect him to. He moved in with you for a while, and you had hoped that the two of you were going to be able to recover. 

The first time you saw him smiling again was the first sign of hope you had that he was going to be able to get better, to at least get himself out of the house for more than the few hours that you went out with him. That hopefulness ended up being foolish, though. 

Javi did end up deciding to to out more, just not with you. Not with… anyone that he knew, and he certainly didn’t get a local job.

In a note that he left on your nightstand, seemingly after sneaking out in the early hours of the morning, he let you know that he had made a decision to join the military. Some part of you wanted to understand that he was coping, but you were coping too. You had done everything in your power to be there for him, to support him, to help him find some sort of peace in his life, and after promising to never let you out of his sight, he decided that he couldn’t find that peace with you in it. 

At first, you tried moving in with family. You couldn’t stand the idea of being alone for even a second, and you now had to add heartbroken onto the loss of your friends and your near-death experience. It was the very next day after his unannounced departure that you decided to move in with family, the very first time that you questioned if you had a purpose on the planet at all or if you were just being thrown into a sick joke after a sick joke until you finally got the memo that your time on this Earth was limited. 

Living at home lasted for about a week and a half before you reached out to Kate. She was, of course, dismayed that Javi had left without doing anything more than leaving a note. You still had his phone number, you could have reached out to him, but after the first day, you didn’t even consider it. He had chosen to break his promise, and you weren’t sure that you wanted him to respond. Did you want to hear his voice? Did you want to have a text message read and ignored by him? The risk felt like it outweighed the reward. So, while you were technically the one who went no-contact, it was his own choices that led you down that path. 

A day after your phone call with Kate, she called you back to let you know that there was an opening within her organization. It was more akin to what you had been doing, working in the meteorology department, but you would be reporting to a partner of the company and delivering the forecast on the news. The job sounded daunting, just speaking in front of that many people seemed scary to you, but it also seemed like a fresh start.

Plus, some petty, juvenile part of your brain wanted Javi to turn the weather on and be forced to see you one way or another. Granted, he probably wasn’t getting Manhattan-local weather wherever he was stations, but it was the thought that counted. 

So, with a little fee for breaking your lease early, you moved into a shoebox apartment in Manhattan with a single roommate because you didn’t trust yourself to have a place all to yourself. Not with your deteriorating mental health. 

After a while, you fell into the rhythm of things. Romance was something that never came back to you, but you also never looked for it. Sometimes, you considered doing something to bring some sort of romance back into your life. Mainly, you would try to go to a nice bar after work and consider bringing someone home after having yet another night’s sleep haunted by dreams of Javi and painful memories of the tornado. Each time, if someone got a little too close, you got clammy and ran. Maybe it was a refusal to have your heart broken again, or maybe it was because you just couldn’t find anyone who compared to him in your mind.

At one point, years later, you had received a message from Javi. Rather than send an actual apology, he just asked if you could call him. Naturally, rather than confronting your feelings and your past, you pretended that he had the wrong number. Was it the mature decision? Not at all. But, considering the fact that he had run away with little consideration for your feelings to do something that he had never once mentioned as being something that he was interested in, you weren’t convinced that the mature decision was something that he actually deserved.

It wasn’t until he showed up at the office that you forgot how to behave. 

Having decided to visit Kate in the morning to bring her coffee, something that you did every morning if she was starting after you, you didn’t expect to end up having her tell you to ‘come along’ to the conference room since she was certain that it wasn’t something you could at least sit outside of. Breakfast together was something sacred to you both, and everyone knew that. She, of course, could never have anticipated that the person that she was meeting with was the person who’s face, smile, freckles, and cold exit haunted your every waking moment whenever you let your mind wander to what could have been. 

Now, in your mind, there were two options. Option one, you could choose the flight response and leave the room just as quickly as Javi had turned to face you. Or, option two, you could choose the fight response and get into an argument with him right then and there about why he had done what he had done and how it had hurt you. Instead, you decided upon a secret third option in which you stood there silently, refusing to meet his eyes, playing with the sleeve of your shirt while he spoke with Kate.

If it weren’t for Kate dragging you along with her, you probably would have remained glued to that office floor for the rest of the work day just trying to figure out if what had just happened was real. But what had happened was real, and even though he had changed his hair and come back with a new look, he was still Javi. He still looked at you as though he was still in love with you even though you were certain that he never was, and he was still the person who had made you question if romantic love even existed. 

What began as an invitation for just Kate to come to Oklahoma, ended up being an invitation for the both of you to come. Both of you rejected it, but while Kate rushed out of the diner, you remained glued to your seat - this seemed to be a common occurrence.

“Are you going to come?”

“What?” That being the first thing either of you said to each other was certainly not how you would have ever hoped to reunite with him - but had you ever been hoping to reunite with him to begin with. Your heart was heavy just looking at him. Not just because you remembered the most recently feeling associated with Javi, being pain and heartbreak. But because you remembered the love that you had for him, and how much you adored every feature on his face, how it had become habit for you to trace and count the freckles on his skin and to stare at him when he smiled like he hung the moon in the sky. That pain went a lot deeper than feeling betrayed, because it took everything in you to not ask him if you could ever try again. 

“Are you going to come to Oklahoma?”

“Oh, uh, you heard Kate… so. I should probably get going, it was nice seeing you.”

“Wait-”

“I’ve gotta go. Late for work.” 

Without giving him another glance, you almost sprinted out of the door and back to the office. 

The rest of the day was filled with pain for you, pain even with Kate’s company because all you could think about wasn’t how he had hurt you, but how much you missed him. You almost wanted to text him, to tell him that you’d go. If you were being honest, you genuinely were interested in what he was describing. If it was what he said it was, perhaps what you had all wanted to have as an end goal to begin with was possible. But, beyond that, you knew that you were never going to stop missing him; you knew that you would never stop being in love with him.

Still, you held firm in your position to not reach out - how could you even explain to him that he actually did have the right number without sounding juvenile? Maybe you shouldn’t worry too much about that, since he was the one that left you to begin with. But you still worried, and you still couldn’t bring yourself to text him because as far as you were concerned, his efforts to patch things up had been abysmal at best. 

The next morning, Kate was incredibly forward with her desire to go back to Oklahoma. That was how you ended up on a plane with her even though you weren’t one hundred percent certain that you were making the right decision. It was one thing to go back to the place where you experienced your worst trauma, another to do the exact same thing you were doing that traumatized you in the first place, and it was only made worse with the added knowledge that you were going to be doing it all alongside the person who had left you more broken than you already were to begin with. 

Arriving in a place that was once so familiar to you should have felt like coming home after a long time away. In a sense, it did. Everything was something that you recognized at least in some capacity, and you couldn’t proclaim that you didn’t feel some sort of familiarity when Javi came to pick yourself and Kate up from the airport, but that certainly didn’t aid with your discomfort. Regardless of how comfortable you wanted to portray yourself, you were incredibly, incredibly worried about spending a week with Javi. In general, you just weren’t sure that you could handle it. Especially since he had taken the time to learn how to dress and smell nicely, rather than you just finding him attractive in anything he wore.

Still, you couldn’t deny that he would still be attractive in anything regardless of what it was. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how upset with him you were, you couldn’t deny that you still found him to be the most attractive person you knew - but maybe that was jut because you were in love with him.

The first day was a bit rocky for everyone. Kate hadn’t been able to go through with the chase and you had been so distracted with trying to help her that you weren’t able to do much to stop her. When she rushed you all into the car, you presumed that she knew what she was doing; Kate always knew was she was doing, so you trusted her. When it became clear that she didn’t, that she was just afraid, you could understand why. You had seen a few tornadoes since the last one, lived through them since you didn’t leave immediately, so you were a bit more desensitized to it. But chasing again was a different story, and it invoked a lot of memories that you had hoped would stay buried in your subconscious until you returned home at the very least. 

When you were able to return to your motel, you ended up spending part of the night out talking to some of the people tailgating in the parking lot. Javi had invited yourself and Kate, though you were certain that he knew just as well as you did how awkward it was going to be. That was why he didn’t mind so much when you broke off from awkward, stiff conversations to talk to Dani and Lily. They were, technically, the rivals to Storm Par, but he had done enough damage to your relationship and didn’t really feel any desire or need to do anything more to it.

Although you were a bit nervous to look at him, you would have been entirely blind to miss the longing glances. How every time you smiled - according to Lily - his entire face lit up before he started ‘pouting like you kicked him in the nuts’. When the Wranglers started dissipating into their rooms, the groupies that followed them did, too. There were only a few remaining stragglers, two of which being yourself and Javi.

“Thank you for inviting me.” Your voice was quiet, but your words were the same that you would give to a friend or a relative inviting you out for something or another. It should have been nothing more than that, it should have meant nothing more than that, but you knew that it meant something else. Even though you’d barely spent any time with him directly, you’d spent some time with him, a lot more time than you had since he left.

“Anytime, you should-” Javi paused, walking you to the steps of the motel. You let him walk up with you, it was the gentlemanly thing to do. Any man would do the same thing, was what you reasoned to yourself, even if it meant nothing since you were no longer in a relationship. “You should come out more often.”

“To Oklahoma? That would be pretty expensive.” You knew what he was really saying, but some part of you wanted to deflect it as much as you could.

“No- well, if you want to. But, no, I mean while you’re here. These don’t really stop unless something really bad happens. You know that.” You did know that, you used to do this with him all the time. The difference, though, was that even before you were dating him you spent the entire night glued to his side. Whether he was making you laugh, or it was the other way around - or, even, you just sat closely together because you liked being close together. 

For a moment, your mind was lost in a memory of a tailgate after a chase, a relatively calm chase at that. It was a bit busier outside than usual, not quite as humid as it could have been so more people were out and enjoying the weather and the company. You, however, got a little cold after a while. Sitting next to Javi, he noticed. He lent you his jacket, he let you fall asleep on him, and he held you until he felt just a little bit unsafe sitting outside since most people were in bed and it was getting incredibly late. That was the night in which you realized that you loved him, but now you were just left wondering if it ever really mattered just how much you loved him - how much you still love him. 

“Maybe, depends how tired I am I guess.” You responded, finally reaching the door to your motel room. You expected to just hear him bid you a goodnight, but you felt him lightly place a hand on your shoulder. 

Turning to face him, your breath hitched in your throat as you noticed how close he actually was. 

“Sorry.” Javi dropped his hand from your shoulder, but he almost seemed like he didn’t want to do so.

“It’s okay.” Your voice was meek, because a part of you craved his physical touch more than anything, just- something. A hug, even, a handshake. Something, after being apart for so long. You wanted him close more than anything, but that felt like it was something entirely out of your reach at this point. 

“I just wanted to talk to you- I wanted to tell you that I fucked up.”

“With the scanners?”

“No, I- I’m sorry, I’m so sorry about- I shouldn’t have left you like that, I regret it every day and I know nothing I can say to make it up to you but I just want you to know.”

You weren’t sure what to say, what you could say without crying. You wanted him to apologize years ago, but you also weren’t sure if anything he could ever do or say could make it up to you. 

“Why didn’t you at least keep in contact? I would’ve been okay with you going anywhere, even the military, if you didn’t cut me out. You know I would have supported you.” Just as you had supported him every day that you were together. He knew that, you knew he knew that. It was why it made no sense to you that he seemed to feel as though you wouldn’t be okay with what he had chosen to do. Realistically, you would have missed him, but you would have understood because you truly just wanted him to be okay. 

“I was a coward, that’s why. It had nothing to do with you, I messed up, not you.” Javi seemed to be struggling to find the words he was looking for - he had an expression on his face that was similar to one you had seen Kate pull, one that meant he was trying to find a way around expressing information that made him uncomfortable to even think about again. “I had so much guilt, I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. I’m sorry- you never should have been in the field, not without me, and you needed someone who can protect you, but I missed- I miss you. I miss you so much.” 

“That was never your fault, Javi.” You hated that he felt guilty for not doing more to help, for losing people he loved and almost losing you and Kate as well. Even though you were always upset with him for going without saying anything, you hoped that he had been able to find some sort of peace within himself in the process. He never seemed to conquer that guilt, but you hoped that he would. “I miss you more than anything.” You admitted, your eyes locked on his for only a brief moment before you were in his arms again.

You weren’t entirely sure who initiated the hug, but you couldn’t get enough of having him this close again, of the warmth coming off of his body. He was always so beautiful to you, and even though he looked different now, he was still the most beautiful, warm person you had ever had the absolute pleasure of knowing. A small part of your mind hated how much you still loved him despite everything, but another part of your mind was just happy to have him close. 

The feeling of his face pressed against you made you want to lean in closer, to hold onto him like it was the absolute last thing you were going to do. But, eventually, you had to pull away, to look at him, to speak more to him. 

“I lied about my phone number. I’m sorry.”

He nodded, not looking entirely surprised by that. “I probably deserved that.”

“Do you want to, um, do you want to talk about it more?”

“Please.”

So, for about three hours, you sat with Javi in the motel-room bed, discussing everything that had transpired and where it went wrong. At first, it almost just seemed like a series of apologies. Apologies that morphed into telling each other how your lives had been during the time that you were apart. Story tellings that morphed into you laughing together like nothing had ever happened, which morphed into you letting him hold you while you fell asleep and he practiced being transparent and telling you that he would probably leave while you were asleep since he had a meeting in the morning. 

Even though you fell asleep cuddled up to him, you rejected the impulses to kiss him again, to tell him that you were still terribly in love with him and that he should know. You, still planning on going back to New York, couldn’t be the one to do the very same thing that he had done to you and leave him alone

The next day should have been fine, and it was until the storm. The storm that left you hiding with a bunch of other people for shelter - without any of the people who you cared about the most. You knew that Javi had something to handle with his work, and you knew that Kate was with the cowboy that seemed fond of her. So, you decided that you wanted to explore. Since you hadn’t been around in a while, you wanted to re-experience the things that had once been so familiar to you before everything had gone wrong and you had decided to leave. 

For a while, it felt nice to wander around. But that didn’t last, and by the time you found Javi, you were thoroughly convinced that there was a chance you were never going to see him again.

“Please, please call me if you get stuck in a storm. I just need to know that you’re okay.” Javi’s voice was shaken, even though there were more things that were burdening him. Namely, Kate. Kate was burdening his mind because of their disagreement, because she had taken the car that let her use earlier in the day and run somewhere with it. But he was also shaken because he remembered what it felt like to almost lose you before, and he couldn’t do it again.

“Javi- I have to go back to New York.”

“What? No, no, you can-”

“The motel’s kinda out of service.”

“Stay with me, please. Just stay with me.” 

Staying with Javi was a slippery slope. If you had a vehicle, you could have driven to the family home. As it stood, that was too far away, and renting a car at this hour when a storm had just hit town was out of the question. If you wanted to, you could wait it out in the airport, eventually get an extremely early-morning trip back to Manhattan. Or, you could stay with Javi. The issue with staying with Javi was that you were worried that, if you did, you would never want to leave.

“Please, just one night.” Javi had been petrified of losing you, you knew that. “Just so I know you’re okay.” 

“One night.” 

It was almost sad how badly you wanted to pull him closer, to kiss him because a small part of you was worried that you were never going to be able to again since you were so ill-prepared for that storm. Instead, you settled on giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek and let him drive you back to where he lived. 

For about an hour you tried to sleep alone in his room while he slept on the couch, but when you couldn’t stop tossing and turning you found yourself lying awake. The underlying fear that another surprise would come from mother nature that evening was something that you couldn’t fully shake, even though it was incredibly unlikely. But then there was Javi. As much as you tried to think about something else, to distract yourself, all you could really think about was him. You hated that he was sleeping on the couch in his own home, that this bed smelled so much like him.

Finally deciding that you had enough, you got up from the bed and walked into the main room. He was still awake, texting one of his co-workers from the looks of it. There was a deep frown on his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he read whatever he was being sent. Even though he had denied earlier that he felt wrong about what he was doing while he was talking to Kate, it was clear that some part of him did. Maybe, though, it was her that got through to him and made him question if he was okay with his own actions or not.

“Javi?”

“You’re still awake, do you need anything?” He questioned, turning the phone off and giving you his full attention.

“You shouldn’t sleep out here, it’s not right.” 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

As you walked closer to the couch, Javi moved into a sitting position so you had room to sit beside him. Theoretically, you could have chosen to sit on the opposite end of the couch. Instead, your body naturally decided to sit closer to him than you needed to.

“I’m not comfortable being alone right now.” It was something that you didn’t really want to admit, even to yourself. Growing up surrounded by storms, chasing them, it was something that you were used to. But you had almost died doing this before, and you had been caught entirely off guard by this one. Showing fear in the face of something that you were used to made you feel weak, and Javi could see the insecurity in your eyes when you told him that. That’s why he didn’t give any more thought to his own worries and agreed to join you in the bed. 

It didn’t take more than five minutes for you to swallow your pride and cuddle up to him, and his warm and welcoming arms allowed you to hear just how quickly his heart was beating. You couldn’t deny that you missed the feeling of his warmth, of his touch, of being with him like this. You had never stopped missing him, even though you tried to convince yourself that you were okay and at peace with what had happened. While you had predominantly found peace with your trauma, you could never find it with the idea of not having Javi in your life.

The feeling of his fingers tracing shapes into your skin distracted you from your thoughts, your mind beginning to slow down as you were lulled to sleep. 

When you woke up, you almost expected Javi to have already left. Last night was chaotic, and given the nature of his company, you were certain that he was going to have a lot to deal with. But there he still was, fast asleep with his phone still charging on the night stand. Often, you woke up before him when you were still together. It was how you got so good at making breakfast, even though your heart was always warm when he made an effort to get up early to make you breakfast instead. 

There was an urge within you to get up and do what you always did when you woke up before him, but you had no idea how long he could stay after he woke up or what he even had in his kitchen. It felt like overstepping your boundaries to go in there and just start cooking without even asking first. 

Besides, you were content to just lay there watching him. You always liked having time to observe him, to count the freckles on his face and enjoy the sight of him entirely relaxed. Even though you were both a little bit older, and he had cut his hair and shaved, he was still the man who you once knew. He was a little wiser now, though. A little more responsible than he was when you were with him before. 

As nice as it was, you grew worried after about thirty minutes. Assuredly, it was getting late and he needed to get up. Having lost your phone during the storm, you also had business that you were going to take care of during business hours. Mainly, though, you knew that Javi was messaging people about work late into the night, and as much as you wanted to watch him and let him rest, you also didn’t want him to get into any sort of trouble. Glancing toward the nightstand again, you finally found a small digital clock - it was partially concealed by a cup, but with a quick movement you finally took note of the time. It was a little bit after eleven in the morning, and you were certain that Javi should have been up by now.

After a momentary internal debate, you finally decided that you needed to do the responsible thing and wake him up. 

“Javi, I think you overslept.” Your voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb him too much as he blinked awake. You knew that he was never the biggest morning person in the world, so being too harsh with him was just going to make him pout.

“What time is it?”

“A little after eleven.” 

His eyes widened for a second, glancing at the clock. He grabbed his phone to make sure, and from the amount of scrolling he was doing it was clear that he missed a lot. You moved to get off of him, expecting him to drop the phone and run to get dressed as quickly as possible. Instead, he sent a single (long) message and set the phone back down as he turned back to look at you.

“Aren’t you going to get up?”

“The only storm today is pretty small, Scott can handle things for one day.” Scott seemed to have an easier time handling things than Javi did to begin with, though you were certain it was because he had a lot less of a heart than Javi did. “We weren’t planning on chasing today, so unless the predictions get upgraded…”

“What happened to mister responsibility?”

“I’m doing the responsible thing.” 

“By calling out of work?”

“By spending the day with you, I have more responsibilities than just my job.” Even though he wasn’t in a rush to get to work, he did still sit up. You sat up with him, your heart beating a bit faster than it was before. Javi was being somewhat presumptuous, but you had slept in the same bed as him for two nights in a row. If you had no interest in spending time with him, he would know that. But, that wasn’t the case. “Wanna get lunch?”

So, you got lunch with him. You spent probably too much time at the restaurant with him, and for the first time, you didn’t really think about the past. Really, you didn’t need to. You and Javi had both changed, but in a lot of ways, you were still the same. Some tiny, miniscule part of your mind was still upset with him, but you knew you had no reason to be anymore. He had done everything he could do to apologize, and was now choosing to spend time with you instead of running off to do work. 

After lunch, he took you to get a new phone. Of course, that took a lot longer than either of you wanted it to take. It wouldn’t be until late afternoon that you were finally able to feel fresh air on your skin again, but, you at the very least came out of that waking nightmare being able to respond to the voicemail that Kate had left you inquiring if you needed a place to stay or if you were going back to New York. When she heard you had stayed with Javi, she was a bit conflicted based upon her tones, but she wanted to figure that you knew what you were doing even if she wholly disagreed with it. 

Finally, Javi decided to take you to a park - a park that it didn’t take you very long to recognize was familiar to you. The weather was looking better after the early afternoon, low-damage tornado. 

“The week’s half over, isn’t it?” He asked, drawing your attention away from the playground in the distance. You had come here with him and the rest of your friends before, you knew he lived close to it but you weren’t sure if he went here often. Granted, you also did a lot of work here. There weren’t too many wifi coffee shops in the area at the time, so you often just volunteered one of your hotspots and did your course work in the park. Things were typically moved inside once you got your hands on the van. 

“According to my calculations, yes.” 

“You excited to go back?” Javi did his best to keep his voice level, to not give you too much of an indication of how he was actually feeling about the idea of you going back without actually putting any pressure on you to answer in any particular way. Just because you were okay with spending time with him now didn’t mean you would stay just because of him. The thing was, if he asked you to, you would - you might not quite realize it without it happening, but you would.

“Not particularly excited, no.” You admitted, sitting down with him on a park bench. “It’s been nice not having to be on people’s television every morning.”

“Right, forgot you were doing that. What’s it like being a celebrity?”

“Wouldn’t say local access news makes me a celebrity.” You retorted, especially since you were only on for half of the week unless there was a big storm coming. Most of the time, you were in the office. “I think you’d be a good weatherboy, so long as you don’t get on camera with Cheeto dust on your face.”

“I’ve actually cut back on those!” 

“You know, there was a shocking lack of red powder on your blankets I must admit.” 

“I was never that gross, was I?”

“I guess not, when you remembered to shower.” 

To be clear, he never went a whole week without showering, but three days - four days? He typically just forgot because he was too invested in what he was working on, so you took it upon yourself to remind him that he needed a work-life balance. The mere fact that he had even come out here with you, done things with you today, when he could have been working said a lot about his willingness to actually start having a work-life balance. But, Javi had changed a lot in general. His hair was shorter, he was more responsible, he had a lot more equipment, and he had seemed to be at some level of peace with what happened. Obviously, there’s no forgetting it or ever being the same, but he wasn’t depressed about it anymore. 

“So, um, you’re okay with me staying the full week right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well-”

“Just keep in mind that we can’t oversleep tomorrow.” 

“I think you’re the one who overslept.” You responded, but you did too. You slept until pretty close to eleven in the morning, that was a lot later than you typically had to get up for work. Being in his arms was calming, it was the best sleep you had gotten in a long time. But you weren’t sure how to admit that, or if you even should. “Javi, I- uh…” 

“What’s wrong? Do you want me to sleep on the couch?”

“What? No. I kinda… I don’t- maybe I want to stay a little longer.”

“Oh.” There was a twitch of a smile on his face, but he subdued it by clearing his throat. “You can stay as long as you want.”

“It won’t bother you? I don’t know how used to the one-person apartment life you’ve gotten.” 

“I promise, it won’t bother me.” 

You nodded, glancing down at your hands before taking a breath - why not air out more of your conscience? It seemed like as good a place as any to do so. 

“Last night, I was really scared about- just about what happened, I guess, since I wasn’t prepared.” You hardly ever talked to him about your trauma from the past, because you didn’t need to. You had no reason to explain it to him because he had it too, even though he had been a bit safer than you had been. “But I was worried I wouldn’t see you again, mainly. I don’t want to not see you again.” 

The feeling of a hand on your shoulder forced you to look up at him, your eyes locking on his. He always was so beautiful to you, but the caring look in his eyes really just made you want to look into them forever. 

“I can’t handle the idea of not having you in my life again.” His words made your breath hitch, your eyes not parting from his for a moment. You were both silent, unclear where to go from there. 

Ultimately, it was you who broke through the invisible fence that separated the two of you. You who gingerly placed your hand on his cheek and leaned in, but it was him who closed the deal with a sense of relief and urgency that knocked the air out of your lungs. 

Javi’s hand found the back of your neck, his other hand resting on your hip to urge you closer so the kiss was more comfortable. You kept your hand on his cheek, your thumb moving over those freckles of his that you had missed touching and seeing more than anything. Your other hand rested on his forearm, holding him as closely as possible. 

It wasn’t until he deepened the kiss that you pulled back enough to speak, enough to take a breath. Your forehead rested against his, even though you were suddenly aware of your public surroundings. 

“You should take me home.”

“I should take you home.” 

The ride back to his place was an absolute nightmare. Whether it be your distress from the feeling of his hand against your thigh, or his distress from the way that you wouldn’t stop staring at him and playing with his fingers every time he touched you. At some point, he tried to ban you from looking at his arms because it was ‘stressing him the fuck out’, but you eventually made it in the door. 

It’s important to note that you only made it in the door, because you didn’t make it much further before he pushed you against the wall.

Javi had his lips against your neck fairly quickly, his hand sneaking down your body at a tortuous pace. You kept a hand tangled in his hair, your eyes never leaving him. 

“Did I tell you that I like your haircut?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, I really like your haircut.”

“I like yours too, but I like everything about you.” 

Grabbing his face, you rested your hands on his cheeks, his movements stilling as your thumbs brushed against his soft skin.

“I want the first time we do this again to be in your bed.” 

Javi’s eyes softened before he leaned in to press a chate kiss against your mouth before taking your hand to lead you into the bedroom. 

He took his time removing the clothing from your body, which was a lot more than you could say for yourself as you frantically tore item after item off of him before both of you were finally left in your underwear. He seemed amused as he kicked off the pants he was wearing, amused at the way you eyed him, at how eagerly your hands ran across his body. 

“You really missed me, huh?”

“I should hope you really missed me too.” 

“I did, more than you know. 

You let Javi push you back against the bed, your eyes locked on his as a slight smile covered your lips.

“Are you gonna show me?”

“Trust me, I’m gonna show you.” He motioned you to the top of the bed, following you and caging you in beneath him. “Sure you’re ready?”

“Don’t get cocky.” You replied, but you couldn’t help the wide smile that covered your face when you saw him smiling for just a moment. His smile had always been infectious to you, it was the thing that gave away to Kate that you were in love with him to begin with considering how you looked at him whenever he smiled. But that smile also always distracted you, which was how you just didn’t notice the feeling of his hand trailing down your body until he had a finger beneath the fabric of your panties, swirling around your seemingly already wet clit. “Fuck-”

“Just making sure you’re ready.”

Javi was always generous in bed, the only times he wasn’t was when you were both pressed for time but in desperate need of being together so you didn’t spend an entire day hot and bothered for no good reason. You had merely forgotten just how eager he was to please, though, he was often eager to be pleased as well which you were grateful for since you absolutely loved to hear him let loose. 

As much as you wanted to kiss him, it was a bit too intimate for a brief moment as his fingers dripped inside of you, the heel of his hand brushing up against your clit with each movement. To lock eyes with him, to be this vulnerable in front of him for the first time in five years, was a lot. It was overwhelming, but the intimacy was needed. You were certain that you could see the pent up emotions, the love, behind his eyes - and he was certain that he could see it behind yours, too. 

After a moment, you stopped staring at him so you could feel his mouth against yours. While He enjoyed the sounds coming from your mouth, he enjoyed feeling them against his lips even more. Everything felt both new and familiar, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you never wanted to be apart from him again. 

Maybe it was just because you were so pent up, or maybe it was because he had put his best effort into the way in which his fingers moved inside of you, but you could feel yourself getting lost in the feeling a bit too much. When your kisses became weaker, Javi’s lips trailed down your jaw, settling on your upper neck where his teeth lightly grazed your skin. 

His fingers curled inside of you, your hips arching off of the bed for a moment before he used his free hand to keep you from gyrating too much. You tried to keep your eyes locked on him. On his face, his hair, everything about him. But it was just too overwhelming. 

The smell of him surrounding you, the feeling of his mouth against you, of his fingers inside of you - it was all so much at once, and if it weren’t Javi, you would have been embarrassed about how quickly you came on his fingers. 

Javi gave you a moment to calm down before bringing his face to be level with yours again, his hand slowly pulling out from your panties before playing with the hem of the fabric. 

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything.” 

With that confirmation, Javi quickly pulled the last remaining article of clothing from your body while you removed the boxers that separated you from him. there was a feeling of relief, of familiarity, that came along with being able to be this close to Javi again. You missed him more than anything when you were apart from him, so feeling him push inside of you once again made you question if you were even okay with being apart from him when you both needed to do something as simple as work. 

Once he had pushed all the way inside of you, he gave you a moment to adjust. Bringing a hand to grab onto his hand, he turned it so you could intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Before we do this, I need to tell you that I love you.”

His breath hitched for a moment, his eyes widening before a smile covered his lips. “I love you too, so, so much.”

You were almost taken aback by how swiftly he leaned down to kiss you, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him back. It was incredibly eager, but it made you laugh, too. You felt like whatever part of you that had been feeling incomplete was complete again, complete because you were with Javi again, because he had made an effort to make things better, and because after all that time apart you were still just as in love with each other as you had been before anything had ever gone wrong. 

Once he started moving inside of you, you knew that you were a goner. Your fingers squeezed his hand, your leg wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. The sounds inside of the room were obscene, the mumbled words of affection and the moans coming tumbling against each other’s lips - you were just glad that he didn’t have roommates. 

Javi didn’t really hold back, but you didn’t expect him to. You had both been apart, you needed this just as much as he did. You needed to feel his hips grinding against yours, to feel him moving in and out of you in a pace that was both needy and caring. No matter what, it was always clear to you how much he cared about making you feel good. Never did he do anything too rough, and if he got a little rough he would always catch himself and make sure that you were okay. But this was something wholly different, because it was almost like it was muscle memory for him, like he knew exactly what to do to make sure that you both felt as good as possible. 

Your body arched into his naturally, and Javi seemed to get the memo that you simply wanted him as close as possible as he let his hips push you down a bit. The feeling of his warm skin against yours had your fingers tightening around his hand, you weren’t sure how you could get any closer than this but you were sure that you would do it if there was something more that you could do. 

Bringing a hand down your body, you felt Javi press his fingers against your clit. You could feel his smile as you accidentally bit down on his lip, a moan leaving his mouth as he felt you soothing the bite with your tongue. 

His hips became more erratic, your moans melding together against each others lips as you became too distracted to be wholly invested in a kiss. It was incredibly intimate having him this close again, knowing that he wants to be this close to you after everything that has happened between the two of you. 

As you squeeze him throughout your own orgasm, it takes everything for him to not finish right then and there. But he holds off until you’ve ridden out your orgasm, pulling out to finish on your inner thigh 

It takes a few moments of sloppy kisses before you both get up, taking a shower together before ultimately crawling into bed. You’re surrounded as him as you do. By his smell, by his skin as he holds you tightly against his body, by the feeling of his clothing being on your body as you cuddle into him in the bed.

“I want you to stay, I don’t ever want you to go back to Manhattan.”

Glancing at him, your head lifting from his chest, you see the nervous expression on his lips upon confessing that to you and merely smile reassuringly. “I want to stay, Javi. I never want to leave you again.”

He lets out a breath, leaning in for a soft kiss. Your fingers brush through his wet hair, before resting on his cheek. Pulling away, you can’t help the giddy smile that covers your lips as you look at him. You may have gone through a lot of issues together, and apart, but it was clear that you both understood that you were better together.

Some part of you was always sure that he was going to end up in front of you again, that your life was never meant to be one without Javi, and you just couldn’t help but be beyond happy and relieved to know that part of you was right. Javi, you were sure, was always meant to come back to you - and you were always meant to be with him. Now all you really needed to worry about was making up for lost time and settling into your new (or… old… familiar) way of life.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 1

(A/N) Aaaaaahhhh, I loved the prompt by @lunamoonbby and I'm so glad they allowed me to write a whole fic about it. Will probably write a second part because this is just too cute!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: lots of fluff

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

A deep sigh escaped your lips when the door closed behind the last customer. It had been a long and tiring day, your legs had started hurting five hours ago, and all you wanted to do was finish closing the bakery and head home. But there was a lot to do before you could, so you put on some music and got started.

Quietly singing along, you disappeared into the kitchen, where you portioned the cupcake dough you had made earlier into the baking trays and slid them into the oven, setting a time on your phone before you started cleaning. As quickly as possible, you washed all the bowls, whiskers, and anything else that had gotten dirty that day, the thought of your bed ever present in your mind. Once you were done with that, you quickly vacuumed the floor and were about to wipe it, when a familiar sound stopped you.

The bell that hung above the door to the bakery rang out and you cursed at yourself. Had you really forgotten to lock the door after the last customer left? With another sigh, you walked into the salesroom, an annoyed ‘We’re closed’ almost leaving your lips before your eyes fell onto the little girl who had walked in. Her eyes were big and round, shining with unshed tears while her lips trembled.

“Oh dear, are you okay?”

You rushed to her side and knelt down in front of her, reaching out to gently grasp her shoulder.

“I…I l-lost da-daddy.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears began to stream down her cheeks, her little shoulders shaking with every hiccup as she tried to suppress the sobs. Without thinking, you pulled her into a hug, her little fingers immediately curling into the fabric of the shirt you were wearing.

You stayed like that, hugging the little girl until she calmed down a bit, her body still shaking with hiccups. But you pulled away, gently swiping the tears away, as you gave her a reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ll find your daddy, yeah?”

She nodded, though she didn’t seem too confident. Convincing her would take some work.

“Okay, let’s start with your name, hm? Can you tell me that?”

“Mi-Millie.”

Your smile pulled into a grin, that you hoped looked proud.

“Great! Now, what’s your daddy called?”

Millie looked at you, confused.

“Daddy.”

You should’ve expected that answer. After all, she looked to be about four. What four-year-old knew their parent’s actual name?

“Oki dok. Do you know any way I can reach him? His phone number?”

She shook her head, a pout forming on her lips as she glanced at the floor. You hesitated for a second, but you didn’t know what else to do.

“Okay, let me just grab my coat and we’ll go to the police station nearby. I’m sure he would go there to look for you.”

But before you could rise to your feet, Millie reached out and stopped you, a panicked look on her face.

“No! We…We can’t go to the police. They don’t like daddy.”

Her statement confused you, but with the way she looked at you, you couldn’t force her to go either. While you were contemplating what to do, the timer on your phone went off and you got an idea to at least keep her busy until you came up with something. With a smirk, you looked at her.

“Do you like cupcakes?”

Millie looked confused but nodded. You rose to your feet and held out your hand, offering it to her.

“Want to decorate some while we wait for your daddy? You can even decorate one for him.”

A bright smile spread across her lips and you couldn’t help but fall in love with it. She nodded full of enthusiasm, her worries gone for at least the moment. So, after helping her out of her jacket and with her hand in yours, you led her to the kitchen and sat her down on the counter. You were just glad that the kitchen had a window front to the street. That way, if her father came along, he would be able to see her inside.

“Wait here for me, okay?”

She nodded and watched as you carefully pulled the hot trays out of the oven and placed them on a counter, far away from the little girl. You then checked the fridge, to see if there was any buttercream left, but there wasn’t. So you grabbed all the ingredients and walked back to Millie.

“Do you want to help me make some buttercream? We can even color it.”

Her eyes lit up and she nodded vigorously. After you put an oversized apron on her, you showed her a simple buttercream recipe, Millie snacking on it the whole time while you made it. Once it was done, you portioned it into different small bowls.

“What colors do you want?”

“Pink! And purple and blue and green and also yellow.”

You chuckled and nodded, pulling the needed food colors from a shelve. As you slowly placed them with the bowls, Millie reached up and tugged on your sleeve.

“Can we also make some black? Daddy really likes black.”

You again nodded and retrieved the last color. Together, you colored the buttercream, Millie whisking away at the pink one, while you quickly finished the other colors. Once you were both happy, you showed Millie how to put all the different colors she chose into the same pipe, so that it would be a colorful swirl when put onto a cupcake. She watched, her eyes wide and sparkling as if you were showing her how to create magic dust.

Once the cupcakes had cooled enough, you brought three over, one for each of you and one for her dad. While you carefully guided her hands, showing her how to use the pipe, you watched her as she poked her tongue out in concentration. A soft smile spread on your lips as adoration for the little kid overcame you.

Once all three cupcakes had buttercream on them, it was time for sprinkles. Millie of course wanted a lot of sparkles, hearts, and bows. While she was busy combing through the different sprinkle containers you had, you retrieved a large chocolate heart from the fridge. You used it to decorate cakes, but you thought Millie would love it. But for the moment, you decided to hide it, only wanting to reveal it when they were done.

“Did you find something you like?”

Millie nodded, while still looking through the containers.

“Do you have skulls?”

It took you a moment to realize that she was still talking about sprinkles. Once you overcame that initial shock, you nodded and retrieved another box, the one you kept the seasonal sprinkles in. You handed the little girl a container filled with small skulls, pumpkins, and spiders and she smiled.

“Daddy really likes skulls.”

You smiled as you stored that information. Black and skulls and not on good terms with the police. Sounds dangerous.

For the next few minutes, you decorated the cupcakes. For your own, you decided to go with your favorite sprinkles and a bit of glitter. Millie truly overdid her own and her father’s cupcake, but you couldn’t help but smile as you watched her concentrate, trying to find a free spot where one more skull sprinkle would fit.

Just as she found the spot and pressed the white form into the buttercream, the bell above the door rang out again and you could hear fast footsteps approaching. Both you and Millie turned to look toward the door and you couldn’t help but step in front of the little girl, shielding her body with yours. But then you heard it.

“Millie!”

A large man burst through the door, wild eyes finding yours before they jumped to the girl behind you.

“Daddy!”

With a relieved sigh, he fell to his knees, opening his arms as his little girl bolted toward him, almost stumbling over the apron on her way. She crashed into his chest, wrapping her short, little arms around his neck as best as she could. A soft smile tugged on your lips as you watched the duo. His brows were furrowed, but not in an angry way. No, he looked scared and desperate, but at the same time so very relieved.

Not picking up on her dad’s whirlwind of emotion, Millie immediately began talking, telling him all about the cupcakes. The man glanced up at you as his daughter pulled out of his hug and rushed back to the counter. As soon as your eyes met his, you felt a shiver run through you. You couldn’t explain it, but the way he looked at you felt…intimate.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look what we made.”

Millie quickly had his attention again, as the man joined her at the counter, his eyes landing on the cupcakes.

“We made them. There is one for me. And one for you. And one for her!”

He smiled - good god did he look stunning when he smiled - as he watched Millie point out all the details.

“Well done, munchkin. Why don’t you finish up so we can go home, hm?”

Millie nodded, not reacting when he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head before he turned to you. Oozing confidence, he took a few steps toward you, only stopping once he was close enough that you could smell his cologne. Another shiver ran through you at the proximity, as you had to crane your neck to meet his eyes.

“I’m Simon. Thank you for…well, for taking care of her.”

You smiled, and for a moment Simon stopped breathing. The moment he spotted you through the window front he knew you were beautiful, but smiling up at him, you were just stunning, his fingers itching to reach out and feel you against him.

“It was a pleasure.”

Your eyes left his and landed on Millie as she poured more sprinkles onto her cupcake.

“She is amazing. Told me not to go to the police, because they don’t like you.”

You chuckled, expecting him to do the same, but he avoided your eyes as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“She’s not wrong there. I-”

He was interrupted by Millie calling for him. And with an apologetic smile, he joined her at the counter. While the two were busy, you decided to quickly clean whatever you could, the rest you would do the next morning. Once you were done, you grabbed a box and the heart you had hidden, before walking up to the pair. Millie was showing Simon how you had put all the different colors into the piping bag, as he reacted with ‘ohs’ and ahs’ at exactly the right moments. You smiled as you watched, quickly catching Simon’s attention, as he glanced at you with a crooked grin.

“Millie?”

The little girl stopped and looked up at her dad, who gently motioned toward you. As soon as she saw the heart you were holding on a napkin, she started bouncing with excitement. Carefully, you handed it to her and watched as she stuck it into the buttercream on her cupcake, a big grin on her face.

After a few moments of her admiring it, you convinced her to let you box up the cupcakes, so she could leave with her father. While you did that, Simon carried his daughter to the sink, where he helped her wash her hands, before he dried them for her. With the box, you met them in the salesroom, where Simon was helping his daughter into her jacket. You knelt down and carefully handed the box to her.

“Don’t drop it, okay?”

She nodded and grinned, watching as you rose back to your feet. Simon was standing beside her, his wallet in his hands. Before he could say anything, you shook your head.

“No, it’s fine, really.”

“But-”

“I insist. It was a pleasure to spend time with your daughter.”

He smiled, and before you could protest, he shoved a few notes into the tip jar on the counter. You inhaled, ready to protest, but when you looked at him, you knew that it was futile, so you smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Thank you.”

The intensity of his gaze was too much, and you quickly found yourself glancing at the floor, jumping slightly as you felt his lips press to your temple.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

He pulled back and you glanced up. Simon easily picked Millie up, before bidding you goodbye and walking out of your bakery. Millie waved at you the whole time until they were out of sight. A soft smile spread across your lips, as you turned towards the corner, curiously pulling out the tip Simon had left you. But when you counted the bills, you couldn’t believe it. You counted them three more times, before accepting the fact that he had left you $300.

But what caught your attention even more, was a black business card in the middle of the folded notes.

Simon Riley.

Simon.

Riley.

Riley.

Riley.

Riley!

A gasp left your mouth as you realized who you had just dealt with. Simon Riley, the local mafia boss, feared by everyone, hunted by the police. No wonder Millie didn’t want you to go to the police. As you continued to stare at the card, a shiver ran through you, wondering if you’d see the mafia boss again.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

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[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Roadside

Summary: On your way back from a long weekend that you got to spent with Joel, his car breaks down. While you both waited for Tommy to get there to help, Joel has some ideas on how to spend the time waiting.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 792

Rating: T

Warnings: roadtrips, falling in love but slowly, car trouble, implied smut, kissing, flirting, feelings, teasing, kinda secret dating, fourteen year age gap

A/N: I'm missing references to three pics I think, but it doesn't get better than this lol (technically I am not here, because I am on a writing break) The moodboard screamed road trip to me, so this is what I did. This is for @iamasaddie 24 hour writing challenge and I hope it does not suck 🙃

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

„What are you gonna tell him when he gets here?“ You hummed, looking up at Joel. He gave you a small smile before he stepped closer, his big, strong hands coming down to part your legs for him, stepping between them so he was towering over you, the sun slowly setting on the horizon.

You had almost made it home. 

After a long weekend of having Joel to yourself without the fear of running into someone you both knew (if you left your hotel room at all) that you had spend in a tiny town in close to Dallas, you were on your way back, just an hour out of Austin when his truck made a very sad noise until the engine went out and the car stopped on the side of the road. 

He had tried to get it to work before, with a long groan, he told you he had to call Tommy cause the something something needed a something so he could fix it. He had kept his eyes on you the whole times as he made the call, looking beyond sexy in the shirt you bought him, with his too long getting hair that you had spent all night running your fingers through as he made you cum over and over again until you both passed out. 

You had met Tommy before. You just hadn’t met him as Joel’s girlfriend.

Things between you and Joel had been… slow until they weren’t.

You’ve known each other for almost two years due to you working as an interior designer occasionally with his company. But it was six months ago that you had gotten closer as you worked on a very time consuming project where the client brought you both to the verge of insanity with how often they were changing the plans. 

He had finally asked you out one night and the rest as they say, was history. 

„Guess I’m finally gonna introduce my controversially young girlfriend to him,“ Joel smiled before he kissed you softly. You gasped in mock offence, before tilting your chin up to meet his lips with a smile, your hands running up his broad back until your fingers slipped into his hair on the back of his neck. 

„Not that controversial,“ you grinned and he chuckled before his lips kissed down your neck. 

„Fourteen years is a lot,“ he mumbled against your neck and you sighed, letting your head fall to the side to give him more access. One of his hands slowly drifted up your thighs, his fingers pushing the fabric of your skirt up. 

„Only if you care what other people think. Last time I checked, we’re both very consenting adults,“ you said and he playfully bit into your neck making your shriek. 

„How consenting are we talking about here exactly?“ He asked and you looked up at him as one of his hands slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing over your damp panties. 

You could feel your nipples harden against the fabric of the shirt you had put on this morning and Joel seemed to notice too, his other hand coming up to cup one of your tits, his thumb playing with your nipple.

Looking around you realised that you were pretty much in the middle of nowhere. You couldn’t even remember when you had seen a car drive by the last time. 

„Consenting enough to let you fuck me in the middle of nowhere until your brother gets here,“ you whispered against his ear and he groaned, letting his forehead fall against yours. 

„Atta girl,“ he grinned, before he kissed you again while his hands made quick work of your underwear. 

You could still feel him dripping out of you, your legs a little weak, when you jumped of the back of the truck, Joel taking your hand as the door of the car that had parked behind his opened and a man jumped out, looking between the two of you. 

The sun had set by now, the cold air making you shiver and Joel let go of your hand, to put an arm around your waist, pulling you closer against him, the warmth of his body helping instantly. 

„So this is how I get to find out the mysterious woman that makes my brother grin like a teenager with a crush when he looks at his phone is you?“ Tommy Miller approached with a wide grin. You could practically hear Joel roll his eyes and you smiled at his brother. 

„You got a crush on me, Miller?“ You teased and looked up at him. 

„Brat,“ he sighed, fighting a smile.

„You love it,“ you winked, feeling him pull you closer. 

„Yeah, I really do,“ he hummed before he kissed you softly. 

[galeorderbride]

Good lord! That Gale fic?! I made a GRAVE error and read it at work and now I have to concentrate while doing business things?! 10000/10 no notes! Thank you so much!!

What if Gale used Invisibility with a consenting Tav?

Ohhh you’re a gem for saying that thank you <3 and I hope you recovered from workplace smut (I have definitely made the same mistake lol)

You put a thought in my brain, anon. I made this little ficlet based on what you suggested :)

18+ MDNI for smut, including: inappropriate use of invisibility spell (consensual), surprise intimate touching, fingering

I wrote this with F!reader as the subject, hope that's ok <3

Words: 1164

Gale wasn’t a man to do the expected. When you permitted him to use an invisibility spell in your—private moments—he wasn’t going to simply sneak up on you while doing dishes or writing letters. He decided to take the time to make things elaborate, unexpected to the nth degree. Which is why, when he finally did execute his plan, you figured he’d forgotten about the conversation. You couldn’t deny your slight disappointment, anticipating a playful surprise as days went on. Never knowing when he’d take action. Only to have nothing happen. 

He was a busy man lately, now that he was a full time professor at Blackstaff and midterm season was peaking. Locking himself in his office for hours at a time, missing dinner if you didn’t bring him a plate after you’d finished. Followed by copious amounts of ‘thank yous’ and kisses on your cheek. Making sure you knew he hadn’t forgotten you, even if he holed himself up for so long. You tried to remain resilient, trust that he was preoccupied and once this time of the semester was complete, he’d be back to his attentive self once again. 

Self care was a good distraction from the hollow silence of the tower. Tara wasn’t even there to lift your spirits, visiting Morena for the night. Instead, you ran yourself an indulgent bath, using extra honey scented bubble bath and rosehip oil. Frothy suds blanketing the top layer of the hot water as you sunk your body into paradise. Letting yourself fall under the spell of relaxation as you tried to get your mind off the isolation. 

The dripping tap and gusts of wind against the glass windowpane were all that could be heard. Humming to yourself your favourite tunes from the bard performance you and Gale attended a week ago. Eyes closing as you became lost in the warm water, the perfect temperature for you. 

Until a shift in the formerly still water catches you off guard. A smooth, tranquil wave of the bubbles splitting in two, as if a hand broke between. Teasing through the gap of your spread knees. You hardly noticed at first, just thought it was a twitch of your leg or stretch of your foot. But the light flow around your skin becomes a soft but evident caress from ankle to calf. Someone is touching you, but you are completely alone. 

You unleash a shaky breath, a fearful but intriguing jerk within your muscles as the invisible touch hastens to move further between your legs. Ripples of water now waving in full force, sizeable enough that you pieced together just what—or who—guided such spontaneous magic. 

“Is that you, professor?” You say, voice hitching with captivated breath as the formless hand brushes against your cunt. Featherlight to the point where you wonder if you even felt it. 

No response, the typical verbosity of your wizard masked for effect. Part of you fizzled with fear, a tiny threat of a question in the back of your mind that asked if Gale was the one touching you or not. But you were more than familiar with the way he circled around your clit, the patterns of which he teased even though he’d swear there was no routine. After months of living with him in Waterdeep, when he’d seldom go a day without ravishing you, you found little trouble recognizing the force to be him.  

You giggle flirtatiously, head lying back against the ridge of the tub as invisible fingertips went from tickling to softly rubbing your clit. Letting your ankle lift through the steamy bubbles and hook over the edge. Opening further for him, biting your lip in sinful satisfaction as you catch the desirous sound of his shaken breath in your ear. Definitely him, drowning in the essence of your soaked up pleasure. You moan a little louder for him, a sign for this new ghost lover of yours to keep going as you climb further toward climax. 

Splashing increases around you as your lower body jolts with pleasure. Gale slides one finger inside, curling upward in the perfect way. Your skin runs red in a lusty blush as you picture what your pussy might look like as an invisible finger thrusts into it. Getting penetrated by nothing yet filled even further as he slips a second finger inside. 

Your moan is almost guttural, ferally chasing that high. You say, “Are you going to show yourself or am I gonna cum all by myself?” 

With his free hand, he snapped his fingers with a loud flick. Gale appeared behind you, resting his arm around the tub as your eyes stared upward at him. Strands of hair hanging around his face, the circles under his chestnut eyes darkened even further with incurable lust. Finished by a smirk so irresistible you’re sure you could explode just by looking at him. 

Moving his free hand to your breast, prodding at the plush flesh, he says, “I’d hardly be able to concentrate if I tried. Watching you come undone for me…I can’t think of anything else.” 

Gale smashed his lips against yours, passionate and fiery. The same pace as his thumb rubbing your clit, fingers thrusting assertively up. His other hand worked your nipple, pinching and twisting in just the right spots to get your entire midsection in tingles. Slipping his tongue into your mouth just as you let out a pleasurable yelp. Bringing you closer and closer to the edge of paradise. 

He doesn’t miss a beat, maintaining rhythm even as your body writhes in ecstasy. Your kiss slips away, mouths still hovering over each other, drinking in your air. You shudder out, “D-don’t stop…nearly there…”

His breath is hot, keeping your foreheads together. Leading you up and up that hill of no return. He growled, “Yes, good. Do it for me, do it now.” 

The crackle of his voice is enough to fully tip you over the edge. Your sex blossoms with a wet, intense orgasm that spreads throughout your lower body. Gale laughs quietly, taking in the satisfaction of finally unravelling you after so long waiting to strike with that invisibility spell. Days of thinking about the perfect time, now coming to fruition as you fall apart around his fingers. He can’t wait for the rest of the evening. 

Your body calms down, settling into the lukewarm water filled with soap lines and sweat. Gale gives you no time before he scoops both arms under you, lifting you from the tub in a bridal style carry. You giggle as you hug his shoulders, rubbing your nose against his. 

“Thank you for lifting me,” you say, “My legs are like jelly after that.” 

He chuckled, “Well, it’s the least I could do. Considering I’m about to take you to the bed and make the rest of your body—like jelly.” 

“Oh? Invisible or not?” You asked. 

As he flipped you onto the mattress and climbed over you, he said, “Why not both?”

[simpsdept]

Lute x female reader smut part 2

Words:955

A/n: okay! I hope this is good, cause I didn’t fully know what to do for part two, but I tried to make it as long as I could cause I know ppl(or most) don’t like short smut fics. Also sorry this took a while, my school is hella long so weekends are better for posting, im ill today so I’ll be trying to write more

(Requested by kdkdlslsdldldldd on tumblr)

Warning: insulting, rough sex, mean Lute, gay sex, male positions/female positions , toys(straps), hair pulling, biting, size difference, blow jobs(fake), sobbing, bondage

You were still laying on the bed, exhausted from the hours of teasing and the hard orgasm you just had, but it wasn’t over. The next thing you knew you were flipped over onto your knees, your elbows holding you up due to your wrists being tied tightly together.

“Lute..?” You asked tired, she got up and opened one of her closet drawers, searching for something. You stayed in the position that lute told you to stay in, still dizzy and aroused from your pre-orgasm. Lute finally came back with a large strap, putting it onto herself.

You trembled with excitement and nervousness, your core more and more aroused. Lute got in front of you and roughly grabbed a hand full of your hair to force you up and forcefully opened your mouth. “Be a good girl and suck.” Lute said smirking. You lowered your mouth onto the strap, taking it in like it was hers and not a toy. You moan and suck the strap, Lute pushed your head deeper into it making you gag. “That’s it whore..good job..” Lute pretended to moan, causing you to grow even more aroused.

She started to thrust in and out of your mouth, fucking it. You let out gags and moans when the strap hits the back of your throat repeatedly. She finally stopped and pulled out eventually, strands of your saliva connected your mouth to the strap.

She then gripped your hair harder and pushed your head down on the bed, you let out a soft whine, a more needy one, even if you were slightly scared.

Lute went behind you, you were more scared now, Lute would not go easy on you. “Get ready you little slut…” she said more hushed and sat on the bed behind you, lining up the strap at your entrance, you whimpered softly when the cool rubber hit your entrance,’threatening to push in.

Lute grabbed your hips roughly, rough enough to leave bruises. You wince softly and close your eyes, your head still being forced into the bed by lutes powerful grip.

You can feel her pushing into you, stretching you out already. You let out a soft cry as she pushed in without any hesitation or worry for your concern. She let out a teasing deep moan into your ears to get you more turned on, and she succeeded.

“That’s right..taking in my cock like the good white you are..” Lute teasingly said into your ears, not giving you anytime to adjust to the straps size before already thrusting in and out of you. You let out quieter and more exhausted weak cries, it felt good but so painful too.

You started to get tears in your eyes from how tough she was being, your ass having red marks from how hard she was thrusting into you. Your eyes were closed tightly as she continued to thrust wildly, showing no remorse for your wellbeing. Your breathing becomes quicker as she picked up the pace.

She thrusted harder and harder, eventually you let out a long cry, cumming onto the strap. Lute smirked and chuckled darkly, pulling her strap out and then forcing you to give her another blowjob with it. You pant and sloppily take the cum covered strap back into your mouth, sucking it the best you could even though your exhausted.

Lute noticed your exhaustion and softened for a second. “Only a few more times…” She reassured before going back to fucking your mouth with her strap. You whimper and gag as she fucked your mouth harder than the last time. You licked the strap and sucked it, tasting yourself on it.

As soon as you finish cleaning the strap with you mouth, she flipped you back over onto your back. Untying the ropes off of your hands which you thanked her for, they were rope burned around the wrists. Lute took off the strap and put it on you instead. Positioning herself over it.

You take this moment to catch your breaths and relax, knowing that she’s finally giving you a break. She lowered herself down onto you gently, moaning as the strap entered her. You couldn’t help but grab her hips and force her down onto it more. She lets out a soft gasp, trying to keep her moans hidden and sound more mad still.

She started to thrust against your hips, the strap hitting against her walls. She moaned and gripped your shoulders, biting them harsh once again to ground herself. You moan and groan when you feel her bite you, loving the feeling of her hips pushing up again yours in a more gentle manner.

You began to buck your hips as well, trying to give Lute some pleasure of it too. She moaned louder into your shoulder and tightened her bite, causing you to let out a groan. She got closer and closer to her climax, bucking her hips more wildly over the strap.

You felt the warm liquid of cum from Lute fall over your things from below. Both of you pant while she pulls herself out of the strap, throwing it onto the ground and not caring about it right now. She laid down next to you, both of your bodies covered in pre-cum and sweat, your sticky bodies pressed together. She was more calmed down now, telling you soft sorrys for being so rough, she was a lot sweeter once she got all that stress out, and she’s looking forward to doing it again next time.

[ybklix]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀

★ pairing: chris bahng & lee minho x popstar!femreader

✦𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Prima donna: someone who demands to be treated in a special way and is difficult to please.

The sweet and perverse play of a life hidden behind an acclaimed character created by someone.

Minho Lee, a frustrated young writer working in one of the most important music magazines, is about to find out what’s really going on behind the scenes of the mysterious girl everyone is wondering about.

With small steps in your career, you are discovered by a famous producer under the pseudonym CB97, whose vision of work is very specific and quite peculiar… yet you succeed in becoming a rising star, who manages to spark the public's curiosity. Hiding little secrets under the image of a mysterious internet girl with an angelic voice and face.

Once Minho is challenged to come up with a really good story to keep his job, he finds your unusual videos on the internet, wondering if he could have a chance to meet you… only to find himself with no way out, immerse in a dark world, hidden and full of beauty and desire.

♡ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 - 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, daddy kink, soft bdsm, sex toys, sextape, est. relationship, cheating, threesomes, mention of sex workers, sugar daddy, dom!chan, toxic relationship, reader is slightly a nymphomaniac (current warnings appearing in each chapter).

♡⋆˙ FIC MASTERLIST

❀ inspired by the early career of poppy, the singer and her “weird” yt videos back in 2016, electra heart by marina and the diamonds and almost famous film.

main masterlist

current warnings: daddy kink, pet names, suggestive smut.

word count: 860

♡ PROLOGUE ♡

“Perfect, beautiful, but I feel you can do better, let’s do it again just one more time” your boyfriend said in a soft tone, focused on all his recording equipment watching once more your video, you nodded determined and quickly arranged your two pigtails back on your shoulders, “In three... two...”

You went back to your role and acted according to the script previously studied to perfection written by your boyfriend. It wasn’t rocket science, your videos were never longer than three minutes, and this was one of those that came out in one continuous take, but Chris, your boyfriend, was a total perfectionist freak.

Once you heard him say “Cut,” you felt yourself breathe again and were a little tired of the bright set lighting hitting your face.

“This is the good one, babygirl, you did excellent, I just edit it and it’s done” he said, cheering you on and still focused on his computer.

You approached him, this time he was so focused on the result of the video that he didn’t go straight to you to pamper you which seemed strange to you, like something empty, you missed his affection and compliments every time you did something well, or every time you did your job well and didn't complicate it for him too much.

You admired him, his handsome side profile, you sighed, you were dying to call him by his name, but he didn’t like when you called him that at all, according to him, it was like a lack of affection towards him.

“Daddy” you tried to catch his attention, stretching his clothes a little but he was still engrossed watching every detail of your recorded video, “Daddy” you called him again in a more needy tone.

“What’s wrong little one?” he replied without paying attention to you, deftly moving his long fingers on his computer.

“Did I do it right?” you asked.

“Of course you did, babygirl, I’m almost about to post it...”

“Then why don’t you show me how much you like it?” you whined, knowing full well that tone made every part of his body tremble.

He finally turned to look at you, your expression with a slight pout, your eyes bright, it was obvious you wanted sex to which Chris smirked as he couldn’t believe you were insatiable, you had a huge sexual appetite, you could last hours and hours, round after round until he left your body completely tired, until you cried and begged for no more. But you couldn’t help it, he had made you that way, he created you, from your dyed hair, to your feet with your socks and shoes on that he chose and dressed you in them. You were all his.

For a year now, you had this kind of relationship that was a little abnormal, but you were turned on by every part of it. It was a routine you kept, but besides the sex your favorite part was making music with your boyfriend, being able to share creative ideas, and ending up completely fascinated with the great work he did with your voice.

“That’s what you want, huh, babygirl?” Chris raised his eyebrows, running his tongue around the inside of his mouth watching you with desire, making your pussy throb under his penetrating gaze, “Wasn’t the good morning daddy gave you enough for you?”

You shook energetically, your heart racing at the thought of being touched again by him, igniting in you an inner flame that could only be extinguished by reaching your so intense orgasm that your daddy always makes sure you reach.

“I want more, daddy please, don’t I deserve a reward?”

“Mmm, the video wasn’t that hard to act...” he commented teasing you a little.

“Daddy, pleaseee” you begged, you were so wet that if he refused to touch you, you’d go to your room to lock in and give yourself an orgasm, without caring about breaking one of his rules, either way a very painful but sizzling hot punishment awaited you every time you broke one of them.

“Okay, come here” Chris turned from his chair, putting his body in front of you.

You moved closer, almost in a jump of happiness, wrapping your arms around his neck, Chris wrapped his arms around your body, squeezing it and dropping his heavy strong arms in you.

“What does my princess want?” he asked, close to your lips, brushing his big nose against yours.

“I don’t know, daddy, you decide...”

Chris moved one of his hands down to your wet center, starting to stroke your clit, making you gasp and moan.

“You’re so wet... You want daddy to play with you, don’t you?”

You bit your lip, aroused, every muscle in your pussy throbbing, so needy at his slightest touch. You loved him, you worship him.

You didn’t believe that anything or anyone could break such a bond between you. He knew absolutely everything about you, or at least you were so blinded as to believe so. But trying to figure him out was a constant game that sometimes you had to lose. And gosh, you really fucking hate to lose.

[remlionheart]

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

Marinade

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ when i first decided that i wanted to write some yuuji angst, i had a v vague idea in my head of what it might look like, but when i tell you that this fic took me for a ride, i mean it. angel boy yuuji itadori finds himself mourning his 22nd birthday rather than celebrating it. sitting alone at a bar, overwhelmed by grief when he's suddenly greeted by the one part of his past that doesn't hurt to look at. 4.9k words. hurt/comfort, angst, smut, fluff, slice of life, shonen, literally everything and anything going on here. i was crying and smiling and rooting for these characters and i'm not sure that i'll ever emotionally recover from writing this, but i'm really happy w the outcome so lemme know whatcha think, luv you ♡ (also shoutout to my girl @bratbby333 for always being my biggest hype-woman and proofreading for me when i've looked at a fic for too long and start to hate it) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

now playing: marinade by dope lemon

Yuuji hadn't seen you since middle school.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He remembered you as the girl who had pretty handwriting and a serious affinity for the color blue. The girl who would leave pastel origami hearts on his desk without ever saying why. The girl who'd hide away in the library during lunch instead of eating with the rest of the class. The girl who he'd watch on the bus ride home with a sinking feeling in his stomach, catching the way your eyes glossed over each time the driver stopped in front of your house.

He learned how much you loved to read and write that year. Glancing at you from across the study hall room, secretly jotting down what number was printed along the spine of your book so that he could get you the next one in the series. He'd leave it on your desk before class started, the same way you did with his origami hearts. Never saying a word about it.

He watched you fill countless journals, your face always so concentrated as you poured your thoughts into them. He’d stop by the shopping plaza near his house after school every time he noticed that you’d reached the last page, spending his allowance to make sure there was a new one waiting for you the next morning. Each one he gave you, a different shade of blue.

But it wasn’t until the last day of eighth grade that he finally mustered up the courage to break the not-so-silent-silence the two of you had been sharing for the last 6 months. He sat down next to you, introducing himself even though it went without saying. His eyebrows furrowed a bit when you wordlessly slipped out an earbud and handed it to him. A rare, but visible smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He held it in his palm for a moment, his eyes drifting along your face as he brought it to his ear, letting the tangled white cord tether the two of you together.

He’d never heard the song before, but he still remembered thinking how fitting it was. Dreamy and melodic - just like you. The singer's voice was full of raw sincerity, adding another layer of atmospheric haze to the already heady beat while the chorus gradually filled the space between you.

He didn't have the right words to explain it at the time, but he felt lucky as he watched you stare out the window that day. Lucky to know how pretty you looked when the sunlight caught the side of your face. Lucky to know which fantasy novels you liked to spend hours losing yourself in. Lucky to know what type of music you listened to when you were deep in thought. Lucky, just to be sitting next to you.

His heart jumped around in his chest when your eyes met his again. Both of you exchanging the same somber smile as you realized what road you were on.

He handed his half of the headphones back to you, secretly relieved at how calm you still seemed despite the fact that your stop was next.

“That song,” he hesitated, the lyrics still swirling through his mind. “what was it –”

But his question came to an abrupt end as the bus began to brake, a new and overwhelming warmth dancing through his veins when he noticed how close you suddenly were to him.

His pupils doubled in size, his breath catching in his throat while you leaned in carefully, pressing the softest kiss against his boyish cheek.

"Have a good summer, Yuuji." you whispered, grabbing your backpack off the floor.

His hand rested where your lips had been, his gaze following you off of the bus. You made it about halfway up your driveway before pausing to look back at him over your shoulder, two lingering smiles blurring past one another as the driver hurried on with her route.

The next two months were filled with sunshine and soccer practice for him. Bike rides and camping trips and basketball courts. His days were usually full, but no matter what he was doing or where he was going, there was one song that was always on the tip of his tongue:

♫⋆｡ ♪ ₊ ﾟ“Do you want me? Just how I am? Do you need me and where I stand?”

One song that would forever remind him of you:

"Let's go steady, let's make a plan. Marinade on that for a little while." ⋆｡ ♪ ₊♬ ﾟ。

And he did.

He marinaded on the infatuation he felt for you the rest of that entire summer.

When August arrived that year and brought everyone back for high school, he was ready.

There were stories he wanted to tell you, questions he wanted to ask you. Playlists he wanted to make with you. Books he'd found while thrifting that he wanted to give to you. Daydreams he had of roaming the halls and laughing with you. Visions of bringing his lunch into the library so he could eat with you. He couldn't wait to hear about your summer. Couldn't wait to catch up with you. Couldn't wait to see you.

Unfortunately for you both though, life had other, much darker plans in store for the pink-haired boy who just wanted to carry around your books for you and hold your hand during passing period.

He was called out of class early on the first day. Forced to leave the building before he even had the chance to see you as he frantically tracked down the nearest shuttle and rushed across town to get to the hospital. His grandpa’s health had been on a slow decline, but after his most recent fall, it had suddenly started to plummet.

Yuuji missed the majority of that week, dedicating all of his time to the man who had essentially raised him. He would bring him food and sit with him for hours even though he was mostly incoherent. He’d tell him about his day and leave flowers by his bedside. He'd watch reruns of old game shows with him that they used to watch when Yuuji was little, completely ignoring the nurses who would say things like, "You need to give yourself a break.”

The hospital staff tried their best to get him to take a day off. To go back to school and live his own life, but Yuuji just couldn’t. His grandpa was the only family he'd ever really had. There was no way he was going to leave him. He ditched the comfort of his bedroom and began sleeping on the cramped hospital futon next to the grey-haired man, teaching himself what each machine hooked up to him was responsible for and what vitals they monitored. He’d sometimes leave throughout the day, but it was only for a couple of hours at most. He'd return with more flowers and books to read to him. By the third week of school, he'd missed almost every single one of his classes, but he didn’t care. His priorities were firm.

Yuuji stayed by his side - day in and day out, until the very end.

When he woke up to the sound of erratic beeping and codes that he didn't understand being called out by nurses, he knew. He knew in his heart that this was it. Amongst the chaos were two sets of shaking hands reaching for each other, his grandpa's last words hanging heavily in the space between them,

“Yuuji... You're a strong kid, try your best to help others, okay?”

He remembered thinking at that moment that there couldn’t be a worse feeling. That he couldn’t possibly have anything else left to lose. He was only 15 and he was now officially all on his own as he watched the only parental figure he had let out his last breath of air.

He had no family, no future, no chance.

Fate was a cruel and calculating thing though. A few days after the funeral, Yuuji discovered that he did have a future. One that was irreversibly sealed the minute he stepped foot into Jujutsu High. He had to let go of everything he'd known in exchange for the damning task of becoming a vessel for Ryomen Sukuna. He had to trade in his mundane role of being a high school freshman for the daunting responsibility of becoming a first-year sorcerer. And arguably the hardest thing of all, he had to give up the simple pleasure of sharing a set of tangled headphones with you to try and save a world that didn't truly care about him.

There was no room for normalcy anymore. This was his new life and it was ending, one day at a time.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He sat at a nearly vacant bar by himself, staring down the empty glass in front of him, watching the ice melt as he ran a shaky hand along the back of his neck.

It was 4 o'clock and he was only one of two people here this early. The lights and music were still being adjusted by the workers. Cups being stocked and coolers being filled for the inevitable Saturday-night rush that would come in the next few hours. His goal was to be absolutely obliterated by then - to already be on his way back home before the swarm of college students took over.

He paused, noticing the calendar hanging by the craft beer list in front of him. His heart stuttered a bit as he blinked back at the date. No wonder he'd been feeling so reminiscent lately.

He leaned over the counter hoping to find the bartender who'd poured his first drink, but to no avail.

He grabbed his glass, sucking down the very last drop of whiskey it had to offer, trying desperately to drown out the realization that today was his 22nd birthday and the people who should be here with him weren't.

Almost every friend he'd made over the last ten years had been ripped away from him. They were scattered memories. Familiar voices that he did his best to hold onto. Faces, names, deaths that followed him everywhere he went.

Middle school and the innocence of just wanting to hold a pretty girl's hand while she walked down the hallway were long gone. He was an adult now. A very tired and traumatized adult.

He peered around the corner again, half-tempted to jump over the bar and pour himself another drink when the stereo kicked on, an overwhelming wave of pure, deep blue nostalgia flooding over him without warning.

His back straightened, his eyes suddenly darting towards the speaker as the lyrics drifted across his skin, causing every hair on his body to stand up at once.

"She wanted to die by a river. She wanted the tide to come up and drag her away, so that when she's dreamin', she can watch the tree line fall away." ⋆｡ ♪

It was the same hazy melody that he'd spent an entire summer listening to on repeat. He still knew every word, every beat. It was muscle memory the way his fingertips began to drum along the counter when a bartender finally emerged from the back.

"Sorry, do you need a –"

Time stilled, the glass nearly slipping from his hand as your gaze caught his.

"Yuuji?"

Despite how much you'd changed since the last time he saw you, your voice was somehow just as soft as he remembered it being.

He stared back at you in quiet disbelief, guilt quickly settling in the pit of his stomach as he thought about how fucking strange and unexpected this all must feel for you too.

From your perspective, he'd spent all of 8th grade trying to befriend you only to up and leave without even saying goodbye. And now, 7 years later - he was at your work, looking back at you like you were an actual angel, and forgetting every word he knew.

Your eyes stayed locked on his for another moment, both of you studying the person in front of you before you finally let out a shaky breath and smiled at him.

"Here," You offered, suddenly feeling the need to soothe your own nerves too. "On the house."

He tried to tell you that he could pay for it, but it was too late. You were already pouring two shots and motioning for him to put his wallet away.

"Okay, fine. But..." There was a glimmer in his eye as he pulled his glass away from yours. "What are we toasting to?"

The smile he gave you felt like a warm hug. One that you didn't realize you needed until you had it again. "Oh," You stammered, trying to ignore the blood that was rushing to your cheeks. "What about... To old friends?"

He nodded, still wearing the same expression as your drinks lightly knocked together. "To old friends."

He couldn't help but grin again at the little shiver that swept across your body as you finished yours.

Your hair was longer, your features a bit more mature, but your mannerisms were all the same. You were still the girl that was made up of mid-day sunlight, handbound books, and shades of blue that were too pretty to exist in this world.

You grabbed a beer out of the cooler and slid it to him, once again ignoring the credit card he tried to hand you. "Yuuji, relax." you leaned against the counter, resting your head in your hands so that you were eye-level with him. "They're not gonna go bankrupt over a $2 IPA, I promise."

"If you say so."  

You both exchanged the same small smile, his finger lightly running along the counter. "So," he cleared his throat, completely unsure of where to start. "How've you been?"

It was a loaded question, maybe even a dumb question considering how much time had passed, but he didn't care. He really did want to know how you'd been. What you'd been up to. What type of things you'd been writing about. What your Spotifty playlists looked like. What you did on your days off. He wanted to know everything. All of it.

"Well," you exhaled, trying to find an easy way to condense the last seven years of your life. "My parents..." your eyebrows furrowed, realizing that you'd never gotten the chance to tell him why you used to dread your old bus route so much. "My parents finally got divorced..."

“Oh shit, I’m sorry -"

“No,” You said swiftly, not wanting him to feel bad for asking. "It was more of a relief than anything. They used to fight, a lot. My mom wasn't always the nicest when she drank... It probably should've happened way sooner to be honest."

His breathing slowed as memories of you with tears in your eyes walking up your driveway smashed through his mind. He'd promised himself that he would ask you about it one day, but he had no idea it'd be this much later on. He'd wanted to talk to you about it as kids. Wanted to know what scared you so much about going home, but he didn't know how. It was the reason why he left journals on your desk. The reason why he never let you go without the next book in your series.

For everything he couldn't say, he tried to show. But he'd failed you on both accounts the day he disappeared.

"My parents separated my -" you paused, eyes dragging to his as you corrected yourself. "our graduation year."

He nodded, doing his best to digest the thought of you walking down the aisle in a cap and gown with the weight of your parents' downfall on your shoulders.

"But, after that," you smiled slightly. “I applied to college and got accepted. Started working here. Got my own apartment. And I don't know...” you shrugged, "I think in a weird way, things happened the way they were supposed to. It was like everything needed to fall apart before it got better, you know?"

He smiled back at you, your last sentence lingering in the space between you as he reached for your hand. He probably wouldn't have understood that sentiment a year ago, but watching your eyes widen while your fingers slowly tangled into his, he knew exactly what you meant now.

"I'm really sorry I wasn't there..." His thumb brushed against the side of your hand, steadying himself as he let 15-year-old him and 22-year-old him come together to say what they had both been holding onto for so long. "I didn't want to leave. I just -"

Your heart swelled in your chest, watching him blink back tears he wasn't prepared to shed. "Life got really hard for a really long time for me too. But, whenever I felt myself drifting... I thought of you. Thought of the way you'd glance at me from over your book during class. Thought of the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching. I thought of you... all the time. And it was like, no matter how dark things got, it reminded me that life could be good, because it was at one point. So..."

Your hand tightened around his, two sets of glossy eyes now staring back at each other as he forced himself to say what he should've years ago. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there, but... I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere."

You were dizzy with emotion. Swimming through feelings that you'd kept buried for nearly the last decade. The thoughts you'd only been brave enough to write down. The overwhelming urge to kiss him again and again and again until neither one of you had any air left in your lungs.

Your mouth opened and then closed, your body saying more than you were capable of with how desperately you were holding onto him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Didn't have time to think or care about the repercussions of your impulsiveness.

"Hey Mai," You called out, "I'm really not feeling well. Think I'm gonna go home."

Yuuji's head was shaking no, but the surprised smile tugging at the corner of his mouth was saying otherwise. "What're you doing?" he whisper-shouted, watching you run around the bar to grab his hand again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Mai yelled from the back, but it was too late.

You and Yuuji were already gone, practically sprinting alongside each other, laughing as you booked it across the parking lot.

"First the free beer and now this?"

"They won't go bankrupt over me missing one day." You winked. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You may have been leading the way, but he was still the athlete between the two of you, purposefully slowing himself down to not be right on your heels. But when he noticed you starting to pant as the road curved into an upward slope, he reached out for you, gently spinning you around to face him.

"Come here." he knelt down, positioning himself so that you could easily wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

He carried you piggy-back style up the hill, the sun fading into an array of pink and orange as you pointed out every bookstore around campus, explaining which ones were your favorites and why. Promising to get matcha with him tomorrow at a local coffee shop you passed. Asking him about his time at Jujutsu High and trying to wrap your mind around what little he was able to tell you as he swore that he'd fill you in on the full story when the time was right. You caught him up on what he'd missed the last three years of high school and how your college classes had been going. You talked about libraries and ghosts and laughed about how in 7th grade he'd joined the occult club just because he thought it'd be an easy after-school credit.

By the time you'd finally reached the spot you'd wanted to show him, the moon had almost completely replaced the sun. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and your hands were full of a mixture of different flowers that he'd picked for you along the way.

"This is..." he trailed off, watching the sky shift into a deep blend of blue and silver. "Beautiful. How'd you even find this place?"

It was an abandoned park surrounded by overgrown trees that overlooked the city, only one rusted swing set left to its name. The hike you had to endure just to find it had more than likely been the cause of its demise, trekking up here with a backpack was hard enough, let alone a stroller.

"I kinda found it by accident." You shrugged. "I was working on an art project and needed a good view of the skyline. I looked up a bunch of different places online, but then I saw this spot and just knew."

Yuuji pulled off his hoodie, sweat trickling down his neck from the late-summer heat as the two of you sat in the grass, his arm gently wrapping around your waist.

There had been so many times you'd sat in this exact same spot by yourself, wondering what the odds were that you were both somehow looking up at the same star.

Your head rested on his shoulder, a warm gust of air swirling around you as you both looked out into the distance, watching the way the stars faded into the Tokyo lights.

"Hey, Yuuji?" You twirled a blade of grass between your fingers, not wanting to ruin the moment, but still needing to be sure.

"Yeah?"

"You promise, right?"

"Hm?" He could hear the concern in your voice, his grip tightening as he pulled you closer.

"You promise that... you're not leaving again?"

"I swear, I'm not going anywhere. And if I do," His eyes returned to yours, his free hand attentively resting under your chin. "I'm taking you with me."

You nodded, warmth washing over you as he traced along your jawline, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

Your fears were lost to his touch. Your worries dissolving into the sincerity of his voice. Your need for reassurance wholeheartedly met when his hand cupped your cheek and his lips finally caught yours. Seven years' worth of pent-up feelings pouring out between the two of you, hands roaming and little moans slipping out between breaths while you tugged on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He was gentle but eager. Soft but secure. Perfect, in every way.

He hovered over you, easing you onto the grass as he made a makeshift pillow out of his hoodie for you to rest your head on.

You smiled as his lips drifted from your mouth to your neck, his palm delicately traveling up your shirt, pulling your bra to the side while he helped slide your tank-top up over your head. He kissed your collarbones, whispering sweet little praises into your skin. "You're gorgeous, you know that?"

He rested a hand under your back, steadying you as his tongue flickered across your chest. He took his time, making sure to give each nipple the same amount of attention, still humming things like, "the prettiest girl I've ever seen" while his hand traced over your hip.

He tugged at the waistline of your shorts, looking up at you through his lashes as he began to leave featherlight kisses along the inside of your thigh, his blood racing at the sounds you were suddenly making.

"Does that feel good, baby?"

You whimpered out a broken "yes", practically dripping when his fingers spread you apart. He watched you writhe beneath him, drawing slow but firm circles around you. Trying not to lose himself to the way your legs were already shaking for him.

"Yuuji," you whined. "I -" his mouth was ghosting your center, his fingers still playing with your clit while he held you in place. "I n - need you." your voice was heady, lost somewhere in the clouds the faster he went. "I wanna f - feel you, so bad."

"Yeah?" He smiled, his breath still fanning across your core as his digits prodded carefully at your entrance. He groaned at how beautifully your walls swallowed him. "I wanna feel you too."

Your head lulled back, eyes pointed at the sky while your hand tangled into his pink hair. His mouth was warm and heavenly, his tongue running uppp and dowwnnn your center, saliva mixing with slick while his fingers plunged into you.

"Oh, fuck."

He only went deeper the louder you got, flattening his tongue against you with just the right pressure to keep you saying his name. His ring and middle finger hitting spots you'd never been able to reach yourself. You were clenching around him, your thighs locking around his head as you rocked against his tongue.

"Yuuji - you're gonna make me -" he thought it was adorable the way you struggled to get more than two words out at a time. "Fuck, I -"

"Mhmm, just like that."

He was in the same daze you were, sliding in and out of you feverishly until he finally felt the blissful release of your walls spasming around him. Your body suddenly unable to hold it in any longer as you gave him the privilege of really tasing you.

"Oh my god," he moaned, faithfully lapping up every bit of you he could get, only pulling away when you started begging for him.

"Yuuji -" It was needy and light-headed. "Come here, come here. Please."

The way he lifted his head up, smiling at you with your cum dripping down his chin made something inside you ache.

You pulled him towards you, desperately wrapping your legs around his waist as he began undoing the buttons on his pants. He kissed you, again and again and again, using it as a pleasant distraction while he wriggled himself free.

He took a breath, both of you watching in blitzed out awe as he lined himself up with you. "I love you." he whispered, your eyes widening from the blend of his words and the feeling of his tip slowly entering you. "Always have."

His hair brushed against your forehead as he parted your lips with his tongue, your nails digging into his neck with his first full thrust. You were so tight and warm around him.

He tried to ease into you, encouraging you while also making sure you were comfortable. His voice sweet as honey as he asked you things like, "Is that okay, baby?" and "Aw, you like when I go deep like that, huh?"

Your gaze locked with his, your eyebrows knitting together the faster his rhythm became.

You'd thought about this moment before. Thought about what it might feel like, but nothing could've prepared you for the way your heart would race at the sound of him moaning, "You're doing so good for me." The way he'd hold you, looking back at you with stars in his eyes as he filled every inch of you.

"Yuuji -"

"Let it out, baby. S'okay." He whispered, his hand reaching for yours. "I've got you."

Your vision was blurred by the feeling of his tip meeting your cervix, warm summer air brushing against your skin as you reached your breaking point.

"I love you." The words left your mouth so fast you barely had time to register them, but then... they wouldn't stop. It was the only phrase you remembered how to say. The only emotion you remembered how to feel. "I love you." you whimpered again, feeling yourself tighten around him as your confession became more frantic. "Oh - mygod, Yuuji. I love you. I love you. I love - you."

His movements were suddenly beyond his control, his body completely succumbing to the grip of yours. "Fuck, baby - I -" He didn't know if he should pull out. Didn't know if he could pull out. His head was everywhere, his mouth dropping open the longer he watched you.

Your legs locked around him in heady reassurance. "Mm'mm, d - don't stop." You panted. "Cum with me."

It was a sentence he'd only ever thought he'd be lucky enough to hear you say in his dreams.

His hips stilled after one more thrust, your walls holding him tight as he began to twitch inside you. His forehead pressed against yours, his arms struggling to keep him propped up.

You exchanged the same exhausted smirk, leaning up to kiss him while he carefully pulled out of you. A blend of fluids spilling out onto the grass beneath you as he laid by your side with his forearm over his face, trying to regain his composure.

There was a calm silence that settled between you, the both of you looking up at the stars before you rolled over to reach for your shorts, letting him catch his breath while you dug something out of the back pocket.

"Here." You said, unraveling a tangled pair of headphones and handing him one.

His eyes widened with the same curiosity they had 7 years ago as he held it to his ear, your head resting on his chest while a song he knew all too well flowed through the small speakers connecting you. A smile splitting across his face as he held you closer.

"You know, I think you were right." he exhaled, running light fingertips along your arm. "Everything did have to fall apart before it got better."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[beomcoups]

Caller #17

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: basketball player!Soonyoung x college dj reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, 90s au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: PG-13

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, talks of tough family dynamics, bit of heavy angst, kissing

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 8.8k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You could easily name 10 things that you hate about him. But when you bond over music and families, you realize there's more to him than meets the surface.

𝐀𝐍: This was not an easy fic. It took me way longer than I planned to write, and the story I had mapped out went in a different direction. I still feel proud of this one, my longest fic yet, and I hope that you will enjoy it too 🥹 This is a part of my very own Now That's 90's collab hosted by me and @mingsolo. Thank you to @wooahaeproductions for reading this over and @hobeemin for making a banner for me at the last minute 💙

“Thank you for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s your song of the week?” “Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve!” “You got it! Thanks for calling into C.A.R.A.T radio at 526 AM.” Hitting play on the record, the orchestra's melody hits your ears, sending you into an out-of-body experience, your soul floating to cloud nine. The hairs on the back of your neck stand every time the song is played, and you imagine yourself playing the violin, getting lost in the beautiful and complicated sinfonia.  Working at the college radio station was your life. It’s the only place to lose yourself to TLC, Nirvana, and Weezer for hours without judgment. You are in your 3rd year of college, getting your bachelor’s in music theory so you can be one of the most prominent songwriters in the world. While everyone in high school didn’t know what they would be doing with their life, you always imagined yourself getting a Grammy for Song of the Year on stage. That is your real passion: creating musical poetry for the masses.

You slowly take the headphones off and set them down, looking at the big clock plastered on the wall. You let out a heavy sigh, sad that your time at the station is ending. You are allotted two hours a day on Saturday as a part of credit for your program. If you had it your way, you would be here daily, listening to your favorite records and writing songs between commercial breaks.

“Hey,” your professor Kim calls out from her office. “Come in here before you leave.”

You gather your things to leave, looking at the station one last time before entering the smaller space. This isn’t her regular office, but it has everything you think you would need: a desk, a comfortable chair, and bookshelves full of books and ornaments for decoration. You have spent a lot of time in here, pitching new ideas for the station and getting turned down every single time.

“What's up?” You sit in the chair opposite of her.

“So we will be introducing a new segment to the radio where callers can call in and ask for advice about anything, and then you can recommend a song based on what they are calling in about.:” She pauses to take a sip of water. “I want you to be a part of it.”

You don’t answer right away. You are peeved that Professor Kim wants you to head any segment. You have never shown any initiative to want to talk to anyone who calls in besides listening to music. It’s just not your thing. You are a loner at heart, and that’s how you plan to stay.

“Why me?” You finally speak up. “There are other people who are better at this than I am. Hell, ask Emily. She has been foaming at the mouth to talk about anything other than music.”

“Because you are who I want,” she shrugs. “I see how you look when you talk about your favorite releases. You go deep with the lyrics and how you can relate that to any part of your life. You are more than the person behind the voice, and it’s time other people see that.” “Well, I am not trying to be the next Oprah or Ricki Lake,” you scoff. I just want to play music, write my songs, and do whatever I need to do for the class.”

“No one said you would be the next talk show anything,” Professor Kim retorted. “This will be considered a project, and it’s worth 20% of your grade. Plus, when you are in the industry and have sessions with the artists about the song's lyrics, don’t you need to talk to them about their life and what they need? Think about that.” You nod, feeling defeated because you know you can’t talk your way out of this. You know she is right, but you will never admit it. “Plus, it’ll be a good idea to get out of your shell and work on those social skills,” she says. “We will start in a couple of weeks, so get your mind ready because before you know it, you will be there.” You nod and leave the office, your stomach grumbling loudly as you put your headphones on and listen to the latest Backstreet Boys release. It’s a quarter past seven, and dusk officially sets in the sky as you walk across campus. Working at the radio station is the highlight of your week, as you can’t play music loud at your dorm without others complaining. Fortunately, your dorm is set where you have your own space, but the walls are thin, and you can hear everything. You considered buying noise-canceling foam to cover your door but were told it was “against” the rules. Whatever. Your stomach rumbles again, and you are determined to get a burger and fries in your stomach and drink an Oreo milkshake. You cross the street, open your bag, and grab your wallet before being met with a screeching halt from a car in front of you, its headlights blaring in your eyes. “What the fuck?” You mouth at the driver. The driver pokes his head out the window, and you instantly recognize him as Soonyoung, the star point guard of the basketball team. His black Jeep is crowded, full of guys and girls, with Usher blasting through the speakers. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” he waves. “Yeah, no shit,” you retort, walking to the end before the car pulls off. Jeers and boos could be heard, but you could care less. People like that always get in your way no matter what. You avoid people like that as much as people, as you don’t want to be mixed in with that crowd. Soonyoung will eventually go pro and live the NBA life, whereas you will be on the stage accepting awards, with millions of people cheering your name.

The segment started as planned, and you sat and listened to every caller asking for advice. Most of them wanted advice on how to ask someone out for a date, makeup, and things you didn’t care about. The only thing that made it worth it was you got to pick the music to go with the advice, which allowed you to show off your taste in music, from Britney Spears to Mandy Moore, Usher, Sugar Ray, etc. It made the time go by faster as well. You look through the glass, and Professor Kim gives you a thumbs up to take the last call. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let the call ring a few times before you answer. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s on your mind?” “H-hello?” a tenured male voice booms through the speakers. You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You���ve reached C.A.R.A.T radio! What’s on your mind?”

“Hey. You can use this line to ask for advice, right?”

“Yep,” you say, a bit annoyed. “Whatcha got?”

There is a lengthy pause, your fingers tapping dramatically on the soundboard. You raise an eyebrow at the professor, who shrugs and walks out of your view. You hear shuffling in the background, followed by what sounds like something being sipped from a cup.

“S-sorry, I am a bit nervous,” he apologizes. “It’s my first time calling in.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure him. “I know how it is. How can I help?”

“So I already have this path carved out for me by my family and everyone who cares about me. Sports is all I have known all my life, and I have worked very hard to get here.” He stops for a brief second. “Everyone expects me to act like this all-star college boy, and no one ever talks to me about anything else than sports, and I am starting to hate it.”

“Do you mind telling me what kind of sports you’re in?”

“I play ball.”

“Okay, that's good. Well, what is it that you want?”

“I’m tired of being what everyone wants me to be: this golden retriever everyone loves. I just want to be me.” You understood how he felt. Maybe not in sports, but people pushing you to be something you’re not. You come from a family of doctors and lawyers who expected you to be the same. “Get good grades so you can get into an Ivy League school” is all you heard growing up. When you were seven, you expressed interest in music, sitting in front of the family piano on Christmas and playing Jingle Bells, which you learned on your own. Your parents cared for a while, putting you in piano lessons and taking you all over the state for recitals. They figured if you kept this up until high school, it would look good on college applications, but nothing that they took you seriously for. It wasn’t until you learned how to play the guitar in secret that you fell in love with how the strings strummed against your fingers that you realized that your passion is music. Thanks to your choir teacher, you had a good voice and kept it in tune while practicing writing music. You soon sang in front of the school, getting high praise from people all over for your voice and how you would ��make it big one day.” Your parents insisted that it was just a phase and that eventually you would become a doctor and make a “real” living. You were determined to prove them wrong by applying to one of the best music schools and getting in on a full ride. You did that, but it came with a cost: being cut off by everyone in your family but your grandparents. They believed in you from the beginning and made sure you were okay. You will pay them back in tenfold one day. “Hello?” the deep voice cut through your thoughts. “Y-yeah, sorry,” you snap back into focus. “Do you want my advice?” “Yeah, I do,” you hear him clear your throat. ‘I think you should be who you want to be. It may feel a little different at first, but eventually, you will be happier being yourself.” “I mean…” he pauses for another second. “How do I go about that? How do I show people the real me?” “Hmm,” you think out loud. “Why don’t you try easing into it? Start a random conversation about something you are interested in that no one knows about. Gauge their reactions, and if they treat you weirdly, then start making new friends. It might be a little harder with your family, but they will come around. But either way, it’s exhausting having to hide yourself at the time. It’s the 90s and a new era!” “Yeah,” he says slowly. I’ll try that.Thanks.” “No problem!” You say. “Check out this song that’ll hopefully speak to your heart. This is me signing off on CARAT Radio, 800am.” You played “You Gotta Be” by Des’ree, a personal favorite, closing out the end of your segment. Admittedly, it wasn't as bad as you thought it would be. Sure, some questions were annoying, but it allowed you to pass on music to people and help them get over whatever. You can’t call that a total loss. You push the mic to the side and leave the room, checking in with your professor before leaving. “Great job,” she leaned back into her seat. “You were well-spoken and composed, and the music selections were excellent. Have you thought about being a radio DJ?” “NO,” you snort. “I want to be more behind the scenes, writing songs and getting Grammys.” “Okay, okay,” Professor Kim chuckles. “But don’t rule it out. You are a natural at it.” You nod and head out the door with a small smile. Getting complimented about your work feels good, but you rule out being a radio DJ. You deal with people if you have to, but you prefer to have time for yourself a lot of times. You’re just introverted like that. However, that last call was in the back of your mind. You just want to live and succeed at your dream job. It was nice knowing someone out there felt the same way you did. 

Before you knew it, a few weeks had passed, and you had secretly liked doing the segment every Saturday, talking to people from different backgrounds and listening to their troubles. You had a song for every call, and you bragged to your professor at the end of your shift that you had impeccable taste. The analytics showed that more people were tuning in during your segment than at any other time on the radio. Not gonna lie; it stroked your ego quite a bit.

The mystery guy called in on Saturdays, ironically being caller #17 every time. He would call and ask for advice about getting his grades up, coming out of his comfort zone, trying new things, etc. You got to know him a little, see how he solves problems, and see his sense of humor. You have no idea what he looked like, but you imagined he was just your type, like a Keanu Reeves, Theo Mizuhara, or Merlin Santana. Is it crazy that you sometimes daydream about a man you never met?

Today was the last day of the advice segment, and everyone called in with their usual advice and well wishes. Like clockwork, the mystery guy was caller #17. His breathing was labored when you answered, followed by a clunk of metal hitting the floor. “Welcome to C.A.R.A.T radio. You are lucky caller number 17. What’s your damage?”

“H-hey.” You know it was him; the sound of his voice was familiar to you. You shift in your seat, sitting straight and placing your elbows on the desk. You try to keep a poker face, your professor watching you with curious eyes. “Hey there,” you clear your throat. “How can I help?” “I heard today is the last day to ask for advice,” he says. “I can’t say I won’t miss calling and hearing your voice every Saturday.” “Oh yeah?” you chuckle. “ That’s good to know. Well, what is the last piece of advice that I can give you?” “So, there is this girl,” he starts. “I really like her. She’s cute, a bit of a hard ass, and I really like her mind. She’s not like anyone that I’ve met. How do I ask her out?” “Does she know you exist?” “Yeah. I almost ran into her once, but we talked a lot.” “Ah. Do you think she might like you?” “I-I’m not sure,” he stutters. “We get along and everything and we have some things in common. I just don’t know if she would be into me.” “Okay, well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask her out? The worst that can happen is that she says no; at least you’d know.” “Yeah,” he sighs. “I’m nervous as hell, that’s all. Have you dated anyone before?” You are taken aback, your professor raising her eyebrows through the glass. You nod, licking your lips before responding. “I’ve dated here and there,” you say slyly. “It wasn't anything serious. What about you?” ‘Um, yeah, I have,” he snorts.

“Well, there you go then, tiger.” You’re clearly entertained by this conversation. “Remember how you felt when you asked the other girls out, and apply that same confidence to this girl. You never know. She might say yes.” “Okay, I will take your word for it. Thank you.” “Not a problem!” You beam. “Here is the last song I leave you with: ’ 4-page letter’ by Aaliyah. Have a good night, ya’ll.”

You play the final track of the night, setting down the headphones while Professor Kim claps her hands in applause. You roll your eyes playfully, pushing your chair onto the desk and exiting the booth. You feel light as a feather, dopamine taking over your body as you meet your professor in her office. “Great job,” she smiles. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” “Maybe,” you plop down on a chair. “It was fun giving out music suggestions.” “Mhmm,” she nods. “Well, get out there and enjoy your Saturday. I will see you in class on Friday.” You grab your things and leave the station, your stomach rumbling and your mouth parched. It’s after 8, and the nearest thing open is the local pizza joint with the best pepperoni pizza with the cheesiest cheese you’ve ever had. You go there often, and the owners, Dante and Gabriella, get your order ready before you sit down. “The usual?” they always ask, knowing that you are a creature of habit. Aside from your grandparents, they were the closest thing to family to you, always making sure your pizza was hot and crispy with a tall cup of Coke to go with it. They asked about your studies, and Gabriella always asked when you’d get a boyfriend. 

“Ah, stop it, amore mio,” Dante jokingly shushes her. “She has all her life to find the love of her life.”

More people started coming in, and they left you to your food and your walkman. You gleefully put Parmesan cheese over your pizza, taking the first bite and feeling instant gratification. A slice of heaven, literally. You take your headphones on, listening to Kurt Cobain croon on Nirvana’s Something In The Way. The “Nevermind” album got you through some tough times, especially when your family cut off communication with you. It hurt you and made you feel isolated and misunderstood. On the outside, your mom and dad put on this persona of being open-minded and willing to do anything for the family. Why were you the exception? You feel the tears well up, and you get yourself together before people start to notice, eating the rest of your pizza before you call it a night. You look around, seeing people on dates or hanging out with their friends, and you miss that. You had friends back home, but you all split up before you went to college. Who knows what their lives are like now. It’s not like you are visiting home anyway. You clean up your mess and walk into the bathroom, relieving yourself and washing your hands before returning to your dorm. You looked at yourself in the mirror: your jean jacket covered your black button-up shirt, shorts, and stockings underneath. Your eyes were slightly red, a contrast from your fresh face. Stifling a yawn, you leave and wave goodbye to Dante, opening the side door and bumping into someone in the process. You look up, facing Soonyoung, his cheerful eyes meeting yours. “We gotta stop meeting like this,” you mutter, backing up and adjusting your jacket. “Yeah, we shouldn’t,” he responds, opening the door to let you out. Your head snaps up, half expecting him to not hear you.  You rake your fingers through your hair, walking out of the restaurant. He’s a handsome guy, you can admit that, with his fresh, faded haircut and trendy clothes. You get why he is popular with everyone. “I’m sorry for almost hitting you with my car the other day,” he calls out. “It’s alright,” you turn around. “Just don’t make it a habit.” “Alright.” He chuckles and goes inside, and you speed walk to your dorm. Did I just flirt with him? You think to yourself. What the fuck was that? You aren’t even interested in Soonyoung in that way. You two are the two opposites of each other. You’re clearly losing your mind.

The cool air calms you down, and the slight breeze underneath the moonlight keeps you at bay until you get to your building. It’s Saturday night, and everyone’s out; the only sound being heard is your boots hitting the tiled floor as you walk down the hallway to your dorm. Unlocking your door, you notice an envelope tucked underneath it. You sit on the bed, open it, and pull out a letter. I know this isn't a four-page letter, but I like you. You’re funny, have good jams, and are down to earth. Did I say that you’re cute? I like talking to you every Saturday and don’t want it to stop. 

 I want to take you out to a concert on Friday. I’ll pick you up at 4 at your dorm. I know you've said yes if you’re there when I arrive. —Caller #17

“What do you think of this?” Your former roommate and good friend, Nikki Prince, holds up a black leather jacket in your size. You asked her to go shopping with you for an outfit for tomorrow's impending date, and you needed another set of eyes. She majors in architecture and design but models on the side thanks to her striking looks. A tall, tanned skin and green-eyed beauty, she now lives with her much older chef boyfriend, Caelan, but whenever you need her, she’s always there. She’s French, stylish, and brutally honest. You loved that about her. “I dig that,” you take it from her and try it on. It fits you just right. It would be chilly, so you bought new boots, a white shirt, and black jean shorts to wear with black stockings underneath. You wanted to be comfortable as you would be on your feet all night. 

“Are you sure about this date?” Nikki’s foreign accent comes through. “How do you know this guy isn’t some serial killer? We’ve all seen Scream.” “Gee, thanks, mom,” you roll your eyes. “If he tries anything with me, I’ll just show him the moves I learned from the YMCA.” 

“I’m serious. This is risque for you, no?” You shrug, slowly taking off the jacket and heading to the cashier. “I get your point, and if anything happens, I can defend myself. But I have a feeling that it won’t happen.” You greet the cashier and pay for the jacket. “I’ll call you before I leave and tell you about it the next day. Deal?” Nikki nods, and you both walk out of the store, satisfied with what you bought. The mall is busy for a Thursday night, with young adults frolicking at stores like Rave and Wet Seal, looking for the latest fashion trends. The mall isn’t really your scene, as you prefer to thrift shop for your clothes. You have been lucky to find some hidden gems there, especially since you are on a limited budget. Nikki, however, said it was a special occasion, and you quote, “You are not going on a date in someone else’s vêtements.”

You stop at Auntie Anne’s, buying a massive pretzel with cheese on the side, while Nikki opts for a small lemonade. You offer her a piece, which she declines, saying her boyfriend, Caelan, will make her dinner later. “How is that going, by the way?” You sit down at a table. “It’s going good,” she enthuses, raking her fingers through her long black tresses. “He’s so mature and sophisticated. Imagine not having to cook and clean after a man and have good sex.” “Well, yeah, he’s about six years older,” you remark. He better know a thing or two if he wants to keep his model.” Nikki gloats as you finish your pretzel, talking about the elaborate French dishes her boyfriend makes for her and how he worships the ground she walks on. Since you’ve known her, she has always been opinionated and refused to associate with people within your age group. Whenever you see her in the hallways, she always talks with teachers or ignores the lustful looks of college boys. You two got on well because you were roommates, and both were Scorpio risings. You understood each other. “Oh shoot, I better head back to the flat,” Nikki says, looking at her watch. Caelan is going to be home soon, and he is making steak frites tonight.” 

“Yeah, I gotta head to the dorm anyway. Early class tomorrow.”

You walk out of the mall into the chilly night air. She offers you a ride home, and you decline at first, saying that you will walk as it's pretty close. But a slight wind blows, bringing chills down your spine.

“Wait,” you shout after her. “I’ll take that ride.”

The ride was short and quiet, your mind occupied with your date with this mystery stranger. Nikki was right, you don’t know him, and he could be this crazy guy. But you’re also excited; the butterflies haven’t left your stomach since Saturday. You feel like you know him, and you don’t even know his name. He is just caller #17.

She pulls up to your building, and you hug her, preparing to run inside and shower. You know Nikki is still worried and means well, even if she sometimes acts like an overbearing old sister.

“Come over tomorrow at two if you can,” you announce. “You can help me get ready and meet my date in case anything goes crazy.”

“Alright,” Nikki seems relieved. “I’ll be there.”

You shut the door and shout your goodbyes before sprinting inside.

“Love you!”

“Yeah, yeah!”

The next day went fast, like a blur. You slept past your alarm and woke up after twelve, making you two hours late.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” you shout as you scrambled out of bed and tripped over a blanket. You throw on a pair of jeans and an oversized sweater from the University, your hair in a wild ponytail as you brush your teeth and high-tailed it out the door. You ran to class, forming an apology along the way, your heart beating out of your chest. You are met, however, with a closed door and a white paper plastered on the door:

NO CLASS TODAY. ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND.

“Really?” You huffed, leaning against the wall. It’s not like you are late for class; your alarm was

set despite you being up late last night. But whatever, fuck it. You aren’t about to let this ruin your day.

The leaves flow softly with the wind as you walk back to your dorm, the sun playing hide and seek in the clouds. All you can think about is tonight and what concert you are going to. Maybe it’s a huge concert, and that’s why he is picking you up early… or perhaps it’s a local indie band at a bar. Your mind runs with endless possibilities, excitement pumping through your veins. You aren’t a hopeless romantic or a love-at-first-sight kind of person, but something about this person makes you feel good… like you finally have someone who can relate to you on some level. Granted, you have only talked with him on the phone, but you have a gut feeling and are rarely wrong about these things. You finally return to your dorm and take a well-needed shower, washing and detangling your hair with much-needed privacy. Your dorm has shared showers; you usually take them when everyone is asleep at night. Fortunately, there were only a few people, allowing you to have time for yourself. You allow yourself to think of the water running down your body as him, his hands caressing your body, his lips maybe touching yours— “Is anyone in here?” You snap out of your daydream quickly, and the water turns cold right on queue. “Y-yeah?” “I am here to clean the showers,” a woman’s voice calls from the door. “O-okay, give me a second.” Cursing silently, you quickly step out and dry yourself, throwing on your robe and grabbing your shower caddy before exiting the bathroom. You are met by an older woman wearing a shirt representing your college and sweats, with cleaning supplies in tow. “You were in there for a while,” she remarks as she sets out the wet floor sign. Do you have a hot date tonight?” “Something like that,” you shrug. You walk back to your room, and to your surprise, Nikki is outside your door. “You’re early,” you remark, unlocking the door. “Yes, I know,” she said. “But we will need more than two hours to get yourself right.” “You act like I can’t dress myself,” you scoff. “I just wanted your company, that’s all.”

“Oh yeah? Mon ami, when was the last time you changed your makeup?” You open your mouth to rebuttal but close it immediately. You hate to say it, but Nikki’s right. It’s not like you are going anywhere besides school, the music store, and the pizzeria. “Exactly,” Nikki says, setting her stuff down on her bed. “I went and got you makeup close to your teint, just in case.” She pulls out brand-new makeup from Revlon from mascaras, concealers, powders, and assortments of lipsticks of my choosing. She also bought nail polishes, saying it was time to add some color to your life. As much as you want to roll your eyes at her, she is right. As harsh as Nikki seems sometimes, she has a big heart and always looks out for you when you least expect it. You know a thing or two about style, but she takes it to a whole different level and isn’t shy about giving advice on it. You appreciate her so much. Being honest with yourself, you are nervous as hell. You have had crushes before, but you have never been pursued like this, where someone likes you enough to ask you out formerly, even if it was via a note. This person cares about your mind or seems to. You aren’t sure how to feel; you want to be excited and have a good time, but you have a wall up for a reason. You don’t want to be disappointed again like your family has. You figured if the people you love the most can abandon you like that, there is no hope for you out there. You lived with that hard truth for a long time, and you were content with that. But god, this guy has you curious. “What’s on your mind?” Nikki finishes with your makeup and hair, gazing at you through the mirror. “Butterflies in my stomach are killing me,” you grimace. “I can’t believe I am even doing this.” “Oh, relax,” she blows a raspberry. “You always do this thing where you talk yourself out of things you deserve. Stop that. D'accord? “Yes, mother,” you tease. She sucks her teeth, and you get dressed, putting on the new clothes you bought and your black leather boots. Checking out your appearance, you are satisfied with your look, and Nikki gives you a thumbs up while she cleans up. Knock, Knock! You look at the door, the butterflies fluttering deeper in your stomach. You look in the mirror one last time as Nikki opens the door, a brief silence followed by a heart chuckle. “Mon ami, your date is here.”

You see him, and you're stunned. It dawns on you why he’s here, and you feel your heart drop all the way to your ass. This has to be some kind of joke. “Soonyoung? What are you doing here?” He walks more into your view, wearing a grey jean jacket with matching pants. His right hand is in his pocket, and he has a small bouquet of irises in his other hand. “I’m here to take you to the concert?” Nikki is behind him, trying to keep her composure and mask her giggles. Of all the people you thought would show up, Soonyoung was the LAST person on your mind. This is the person who was calling in every Friday and wanting to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “What happened?” you accost him. “Did you lose some bet, and you had to ask me out? Or do you feel bad for almost hitting me with your car?” “No?!” he scoffs, clearly offended. “I mean, yes, I feel bad about almost hitting, but no one dared me to do anything. Do you think I am that kind of person?” “Well, yes.” You wish you could take back what you said, but it was too late. You knew you hurt his feelings, the crestfallen look on his face saying it all. “This was a mistake,” he sighs dejectedly. “Sorry, I wasted your time.” He handed Nikki the flowers and walked away, the air feeling thick and awkward. You couldn’t even look at her in the eyes. You knew you fucked up. “Well, that was awkward,” you huff. “And shitty.” You raise an eyebrow at her, and she stares you down. You don’t want to feel worse than you already do, and Nikki isn’t helping. “Honestly, I think the guy was telling the truth,” Nikki surmises. “He looked like a sad puppy.” You think about this caller #17 guy who would call in every week and share his thoughts with you about everything, with you having to do very little. You think about how scared he felt about being his true, authentic self and how much courage it probably took to ask you out. You know you are a tough cookie to crack and understand better than anyone how it feels to go against the grain and be who you are. “I fucked up Nik,” you slump on your bed. “Yeah, you did.” God, you hate her bluntness sometimes, but she’s right. You need to go find him and make this right. “Do you think he’s still here?” you ask, sitting up and grabbing your purse. “He couldn’t have left that fast.” “Only way to find out is to get off your ass and find him,” she says, pulling your arm. “Go find your guy.” You both rush out of your dorm, jogging down the hallway and out of the building, looking for a silhouette of him. You were scared you missed him and felt defeated, not seeing any sight of him anywhere. Surveying the area one last time, you noticed a black Jeep peeling out of the parking lot. It stops at the stop sign, the second to last car to go. This is your only chance. “WAIT!”

You sprint towards the car, barely meeting him as he is about to turn.

“STOP,” you exhale, relieved that you caught him. “Don’t go.” Soonyoung steps out as you rest your hands on the hood of his car, trying to catch your breath. He touches your arm, his hands soft as silk, sending shocks throughout your body.

“Are you okay?” He asks, taking a good look at you.

“Aside from me about to pass out, I’m good.” You take a deep breath. “Listen. I’m sorry. I was a jerk and an asshole and—”

“MOVING YOUR FUCKING CAR!”

A middle-aged woman leans out of the window and gives you the bird, followed by a slew of car horns beeping in annoyance behind you and Soonyoung.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung curses, realizing the amount of cars behind him. “Get in the car.”

You both get in the car and drive off from the angry drivers, pulling into the nearest gas station. You sit with your hands in your lap, this weight of regret sitting on your chest and guilt eating you from the inside. You look at him, and he seems surprisingly relaxed as if you didn’t reject him

not even thirty minutes ago.

“I’m going to get some gas,” he announces. “Wait here.” 

You watch him walk inside to pay and let out the deepest, most agonizing sigh. He should be calling you every name in the book, and rightfully so, as you insulted him. Why is he being so nice? Does he really like you that much?

He returns a few minutes later, shoving his pockets with change left over, and you both lock eyes with each other. In another situation, you would’ve been able to appreciate his good looks, trendy clothes, and tiger-like appearance. But instead, you feel sick to your stomach, disappointed in how you acted. You look down, twiddling your thumbs until he finishes pumping his gas and returning to the car. This is not like you at all. “Hey,” he says. “Hi,” you stammer. “I’m sorry again. I feel like a terrible person, and I shouldn’t have bit your head off like that.” “I know you were intense, but Jesus Christ,” he exhaled. “Why do you think I wouldn’t be interested in you? You made it seem like I lost a bet to ask you out. You made me feel like crap.” Every word felt like a punch in the gut, and you deserved it. Despite your parents' many flaws, they always taught you not to judge a book by its cover, and that’s precisely what you did. You were pretentious and stuck up about him. In some ways, you aren’t any different from them. “I guess…” your voice trails off. “I just saw you as the athlete that everyone is in love with. Your friends, I know the type, and we’ve never really crossed paths with each other unless I was bumping into you or almost getting hit by your car.” “So… you saw me as the very thing I told you I didn’t want to be seen as.” You didn’t have to answer back. You both knew the answer, and it was eating you up inside. “I’m sorry, I am just gonna go.” Before he could stop you, you exited the Jeep and started walking back toward your dorm. You are embarrassed and can never face him again. This is why you don’t don’t talk to anyone. This is awkward; it feels weird. You lose yourself in your thoughts until you reach the street light, waiting for your turn to go. The air is slightly chilly than usual, the smell of the ocean taking over your senses that you would enjoy any other time. Yeah, a walk to the beach sounds nice, you say to yourself just as the street signal turns green. You feel someone’s hand pulling you away, and you twirl around, facing Soonyoung’s back as he takes you back to his car.

“You’re dramatic as hell, you know that, right?” He shouts over his shoulder. “You didn’t even let me respond; you just hopped out like you were on the run.” 

You stayed silent. What more could you say? He was right. He opens the passenger side, letting you slide in and shutting the door behind you. A few seconds later, he is on your other side, turning on the ignition. 

“You not a terrible person,” he breathes. “A terrible person wouldn’t come sprinting out of their doom in boots and a nice outfit trying to apologize. You said you’re sorry, and it’s fine.” “Is it?” 

“I mean, I’ll get over it,” he shrugs. “I wouldn’t have pulled you back here if I didn’t want to be around you. Now, do you still want to go back and forth about this, or do you want to make it up to me by going to this concert?” It’s a brief moment of silence as you seriously consider your options. You can tell Soonyoung is still bothered by what you did, but his small smile clarifies your decision. “Lead the way, tiger.”

He chuckles as he pulls out of the lot, pulling into a line of cars headed in the same direction. The sun starts to set, the golden hour hitting the horizon at the sea. You fold your arms, confused as to why he is being so nice to you, despite you being a bitch to him earlier. You haven’t felt forgiveness in a long time, which feels foreign. Uncomfortable. You hope this feeling will go away as the night goes on.

You mainly rode in silence aside from the music on the radio, and the hour trip to the venue seemed to be double that. You pull up to Bayfront Amphitheater, packed to the brim with people screaming their hearts out to the band onstage. Your heart skips in excitement, realizing what concert Soonyoung took you to. 

“The Foo Fighters?” you grin, unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve been wanting to see them forever.: “Yeah, I remember you were talking about it on the radio, so I figured why not,” his voice trails off. 

Your heart feels like it is going to burst at the seams. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you, and you had the nerve to be a bitch to him earlier. 

“Hey,” you clear your throat. “I’m sorry again. I feel really shitty about it.”

“I know,” he says. “Look, let’s just enjoy this concert, and I’ll forget about it, okay?” You nod, walking towards the loud music. The rhythm of the drums and guitar blended together, hyping the crowd. You let Soonyoung lead the way, checking your tickets and guiding you to your seats. The crowd is thick, with the smell of cigarettes and alcohol flowing freely, and everyone is caught in their own zone. You wouldn’t say you are claustrophobic, but being packed like sardines isn’t your definition of a good time. Soonyoung notices your discomfort and grabs your hand, holding tight until he finds your assigned seats. You felt safe with him, a tiny spark in you that made you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He shouts over the noise. “Do you want a beer or anything?” “Nah, I’m good,” you shake your head. 

The opening act finishes their set, the crowd politely cheering as the members walk off the stage. There is a small intermission, with people disbursing from their seats to grab drinks or making quick trips to the bathroom. You can feel Soonyoung looking at you, his eyes burning into the left side of your face. You lick your lips and pull strands of your hair to the back of your ear, a blatant attempt at flirting. 

“Are you gonna stare at me all night?” You feel bold, turning your body towards him. “I might,” he purrs. “I have a beautiful, mysterious girl sitting beside me.”

“I’m not that mysterious. We’ve been talking for weeks.” ‘Yeah, in front of thousands of people on the radio. Now I have you all to myself, and I want to get to know the real you.”

“Uh huh,” you nod. “Well, I’m always the same on and off air. You’ll see.” “I hope so.” He smiles at you, and gotta admit the man can flirt. Soonyoung is devastatingly handsome, and he’s quick with his words. It excites you. You like being around people you can banter with and not take shit personally. It takes a load off your shoulders, not having to hold yourself back every time. You just want to be you and be free. It feels like Soonyoung is chasing the same thing. 

“I wouldn’t have predicted you’d be into rock bands like the Foo Fighters. What made you want to go to their concert aside from me?”

“Well, you might be surprised to hear this, but I actually like the band,” he laughs. “I’ve been following them since their debut.”

“Really?” you say. “That’s cool.” “What?” Soonyoung leans closer, your shoulder barely touching his. “Do I not seem like the Foo Fighters type?” “Aht aht,” you playfully wave your finger at him. “I’m not getting tripped up on that question.” You fell into a rhythm of laughter that felt natural as if you had been doing this all your life. Despite your fuck up, he makes you feel cozy and open. The sun makes one final appearance, shining its glorious light on his beautiful, tanned skin. You can fully admit to yourself that he’s handsome as fuck, taking him all in before the sun dips below the horizon. “No, but seriously, I don’t seem like the type to be into them?” You pause before responding, being careful with your answer. “On the surface, no. But I am learning that there is more to a person than meets the eye.” There is a comfortable silence between you two, the sweet-smelling breeze keeping you at bay as you sit and enjoy each other’s company. You have so much you want to say but don’t simultaneously. You savor this tiny bit of peace with him. “I think I am gonna grab a drink,” Soonyoung gets up suddenly. “Do you want anything?” “Yeah, like a juice or something.” You watch him leave, checking out his ass as he stands in the concessions line. Nice and firm, definitely a football player’s ass. You look away before being caught, watching the crew prepare for the next act. You feel like a young girl who just realized you have a crush on a boy. You’re giddy inside, hypersensitive to everything around you and how you look. You hope he finds you as attractive as he says he does, or if not, keep up the lie a little longer. You’ve been dealt many disappointments in your life, and you can’t let this be one of them. 

“Here. I got you a lemonade.”

You gaze up at Soonyoung, carefully grabbing the cup from his hand. He has a cup of beer in the other, sipping before making a face. You laugh in your cup, tasting your sweet drink with some tart. You feel refreshed and a little bit alive, thanks to him. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready for the FOO FIGHTERS?”

The crowd erupts into a roar as the band joins the stage, getting their placements to perform. Jolts of electric excitement course throughout your body, screaming your heart out before the first string is played on the guitar. You’ve always wanted to see them in concert, being a huge fan of Nirvana and following Dave Grohl after. Despite everything, he seems like a rad guy, and

if you ever had the opportunity, you would want to pick his brain and jam out with him. “ARE YOU MUTHAFUCKERS READY?” Dave Grohl shouts into the mic. 

 You both scream as the first song is played, the drums scratching the excellent part of your brain while the guitars take you to another level. You look at Soonyoung, his attention on the band with his arms folded, in awe of the performance being given. He looks adorable, and all you can do is smile, satisfied that you are in this space and can experience this moment. The band keeps playing hit after hit, the energy around you making you want to levitate in the clouds. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. You reach the last song of the night, and the key changes, the guitars riffing into a song you know all too well. “I want everyone to sing this song with us— this is for the regular heroes out there.” 

You feel the emotion and intensity in Dave Grohl’s voice, making you emotional. The song is about the ordinary person and their potential; you wish your family saw your potential. You wish you could share your music with them and see you thrive in the elements you’re most comfortable in. But instead, you’ve been cast out, and as much as you worked hard to get over it, it hurts you deeply. “Are you okay?” Soonyoung looks at you wide-eyed; you’re unaware of the tears trickling down your face. All you want to do is be held and told everything will be okay. As if he read your mind, he holds your hand, his thumb rubbing your palm softly, keeping you anchored in your emotional storm. Nothing else needed to be said between you two; the song lyrics moved your spirit. Kudos, my hero

Leavin' all the mess

You know my hero

The one that's on

There goes my hero

Watch him as he goes

There goes my hero

He's ordinary

“Thank you for taking me to the concert. I had a really good time.”

You sit with Soonyoung in his car, sitting outside of your dorm. You talked about music all the

way back home, singling your hearts out to whatever is on the radio. Soonyoung is surprisingly a good singer, hitting some notes even better than you can. You wonder if he had any training. “I’m glad I was able to make it up to you,” he grins. “Oh, please,” you wave him off. I’m the one who started us on the wrong foot.” “True. But I think you more than made up for it tonight.” “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes playfully. “Can I ask you something?” “Sure.” 

“Why were you crying during the concert?” You knew this question would come eventually, but you still felt unprepared. You hadn’t really talked about your family life with anyone besides Nikki, but you were determined to keep it to yourself. But he makes you want to open up. “The song really hits me,” you point at your chest. “I feel every word and every percussion note as it plays. It reminds me of my mom and dad, and I wish they saw me as a normal person with their own aspirations rather than the person they want me to be. It was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. Soonyoung nodded his head, understanding what you were saying. 

“My parents wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer, and I just don’t see myself doing that. I fell in love with music and singing, and when I shared that I wanted to do songwriting full-time, they made me feel so low. Like I am stupid and naive for wanting a career, I would actually be happy.” You huff, wiping fresh tears off of your face. “I just wanted them to support me, but they couldn’t even do that. Aside from my grandparents, they cut me off completely.” “That’s not cool,” Soonyoung scoffs. “So they just went cold turkey and quit talking to you?” You nod, bitterly reliving the last conversation you had with them before you made no contact. “Why can’t our parents just let us live the lives we want? It’s like they want to live vicariously through us.” “Right?!” You exclaim. “See, you get it!”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he mumbled. You turn your body to look at him, studying his face and the possible thoughts he is having. You may see more eye to eye than you realize. ‘So, what’s your damage?” You poke at him. “It’s the same as yours,” he revealed. “They just want me to keep playing basketball so I can go into the big leagues and take care of everyone. I am essentially everyone’s meal ticket.” “Well, you don’t have to be,” you say. “You could just say fuck ‘em and live for yourself.” “Easier said than done,” he sighs. “I’m the first person in my family to attend college, and I actually like playing basketball. I believe in it, bleed it, all that… but whenever I am around my folks or friends, that’s all they want me to be about it. It’s like I’m not real. I am a person with complex interests and feelings, too.” 

“I know exactly what you mean, tiger.” 

You smile reassuringly; you understand that last sentence all too well. Your family would rather consider you the family fuck up, the black sheep, instead of understanding that you wanted different things. Why is that so fucking complicated? You stifle a yawn, looking at your watch and seeing how late it was.

“I really like talking to you and being around you,” Soonyoung confesses. I hope we can do it more.” “Yeah,” you gaze into his eyes. “ I would love that.” He walks you to your dorm, opens the doors, and holds your waist as you walk up the steps. His hands bring jitters and butterflies in your stomach that you hope you can experience more. You know you have a hard, cold exterior on the outside, but deep down, you want to feel love and adoration from someone. You hope Soonyoung can bring that. 

You never want this feeling to go away.

“Thank you for walking me in,” you say, unlocking the keys to your room. “I know I was being a bitch early, but thank you for showing me a good time anyway.” 

“It was worth it, seeing a smile on your face.” 

“Was it?” 

“Yeah,” he leans in closer. “I want to see it more.”

His lips touch yours, your chest bursting like fireworks as he deepens the kiss. Your arms rest on his shoulders, feeling natural and comfortable like a glove. He is gentle and kind, not doing too much but making you feel safe and like you can depend on him. It's crazy how one kiss can have you seeing your future. 

“We should do that more often,” you joke, leaving one last peck. He chuckles, pulling you into a hug. “We will. I’ll make sure to do it more often.” 

“Okay,” you say, walking into your dorm. “I’ll hold you to it.”

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 6

Hello! And welcome to another chapter of this very underrated fic. Thank you to everyone who has given it love in the way of comments, reblogs/tags, and likes.

It's London calling! And we meet a Murray Bauman in the wild. Eddie and Steve get a little introspective and Steve does something rash.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

Their trip through the haunting and beautiful Ireland was amazing. So many tales and history. This is why Steve wanted to do more than just America like Eddie had originally wanted, because America just didn’t have the history Europe and other places did. Not unless you wanted to disturb actual First Nation people and that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost, thank you.

They were on the ferry from Northern Ireland to Scotland and Steve was looking out over his shoulder at the water as he leaned against the guardrail. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the wind to blow through his hair.

Eddie slid his arm around him and Steve laid his head on his shoulder.

Today Eddie had his beard and faux-dreadlocks in a light blue button up shirt and cream colored wide-legged pants. His chunky sunglasses covered the his face.

“You know,” Eddie murmured, “until we reached this leg of our journey and you started to disguise me, I didn’t realize how much I missed just being Eddie Munson, regular guy. I can really see the appeal of you and friends’ way of doing it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Of course it means that we can’t go all out and buy everything we want, stay in fancy hotels, show up at restaurants without a reservation and get in. But I can go into my local grocery store and buy two tubs of mint ice cream because I felt like it.” He lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Like some Karen would judge me, but it’s not going to go up on TMZ that I’m letting myself go.”

God, Eddie had had that happen more times than he cared to count. Like once Chrissy was on her period and he went to go get her chocolate, Ben and Jerry’s, and pads. Before he even got to his car it was all over the internet that he was letting himself go, just because it was 2am and his best friend needed something to help her feel better.

“You think you’ll ever come out?” he asked, pulling Steve in closer.

It was a familiar and well-worn topic of theirs; whether or not Steve would ever come out as bisexual at least.

He ducked his head and looked away. He didn’t know. He didn’t like hiding parts of himself for those he loved. He would like to tell people this is the love of my life.

“Would you leave me if I said no?” he mumbled, not daring to look up.

Eddie placed his finger under Steve’s chin and lifted his head gently. “Of course not, Stevie. There are literal actors who have been married for years and no one knows. It’s just between them. We could do that too. Just a quiet ceremony, Robin and Chrissy as the witnesses, and a justice of the peace.”

Steve let out a weak sort of watery laugh and shook his head. “I want all our friends there, famous and otherwise. I want a full tilt party with music playing into the early hours of the morning. I want fancy tuxes and flowers galore. I know I might not get that, the absolute coward that I am. But if I marry you, it be to scream from the rooftops that I love you.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “Softy.” Steve blushed. “Besides there is nothing in the world that says we can’t have it both ways. Have a quiet little ‘just us’ and then go full tilt when you come out. You don’t even have to tell anyone. Just a little comfort that I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie kissed him deeply and then tucked his head under his chin and they stayed like that until the ferry docked in Scotland.

~

God, Scotland and England were beautiful countries Eddie decided as he watched the rolling green hills from his train window. That was another thing he really liked about Europe in general, just all the different ways to travel that weren’t a car.

He looked over at Steve who had his glasses on and reading a book. He smiled at the title. His boyfriend wasn’t a fantasy fan or science fiction either, really, but put a clever mystery in his hands and you would have to pry to the book from his cold, dead fingers.

He glanced over at Chrissy and Robin who were playing Go Fish! They had asked him if he wanted to join them, but he passed. He rarely got time to just relax and watch the scenery go by when he was on tour. He was always doing something related to the band. Writing music, practicing, talking about the next venue, interview, or TV spot.

Him and his friends had fun, because of course they did. But it was nice to just let his mind wander. Currently he was sad that they were going to have to miss Wales this time. He really wanted to buy some Welsh gold jewelry. It’s super rare and absolutely gorgeous.

Maybe he would have to come back later and get something special for Steve. Just something simple like matching bands even if it wasn’t on the left hand. Or necklaces. Just something simple to prove they were it for each other.

“I made an appointment with a well-known tattoo artist in London,” Steve said nonchalant, but like he was reading Eddie’s thoughts.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Steve. Robin nearly giving herself whiplash in her speed.

“As your friend, manager, and platonic soulmate,” she said darkly, “I advise against that. You can cover it up but someone, somewhere will see it.”

Steve looked up from his book and leveled her with his best bitchy glare. “Not if it’s on my ass.”

Chrissy and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and they shared a shocked glance. Eddie always loved tattoos, he had a couple of stick and poke style ones from when he was young and stupid and couldn’t afford to pay for an artist to do the job, but there was one place, well technically two if you included his dick, which he absolutely did, that he refused to get a tattoo on and that was his ass. Not being able to sit down properly for what would probably be weeks was not his idea of a good time.

“Not really, though, right?” Chrissy asked with a grimace.

Steve took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course not really. Sheesh, you guys. But I hid fucking hickies from the both of you for a year and you never noticed, so I’m pretty sure I can hide one fucking tattoo.”

Robin and Chrissy shared their little ‘manager’ glance and Chrissy folded first.

“You’re right, Steve,” she said calmly. “Not once did you forget or slip up and you should be applauded for that. But is there a reason you’re deciding to get a tattoo now instead of waiting until we’re back in the States and you can use Eddie’s personal artist?”

He looked over at Robin and their little telepathy thing went off again and this time Robin folded first.

“It’s for Eddie,” she murmured. “They can’t be out as a couple and with Steve being the romantic that he is, wouldn’t want to get married without all his friends there, so this is his way of telling Eddie he isn’t going anywhere either.”

Eddie blinked for a moment. “Do you think they take walk-ins?”

“I booked it for both of us.” Steve smiled at him and took his hand. Eddie beamed back at him.

“They are so disgustingly cute,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms. “I bet Steve has this really sweet idea for a tattoo that even if people do notice it they won’t be able to tell the meaning but he and Eddie will know and be so sickeningly precious about it.”

Eddie gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. “I love my super clever boyfriend and can’t wait to see what this brilliant plan is.”

~

Steve’s brilliant plan was half of a white mask on Eddie’s inner wrist and half of guitar on Steve’s and when they held hands it formed almost heart.

The tattoo artist was really impressed with the idea and was more than happy to implement it. Steve walked out of there, completely smug as Chrissy pointed out. Deservedly so.

They were to stay in London for three days because of all the haunted places in London alone, there were so many worth visiting. They were going to start at Jack the Ripper tour and move onto the tour of London.

The tour they learned with deep dismay had accidentally been scheduled at 2pm and not 2am like Eddie had thought it said. It was so boring and their tour guide so dull, Eddie accidentally tripped of one of those concrete pillars they had in the middle of the sidewalk to prevent cars from driving up on it.

“Oof!” Eddie wheezed as he straightened up. “Why do they even put those things here?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” a nasally voice said from behind them. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”

They all turned slowly to see a weaselly little bald man with thick horn-rimmed glass.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy said slowly. “Murray Bauman, as I live and breath. What the hell are you doing in London?”

He shrugged. “Eking out a living doing tours for bored tourists. When the biggest metal band in the world drops you, so does everyone else.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a grimace. Corroded Coffin had deliberately did that to Nancy after the shit she pulled with Steve and trying to be The Fallen’s agent. But this one was a complete accident.

“Oh fuck off,” Robin said with a grin. “You love it. I can tell. You have actual notes written down, you have a map marked with all the spots the murders take place. I bet you have all the great stories.”

Murray flushed and cocked his head to the side. “I mean I didn’t want to brag. But yeah, certainly better than Molly over there.” He jutted his thumb at their tour guide. “Most of the good ones are from tour companies and then you get people like Molly who make it look legit online and trick people into taking day tours.”

“God, I was so bored,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I felt jet lagged.”

Murray’s eyes instantly narrowed and cocked his head to the side and instantly everyone else tensed up. He took in their reactions and mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “if you’re still in town tomorrow, meet me here at 9pm and I’ll give you a proper tour.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “Or what?”

“Huh?” He was confused for a moment before he smacked his forehead. “Oh! No, no. I’m not going to blackmail you. Holy shit. If people want to enjoy a vacation without all the publicity, good on them.” He looked Eddie up and down. “Looks good on you kid.”

Eddie was suddenly glad for the large sunglasses and beard because it hid the blush on his cheeks.

“No, I’m just saying,” Murray continued, “that if you wanted to experience a proper Jack the Ripper tour, I’m willing to do it. I don’t have a tour currently booked and beside I like her.” He pointed at Robin, who grinned back him.

The four them all shared glances at each other.

“I’m down,” Steve said with a shrug. “If you’re as good as you say you are and aren’t trying to actively ‘get back’ at Chrissy for taking your job, I know I’d be interested in seeing what Whitechapel has to offer after dark.”

“I like him too,” Murray said brightly, rubbing his hands together. “So what do the rest of you say?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steve’s three menaces said together.

He just smiled fondly and shook his head.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

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3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

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10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina

[moonydustx]

So I have this thing...

I need more Law x Reader fics pleeeaassee (；ＴДＴ)

Anyway...

May I ask a reader (up to you what gender) reacting to law proposing to her? Which I doubt canon law would even do but I guess since it's fanfiction, who cares if it's Canon, right???

OMG, this is incredible, hold my hand and I'm with you on this, thank you so much for the request. In my HCs on the Law (I will still post them) I think if it was important for him to do it without even blinking. Surely it would be something more discreet, a small ceremony between just two? I don't know, I might be rambling too much.

Apologies because I didn't have much time to review and maybe I got carried away writing it. I hope you enjoy!

Important: italics are for flashbacks and character readings aloud.

The proposal - favorite moment (part 01)

Part 02 - Part 03

Law counted the minutes until night arrived, it was one of his favorite moments. That was when you would sneak around the submarine and end up knocking on the door on it. In most of these situations, you didn't get out anytime soon. He's not much of a follower on the calendar, celebrating each month together - and come to think of it, everything happened so naturally that it was decided on which day it started to be difficult for you to be a boyfriend.

Like so many other nights, you found yourself doing what was one of the only things Law could name as a hobby. You were nestled between his legs, your body resting on his chest as you attentively read another book. He found himself leaning against the wall, one of his hands resting on his body while with the other he tried to leaf through one of the new editions of Sora comics that he had picked up on the last island he visited.

He had already lost count of how many times the two of you had wasted hours tangled up in his bed reading and something else he was used to hearing you sniffle at something, like you were doing this time. His eyes looked away from the painting and went straight to where you were reading, just out of curiosity. The other times you were sniffling, he had found you reading about some character who died, some reunion, some couple who got together. This time, from what he could see, it was a marriage proposal.

He already knew it was an important topic for you. He also knew that if he had to choose to spend his entire life with someone, it would be you. Law had thought about the hypothesis a few times and when reading the small excerpt from the book, he let himself think about the idea.

"Wow." your feet were planted in front of an immense showcase. Dresses were stacked side by side in various sizes and textures, some with huge trains and others full of silk.

"Don't tell me you're one of those marriage freaks." Ikkaku planted himself next to you, next to Bepo.

"They are beautiful." the bear confirmed, touching the glass.

"Not freak…" you tried to find the words, you really didn't want to sound like a crazy person. "I mean, marriages are two people coming out in love to the world, to the government, to whatever god they may believe in or to no god at all, as if nothing could intervene or separate them."

"Okay, insane then." Shachi appeared behind you, mumbling.

"Actually, that's a nice way of thinking." Ikkaku replied to him, watching you just shrug. "And I won't deny it, they are beautiful dresses."

"Time to go." The captain's voice echoed closer than you imagined, as if he had been there the whole time listening.

Seeing the crew members move forward, agreeing to the captain's request, Law took a few seconds to evaluate the display that had distracted everyone. He could just be daydreaming, but one day you would look incredible wearing a dress like that along with the new name you would carry. Ms. Trafalgar.

From that day on, the idea of ​​proposing to you never left his mind, Law just needed to find the perfect opportunity and it appeared before his eyes.

"Okay…" your choked voice took him out of his reverie. "That's enough tears for today and I'm getting sleepy." you closed the book, turning towards him and snuggling even closer against Law's body.

"Do you mind if I keep reading some more?" he asked and you just mumbled no. His hand got tangled in your strands of hair and it didn't take long for unconsciousness to take you away.

Law gave himself a week to put the plan into practice. The small room at Polar Tang was tidier than usual however you could notice Law more tense than usual behind his back.

"Everything is fine?" you asked, quickly turning to face him. Law seemed distracted from the book in his hands.

"Everything amazing." his lips quickly touched the top of your head. It was now. All the other battles he had faced had not even come close to the anxiety he felt at that moment. "That book you were reading last week?"

"Ah, it's this one. I'm almost done. It's a period romance, princess, knight and all the little things that involves." you laughed, knowing that from your description he would hate the book. "There's no point trying to convince me to read Sora, this one is much cooler."

"So cool you were crying the last time you read it." he said in a teasing tone.

In a casually planned way, even if it went unnoticed in your eyes, he placed the comic he was reading on the bed.

"It's because he was so sweet to her, made an amazing statement."

"Really? Let me see." He moved even closer to your back, looking for space on your shoulder to follow the written words and find the perfect cue.

"Here. Can I read it?"

"Please." he asked, feeling his hands sweat cold.

"Of all the countries I've visited, I don't think I've ever found a home except in you. You've been my home, my safe haven." You started reading, already feeling yourself melting with those words. At the same time, Law took out a small box hidden behind one of the pillows. "So let me be the sword that protects you, the heart that loves you infinitely. I thought happiness would only find me in the next life until I found myself lost in you. What do you mean by that, my love? So, the The knight fell to his knees, the wounds of the battle he faced seemed not to bother him, not when Annya's eyes rested on him. Annya then heard the four words that carried a lifetime of promises…"

"Would you marry me?" Law's voice echoed alongside yours.

Before you could ask what he thought, a small black box appeared in your field of vision. Inside it, a golden ring with a small heart symbol glittered. The book fell from your hands, finding your lap, as you turned to your boyfriend.

"Law?" at that moment, your voice was not the most reliable. As shaky as she was, your vision was blurred by what you suspected were tears. Your hands covered your lips, still not believing what you were seeing.

"Maybe my sword heals you more than defends you, but that doesn't mean I'll let anyone hurt you in this world. You're my home, my safe haven and I can't wait for you to be my wife. I'd even kneel, but It's a little complicated." he smiled, seeing you still paralyzed on top of him. "So, would you marry me?"

"Yes." the first time came out as a whisper. "Yes Yes Yes!" with each new time the word left your lips, you allowed euphoria to take over your body.

Law took your hand, placing a small kiss before putting on the ring and repeating the gesture, as soon as the jewel was in the place where it belonged. His hands pulled you so your legs were around his waist.

"That's…" you even tried to speak, but it was impossible to put everything you felt at the moment into so few words. You saw him pull out a ring that was the same color as yours, without all the details. "Let me do it."

Before he could put it on his own finger, you took it from his hand and repeated the same thing he had done to you. He placed a small kiss between the tattooed fingers and let the jewelry take its rightful place.

"I don't believe." You looked at your hand and then at him. "Law, that was so amazing."

"You're incredible. I can't wait to see you become Mrs. Trafalgar. My beautiful, smart, a little crybaby…" he wiped away your tears, bringing a laugh from your lips. "My dear wife."

"I love you so much." you cupped his face, taking his lips to yours.

Even though it was full of emotions and promises, it was a calm kiss. Law, like you, wanted to record every second of that moment, every inch of skin kissed, every touch.

In the end, Law was also a marriage nut - just with his dear Lady Trafalgar.

----

Little extra:

Law was never a big fan of public displays of affection, but that morning he had made an exception. Seeing you happy, showing off your new ring and the promise of marriage, ideas of what to do on the date, honeymoon suggestions. He couldn’t deny it, it was amazing to see how happy you were with the whole situation.

His happiness was short-lived when he saw three sullen faces - one of them looking like a bear - sitting in front of him.

"So Law, my friend." Penguin began.

"Shut up, it's me."

"But I'm his best friend." Bepo grumbled.

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to understand what the three were discussing so much

"Which of the three of us will be the best man?" Shachi warned and Law watched the three in front of him cross their arms and wait for a response.

Before he could respond, Law felt two arms slide and lock around him.

"We haven't decided that yet guys. We can talk about it later." you asked and watched them begin to argue among themselves who would be what.

"Thanks." Law muttered, making you laugh. You bent down to his ear level.

"And you, I'll be waiting for you in the room. I got someone to cover my duties today, now I want to continue feeling what my dear fiancé can do for me." In contrast to the whispered and sexy voice that left your lips, you left a chaste kiss on Law's cheek and left towards the dorms.

[synnamonroll666]

Angel Kisses

Pairing: Fujin x Fem!Reader Description: Fujin invites you to a special garden to show you just how special you really are to him... Warnings: Smut, P In V, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Third Person POV, Fluff, Public Nudity, Public Sex, A Tiiiiny Bit Of Fingering, And Sliiiiight Size Difference If You Squint... Word Count: 2.2k A/N: This fic was a request from the wonderful @mornandil. Girl, I sincerely apologize for how long this took. I hit probably the worst writer's block of my life recently and the second I felt myself coming out of it, I went right to writing this fic for you. I know how much you love Fujin so I wanted to make this as special as I could for you. I hope you enjoy it. 🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

When you get invited on a date with a God, you cannot be late. Fujin—your boyfriend of 1 month now—had invited you to this unique garden this very evening. He said that when the sun would set, these special flowers would bloom and glow, lighting up the whole garden with their lights. He called them "angel kisses."

Intrigued by this, you hurried out the door and to the location he asked you to meet him: the forest. You weren't too afraid to walk in the woods alone at this hour. You knew that if trouble came your way, he would find you. He had this special way of knowing whenever you needed him the most.

So you rushed down the pathway that split the cluster of trees and bushes up, the excitement filling your heart fueling each quick step you took. Eventually, you found exactly what he had told you to expect—a wall of stone that stood about 8 feet tall. It seemed both man-made and created by nature at the same time. Your eyes roamed over the rocks carefully, trying to seek out that one different one. Once your orbs settled on the slightly different-colored stone, you pressed your palm against it.

Though you expected it, you couldn't repress the startled gasp from escaping through your parted lips as you heard the sudden shifting of the stones. Dust and dirt stirred in the air as a door opened within the wall, revealing a beautiful sight. Your feet slowly began to take subtle steps—almost subconsciously—into the hidden area.

As soon as you entered, the door slammed shut behind you, earning a yelp from your frightened form. It was a large contrast to the slow manner in which it had moved to begin with. As you placed a hand upon your chest to help calm your fast-paced heartbeat, you couldn't help but feel that it was almost as if it were being forcefully closed by someone nearby. That's when you heard the fond chuckle of someone familiar.

"I was wondering when you would join me." The soft voice of Fujin spoke with a sense of peace and kindness in his tone.

You turned back around to see the garden—so full of life and love. The air around you was fresh and inviting. A peaceful bliss fell over your body, causing your shoulders to slump slightly and your heartbeat to lower as you began to relax. White flower buds littered the deep green bushes around you, and a stone pathway led you to your man, who stood where the bushes broke apart, revealing a cliff edge and a gorgeous sunset. The sky was hues of vibrant pinks and oranges as the sun set into the skyline. And there stood Fujin before you, the sun's glow behind him, making him appear as some sort of angel.

Without taking much more time to investigate your surroundings, you ran to your lover, kissing him with need. You swore that your heart had grown two times its size at the very sight of him. He was wearing this silky robe—something like a true god would wear. It was far different than anything you had seen him in before—considering that most of the time, you would see him in combat or in meetings with the other champions and Radian—but you weren't complaining. It took a good minute for you to gain the will to pull back from the kiss to gaze up at him through your lashes—to admire how his eyes glowed with love and how his white hair cascaded down his neck and shoulders like a river.

His soft smile broadened just a bit as he reached up and gently caressed your cheek with his large hand—gentle, like you were more fragile than a delicate flower to him. His eyes lingered on your own for just a moment, before lowering to your lips.

You could see the thoughts swirling inside his mind. He had this playful look in his eyes, like he always had. But there was something else in his eyes that day—something alluring and tempting. Then he leaned forward once more, to place a more tender kiss on your lips, taking a moment to savor your taste. It was something he could never get enough of, and neither could you. You were addicted to each other—like each other's personal drug, though completely harmless and safe in contrast to others out there. With Fujin, you were never in harm's way.

"You're my angel, (Y/N)." He breathed while pressing his forehead against yours. Though your eyes remained closed, you could see his movements within your mind—the way his eyelids flickered subtly and how that soft smile remained in place. "Let me show you how much you mean to me."

He turned you to face the cliff edge and stood behind you, his chest pressed firmly against your back. You could see the continuation of the forest down below, with trees stretching out for miles and miles. That's when you felt his fingers trail down your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Each touch of his skin on yours feels like a blessing, bringing you closer to heaven each time he caressed you. It's something special that you have never experienced before—hell, not every girl gets the privilege to date a god—but you thank the Elder Gods each day that you have the honor of calling this man your lover.

"Close your eyes." He whispered, his breath fanning the shell of your ear gently as he did.

You did as you were asked, letting your eyelids fall shut as your heart beat quickened ever so slightly in anticipation of what he was planning. Before you knew it, his presence was no longer felt behind your back, but a subtle breeze was caressing your body. It felt much more warm than something done by nature—warm like the touch of his soft fingertips. It came from all different directions, like a ghostly embrace around your small form.

"I'll be the wind beneath your soft, angel wings, (Y/N). I'm going to treat you the way an angel should be treated." You could hear him call out, though his voice was now more of an echo, nearly transparent in a way.

His voice—like a siren's call—beckoned you, so you reached out to feel him, but only a breeze flowed through your fingers like strains of hair. It was relaxing, to say the least, sending you into a trance-like state in an instant. That's when you could feel a familiar pair of hands on your sides, sending little shocks of energy flowing through your veins.

"Hold still," You could hear his voice whisper in your right ear when you flinched, his breath once again grazing your skin. Though now, a few octaves lower than before.

His hands then slowly slid down your stomach, letting those electric sensations linger within your blood. You could feel how tender his touches were through the fabric of your dress, and the urge to tear yourself out of it to feel his skin against yours grew strong.

This he must have sensed, because then his hands moved down to caress your thighs before stopping at the hem of your dress, his fingers toying with the seam of it as he patiently waited for consent. As you nodded your head, you could hear your lover let out a soft scoff. In this moment, you knew your error. But Fujin would still remind you anyway.

"I would prefer your words, my sweet." He expressed, a subtle amusement thick in his sentence.

It sounded as though he was smiling at your shy nature, which held you back from being very vocal in these situations with him. Not that you were in these situations with him often. The closest you had gotten before was a pretty intense make-out session, which ended in both of you cuddling up by a warm fire under the stars for the night. But something told you that tonight would be different.

"I consent, Fujin." You accepted his offer coyly, though there was a hidden confidence breaking through the cracks. You wanted this just as much—if not more—as he did.

With that, Fujin lifted your dress over your head, revealing your bare body to the world around you, although only you and him were present. The setting sun casted a golden glow over you both, and you could feel the heat radiating off of it seeping into your pores. It made you feel like a goddess—his goddess.

Your body finally relaxed again, and you took a deep breath in, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers around you and the scent of Fujin as well. It was different, to say the least. It was so unique and special that it was unexplainable in a way. And somehow, it was comforting to you. A pleased grin toyed with the corners of your lips, and you opened your eyes to see the continuation of the forest down below the cliff edge.

The sound of birds getting ready for a night's rest could be heard all around you. It told you that this was the home of many and made you feel grateful that you would be able to share it for a night with the man you loved so deeply. Fujin pulled your hair to the side and began pressing soft kisses to the column of your neck while carefully pulling your panties down your thighs and, soon after, your legs.

A shudder crawled down your form as a warm finger gently glided through your already dripping folds, and you could barely keep yourself from moving against him. And when the pressure of two digits entering your core met your senses, you were already seeing stars—putty in his godly hands. Seeing your need for him, Fujin discarded his fingers and then his robe, leaving him in absolutely nothing. When he returned behind you, you could feel the muscles of his broad chest press firmly against your back.

The sudden feeling of something thick and moist met your entrance before gliding through your folds, repeating the same pattern his finger made moments ago. Knowing what was coming, you couldn't help but smile. Anticipation grew quickly as he took his time to prepare you for what was to come. And when he finally pushed his long, girthy member within you, a soft moan broke your lips apart as your chest heaved with a pleased and trembling sigh.

Holding you from behind, Fujin's arms squeezed you ever so lightly as he waited for you to adjust. All it took was a soft utterance of confirmation that you were ready, and Fujin began at a slow and steady rhythm, thrusting in and out with loving care. The way his member dragged across your insides, the way his tip tenderly kissed your sweet spot, the way his lips met the side of your neck and found every pulse point to make your knees weak—even the way he breathed on you—had you already on the brink of letting go.

Getting lost in the sweet melody that was your pleasured voice, Fujin began to move faster, his hips snapping back and forth to edge you right where he wanted you. Your eyes—though just barely open due to the high—gazed upon the sunset. It was as if you could see him in its rays. It felt as though you could see him everywhere. He was your world, your God, and your everything.

But then the sun set completely, cutting off all sight with a sudden darkness. Though that didn't last long, as the flower buds finally bloomed, the white petals opening up to reveal something you could have never imagined being real. The flowers glowed brightly, like heaven's light calling forth spirits to come home. It lit up the garden as well as your heart, as suddenly you did not feel as if you were in nature but in an entirely different universe. It made every emotion felt in that moment feel 100% stronger.

And that, combined with a gentle press of his finger on your swollen mound, was all you needed to get that coil within you to snap. Your knees buckled as you finally released, but Fujin was quick to catch your fall. He held you tightly as your threads of sanity came undone by his love.

Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moaned, you missed most of how the garden's white light lit the two of you up. But you felt it in your soul. Like how you felt Fujin release inside of you. Softly whispering what sounded like a thankful prayer in your ear as he filled you up. And after he finished, his lips returned to your ear, brushing its shell once more.

"You make me feel what it is like to be human." He murmured before placing a soft kiss on your now tear-stained cheek. You hadn't even noticed that you had started crying from the emotional overestimation of it all.

The garden's light had died down, and the two of you were left in darkness. But it didn't matter. The comfort of being in your lover's arms as your body relaxed from the intensity of your lovemaking was enough to bring you back to the light.

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

(Some extra gifs I found because why not? 🤭)

(Man— 😍)

[kelppsstuff]

Hi!

I was just wondering if it’d be possible for you to do like a pick your ending for the Adam cheating fic?

Seriously, your poll hurt me to choose between them.

“HOW LONG.”

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | ALT ENDING

Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of cheating!

Taglist: @dustsofangels @leathesimp @michelleszn @pinkiee @strangerthings36 @sashaphantomhive @ladyninggs @dak-ots @adamsfavoritesinner

Okay so yes I can and shall be doing this! I’ll have an alt ending of Lucifer getting the girl. I’m doing and “ALT” instead of choose your own cause Adam did win the poll! However I hope you enjoy! 💛 THIS IS ADAMS ENDING!

—

Court went absolutely terrible. Adam had basically trashed the whole idea. Adam also had a huge influence on the court.

I felt truly sorry for Charlie, and Emily. I had thought Sera told Emily, but apparently not. Let’s just say, the whole session could have gone better.

“I’m so sorry Charlie.” We were back in the heaven hotel. We had a few more hours before we had to leave. “It’s okay, not your fault.” Her smile was shaky. “Do you think I could have some time alone?” I smiled gently at her. “Of course darling, get some rest.” I closed the door and looked up to see Lucifer. He looked conflicted, confused, and concerned. The three C’s.

“I knew I shouldn’t have set up this meeting. They crushed her!” We walked back into our own hotel room. “She’s a strong girl Luce. She’ll be okay. I promise.” And she will be. Eventually.

Lucifer smiled at me, but the it faltered. The conflict-ion coming back into his face.

“I saw Lilith.” I nodded my head and gestured for him to continue. “I-I don’t know anymore. I like you.” He sat down on the bed putting his face in his hands. “Like really really like you.” I sat on the floor in front of him. Moving his hands away to look at his crimson eyes. “I like you too.”

His eyes squeeze shut almost as if his next words hurt him to say. “But I made a vow. That no matter what she and I would always have one another.” Even if those words did hurt him, I was positive it hurt me more.

“Your going back to her.” A tear fell down my face. Lucifer opened his eyes again and brushed the said tear aside with his smooth hand.

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t keep my word to her? What kind of example would I be telling my daughter?” My heart was hurting.m but I understood even if it did hurt.

“Do you love her.” My voice breaking. I never even met her and yet it felt like she took away all the ones I loved. “Yes.” Fuck.

“Do you love me?” Another tear fell. This time instead of his hand brushing it away it was his lips.

“Yes.” He whispered just above my cheek, his breath fanning over my skin. Fucking Christ.

“I’ll love you.” I said, my words full of truth. Even if we hadn’t known each other for a long time.

“I’ll always long for you, but I’ll always miss my wife.” He looked so tired, so torn, so broken.

I brought his lips to mine, my lipstick once again staining his lips. “I love you. So I’ll let you go.” Perhaps in another universe. Perhaps another timeline. We would have been together.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“Being you. I couldn’t ask nor want anymore fro you. Your fill me full with content like no other.”

His words done it’s job, it had comforted me.

—

Lilith went back to hell with Lucifer and me and him would share conversations, but we drew a line we never crossed.

Over time Adam started to show up a lot more around me. I had also made him call off the extermination. He always was asking for me to come home every time. This most recently time had finally worked out in his favor.

—

“I miss you.” Adam said looking up at my roof in the hotel. “I’m sure you do.” He had only said it a million times. He got up and turned my body away from the window, making me look at him.

“Every breath I take without you is filled with poison. Every drink I sip burns my throat as if it’s lava. You food I eat I feel like chocking to death.” Be brushed my forehead with his own. “I have tasted the most delicious divine fruit of all in a place that was paradise, but even that felt like hell because I didn’t have you.” I went to speak but he pushed a finger to my lips, dishing me. “I never asked for Lilith. Or Eve. And yet both left me. I never felt good enough, not once because of it. That’s why I did that horrid thing. But I was too good for them. The only thing I’m not good enough for is your love, and your being.”

“If I forgive you, you’d do it again.” I tried to explain but he shook his head as if my words were ludicrous. “That’s we’re your wrong, I shall worship the air you breath, devote my entire existence to you and only you. And if I have to rip my heart on and give it to you on a silver platter then so be it, because I love you more than any apple, and garden, and heaven, hell, world. I love you more than anything ever even thought of.”

Tears fell down from my eyes. “One more chance, that’s it.”

—

You didn’t fully trust him but over the years he did as he said and devoted himself to you and only you.

Adam knew you deserved a better man than him, so he became one.

—

AHHHHH DONE! I’m going to do an ALT ENDING! So if you wanted Lucifer it will be out shortly I promise. Also sorry if this was short.

I’m trying to upload at least three things on my upload days! So others should be out today as well so check it out if you’d like!

Taglist

[loozer]

Javierxm!reader where reader admires Javier who gets flustered about it would be so cute!!

Alright, first fic after a while of not writing, with my favorite mexican man, let's do this. I hope you enjoy it, feedback is always appreciated🙏

Warnings;: One mention of reader being a guy, but it was written with a male reader in mind. Not really any other warnings

Usually, Javier would sleep as much as he could unless he had guard duty and was up until the early hours of the morning before someone would come to relieve him and take his post. But tonight, tonight would be an exception.

He's sat by the fire, sharpening his knife. The only sounds being the crickets chirping, someone snoring, the crackle of the fire, and Javier's knife running across the whetstone. Until footsteps were added to the mix.

"Javier? What are you doing up this late?" It was you, and Javier felt the hints of a smile tug at his lips as you sat down on the log across from him.

"I could ask you the same." He chuckled, taking a moment to glance up at you. The warm glow of the fire highlighted your features perfectly, shadowing some parts that the fire's light had trouble reaching but you still looked absolutely handsome either way.

"Can't sleep." Javier answered simply, and you nodded in understanding.

Your eyes stayed on Javier where he was sat, his outfits always so well put together, sometimes you thought of how much money he spent buying the clothes for each piece of his outfit.

It wasn't often that you'd find yourself fantasizing about someone, but Javier had wormed his way into your mind, plauging most of your thoughts like an illness without the cure. Yet, you didn't know if you ever wanted to find said cure.

His voice was something that could be described as angelic, soothing the loudest parts of your mind to a quiet and low whisper. His eyes dark as coffee, but when the light of the setting sun would shine in them, they appeared like pools of honey.

"You're staring, that's kinda rude y'know?" His voice broke your train of thought and when you finally looked at his face, he was staring deeply into your eyes. Looking into your very soul.

"Uh- Sorry." Clearing your throat, you looked away. And Javier being the man that he is, knew there was something on your mind, and he wanted to know.

"Anything you wanna say?" Javier asked, stilling his movements and giving you his full attention.

Looking around, for peering eyes because you knew Micah was definetly up at this hour and his antagonizing would be endless if he saw or heard, and in general because you could not look at Javier without picking him apart to find more things to love and admire.

"No. We- well, I mean. I guess. I'm just, thinking." Trying to choose your words carefully, you stumble over them, only further peaking Javier's curiousity.

Javier leaned forward, "Go ahead, tell me, we're both men here I think I can handle it." He inquired, his tone becoming a bit more playful.

"Well uh,.." You started, palms becoming sweaty before you cleared your throat "You're.. pretty. For a guy, I s'pose." Your voice became softer as you admitted your reason for staring.

Before he could get a response in, you had stood up and began to make your way towards the outskirts of camp, most likely to relieve whoever was on guard duty and take their place in keeping the camp safe.

Javier stayed, processing what you had said to him. What you had called him. Pretty. You had called him pretty. He felt his entire body grow warm, and it was not just from the fire infront of him. He shook his head to stop thinking about it and went back to tending to his knife.

Except he couldn't stop thinking about it, and he wouldn't. There you go, invading his mind and making his heart beat faster than it should. And that's how he stayed for as long as he could remember, sitting by the fire, sharpening his knife, thinking about what you had called him with a flush overtaking his face. The corners of his lip quirked up in a small smile.

[miraclewoozi]

HIGH FIDELITY, PT 2. -c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

( PART ONE )

pair ; vernon x fem!reader.  content ; strangers to lovers.  up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader.   fluff, angst, smut. (MINORS DNI). warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a big theme pretty much throughout. mentions of past relationship breakdowns. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt, reflected in self sabotage. mentions of sickness (acute). wc ; 12.2k ( ~38k total. ) disclaimer ; this fic was inspired by rob + liam in the series high fidelity and is therefore pretty influenced by the show. if you’ve watched it, you’ll probably see a lot of similarities! i just felt so drawn to vernon in this kind of role that i really wanted to try and put a spin on it. i do not claim that every idea behind this is original. notes ; been working on this one for a while. hope you enjoy it.<3

smut tags : making out. some groping. some 'first time together' shenanigans. oral (m rec) & ball sucking hehe. he has a big cock because i have an agenda to push. implied f rec oral. implied multiple rounds. PLEASE let me know if i’ve forgotten anything.

The clock on your bedside table reads somewhere between 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning when you resign from trying to fall asleep and force yourself to sit upright, fed up of tossing and turning between your now too-creased sheets, brain stuck in a foggy, hellish limbo. Your mind won’t shut down. Your body won’t rest. Birds are starting to chirp outside and you can hear them clear as whistles through the cheap window that doesn’t quite seal shut to your left. Your eyes squint in preparation as you reach for your lamp and flood the room in yellowish light, drawing your knees up to your chest. 

You’ve spent so much time in your own thoughts that you’ve begun to feel systemically unwell. Your stomach twists and aches, your eyes are so dry it hurts to even blink and there’s an ache behind them that started as an annoying throb, but has grown over the hours into a roaring flame. From the hairs on your head all the way down to your toes, you feel like you could burst. 

You wish you had it in you to cry. To let it out. Keeping this pent up is no doubt making you feel a hundred times worse, and you think it would be nice to feel something other than the endless swooping of the spiral you’re well and truly making your way down. Your alarms are going to go off in a few hours. I can’t let anyone see me like this, you think. I can’t work in this state. 

You throw ideas around in your head for a little while, thumbs tweaking over your phone as messages get typed, edited, deleted, and repeat. Part of you thinks maybe you could manage. Just tough it out and put on a brave face, because actually, what right do you have to be hiding away when you’re the one who ran out one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met? But you just know something will go wrong, even if you tell the boys that you need to camp out in the office for the day. When you need peace and quiet, you can never find it behind that creaky old door. When was the last time you got a full admin day without being called through to help with a problem or deal with a drama? And truly, the idea of facing the world right now makes you feel like you could be sick. 

Sick…

Could you—?

You’ve never enjoyed taking sick days, even on occasions where you’ve really needed them, when you’ve woken up feeling like you’re knocking at death’s door. Sometimes, you swear the guilt that it brings ends up making you feel ten times worse than whatever your ailment is doing to you in the first place. But your exhaustion lets impulse take hold and you’re already sending a message into your group chat with the boys before you can talk yourself out of it, biting the inside of your cheek as the little indicator pops up on your screen. Delivered. 

Well. You’re committed now, whether you like it or not. 

Not feeling so hot. I won’t be in today. Take it easy, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Sorry. 

You pick your comforter up off the bed and wrap it around your shoulders like an extravagant, well-padded cape, trudging your way through the apartment until you’re stood, barefoot and cold, staring into the bright light of your refrigerator. Somehow in the seconds between pulling the handle and now, you’ve managed to forget what is what that you were hoping to find. More out of spite for how the bulbs are currently bleaching your retinas than because you want it, you pull the milk from its home in the cradle of the door and fix yourself a glass to take with you and put it on the coffee table back in your living room.

Without an ounce of grace, you throw yourself onto your couch: your head rests against the arm of the seat like you’re in the apartment of a sketchy therapist, and you’re wrapped up in your duvet as if it’s a sleeping bag, treating yourself to the luxury of a slightly different ceiling pattern to stare up at. And it could be the change of the room that finally manages to drag you under, or it could be the total fatigue of the emotional rollercoaster that has been your last twenty four hours…

But your glass of milk goes completely untouched as you eventually drift off, either way. 

Of course, it’s not for nearly long enough. Barely an hour after finally managing to fall asleep, your phone starts to vibrate harshly against your chest. You tap at the screen blindly, hoping to shut off what you assume is your alarm; when it’s still buzzing a few seconds later, you reluctantly open your eyes, fighting back a sob. It’s not your alarm – it’s an incoming call. Why would it be anything else?

“Hello?” You grumble, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on the couch cushion next to your head. The energy expenditure of holding the device up to your ear feels mammoth.

“Ohh, you sound terrible.” Seungkwan’s voice sounds more taunting than it does concerned, but you pin that down to a symptom of his over-familiarity. “You’re sick?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I heard there was something going around,” Seungkwan tells you. Great, you think. Good to know. Now go away. “Yeah – one of my cousins… ah, what did she say…”

“Hey, man, I really-...”

“That’s it. She said she was love sick.”

You sigh so hard you think it’s a miracle you don’t pass out.  

“Don’t–”

“You better make sure Vernon gives you plenty of Vitamin D, today,” he harps on. “It’s quite the disease. I heard it can really–”

“Seungkwan!” You snap, finally, grabbing your phone and barking straight into the microphone. He doesn’t need to know that you’re stretching the truth to its absolute limit, but you certainly won’t let him keep believing that you’re calling out just to get laid. “Knock it off, okay? I’ve been awake all night.” 

(You suppose you should be glad that that much really is true.)

He falls silent, and you don’t know if he totally believes you, but a few breaths later, you hear his voice through the speaker again. He’s softer, this time. Quieter.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, hesitating a moment before he goes on. “Try to get some rest, all right? I’ll swing by after work and check in with some food, and… if you need anything, just text me?”

You’re immediately overcome with guilt at the sharp change in his demeanour, and it does nothing to settle the way your insides are writhing inside you. You clear your throat and pull your duvet up to cover your face, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. 

“I will,” you mumble. “I’m sorry – thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. You can hear the front door to his own apartment slam shut and his breaths pick up as he starts to rush down the stairwell of his building. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

“Hey–” he rushes, before you can hang up the call. “Rest up. Run a bath, drink plenty. Love you.”

You cringe a little, but not enough to stop you from saying it back. Sort of. 

“Yeah. You too.”

Nobody could ever accuse Seungkwan of not being a man of his word. As irritating as he can sometimes be, as determined as he is to get on your every last nerve, you’ve never known him fail to come through on a promise. 

Not long after 6:30pm, you hear a series of knocks at the front door of your apartment. You’ve managed to squeeze in odd shifts of sleep throughout the day and though your head is still in a mess, you feel significantly less irritable than you were this morning. Cleaner, as well. One of your (several) naps took place in the bath, where you laid there and let the hot water draw some of the anxieties clean out of you to float towards the ceiling amongst the lavender-scented steam. 

In the knowledge that Seungkwan’s expectations of you are quite literally zero, you don’t bother to fix the one leg of your sweatpants that’s rolled up before you heave yourself off the couch and go to let him inside. He stands in the doorway with a bag of takeout food in each hand, all wind-flushed cheeks and that brilliant smile, and you feel like your stomach settles almost straight away when you see him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, toeing off his shoes as he comes inside and lets the door close behind him. He sets the bags down on top of the small table by your front door and cups your face in both of his hands, squeezing your cheeks and frowning down at you. “You look awful.”

“Wow, thanks,” you huff, squirming to get out of his grip. “I was going to say I feel a little better, but…”

“You look exhausted,” Seungkwan clarifies, picking up the bags once more and following you through to your living room as you start to walk away from him. “I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t realise you were actually… this bad…”

“This is doing wonders for my ego,” you grumble. “Keep it coming. Really.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“No, no. By all means, continue to kick a girl while she’s down. Super classy.”

Your best friend flops down onto your couch with an exaggerated huff at your petulance. You curl up in the armchair instead, bringing your knees up beneath you. 

“Do you think it was something you ate?” He asks, refusing to give into your bickering and changing the subject matter instead. 

You shrug your shoulders at him. “I don’t-... I mean, it was more of a head… thing?” 

He sucks his front teeth. “What, like a migraine?”

“Sort of?” 

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’?” He asks. “You’ve had a migraine before. Was it that or not?”

“Well, it’s difficult to-... It wasn’t exactly…”

“Okay.” 

Seungkwan interrupts you as you hesitate again, swinging his legs off the couch and resting his elbows on his thighs, leaning as far towards you as he can while still remaining seated. He wrings his hands, plays with his fingers, lips drawn forward in a stern-looking pout. 

“I thought something was up this morning on the phone, but I didn’t wanna push it because you sounded mad. Now I know something’s wrong with you. What’s going on?”

You swallow hard and cross your arms over your chest, dropping your gaze away from Seungkwan’s very intense one. 

“Nothing,” you lie. 

“Bullshit.”

“Seungkwan!” 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, tipping his head forward and running his hands through his hair. He’s never been a coddler, always one to prefer the tough-love approach: it’s no surprise that he doesn’t appear any softer when he looks back at you. “But we both know that’s crap.”

You can feel your pulse starting to quicken the longer he stares you down. It’s as if he’s burning two great big holes into your head, laser-beams where his pupils ought to be. He’s the master of the hard stare, and you know he won’t move until he hears the truth. 

Maybe I should just tell him. Maybe it’ll help…

“Look, I don’t care how famous he thinks he’s gonna be, if Vernon upset you last night, I’ll kick his ass myself.”

And there are the alarm bells. In hindsight, maybe you should’ve seen this coming; it’s not that far of a reach, and given the few facts that he actually knows, you can’t blame Seungkwan for jumping to this conclusion. It’s quite effective in triggering you to speak up, too. (You think that maybe, this was on purpose. Attack where you’re likely to defend. He knows you like the back of his hand.) In an instant you’re sitting upright with your feet firmly on the floor and you’re shaking your head at him like a dog trying to get itself dry. 

“No, no, no, back it up,” you rush. “It’s nothing like that. He hasn’t done anyth-... God, it’s not him.”

“It better not be,” Seungkwan tells you. His voice still has that dark edge to it, and you’re not sure how exactly to stamp it out. “I’m serious. If he’s done anything-...”

“He hasn’t,” you say more firmly. After a couple slow breaths, you clasp your hands together, swallowing your pride. “The food’s gonna go cold. Go grab a couple glasses and-... whatever else from the kitchen—”

“Only if you tell me what’s happening,” he says, slowly pushing himself up to stand. 

You don’t assent with words, but you don’t have to. You look up at him and nod a couple of times and that’s all he needs. Seungkwan strides off through the doorway, leaving you to shakily exhale away the stress that is once again squeezing at your lungs.

Once the containers are laid out on the table, food is divided up, utensils are handed over and he’s poured you each out a glass of soda, Seungkwan sits back on the couch. He doesn’t prod you, or ask you again – he doesn’t need to. You know what he’s waiting for. Even so, he allows you a few mouthfuls of your dinner first: seeing as this is the first substantial thing you’ve eaten all day, you silently thank him for the generosity.

“All right,” you say, gulping down a few mouthfuls of your drink to re-lubricate your throat. “Okay. Fuck – you’re gonna wanna make yourself comfy for this.”

The only way he moves is to pick up one of the food cartons and settle it on his thigh. Oh, how you wish you were joking. But if he really doesn’t want to heed your warning…

“You know I went on that date the other week?” You ask, biting the inside of your cheek. Seungkwan nods at you, lifting a helping of noodles out of the carton.

“With the hitter and quitter,” he confirms. “I remember.”

“Right,” you say. “Well – okay, wait, no. That’s a bad start. He didn’t do anything either.”

“I mean…”

“Not the time.”

He lifts his free hand up in surrender and gestures for you to continue as he slurps his food into his mouth. You clear your throat, bouncing one leg so rapidly that the decorative candle holder on your mantelpiece starts to rattle. 

“So… it was before the date. I was on my way to the bar, walking down past-... that convenient store. You know the one Chan keeps going into ‘cause he’s got the hots for the person who works there on a Friday night? Yeah, I was walking down that way. Actually running on time for once, and-...” 

You falter, sucking a breath deep into your lungs. It causes your next words to come out more strained than they ought to. 

“I ran into Jaehyun...”

Seungkwan swallows just in time to prevent himself from choking on his mouthful of food, but his eyes still shoot wide and you think his chest convulses a little bit anyway. His is a name you haven’t mentioned in a while, but he clearly hasn’t forgotten who it belongs to.

Because, well… how could he ever forget? 

Your ex-partner. Jaehyun.

The ex-love-of-your-life, Jaehyun.

The man who asked you to marry him after three and a half years of dating only to leave you, heartbroken and alone, six months later because he wanted to travel the world and there was too much that you couldn’t bring yourself to leave behind, Jaehyun. 

How could Seungkwan forget when he had been one of the people who helped drag you through what was not only the worst break-up, but one of the worst times of your entire life? 

Aside from the other week, it’s been… nearly eighteen months since you saw him last. Almost a year since you let yourself talk about him. Even sitting in your own apartment with a box full of your favourite food in your hands, a sense of dread chills you from head to toe just going so far as to say his name. But you’ve started, now, so you might as well finish.

“…right outside that stupid fucking store.”

Your voice cracks when you say it and you hurry to set your dinner down on the floor to free up your shaking hands. You cup them over your mouth, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. It helps enough for you to be able to continue, even if you still feel a bit like you’re drowning.

“I thought he…” Seungkwan starts, putting his own food down and slipping off the couch. He comes to sit on the arm of your chair and puts a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “When did-...?”

“Yeah, uh… apparently he moved back a couple weeks ago,” you swallow, leaning into your friend’s embrace. 

Seungkwan looks down at you and you look up at him, all misty-eyed and drained. There’s more. He knows there is, but now he waits for you patiently, giving you all the time in the world to get through this and to let it out and to lean on him. He doesn’t butt in. The quiet feels worse than the talking. 

“He’s with someone now. They, uh— they met in Paris. Just over a year ago.”

Seungkwan finally dares to make a noise and breathes out heavily, so loud that it’s almost a groan. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, tightening his hold around you. “Shit – I’m so sorry,”

You shrug, staring across the room to where your record player sits on top of a low cabinet, lid open, table collecting dust. 

“For months, I sat here feeling… fucking, sorry for myself,” you say, barely above a whisper. You swallow around the lump in your throat and shake your head. “This whole time, refusing to get back on the horse ‘cause I thought maybe-... but he was-…”

The room goes quiet again as you lose the words you want to say and Seungkwan just rubs small circles against your arm. The problem is that you know this doesn’t explain why you called out of work today. It doesn’t explain what happened last night, and you’re not sure where to begin with that either. Especially seeing as the last time your best friends saw you and Vernon, the sparks flying between you were nigh-on visible. 

“I thought I was handling it, you know?” You sigh, leaning harder into Seungkwan’s soft sweatshirt. “Like… yeah — it hurt… but I was okay? I guess. And then Vernon fucking… kissed me last night—“

“He— what?”

“Hang on — no, he… I wanted him to.” You fumble with a thread hanging off the sleeve of your t-shirt as you talk. Why is this all so difficult? At the same time, why does it feel so juvenile to say out loud? “I just… I don’t know…”

Your wall clock tick, tick, ticks away in yet another painful fall of silence. 

“How bad was he?” Seungkwan asks when you struggle to elaborate. 

You assume this is an attempt to shatter the gloomy atmosphere and lighten your mood a tiny bit; it works, you suppose, because despite yourself, you laugh drily. Not without nudging your shoulder into his ribs, though. He deserves it, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that it does make you feel a little better.

“He wasn’t,” you groan. “Don’t—… you’re such an ass.” 

He pulls himself away from you at the sound of your laughter and moves to sit on the edge of your coffee table instead, careful not to disrupt any of your food while keeping himself close enough to you that he can hold both of your hands in his and soothe his thumbs over your palms.

“You freaked out on him, didn’t you?” 

He sees straight through you and truthfully, no part of you is surprised. No part of you tries to fight it, or reject his assumption, or even question why that’s the first explanation he leapt to. You just nod, looking to where your best friend’s fingers are currently the only things holding you together. 

“Ran out his apartment like the building was gonna burn down,” you sigh, still laughing but harshly now. He squeezes your hands gently, urging you to look up at him. You do, slowly. “It’s ruined everything.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Seungkwan tries, narrowing his eyes at you when you scoff your obvious disagreement. “No, seriously. Anyone can see the poor guy’s got it bad for you.”

“Even if that’s right, you didn’t see his face,” you say. “God, he isn’t gonna wanna look at me ever again.”

“Have you spoken to him today?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe if you explain what happened–”

“Oh, sure,” you snort. “‘Hey, Vernon. Sorry for running out on you like a lunatic yesterday. I ran into my ex recently and when you kissed me, it reminded me of being with him and I got freaked out and had to dash. Hope you don’t mind.’ God.” 

You try to draw your hands back but Seungkwan just holds onto you tighter. “We’ll workshop it,” he says firmly. “Do you like him, or not?”

“Seungkwan–”

“That wasn’t an option.”

You scowl at him. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes,” you stress finally, groaning through it. “Yes – I do.”

Seungkwan’s face lights up for a second, his eyes sparkling, lips lifting. You’re half expecting him to say ‘I knew it’. Half expecting him to try and be all deep and philosophical and a little bit motherly, as he sometimes does, especially when you’re upset. He’s always been a sucker for a happy ending. But this isn’t a happy ending, you remind yourself, squaring your jaw. It’s past that, already. It isn’t going to happen, you just know it. 

“Stop being so fucking hard on yourself,” he tells you, squeezing your hands one last time before he lets go and moves back over to the couch so he can finish eating before his food goes cold. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”

You’re not sure what’s in the air right now, but this has been one of the busiest weekends that you can remember. Both yesterday and today, almost as soon as the store opened, your first handful of customers came through. Apart from about an hour around lunchtime, you don’t think there have been any periods of time where you’ve not had someone milling around the shelves. It makes a nice change, really, from some of your weekend shifts – hours at a time where the dust starts to settle and hardly anyone disturbs the bell above the front door. But this means you’ve been in full customer-service mode basically all day, and you’re starting to feel exhausted from keeping up the persona.

Still. There’s only an hour or so left — you can push through, and when you get home, there’ll be a nice, hot bubble bath with your name written all over it.

The bell chimes again just as you finish serving a group of teenage girls. You watch them scurry away, excitedly giggling about their new albums and you look towards the door with a smile already plastered on, all ready to greet the new customer until your eyes lock with theirs.

A ‘hey, how’s it going?’ stops somewhere midway up your throat, a pathetic little ‘huh?’ sound escaping you in its place. You’re frozen all of a sudden; you and the man who just came in both stand perfectly still, staring at each other like a pair of bunnies in headlights. It takes you forever to register the strap wrapped around his fist, the purse that hangs just below his grip. My bag, you think to yourself, but the voice that narrates your thoughts is hushed for the first time ever, too. Everything in your head gets sucked away into a little vacuum. The only thing left is him.

“I-… thought you might want this back.” Vernon breaks the quiet first. Your throat runs dry. In a flash, the noise in your brain is as loud as it’s ever been and in amongst all the chaos of thoughts and questions and apologies, you can’t pick out the words you actually want to say. 

He slowly unravels the strap from around his hand and takes a few steps closer to you, inching towards the counter. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he hurries to assure you. Your heart aches for how reserved and nervous he looks. It doesn’t suit him. You hate it. “It’s okay. I’m… really sorry, about the other night. I didn’t mean to—” A deep breath. “I’ll see you around.”

Vernon lays your bag so delicately on the wooden surface that you could be forgiven for thinking he was handling an explosive. Then, he takes one, two, three steps back, before turning and heading to the exit.  

“Wait—” you call out to him, finding your voice at the most critical time, right as his fingers curl around the door handle. “Wait—, please.”

He spins back around to face you as you slip out from behind the desk. His left brow lifts higher than the right but otherwise, he gives nothing away. He doesn’t even say anything as he stands there, pushing his hands deep into his pockets. 

You swallow around the golf ball sized lump taking residence in your throat and clasp your hands together in front of you, wringing and twisting and accidentally popping one of your knuckles in the process. “I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

Vernon chews this over in his mind but ultimately just shrugs his shoulders at you. What is there to say? He surely agrees, but he seems so adamant to ensure you don’t feel bad about it happening that he just… says nothing. Again. It’s kind of maddening, even if you fully get why. 

“No, I mean it,” you try again. “It wasn’t you. It’s nothing you did.”

“We really don’t have to do the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing,” Vernon offers, his cardboard-like posture softening. There’s even a little bit of a smile on his face, you think — but it’s not the kind of smile you’ve grown used to seeing on him. It doesn’t reach his eyes; he looks kind of like someone who has read their cards and accepted their fate. “Seriously. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” you stress, stepping closer to him again. You sigh deeply. There’s something almost relieving about the position you find yourself in. You suppose this really is crunch time; it’s now or never. “Can we… talk? About everything?”

“What? Here?” Vernon asks. 

You glance around the store, at the few people doing a very poor job of pretending to be minding their own business, and frown. He’s right. This isn’t the time, or the place. The problem is, you have a feeling that if you send him away, he may not decide to come back and listen to you. In his defence, why should he? He’s already done more than the decent thing and brought you back that which you abandoned in his apartment; several of your previous conquests would have shoved the bag and its contents either in the trash or the back of a closet somewhere. This is more than you could have hoped for. 

You hold a finger up to him and ask him to stay where he is, and though he looks a little bewildered at the gesture, he ultimately doesn’t move. You rush off out the back to the storeroom where you banished Chan an hour ago, on account of his raging hangover and your low tolerance for his whining about it; you’re genuinely surprised to find him working, and actually alphabetising the records you got in a few days ago like you asked him to.

“Hey. Can you do me a huge favour?” You ask, not announcing your arrival and subsequently scaring Chan out of his skin. He jolts as he hears your voice and claps a hand to his chest, exhaling hard. You don’t entertain his dramatics, though. There’s no time. “I need you to close today.”

“Huh?” He asks, still acting as if he’s trying to catch his breath. “I thought–”

“Please.” You wave him off, knowing he’s about to ask about the task you gave him. “We can look at this together tomorrow. You did great. It’s just an hour – is that okay?”

He chews the inside of his lip, almost looking disappointed. To be fair to him, he did look like he was in a groove when you appeared, but he doesn’t argue with you as he puts down the record in his hand and picks his phone up off the table to his right, silencing the catchy tune that was playing while he organised. 

“Of course it is,” he says, holding his hand out for your keys and starting to walk towards you. “Everything okay?”

“It-...” you start, faltering as you place the store keys in his waiting palm. Your default response was about to be ‘it’s fine’, but you’re trying harder these days to stop pretending, especially around him. So you swallow, nodding your head, flashing him a tight lipped smile. “I’m about to find out.”

“Oh? Is it…?”

A brief pause later, not before cringing at how predictable you’ve apparently become, you say, “yeah.”

Chan claps you on the shoulder as he skirts his way around you, leaning in to give you a sort of side-along hug on his way. You stretch your arm across his waist and pull him closer for a moment, trying to drive home how much you appreciate this. He doesn’t comment on the uncharacteristic display of affection, and you want to find out why, but Vernon isn’t going to wait around for you forever. 

“Go get him, tiger,” Chan whispers.

“I owe you, big time,” you promise. 

He winks at you before he disappears through the door and you follow him briefly, but as he does a round of checking in with your customers and making sure they don’t need any help, you hurry off to grab your jacket from the office.

Vernon is exactly where you left him when you come back out into the storefront, hands unmoved from where he stuffed them into his pockets earlier, rocking back and forth on his toes and looking around from wall to wall. You think perhaps he took your request slightly too literally and the fact that even his feet are in the same position as before you left is reminiscent of a puppy commanded to stay, but if anyone here is at liberty to start poking fun, you think that it certainly isn’t you. Instead of trying your luck, you lock the office door and walk up to him, returning his polite, yet slightly awkward smile.

“You’re not, like, super busy right now or anything, are you?” You ask him. 

His brows crease and his eyes shift side-to-side before they land back at you. He shakes his head.

“Did you maybe wanna… take a walk?” 

Vernon nods this time, still not moving or even pulling his hands out of his jeans. His elbows are locked out and the length of his arms means his shoulders are raised quite some way. He could not be more uncomfortable looking if he tried, but he doesn’t say no and nothing on his face gives away that he wants to reject your proposition, either, so you’re the one to take that tentative first step towards the door. When you do, he follows. 

You left the store at least ninety seconds ago and still, neither of you have said anything yet. Honestly, it’s taking all you’ve got not to just burst and let it all out; it’s building and building and your stomach feels tight, but it’s less of a knot and more like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes are dipped to the ground, incredibly aware of every step he takes, in what you realise now are a gorgeous pair of platform boots tucked up beneath his baggy jeans. He’s at least an inch and a half taller than the last time you saw him. 

“Your friend,” Vernon starts finally, pausing before he continues.  “Is he always so… you know?”

“What did he say?” You ask, peeking over to him. Trust Chan to start getting —

He hurries to shake his head. “Nothing. He just… kept looking at me. In a weird way, like…”

“Like he knows something you don’t, and he’s not gonna tell you, but he wants you to know that he knows it anyway?” You supply.

“Yeah— exactly like that.”

“Mm. That’s just… Chan.”

“Huh.”

“It’s worse when they’re together,” you say. He breathes out a chuckle and you feel his elbow bump into your upper arm. The distance he put between you when you fell into step outside the store has reduced, you realise now; you’re not sure when, or if it was on purpose. Did he move closer once you started speaking? Was it just so he could hear you better? Or…

Either way, despite being side-by-side, he still feels a hundred miles away from you. This isn’t enough.

“You get used to them, though,” you add, trying to stay on track. “I swear.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Jokes aside, he still won’t look at you for longer than a few seconds, which tugs at something deep in your chest. Discomfort clings to you, and even if it does seem like you’re making some progress, you can still feel unease radiating off him. A cheap laugh at the expense of your friends who aren’t here to defend themselves won’t fix that which you took a wrecking ball to a few nights ago. This needs to be heartfelt and genuine, and more importantly it needs to come out right. 

But when you open your mouth to speak, still searching your brain for the right way to explain why you acted the way you did, there’s nothing. 

How wonderful would it be for the perfect explanation to just tumble from your lips calmly and evenly, and for it to make everything okay? But the reality is that your throat runs dry as petrol fumes make their way through your parted lips. You hold your tongue again just a second later, sighing quietly. 

You’re starting to feel like a lost cause when Vernon breaks the silence for you, again. He slows his steps to a halt when he eventually says, “so.”

“So,” you repeat, freezing mid-stride as you go completely tense. It’s like you’re staring into oblivion’s wide open mouth. “I-… don’t really know where to start. I’m sorry.”

“The beginning’s usually pretty good?” He offers.

You nod. “How much did you want to know?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with telling me.”

If anyone on this Earth deserves a medal for their patience, it’s Vernon. You still haven’t turned to face him yet, your eyes fixated on the traffic signal some fifty yards away from you and you’re pretty sure if someone poked you too hard, you’d shatter into a million tiny pieces. But, as impossible as it seems all the while you try to get your thoughts in a reasonable order, you manage to swallow your nerves. 

It’s crunch time. It’s now or never.

The explanation you give him is messy. Disjointed. But once you start, it becomes difficult to stop: you end up sparing very little detail and circle back on yourself no less than three times. You tell him about how you were engaged and about the breakup, the run-in, your shitty date, gesturing with your hands to emphasise the most important parts. When you start to move again, Vernon makes his steps bigger until he’s walking alongside you. He never interrupts you. He acknowledges every sentence when you pause for breath. Encourages you to keep going when you fall over your words. 

“… and—... I guess I just lost my head. But it wasn’t your fault.” You swallow hard before you continue, “I’m… really sorry.”

He nods slowly, taking his time to digest everything.

“Don’t be,” he says, lightly bumping into your side. It’s a very small reassurance that he’s not going to walk away, but it means much more to you than you’re sure he meant it to. “I get it.”

“I—”

“No, like. I get it.” 

“Yeah?” You ask, only understanding when you catch the very pointed look in his eyes. 

“For sure.”

Of course, it makes sense. Vernon’s young. Attractive. Nice. Talented. He must have been with people before. Hell, you think he surely leaves a trail of broken hearts everywhere he goes. He gets it. 

“We dated for like… five? Years. Her name was Nari,” he tells you. 

A few seconds later, you watch him start to shrug off his jacket on one side and expose one of his toned arms to you. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t need to air his dirty laundry out if he doesn’t want to when he twists at his elbow; you catch sight of a tattoo you remember having seen the night he wore that black singlet on stage. Two lily flowers blooming up the inside of his bicep. 

It’s so pretty. Intricate. The line work is beautiful, the petals shaded with hundreds of little dots. You wanted to ask about it that night, but you never found the right chance, and now—

Lily?

It takes you longer than you’re willing to admit to join the dots, but when the penny finally drops, so does your jaw. Vernon slides back into his sleeve with a big, entertained smile and a little shrug. 

“Mhm.”

“Oh my God?”

“I know.”

It’s not that you’re laughing, per se. This isn’t your baggage to laugh at, no matter how unbothered Vernon seems to be by what he’s just revealed. But you do rub your hand over your face and cover your lips, shaking your head in disbelief as a breath that contains the edges of a bemused chuckle escapes you. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind; if anything, it appears to give him a boost to keep talking.

“I got that on our third anniversary,” he goes on to explain. “A couple years later… She called it quits. Turns out there was another guy. I thought about lasering it, but… apparently that hurts worse than getting the tattoo in the first place, so…”

“That’s…”

“It’s whatever,” Vernon says, shaking his head. “They’re my mom’s favourite flowers too. That’s what almost everyone else thinks it’s for.”

You haven’t looked back up at his face since the unveiling, not until now. When your eyes meet again, Vernon tilts his head in the direction you’re walking and continues down the street, spinning now so he’s walking backwards but still facing you. “I just mean... It’s okay. I get it.”

The moment you’ve caught up to him and you’re back by his side, he turns to face front, just in time to avoid a collision with a streetlamp. The lingering awkwardness starts to fade to nothing; you can see it in the way he holds himself, and you can feel it in the way you do, too. Everything relaxes. Your neck, your shoulders, your fists. It all ebbs away. 

“It really wasn’t anything you did,” you clarify once more. 

“So you keep telling me,” Vernon quips, tips of his ears turning pinker by the moment. “It’s okay, I swear. Do you want me to walk you home?”

You accept his offer and lead him down a side-street, picking up a completely unrelated conversation now to purify the air. Before you really know it (what was that everyone always said about time flying?), you come to a stop outside your building. Vernon’s sentence fades away when you stop moving; instead he stills, glancing sideways, and you nod confirmation at him with a lopsided smile. 

“This is me,” you say, reaching into your back pocket for your keys. “So…”

“So,” Vernon echoes, glancing around again. “Can I like, lay my cards out, real quick?”

You nod. 

“I like you.” He shrugs, now toying with the leather bracelet around his wrist. “Like, a lot. But…”

But. You feel like you should have seen this coming. But. But. Of course there’s a— 

“I’ve got some shows coming up out of town and I need to see some family, I’m not gonna be here from tomorrow for like, three weeks...”

Oh. 

Well. On one hand, it’s not what you thought. It’s not a flat-out rejection. It’s not a shut down. On the other? You bite the inside of your cheek and look at your hands, playing with your keys to keep them busy. Under any other lens, three weeks isn’t really a very long time at all. You’re pretty sure that the milk you bought yesterday is going to last longer than that. But three weeks… this early into things? 

That’s longer than you’ve even known him.  

“… and I thought, if you wanted — I could… take you out. When I get back. For real. Maybe.”

Oh.

“Like…?”

“Like… on a date,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. “One where I’m not like… fresh off stage and all gross and shit.”

Relief replaces anxiety on both his face and yours when you let out a quiet laugh. 

“I’d really like that,” you say, twitching fingers suddenly still. “Yeah.”

“I’m not asking you to like, wait around, or anything,” he says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, fumbles with it, and just barely manages to soften the fall with the toe of his boot before it lands screen-up on the concrete. “We’ll just see how it goes. And it gives you some time to… deal with things. Whatever you’ve gotta do.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest as he bends low to pick his phone back up, smoothing his thumb over the small scuff on the protective case. It seems remarkably undamaged otherwise. 

“And if you’re still interested, then…”

“Interested?” You ask with a small grin. 

“Aren’t you?” Vernon asks.

“I—...” You think about playing coy, but when he’s been so open with you about where his head’s at, it feels so silly and childish to bother pretending. That playful ‘I might be’ gets swallowed back. Instead – “Yeah. I am.”

“Cool. Then we’ll figure it out. At your pace, okay?” 

“Okay.”

He grabs his earphones out of his other pocket, slides one in, and is about to step back away from you when you do something you don’t really expect yourself to. Something you’ve never done to a man you can barely even say you’re ‘seeing’. You close the space between you and, as if to lock in your words, push forward onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” you say when you fall back down to your heels. If he wasn’t so dumbstruck, you feel like he’d be about to ask what you were thanking him for; as it stands though, he’s frozen, blushing, and the only reason you can tell he’s still alive is because he can’t stop blinking at you. “For… giving me another chance.”

He still can’t quite find his voice, so Vernon just shakes his head, clearing his throat. (No need, he wants to say.) Alas, his lips just open and close soundlessly.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you supply for him. He takes in a deep, mind-clearing breath and nods his head.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

You see the apples of his cheeks lift as he presses his thumb against his phone screen and restarts whatever song he was listening to when he walked into your store. A brilliant smile consumes his face. It only grows as he turns away from you and walks off down the street. 

For a second, you think it’s all very smooth. Movie-like, even.

Then, he stumbles over a crack in the pavement. When he glances back to pray you didn’t watch it happen, he catches you snickering into your fist. He shakes his head and continues on, leaving you to fumble with your key in the lock before you finally let yourself inside.

You overslept. 

Sort of. You heard your alarm go off straight away but you might have snoozed it, and when you heard it sound for a second time, you turned it off completely, telling yourself that you just needed one more minute. You just wanted to rest your eyes for a few more seconds. There wasn’t any danger of you going back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, you practically fell off your mattress in a panic when you realised that there had, in fact, been a big fucking danger. 

You were still able to wash up well and make it to work on time, but you had to sacrifice your morning coffee stop after seeing that the queue at the register was going to take too long. For years, you’ve refused to consider yourself to be the kind of person who relies heavily on a caffeine kick first thing in the morning, but today? It’s barely ten thirty and you’re seriously flagging: like you’ve never known what energy is, like you’ll never feel it again. 

(You blame the fact that when you first looked at your phone today before rolling back over, there was no ‘good morning :)’ text to entice you out of bed. But you’re trying really hard not to think about why that is, nor why it was such a deciding factor.)

So, when the bell above your shop door jingles and you’re forced to stand upright (a change your back doesn’t thank you for when it has to readjust from the previous hunched position you had adopted over the countertop), you groan quietly. Nonetheless, your tired eyes crease at the corners as you smile at whoever it is that’s come across the threshold.

After a second, your eyes refocus; when you can finally make out their features, it’s as if someone gives you a shot of adrenaline.

“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, brushing your hair back and moving to stand up fully unsupported. “I thought you weren’t back until Friday?”

“Change of plans,” Vernon grins, scratching the back of his neck. “We drove through the night. I got home like… an hour ago.”

This is the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed down, and hell, does he look incredible. Gone are the ripped jeans, scuffed boots, the leather jackets and chunky rings. Grey sweatpants and an oversized white hoodie (alternatively: the brightest outfit you’ve witnessed him in thus far) drown him, blurring out his usually so distinct frame. You pin both of these things as the reasons you hardly recognised him when your eyes were refusing to cooperate. Paired with what Seungkwan would call ‘dad-sneakers’ and completed by messy hair and tired, soft eyes?

If you could jump his bones right here, right now… God, you would. 

“But hey, it’s nice to see you, too,” he adds facetiously.

“Quiet down,” you groan, fighting the urge to run over and envelop him in a hug. You’re not sure that he’d mind if you did, but you also don’t quite know if you’re ‘there’, yet. “Obviously it’s good to-...”

His arms, both of which have been stuck behind his back since he arrived, now move around to the front, revealing to you a takeout cup and a little brown box from the coffee shop down the street. 

“Oh, shit. It is so good to see you.”

Vernon laughs, coming closer until he can set them both down on the counter. “If it’s wrong, Seungkwan gave me your order, so.”

You start to wonder how on Earth your employee and your… Vernon managed to have this conversation without you knowing. Does Seungkwan have his number? Did they happen across each other on one of their socials? Did Vernon call into the store while you were out in the bathroom a little while ago and ask? But whatever happened, you quickly stop caring to find out: popping the lid off your cup, the aroma of your favourite coffee immediately fills your senses. It’s so overwhelming that you think you might start to cry.

“Oh my God. You’re the best,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around the cup and taking a long sip, eyes rolling back into your head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vernon laughs, rolling up his sleeves before folding his toned forearms over his chest. “I got you a-... okay, they only had those gluten free brownies in, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know if they taste the same as the normal ones but… like, he said you hadn’t eaten today and I know you said you liked brownies before, — if you don’t like those ones, it’s okay! I can go back, it’s–”

He trails off, cheeks turning pink when you tilt your head to one side and feel your brow go soft. He asks, “why… are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so cute,” you say, putting the cup down gently so as not to splash your drink all over the counter. 

“Huh?”

“You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Vernon says, shaking his head. 

You almost definitely hear a floorboard creak and quiet shushing sound from just around the corner towards the back room. You don’t call out your eavesdropping friends for trying to listen in on your conversation, though: it barely even crosses your mind. Besides... you can’t take your eyes off Vernon, even if you wanted to. He looks so soft. Like he needs to sleep for a whole twenty four hours, and he must feel like it too, but he came here first. 

“So,” he starts, tapping his right thumb against the inside of his left elbow. (The reason why he came so quickly starts to become evident. He just couldn’t wait to ask.) “You don’t have to commit to anything right now…” The silver of one of his rings glints with every tiny movement. “…but, I was just wondering–”

Smiling at him over the top of your coffee cup, it feels like your heart could burst.

“I was just… wondering… if you’d thought any more about letting me take you out?”

You’ve been texting him almost every day since he left. He’s sent you a hundred and one pictures of statues and cool buildings and nice looking food and the sky, and far more animals than you think you’ve ever actually seen in real life. You’ve spoken to him about your strange customers. What’s going on with your friends. Sent him recommendations for songs that you discovered on obscure albums that you pulled out to play over the speakers. 

One night after one of his shows, he called you. He was a little bit drunk at the time, chilling in his hotel room with a pizza as he informed you that he’d snuck out of an after-party super early but couldn’t get to sleep. With an audible pout, he went on to confess that he was feeling kind of lonely, that he just wanted to hear your voice: one thing led to another and you stayed up talking to him until he passed out at nearly 4 o’clock in the morning.

To put it simply… 

“I’d still really like that,” you say. It’s incredible to you that you can see every one of his features brighten up. 

“Okay,” he breathes, unwinding his arms and pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants now instead. “Okay, cool. I’ll… text you later? We’ll figure something out?”

“All right,” you agree. “Now go rest up, okay?”

He laughs as he swears that he’ll go back home and get some sleep, and with that, Vernon takes his leave. You’re once again alone, but this time you have a drink that could only hope to make you feel as energised as he does, and a treat nowhere near as sweet as him. 

You aren’t complaining, though, and neither are the two men that miraculously reappear the moment the door closes again. 

The smile Vernon leaves on your face doesn’t falter for the rest of your day.

You suppose a big part of the reason you haven’t dated anyone in a while is because you can’t stand the ‘talking stage’. That weird little limbo where you’re never sure if it’s too early to make certain jokes, where you’re checking and second-guessing all your texts, where you can’t figure out if someone’s really into you or if they’re just blowing up your phone to pass the time. The awkward small talk. The ‘getting to know each other’ part. The ‘why haven’t they replied yet — was it something I said?’ anxiety. 

Thankfully, with Vernon, that’s not really something you have to worry about. 

While he was away, you learned that he’s the kind of guy who just spews random facts at you in the middle of his day and then forgets to check his messages for three hours. Sometimes those facts are interesting things about himself. Other times, you’ve known him to shoot you a text just to announce [ just found out tigers have striped skin as well as fur. wild ].

(On one such occasion, Chan caught you giggling at your phone in the middle of a quiet Thursday afternoon, zooming in on a picture of Vernon’s heart shaped birthmark. This put a swift end to checking your messages while you’re at work.)

[ btw, im allergic to peanuts ], he told you one evening. Completely unprompted, just after dinner time. You spilled half of your glass of juice down your front in panic when you put two and two together and scrambled to ask him if he was okay. [ near miss, dw about it! just felt important haha ], he replied, and your response was just a picture of your newly stained t-shirt and a request for him to never do that to you again. 

He can drive — at least, he has his licence — but he doesn’t have a car. He chooses public transport, and he tells you that it’s because he likes not having to worry about fuel prices and it’s ‘healing’ to zone out of reality on the train until he reaches his stop. He tells you that he came up with the melody and two verses of one of his favourite original songs on the bus to his parents house, and one time, he dropped a giant cockroach on a class field trip to the zoo because it tickled when it crawled over his palm and he didn’t like it. 

(You later discovered that this piece of information was triggered by the appearance of a large bug in his shower.)

Last night, as you settled into bed after a whole evening of back and forth, he told you that he has all five of the top scores at the piano game in the arcade downtown, and that he has an approximate 75% success rate on claw machines. When you replied saying you hadn’t been to an arcade in about two years, he was horrified. Enough to send 7 broken heart emojis back to back, as individual messages. [ shakespeare himself couldnt write a tragedy that sad ], he said. 

But, harrowed as he was by your admission, it did give him an idea. 

That idea is exactly how you end up standing side-by-side at a basketball shootout game on Friday night. It’s how he ends up winning one of those cute reversible octopuses — true enough, on a claw machine — which he gives to you immediately. It’s how you watch him hunch over a pinball machine for twenty five minutes before he loses his ball, how you end up tied after four games of air hockey, at which point he calls it quits while citing a ‘cramping hand’.

It’s also how you deliver his ass to him in not one, but two rounds of bowling.

“All right — all right,” Vernon laughs, holding both his hands up in defeat as your final ball takes out all ten pins at the end of the alley. “You made your point. Damn.”

You shrug your shoulders as you walk back in his direction, picking up your glass from the table and sipping your soda through your straw. 

(Though the arcade has an entire menu of cocktails, some of which you’ve never even heard of, the thought of navigating an evening alone with him under the influence of alcohol was totally unappealing after last time. Thankfully, Vernon agreed. You quietly think that being stone cold sober has made tonight even more enjoyable.)

“I told you,” you say when you finally sit down. He puts an arm around your shoulders straight away. Naturally, like it’s instinct. Like it’s a position he’s adopted a few hundred times before. “I’m undefeated.”

“We’ll see,” he says, tapping out a rhythm on the ball of your shoulder. “I still think you just got lucky.”

“So,” Vernon says once your leisurely stroll back lands you outside his place, kicking the toe of his left sneaker into the concrete. “What… are the chances that I get a do-over?”

You blink at him a few times, tilting your head. “What do you mean, a do-over?” 

Does he not think this went well? Gods, it’s probably the best first date you’ve ever had, but what on Earth else could he mean by that? Did you say something earlier, and not realise? Has he not had fun? What does he m–

“I got these new coffee beans,” he says. “While I was away — and I figured something out with the-… the machine? So— ”

Ah. There he is.

You smirk at him, patting the outside of his bicep and rolling your eyes. When you glance down, Vernon is pulling out his key, thumbing over the ridges down the one side. He reaches for the door, happy to take your teasing as confirmation that yes, you’ll come up. Yes, he gets his ‘do-over’...

…but leave it to you to fall for the world’s dorkiest rockstar. 

As he slips the key into his apartment door, there’s a steady pressure against the small of your back: the same one that’s been there ever since he gestured for you to step out of the elevator before him. One of his palms rests over the fabric of your t-shirt and you feel weirdly tingly because of it. He gently guides you inside once the door falls open and doesn’t move away when it’s locked again behind him. 

With an anticipatory shiver, you turn around to face him. You make a point to leave just a matter of inches between your chests. To have your eyes soft, patiently waiting.

Vernon’s hands are - for the first time ever - cold when his fingers hesitantly come up to either side of your face, tilting your head up so that he can see you better, unobstructed by any shadows. You gasp at the contrast between them and your flushed, warm cheeks. He swallows thickly at the sound.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, gaze darting between the space separating your eyes from your lips. “We can slow it down, if you want. I just—...”

Your own hands find home against his chest in response, fingers curling into the muscle beneath them. Not harshly, definitely not so much that it could hurt — just enough that it makes him puff himself up a little bigger. Enough to make him square his shoulders as he drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth. 

“Vernon,” you say quietly, pressing him backwards. Balling his t-shirt into your fists, you send him stumbling over his own feet before his shoulders find the wood of the front door. A quiet grunt escapes him on impact, but he just holds you closer. “Shut up ‘n’ kiss me. Please.”

Clumsiness aside, the moment he obediently ducks his head and presses his smiling mouth to yours, you feel weightless. Even when you tilt forward onto your toes to meet him halfway, it’s as if you’re not even touching the ground anymore: clouds beneath your feet have you floating. Everything about it is so very different from the last time.

It’s so much easier. Not just for you, either – you can feel it from him as well. Your collective baggage has been left out in the hall, barricading the door, shutting out the hesitation and nervousness and leaving you together, wholly alone, to just… be.

Vernon gets increasingly more brave as the seconds tick by. When you separate for air, his head tilts the other way, lips a little parted, hot breaths fanning over your skin as he meets you again, and again, and again. It’s the perfect give and take. Firm one second, waiting for you to chase him the next. The soft sounds he starts to make are amplified as his tongue presses against your bottom lip: he tests the waters, groaning into the heat of your mouth when you so happily invite him into it. He drinks you up for all you’re worth. 

One of your hands uncurls from his chest and moves up to his head instead, threading into his hair at the top of his neck. It feels just as soft as it’s always looked, sliding through your fingers. A gentle pull makes him whine. He draws away from you. His lips are pink and shine with the gloss you touched up in the elevator’s mirror, his lids are heavy, his pupils blown, and looking up at him feels like staring into the sun; you physically can’t keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard to look away. 

You tuck yourself into his neck as a compromise, laying gentle pecks everywhere you can reach. His aftershave leaves a bitter taste on your tongue as you touch the tip to a stretch of skin just beneath the harsh cut of his jawline, but the way he shudders and drops his hold down to your waist makes the sting in the back of your mouth all worth it. You only stop when one of his hands sinks lower still and he squeezes at your ass, making your eyes roll back.

He mistakes your surprise for hesitation, though.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, tipping his head back and pressing his crown into the door. Though he doesn’t withdraw his palm from your backside, he also doesn’t pinch at you again. You press your hips backwards, pushing into his touch to encourage him, with this green light he starts to knead at your cheek over the top of your skirt.

“You have no idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself around you, do you?” You say, slipping one up the hem of his t-shirt as if to prove your point, splaying your fingers out over his stomach. 

He takes a shallow breath, hovering with it in his lungs, holding back from saying something. You get there before he can.

“I want you,” you say certainly, pulling back from where you’ve been nestled into his shoulder so that you can look him in the eyes again. He releases that breath and his face flushes when his eyes find yours, moving both of his hands back up to your waist, tightly gripping at you as if his life depends on it as he nods. 

“I just… I really don’t wanna mess this up,” he adds quietly. “I—”

When you kiss him again, hoping to further assure that you’re just as into this as he is, he reciprocates, sure. You can tell straight away that there’s a little less bite though — a stiffness to him. He doesn’t relax into you the same way he did a few minutes ago. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, falling back onto your heels. Is this because of the way things went last time, or are you going too fast for him? Selfishly, you hadn’t considered that could be a barrier. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, you know that right? It’s okay.”

You make to step away from Vernon, unwinding your arms from around him to give him some space but he refuses to let you go too far. His hold on you is just as firm as ever.

“Trust me, I want to,” he says. “It’s just–...”

You stay silent, waiting for him to finish. He chews at his bottom lip, his blush deepening right in front of your eyes. To try and steady him, you lay one of your palms over each of his biceps, saying, “Whatever it is – it’s all right.”

“I just… haven’t been with anyone since…”

And when you laugh, it’s not at him (at least, not for the reason a fly on the wall might initially assume). You drop your forehead down onto the muscle of his chest, feeling his heart’s erratic rhythm underneath his clothes as you loop one arm back up around his neck.

“I thought you were about to tell me something awful,” you chide him through your giggles, lightly swatting at his shoulder. He starts to loosen up beneath you, his own body beginning to shake with laughter too. Those strong arms pull you flush against him, the gentle shift of his weight from one foot to another rocking you both side-to-side. “Like– like you were secretly married or you realised you didn’t actually like me, or something. Jesus.”

He stays quiet for another few seconds, but even without speaking, you can feel how he shakes his head above you. You look back up at his face and brush his hair out of his eyes, fingers lingering on his brow when you’re done.

“It’s okay,” you tell him for the third time. The last wisps of anxiety start to fade from his eyes, replaced with the same look he’s been wearing since he showed up at your apartment door earlier this evening. “I don’t care — I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”

The kiss that follows lands hard and with it, Vernon succeeds in wiping your brain empty. You can barely remember what you were even giggling about a few seconds later. 

“Don’t want you to go easy,” he insists against your lips. Then, he’s wallowing up your breathy sighs as he licks into your mouth again, pressing your tongue with his own, reminding you that he’s absolutely not incompetent, just rusty. 

When you make it into his bedroom, confessions and various articles of your clothing forgotten out in the hallway, you separate from each other long enough for you to be able to to lay one hand on his bare chest and push him down onto the mattress. He bounces on the foam and pushes up on one elbow, watching as you sink down to your knees and press kisses down his stomach while your hands deftly take care of the button on his jeans. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You say to him as he lifts his hips up and lets you pull both his jeans and his boxers down in one sharp movement. 

“M’not gonna want you to,” he laughs breathlessly, pushing a hand through his hair as he kicks the remainder of his clothes all the way off and nudges them away to the side. “But yeah. Okay.”

He looks so pretty like this and you can’t help but think he’s even prettier when the first time you curl your fingers around his length, his jaw falls slack and his fingers curl into the bedding underneath him. You drink him in and he watches you do it; your mouth is watering, desperate to feel him press down on your tongue, and you feel a pull towards him that you’ve never felt towards anyone before. 

“God,” you whisper, shuffling on your knees to get a little closer. 

“Okay?” Vernon asks. He tilts his head to the side and you nod up at him.

“Just… had a feeling you’d be…” you trail off, tugging a few times to feel its thickness in your fingers. Why are you mesmerised by it, a little? What the hell has gotten into you? “But it’s actually bigger, and—”

He laughs quietly and falls back onto the bed, crossing an arm over his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans. 

“Yes, sir.”

You lean towards him and gather saliva on your tongue, dragging it from base to tip before closing your lips around the head. He gasps softly and holds onto his next breath, angling his head back further; you give a satisfied hum and slide a little further down. 

The glide is made smoother by the spit your tongue left behind and that which mixes with his pre-cum in your mouth. As you start to bob up and down, some dribbles out past your lips so you start to move your hand, too, smearing the mess all over his cock. When it bumps the back of your throat — and on assessment, you realise there’s daylight between your lips and your fist — you squeeze your eyes closed and whimper softly, holding him in place while you adjust before you can take him deeper. 

“Fuck— just like that,” he gasps out in a shattered groan when you start to move a little more fluidly, no longer too intimidated by your gag reflex preventing him from slipping down your throat. Your hand and your mouth work in tandem to get him riled. Every sound he makes feels like someone injects lust straight into your veins. When you look up at him from between your dewy lashes, you ponder that you’d watch him fall apart from this angle a hundred times a night forever and still not get bored. 

Your jaw starts to ache from the thickness of having him in your mouth and the way he’s restraining himself from fucking his hips up to meet you tells you that he’s too polite to ask you for more. You suck harshly one last time before pulling away with a ‘pop’, using only your hand to pump his length as you shift down to gently suck one of his balls into your mouth. 

The sound he makes is so fucking melodic. You think he’s made a similar one before when he lifts into a falsetto, and you’ve never felt more powerful than you do right now. Knowing you have someone with such a commanding presence eating out of your palm could really do something dangerous to your ego. It’s a bit of a miracle, therefore, that you recognise his desperate tapping at your shoulder, but the second you feel it you settle back from him, looking up at his impossibly tense abs and his blissed-out face.

You catch on quickly and feel your features split into a grin at the realisation. When it takes him a second, you know it’s because he’s still trying to remember the mechanisms it takes to breathe. Bless his heart. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing himself to sit upright and running a hand through his hair. “It-… fuck, that was so…”

“What happened to ‘I don’t want you to go easy’ huh?” you tease, resting your chin on the top of his left thigh, grinning up at him. 

“I’m gonna come if you keep going like that,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief at himself. “And trust me — I want to, but…” He swallows hard. “Not yet.”

You nod slowly up at him, starting to get up off the floor. You stop in your tracks when he says, “I’ve gotta taste you first. Please.”

Maybe it speaks too much to the quality of some of your previous lovers, but his desperation takes you a bit by surprise. You blink at him, ignoring how your thighs burn with the position you’ve frozen in. 

“If— that’s okay?” He adds. “I’ve… been thinking about it? A lot. Especially since-”

“Shut up,” you breathe, finally standing all the way up. He shuffles back further onto the bed and you quickly move to straddle across his hips, one hand coming up to hold his jaw in place when you’re in place. “Of course it’s okay.”

You lean in for an impossibly needy kiss, only breaking away when you physically can’t breathe anymore. Vernon’s eyes flutter open at the same time as yours do and as you reach behind yourself with one hand to unclasp your bra, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.  

(He tells you that you are no fewer than three times before you fall asleep a few hours later.)

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated. there's approx a scene and a half left for part 3 and then we're all done with this baby! stay tuned for that, coming soon.<3 p.s. no i will not apologise to jaehyun, this is what he gets for making me feel insane. thanks !

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for August 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ I've been here for days by @justanothershadeofblue [E, 18k, OT5]

Somewhere in the desert, a man is called by God to raise up a righteous generation, to bring forth the kingdom from his own seed and the wombs of his omegas.

He will do it by any means necessary.

A series in six parts. Part 1 of Keep Holding Me This Way

＊ i'm going out tonight by @disgruntledkittenface [M, 3k, Harry/Louis]

Louis hasn’t been appreciating his boyfriend Harry. He only realizes it when Harry takes matters into his own hands. Inspired by Bejeweled by Taylor Swift.

＊ And I'm Okay (with what i'm not) by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [T, 6k, Louis/Harry]

“So, speaking of steamy scenes.” The interviewer, Harry had already forgotten his name again, gestured with his mod cards between Harry and his co-star, Sam. “With all the intimacy going on on-set, was there ever a time that continued… off-camera?” He winked at the camera.

OR 3 times people make assumptions about Harry's sex life and the 1 time he snaps

＊ Gotta Feeling by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Harry/Louis]

When Harry's life in Manchester isn't turning out the way he thought it would, he decides to visit his best friend in Mexico City. Maybe Niall can convince him to move halfway around the world.

＊ HOT TO GO! by @allwaswell16 [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

When Harry does something weird at the barricade, he leaves Louis’ show devastated and hoping he can somehow make things right.

Or the accidental pervert fic

＊ Let the Feeling Last by @allwaswell16 [T, 5k, Harry/Louis]

Omega Harry thinks the alpha at the grocery store buying a cart full of vegetables must be an amazing chef. He doesn't know that Alpha Louis is feeding all those vegetables to his pet pig.

＊ Stars over Amsterdam by @hellolovers13 [T, 4k, Louis/Harry]

Louis remembers how stressed they were, trying to get tickets at all. The waiting for the email with the code, which only Louis got, the actual On-sale. How Harry stood behind him, peeling at his nails nervously. Trying not to distract Louis.

But it had all gone smoothly and he had gotten the tickets within just a few minutes.

Harry had jumped around Louis’s chair in excitement like a bouncing ball. Already starting to plan their outfits.

A gold fringe dress for Harry, Fearless was his favourite album, after all, and a matching shirt he had found online for Louis. So people could tell right away they were an item.

That was their plan. Before it all went to shit.

or Fate in form of Eras Tour tickets forces Louis to meet up with his Ex.

Hopefully soon to be Ex-Ex.

＊ Stronger Than the Tide by @haztobegood [G, 3k, Harry & Louis]

The time Louis had spent talking with Harry in the cave had flown by. He was still unsure where the time had gone. Maybe it was because this was the first real connection Louis had made in years. Love and sex did not interest Louis, and it became harder to find good friends.

It was different with Harry. Their conversation flowed effortlessly without pressing for more. Despite the hours they spent together in the cave, Louis wanted to keep talking, to share more of himself, and to learn more about Harry. He hoped their paths would cross again soon.

＊ The Grundy County Drag Show Incident by @haztobegood [T, 3k, Zayn/Liam]

The instrumental opening of Beyoncé’s Halo filled the bar, and the crowd clapped in time to the beat. Holding a wireless mic in her gloved hand, Veronica Stardust owned the stage. She was one of the most vocally talented drag queens in the Midwest. Harry and Louis had seen this act a few times before and were always blown away at the power of her voice. Liam, however, was just experiencing it for the first time. He didn’t know what was yet to come. Part 2 of Grundy County Incidents

＊ Porcupine by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles [E, 82k, Louis/Harry]

Louis, a broke omega librarian, finds his quiet life in Vienna turned upside down when he meets a charming four-year-old boy named Venus, who insists that Louis is his "Mama." When Venus's father, Harry—a powerful and dangerous mafia leader—offers Louis a lucrative job as the boy's full-time nanny, Louis steps into a world where love and danger are deeply intertwined.

As Louis grows closer to Harry and Venus, he discovers the perilous secrets of Harry's underworld life. Their unexpected connection sparks a passionate romance, but with Harry's enemies closing in, Louis must navigate a treacherous path where his heart and life are at risk. This is a thrilling tale of love, danger, and the irresistible pull of two souls drawn together against all odds.

＊ Miracles At Sunsets by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles [T, 16k, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis are best friends bound by years of shared memories, but their relationship is complicated by a tangle of unspoken emotions. Harry, an Alpha, is deeply in love with Louis, an Omega, but fears revealing his true feelings might shatter the friendship they’ve built. When Harry decides it’s time to settle down and start a new chapter in his life, he turns to Louis, an interior designer, for help in finding the perfect home.

What begins as a light-hearted search for a house soon becomes a journey of self-discovery and emotional upheaval. As they explore potential homes, their bond is tested by the growing tension between what is said and what remains hidden. Can Harry find the courage to reveal his heart, or will their unspoken desires tear them apart?

＊ Symphony by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles [T, 4k, Louis/Harry]

In the peaceful countryside, Harry Styles is a hardworking farmer who’s all about keeping things running smoothly on his farm. But when a routine check on his crops leads to a nasty fall from his horse, Harry finds himself seriously injured. Determined not to worry his pregnant omega, Louis, he stubbornly drives himself to the hospital, knowing full well that Louis would be frantic if he found out.

Meanwhile, Louis gets a call that sends him into a panic—Harry’s in the hospital. Rushing to his side, Louis is a mix of anger and worry, not sure whether to scold Harry or hug him. As they reunite, the two navigate their emotions, and despite the scare, their bond only deepens, proving that together, they can handle anything life throws at them.

＊ Let Your Tears Fall (No I Won't Judge You) by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [E, 7k, Harry/Louis]

“I want to feel good," Harry says. "I want you to feel good. I just… I don’t know what that looks like.”Louis nods. “That’s fair,” he says. “Always a bit of a learning curve, figuring out what you like and what you don’t.” He rubs his chin. “What if we just… talk through it? Instead of doing it?”Harry blinks. “What do you mean?” he says. “I don’t – I just don’t know what-”“I know,” Louis says. “It’s okay.” He brushes his hand down Harry’s cheek, soft and gentle. “I can start,” he says. “Tell you about what I imagine us doing together. And anytime you feel like something isn’t right – you can stop me, and we can figure out a different path.”Harry nods slowly. “Okay,” he says. “I can try.”

Four times Harry cries during sex. And four times Louis is right there beside him, giving him all the comfort and support and validation he needs.

＊ Donatello by @jooles999 [M, 42k, Louis/Harry]

"GET OFF MY BUS!"

Louis neck bristled, he glared into the face of the man towering over him, his pupils black with unfiltered rage he opened his mouth ready to respond before hearing fast approaching footsteps from behind the curtain.

" Jeff, What's all the shouting about?"

Louis clamped his eyes shut gulping for air as a tightness gripped his chest.

No it can't be

Seconds felt like hours, he shivered as time stopped still. Louis opened up his now glistening eyes, he held his breath and bit tightly on his bottom lip trying to prepare himself for the moment he had so carefully avoided for 3 long years.

The curtain pulled back.

" Yes yes you have guessed right well done, it is indeed Harry Styles, you can close your gawping mouth now mate. Ill even be nice and give you a tour t-shirt, then you can get the hell off my fucking tour bus and back to...."

"L..Louis?"

Or One stormy night popstar Harry and accountant Louis are reunited after 3 long years apart. Harrys manager is dangerous and controlling can Louis save him before it's too late.

＊ I long for that feeling to not feel at all by @ineverateakiwi [NR, 2k, Harry/Louis]

When he is not around and Harry needs to feel more grounded, steady on his own feet, he thinks of Louis. It's probably not healthy to rely on someone this heavily, but it's better than nothing. It's what he has right now. And, right now, it's working. Is thinking about that feeling, the feeling of being real, being alive, that he whispers – without thinking – those two words. — "Hurt me."

Harry needs to feel something, even if it's pain. Louis gives what he needs.

- Fic Fests -

＊ 1D Aro/Ace Fic Fest / @1daroaceficfest [Masterpost]

A One Direction Fic Fest centred around all the identities on the aromantic and asexual spectrum

- Podfics -

＊ [Podfic] Write You A Song by by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings read by Panda_Podfics / @pandapodfics [G, Louis/Harry]

Harry’s new flat is great but the acoustics are even better. They’re so good in fact that his daily shower concerts start to entertain an audience besides his shampoo bottle.