#like yes I can wear my headphones but the point is that I shouldn’t have to wear them!!!!! in my own home!!!!

[onedirecton]

I’m going to move when my lease is up because I cannot staaaaand the music I can hear from my neighbours

[verdenz]

BLIND, DEAF, MUTE

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒⠀→⠀You're McLaren's reserve driver, and the social media team forced you, Lando and Oscar to do a challenge.

𝐀/𝐍⠀→⠀I'm a little surprised that I liked the result of this oneshot, since I'm not very good with very long content (this one isn't that big bUT STILL—)

“You should introduce yourselves, shouldn’t you?” was the first sentence spoken in the recording, coming from one of the team members.

You and Oscar just looked at each other before turning back to face Norris, who was on the other side of the counter, already wearing headphones and dancing quietly.

“Lando should be the mute one.” Oscar said, cutting a piece of tape that was handed to him and sticking it over his mouth.

“Agree.” you replied, trying to find the best way to tie the blindfold. “It saves the effort of those who will have to censor his jokes.”

“You can start.” they said, and as expected, Lando had to be pulled by Piastri to fit into the camera frame, as he didn’t hear what was said.

The confusion began when you, unable to see, started feeling around, knocking over a wooden spoon in the process. “Why are you all silent? I have no idea what’s going on!”

Oscar just made a muffled sound, forgetting for a second about the tape that prevented him from speaking. Realizing it had already started, Lando "gently" pushed you both aside, standing in the center and starting to show the ingredients.

“We’re going to make cookies because they don’t believe we can make something more complex!” he shouted, making you flinch at the sound, while your teammate just shook his head in denial.

Norris picked up a sealed package, reading aloud. “Do we start with this?” Lando asked. He saw Oscar raise a finger and try to reach for the bag of flour, but he smiled and threw it into your hands, resulting in part of the floor and your clothes turning white. “She has to do something too.”

Oscar took the package from your hands and placed it on the counter. He tried to explain with his hands that he wanted to see the recipe, but you couldn’t see, and Lando couldn’t understand what his teammate wanted. “Paper?”

He shook his head. “Stir the mixture?”

“What mixture, Lando? We haven’t even started yet,” you complained, as if he could hear you. “We should look at the recipe and start.” Then, you heard a sound of approval from Piastri.

After brief instructions from the team, you felt around the counter and picked up a package of sugar, believing you had the right ingredient, and started pouring a large amount into the bowl. Piastri, who couldn’t speak but could definitely see the disaster unfolding, gestured frantically, pointing to the bowl and trying to stop you.

Lando, who was closest to you, took the ingredient from your hands. “This is sugar!” he yelled in your ear, making you try to grab his hair to playfully pull but hitting his nose instead. He laughed and stepped back. “We need to melt the butter.” Norris said, this time in a normal tone but too close for your liking.

“I can hear you without you breathing in my ear.” you complained, trying to find the next ingredients. Oscar held your hand and handed you the pot with the melted butter, since while you and Norris were bickering, he was following the recipe.

“You need to add an egg.” You looked at Lando again.

“Whole?” He blinked, trying to understand what you were saying.

“One egg,” he repeated.

“Whole?!” You nodded, as confused as he was, and gestured with your hands.

“Yes, it’s one.” Oscar’s laughter was muffled by the tape again. He picked up the egg, showing it to Norris. “Break it and put it in the bowl.”

“Whole or not?! Oscar!” You waved your hands, trying to find him to help you, not knowing he was already doing so. He tried to speak.

The team gestured for you to stop, as for the next part of the recipe, they preferred you to switch positions. Piastri was the first to remove the tape and breathe a sigh of relief.

Finally, you took off the blindfold to see how well you were doing up to that point. When you opened your eyes, the scene you found was utter chaos: Lando laughing, Oscar with his arms crossed, and a counter with more flour and sugar than what was inside the container you were supposed to be using.

“Can we take a break?” you asked, already grabbing the headphones for yourself. “Who chose this playlist? Damn.”

The team signaled the start again, and before you could even take a deep breath, Lando was already messing with everything he saw in front of him. Unable to speak, he pointed frantically to different jars and ingredients, trying to guide you.

“This? This here?” you asked, randomly lifting a package of flour. Lando shook his head desperately, making exaggerated hand gestures to indicate what he meant.

Oscar, now blind, had no idea what he was supposed to do. “Shouldn’t we mix the dough?”

“You need to knead the cookies and put them on the tray.” you said, lightly pulling up the sleeves of your sweatshirt that threatened to cover your forearm again. Terrible choice of clothing for that type of activity.

Lando tried to speak, getting agitated once more. You looked at him, he pointed to the bag of chocolate chips, and you nodded, grabbing the package and pouring it into the dough.

Oscar put his hand on your wrist. “Wait, I think it should be less. Right? I can hear you pouring the whole package. We should use a measuring cup—”

“What is he saying?” you asked Norris, who only shrugged.

After a few more minutes and a bit more mess, you managed to get the cookies into the oven, and it was finally time to be free.

“You know, each of you has to be blind, deaf, and mute at least once during the challenge." a team member joked, and the three of you immediately showed your discontent.

As soon as the cookies were ready, you placed them on a nice plate to show to the camera.

“Who will be the first to try?” Piastri asked, running his hand through his hair.

“We count to three, and each of us takes a bite.” And so you did, but only Lando managed to break the cookie. “Why is it so...”

Oscar stared at his, while you stretched out your arm and hit the table with yours, which only crumbled a bit.

“My expectations were low, and I’m still disappointed.” you murmured.

[midnightfictionlibrary]

I Take Whatever I Want, I Want You - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader, Roy Kent x Fem!Reader

Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader, Roy Kent xFem!Reader

Part One || Part Two

Content : jealousy, dickish behavior, slight argument, kissing

Word Count : 2.7k

Summary : Roy is jealous of the relationship that you and Jamie share. You don’t think you could be any more attracted to Jamie, until the Man City match. 

A/N : finally able to get through that writer’s block and get this part out! I’m very excited and can’t wait to hear what you all think. As always, pls like and reblog if you enjoy! thank you to @oneeyedvisenya for giving me the request of reader lovingggggg Jamie being a dick

You walk through the doors of Richmond, hand in hand with Jamie Tartt, your boyfriend. You smiled to yourself. You liked the way that sounded, and you can tell Jamie does too, by the way he proudly struts down the hallway. As you reach the locker room door, Jamie makes a ginormous show out of tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, giving you a sweet but subtly sexy kiss. 

When he turns to his teammates and coaches as you disappear into the office adjoining Ted’s, he points at Roy and smirks. “Have you met my girlfriend?” Roy flares his nostrils but doesn’t say anything as Jamie takes his seat in front of his locker. Just the knowledge that he has gotten inside Roy’s head was enough for him. 

Meanwhile, Roy was slightly panicking. Yes, he was jealous, but he didn’t think you would tell Jamie about the kiss the two of you shared. At least, not so soon. His mind was racing all through practice, and when he finally settled into his desk chair, you were fully immersed in the emails you were writing and responding to, headphones in. 

You checked off another item on your to-do list, and when you turned around, you jumped slightly. “Jesus Christ, Roy, I didn’t hear you come in.” He grunts in response. 

“That’s why you shouldn’t wear those fuckin’ noise cancelling headphones. Leaves you exposed.” 

“Oh? Were you gonna come in here and get me with silly string or pop a balloon full of shaving cream above my head?” You tease, and you get a smirk from Roy. 

“Fuck off. I’m already on your boyfriend’s shit list. Don’t make me smile at you and shit.” You mime zipping your lips and turn back to your computer. 

You type in silence for a few minutes until Roy clears his throat. “I..um.” He falters and then tries again. “I like you, you know.” 

You stop typing, your fingers hovering above the keys of your laptop, wondering what on earth you could say in response to this. 

You settle on “Thank you, you’re not too bad to be around yourself.” 

This earns another snort from Roy. “Not what I fuckin’ meant and you know it. I mean, I like you. I want to be with you.” 

At this confession, you turn around, your nails digging crescents into the palms of your hands. “You barely know me.” 

“I know enough to know you kiss like a fuckin’ goddess, yeah?” 

You blush crimson against your own free will and shake your head, turning away from him again. “That was lust and nothing more.” 

You can feel the silence in the air. It’s heavy. It’s palpable. Maybe you hurt Roy’s feelings. Good, you thought, maybe then he would stop his odd pursuit of you. Not able to stand the awkward silence, you stand up abruptly and grab your purse. “I’m going to get lunch. Have a good afternoon.” Roy stands up as well, his dark eyes landing on yours. 

“Please, wait.” 

You stop, looking at him with your head tilted. 

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel anything between us. I mean, fuck’s sake, I almost had you right here in this office writhing beneath me.” 

You open your mouth and then close it again. While you definitely did feel the lust he was talking about, you felt all of that towards Jamie and more. You take a deep breath, breathing out slowly through your nose. 

“I don’t feel anything between us.” You say, meeting his eyes with a hard gaze. You brush past him, out of the office, leaving him standing there. It didn’t make him want you any less. 

—

You plunk your lunch down in Rebecca’s office, angrily stabbing a large chunk of lettuce with your fork. Rebecca chews slowly, watching you. 

“You seem like you’re having a good day.” 

You glance up at her, and your face must have given a deadly look, because Rebecca presses her lips together and silently slides you a biscuit. 

“It’s Roy.” 

Rebecca nearly chokes. “What about Kent?” 

“Last week he kissed me. Hard. Very sensually.” 

“And Jamie?”

“That’s the worst part, Bec. Jamie was so understanding. But now Roy is saying he wants to be with me, he felt something, blah blah blah.” 

Rebecca has stopped chewing entirely, her eyes wide. You look up at her and groan, pushing your lunch away and letting your forehead fall to the table with a soft thunk. 

“Do you have feelings for Roy?” Rebecca asks, reaching out and petting your hair softly. 

Muffled, you respond. “Am I attracted to him? Sure. But I have all that and more with Jamie. Roy is just making things more complicated and it feels like he’s using me as some pawn in some silent competition against Jamie.” You lift your head, rolling your eyes. “And I am not a pawn. I’m a fucking grown woman in a relationship with Jamie fucking Tartt.” 

Rebecca whoops. “That’s right!” She pats your hand. “You’re absolutely stunning, love. Jamie is lucky to have you and Roy is lucky he even got to kiss you once.” 

You smile at her, feeling much better than you had when you initially sat down in her office. “Thanks Bec.”

“Anytime. Now, can you schedule me in with Ted?” 

—

When you arrive home to Jamie’s place that evening, you fall onto the couch, flexing your fingers. “I swear, tomorrow’s upcoming match had me typing ten times the emails I usually do!” You complain, stretching your hands again and massaging your palms. You see Jamie’s handsome face pop over the top of the couch and you grin instinctively.

“Well, sweetheart, good thing you’ve got me here to comfort ya.” And the next thing you know he’s over the couch and lying on top of you. You giggle as he puts his weight on you, and you kiss his hair, sighing contentedly. “Babe?” You hear him ask. 

“Hm?” You reply, a little sleepy now that he was in your arms. 

He looks up to meet your eyes, his blue eyes hesitating. He’s chewing his bottom lip, a sure sign that you had come to know as one of his nervous tics. “Um. I know it’ll be a bit early, but will ya board the team bus with me?” 

You smile at him. “Of course I will. Riding to the match with you sounds like a good excuse to snuggle you while I take a nap.” 

Jamie shimmies his body up slightly so he can catch your lips in a sweet kiss, and you feel him smile into it. He pushes himself up, and pulls you with him. “C’mon. Got to feed ya before ya start actin’ like a gremlin.” You giggle, hugging him from behind and following him to the kitchen, letting him guide you. 

—

Boarding the bus the next morning, you shiver slightly, and Jamie hands you his sweatshirt. You pull it on gratefully. You’re waiting for the rest of the team to shuffle into their seats when you feel Jamie protectively rest a hand on your waist. You look over your shoulder at him slightly but he’s looking straight ahead, his jaw clenched. You glance around and realize that Roy is watching the two of you carefully. When he sees you glance his way, he sends you a wink. 

You know Jamie saw it, because his fingers dig into your hip, never leaving your person until you’re both sitting side by side in the comfortable athletic bus seats. 

“Fuckin’ prick.” Jamie mutters, and you reach out and play with his hair, your fingers grazing the nape of his neck. He hums in acceptance, settling into his seat, and you lean in, kissing his jawline softly. 

“Focus that angry energy on the match, babe. No need to be cross now. You’ve got me, don’t you?” 

Jamie turns to you, his eyes considerably softer as he gazes at you. “Yeah. Yeah, I do. Pretty lucky, yeah?” He says, scrunching his nose and nudging your shoulder. You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder, smiling to yourself when you feel him kiss the top of your head. 

You were lucky to have him. He was kind, sweet, and understanding. You were also surprised that Jamie hadn’t punched Roy in the face, but you were sure another player on Man City would be on the receiving end of whatever anger he was still harboring. Towards Roy, towards his own father, it didn’t matter. You snuggle into Jamie, hoping that the match went well this afternoon. 

—

Ted had asked you to stand with him on the sidelines, taking notes on everything he was saying and wanted to remember later. He did this sometimes, especially when he wanted to remember any strategies the other team might be using, or remember a sub lineup that he might not have thought of before. 

Either way, you stood next to Ted with your small notebook, your pen over your ear, watching the game intently. Everytime Jamie ran by, he would point at you or give you a wink. 

Ted looks over at you after Jamie’s most recent show of gratitude towards you. “Y’all two really enjoy each other huh?” You nodded enthusiastically, and Roy rolls his eyes, prompting Coach Beard to elbow him in the side. 

You were secretly waiting for the moment the coaching team gave Jamie the signal. 

You didn’t have to wait long, and you watched Jamie become the cockiest prick you’ve ever seen. Taunting, jeering, cutting in front of people and maneuvering the ball like a pro. 

And then, he winks at you, strutting around while he hits his chest, tongue out. You swear to god that you go absolutely feral. You bite your lip subconsciously, not at all aware that Roy was stealing glances your way. Even if you had noticed, you wouldn’t care. You only had eyes for Jamie, and Jamie alone. He didn’t know this, but any time he did his cocky shit and stuck his tongue out…you had to restrain yourself from rushing the pitch like a madwoman, even before the two of you were together. 

When Richmond clinches the win, the team celebrates like mad, and before you know it, Jamie has rushed towards you, picking you up. You wrap your legs around him, kissing him fiercely. He smiles up at you, squeezing his arms a bit tighter around you. 

You trace his bottom lip with your pointer finger, and his eyes roam your face, a look of wonder behind his blue eyes. You lean in close enough for him to hear with the ruckus around you. “You are so fucking hot, Jamie Tartt.” 

 There’s that cocky grin again, his tongue poking through his teeth, and all you can do is crash your lips to his hungrily. Jamie seems slightly taken aback, but he melts into you all the same. There was no way you would ever admit to him that his prickish behavior turned you on. But you think he might know, anyway. 

“Just wait until I get you home after we go out and celebrate.” Jamie mutters, nipping at your ear and then your neck playfully. You laugh, kissing him multiple times, feeling like you couldn’t get enough of him. It almost felt like you weren’t standing on the pitch in front of everyone.

Roy watched the two of you, a strange feeling bubbling in his gut. Not just jealousy, or anger, but…longing? It felt like his mind halted. That was exactly how he felt about you. He was pining for you, and you didn’t even know the extent of it. He lets out a low growl and turns away from the pitch, seeking the solitude of the boot room. 

You notice him walk away and frown slightly, wondering why Roy wasn’t partaking in the same victory as the rest of the team. You wonder briefly if it had anything to do with you, but you shake the feeling off. 

“Love, I’m going to go and greet some fans, yeah? Will you be alright?” Jamie’s voice breaks through your wonder and you turn to him, touched by his need to assure that you’re okay. 

“You sweet boy, Jamie. Yes, go. I need to speak to Ted, Beard and Roy about the notes I took during the game anyhow.” You noticed Jamie’s grimace and kiss the look off of his face. “I’ll be fine.” You promise, smiling at him. 

Jamie walks away, an uneasy feeling churning in his stomach. He knew you wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, but Roy could be one charming bastard. 

—

“Ted?” You called, assuming all three of the coaches had receded inside to talk strategy and about what could be done for the rest of the season. “Ted?” You called again. 

You see dark hair pop out of the boot room and into the guest locker room. “He’s not here.” Roy says, bluntly, with an impolite air about him. 

“Well, shit. I need to give him these notes.” You mutter, looking around. You spot Ted’s bag sitting on the chair he had occupied hours before, and plop the notes on top. “There. He’ll figure it out.” You say to yourself. 

“Why are you really back here?” Roy asks suddenly, leaning against the door frame. 

Against your better judgment, you let your guard down and sigh. “You looked angry when you walked off the pitch and I wanted to see if you were alright.” 

“I’ve just realized that I absolutely long for you, so no. I’m not alright.”

Your mouth goes dry. “You what?” You say stupidly, blinking at the ex-footballer. 

“You know, we really have to stop meeting like this. Cornering each other in rooms that feel much too cramped.” 

You roll your eyes and back up, not wanting to get caught in his intoxicating gaze again. “I guess that happens when you share an office with someone.” You retort, smiling tiredly. 

Roy licks his lips and clears his throat. “I know you feel something too. And it’s fine if you don’t want to say it. But I’m going to fuckin’ say it.” He stays where he is, figuring that he didn’t want to come off as intimidating. “I take whatever I want. And I want you. You are everything that I’ve ever wanted in a woman and I’m sorry it took me until now to voice it out loud.” 

Your ears feel like they might pop, and you suddenly feel lightheaded. “Roy…” You quietly warn. 

“That’s all I needed to say. Just know that I can be better for you than fuckin’ Jamie Tartt.” 

You shake your head. How do you even respond to a confession like that? “Fine. I did feel something the day you kissed me. But I feel that with Jamie too, and nothing can change the way I feel about him. I’ve loved that boy since I first met him and I don’t think any amount of lust can change that. I know you think I’m some perfect woman, but I’m not, Roy. I’m just me.” You shrug. “I’m flattered, really. But this…whatever it is…it’ll pass.” 

“I don’t think it will.”

“Please, Roy. Don’t say that.” You look away from him at this point, closing your eyes when you feel him come closer.  

“It’s the truth, babe.” He says softly. Softer than you’ve ever heard him speak, frankly. You open your eyes again and settle them on him, the look of pining on his face too much for you to handle. 

As you open your mouth to respond again, Ted walks in, and you quickly grab your notes and blend in with the rest of the team as they chatter and settle in. You quickly locate Jamie, who pulls you into his lap. Immediately you are at ease and you melt into him, feeling as if you fit together like two puzzle pieces.He presses soft kisses into your shoulder blades, unknowing of the conversation that had been taking place before. All Jamie can think about is you, and how happy he is that you’ve given him a chance. 

Meanwhile, all Roy can think about is you, and how miserable it is to watch you be loved by someone else. 

You purposefully ignore Roy Kent for the rest of the evening.

[ateotd-izzy]

lavender haze | stuart twombly x fem!reader

“i feel the lavender haze creeping up on me”

stuart and y/n had been dating for only a few months after accidentally meeting while he was renting a few dvds from where she worked.

“surreal, i’m damned if i do give a damn what people say”

stuart liked keeping his private life, well, private from the others at google. but there wasn’t much he could do when they found out that he had a girlfriend.

“no deal, the 1950s sh*t they want from me”

warnings: swearing, kissing or wtv, nothing too bad

“i just wanna stay in that lavender haze”

☾

“stewie’s got a girlfriend?” nick grinned at him teasingly. “wow. never would’ve guessed.”

“i know, right?” billy, who had been the one to find out and tell the others, grinned. “dark and stormy’s not very dark and stormy anymore.”

“guys, can you just shut up about it now?” stuart asked, turning to face his laptop again. “yes. i have a girlfriend. big deal.”

“this is a big deal, stuart.” billy told him. “do we get to meet her?”

“no.”

“what? never?”

“never.”

“aww.” neha fake-pouted. “anyway, can we get back to work?”

“finally something i agree with.” stuart pointed to her. “back to work.”

“but i would love to meet your girlfriend, stuart.” neha added and he groaned. “do you think she’d follow me on instagram?”

“no. shut up.”

“oh, come on, stuart.” billy laughed as stuart put his headphones on. “don’t be like that.”

“guys, back to work.” lyle ordered and the rest of the group sighed before turning back to their computers.

“how’d you meet your girlfriend, stuart?” yo-yo asked and the room burst into chatter again.

“yeah, how, stuart?” nick asked and stuart rolled his eyes.

“none of your business.” stuart replied, pulling out his phone after it vibrated, indicating he got a text. it was from you.

“you should invite her to tomorrow night, stuart.” billy suggested. “to the par-tay.”

stuart gave billy a weird look. “why?”

“so we can meet her, duh.” neha scoffed.

“no.”

“invite her.” billy ordered.

“no.” stuart shook his head.

“do it. invite her.” nick agreed.

“no.” he spoke more firmly. “i’m not inviting her.”

“hey, babe.” you greeted as stuart appeared in front of the counter as you worked. “what’s up?”

“are you busy tomorrow night?” he asked. straight to the point.

“i shouldn’t be. why?”

stuart sighed. “there’s some work party and everyone in my group wants you to come.”

you smiled. “really?”

“yeah. so, if you want, you can come.” stuart silently prayed you wouldn’t want to go. “you don’t have to.”

“no, it sounds fun. i’ll go.”

“seriously?”

“yeah, why not?”

“nothing. yeah, cool, whatever.” he forced a smile. “see you at my place tonight?”

“yeah, of course.”

“great.” stuart turned around and the smile dropped.

fuck.

he really wanted you to say no.

he could’ve just not brought it up and acted like you weren’t invited, but that would be a horrible thing to do.

he wished he did that.

that was how you ended up at a google work party the next night with stuart, hiding in the corner of the room.

“why can’t i meet your friends?” you asked and stuart frowned.

“because you can’t.” he mumbled, taking a sip of his drink and adjusting the beanie on his head.

if it weren’t casual dress you probably would’ve had to rip the hat from his head to make sure he wouldn’t be wearing it.

“from what you’ve told me they don’t seem bad.” you shrugged and stuart stared at you.

“trust me. they are the worst.”

“are you talking about us, stewie?” nick asked as he approached the two of you, and stuart rolled his eyes and groaned. nick held out his hand to you. “i’m nick.”

“no.” stuart grabbed your hand. “let’s go.”

“oh, come on, stu.” you gave him a look. you shook nick’s hand. “my name’s y/n.”

“it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, y/n.” nick greeted before looking at stuart. “she’s so much nicer than you. where have you been hiding her?”

stuart glared and you chuckled.

“no seriously, how the hell did you get such a nice girlfriend when you’re a massive jerk?” nick asked jokingly. “i’m kidding.”

awkward silence.

“i’ll be back in a second.” stuart mumbled to you. “stay here.”

“where are you going?” you asked stuart while nick wandered off to get another drink.

“just the bathroom.” he told you, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “i’ll be right back.”

“alright then. go.” you pushed him lightly and he kissed you once more before he walked away.

“so, you’re stuart’s girlfriend?”

you turned your head at the voice and were met with a girl around your age.

so when stuart left the bathroom, he found you happily talking with neha patel.

when he appeared at your side again, stuart took your hand in his and you smiled.

“hey.” you looked away from him and went back to your conversation with neha.

stuart stared at the two of you. he didn’t like you talking to neha. he had tried so hard to keep you separate from his work friends.

he knew what they were like. he didn’t want them to be all in your business, or to annoy you too much.

he didn’t want them to scare you off. after all, you had only been dating for three months.

“—alright, thank you, neha.” stuart quickly cut off whatever conversation you were having and tugged on your hand. “we’re gonna go now.”

“what?” you asked, confused. “why?”

he shook his head, gave neha an extremely forced smile and practically pulled you across the room.

“stuart, what the hell is going on with you?” you asked as the two of you left the room and went out into the hallway.

“nothing.”

“bullshit.”

“who have you talked to tonight?”

“why?”

“who?”

“like, five people. nick, billy, neha, lyle and yo-yo.” you counted on your fingers as you listed them. “and billy introduced me to some guy he called chetty, so six.”

“oh, god.” stuart groaned and rubbed his eyes, his hands slipping under his glasses.

“why, stuart? what’s the big deal?” you asked. “why are you being so weird?”

“because they’re so…” stuart sighed. “they act like they need to know everything about everyone and are always trying to know everything about every aspect of my life.”

stuart let go of your hand and instead sat his hands on your waist.

“you’re the one thing i want to keep separate from them. i don’t want them to end up ruining this.” stuart spoke quietly. you brought your hands up to his shoulders. “i love you, y/n.”

that was something new.

you smiled and leaned forward, connecting your lips before pulling away just a second later.

“i love you too, stuart.” you laughed softly against his lips, making him smile, before you leaned into another kiss.

you reached up and pulled the beanie off of his head, running your fingers through his hair after.

“you’ve got to agree that they’re annoying, right?” stuart asked almost immediately after pulling away.

“oh, definitely. i think billy asked me about eight times if we were going to get married.”

stuart laughed a little. “seriously?”

“yeah. they asked so many questions about us.”

the two of you were silent for a moment.

“do you want to go back inside?” he gestured to the doors beside you.

“no.” you answered, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. “i just want to stay with you.”

“back to my place?” he asked and you nodded.

“of course.”

the two of you headed towards the building’s front doors.

“do you want take-out?”

“it’s, like, midnight.”

“yeah, but do you?”

“yeah.”

stuart chuckled and opened the door for you. “i love you.”

“so you’ve said.” you teased, kissing his cheek. “i love you, too.”

you both walked to the car in silence. hand-in-hand.

taglist: @brvceyamada

a/n: i feel like this is too short or smth, but yay lavender haze

[nsk96]

Personal reflection…sort of. Not really a rant this time but I just needed to get this out of my system. Y’all skip this one. It’s just sad long and boring but nothing concerning thankfully, just something to show to my future therapist when I get the chance to finally make that appointment. Been having some thoughts I need to jot down

My left ear is hurting a lot as a wear this beanie over my ears. The cartilage part is what hurts. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised since we have a lot of nerve endings in our ears or something right? My left ear always hurts whenever I wear something over it like headphones or those earrings that wrap around the back of the ear. And even my mask. To be fair, the mask hurts both my ears, but the left always hurts the most.

I have a scar on my left ear. More accurately inside the cartilage. I can feel it with my fingers, this jagged little chunk that still hurts a little or feels super sensitive when I rub it. I’ve had it as far back as middle school. I don’t remember exactly when but I know I was somewhere between 11 and 13. The first time I spoke to my mom about it a few years ago, I mentioned it casually, and she denied ever yanking it that hard.

The night it happened, it was a cleaning day, so that means the windows were open the whole day to air out the house and the fumes from the cleaning products. I came out the shower and went to my room to get dressed. I’m not dumb so obviously I wasn’t going to get dressed in front of an open bedroom window where the dude in the car outside could see me. I had a bunk bed where I had a whole lot of clothes hanging from the side, and changed behind there ensuring full coverage. Not to mention the bed was off to the side away from the window, so I would have been out of sight anyway by angle alone.

I finished and went out to the living room. Immediately my mom asked if my bedroom window was still open, and answering honestly, I said yes. Now at this point I was starting to freak out a little inside especially seeing her face change. To this day, my mom always had this way of asking questions that made you feel like you were being interrogated, and that mixed with the fact that she utilized corporal punishment during my growing up and her inability to regulate her emotions, I was shitting bricks and froze. She asked if I changed with the window open. (Mothers…always asking the questions they know the answers to. I can only laugh at that part now because I cried enough about it).

All I could answer was “yes.” I couldn’t get the full explanation out of me. How do I explain my strategy to her? Would she even believe me? I wasn’t sure she’d believe me.

She abruptly got up and grabbed me by the ear, and dragged me outside by the ear as I tried to keep up, nearly tripping over the stepping stones and pebbles that lined our front yard’s walkway. It’s at this point I don’t even remember exactly what she said. All I know is that she pointed to the open window to “show me” how much we can see outside and then to the car across the street that was blasting music and she said something about him “enjoying the strip show”. I mostly remember cupping my ear because of the pain. My ear hurt for about a week afterwards.

Over a decade later, it hurts when agitated and I’m reminded of that night. I’m also reminded of how my mom denied it when I brought it up. Nowadays, I have difficulty lying, but I also have difficulty speaking up for myself like that night and I keep wondering why.

Growing up, when I did things that got me in trouble with my parents, it was sometimes easier to lie than to explain my thought process because my mom would say that my explanation was a lousy excuse or just not believe me at all. My older brother being the compulsive liar that he was, didn’t help my case either. I’ve told the truth more than I lied. I was more of the “hide things from my parents” kind of kid instead of the lying one but you learn what you can to survive parents who don’t have time to learn who you are or figure out how to parent you besides the methods they learned from their parents. For example, that time I hated the flavor of my Flintstones multivitamins so I hid each dose under the dresser every morning. Tasted too much of iron for me to handle at the time. I didn’t pretend to be a vampire until 9.

I guess I can’t complain. My mom grew up with a mother who broke her nose and chased down my aunt with a cutlass. I think I feel as hurt as I do partially because I feel like I was punished for things that were out of my control such as the memory issues I still deal with today. It’s just baffling to me that she went through it herself, but can’t understand why it was so hard for me to trust her as a teen and adult, or why it took me 22 years to open up to her about the CSA I experienced at age 5, the nightmares (nightmare of the corporal punishment of which I’d wake up crying), my interests, who I am as a person. Even now, she thinks she has me figured out and it’s bugs the hell out of me because I feel like I can’t truly be myself around anyone, not even her without her thinking I’m weird or have some reaction like “O-kAyy”. I’ll give her credit where it’s due though. She’s been supportive of my cosplay hobby but I get the feeling that she wants me to quit. Just a hunch.

My love for anime is always like “oh you’re still watching cartoons.” She tries to make it sound like she's joking but how many times are you going to make the same joke. And so many times I repeatedly had to argue with her about me wanting to put up my anime and gaming posters on my current bedroom walls. There was one time when she even tried to say I’m too old for that. As a kid, I scavenged whatever I could get to hang up on my bedroom wall, a shared bedroom with my brother, who was allowed to hang up all the posters he wanted, including a two of motorbike bikini ladies. All I had was a dragon poster from a book and a horse poster. I couldn’t put too many up because she said they’ll collect dust.

Now I have my own bedroom and some of my own money to buy quality posters of things I’m interested in and love, and I can’t hang them up? When I was organizing my collectibles around my tv stand to decorate, she came in and said, “it doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s not like anyone will see it anyway.” Didn’t she just say months earlier about having my friends over?…my gaming buddies btw…and my gaming console is in my room…and their rooms are literally set up like this as well. That aside though, I didn’t care about that, I was doing this for me. Bring color and life into this room besides the empty walls that are still mostly empty. She's only quiet about the posters now because I told her about the posters some of my classmates have that I saw during zoom meetings.

Anyways, I got so far from the point. I think the reason I freeze now whenever someone blows up at me or puts me on the spot or like an interrogation, is because there’s never a right answer. I was taught not to lie, and I can’t lie because I get this weird visceral feeling like my guts are crying when I try to lie, so as a result I’m like a compulsive truth teller almost. But I was also taught my explanations are not good enough, so I guess that could be why I just can’t get myself to say anything and I go blank or just reply with the obvious (Like that time when the pharmacist asked “who even are you” which was a rhetorical question she was asking to be dramatic and rude, and all I could reply with was my name as I blanked out). Fear as well. When someone of authority blows up at me, ngl, it’s like I’m a kid again standing in front of my mom waiting for my sentence.

For years I couldn’t remember much of my childhood at all. I remembered some of the bad. I still hardly remember the good probably because the bad overshadows it still as some of it might be locked away deeper. As I keep looking back and digging, memories are surfacing. Sometimes, other people’s stories or fragments will trigger memories because I went through similar.

Like that time my mom forced me to take a pregnancy test. That memory was locked away until I read a story on Reddit of a girl who’s bf locked her in the bathroom and forced her to take the test. My mom didn’t lock me in, but what choice did I have. I was 11, and she heard rumors of kids at my middle school having sex in the bathrooms. Of course she asked me and I told her the truth which was that I heard the same rumors but never witnessed anything. I hit puberty at 11 and so you know…I was developing. My mom said, “your breasts are getting bigger, are you sexually active?” I said no (I was a virgin). She didn’t believe me and that’s when she forced me to take the pregnancy test. My stupid ass was freaking out the whole time because I thought a false positive was possible and all I could think of was what she’d do to me if I got one. Thank heavens if was false. But I’m starting to think it was at this point I started really hiding things from her. The only time I’d come to her is when I thought I might end up in serious trouble (rare). I hid so much from her and continue to do so today.

Last week, I had to go to a health fair about 1 hour from home, to vaccinate people. My mom came along. Conversation came up about bringing my dad along and my mom said, “bring him along and do what? I can’t sit next to him without wanting to reach over and strangle him for what he did.” She also said something about not being able to handle knowing what she knows now, referring to what I opened up to her about back in May. She said it’s all just too much. I don’t know if she realized what she said but now after hearing it, I just feel like I never should have told her. Maybe it’s a secret I should have had to carry to the grave…well to the fire.

I once told my mom that I don’t remember most of my childhood. She said it was normal because she hardly remembers hers too. But I hear of other people who seem to remember so much and had such colorful happy childhoods, and then there are the friends who had effed up childhoods who can hardly remember theirs as well. I’m starting to see a pattern and I don’t like it.

My relationship with my mom is complex. I know I say quite a bit about her. But I do love her and she's been there for me through everything and did the best she could considering the demon of a husband she has. However, I'm not making excuses for her anymore. Whenever I bring things up, instead of sorry or sympathy, I'm met with denial and downplay. A year ago, an astrologer, who knew nothing of my personal life, equipped with only my birthday and time of birth, told me that I'm prone to abusive relationships and that I should not live with family because family will always be a "source of grief" for me. Both past and present events were proof of the points he said, but it took hearing it from him to make me ask myself "Why?" From now on, I will have to practice not making excuses for people. It's time to start being myself and learning to be comfortable with the weird, and exploring the parts of me I never got to explore.

(That's actually what contributed to my depression episode the past couple of months. Seeing what I wanted to be and being so close to trying it out but unable to go all in due to fear of judgement from my mom and those around me. One of these things is goth fashion. I've always liked it since I was a kid and was always into spooky and creepy things. I recently learned that goth culture is based around goth music and that the goth community takes that very seriously (to the point of gate keeping, like for some people, you can't listen to anything else). I like goth music...but I listen to almost everything and there are genres that I enjoy much more. Some probably do fall into the goth category but not goth enough for some people. I already decided that I will practice not living my life for other people so hope the gatekeepers are ready for the battering ram)

[unwantedhatred]

Marvel fanfics hurt me deeply..(mostly Peter Parker. These are just my opinions and my unwanted hatred)

God, I’m gonna sound so awful the second I say this.. but fuck all fanfics involving lgbtq+, mental Illnesses, pronouns and iron dad. And y’know what, FUCK FOUND FAMILY WITH THE AVENEGERS! And since we’re already there, fuck femboy Peter and Harley Keener.

I’m all for with Peter having ADHD, being Bisexual and having Tony as his Father figure, but some people push it. It gets to the point where it’s so unrealistic and honestly creepy, plus everything now has to do with LGBTQ+ or it’s just not a fanfic to all of you. Also.. why do you think it’s okay for Peter to act.. like a barbie doll..?

Peter is cannonly bisexual in the comics and also shown signs in the live action version as well that he is. I mean, we can’t forget the way he looked at Quill when he dissed Thor like that. But now I can’t read a fic without it having to do with pride. Like, yes, it’s normal, but then at some point Peter goes on a rant on twitter or just somewhere talking about Pride and all the hate towards it, then a bunch of people praise him for that and it goes around for ages. It just came out of no where for no reason. Why is everyone praising him? Being gay or something is the most normal thing nowadays. Then everyone starts going to pride parades or come out as gay or something. It’s not even apart of the actual story, it’s just there for some reason. Why?

Don’t get me started on when everyone starts pulling pronouns out of their ass. Why. Just why. Randomly in the middle of the fic, all the Avengers talk about their pronouns, starting with “she/they” or “him/she”. There was no need. Absolutely no need for that. Then they start talking about how they wish for everyone in the community to respect them by their pronouns. At their age, they shouldn’t even care. Then they all make a huge fuss about it online and how they wish everyone to respect them by their pronouns. It’s unprofessional, I’m sorry, but there was no need and it makes no sense. Soon the whole fic is just about that the whole time. Why must everything involve pride and BLM? Half the Black people you see online don’t even care about white lives. No hate on BLM, but I’m hating on them. All it is is just about one race. Half of them think it’s okay to hate on white lives while white people and all these other races have fought for them. It’s insane. Not everything is about race.(now it’s just unwanted hatred online, woops)

All of you have an obsession with Peter having a mental illness or something fucked up in his head. It’s genuinely messed up how you guys play these characters with issues. It gets to the point where he genuinely needs help and yet all you think you need to do is get someone to hug them and it’s okay. Even with sensory overloads. Yes, it can get bad, but he doesn’t need to be crying in the corner. He’s not a kid and he’s been dealing with it for ages, so I don’t know why you need to add that. Can’t he just be normal?

Why must he have stuffed animals? Have you ever actually interacted with a guy? Yes, some do have stuffed animals and it’s usually the ones who do have issues, but why does he need like an entire army? The only ones you usually see with one are little kids and ones who need extra help in life. Sure, having an old one from his childhood sitting under his bed is fine, but why a whole box? Why is he taking it with him everywhere? Then they say he has an Avengers collection of stuffed toys. The Avengers were formed when he was 10-11. He’s not gonna have much besides a poster or an old figurine. It’s not cute. It’s like watching a Disney series. The characters don’t act normal and it’s just weird.

Why does any story that involves Peter being gay or even bisexual have him wearing booty shorts? Or even those cat headphones.. and a tank top. Normal people don’t wear those. Yes, some little kids wear those headphones, but you’re pushing the limits here. Not cute and honestly really weird. Always pouting and acting like he’s 5.

People who write irondad and anything involving Tony need to calm down. Whenever he’s around Peter, you make it look like they’re dating. Why are they always cuddling? Why does he kiss Peter on the cheek? Why does he call him baby? Yeah, doing this for your toddler and little kid, normal, but he’s a teenager and a boy. Its strange and even around my own Father, I’d be creeped out. Peter always has a nightmare and runs over to his “Father” and sleeps with him. In the show, he acts more like a mentor than a Father minus two scenes which are their deaths. That shit was heartbreaking and he lost his kid while Peter lost Tony. It’s gone over the line of being close to creepy. He’s an adult treating a teenager like a baby. It’s so wrong.

The Avengers always seem to have an obsession with him. They’re always touching one another and fighting over him. Like, it’s cute once or twice in a story or even funny, but it just genuinely seems creepy. Laying in each others laps and threatening to kill someone for going near Peter? It’s disturbing. Yes, they all have issues, but you make it out like it’s affecting everything.

Why is Parley so toxic? Half the stories are about Harley being a douche bag and being such a bitch towards Peter and then they randomly get together. Like wtf.. one was so messed up it actually made me hate Harley. I genuinely can’t handle this ship. Also what is with characters threatening to tell the main character that they like their crush if they don’t do something. That’s just a bad friend. I would hate if one of mine went over to my crush and said I liked them. It’s messed up and they need to stop doing that to Peter, especially when the so called “crush” is so awful.

It’s so random and I hate it. MJ/Shuri. Horrible ship. Never met and makes no sense. Also, Ned/Peter. They’re best friends, brothers! Wtf.. also, poly ships. No. Why? It’s like a trio. They never actually work out. Might at the start, but in the end.. it’s basically like two fighting over one person and the other just wants both or the other is just a second option in reality. It’s an excuse half the time. I understand some may working, but it’s so random and unneeded.

There needs to be serious limits to these, cause wtf are half of these people on. This isn’t cute, this isn’t funny and it’s not how people act. It’s honestly gross. Don’t even get me started on Flash. It’s 2023 plus he goes to a Science school. If he ever did beat Peter up, police would be involved nowadays. He’s not even that bad. Sure he makes a few comments here and there, but Peter hardly reacts. Flash isn’t even that stupid to say it in front of The Avengers. In reality, if they did go to SI, Flash would mock peter once and when the Q&A started, ask if Peter of people underaged work at SI and then proceed to wink at Peter or make one small comment about him. He’s not even half bad. You guys make him seem so much worse, like wtf.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ruined, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon's, your roommate's, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; classic Namjoon ripping clothes; you don't have to know how to play LoL, I explain most of it; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, scratching / marking, nipple play, edging / orgasm denial, handjob, (unintentional?) voyeurism, little bit of cum-eating, choking, cowgirl, cock warming); non-idol!BTS – purple-haired, kind-of-a-brat, sub!Jungkook x gamer, noona, dom!reader, ft OT6 being chaotic in the background XD

@yn-the-reader linked me in this and I was already writing about him. a prophet, maybe? XD

--

“WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?”

You died.

Not literally, but also literally.

“Fuck!”

Now you had thirty-seven seconds of gray screen to figure out why the fuck Jeon Jungkook had busted into your bedroom on this cheerful night with his black dress shirt three-quarters of the way unbuttoned, revealing most of his – oh, sweet Satan, very muscular – pecs and the upper half of his abs. He was holding something in his hands, looking helpless and sad, while you were panic buying Liandry's Anguish and experiencing a special form of anguish yourself.

“Noona, um–”

That’s right, because you were in the middle of a League of Legends game, playing Cassiopeia, the Serpent’s Embrace, also known as half-snake lady or the lamia of the champion roster or a mean version of Monster Musume’s Miia (if you know, you know, and if you don’t, be glad you don’t). Your roommate was having friends over after going drinking. All this was fine and dandy with you, because you were going to spend all night wearing headphones and playing League of Legends, therefore ignoring the outside world, until the outside world came to bother you in the form of Kim Namjoon’s – your roommate’s – mostly shirtless friend Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t mostly shirtless most of the time, only right now.

“Noona, Namjoon-hyung ripped my shirt…” Jungkook whimpered hesitantly, chewing on his lip. He looked awkward and distraught despite his long dark purple hair giving him a rather fierce, bad-boy look.

Namjoon was a great roommate. He was smart, conversational, and insightful. A chat with him usually led to an enriching, open-minded perspective. He was relatively clean, considerate, communicative, nonjudgmental, fun to be around, and only set the kitchen on fire twice.

The second time was your fault.

You shouldn’t have let Namjoon in the kitchen the second time.

Also, Namjoon with his friends was a wildly chaotic time. All of his friends, especially drunk, were fucking nuts. Normally, they were probably relatively calm people (maybe not Kim Seokjin or Jung Hoseok, they were very excitable), but together they were a mess. You often wondered how they could function as a group.

Currently, however, you were trying to collect your brain cells as you had mere seconds before respawning onto the platform and were forced to play again. Timing in League of Legends was very important. Seconds can mess up wave management of minions and wave mismanagement can lead to game losses if you weren’t careful. The nuances of the game were often ignored by casual players.

You were, in short, a nerd about it.

“Fucking s-shit, what h-happened?” you sputtered out, turning back to your screen, unable to look at mostly shirtless Jungkook because he was MOSTLY SHIRTLESS. Honestly, he had quite nice pecs, and you should not be thinking about that, but it was incredibly distracting, just like how it used to be distracting when Namjoon was shirtless, but several years of living with him made you accustomed to his impressive pectoral muscles, to the point where you could joke about them with him.

But this was not Namjoon – this was his younger friend Jungkook and you had no idea Jungkook was ripped, mostly because you didn’t pay attention to Namjoon’s friends.

There were too many of them and you were too introverted for that.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed my shirt and it ripped and I managed to find all the buttons, but, but…”

Cassiopeia respawned on the platform and you couldn’t ignore the snake lady any longer. You had to play the game because four random people on your team were counting on you and you couldn’t exactly type, sorry, there’s a hot man in my room with his shirt practically off and I don’t know what to do with my life, so you had to suck it up and play the damn game.

Right-clicking and keeping your eyes only on your computer monitor.

Half-listening to that trembling, silvery voice coming up behind you, making your hairs stand on end even though all he was doing was dumping the tiny buttons on your desk.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself.

“Can you repair it? Please? My mom bought me this shirt and Namjoon-hyung said you can sew, so maybe you can sew them back on? Please?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I can, just not right now, I’m in the middle of a game,” you rambled, suddenly trading damage with the enemy Viktor, trying to avoid the laser from the Machine Herald, swearing under your breath as you stutter-stepped and stunned him, poisoning him quickly enough with your abilities to avoid dying. “I will help you, I just – fucking shit, get the fuck away from me Udyr, fuck!”

“Wow, you curse a lot, noona. It’s kind of funny.”

“I – fuck– I mean, sometimes, and what are you guys doing out there? It sounds like a deranged cabaret club,” you remarked, ticking your head towards the direction of your bedroom door.

“Karaoke!” Jungkook replied brightly, still standing behind you, why was he standing behind you, it was freaking you out a little, but Ocean Dragon was being taken and a team fight was about to happen, so you had to ignore it and support your teammates in chasing down the enemy support.

Seokjin hit a high note that was so shrill that you heard it through your headphones.

“… Wow, he’s got some lungs on him.”

“Do you wanna join us, noona?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we.”

“Pretty sure all of you can sing better than I can, even Yoongi and Namjoon. I’m fucking terrible.”

“I’m not that good.”

You barely survived with thirty hit points after that debacle of a team fight, but your team had the dragon and you all were slowly on your way to victory. You pressed the ‘B’ key to return to base, but kept your eyes on the screen, lest Udyr, the Spirit Walker and serial bear stun-slapping enemy jungler, ran your ass down and killed you.

“Jungkook, your voice is absolutely heavenly. Fucking beautiful. I’m sure every human being on Earth would want to be serenaded by you.”

Silence that you didn’t notice was awkward for him because you were too busy letting out a sigh of relief and building your next item, typing quickly to your teammates. You all were about to set up for vision around Baron Nashor, a large purple worm-dragon monster that when killed provided a significant, sometimes game-ending buff.

“R… really?”

“Yeah, and you’re handsome, gorgeous, and hot as hell too, so the whole damn package,” you responded absentmindedly, realizing the enemy were trying to split-push and trade objectives so you sent some pings to your teammate to take care of that as you accompanied the main group to help clear waves of minions.

Heat.

You heard him shift beside you and suddenly his face was next to yours, watching your screen closely.

Side-step, cast your ultimate, cast your Miasma ability to ground the enemies and prevent them from dashing away, switching between auto-attacking and piercing them with Twin Fang, all in the span of a mild freak-out because why was Jungkook so FUCKING close?

“Wow, you’re so good at League.”

“I’m Diamond rank, so not that good, but definitely better than all seven of you combined.”

“Haha, true, we’re all pretty bad,” Jungkook laughed next to your ear and, oh, shit, is warm breath feathered on your neck, why weren’t you wearing a turtleneck or something and not your self-cropped oversized band t-shirt and slinky black leggings, why weren’t you cocooned in layers of clothes, because you were quickly highly aware of how attractive Namjoon’s friends were.

To top it all off, you were in the middle of a game, so you just had to tolerate it and stay calm for the sake of your teammates and your elo.

“Maybe you could teach us and we’ll teach you something in return.”

“You guys don’t even listen to each other, why would I assume you all would listen to me?”

“I’d listen to you, noona.”

Now your team was doing the Baron dance, skirting in and out of vision, daring the other team to make a move, daring each other to make a mistake so the other could capitalize on it, slowly, slowly, watch the waves, watch the minimap. Careful. You could control the situation if you were calm and not too trigger-happy. Tension in your fingers and tension in your neck because your roommate’s friend was right next to your head, observing your every move.

His violet hair brushed your shoulder.

Soft, delicate strands against your skin.

“You’re more experienced, so you would know what to do.”

Your support snap-engaged a fight and you were immediately in the zone, right clicking rapidly, cycling through your abilities, keeping track of the opponents’ spells, determined not to let any of them get away, following your teammate’s calls and not hesitating, because hesitation as death and loss, and you were so close to winning you could taste it, going after it with passionate vigor and a slow-forming grin, seeing and hearing the in-game announcer declaring, QUADRA KILL.

You didn’t kill all five of them because someone took the pentakill from you.

You might have cared about that except your ear exploded into clapping as Jungkook excitedly applauded for you, cheering you on, reminding you that a mostly shirtless man was standing right next to you.

Thanks, Namjoon, you thought sarcastically.

“Wow, you played that so well, dodging the Viktor ult and stunning three people like that–”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliments, busying yourself with your team killing Baron. You didn’t usually have someone commenting on your games. Your eyes flickered to the small buttons on your desk.

Especially not a mostly shirtless guy.

Mostly shirtless hot guy.

Back to screen, seeing your jungler’s typed instructions, suggesting you all to destroy as many structures as you could and then prepare for the next fight for Ocean Dragon Soul and – oh? Your eyebrows raised as the screen abruptly jerked to the enemy base, the nexus inside exploding into shiny gem-like fragments that became the VICTORY banner.

“They surrendered?” you uttered with surprise, clicking on the CONTINUE button. “Why?”

Your eyes flickered to the kill score.

“Oh, thirty-two to nine… maybe that’s why….”

Your team had the nine deaths and the opponent team had thirty-two so, well, maybe that’s why they surrendered the game.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Jungkook pouted as you clicked on the damage screen. Second most damage. Okay, you could take that. You were a little distracted.

“So, about your problem–”

You spun around to, ack, realize that, yes, Jungkook’s shirt was still flapped wide open to expose his chest like an unwrapped piece of caramel candy. He seemed to realize it too, making a surprised face and yanking the sides closed, as if you hadn’t gotten a damn eyeful already.

“I can resew the buttons back on, but you should borrow a shirt from Namjoon in the meantime,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Because I, ah, can’t really sew it when you’re still wearing the shirt.”

“Oh… Oh, right, yeah.”

Then he started yanking his shirt out of his slacks.

UMMMMMMM.

Usually, you didn’t care about this stuff. Men were men. They had chests. But you had things you liked too. Just like how men like tits and ass, you liked well-built pecs and forearms. Actually, you appreciated a nice ass and thighs too. And cute faces. Fuck, you loved a cute face.

“Uh, Jungkook…”

He looked up, questioningly. Big round brown eyes, his violet bangs framing his chiseled jaw, parted pink lips, the small mole underneath his lower lip looking so, so kissable, quivering slightly.

Fuck, Jungkook had a cute face.

His shirt was very open.

Fuck, his lightly tanned skin.

He was hesitating around a button, his deft fingers flexed, ink black tattoos standing out on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Your legs were slightly spread, thighs flush to your gaming chair. Half a second and Jungkook’s eyes flickered back up to your face, pretending he hadn’t been looking.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you really just gonna strip in my room and walk out asking Namjoon for a shirt and hope none of the six guys think anything about it?”

His eyes shifted around your room. Bed with black sheets and black velvet duvet. Television with your gaming consoles. Your collection of character figurines from various games. Your black denim jacket hanging on a hook, covered in monotone patches that you had sewn yourself, mostly occult-themed, skeletons, skulls, cats, ghosts, potions, eyeballs, that kind of thing. Back to your desk.

Your legs.

Really staring at your thighs, hips, and crotch.

Up your torso, your hands, your exposed collarbones.

Your face.

Guarding his expression, testing the waters.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said slowly. His eyes darted away and back, teeth catching his lower lip. “I really am hoping you can fix my shirt.”

You watched his face carefully, the flare of darkness in those brown orbs, a hint of naughtiness, dancing with danger. Jungkook had a mischievous streak. You could tell by the way he interacted with his hyungs, listening but talking back, helping them with things but not without a roll of his eyes or a smart remark added, probably because all his friends were older and he was the youngest. He knew he could get away with it.

In short.

Brat.

“What would you like in return, noona?” Jungkook purred, smile dancing on his lips.

Honorifics were supposed to honor you. Show a sign of respect and all that shit.

All I wanted to do was play video games, you grumbled internally. Not suddenly have a thirst fest for one of Namjoon’s best friends. You narrowed your eyes a little, seeing the smirk on that perfectly shaped mouth. He’s not stopping either.

Outside your room, something fell with a loud crash. Probably Namjoon by the depth of that startled yelp. Everyone else started laughing and a very loud, cheerful melody was blasting from the living room television. Nobody was coming to investigate you and Jungkook.

Yet.

“Turn around and ask for a shirt,” you sighed, waving a hand. “Then take off your shirt in the bathroom and then, only then, do you come back and give me your dress shirt.”

You saw Jungkook frown, not expecting that as your answer.

“Oh. Okay.”

He seemed disappointed, lowering his hands.

The silky fabric of the dress shirt slid off his right shoulder, partly revealing his tattoo sleeve and fully revealing his right collarbone and shoulder.

You sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to it. Then his face. Then back to his body. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Jungkook jumped, startled by the fallen fabric and reached over to grab the fallen collar. Your hand moved faster than you had time to think. You had good reaction time. It was the gaming obsession.

You slapped his hand down.

Jungkook squeaked, head snapping up, purple hair floating around him, gold chain on his neck glittering as he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Strangely, his chain resembled your sterling silver choker that you were wearing right now, except you also wore another necklace with a circular white gold pendant with your zodiac sign.

Not that anyone was ever close enough to inspect it.

“N-Noona?” he breathed, sounding strangely winded.

Shit.

You hadn’t meant to do that. Your body reacted faster than your head.

Shit.

Fuck, he had a nice body. His pecs. Even had a nice dark nipple – well, he probably had two, but you could only see one at the moment – and it all trimmed down to a slim waist and shapely hips. You could tell because of his tailored black slacks. He had been wearing a blazer earlier in the evening too. It was probably on a chair somewhere in the apartment.

Shit.

What did Jungkook need to look so damn good for?

“Where did you guys go to be dressed like that?”

Yes, you were really just going to interrogate him with his shirt dangling off like that.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip, the tiny mole underneath bouncing up and down as he spoke. “We went to a fancy hotel rooftop bar to celebrate Yoongi-hyung’s award that he won at the music show for producing that song–”

“Ah, right, Namjoon mentioned that earlier today.” Dress code must have been black tie.

Those dark brown eyes found yours, observing you carefully.

“I would have liked to see you there, noona.”

You stopped staring at the tattoos on his bicep and made eye contact. Fuck. Those eyes. Sparkling with deviousness. Trying to see how far he could push your buttons.

“I wonder what kind of dress would you have worn?” he murmured, musing to himself. “I bet you would have looked hotter than any girl there.” Jungkook smiled, playful and boyish. He wasn’t being sleazy about it. Every word was light and honest. “A tight little black dress? Maybe bright red? Short, because you have incredible legs. It would be a crime not to show them off.” He was only complimenting you. His tone wasn’t trying to be suggestive.

Yet.

You didn’t close your legs. You had nothing to be shy about.

Instead, you leaned back in your gaming chair as if it was a throne, resting your left elbow on the armrest and your chin on two fingers, thighs wide open, and your other hand in between them, fingers curled inward to your inner thigh.

Jungkook’s pink lips curved ever higher, ever more roguish.

“Whatever you would have chosen, you would have looked so, so sexy.”

You ticked your head.

“I know.”

Because you did.

Look here, Jeon Jungkook, I’m here minding my own damn business and you’re here inserting yourself into my life, so if you can’t handle me knowing my self-worth, you can fuck right off.

He reached up and tucked a bit of his purple hair behind his right ear, grinning at you.

“You sure you don’t want anything from me?” he asked, a slight flicker of pink tongue between white teeth. “I can give first and then you can decide whether or not you want to help.”

Honestly, those sultry eyes could stop a heart.

You removed your hand from your chin, tapping the air with those two fingers in a dismissive manner.

“Hm.”

Outside, Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were singing a soulful duet and Park Jimin was hooting at inappropriate moments to ruin the atmosphere as much as possible. That raspy, breathless laugh was Min Yoongi, who was probably doubled over on the floor in his expensive suit. Classic genius music producer of the year behavior right there.

Jungkook tucked his hands in his pockets, shirt sleeve falling down, revealing his blacked-out inner elbow. Mountains with a dark sky. It must have hurt, doing something like that. Still, he did it. For aesthetics?

You heard the smirk rather than seeing it, mostly because you were looking at his body.

“I would look so damn good on you, noona.”

Alright.

You closed your eyes slowly and reopened them to look directly into those dangerous, dangerous eyes.

“Lock the door.”

Not really an order. More of a statement. Jungkook could do it or not, you knew. He couldn’t be coerced to do anything. He did things because he wanted to do them. He was nice because he wanted to be nice. He was childish when he wanted to be childish.

And.

Jungkook was obedient when he wanted to be obedient.

He turned around, went to your bedroom door, and locked it.

Well then.

He came back and stood in front of you. A little closer now.

You cocked an eyebrow. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

Jungkook smiled down at you. “I’m sure they will.”

You frowned, lowering your hand to tap the end of the armrest. “They’re going to think I started this.”

“You kind of did.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply. He grinned, taking a step closer.

“Because it’s not my fault you look so good,” Jungkook breathed, voice deepening, leaning down, your expression unchanging, not pulling back but not encouraging anything either. “Not my fault your body is hotter than a summer. Not my fault your confidence is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your thighs were still as open as his shirt.

Jungkook put his knee in between them.

His dress shirt was basically almost completely off his body now, falling off the left shoulder too and dangling off his forearms, exposed collarbones and shoulders, tan skin taut over muscle. A delicious body line, so fucking close to you that you could feel the heat. You still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to do anything. You didn’t prompt this. You were simply minding your own business commanding a snake lady to victory, not expecting to get seduced by a mischievous bunny-like smile and a tiny black mole under a cute pout.

“I can’t help myself around you.”

You usually didn’t say more to Namjoon’s friends than a mere hello, not wanting to bother them with your presence. They were all men after all. You expected them to want bro time or whatever. Also, you were too busy being obsessed with men that didn’t exist in real life to pursue men that did exist in real life.

At least League of Legends had 3D models so no one could say you lived only the 2D lifestyle.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t partake when the dinner laid themselves out to be eaten. They often had to, because you wouldn’t pay attention otherwise.

Purple hair drifted into your vision, surrounding you in a curtain of violet and dark brown eyes, warm exhale and trembling pink lips, trapping you in Jungkook’s gaze, but you refused to relent, keeping your gaze even. Steady breaths to disguise your racing heart.

You kept your hands closed to prevent him from seeing your shaking fingers.

“Every time I see you, I want you to touch me,” he whispered, trying to hide the edge of nervousness by lowering his voice, enticing you to lean in to hear him better because someone was wiping a damn window in the living room outside your door or was that Kim Seokjin laughing?

There was no difference.

Jungkook’s forehead touched yours and you stopped thinking about Seokjin.

“I just want you to feel me up, rip my clothes off, and fuck me until I can’t think straight. Use me, abuse me, wreck me, ruin me,” he shuddered, definitely thinking about it, and one blink and you spied the obvious tent in his pants.

“Maybe I’m a lazy girl,” you finally said, touching your nose to his, inhaling his breath, a little bit of alcohol, a little bit of fruitiness, and that hint of cologne, fresh, clean, and intense. Something else too. Musk, maybe his pheromones or something like that. Whatever it was smelled fucking delicious, just like you. What did your perfume smell like? Spiced fire blended with addictive sweetness.

You shrugged casually.

“Maybe I’m a pillow princess.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“I can tell you’re not.”

You had to smirk.

Of course, you weren’t.

You closed your thighs around his knee and squeezed, raising to your tiptoes. He gasped softly, shivering at the simple touch of your soft thighs pressing around his muscular leg. It was disturbingly noisy out there, but here it was silent, pared down to your breathing and Jungkook’s breathing, mixing together, blazingly hot, closer, closer, doing the careful dance, daring each other to make the move that was so obviously going to happen.

“What are you gonna say when they ask you where you’ve been all this time?” you whispered, avoiding letting your lips brush against his.

“The truth.”

His tongue flickered out and barely touched your lips.

You didn’t make a sound.

Jungkook moaned, the sound drifting into your throat, and you could taste his desire.

“I tripped and fell into your lap.”

Your lips curved into a smirk.

He kissed you.

His hands on the armrests of your rolling chair, pushing it back into your desk, pressing his lips to yours, inhaling deeply, wanting to breathe you, wanting to taste you, wanting you, shivering as you finally touched him with your hands, but this was you, and your first touch wasn’t going to be wasted on a conventional innocent touch.

Your fingers closed in on his rock-hard erection and stroked him through his pants.

Jungkook moaned your name right in your mouth, eyes half-lidded, his violet hair encircling your face as he rolled his hips into your palm, whining deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes, noona, play with me…”

You flitted your tongue between his lips and he chased it, begging you for more, and yet you continued to tease, light flicks between those soft pillows, nipping at them, even pushing up his lower lip so the tip of your tongue could draw a small heart around that mole, kissing it, so gentle, so delicate. His entire body shook, your hand palming his hardness through his pants, nails scraping against his balls, caressing all of it, acting like you owned it. Jungkook was certainly humping your hand like you did.

“You only want me because I didn’t want you,” you taunted, not bothering to hide your smirk and your slight disapproval.

“That’s not true,” he panted, attempting to get you to touch his chest, pushing you back into your chair, and yet you kept the fingers of your free hand on the cusp of what he wanted, heat close but no contact, causing him to whimper every time your fingernails barely nicked his skin. “I want you because you’re pretty, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

Hm, that sounded familiar.

“I want you because I love watching you play your favorite games,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your lips, nose to nose. “I want you because I love that little smirk you make when you do something good. I want you because I love that aggressiveness that comes out and how you seem to lose your filter. Shit, it’s so fucking hot when you’re focused. Makes me wanna see your face when you’re pinning me down and having your way with me. Makes me want to obey you and disobey you at the same time, because I want you to reward me and punish me, I just can’t decide, fuck, you make life so hard for me.”

He punctuated hard by violently humping your hand, rattling your desk with his force.

Outside you heard Namjoon yelling “CANNONBALL” and throwing himself onto that giant gray furry beanbag you paid far too much for about six months ago. It was now a household party favorite, due to its massive size and fluffiness. At the moment, it sounded like a pile of six guys in semi-formal clothing was beginning and, instead of watching this heap of hot dudes being constructed, you were making out with the seventh guy’s face and grabbing his dick.

You’ll take this trade.

You felt Jungkook’s hands groping around, undoing his pants and the zipper, trying to get you to touch more, more, desperate for you to be all over him.

“P-Please… please, I don’t know when they’re going to notice…” he pleaded. “You’re so close, so close, ah, I can’t think, please…”

“Shh…” you soothed. “The door is locked.”

Your fingertips finally touched his chest, not disappointed in the slightest when you touched those delicious-looking pecs. They felt just as nice under your palm, his pounding heart and wanton moan vibrating up your arm.

“Aren’t you a needy little brat trying to distract me from my games, hm?”

Your fingertips hooked over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to have to face the consequences, Jungkook.”

You said his name like a delicious sweet about to be eaten, growl in your throat as you yanked down his underwear, capturing his lips, robbing him of his cries as you clawed down his chest, grasping his cock and pumping him, long, complete strokes from base to tip, curling your fingers around his balls, juggling them with your fingers teasingly as he squirmed and groaned. Your free arm shot around his back, digging your nails into his spine, not letting him get away. His black dress shirt was falling, falling to your floor, his bluish-purple hair in your face and his strong hands on your shoulders, sliding down, kneading your breasts through your clothes, whining that you were still wearing a bra – of course, you were, six dudes were coming over and they didn’t need to see your magnificent nipples on display, although clearly one of them wanted to see – and he was trying to get to the hem of your shirt, but you smacked his hands away, building the pressure and speed, pre-cum leaking between your fingers and adding slickness to lessen the dry friction.

Fuck, you could smell him and he smelled so fucking good.

“Noona, please…” Jungkook gasped, hands on the armrests of your chair, tipping his head back at the pleasure, pants at his fucking knees, chest, crotch, thighs on display. “This is… embarrassing…”

He meant him being mostly naked and you being dressed.

You shrugged, acting indifferent. “Not for me.”

He whimpered at your words, so noticeably dominant despite not using an aggressive or commanding tone. Either that or he was very invested in you jacking him off. You suspected it was a combination of the two, considering how eagerly his cock twitched when you answered.

“What should I do, Jungkook? Should I let you cum? Or should I play with you and stop, make you put your clothes back on and walk out there, desperate to be finished off?” you mused aloud, running your nails up his back, not that hard, but he leaned back into it so they sank into him, wordlessly begging you to do it harder, so you did, setting your jaw and scratching at his back, forcing him back into position. His cock throbbed in your hand, pulsating wildly.

Hm, he really loved it, huh.

“P-Please… wanna cum, please don’t be mean…” he gasped, thrusting his hips into your punishingly tight grip.

“Hm, why does it matter? You’ll just run to the bathroom and finish yourself off anyway, right?”

“Want you to do it, please,” he begged, his long hair curling around his jaw, dark purple locks framing the sharpness, lashes fluttering as you rubbed your thumb against the underside of the head, smearing pre-cum over the slit. “Your hand feels so good, so fucking good, better than I thought, please, I need you to touch me or I can’t get off, please…”

You removed your hand.

Jungkook cried out in denied despair, pitch hiking, the sinful sound clearly audible despite the debaucherously loud ruckus outside your bedroom door that included not one, but two people howling like werewolves for some unknown reason. At this point, you were mildly curious.

But you had a job to do.

He grabbed the front of your shirt, almost sobbing with need. Somehow his violet hair was a mess and you hadn’t even touched it. It cascaded over one of his eyes, an indigo curtain, the other chocolate orb shaking and pupil dilated, black prominent in the dark brown.

“Please don’t–”

You shoved two fingers from your right hand into that pleading mouth and raised your left.

He choked, gagging a little on your fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and licked your palm, slathering it with a thick layer of slick saliva.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the dirty action and then rolled back into his head as you wrapped your hand around his aching cock once more, now covered in saliva, swiftly and fervently jacking him off, hard, fast, tight, nearly choking his cock, pushing his chin up and his chest to your hungry mouth, tongue and teeth and lips, all over those dark nipples hardening under your persistent touch, heedless to his rising moans, so very obvious now what was happening in your bedroom.

It didn’t bother you at all. Jungkook walked in here and asked you to wreck and ruin him, so you did exactly what he asked you to do, leaving harsh bite marks and slippery saliva all over his soft skin, your perfume rubbing off onto his body, coating his chest in your scent and his pulsating thick length with your spit, and he was so fucking hard that you were impressed, feeling his mouth suck on your fingers desperately and wetly, your name a messy garble above your head.

“Fuck, yes, umpf, oh fuck, I’m so close, so close, gonna cum, goona cum for you…!”

“Jungkook?”

You had no idea who called his name through your door, because the next second Jungkook was pitching forward and shooting his cum up your thigh and chest, thick white strings painting your leggings and band t-shirt, soaking into the fabric and creating a sticky mess on your skin, your head lifting in response to his movement to avoid knocking into him, your fingers sliding out of his lips, strings of saliva snapping as they left, and suddenly Jungkook’s face was in your face, his lips on yours in a passionate kiss, rutting into your hand to increase the sensitivity, shoulders and hips flinching, whimpering gratitude and ecstasy into your mouth, his hands in your hair, kissing you deeper, more ravenously, ignoring the questioning voices, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm.

You heard Namjoon say outside your door, “I think he made his move.”

You asshole, at least warn me, you thought irritably.

“You’re so good… so good, exactly what I need… I knew you would be… fuck…”

You thrust your tongue into his lips once and backed off, chuckling as he whined for more.

“Go ask for a shirt.”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, violet hair flying everywhere. Your hand was still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, his cum dripping onto your wrist. His ears were turning red.

“I can’t… They know something is going on…” he mumbled, scooting closer to you, as if your body heat could somehow mask the fact that you just jacked him off with six of his friends standing outside your bedroom door whispering.

“Maybe you wanted them to know.”

You squeezed his ass and he trembled, clutching your shoulders.

“Easy way to tell them that you want to be owned by me, right?”

You could tell by the way his eyes were darting around rapidly that the thought crossed his mind more than once.

“Jungkook.”

You said it loud enough for a keen ear to hear it if they were really eavesdropping. You looked up at Jungkook, his eyes immediately fixating on yours because of your tone.

In control, not to be questioned.

“Get on your knees.”

Dead silence outside your bedroom.

“B… but…”

His cheeks flushed pink.

You took his chin and pulled him down to your face, murmuring to that mole under his lips, pecking it daintily, almost innocently, his wispy moan drifting over your nose. Your words were barely above a whisper, only for him.

“You made a mess. Clean it up.”

You stroked Jungkook’s chin with your thumb, your other hand tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, so be a good boy for me right now and I’ll let you be a bad boy in bed.”

His head tilted and Jungkook whispered your name into your mouth, drenched with desire.

You smirked, stroking his jaw fondly.

He got to his knees, in between your open thighs, leaning forward, subservient eyes on your face as his pink tongue extended, licking at his own cum staining your clothes, eyes closing at your hand on the top of his head, not directing the movement, but reminding him who was in charge here, reminding him with nails in his scalp that he was going to be fucked until he couldn’t think straight.

Used, abused, wrecked, ruined.

-

“I don’t wanna.”

“We both know you do.”

“But I want to fuck you,” Jungkook protested, speaking softly because everyone was sleeping, or at least it seemed that way, not that either you or Jungkook cared, because you were forcing him to his knees on your bed, pushing his torso back, nails digging into his chest, towering over him, his naked body already covered in your bites and scratches, focused on his inner thighs and chest, none on his neck because that’s where he wanted it the most.

And you knew it.

“Noona, please…”

He said please a lot for someone who did not, in fact, want to be pleased, but tortured.

You grabbed him by the chin, cocking an eyebrow.

His hands were behind him, arms shaking as they held him up, shivering delightfully under your petrifying gaze.

“Please what? Hm? Saying please when you come crawling into my room, begging for dirty things with your friends right outside, saying please when you interrupt me and distract me, jeopardizing my chances to win my game?”

You leaned in close, you knowing you were only crafting a scene, him knowing that you didn’t actually care, but Jungkook wanted to hear the words, wanted you to put that malice in your tone to caress his ears, wanted you to cannibalize his sanity and put him in a different headspace, his cock already responding to it, bobbing in the air, purple-red and achingly hard from multiple orgasms, and he still wanted more.

“Saying please so you can say please when you’re under me, helplessly begging me to let you cum?”

You could hear his whines vibrating under your fingertips, pupils blown wide, lower lip trembling, begging you already, such a needy little thing, those lovely brown eyes full of submission, muscles tense with anticipation, every passing second spiraling him into increased frustration, because instead of doing anything, you were only smirking wider and wider, pushing his head back.

“Well? Tell me if you’re a dirty boy or not. Maybe I’ll do what you want.”

His violet hair cascaded to his shoulder blades, his low moan coursing through your fingertips and the heated air of your bedroom.

“Y… Yes, I’m a d-dirty boy…”

“Noona,” you prompted.

Just because you could.

His lips curved into an open smile, two of your fingers hooked over his lower lip, fingertips rubbing his tongue. Your thumb nail pressed into his mole.

“Noona.”

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, which was not advisable unless you were the kind of person that practiced that for hours on end, spending an obscene amount of money on unused condoms to perfect your technique, because nobody wants a broken condom or lube in their teeth. Why would you want to learn such a thing? You were a stickler for details. A perfectionist in perfecting a perfect display of raw dominance.

You spat out the torn corner onto Jungkook’s chest and he whimpered, unashamedly amazed.

Your left hand removed the condom from the package and your right slid out of his mouth and encircled his neck.

You inspected the condom, lazily turning it to the correct position, fingers pressed to the sides of his neck, leaving plenty of space for his trachea between your thumb and forefinger. You didn’t bother looking at his face. Instead, you spread your legs, poised and naked over him and his throbbing cock.

Your right hand started choking him.

Your left hand started rolling the condom down his thick, hard length.

Your name leaked out of his lips in a thin gurgle, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Say please, Jungkook.”

A sharp, distinct order.

“P… Please…” he gasped out, chest shuddering.

Your hand tightened around his throat and your pussy clenched around his cock as you forced yourself down on him.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck…”

You didn’t bother asking if he liked it. His vicious fisting of your sheets and trembling body, cries and cock included, told you everything you needed to know. You only watched the color of his cheeks, knowing there were limits to how long you could choke him. Therefore there was no time to be wasted, already starting your favorite pace, rough and hard, filling yourself with that delicious cock built to take your abuse, jaw set, gripping his throat, blood pounding under your fingertips, slapping hips to crotch, heat sparking though your veins, hotter, hotter, your smirk growing more and more smug, tongue tracing your lips as you witnessed Jungkook’s descent into sin, raising his head so he could watch you bounce on his cock with hazed brown orbs, mouth open, tongue lolling out, circulation thinning, purple hair wild around that cute, distressed face.

You let up the pressure on his neck, dark snicker rumbling in your chest.

“This pussy worth it, brat?”

The rush of missing blood into his brain, the suffocating pleasure of your pulsating walls wrapped around his twitching cock, your authoritative growl and merciless words tearing through him – you saw it all taking over Jungkook, forced to respond honestly from pure instinct because there was no time to compile pretty words or a smart comeback.

“Yes, noona, yes, I love it, I love it, this brat fucking loves what you do to him…”

You immediately choked him again and slapped your pussy onto his cock like you were whipping him.

His eyes rolled back and a wild moan tore out of his chest, cut off by your hand.

The bed creaked under you, bearing the weight of your roughness.

“I know you love it,” you snarled, leaning in, fucking him into your bed with vigor, straining his knees, so uncomfortable and so comfortable for him at the same time, pain and pleasure, clearly something he craved and loved from how hard he was. “You said you need me to touch you or you can’t get off.”

You knew that couldn’t be true.

Jungkook probably got off hundreds of times thinking about you, otherwise he wouldn’t be so ecstatic about you violently riding his dick right now.

His teeth sank into his swollen lower lip, staring at you through his lashes, his voice a thin whisper laced with insatiable need.

“I can’t cum without you anymore.”

You removed your hand.

Your hips stopped abruptly, fulling sheathing his cock inside you.

“No!”

His shout was so loud and desperate that you had to conceal your surprise, not expecting the frantic ferocity of his tone, nearly an agonized sob as he grabbed your upper arms in a crushing grip, his indigo locks crashing into his high cheekbones, sticking to his sweaty face and sharp jaw. It took everything in you to stay calm, everything to not give in and let him have what he wanted. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was knowing the role you were playing, maybe it was the sadistic side of you, who the fuck knew, but there was only a beat of hesitation, a second of you staring into those beautiful dark brown eyes, so perfect.

Just perfect.

Perfectly wrecked, willing to do anything in this moment for you to continue.

Before he could utter a peep of a plea, you shook out of his grip and seized his head, crashing his lips onto your neck.

Jungkook bit you.

Instant, searing pain, taking out all his sexual frustration on your neck, sucking at the skin, hot tongue lapping, groaning, moaning, half-crying because you didn’t move. You just sat on his dick and forced his mouth onto your neck, gleefully savoring his despair, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the pleasure, his hands and nails digging into your waist, his teeth latched to the side of your throat, his stiff cock shuddering inside you, your tight heat keeping him hard but not letting him cum, repeatedly squeezing the engorged head brutally, driving him insane.

Insane.

You could feel his lips move, but you muffled his words, pushing his head into your neck.

Please.

Deep inhale, his wonderful scent filling your nose.

Please.

Riding the high that was Jungkook’s desire for you, fingers tangled into violet strands.

Please.

He felt so, so good, spoon-feeding the dom in you with his tiny whimpers and distraught sniffles.

“P… Please…”

You pressed your lips to his hair, murmuring his name sweetly.

“Jungkook.”

No quiver to your tone, only serene calm.

“Noona…”

His hands slid up your back as your hips began to rock, slow, so painfully slow, building the frenzy layer by layer, his hardness swelling inside you, his soft lips pressed to his hickey onto your neck, even more turned on because he knew you let him mark you, he knew in this moment you were his and only his, everything he wanted and more, his hips rising to meet yours, deepening your thrusts, matching your force, burying his face into your skin and your scent, wanting nothing more than your command over his body.

You turned his head, tucking his hair behind one ear, speaking dark whispers into that curve.

“You look the best when on your knees for me, Jungkook.”

He shivered, your name falling sloppily from his lips, drunk from your power and lost in his service.

You let go of his head and grabbed his shoulders instead, putting all of your weight onto him, now letting yourself chase it, chase the orgasm that you had been building for yourself all this time, letting yourself feel Jungkook and feel the full force of the pleasure he gave you, because, yes, of course, you served him first before you, even if it didn’t seem like it.

Because when it came down to it, Jungkook came to you, opening himself petal by petal to show you his vulnerable side, testing the waters, hoping, wishing, praying that maybe, just maybe, you were the kind of person that he was expecting, wanting, needing, and you, knowing how difficult that was because, well, you had made it difficult, only focusing on games and not on those longing eyes that watched you whenever you came into his view.

Eyes that you looked into now.

Half-lidded, glazed over, fucked-out, still honest.

His large hands were still on your waist, holding you to him as you rode him with furious slaps, muscles flexed in his chest and arms, tattoos on his right arm tense and taut from holding this position for so long. He looked so good. Felt so good. Had an amazing cock.

And fuck.

Jungkook had a cute face.

You genuinely smiled.

“I’ll take care of everything,” you drawled, injecting your words with conviction and adoration.

That did it.

His lips parted, low groan emitting from his throat as his head tipped back, purple waterfalling onto his back, thrusting up into you and shooting into the condom with fierce jolts, unable to hold back any longer, his entire length flinching uncontrollably, sweet whimpers at his release, feeling sorry that he didn’t let you cum first, but that didn’t matter, because you rode through it, already there, falling, falling, your sigh like laden smoke as your orgasm slammed into you, welcoming the bolts of cruel pulses flying through you, concentrated onto your core, Jungkook’s moans hiking into pitched ecstasy at the convulsing clenches of his oversensitive, overused cock, arms embracing you tightly, hugging you for dear life, chest to chest, pounding heart against yours.

Your fingers tangled into his hair.

His hand fitted around your head.

Lips to lips and you took care of everything, claiming that mouth as yours, holding him up even though you were the one in his lap, your kiss onto that perfect mole under that pretty pout, cherishing every mumble of your name, lowering him onto your pillows, soft kisses in between. You took care of everything, lifting yourself off him, chuckling as he whined, pawing for you to come back, but you rapped his knuckles and calmed him, removing the condom and cleaning him off gently with a towel, soft kisses in between because he wanted the attention, deliberately not closing his eyes until you crawled back into the bed, tucking the covers around you and him, Jungkook immediately turning and yanking you into his chest, nose against your skin.

“Who’s the pillow princess?” you teased, ruffling his long violet locks.

His lips pressed onto your hickey, his mark on you, and he sighed in content, drifting into sleep.

-

In the morning, you found a pile of five guys in the living room sleeping in various positions on the giant gray furry beanbag and the sofa. Jungkook was in your bed, passed out. The last guy, Min Yoongi, was in Kim Namjoon’s room, sleeping on his bed, because he was a smart man and took advantage of a perfectly good bed that five drunk hooligans undoubtedly forgot about.

You chuckled and rubbed your neck as you brushed your teeth, seeing yourself and the large purple hickey Jungkook had made last night in the bathroom mirror.

You went back to your room after retrieving the sewing basket from the living room, spending the morning calmly stitching the small buttons back onto his black dress shirt as the seven guys in your apartment continued to snore away.

Then you went back to playing League of Legends.

Ah, Cassiopeia, I had an eventful evening, but I have returned to you.

-

drabble morning-after hungover breakfast

--

masterpost

[queenshelby]

My Friend’s Father (Part Nine)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Age Gap, Smut, Domestic Violence, Angst

Words: 3,064

Please comment and interact...it's what keeps this blog going

***************************

Almost a week had passed since you stayed with Cillian at his unit in Galway and, despite the fact that he was away, things had further developed between you as emotions grew with every day.

He was different to any man you had ever been involved with and, whilst your involvement with each other stemmed from purely sexual lust and hunger, you had evolved from this to something different entirely within a matter of days.

Of course, you knew each other for years and, whilst you had a crush on Cillian for as long as you could remember, you never thought that it would be like this and, for Cillian, this feeling had never been mutual.

Whilst he always considered you to be attractive and very intelligent and kind, he never felt any emotional connection or sexual attraction towards you, at least not until that weekend when you visited Denise, which was also the first time he saw you again after six months had passed.

On that night during which you slept with each other, he let his sexual hunger take over his reasonable thinking mind after he saw you, in his kitchen, making pancakes and you had since, quite openly, talked about it. He saw sleeping with you as a mistake but, ever since that night, he couldn’t get you out of his head.

For you, things weren’t just sexual anymore and you began to feel strongly for Cillian which worried you especially since he was open about the fact that he didn’t know where things were heading with you. The fact that you are his daughter’s friend and much younger than him clearly bothered him and he sometimes admitted to you that he felt strange about building such a strong connection with you. A relationship was not what he wanted but he liked you, a lot.

As such, during the past week, Cillian called you every day after he finished filming and you were talking to him more frequently than you were talking to Denise.

During his breaks, he would also text you and check in on you as you were in the middle of exams. He always remembered when you had a test and asked you how it went and, when you told him that you didn’t feel confident with your results, he reassured you that you probably did well and, even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. According to him, a pass is a pass and you needed to lower your expectations of yourself just a little.

To your surprise, he also remembered appointments you had scheduled and things that bothered you which meant that, unlike other men you had been with, he was actually listening and was interested in what you had to say.

Some nights, you had spent hours on the phone or Skype, joking about things you had encountered that day or talking about books, literature and music, which is something you both enjoyed.

Politics and social issues were other matters you could discuss endlessly and, even when you were of different opinions, you would be able to argue in the most satisfying way. Cillian always treated you as an equal and even opened up to you about his divorce from Denise’s mother recently.

Another thing you learned from Cillian was that Denise was brining along her friend Amalie to Manchester to stay at his apartment and, when you gave him a warning about her and her intentions, he reminded you that he only had eyes for you. In fact, he always showered you with compliments and all of his compliments were genuine and came natural to him, helping you immensely with your self-consciousness.

Unfortunately, whilst you enjoyed how engaging Cillian was with you every day, like a teenager in love, with the constant text messages and calls, your father soon got suspicious and confronted you about.

****

“Dad, I am almost 22, you don’t need to be spying on me” you said somewhat frustrated as he asked you who you were talking to every day.

“You live under my roof and you answer me young lady” he said harshly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes just as your mother stepped in, trying to calm him down. Your father was much older, approaching sixty and fairly old school in the way he expected you and your sister to behave.

“A friend…I am talking to a friend” you explained and your father asked again, telling you not to lie to him because he would know.

“And this friend of yours, you can’t meet him…you just text and talk? You can’t bring him to our house and introduce him?” your father asked along with a million other questions.

“No, I can’t. he lives in Dublin and I, most certainly, wouldn’t bring him into this…” you said somewhat irritated by the interrogation.

“Dublin, huh? So, you met him when you visited Denise?” he asked and you nodded.

“It’s not her brother, is it? Because I really don’t want you to get involved with him. I don’t like this family and their views” your father said harshly, causing you to chuckle.

“Their views?” you asked somewhat surprised and your father nodded.

“Yes, their views on what’s right and wrong. If I recall correctly, this girl you call your friend was going out with someone of the same gender for a while. God didn’t tell us to do this but her parents obviously didn’t have an issue with it which, apparently is called new age parenting. Everything is pro choice and lets their children decide what is best for them even if they lack experience” your father went on to say and you couldn’t help but shake your head at his absurd commentary but, he continued and you soon learned what had happened between your parents and Denise’s parents many years ago, before which your mother had called Denise’s mother her friend as well.

According to your father, Cillian had voiced his opinion to your father when it was found out that your sister was pregnant following a short affair with a man she had met through university.

Cillian’s ex wife had told your sister that she had options, causing your father to get rather angry with her, which is when Cillian stepped in, supporting what Denise’s mother had said.

She had offered your sister help but your father considered this to be a betrayal and, whilst your mother maintained contact with Denise’s mother for a while, your father refused to get involved with Denise’s family thereafter.

Cillian’s often all so public views angered him and he made this very clear. He didn’t want you to be involved with his children and you couldn’t help but laugh about the irony of it all when you found out about this incident.

“Jesus Dad, that was years ago and not everyone has to have the same views as you” you said before confirming that you weren’t seeing Denise’s brother.

“No, they don’t, but I am just looking out for you and, instead of acting the way you do, throwing yourself at guys with new age ideas, I would much prefer if you met a nice young catholic man” your father explained, causing your mother to fume in anger with him.

“Throwing myself at guys? Listen, I am not sure what slut you think I am but it’s nice to know that you think so little of me” you said before storming upstairs and into your room.

Having to deal with this crap bothered you and you knew that, when this semester came to an end, you could be moving out now that you saved enough money for a bond and rent.

*****

As the evening went on, you spent all of your time in your room, reading a book until, finally, at around 9 o’clock you saw a notification on Skype.

‘Hey Beautiful’ Cillian said as you picked up and popped in your headphones.

Cillian apologised for calling through so late and informed you that he was finally able to speak to Laura, the woman he was seeing before you.

He knew that you wanted to know about it and he had no problem telling you what you needed to hear while telling you that you had absolutely nothing to worry about.

It was Laura’s first day back on set after a week-long break and Cillian told you that she wasn’t exactly impressed when he stood her down.

‘She probably likes you…I can understand that’ you said calmly but Cillian told you that he was pretty clear with her about what this was between them.

‘Well, in retrospect, I shouldn’t have gotten involved with her’ he went on and you were quite happy to change the topic by this point and told him that you were aching for him.

‘Well, I am not sure that I can help you with that’ Cillian chuckled.

‘We could have Skype sex I suppose’ you giggled.

‘Skype Sex?’ Cillian laughed before telling you that he didn’t think that this would be a good idea since you were at home with your parents and you had previously complained about the thin walls of the house.

‘Oh Jesus Cillian, my father already thinks I am a slut, so I personally don’t care if anyone hears me getting myself off. I’ve got my earphones in and am the only one who can hear you and my door is locked’ you chuckled.

‘Your father thinks that you are a slut? Do you want to talk about that?’ Cillian asked concerned but you shook your head.

‘I rather not. You met him and know what he is like’ you explained.

‘I do. He takes God very seriously’ Cillian said before continuing on. ‘But, if you have problems at home you need to tell me please. You can stay at my apartment. I can get my house keeper to meet you there with the key’ he offered.

‘You said you were going to stay out of stuff between me and my parents just as I would stay out of matters between you and Denise’ you then said, reminding him on the conversation about your respective roles which you had three days ago.

‘Yes I did, but I can’t if I have to worry about you’ Cillian said firmly.

‘There is no need to worry Cillian. I promise’ you reassured him. ‘Well, actually, I need you to worry about my sexual needs right now’ you then went on to say with sly grin.

‘Through Skype?’ Cillian asked again somewhat concerned.

‘Yes’ you said with a cheeky smile as you settled more into your bed with your laptop.

‘Alright then, show me what you are wearing” Cillian said as he cut straight to the point.

‘Can you see?’ you asked as you adjusted the cam and showed Cillian your dark blue lingerie.

‘Very nice…but…I think you would look even better if you were naked, don’t you think?’ Cillian said somewhat nervously and you nodded in agreement.

‘Well, I suppose I should strip for you and you should strip for me’ you giggled as you seductively took off your bra slowly, showing Cillian your perky breasts through the camera.

You heard him inhale sharply as he watched you and took his t-shirt off at the same time, leaving him in nothing but his CK briefs.

Without words you then scooted back on the bed and removed your undies, allowing him to watch before you sat down on the bed, spread eagle and naked, giving him a good view of your mound.

‘Jesus Y/N, you are so fucking beautiful and sexy…touch yourself for me, nice and slow’ Cillian breathed out and you let his soothing voice wash over you, knowing what he was trying to do and happily helping him succeed.

‘Like this?’ you moaned as you began to run circles over your clit with your fingers.

‘Yes, just like that babe’ Cillian groaned as he shuffled down his briefs and you were finally getting a good look of his hard cock.

‘Oh god, I want to stroke your cock so badly’ you moaned as you seductively opened your pussy lips with your fingers, opening yourself up before reaching for the black vibrator you kept in your bedside table.

‘Well, someone's particularly horny tonight’ Cillian chuckled as he watched you play with your pussy, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You mumbled a small "mhm," and he laughed.

‘Good, that's exactly how I like you, so naughty and needy’ Cillian said as he slowly began to stroke his hard member.

You barely registered his words enough to answer with another "mhm," but your subconscious managed it. Your weak answer elicited another delicious chuckle from the other end of the line.

"Why don't you show me how this little toy of yours works?” Cillian then asked as he watched you eagerly.

“I was just waiting for you to ask” you giggled as you began to run your fingers along your stomach and back up to your chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps their wake before reaching for the vibrator and turning it on.

“Put into your sweet pussy babe, let me see it” Cillian groaned and you moan in response, barely processing his words but still understanding enough to answer and do what he asked.

"I bet your pussy is already dripping” he said as you slid the vibrator into you slowly. He was right, you could feel your wetness pooling.

“I am so fucking wet and I wish it would be your cock inside me” you moaned as you began to stroke the toy in and out of you.

Cillian was groaning on the other side, his eyes full of lust and desire for you and you let out a quiet moan as you watched him with the same desire and hunger while you were pleasuring yourself.

“Good girl, keep going…” Cillian tells you and you moan again hearing it.

“Tell me how much you are aching for my cock” he then said you moaned again.

“I want your cock so badly, fuck…I want your cum inside me, dripping out of my wet little pussy” you moaned, eliciting a groan from Cillian as he began to stroke his cock harder and faster.

“Such a naughty needy girl, aren’t you? I can’t wait to be inside you again and make you cum over and over again” Cillian said with a laboured breath and you are barely listening at this point.

“I want you to cum for me and show me this dripping pussy when you do…I fucking love hearing your moans, so fucking sexy…common babe….let go” Cillian said, knowing that you were close and your orgasm rolled over you as soon as the word 'cum' left his lips, and although your sensitive clit was screaming at your hand to stop, you couldn't.

‘Oh god fuck, yes…’ you moaned as you came hard and fast.

“That’s it babe, don’t stop” he instructed as your moans continuously spilled from your mouth, and you were not even sure what you were saying or if you were forming words at all. The only thing in your head is a deliciously heavy fog and Cillian’s voice guiding you to do what he wanted.

“Don’t stop, keep fucking your sweet little pussy babe” Cillian ordered as he knew you weren’t done and, just as he did, you let out a high-pitched moan, bordering on a scream, as an even stronger orgasm washed over your body.

‘Cum for me babe…I want to see all this cum’ you moaned in return, focusing on the delicious image in front of you as Cillian was stroking his cock and, just when you finally come back down you heard Cillian groan loudly.

“Fuck” he groaned as he stroked his cock hard and fast you watched rope after rope of cum spurt onto his stomach.

‘Oh god, what a waste, I want to lick your cum off your skin so badly” you breathed out as Cillian came down from his high slowly and used a tissue to clean himself up.

‘Stop saying those things or you have to stay on the line for another twenty minutes at least’ Cillian chuckled as he could feel his manhood stir again.

‘Well, I think you shouldn’t cum again until you come to visit me in Galway the weekend after next…I want you to save it all for me’ you said, causing Cillian to cock an eyebrow as he pulled his briefs back up.

‘Fat chance babe’ he chuckled, knowing that going without an orgasm for nine days would be rather difficult for him.

Eventually, after a lot of begging, he agreed to try but he wouldn’t be able to make you any promises to this effect.

***

The following day, you went to work and then university thereafter but, when you eventually returned home, your father was in a worse mood than ever before.

‘Can you explain this to me?’ he asked angrily as soon as you walked through the door and you couldn’t help but gulp when he pointed to a white box which he had placed on the living room table.

‘You went through my personal belongings’ you huffed out as the box contained some lingerie and intimate items, including toys, that you were hiding in the bottom of your dresser.

‘Again Y/N, this is my house, my rules and I don’t want my daughter to own filth like this’ he said, after having heard small pieces of your conversation with Cillian on Skype the evening before.

It was obvious to you that your father was appalled and you were outraged that he had been snooping through your room and, as you would later learn, had even tried to access your computer.

‘I can’t fucking believe you dad. These are my personal belongings and you have no right to go through them’ you huffed out and, just as you did, you could feel a sharp strike across your face.

‘Get this shit out of my house and talk to me with some respect’ he said harshly, leaving you speechless and in tears as he walked away, leaving your cheek burning red.

   Tag List:

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@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​

[cherryyharryy]

please write something about Harry overhearing the reader’s friend tell her that Harry doesn’t spend time with her that she deserves someone better they hang up b4 the reader can say anything like angst to fluff

Thank you for requesting!

This is 80's harry lol

WC: 2.4K

Harry pauses the music on his Walkman, slipping the headphones off his ears to rest around his neck while he fiddles with the key to his apartment.

She had spent the night—his angel. It had been quite the set up, since she still lives at home with her parents while finishing college, a little white lie was passed around to cover her absence. Harry wasn’t a secret by any means, but her parents weren’t the most open minded, and a small fib was easier to handle than trying to rehash the same discussion of y/n being a grown woman. It was hard enough for her to get their approval for college...one mountain at a time.

Harry’s ears burn as he sets the groceries down in the kitchen, the thought of her still tangled up in his sheets beckoning him back to his room, is enough to drive him wild. He doesn’t catch himself zoning out until the phone rings. He untangles his music off his shoulders and yanks the phone off the wall, but y/n has beat him to it, her soft morning voice greeting Caroline before Harry can utter a word.

His brain is too slow in making the connection that he should hang up. That he shouldn’t eavesdrop on his girlfriend’s private conversation. That he owes her the respect that her parents never give her. But he hears his name, specifically, he hears Caroline ask y/n how last night was, so the phone stays glued to his ear.

“Amazing,” she purrs, and Harry’s stomach flips. “We did it like, three times.”

The girls giggle, and Harry shuffles on his feet with a veiny blush spreading all over his body. He can imagine y/n draped in his sheets, phone cord wrapped around her fingers, just a few steps away from him

“Better be nothing short of amazing,” Caroline says, “with what little time he gives you anyway. Ugh, if Tony ever left me hanging as often as Harry, I’d dump him so fast.” She smacks her gum into the phone and Harry flinches. “He tried to ditch me one time to go see Scarface with Rob, and I was like, hell no, you’re taking me skating like you promised. Honestly y/n, you can do better. You’re surrounded by college boys, go find a future doctor.”

The phone almost slips from Harry’s hand, but he catches it and hangs it back on the wall, just in time for his entire world to start crumbling to his feet.

Did he really not spend enough time with y/n?

How long has this been a topic shared between them?

And why hasn’t she said anything before?

Harry stands in the middle of his kitchen, immobilized. He can’t lose her, especially not to something he can fix. She’s been his girl since they were sixteen, there’s too much history between them, or so he thought.

He files through the memories he has of them together, trying to quantify them, trying to see where he started slipping.

Maybe it’s when he took over his dad’s business? But she knew how demanding it would be, and always supported him. Or maybe it’s because they don’t go out as much? Between him managing an appliance store, and her working towards a bachelors, they often opt for nights on the couch watching SNL reruns.

His mind is foggy, and he doesn’t catch his bedroom door creaking open.

“H?”

Harry startles back to present, gripping the counter as y/n emerges from his room wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

“You okay? Look like a deer caught in headlights.”

“Mm, no, fine.”

“I heard you come in a bit ago.” She flicks her eyes over his kitchen, looking for the breakfast he had promised to make almost an hour ago.

“Didn’t want to be too loud.”

“Oh, alright.” She smiles, attempting to diffuse whatever awkward tension has settled in his home. “Well, cook away! I can help too.”

He grabs her wrist before she reaches the fridge. “No, I’ll make it for you. Go back to bed.”

“You sure?”

He nods, forcing a smile.

She peers back over her shoulder twice on her walk back to his room, hoping to figure out what’s going on, but learns nothing.

As soon as his door shuts, Harry flies around his kitchen, grabbing what he needs to make the fastest breakfast in the world.

He’s going to spend every free second he has with her, and doesn’t want to waste any if he doesn’t have to.

***

Harry knows he’s borderline annoying. And he knows his actions are beginning to appear creepy, if not bizarre. He tags along with y/n everywhere she goes now, even at the doctor where he almost followed her back to her exam. She gently placed her hands on his chest and told him that she would rather the doctor do the job, promising she’d be out in no time.

She’s been tiptoeing around him too, not sure what to make of his new routine of gluing himself to her side, hoping it will wear off and things will go back to normal.

But she waits and she waits, and normal never resurfaces.

“H, baby, I can’t concentrate with you so close to me.”

Harry looks offended, slipping his reading glasses off his nose and closing the book he was halfway through, giving her his full attention when he asks what she means.

Y/n peers around the library, not wanting to have this discussion so publicly, but too keyed up to wait any longer. “I’ve just noticed that you’ve...been a little clingy lately? More like a lot.”

“I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“You’re picking me up, and walking me to my classes—”

“Thought that was nice?”

“You don’t even go to this school. Listen, the sentiment is nice, but I’m starting to feel a little suffocated.”

Harry bites his cheek so hard he draws blood. “And what did Caroline have to say about that?”

“What?”

“I’m sure that nosy friend of yours had a lot to say about me when you brought this up.”

“Excuse me!”

“Quiet, please,” one of the staff members shushes y/n, “Or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Y/n ignores the snickers from a table of girls nearby, recoiling her embarrassment and turning it to anger. Her voice, although lowered, now drags out of her mouth in sharp tones. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I heard everything, that morning Caroline called my phone to talk to you about how crummy of a boyfriend I am.”

That morning, now a month ago, is hardly a memory in y/n’s head. She fights around for details of the conversation, but comes up empty handed. “I still don’t know what you’re talking about, and frankly, I don’t care.” She starts closing all her books and gathering her school work to shove into her bag.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

Harry blinks, fumbling for his next question as y/n hurries across the library. He’s quick to catch up with her, waiting until they’re outside where they don’t have to whisper. “Don’t walk, I have my car.”

He reaches for her shoulder but she shrugs it off. “I’m going home. My home, not yours.”

Harry freezes on the sidewalk. She continues on her way until she disappears around the building. A few students yell out at Harry, making fun of the guy who, from a distance, just got rejected. He flips them off and heads to his car, beating the steering wheel all the way back to his apartment.

***

“You’ve been studying an awful lot lately,” y/n’s dad comments from across the dinner table. “Do you have a big test coming up?”

“Hm?”

“You spend the night with Rayna almost every weekend.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have a lot of tests.” Y/n spoons a bite of mashed potatoes into her mouth, thankful neither of her parents went to college. It’s allowed for more stretched lies when she sleeps over at Harry’s. “Like a lot. Every week.”

Her mother hums from her seat, nodding to save her spot in the conversation while she finishes chewing. “We told you how hard it would be. But you wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s not—” “Shelly’s daughter just got a job as a receptionist, over at that dental office by the mattress store.” Her dad points at y/n with his fork. “You could ask her if she knows of any other places looking for a girl.”

“I’m not going to have a job where the requirement is girl.”

“You’re taking this too liberally, dear. Oh Lord, John, that school did just what you said.”

“No—”

“That’s what happens, girls go off to try and get a degree...and what for? What are you going to do when you get married and have kids?”

“Kids!?”

Her mom scoffs. “Well you’re not going to be able to raise children and work.”

“Are you two serious right now? It’s 1985, not fifty-five! Women go to college, they work, some of them don’t even get married! Or have kids!”

“When you were little you couldn’t wait to be a mom. Now all of a sudden you’ve changed your mind. That never would have happened if we hadn’t let you go off to that damn school.”

“Yes I’ve changed my mind! If it hadn’t been for that school, I never would have realized that it’s my own mind to change. It’s my own life to do whatever I want with, not yours.”

“Well I am—” Her dad is interrupted by the door bell echoing outside the kitchen. “One minute. We’re not done with this yet.”

Muffled voices stagger from the front door while y/n pushes the food around her plate. She hopes that whoever is at the door keeps her dad busy for a while. She knows her mom won’t have these types of conversations without him, which just showcases the lifestyle she is adamantly trying to avoid. One that was passed down to her parents, but y/n is determined to squeeze herself out of that narrative no matter what.

“Y/n!” her dad calls, “you have a visitor.”

Y/n peers up at her mom, both women exchanging confused glances before they go see who had arrived.

“Oh,” y/n says dully, “It’s you.”

Harry stands with his hands shoved into jacket pockets, peering at each family member before speaking. “Hey, uh, I was hoping we could talk. Privately.”

Y/n nods, and leads the way back through the kitchen to the back porch. She’s not really in the mood to be talking to him, or having this conversation, but right now he’s a free ticket away from her parents, so she accepts.

They sit halfway down the steps, just like they’ve done a thousand times before. Her on the right, him on the left. Usually his arm is thrown over her shoulder, and their knees bump together until Harry pulls her in so close that not even a breeze could fit between them, but now they’re both collected on their respective sides of the wooden step.

“Heard the new Prince song?”

Y/n rolls her eyes. “It’s been a week.”

“Exactly, a lot’s happened in a week. Prince came out with a new song, Michael Jordan’s rookie of the year, and there’s gonna be a Rocky four.”

“Did you come over to talk about everyone else’s good news?”

Harry sighs. “We’ve never gone a week without talking. Ever.”

“Well you really hurt my feelings.” She turns to look at him, tears welling up in her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even trust me, so you listen in on my phone calls—”

“That’s not—no. I picked up when you did.”

“But you still listened.”

“Okay yeah, but only because I heard my name.” He shrugs, a timid smile playing on his lips. “Wanted to hear what you thought about me.”

“I tell you what I think all the time. I’ve never kept my feelings secret from you.”

“It’s different.” He pulls his hands from his pockets and runs them through his hair, tugging on fistfuls of curls out of frustration. “But then when Caroline said all that, ‘bout me not spending enough time with you, it killed me.”

“That’s what this is about,” she sighs, more to herself than to Harry as the memory of that morning resurfaces in her mind. “You dork, what about what I said back?”

“I hung up. Didn’t wanna hear anything else after that.”

“I told her how wrong she was. How we spend lots of time together.”

“You did?”

“Mhm. She’s always bragging about her and Tony, like they’re the first two people to date ever. I totally rubbed our relationship in her face.”

Harry’s surprised by the gleam on his girlfriend’s face, and tries not to laugh. “What else did you tell her?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs, suddenly shy. “Can’t remember.”

“How convenient.” He nudges her knee with his, and she bumps him back.

Y/n exhales, dipping her head back to squint at the stars peeking out from a cloudy night. “My parents are driving me crazy.”

“They always drive you crazy.”

“Yeah but, more than usual. I got spoiled staying with you on the weekends.”

Harry hums, reaching his arm over to pull her into his side. “Maybe it shouldn’t just be weekends…”

“They would know something’s up if I stayed over on weeknights.”

“No, baby, I mean permanently.”

“Like moving in together?”

“Why not?”

She chews on her lip, trying to keep her smile hidden. “I don’t know...that’s a big deal. It’s a big step.”

“We can think about it. No rush.”

“It would be nice. To see each other whenever we wanted.”

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Wouldn’t have to ask your parents permission for anything.”

“Yeah…”

“Just me.”

“Hey!”

“I’m kidding, angel.” He kisses her forehead and takes her hand, helping her up.

Y/n’s parents are in the living room when the two are back in the house, and just the thought of continuing her evening here lights a fire under y/n.

“I’m going over to Harry’s,” she announces.

Harry drops her hand, just as surprised as her parents.

“Excuse me?” Her father turns the t.v. off and straightens in his chair. “I don’t think so.”

“Well I think so,” y/n defends. “Come on, Harry.” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

“Harry!” Her mother protests.

He looks over his shoulder just as he’s being led out the door. “Oh, you can call me Rayna.”

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

for @bend-me-shape-me 's SPN advent calendar 2020. prompt: phone calls and late night texts.

Cas isn't a serial texter.

And Dean's a-okay with it.

But for all that's worth, they sure seem to have a ridiculous amount of emotionally significant conversations via, or starting off as, texts. And most often, in the middle of the night.

*

>>> hello, dean. [12:07 am]

Dean jolts up at the sound, realizing he fell asleep still wearing his headphones, with the laptop on his lap (and a new episode of The Good Place playing) and rolls his eyes at himself, hitting pause before he can see what’s happening (because he has good reflexes, and because screw spoilers that’s why) and rummaging for his phone.

At this hour of the night, it has to be something important.

It doesn’t really strike him that Mechanical Engineering majors whose only other selfprofessed skill is air guitar aren't exactly the frontline warriors for midnight emergencies.

Cas's name shows up when he squints at the too-bright screen, and he sits up a little straighter.

<<< hey [12:09 am]

<<< you OK? [12:09 am]

The response is immediate.

>>> do you have peanut butter? [12:09 am]

And as if it's an afterthought, Cas adds.

>>> yes, I'm fine. how are you? [12:10 am]

Dean blinks.

<<< peachy. peanut butter? [12:10 am]

At least this time the response takes a while. Dean wonders if Cas realized it was midnight, and not exactly a time to run inventory on your best friend's stash of condiments.

>>> I ran out. [12:12 am]

Dean sighs, unable to help smiling.

It's not like he's a stranger to Cas's weird cravings when he's high. (There'd been this one time with pie and a traumatized Gas 'N Sip cashier that still sits heavy on Dean's conscience.) But he doesn't think Cas is supposed to be high right now — Dean's usually either invited or informed by an unspoken rule — which just means this is regular "jelly, not jam"-Cas, at his core a weird, persistently sleep-deprived economics major and astronomy nerd, that Dean may or may not have had a crush on for an embarrassingly long time, and who's also prone to grammatically perfect texting, deadpan, Disney references, and bluntness when the occasion calls for it.

<<< pretty sure i have some [12:14 am]

>>> :) [12:14 am]

>>> I'm coming over [12:14 am]

*

And weird as it may sound, that had turned out to be the night Cas told him he was gay. Said it had been a revelating moment, unprecedented and wholly unexpected — and apparently revelations come in pairs because it had been followed by an intense need for peanut butter, and the rest, he explained emphatically, was history.

Dean had just snorted, congratulated him, and brought out the fancier plates for sandwiches — shipped in from home instead of a sale at Target — all the while, repeating to himself in a loop, that this changed nothing between them, nothing at all, and Cas having the capacity to be attracted back to him didn't mean that he ever would be (or for hell's sake, he'd scoffed at his traitorous chick-flick-nonsense brain, is.)

*

The second time had been early — way, way too early and it was by pure chance that Dean was awake to respond at six friggin' am on a Sunday. Like, that’s practically nighttime. 

Goddamn stupidly-fit running-freak.

Dean picks up his phone blearily, tongue in cheek as he clicks on it.

>>> I miss you [6:28 am]

>>> I'd* miss you [6:29 am]

Dean's stomach twists, and he's not sure if it's in a good way, or a bad way, or what-the-sincere-fuck-are-you-talking-about way.

<<< what [6:32 am]

<<< wtf are you talking about? [6:32 am]

Nothing.

<<< cas? [6:33 am]

<<< dude [6:34 am]

<<< cas???? [6:34 am]

Dean swears at his screen, more queasy than irritated. He can't stop fidgeting, so gives up on lying down altogether and hoists himself to his feet. Better to get his friggin' toothbrush since he's already up, and now definitely awake. Cas was so paying for this later.

He comes back, mouth mint-fresh in theory but still tasting awful and of fear and dread, and practically sags when he sees his screen blare with two messages from Cas.

>>> sorry, I had to make a call. [6:42 am]

>>> I'm not taking the job. [6:42 am]

*

And that's how Dean finds out about Michael (Cas's oldest brother, entitled asshole) inviting Cas to join his and Lucifer's (second oldest, bag of dicks) firm the year he graduates — invite, of course, being a loosely used word here for expecting it blindly (out of some crap he calls 'loyalty') and being readily willing to manipulate him into it.

And it's how he finds out that Cas turned them down.

"It's not who I am anymore." Cas had repeated, third time probably, and surer than before, and Dean had nodded earnestly before realizing Cas couldn't see him through the phone, and humming his affirmation instead. "And if I go back there, I'm never getting out again."

Dean'd swallowed.

"I don't want to." Cas had said, voice trembling. "I am — my own person here. It shouldn't be like this but this is the first time I have autonomy, Dean. Here is free will, and here are you. I don't — I can't. I'm not going to let them take it away."

"Good." He'd sounded shaky to even himself. "Don't."

"Yes." Cas had promised. "I'm not going."

*

And eventually they'd moved past the heavy talk into why-didn't-I-hear-about-this-before territory, Dean being righteously annoyed at his best friend for keeping something so huge from him, and Cas making lame (but probably valid) excuses in the name of not knowing how to explain the situation until he knew himself what he was going to do, because Dean may've been the first person he'd confided in about the insane fuckery that been his childhood and adolescence, but that still didn't mean he'd understand this, broken and convoluted.

And then Cas had nicely segued himself out of Dean's target of irritation and added, "They asked Gabriel too, by the way."

"And?" Dean didn't ever have much care for Gabriel (third oldest brother, cares about Cas, still a jerk) but Cas shared an apartment with him, so he had to face him plenty.

"He's running off to Miami."

And Dean had thrown his head back and laughed until Cas had smoothly added, "And I was wondering if you would consider moving in with me." 

At which point, of course, he'd started coughing instead, because holy shit, it actually made sense (Sammy had left for Stanford two months back, and Dean lived alone in a space that had probably been two big even when there were two of them) and might actually happen, but Dean wasn't really sure how much longer he'd be able to hide his crush, sharing a friggin' kitchen with the guy.

*

The third time's after their first date.

(Because, well. It happened.

It happened with Dean leaning across the breakfast table to prove to Cas his bacon was superior (to cookie friggin' crunch, because goddamn is Cas a dork) and Cas taking a bite with their eyes fixed on each other's, and Dean turning red when Cas licked his lips and then, just like that, Cas swearing under his breath (definitely filed for later pondering, that bit), grabbing Dean, and kissing the living daylights out of him.

And Dean had kissed back with everything he had, hands cupping his face, and nearly melting in his arms - but then they'd separated for air and Cas had had an apologetic look on his face and when Dean had tried to lean in to kiss it away, he'd received half a smile and a shake of his head.

"Let's do it the way we're supposed to."

And Dean had known immediately what he'd meant. Let's not fuck this up by becoming best friends and roommates who sleep together. Let's...play safe.

"Okay. Uh," he'd rubbed the back of his neck. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

"Thursday." Cas had promised with twinkling eyes, though Dean had already known he was going to say that since he knew Cas’s week at least as well as he knew his own, and two days and an anxious half of a thursday later, they went on their first date. Burgers and beer, and Led Zepp, and hands held in the Impala. Four hours later, they were back, and in their respective rooms, and Dean couldn't stop thinking about Cas.)

When his phone vibrates, Dean reaches for the bedside table.

It's at least midnight, it feels like he's been in bed for ages, and the only reason he isn't asleep is because all his brain seems to be capable of at the moment is thinking endlessly about the date. Fortunately, he's not the only one — although he's better at hiding it (practise, he'd say) because his heart is in his mouth the moment he reads Cas's text.

>>> I think I'm falling in love with you [11:43 pm]

>>> already. [11:43 pm]

Dean is very grateful for autocorrect as he types back with too-excited thumbs and a racing heart.

<<< so much for doing it the regular way cas mosby [11:44 pm]

>>> in my defense, it's been years. [11:44 pm]

<<< that part i get [11:44 pm]

<<< me too [11:44 pm]

<<< but youre supposed to wait three days before calling dumbass [11:45 pm]

Jesus, he'd never expected to blush cause of texts, but here they are.

>>> I'm texting. [11:46 pm]

And he guesses he'd never expected to giggle (he's alone there, sue him) cause of them either, but Cas apparently exists to prove him wrong about himself.

<<< good for you [11:46 pm]

He sends, biting his lip, and then lies in the silent darkness for a couple of minute, devoid of text notifications entirely, thinking uneasily — before he gives up.

They're idiots, sure, but nobody is this dumb.

<<< so when the fuck are you coming over then [11:50 pm]

>>> on my way <3 [11:50 pm]

And thinking about the lightening speed of that reply and the fucking heart emoji is enough to sustain him the entire one minute it takes Cas to get there, gently opening Dean's door, and climbing into bed — fitting in Dean's space like it's been made for him, and kissing him in greeting after leaving his phone on the table next to Dean's.

*

As it goes, with the confessions and the midnight cravings (and the grocery lists that keep getting piled onto through the day, and random pickup lines Cas decides are perfect to send Dean daily once he's found a website for puns, courtesy of Claire, and of course, pictures of Grease, which clog Dean's cloud in dozens whenever the ridiculously cute cat does something even slightly out of routine, god bless her lazy soul) Cas might just be a texter.

But Dean's pretty sure he's more than okay with it, so it doesn't really matter.

[maybe-your-left]

ASK FRIDAY - CREATE A SCENARIO: roommates trope with Kylo

Due to some last minute room swapping and late registering Reader and Kylo end up in the same dorm but they're mad about it and hate each other (cue intense sexual tension)

Dorm room, Snowed in, evening time like 6

The heater/power has just gone out and Kylo knows a few ways to get warm...only if Readers up for it...

been working on this for FOREVER ANON. 

I loved it! 

Crushed

TW: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes, exhibitionism, kinda fluff, Kylos not that nice and is an entitled man.

Oh yeah, you fuckin’ slut. 

Yes-Yes-Yes! 

‘M gonna cum all over your fucking tits.

You slapped the wall next to your bed, hard. 

“Can you guys keep it down! It’s 1 in the morning!” 

Muffled voices came through the paper-thin wall, sounding like bodies moving to the floor. Good, you thought, at least he will get rug burn from the shitty carpet, might keep him from fucking everything that moves. 

A hard knock on the wall pulled you from that thought. 

“Go read your fucking Bible! I’m trying to get my dick wet!” 

“Please!” 

“Why don’t you go get fucked!?” 

Some giggled came through next, followed by more muffled whispering. You whined loudly, trying to ignore the sounds of him fucking whatever bimbo your dormmate had in his lair. Shoving your face into your pillow, muffling your tears and wails. 

You turned on your TV, drowning out the final act of his performance. Fingers poised over your keyboard to file another noise complaint with the RA… not like they ever helped you. The last time they intervened they left with a black eye and broken nose, shrugging for you to sort it out yourselves. 

A door slammed shut, you let out a sigh of relief. 

At least he wasn’t a cuddler. 

You climbed out of bed, tip-toeing to your door to take a peek of whatever slut found her way into his room this evening. The special lady was a new cinderella every fucking week, he didn’t even try to know their names. You heard him admit it once in class to his friends, saying he called them all ‘baby’ so he wouldn’t have to learn. 

You peeked out the door, blinking from the harsh fluorescent lighting of your dingy dorm halls. The walls were a screaming white, yellowing from years of shoddy cleaning. You tried to clean your room when you first came to school, but it was too disgusting. 

A non-smoking dorm, ha. Everyone smoked, especially your neighbor. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed creeper?” 

You jumped at his voice, exhaling harshly through your nose. You steeled your features, caught red-handed looking for his latest prey. Crossing your arms defensively, not that there was anything to hide. You were in your ratty pj’s, they were on sale at Old Navy a few years ago and you never threw them away even though they barely fit anymore. 

“If you’re so interested in being a cuck,” he grinned at you, flashing his crooked teeth, “I would love to have you over for an encore, I’m sure you’d love to watch me in action.” 

“Buzz off, Ren.” 

“Ooo, angry tonight,” he smirked, now stepping out of his door frame. You choked a little at his appearance, no shirt on, basketball shorts barely hanging off his hips. Dangerously low, seriously, if he took one wrong move they would be on the floor. His chest was covered in fresh scratch marks, no doubt from his latest victim, a sheen of sweat glistening under the lights. 

Fuck, he was good-looking. 

But he was terrible. 

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, daring you to stare back at him. 

You gulped, caught again. You were better than that, you were just tired from being kept up since ten with his version of ‘love-making’. 

“My eyes are up here cupcake,” he stepped forward. Pushing you back into your doorframe, almost inside your sanctuary. “If you ever decide you want to break your vow of chastity, I’m right next door.” 

“Step away from me, Kylo.” 

He cocked his brow, “I love when you’re mean, come on. Let’s see if kitty has claws.” 

You bared your teeth, fists balling under your underarms, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth.” 

He shrugged, backing away from you. 

“Deal, bitch.” 

You moved to shut your door on him, “Go away.” 

“See you in class, bright and early.” 

------ 

When you imagined leaving for college, it was different. 

Saying goodbye to your parents, packing your car with whatever small valuables you owned. Determined to make a name for yourself all the way across the country, no friends or family, truly on your own. You imagined everything would be different, the dorm would be filled with new and friendly faces. 

RA’s greeting you as you parked outside, giving you a tour and maybe a group lunch with all your floormates. Getting to know each other, maybe even going to some new-student orientation event they planned for the newbies. 

Classes were smooth, acing all your major requirements. Professors were kind and ready to help you at any moment, letting your artistic vision flow through your body every morning with your 8 AM yoga class. 

But no. 

Instead, you registered late. 

Your classes all at the worst times, bright and early. 

Second rate dorm, COED even… smelly dudes between your single bedroom which would be better defined as a broom closet. Burping and fucking on both sides of you while you tried to study. Your major requirement classes were boring and filled with pretentious art students who thought they were the next Picasso. 

Professors didn’t care if you lived or died, only focusing on the bell schedule because they couldn’t control what the freshmen did in their classes. 

Your options for clubs were limited, either join a sport or a cult. 

And worst of all. 

Kylo Ren. 

He was your neighbor, signed up late just like you. You actually arrived at the same time, he pushed you down on your ass in the lobby so he could be checked in first. Calling you a clumsy bitch, only for you both to be handed keys to the same floor. Right next to each other, sharing a flimsy wall. 

On top of that, he was an art major like you. 

And since he registered late, he was in almost every class. 

Even yoga! 

He took your mat the first day, leaving you in tears in the hallway. He apologized afterward, handing it back to you before storming off to be with his beefy upper-class friends. Any moment he could, Ren would humiliate you. Trying to push your buttons, whistling at you when you had to cross the hallway to the showers. Tripping you when you had your hands full, making fun of you for hanging out with your sparse group of friends. 

And when he found out you were annoyed with him making noise, he latched onto it. 

One week he decided to recite the entire Phantom of the Opera, just because you mentioned in class that you loved that play. 

He did every part, even the musical scores, you could’ve sworn he did it with a megaphone on the wall, just to spite you. 

Your parents told you ‘he just likes you, he’s a boy.’ 

No! 

That’s not how people express feelings, at least not healthy people. 

Your alarm clock blared on your nightstand, you didn’t sleep so it didn’t bother you. Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Ren ruined another night for you, a night you’d never get back. Of precious, precious sleep that you desperately deserved. 

Slipping on some plum leggings and a sports bra. No one gave a fuck about your outfit in your early morning class, as long as you went with clothes on. You popped on your headphones, trying to drone out the noise of Ren’s music through the wall. He liked to blast some god-awful music every morning. 

Today, it was an old Black Veil Brides album! 

You made it out of the dining hall, snatching a muffin for breakfast. Smiling at some guys you knew, waving at your friend Rose as you stormed off to the gym. The cold chill of Winter biting at your nose, it was too cold to not wear a full outfit. But there was no time, with Ren keeping you up all night and classes back to back, you didn’t have time to fuck around with dressing up. 

Ren ran in after you, laughing with his friends. Big nose all red from the frost, his hair looked frozen to his scalp, probably showered beforehand. You rolled out your mat, trying to stretch while he bragged about the pussy he got last night. Making a big show of your complaining, saying you were desperate to fuck him based on your whining. 

You rolled your eyes when he planted next to you, “Good morning, you ran out in a hurry.” 

“I didn’t want to be late,” you sneered, not giving him the time of day, still stretching your back into child's-pose. 

“How are we supposed to walk together if you run away from me, cupcake?” 

You scoffed, shooting him an icy glare. Despite him grinning at you like the happiest man on Earth, god, you needed to stop giving him a reaction. That would shut him up if you didn’t give him the attention he is clearly lacking from his parental figures. 

“Good morning class,” your teacher greeted you calmly, “I hope you’re all doing well. As you all know, this next week is finals week, I’m offering makeup classes to those of you who need to make up some credit hours. We are also hosting some meditation if you need time to relax between classes.” 

Next to you, Ren leaned towards your mat, setting his hand right behind your back. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was hovering. Ready to devour you like a piece of meat.

“Hey,” he chuckled. 

You stayed quiet, pushing back into his arm so he would move. Ren stayed put, purring in your ear, “Did you sleep well?” 

“Move off my mat, Ren.” 

He smirked down at you, “You seem stressed, do you want me to help by fucking your brains out.” 

You shot off your mat, effectively knocking him onto his back. Laughing loudly in a relatively silent room of students trying to center themselves. He grinned from the floor, hands up in the air in defense, “I’m just offering to help you, Jesus!” 

“Just,” you pointed in his face, hair falling out of your ponytail. Everyone was staring at you, even your instructor. Shocked you were yelling, you barely spoke in class, at the scariest person in your class. 

“Just, leave me alone.” 

------

Ren avoided you for the rest of the week, mostly. 

Still had his nightly fuck-more subdued though, you had on noise-canceling headphones to try and focus on studying. There were still so many classes to get to, and you wouldn’t be finished until the day before Winter break… you were desperate to get this over with. 

You missed your family, the plane ticket itself cost you a whole month of meals. 

Of course, you would do fine in your classes, it was just the motivation to get there. Every morning you glared at Ren when he greeted you in yoga, still standing next to you like a menacing shadow. 

This morning was no different, only you skipped class to study in the library. Bundled up in your winter coat, long black scarf, hair in a lazy braid, and thermal leggings on. The wind had picked up last night, bringing on an ice storm that wasn’t expected until late next week. You walked on treacherous sidewalks, dodging all the other students who were seeking the warmth of the library. 

You settled inside, sprawling your books and laptop on an old desk. Grabbing out a few sketch pads so you could finish up some pieces that were due in a couple hours. Most of your finals in art were ‘unconventional’ which meant the professor wanted to see what you were motivated to work on during the year. 

For yours, you had decided to draw the people you saw on campus. 

Studying their faces, mannerisms, languages while they were in an organic environment. It was a great piece, and one of your professors was very interested in showcasing it in a show. You were proud, it wasn’t large but it was important for you and you wanted it to be perfect before turning it in. 

Your pastels were spread out, fingertips smudged and stained from charcoal, a few lines on your face and brow from forgetting about the streaks. There was this one person you couldn’t finish, it was one of your friends from last week. She was laughing and holding a drink, the expression wide and full of emotion but it was hard for you to capture without her being there. 

But you steeled yourself, you weren’t leaving this spot until you finished her. 

“You smudged that dude's face,” a low voice rumbled behind you. A finger pointing down at the top left corner, “Stop-don’t touch it.” 

You moved to swat the hand away, not wanting some random guy to ruin your piece with their grubby fingers. Recentering yourself, he wasn’t smudged, he was just in the corner so it looked like it wasn’t finished… what did he know, anyway? 

“You didn’t draw me?” 

Now you stopped, why you didn’t recognize the timbre of his voice was ridiculous. 

You let out a long sigh, “Please, don’t touch the canvas, Kylo. It’s not ready, yet.” 

The chair that housed your backpack slid out next to you, your things tossed on the ground carelessly before Ren sat. You scooted away from him, he smelled like he just showered. Judging by his wet hair you were probably right… “What are you doing?” 

He shrugged, fiddling with one of your notebooks. Flipping through pages carelessly, “I don’t know-you weren’t in yoga so.” 

“So,” you gave him a weird look, “You stalked me to the library?” 

“There’s no reason to go to yoga if I can’t bother you,” he flashed a smile, dropping it slightly when he saw you weren’t playing back with him. 

Silence fell over you both, the only noises the heat kicking in around the scuffling of boots and shoes to face the weather again. 

“I like your piece,” he gestured to your work, “For drawing, right?” 

You nodded stiffly, not enjoying his friendly tone. Like he wasn’t your demon neighbor who made it his job to annoy you and had for the past four months of your life. Ren shifted again, now leaning on the table with his cheek resting on his forearm. Looking at you with wide eyes, you never took the time to look at his face. 

He had very large eyes that betrayed his emotions. Swimming with flecks of auburn, gold, and some streaks of green, blinking slowly as he studied your canvas. You looked away from him, trying to ignore the urge to draw them, how his long lashes rivaled your own. How his skin was freckled with beauty marks, creases from frowning lined his forehead and nose. You could even make out his stubble, some pieces he must’ve missed the last time he shaved. 

You went back to drawing, no longer focusing on it. Just trying to understand what was happening, your tormentor was a foot away from you. Breathing calmly like a cat laying in a patch of sun. Hunched over the edge, torso too long to rest like a normally proportioned human being, had he always been this big? 

“Wanna get coffee before class?” 

“Huh?” 

You blinked slowly, not registering that he spoke to you. 

Ren leaned off, letting out a big yawn and scratching the back of his neck. 

Yes, definitely a cat. 

“Do you want to get coffee,” he stared blankly, “Before we head to English?” 

You looked down at your mess, then back up at him. Shaking your head softly, voice quiet as a mouse, “No-thank you.” 

He exhaled harshly, “I’m not gonna burn you with it, it’s just coffee.” 

“No, I’m fine,” you said firmer, “I wanna work on this some more.” 

Ren stayed still, probably trying to think of a way to get you to agree with him. You had known him long enough to know he doesn’t like people disagreeing with him. Didn’t have to be a college graduate to see that the man had issues with control, hence terrorizing you all semester. You didn’t want to offer him an olive branch, because he was just doing it as a joke. Probably, waiting until you were calm around him to do something cruel. 

You went back to drawing, listening to him get up and leave you. Mumbling something under his breath about ‘trying to be nice’ before walking out. You shook off the awkwardness, not willing to break down and let him do something nice for you, just because he didn’t ruin your final piece didn’t mean he wouldn’t do something in the future. 

The day was still young. 

------

Oddly enough, Ren didn’t bother you that evening. 

Not even a door slam! 

You almost thought he was dead, but you saw him in the hallway when you were walking to the bathroom. Wrapped in your robe, caddy in hand, he didn’t whistle or try to touch your ass like he normally did. Just a stale smile before closing himself back in his room. 

Not to waste the precious quiet, you went to work packing your bags for your trip tomorrow. Deciding to do a quick load of laundry, your hall was almost empty, so no one would be down there while you waited. 

Piling up your hamper, you threw your pj's and slippers on. Remembering to grab a blanket and your laptop so you could hang out down there while you waited. 

Your friends back home were all excited to see you, ready to hear all about your time away. The boys you met, friends you made, classes, all that. So excited to get home and see your cat, Gremlin, he was all alone without you. Your mom sent you pictures earlier of him curled in your blankets, saying that he knew you were coming home soon. 

Maybe next Fall you could get an apartment, you didn’t want to leave him for another year. 

A washing machine door slammed shut next to you, causing you to jump from your perch atop your own. Faced with Ren, who was doing his laundry in his pjs, or his version of pjs. Giving you another tight-lipped smile before leaning against the far wall. Yawning loudly before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. 

You ignored him, turning back to your laptop that was playing a crime documentary. Texting some friends to keep your mind from wandering to Ren and why he was in such a mood. 

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Ren called from his wall. 

You pretended to not hear him, refocusing on the documentary, there was something very interesting happening and you weren’t about to miss how they found the killer's shoe prints in the mud just because Ren was trying to talk to you. 

Then something was thrown at you, and it smelled awful. 

“Oh-my-god!” 

You shot off the washing machine, throwing down the offending garment. Ren was laughing loudly, “Chill out! It was just an old shirt!” 

“How old was it?!” 

He smiled at you from the ground, propping an elbow on his kneecap. One leg stretched out on the tile, you tried to regain a sense of calm, he was just messing with you again. Just take some deep breaths… in-out-in

“Are you leaving tomorrow, after our final?” 

You let out your deep breath, sitting back on the washer. “Yeah,” you paused your show since mister meanie wanted to have a tea party. “I have to get to the airport right after.” 

He hummed, “Same.” 

The washer beeped loudly, echoing in the otherwise empty room. Ren watched you hop off, fixing your shorts which definitely rode up too much. Trying to not flash him your underwear as you bent to move your clothes to a dryer. You cursed when a sock fell from your pile, great.  

“How come we’ve never fucked?” 

Now all your clothes were on the floor. 

Along with Ren, who was staring at you like you were an art exhibit. 

You dragged your clothes back to the washer. There was no way you were finishing now that they touched the dirty floor, no one cleaned down here and just because it looked clean didn’t mean-

A whistle, “You good over there?” 

“Yup.” 

“Okay,” you heard him stretch, popping his joints as he lifted off the floor. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he closed in. Almost touching you, no escape, “As I was saying, how come you’ve never let me steal your virginity?” 

You scoffed, “I am not a virgin.” 

Ren pressed into you, pushing you against the washer now. Grinding his hips into your own, you squirmed, trying to dispel every fantasy flooding your brain. Every night you spent listening to him through the wall, imagining just once that it was you. If he weren’t such a monster, you would have gladly laid on your back and let him do whatever he wanted. 

“Nothing?” 

You took a deep breath, placing both palms on the top of the washer. Biting your lip as you silently pleaded for him to let you go, but also continue. You could smell his cologne from this close, how it complimented him so well. Mixing in with his dark aura, you wanted nothing more than to spin around and…

Soon you were doing just that, but not on your own violation. 

Ren had his hands grasping your hips, thumbs slipping under the fabric of your t-shirt to caress your soft skin. Lips capturing your own, you froze in his hold. Unsure of what to do, a part of you wanted to scream and smack him, but the other part loved the smell of his toothpaste. 

He relaxed when you relaxed, your lips still awkwardly locked together. Not opening and allowing for more, but not moving away either. You stared at him, startled to see him looking back at you. Pulling back slightly, you watched his face chase yours. Bringing your lips together a few more times, kissing at the seam. 

You felt his tongue flick for entry, trying to pry your mouth open so he could explore. When you didn’t move he finally huffed in annoyance, “I know it’s your first kiss, but you’re supposed to open your mouth.” 

You groaned, bringing both hands to cradle his cheeks. There was no way he was going to make fun of you, he initiated this so. 

Ren made a muffled noise when you pressed your lips back together. Probably of shock and surprise, because, no. This was not your first kiss, not even your fourth or fifth kiss. Working your tongue skillfully into his mouth, you moaned softly at his taste. Just like you imagined… not that you put much stock into this but… it was wonderful. 

Bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, tugging on his dark brown hair. Just like you always wanted to, whenever he walked past you with it tied in a bun you dreamt of tearing through it. Ren returned your affection in kind, his left hand moving to the small of your back. Fingers dancing under the waistband of your pajama bottoms. 

You heard him swear when he felt the lace underneath, nestled between your cheeks. Ren slid a hand over the globes of your ass, moving his hips in time with his tongue. Tasting every inch of your mouth, even growling in approval when you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip. 

Petting and groping each other against the washing machines, the sound of you swapping spit barely heard over the rumble of your clothes. Ren had gotten sick of grinding against your hip bone, pulling away from you for a moment. Shushing your pathetic whimpers, he hooked the hand not cupping your ass behind your left knee. 

Hiking it over his hip, opening your legs up. Allowing him to assault your center with his straining erection, oh you could picture it now. How easy it would be to just let him slip inside you. 

Right here, in the laundry room. 

*Beep* 

You pulled back roughly, barely able to unsuction your lips from Rens' own. A string of spit connecting your kiss-bitten lips, he looked at you with pleading eyes. Grinding himself against you harder, pulling a few soft mewls from your throat. 

“I need to switch my clothes,” you croaked.

He nodded, shakily setting your limb back on the floor and backing away. You watched through your own lust-filled state as he trembled. Walking back to his far wall, a hand cupping his cock through his sweats. Your throat clicked as you took in a much-needed breath, doing what you said you would. 

Setting them in the dryer, all the more aware of his eyes watching your every move. 

Not sparing him a glance when you sat back on the washer. 

Turning on your laptop once again to watch your crime documentary. 

Ignoring the throbbing between your legs, his deep breaths, and your shaking limbs. 

------

The TV’s at the airport all said the same thing, “Record snowfall this winter, right before the holidays! Experts say that we will be lucky to keep power until it passes. Our friends on the west coast are enjoying a white Christmas, while we’re stuck in the North Pole.” 

All flights have been grounded until further notice. 

Stuck. 

You could barely make it back to your dorm without crashing. 

Bursting into tears several times when you realized you wouldn’t be home until it was over. Wouldn't be able to safely leave your dorm room until it passed, leaving you utterly alone. 

You had emailed your RA letting him know your bad luck, he let the staff know you’d be there so they would have food and water running still. 

But other than that, this was your holiday. 

You slipped on the walk up to your room, sobbing loudly in the halls as you clutched your luggage. No going home, no seeing your friends or family, no Christmas dinner, no personal shower, no Gremlin to sleep on your face. 

Collapsing on your bed, curling yourself in the multitude of pillows and blankets that adorned it. The room had shitty heating, the entire building had shitty heating. The entire month of December you’d been freezing, and no amount of personal heaters could fix this kind of cold. 

You drifted off to sleep after crying for a few hours, letting your parents know what was happening. Setting alerts for earlier flights, anything you could do to get home. You were so tired in fact, that you slept through a power outage. Leaving the entire building to shut down, no backup generators. 

And no heat. 

It wasn’t until you felt yourself being lifted that you woke up to the commotion. 

Squirming in the kidnappers' arms, limbs aching from freezing for a time in your bedroom. The window must’ve cracked open because it was much colder than when you arrived. Your attacker didn’t let you go, growling in your ear to be still. 

Dragging you out of the building, towards a car you didn’t notice when you pulled in. With the snow swirling all around, it was a miracle they could see their own vehicle. You were thrown in the front seat, followed by your luggage tossed in the back. You stayed still, every time you moved it hurt, hypothermia. Common in the New England storms if you were foolish enough to be outside… 

You about passed out when the driver's side door opened, Ren climbed in. Looking just as frozen as you, slamming the door shut and mumbling something as he started his car. You could’ve cried when the engine turned, heat blasting between the both of you. 

“Hands,” his teeth chattered, holding his own out. He nodded for you to do the same, grasping your pink fingers between his own and blowing on them. “Power went out,” Ren took a shallow breath, “I was leaving and I saw your car. You were almost frozen to your bed, the window broke.” 

“Th-thank you-u-u.” 

Ren cringed at your fingers, slowly gaining back their normal color. “I tried to grab everything I could, like your backpack and luggage. But we can’t stay there, we’ll fucking freeze.” 

You nodded, tugging your hands away to curl into your chest. Thankful that Ren had enough sense to grab blankets, stuffing them in your lap from the backseat. You thought about grabbing your phone, but you could barely make a fist so it would do you no good. 

“My plane g-g-got ground-d-ed.” 

Ren shivered, nodding sharply, “Mine too, my mom got me a hotel room not far from here to stay until the storm passes. So, I’m taking us there.” 

“Okay.” 

You didn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract him from the treacherous roads. Thank god he had a Jeep, or else you would’ve died. You couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, less than that when you were on the highway out of the city. 

Ren kept mumbling things like it’s okay, I’m sorry, I know it's cold, whenever you shivered and took in sharp breaths. You must’ve been out for a while, to get this bad. A quick look at the clock in his car said you’d been asleep for three hours, who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t noticed your car… 

He helped you out, more carried you, towards the check-in desk. Too worried you would pass out in the car if he left you for too long, the front desk lady was quick and sweet. Making sure to send up extra blankets and pillows to your suite. Ren had you walk up with him, so he wouldn’t have to carry you and the luggage on separate trips. 

You clutched his hand like a child, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. But he was so warm, it’s all you could think about. All you wanted was to be warm, nodding blindly to whatever Ren said to do. 

Plug your phone in, check. 

Let him talk to your mom, check. 

Draw a bath for you, check. 

Climb in the bath with you, double-check. 

It wasn’t until you were defrosted in the clawfoot tub that you realized you were naked with him. 

Rens chest against your back, holding you like his life depended on it. Judging by his shaking, you both were probably suffering from acute hypothermia. You had been silent for so long your voice spooked him a little, “Thank you.” 

He hummed into your hair, which was sitting on top of your head in a messy bun. “Are you okay?” 

You nodded slowly, “Can we go lay down?” 

“Yeah,” Ren hastily got out of the tub, draining it and wrapping you in plush towels. You were still too cold to blush from your nakedness, not how you pictured this going. You imagined you would finally give into him on some drunken party night, barely remembering his reaction to seeing you nude. 

But now he had seen you half-frozen, forced to cradle you back to life. 

------

You squinted from your cocoon, greeted by a dimly lit room. 

One spare lamp on a dingy-looking nightstand, well it wasn’t terrible. It was better than your nightstand in your dorm room… where was your dorm room anyway? 

Something vibrated behind you, followed by a heavyweight sprawling against your back. 

You held your breath, you were in a hotel. 

With a stranger. 

“Shit,” you whispered. 

Okay, you could wiggle out of here. You took a moment to study the room, there was the lamp from before, and some curtains on a metal rod in the far corner. If you managed to get out without being detected you could knock out the assailant. 

“You smell so good.” 

More weight settled on you, now you were trapped. This bear was closing in, who knows what happened while you were asleep! All you could remember was falling asleep at your dorm after the upsetting trip to the airport, then being dragged away. 

Your fingers burning when you tried to use them, being shoved in a car… 

Kylo. 

“Kylo?!” 

“Mhm.” 

You threw your arms up, successfully throwing him off you and the covers. Your limbs screaming at the sudden movement, you were still suffering from the cold. Next to you, curled in a ball, totally catlike, was Ren. 

A sleepy smile gracing his lips, hands curled under his cheek, and legs moving towards his chest, Like a child under a blanket. You gasped when you saw he was naked, “Fuck!” 

You were too. 

“What the fuck, Ren!?” 

“Stop yelling,” you watched his hand bat his nose like an animal, “Come back, you were warm.” 

You huffed, flailing off the bed in search of your bags. 

Memories flooding back to you, he took you here after saving your life. 

The bath. 

Ugh, bad time to remember your kiss the night before. 

Ren sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly. You flushed red when you looked between his legs, shit. How does he walk around with that? Is that why he has bad posture? You choked on your spit when he spread his legs out. 

Sprawling completely on the mattress like he wasn’t in a room with a stranger. 

“Snow hasn’t stopped,” Ren yawned, snapping a hand and pointing between his legs, “Come back.” 

“I’m not doing anything until you have clothes on.” 

He rolled his eyes, now looking you up and down. Focusing on your bare tits, swinging around with your erratic movements. You watched him lick his lips, wagging his eyebrows, “Come on, don’t you want to sit back on the bed?”

You shook your head, crouching down to your bag. Trying to not flash him more of your goods, but that didn’t work. Not with him leaning to the side of the bed to make a show of him peeping on you. 

A wolfish grin splitting his face, “You have a nice ass.” 

“Can you stop,” you huffed, tugging on some sweats you found. 

Ren made a pouting noise when you stood, pushing his bottom lip out while you threaded your arms through a t-shirt. You shivered a little-it was still freezing in the room. Probably from the weather, it sounded like it got worse… hopefully this place would keep power. 

You looked back at the bed, Ren was still manspreading. One of his large paws crawling towards his cock, watching you with the same smirk. He let out a soft sigh when he touched himself, eyes momentarily shutting in bliss. 

“Do you have to do that with me here?” 

He cracked an eye open, “Do you have to be that far away?” 

You scoffed, moving to the corner of the room. Shivering since you were near the window, you plopped down in the cheap armchair. Ignoring the sounds of his fist gliding along his cock, you tucked your feet under your body. Humming a tune to ignore the arousal growing between your legs, there was no way you were caving to him. 

What kind of man does that with a complete stranger present!? 

More importantly, why was it turning you on? 

“Come here,” he whistled, you spared a glance at him. Blushing profusely at the sight, his cock was now fully erect. Standing tall and proud, tip flushed almost purple from want. You quickly looked away, trying to swallow down the drool that gathered in your mouth. 

What would happen if you gave in? 

Not like it would hurt you… he looked so delicious. 

“If I come over there, what's gonna happen,” you whispered, determined to stay put.

With a deep breath, the mattress groaned under his weight, probably leaning back to get comfortable. He seemed to love you being there, watching him, or trying not to. Ren made a small non-committal scoff, “Whatever you want to happen, baby.” 

“Don’t call me that, you know my name.” 

“Meow.” 

Your head snapped towards him, met with his grin. “Come on-you really want me to do this by myself?” he waved his cock, fist tight around the base. You rolled your eyes, training your eyes to focus on the least attractive part about him. 

You were coming up empty, all you could stare at was his cock. 

The prominent vein along the underside thrumming in time with his heartbeat. You could practically feel it along your tongue, rigid and stiff. Slowly, you stood from the chair, met with a soft whine from Ren. Eying your hungrily as you sauntered over, you planted a knee in the mattress. 

Between his legs, which were spread obscenely wide, he licked his lips in anticipation. 

“If I help you, are you going to be nicer to me?” 

He nodded, chest taking in sharp breaths. You slowly leaned back on your heels, stripping your top off, despite him seeing you naked earlier. Surprised when he bit his bottom lip, watching you play with your tits, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Just to make him squirm a bit, “I’ll be nicer, whatever you want.” 

“I’m really cold still,” you spoke softly, making sure to lean in close enough to graze his lips with your own before pulling away, “Can you help warm me up?” 

“Yes,” Ren's hands shot out, kneading your flesh a few times. Debating to grasp your tits or the small of your waist, like a kid in a candy store. So many options, but you didn’t want to wait. If you were doing this, it would be about you.

“Eat me out.” 

He stilled, cocking a brow, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me,” you exhaled on his neck, being sure to drag your kitty claws along his chest. Briefly grazing his nipples, savoring the way he gasped. “Eat me out, if you make me cum, I’ll let you fuck me. Like the desperate slut you are.” 

Ren scowled for a moment, nudging your face from his neck. Eyes dancing across your face before capturing your lips, moaning softly in your mouth, “I can make you cum so hard you’ll never want another man again.” 

You placed a soft kiss, rolling onto your back dramatically. Splaying your legs wide, “If that's true, why do you fuck a different girl every week?” 

He growled at you, actually growled. 

Hands no longer soft in their quest to memorize your skin, instead Ren pinned your legs hard enough for them to pop. Making you squeal from the stretch, “How fast do you think I can make you cum? Hm?” 

Before you could answer, he dove in. 

Lips wrapping around your clit and suckling fast, tongue flicking out every few seconds. You were already bucking up to meet him, but his firm hold kept you flush. While his tongue began to lap thick stripes along the seam of your pussy. Briefly hooking the tip into your entrance, both of you moaning when he tasted your wetness. 

“Shit-Kylo!” 

“Mm,” his voice vibrated against your clit, continuing his assault until you choked on your spit. You buried your fingers in his hair, keeping him in that right spot. “I’m so fucking close,” you cried out, pleading his name over and over and over. 

“You know,” he popped off, smacking his lips that were glistening with your cum, “I’d rather you cum on my cock.” 

“Wait-” 

Ren flipped you onto your chest, yanking your hips into the air. You barely had time to take a breath before he shoved his cock inside you. His breath hitched as he sank to the hilt, you groaned at the stretch. Now this, this you could get used to.

He pulled out slowly, you heard him swear under his breath. Leaving just the tip of his cock inside and ramming his hips into yours. Pulling a loud scream from your lungs, Ren chuckled at that. Pumping his cock at a rough pace, “Shh-you’re going to upset our neighbors.” 

You huffed, cheap shot, angling your hips a little so his cock would rub up against your front wall. Moaning when he picked up the pace, skin slapping skin. Ren leaned over your form, planting a hand on the headboard to keep it from knocking. You weakly lifted your head, clenching at the sight of his knuckles turning white. 

All you could do was sit and take it, revealing in the bliss you’d denied yourself for four months. 

-------

Ren dropped you both off at the airport two days later. 

You spent three days together, fucking each other's brains out. 

Choking on his cock while he was brushing his teeth, eating you out while you read through your newsfeed. Bouncing on his cock while he fed you breakfast, you didn’t need to change clothes the entire vacation. 

But you wanted to go home and were thankful for the storm ending so you could head home. It was a little awkward, Ren wasn’t very excited about the snow stopping. It felt like he was trying to stall you leaving but reluctantly listened to your desire to fly home. 

“Got everything?” he mumbled, hitching his backpack over his shoulder. The two of you were waiting in the TSA line, about to part ways to head home. You nodded, giving him a tight smile before stepping up on your own. 

Ignoring the feeling of his eyes on the back of your head. 

Both of you stood awkwardly after making it through, “Well-my gates over here,” you pointed behind you. Ren hummed in acknowledgment, kicking at the ground instead of looking at you. 

“Thanks for letting me crash with you,” you tried again, still nothing. 

You groaned, spinning on your heel. Back to being an asshole, you were kicking yourself for thinking he would be nicer. All he wanted was some pussy, and you willingly gave into him when you should’ve remained strong. 

Your parents picked you up back at home, lots of tears and laughs were shared. Thankful that you made it home without freezing, your mom was grateful for your friend who saved your life. She wanted to call him and tell him how much she appreciated it but you shrugged it off, he was just being nice. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything, you left out the part that he was the neighbor you always complained about. 

Collapsing on your bed felt surreal like you would wake up and be back in the hotel room at any moment. It was odd not sleeping next to him, you had grown accustomed to his clingy arms. Circling you in the middle of the night when he thought you were dead asleep, smelling your hair before tucking you into his naked chest. 

You tossed and turned all night, groaning when you were woken by your siblings to get up the next morning. Barely sleeping a wink, you resolved to take a nap later to try and not spoil your trip back home. 

At breakfast, your mom yelled at you from the kitchen. 

“Hey hon, someone’s calling you!” 

“Just answer it,” you groaned through a mouthful of cereal. Briefly hearing your mother answer in a typical chipper tone, stalling mid-sentence before she yelled again, “It’s someone named Kyle?” 

Shit, you shot to the kitchen. 

Snatching the phone and escaping to the living room where no one was hiding. 

“Kylo?” 

Hey, didn’t think you’d answer.

“How’d you get my number?” 

Took it while you were napping the other day, I knew you wouldn’t give it to me willingly.

You rolled your eyes, “Alright creeper, what’s up?” 

Just wanted to talk or whatever, felt weird not to. 

Silence. 

Are you gonna let me buy you coffee when we are back?

“You were being serious about that?” 

A scoff. 

Yeah-or we could just fuck again if that’s all you want from this. 

“Coffee sounds good.” 

Cool. Cool. 

It’s a date. 

-------

TAGGING: @finn-ray-nal-beads @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @historyandfandoms50 @caelum-phyriina-vermillon @ghoulian13 @mrs-kylo-ren @millenialcatlady @relationshipwithmybed @dancingmicrobes @wayward-rose  @contesa-lui-alucard @daydreamsofren @insufferablelust @ohdamnadamm @mariesackler @caillea @safarigirlsp @jalexunderthestars @shesakillerkween @glassythoughts @zimmermansbrat @not-the-teen-witch @jynzandtonic @roanniom @celestiasin @glassbxttless @cornmousequeen @driversmutbucket @blowthatpieceofjunk

[supercorpkid]

The date.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Lillian Luthor x Granddaughter!Reader

Word count: 2202.

“MOOOOOOOM!” You open your bedroom door and stick your head out just to yell. You leave it open and go back inside looking at your entire wardrobe on top of your bed.

“What’s going on?” Lena walks in two minutes later and looks at the situation of your bedroom. “Oh my God, what happened here? A hurricane?”

“Far worst.” You complain sitting on your bed, about to cry. “I have a date with Maya.”

Lena looks at you confused. You’ve been having dates for weeks now.

“A real date. In a restaurant.” You add, pointing at yourself. “I can’t go looking like I’m a fugitive who just robbed a bank.”

You get a chuckle in response, which makes you huff, upset.

“Stop laughing. Help me!” You beg, picking up your clothes. “She’s just so gorgeous.”

“You’re gorgeous too, babygirl.” Lena reaches for your face, but you step away.

“Mom, seriously. I get it, you think I’m cute and pretty and nice, whatever.” You cross your arms. “I want to LOOK pretty. Can you do that, please?”

“Ok. Let’s see what we have here.” Lena starts trying to untangle the clothes from your bed, analyzing each item of clothes you have. She keeps making combinations, and talking at the same time. “Remember to eat slow. The way you and your momma eat it’s not cute.”

“You married her.”

“Well, I’m-well-It doesn’t matter what I did.” She looks back at you, handing you an outfit. “Let’s see this one.”

You change using your superspeed and Lena looks at you, raising an eyebrow.

“No.” She goes back to the pile of clothes. “I know you are an alien, but Maya doesn’t, so she won’t think it’s cute.”

“Yeah, ok. Got it.” She gives you another combination and you change again.

“Too formal.” Lena shakes her head in denial, making you roll your eyes. “Also, please pay for dinner.”

“I will.” You agree, showing her a sweatshirt, she denies with her head.

“Oh, I remember one that I think will look great.” Lena goes to your closet, and you hear her voice coming from there. “So, do you need me to drive you there?”

“Mom, I can literally fly.” You answer a little bit louder, and she comes back with a suit jacket. You deny with your head. “No, mom! I’m not gonna wear a suit for my date.”

“It’s not a suit.” She goes to you, putting on your shoulder. “It’s a part of a suit. You can put it with jeans.”

“Please don’t make me regret asking for your help.” You pout and she breathes deep.

“Hey, what are you two up to?” Kara asks leaning over the door frame from your bedroom and you look at her.

“I have a date, mom’s helping me pick something to wear.”

“What?” Kara looks outraged. “Why haven’t you asked me?” You just give her an eyebrow raise, and when you look behind you Lena is doing the exact same thing. “I have great style.” She mumbles to herself.

Kara makes space in your bed for her to sit, and keeps playing with your clothes. You can see Lena is two seconds away from kicking her out of the room.

“You know, I think you’re due a haircut.” Kara says and you run to the bathroom’s mirror.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” You yell, desperately.

“Nothing’s wrong with it!” You hear Lena’s voice. “Honestly Kara, if you’re not going to help…”

“I am helping!” She huffs annoyed. “I don’t know why you two are making such a big deal about this. You have been seeing Maya for weeks!”

“Uh.” You groan, going back to your bedroom. “You wouldn’t understand. You were friends with mom for years before you made a move on her. She knew everything about you, and still wanted you.” You look at Lena. “Why, exactly?”

“HEY!” Kara defends herself, then pouts looking extremely offended by your comment.

“I’m not saying she shouldn’t!” You rush to reassure her. “You’re cool, funny, and so handsome!” Kara smirks to that. “But you ARE an alien. So, what made you fall for an alien?”

You look at Lena, still shuffling through your clothes, and Kara also looks at her, very expectantly, like she doesn’t know the answer herself. Which is absolute bullshit, because you’ve never seen two people more in love in your life, and they are constantly talking about it and showing affection.

“Really? Just look at her.” Lena points at Kara, whose smirk just grows bigger. “Look at those guns!”

Kara flexes her arms, and Lena’s eyes zeros in it in hunger.

“You know what? Forget I asked.” You go back to your pile of clothes. “Stop looking, JESUS!” You clap your hands in front of Lena’s face. “Can’t you guys just wait until I leave for my date?”

“When is that exactly?” Kara asks, and you roll your eyes, feeling kicked out. But you still look on your phone.

“In ten minutes.” You look at some clothes. Your eyes slowly widen when you realize what you just said. “TEN MINUTES! MOM! I have TEN MINUTES!”

“Ok, calm down. You have super speed.” Lena shoots a look at Kara. “Come on, help.”

Kara mumbles something about the fact you two don’t think she has great style (which is true), but helps you to pick up a long-forgotten jeans jacket you loved so much. Lena picks up the rest of the outfit around it, and you’re ready with three minutes to spare.

“Hey, don’t forget to compliment her.” Kara says walking behind you, while you make your way to the backyard.

“Be a gentleman. Pull the chair.” It’s Lena’s turn to advise you.

“Oh, and if she asks how you got there, please don’t say you flew there on a bus.”

You snap your head back at Kara, squinting your eyes.

“Why on Earth would I say that?”

“Trust me, it could happen.” It’s Lena who answers and you look on your phone just to make sure you don’t have time to ask any further questions about it. “And don’t forget to pay-”

“Oh, dear Rao, I’ve got it!” You fly away after that.

You don’t got it. You absolutely do not. You’re revisiting the entire list they gave you from ‘compliment her’ to ‘pay for dinner’, when Maya walks in the restaurant and you almost choke on your own saliva.

“Hey, babe.” You hear her voice and you scramble your brain for words and the list. Oh, the list!

“Wow, you look… Wow.” You say and she chuckles, coming closer to kiss your cheek lightly.

“You look ‘wow’ yourself.” It’s her answer. Oh, the chair! Pull the chair.

“Here.” You pull the chair and she sits, with a smile on her face.

“What a gentlewoman.” Maya says and you celebrate inside your head. You sit across from her. “Did you moms drive you here?”

“Um…” Don’t say you flew here on a bus. Wait. Of course, you won’t. Rao, Kara is such a dork. “Yeah, Kara gave me a ride.”

“Oh, I thought Kara didn’t drive.” Maya is looking at her menu and you’re in front of her in absolute panic. It’s good she’s not focusing on you at the moment.

“No, she does. Just not well.” You say, making her laugh. And you breathe relieved and happy at the same time. Her laughter is something else. Maya, herself, is something else.

You try not to order too much food, so you don’t look like an actual alien. Usually, you know the exact moment when to stop ordering food by the way the waiter looks at you like you can’t just simply eat all that. This night you stopped way before the look, which probably means you’ll need to buy an entire pizza on your way home. But it’s cool, it’s fine. If not eating like a monster it’s the price to pay for having a girlfriend, you’re more than willing to comply.

“So, I’ve noticed you always have headphones with you. I figured you must really like music.” Maya says and you shake your head agreeing.

Yes, you really like music. And what you like about it so much is the fact that you can drown the noises down with it. Having something to focus on always works for you, when your powers are hard to control.

“I made you a playlist.” She gives you a keychain with a code. You smile from ear to ear. “In case you want to think about me, those are my favorite songs.”

“Oh, I think about you all the time, trust me.” You smile at her, holding her hand on top of the table. “Thank you, I really love it.”

You’re too enamored to notice your surroundings, but you hear an awfully familiar voice that shoots a spike of adrenaline through your spine. You look around to see her there. Oh, no. Not Lillian. Not at the same restaurant you are.

“Can you excuse me for a minute?” You stand up and Maya shakes her head agreeing, but she looks confused. She lets you go, and you pretend you’re going to the bathroom. When she looks down to her phone, you run to Lillian’s table.

“Grandmother.”

“Granddaughter.” She tilts her head, doing her signature move. “Are you here on a date?”

“Maybe.” You shrug. “Are you here to attempt a world take-over?”

“Maybe.” It’s her answer, but she isn’t. She is just eating like a normal person. Why does every day Lillian look more human to you? “You’re looking great.”

“Oh. Thanks.” And now you’re embarrassed.

“You shouldn’t keep your beautiful date waiting to talk to your old evil grandmother.” Lillian points at Maya with a head tilt, and you look back at your table and see Maya sitting there looking amazing. You can’t help a smile that comes up on your face. “Go! I won’t do anything evil today. We’ll talk more soon, dear.”

“Yeah. Ok.” You are almost going back to your table, when you turn around and salute her off. She nods with a tiny smile.

“You cool?” Maya asks and you agree with your head. “I ordered dessert.”

“That’s awesome.” You sit in front of her. “You’re awesome.” You fidget your necklace around your neck trying to calm yourself. “Um, so. I don’t know if you would like this, but um-” Maya holds your hand on the table, and gives it a gentle squeeze, like she’s telling you don’t have to be nervous. You smile. “Well, I applied for this robotics thing, and I have to work on something for it.”

“You know I’m not smart like you, right?” Maya jokes and you laugh.

“No, it’s… I have to work on it next week, and I thought maybe you would like to go to my lab at L Corp with me after school, and like, hang out?” You don’t even give her time to answer and you’re already adding. “But if it doesn’t sound fun, then you don’t have to, at all. Honestly, it’s-”

“Really? That would be great, yeah!” She smiles and you feel your heart easing out a little. “I would love to see this great brain of yours working.”

“Yeah?” You ask and she squeezes your hand again.

“Can’t wait to spend time with you.” She adds and you feel your heart beating so fast, you’re scared she might be able to hear it even without super hearing.

Honestly, you’re a big pile of mess after that. Actually, you’ve been a big pile of mess for this entire dinner, but Maya doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to like it.

When it’s time to leave, you pretend to call Lena for her to pick you up. It feels horrible lying to Maya, but you’re well aware that sharing your secret identity is something far too big than few dates. You hope one day you can tell her, but for now, you wait until she’s gone, find an alley somewhere, then you fly back home.

Before going inside the house though, you actually call Lena, just to make sure they’re decent and you don’t see more than what you would like to (again).

“Did you meet Lillian at the restaurant?” Lena asks, going in the living room at the same time you’re walking in.

“Yeah, she was having dinner there.”

“She sent me Maya’s entire family background check.” Lena says looking up from her phone.

“WHAT?”

“Oh, and apparently-” Lena looks at you smirking. “She approves.”

“Is it weird that I feel like I should break up now?” You joke, making your mom laugh. She comes closer and kisses your forehead.

“Don’t worry, I also did the background check once you told me about her.” She smiles when she sees your shocked expression. “And Alex looked them up in all systems worldwide. She’s cool.”

“You guys are so weird.” You half complain, half smile, and make your way to your bedroom.

They are weird, and also unnecessarily overly protective, because you have superpowers and can handle anything. But the fact that your entire family (even Lillian!) were worried about you, it’s extremely adorable. You just freaking love them so much.

Notes:

@hermen0404 and I got so carried away with Maya existence, so yeah.

[blossom-hwa]

Bloom, Bloom, Pow! |1| - CHANGMIN

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!! Please enjoy the first half of nearly 17k of pining for the boy I would be pining for if he was in my life <3 

Special thanks to @wingkkun​ for helping me come up with several parts of this story!! I don’t know how you deal with me, Kai, but I really appreciate it <3

(Suggested playlist: Bloom Bloom, DDD, and Just U by The Boyz :D)

Pairing: Changmin x gender neutral!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, university!au

Triggers: cursing, alcohol

Word Count: 9.4k

Dancing with you, Changmin feels like flowers are blooming in his heart.

Part 1 | Part 2

TBZ Masterlist | Interwoven

~ you

It starts like this.

Ji Changmin is notorious for his dancing, not because he’s bad at it (he’s arguably one of the best students in the dance department), but for his habit of moonwalking through the university halls. Headphones stuck in his ears, phone in hand, he twists and twirls around campus, eyes closed in concentration or fixed on some faraway point in space, lost in the realm of his music.

And the strangest thing is, he never bumps into a single person.

Oh, he might brush against an arm or two. His fingertips might graze a shoulder with a butterfly’s touch, his feet just barely skimming over another’s shoes. But crashing into someone? Knocking into a wall? Never.

It’s fun to see, really, when you cross paths with him or when he shows up on the school Snapchat story. Even though you only know Changmin by name (Kevin talks to him, but you haven’t had the pleasure), there’s something endlessly graceful and fascinating about the way he moves, slipping through the crowded halls with the cheerful air of someone who doesn’t care about what other people around them think.

It starts with an impulse, just something to lighten up your mood. You’re walking to one of your least favorite classes (look, writing might be fun, but certainly not the way your professor teaches it) when Changmin’s bright orange mop of hair appears ahead. A slight smile creeps up your face as he comes closer, an unstoppable force parting the crowded sea of students.

An idea pops into your mind.

Trip him up.

Briefly, you question yourself. Why?

Like that meme, your brain supplies a concise answer. You gotta.

You’re grinning, moving before your mind can even process what your body has decided to do. Stepping awkwardly around a couple of other students, you place yourself right in Changmin’s path.

He twists.

You turn.

He lurches.

You step.

He flashes you a confused look, his usual faraway gaze replaced with something bemused and even slightly annoyed. For a second, you feel a flash of uncertainty – what if he doesn’t see this as the joke you mean it to be? After all, you don’t even know each other. How is he going to take this?

But he must see the teasing smile on your face and the glint in your gaze because his eyes sparkle, lips stretching wide into the brightest grin you’ve ever seen him wear. His moves take on an exaggerated cadence, arms stretching widely, legs smoothly twisting around your much less graceful feet as he twirls, just avoiding your flailing hands jokingly trying to stop him.

Changmin wins, of course. Your mediocre attempts at obstruction are nothing against his skill. As he slips away, he flashes you a smirk of farewell, leaving you with only the memory of a bright smile, graceful limbs, and an awkward dance.

You expect it to be a one-time thing. It’s so stupid when you think about it later – what the hell possessed you to do that, anyway? You’re cringing just thinking about it – so there’s no way, you tell yourself, no way that Changmin would bother to acknowledge your presence again. When you walk down the same hall a few days later and see a bright orange head of hair artfully bobbing in your direction, you just smile a bit at the residual memories.

But Changmin catches your eye, his gaze brightening when it meets yours. As the curve of his lips widens, one graceful finger twitches slightly in a tiny gesture – get over here. His eyes glint – try me.

A grin spreads across your face as you step closer. Why not?

And so, again, you dance.

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin doesn’t really know what makes you so special. He doesn’t know why he indulges your twists and turns, weaving in and out of your awkwardly stepping feet on the way to class. He doesn’t know why he didn’t just give you a weird look the first day you stepped into his path, avoided you as best he could and walked away.

But that would’ve erased the smile on your face, he reasons, thinking back to the memories. It would’ve extinguished the sparkle in your eye, muted the brightness of your expression into something far less brilliant. And despite the fact that Changmin barely knows who you are, has only a vague recollection of your name from when someone once called to you down the hall, in that moment, he subconsciously knew that there was nothing he would willingly do to dim your sparkle. Not a sparkle of beauty, necessarily, or of mere physical loveliness. No, in your smile, there’s something deeper, something brilliantly incandescent that strikes right into Changmin’s heart.

Other people think it’s stupid. Younghoon, for example, wonders if he’s gone absolutely nuts the first time he witnesses the dance (well, Changmin calls it a dance – Younghoon says it looks more like a cult ritual). “What the fuck was that?” he asks after you walk off, raising an extremely confused eyebrow.

Changmin just shrugs, watching your figure disappear down the hall before slipping back into his usual moonwalk. “I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “We just do it.”

“You’re so weird,” Younghoon mutters, shaking his head slightly. “Do you even know their name?”

Again, he shrugs. “Y/N, I think?”

Younghoon chokes. “You think?”

If Changmin thinks about it, it is kind of stupid. You stepped into his path in a crowded hallway and proceeded to try and trip him up, all while wearing a huge grin on your face (that Changmin thinks is beautiful, but he won’t dig into that just yet). Changmin, instead of trying to get away, decided to indulge your fun. You’ve never exchanged a single spoken word – he isn’t even sure you know his name, though he can’t really say anything because he isn’t sure he knows yours – and you’ve rarely interacted, even nonverbally, beyond a few smiles and the little confrontation that happens every Monday and Wednesday at approximately two-ten in the afternoon when the two of you walk down the same hall.

But it doesn’t feel stupid, not in the moment. It feels right, somehow, grinning as widely as his lips will allow while you try to step all over his toes. You never manage to trip him, not in those few seconds of dance, but Changmin appreciates the effort and laughs along with you, exaggerating his movements and pretending to almost fall, just to see the smile on your face grow wider.

So the stares don’t matter, not to Changmin. He can stomach the strange glances, the hidden smirks, the subtly raised phones trying to catch the scene for the school Snapchat story (anyway, if it bothers him enough, he can terrify Jaehyun into deleting it). He can shrug off Younghoon standing like a silent tree nearby, stuffing his face with bread and praying no one associates him with his squirrelly best friend, because seeing your brilliant smiles and hearing your stifled laughs are more than enough to get him through the rest of the day.

“You never smile that widely around me,” Younghoon remarks one day, “and I’m your best friend.”

Changmin just shrugs as he flashes you one last grin over the sea of students in the hall, turning back to face his friend. “Well,” he says, purposely trying to be infuriating, “there’s a reason for that.”

Younghoon whines, of course, pouting his lips in the way that wins him so many admirers around the school, but Changmin ignores it in favor of thinking about your smile, your laugh, the way your eyes sparkle and your limbs fly in your attempts to throw him off his balance.

Yes, he thinks, there’s a reason.

The reason is that your smile is more beautiful than anything he’s ever seen.

. . . . .

~ eric

Eric considers himself pretty well-versed when it comes to feelings. He’s fallen in love a lot, even with people he often doesn’t even know too well. Something just always pulls him in – a particular smile, a mischievous glint of the eye, the way they tap their pencil against their chin when deep in thought. He falls easily, quickly, and a little too hard, and as a result, he can recognize the look in his own eyes (and in others’, too) when he’s fallen head over heels for someone lovely.

He doesn’t have too many problems shooting his shot, either, which is nice. Sunwoo’s told Eric several times that he’s jealous of the way he can walk up to someone so easily and go, “Hey, I want to get to know you a little better – mind if I take you on a date?” To Eric, though, it’s just part of the process. He gets nervous, no doubt, but more often than not, if he’s courteous, he’ll at least meet a new friend, even if the feelings don’t end up being reciprocated.

When Eric slams into you on his board one day – what the fuck were you doing, anyway? Trying to trip up that wide-eyed kid with the dimples? Though to be fair, he shouldn’t be skateboarding in the halls – the first thing he notices is your pretty smile, the embarrassed grin you give him as he apologizes profusely, extending a hand to help you up. His heart thumps once.

True to himself, Eric’s ready to drop a flirty pickup line, make you laugh a little, and ask if he can get you a coffee or something to make up for the trouble. The words are forming on his lips, just about to burst from his throat when he feels a laser gaze glaring holes into his back.

Against his better judgement, Eric looks back slightly. The doe-eyed boy you were, what – interacting with? Dancing with? He needs to go over that scene in his head again – is staring back with so much concentration it looks like he wants to tear out Eric’s entire soul.

You drop Eric’s hand and he looks back, startled by the sudden lack of touch. “Don’t worry, really – I’m not hurt. Thanks for helping me up,” you say.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Your voice.

If Eric’s heart wasn’t already fluttering over your smile, it’s certainly fluttering now over your voice. God, it makes Eric want to just be your friend, at the very least. There’s a perfect mixture of warmth, gentility, and kindness in your tone, sprinkled with something so very sweet that soothes his ears.

Hell.

But by contrast, your smile is distant, like you’re thinking of something beyond the moment. Eric takes the current brief silence to look where your eyes flit off to, trying to see who you’re fixated on.

The doe-eyed boy is walking away, shifting gracefully through the group of students currently converging on the path. Your gaze follows his disappearing figure, something longing and endlessly lovely in your expression.

Ah, Eric realizes, heart sinking slightly. You’re already in love.

The memory of a gaze glaring holes into his soul briefly flashes in his mind, causing Eric’s slightly dampened smile to curl into a light smirk. 

From the looks of it, the doe-eyed boy seems to be in love with you too.

Eric looks at you again. “I’m really sorry about that,” he says honestly. “I definitely shouldn’t have been skating in the hall, but I’m glad you aren’t hurt. I hope I haven’t made you late to class?”

You shake your head, smile now focused. You’ve returned to the present. “You’re good,” you reply, briefly checking your phone. “I’ve still got a few minutes.”

“Well, just the same, if you ever want payback in some form or another, just ask around for Eric Sohn.” Picking up his board, Eric flashes you a smile, wishing slightly that your longing gaze was fixed on him, not the dimpled boy who’s long since disappeared. “I can buy you a coffee or something to make up for it.”

“Might take you up on that one of these days,” you grin. “I’m Y/N. Wanna exchange numbers so I can leech that coffee off of you?”

Heart thumping wildly, fingers tapping quickly, Eric enters his number into your phone, saving himself as Eric Sohn 💙. He hopes you don’t mind the emoji.

“Blue heart?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as you take the phone back. “Not a red one?”

Can’t exactly do that when it’s clear you’re in love, he thinks, though he doesn’t say that out loud. “Nah.” He shrugs. “Figured that’d be too much. Need to get to know you a bit before I do anything more, right?”

A sweet, soft smile spreads across your lips, and Eric has to fight hard not to melt at it. “I appreciate that, Eric,” you say, pocketing your phone. The way you say his name blooms in Eric’s ears. “See you later, maybe?”

Eric knows he probably shouldn’t make judgements so quickly, but it’s hard not to believe in your sweetness with your kind voice and gentle smile. You deserve love, he decides in that moment, with the doe-eyed, dimpled boy who clearly loves you back.

Mentally, he puts a stamp of approval on the mission formulating in his brain as he nods. “See you,” he says, grinning.

Even if he isn’t the one you’ll fall in love with, he can at least help a new friend find their happiness.

. . .

~ kevin

Kevin thinks there’s a special place in hell for lovebirds who clearly like each other but won’t even consider the notion of actually talking and maybe going on a god damn date.

And there’s an extra-special little island in that ocean of fire for such lovebirds who have never spoken a single word to each other in their lives and have only communicated through stupid smiles and mushy eyes and worst of all, motherfucking mating dances.

Yes, that’s what he calls your tiptoe-tap dance-whatever-the-fuck-they-are dances with Changmin. You hit him the first time he said it out loud, but what else can he call it? There’s no other term that fits the situation nearly as well. It’s weird and strange like most mating dances are, and most importantly, the two of you are head over heels in love.

“We’re not in love!” you snap when Kevin brings it up. “How can we be in love if we haven’t even spoken once?”

Kevin nearly spits out his drink.

“You’re telling me,” he enunciates slowly once he’s recovered, “that you have never spoken to this guy, the same guy you were worrying about to me yesterday because you didn’t see him in the hall on schedule, not even once?”

When you nod yes, scowling in embarrassment, Kevin legitimately faceplants into the table. He stays there for several whole minutes, trying to digest the situation and the sheer idiocy of two of his closest friends.

Doesn’t matter. You’re clearly in love, or at least have a very hopeless, incurable crush on Ji Changmin. And if Changmin’s face is anything to go by, he’s head over heels for you too – Kevin’s never seen his friend with that big of a smile on his face or that sparkly of a look in his eyes.

He wants to vomit just thinking of it.

Okay, fine, so maybe some of this abhorrent disgust is due to the fact that Kevin is single and not exactly ready to mingle after several disastrous blind dates. Maybe some of his annoyance at your mating dances is unfounded. But in his defense, the two of you are stupid as fuck.

He’s in the middle of complaining about this mating dance phenomenon to his freshman friend, Eric Sohn, when Eric puts out a hand. “Wait, stop,” he says, halting Kevin mid-complaint. “Are you talking about Y/N and that… that guy, with, like, really round eyes and a dimple?”

Kevin’s eyes narrow. “How do you know them?”

“Well, uh, I accidentally crashed into Y/N on my board while they were doing…” Eric helplessly waves his arms around.

“The mating dance,” Kevin supplies.

“That’s a horrible name, Kevin.”

“It’s the closest thing that explains it.”

“Well, whatever.” Eric cringes. “I gave Y/N my number in case they wanted me to like, buy a coffee or something in exchange for nearly committing a murder. So that’s how I know them. Not sure of the other guy’s name, though.”

Kevin sighs. “Ji Changmin.”

“THAT’S CHANGMIN?”

“Shut up!” Kevin snaps. “Just let the whole dorm hear your screaming, won’t you?”

“Sorry,” Eric snips back, though more quietly this time. “But you all talk about how he’s scary as shit and always dancing? He wasn’t dancing when he walked off, and he looks like… I don’t know, a child? I thought he was a freshman.”

“Wait.” Kevin puts his hands on Eric’s shoulders. “You just said Changmin wasn’t dancing when he walked off?”

Eric slowly shakes his head. “I don’t think so?”

“Oh, my dude.” Kevin begins shaking Eric back and forth. Eric’s head wobbles on his neck for several seconds before he comes to his senses and knocks Kevin’s hands off of his shoulders, scowling. “Eric Sohn, you are fucked.”

“What?” Eric’s eyes immediately turn panicked. “Why?”

“Ji Changmin dances all the fucking time,” Kevin says, putting his head in his hands. How has Eric already fucked up this badly in his first year? Kevin’s a mess, but he can say he’s solidly a B-level mess, meaning he more or less has his social shit together, even if not his academia. “If he wasn’t dancing when he walked away, that means he was pissed off.”

A beat of silence. Then – “Would it help if I had a semi-sort-of plan to get him and Y/N together?”

Kevin’s head snaps up. So maybe Eric isn’t entirely clueless. “So you know they’re literally in love with each other?”

Eric rolls his eyes. “It’s so obvious,” he whines. “Why haven’t you even thought to play Cupid?”

“Because Y/N is stupid and won’t admit that they have feelings, and I haven’t talked to Changmin that much this semester because we have different classes,” Kevin groans. “They’re both so stupid.”

“Eh.” Eric gets a faraway look in his eyes. “It’s hard for a lot of people to realize they’re in love.”

Silence falls as Kevin tries to pin down the familiarly weird feeling his friend is exuding. Eric’s gaze stays faraway, fixed on some point in the metaphorical distance (he’s staring at a wall covered in tacky posters and random sketches – there’s no way he’s enamored with Kevin’s half-baked drawings of trees and scissors and shit).

He looks sad.

“Oh, Eric.” Kevin’s frustration falls away as he pulls the freshman into a hug. “You like Y/N, don’t you?”

Eric doesn’t even deny it, he’s so far past that. “It’s stupid, Kevin. I’ll get over it, I always do. It’s just a crush.”

Not for the first time in his life, Kevin wishes he had his friend’s maturity, even though he wouldn’t enjoy the root cause. Falling in love as easily as Eric does would be too hard for Kevin to deal with. “Eric Sohn, you are one of the most selfless people in the world,” he declares. “You don’t have to do this, you know? If it hurts, you don’t.”

“No, Y/N deserves love.” Eric puts his chin on Kevin’s shoulder. Kevin takes the opportunity to pat his head. “Changmin does, too, and I think they’ll find it together. God knows he was staring holes into my back while we were talking.”

Kevin thinks he’s going to melt. “You’re dumb as fuck,” he says fondly, laughing at Eric’s squawk of indignation, “but you’re sweet. Too sweet for your own good.”

“… Is that a compliment?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be.” Kevin pulls back from his friend. “Ready to play Cupid?”

Eric nods, sadness partially replaced with mischievous fire. Kevin will take that much for now. “Yeah!”

. . . . .

~ changmin

Changmin doesn’t expect to be punched in the gut when he’s going with Younghoon to get a stupid cup of coffee.

Okay, no one actually punches him. But it certainly feels that way when he sees you sitting with the skater boy kid who knocked into you the other day, talking at a table by the window.

Younghoon doesn’t notice at first, just goes up to the counter to order at the (overpriced) campus Starbucks. Changmin loiters nearby, waiting for Younghoon to get his drink and come over, all the while trying to not obviously stare at you and the other kid having an animated conversation just a few feet away.

“What’s with the pout?” Younghoon asks, trying unsuccessfully to scare Changmin with his sudden presence. His own lips turning down with his failed attempt, he follows Changmin’s gaze to the two students sitting by the windows.

“I’m not pouting,” Changmin says, pout deepening.

Younghoon nearly spills his coffee, he snorts so hard. “Sure,” he says. “I’ll just pretend you’re not moping over someone you’re head over heels for whose name you don’t even know.”

If Younghoon actually spills his coffee when Changmin elbows him in the ribs, no one can tell. The look he gives the taller boy is enough to silence him for the next half an hour, at least.

He tries to focus, he really does. Though the drinks are overpriced, Changmin won’t deny that the coffee-scented air of the Starbucks is pleasant. It’s mid-afternoon, a time when most students are in class, so it isn’t too loud, either. But despite all of this, Changmin can’t focus on psychology. His eyes keep drifting over to the table by the window, where your conversation still hasn’t ended.

“Ji Changmin.” Younghoon waves a hand in front of his face after his concentration wanes for the umpteenth time. “You came here to study.”

This time, Changmin doesn’t deny the pout that settles on his lips. “I know,” he says, genuinely upset now. He wants to focus and get this studying done, he really does, but he just can’t put his mind to it.

Younghoon sighs. “Why don’t you just try talking?” he asks, eyes flickering over to where you’re still chatting animatedly with the skater boy. God, it’s been at least half an hour – haven’t you finished your drink? Why aren’t you gone yet? Why are you still here, invisibly punching Changmin in the chest every time you smile at the skater kid?

The words slip out of Changmin’s mouth before he can stop them. “What if they’re dating?”

There’s a moment of silence. Then Changmin realizes just what he’s indirectly admitted to his best friend.

Fuck.

“Well, that’s the first step.” Younghoon reaches over and pats Changmin on his slumped head. “Admitting your feelings. Proud of you, Changmin.”

Scowling, he slaps the hand off his hair, ignoring Younghoon’s yelp of indignation. “Not funny,” he whines, putting his head back down. “What if they are?” God, he should’ve helped you up before that skater boy did, run over and given you a hand first. Now skater boy’s on a date with you and Changmin feels…

Oh, God.

He’s jealous.

Shame and embarrassment flood his face at the realization. This is gross, his mind wails. Why does he feel jealous over you, someone he’s never even spoken to? The only semblance of interest you’ve given him is your initiation of the sidewalk dance. And maybe your smile.

Changmin’s pout deepens impossibly further. Actually, you probably give your lovely smile to every person you meet. He isn’t special. In fact, he’s betting that the skater kid fell for your smile too, the smile that makes it feel like stars are raining around his feet.

“Hey, earth to Changmin?” Younghoon waves a hand in front of his face. “You good?”

“No,” he replies, burying his head in his textbook again. “Leave me alone to mope.”

Younghoon just snorts, pats his head, then goes quiet, presumably back to studying. Meanwhile, Changmin doesn’t even bother to make a pretense of looking at his book anymore. He just stares into darkness.

Feelings, he decides, fucking suck.

. . .

~ you

Eric, you come to find, is a really fun guy. He might be a little awkward, but he’s clearly got a warm heart, and with every second you spend with him, you find yourself feeling more and more comfortable in his presence. With him, an entire hour and a half pass in a flash before you check your phone and realize you have class in less than ten minutes.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, hastily putting your things together. “Time passed so quickly. I didn’t keep you from doing anything important, did I?”

He just waves a hand. “Don’t worry!” The bright smile that’s been gracing his face this entire time grows even wider. “I don’t have a lot on my plate at the moment. It was fun talking to you.”

“Me, too.” You push your chair in. “Let’s do this again sometime? I’ll buy my own coffee, though.”

Eric’s grin makes him look like a puppy. You have the irrational urge to pat his head and coo. “Of course! See you later, Y/N.”

“See you.” Waving once, you exit the café, ready to head off to class.

Just outside the building, though, something makes you linger. You feel weird, like someone’s staring. Quickly, you look back through the window of the Starbucks. Eric’s still there, talking to a tall boy in one corner, but he isn’t looking at you.

Your gaze shifts, and invisible heat floods your cheeks as Ji Changmin stares back from behind the glass, seated at a table at the far end of the café.

He’s wearing glasses today, you notice blankly. They’re round, frame his eyes perfectly, and make him look god damn adorable.

Your heart flutters.

For a moment, you just stand there, rooted in place. What do I do here? you think desperately. What are you supposed to do when you’ve never actually spoken to him, only exchanged greetings in the form of weird dance steps (if they can even be called that) and, well, smiles?

Oh. Smiles.

Those work, you guess.

Slowly, you curl the corners of your lips into what you hope is a grin. It grows wider as Changmin smiles back, eyes crinkling and teeth showing as he waves to you from inside the café.

Your mood, already lightened by your conversation with Eric, skyrockets impossibly as you wave back, mouth splitting into a grin that stretches from ear to ear.

God, since when did just seeing Ji Changmin make you feel this happy?

In a moment of heightened stupidity, you point up to your eyes, drawing circles with your fingers in a motion that you hope indicates glasses. Changmin points to the frames on his face, and you nod, hands forming two thumbs ups, which your unthinking brain hopes will convey the fact that you really like how he looks with them on.

It feels like it should be impossible for Changmin’s smile to get any wider, but it does. Through the window, you watch him clap a hand to his mouth shyly, shoulders shaking slightly as he presumably laughs. It makes you laugh, too, and you wave one more time before walking away.

Then what you did actually hits you, and like that first time you stepped in Changmin’s path, you put your face in your hands and cringe as hard as your body will allow.

You really did that, you scold yourself. You really made circles with your fingers and gave him fucking thumbs ups because you liked his glasses.

You’re a fucking moron.

. . .

~ eric

When Eric walks up to Changmin’s table to talk to his friend, he immediately reevaluates his entire opinion of the doe-eyed boy.

His face is buried in the textbook when Eric starts approaching (which, first of all, mood). However, when he gets closer, Changmin lifts his head out of the pages and fixes him with the deadliest, pointiest glare that Eric has ever faced in his life.

Eric now sees why Kevin calls Changmin scary as fuck. The stare he gave when Eric crashed into you was nothing compared to this.

His eyes feel like daggers slowly slicing into Eric’s skin.

“Um.” Eric stops a couple feet away from the table Changmin’s sharing with the friend he needs to talk to. The friend looks up curiously, and Eric seizes the chance. “Can I, uh, talk to you? For a second?” he asks, desperately hoping they can get away from Changmin’s glare as soon as possible. “Please?”

The friend blinks once, then nods. “Be back in a minute, Changmin,” he says, about to stand up.

“Why can’t you talk to him here?”

Oh, God. If Eric wasn’t ready for the whiplash that came with seeing Changmin’s soft features versus his sharp glare, he really wasn’t ready for the soft tones of his voice contrasting with the venom blended in. Everything about Changmin, at first glance, screams innocence and sweetness.

What the fuck goes on behind that exterior?

“Um,” Eric stalls, desperately trying to think of an excuse. “I –”

“Don’t be rude, Changmin,” the friend cuts through smoothly, standing up. Eric immediately feels dwarfed by this guy’s long legs, but he doesn’t care as much as he normally might because he’s so glad he’s getting rescued. “Let’s go.”

The Starbucks isn’t large, but Eric follows the friend to a far corner, away from the table. Once they’re there, he clears his throat. “Um –”

“Are you dating them?” the tall guy interrupts. “The one you were here with before?”

Once the question settles in, Eric starts shaking his head violently. “No, no, I’m not. No. I just – well, I slammed into Y/N on my board, so I offered to buy coffee for us sometime to make up for it?” He tries to smile. “Not dating.”

“Oh, thank God.” The friend rubs his forehead. “Changmin was going to have an aneurysm.”

Well, that confirms that his near-death at the eyes of Ji Changmin wasn’t in vain. Relief and sadness run through Eric’s brain at the confirmation that yes, Changmin is head over heels for you. “Yeah, uh, I was actually going to ask about that.” He swallows. “Are you and Changmin close friends?”

A curious look. “Yeah, you could say that. Why?”

“Well, I don’t know if you know Kevin Moon, but he’s sick of watching Y/N and Changmin pine over each other without bothering to make a move,” Eric rushes out. He can still feel Changmin’s gaze boring holes into his skin. “But Kevin doesn’t have classes with Changmin this semester and he definitely hates my guts, so…” He sighs. God, this is harder than he thought it’d be. “Basically, are you tired of watching them pine, and do you have the time and energy to play Cupid with us?”

For a moment, Changmin’s friend just stands there, staring him right in the eyes Eric. Then a smirk spreads over his face. “Of course I do,” he says, now grinning like a god damn maniac. “Count me in.”

A breath of relief rushes out of Eric’s lips. “Thank God,” he mumbles. “Give me your number. We start plotting this weekend.”

His phone comes back to him with a new contact named Kim Younghoon in it. “Why are you doing this, anyway?” Changmin’s friend – Younghoon – asks as Eric puts the phone away. “What’s in it for you? Didn’t you only meet Y/N when you crashed?”

“Their pining is disgustingly obvious,” Eric says matter of factly. “I’ve been Kevin’s friend for years, and now I’m also Y/N’s. Why not alleviate both of their pain by getting them together?”

Younghoon looks at Eric, almost like he’s appraising him. Eric feels kind of like a bug under a microscope and he’s absolutely sure this tall guy is going to take back his agreement and call him weird before he suddenly smiles widely. “You’re cool,” Younghoon declares as though he’s just made a scientific discovery to rival Einstein’s photoelectric effect. “Looking forward to... whatever this is.”

With that, Eric ducks out of the café as fast as possible, leaving the smell of coffee and (thankfully) Changmin’s burning stares behind. Once outside, he pulls out his phone again and creates a group chat.

To: schemerz

Eric: younghoon and kevin say hi to each other

Kevin: hi younghoon

Younghoon: hi kevin

Step one of operation cupid is complete. Eric grins.

Eric: pack your bags boyz we begin scheming tomorrow

Younghoon: why do we need to pack bags

Younghoon: are we going somewhere

Okay, well, maybe this will take some time, Eric thinks, looking at Younghoon’s texts. But it can’t be that bad. You and Changmin are so obviously crushing on each other. It won’t take too much work to make get you two together, will it?

. . . . .

~ younghoon

Younghoon genuinely never knew that trying to get his best friend together with the person he likes could be this infuriating.

It’s not only that he has to continually reassure Changmin that no, skater boy – whose name is Eric Sohn, stop calling him skater boy, I can hear the “derogatory” even if you don’t say it out loud, Changmin – is not dating you, yes, he heard it with his own two ears, and yes, Eric said it with his own words. Saying this over and over, honestly, is annoying enough. Younghoon can deal with that, though. It’s just a product of Changmin’s own insecurity and lovesickness, nothing that he can control.

But actually trying to set the two of you up?

Torture.

They first devise a stroll at the mall, just to get you two to actually maybe talk. Kevin demands that this plan be put first because he cannot stop screaming over the fact that the two of you are so whipped but haven’t spoken a single word to each other ever.

Which, honestly, same. But at least Younghoon doesn’t yell about it in the group chat.

(Sometimes, looking at all of the capital letters in Kevin’s messages gives him a headache.)

The plan is to invite both you and Changmin to the mall, then ditch so the two of you will maybe actually exchange a few words with each other by the end of the day. It’s going pretty well – both of you have agreed to go, completely unaware that the other is showing up – but then you have to cancel because of a sudden quiz you need to study for the next day.

Well, fine. Younghoon just ends up shopping with Changmin for the entire afternoon (Eric still ditches for obvious reasons – cough, Changmin, cough – and Kevin has to study for the same quiz, which he curses about endlessly in the group chat for an entire day). Not a big deal. Younghoon likes clothes, and against his better judgement, he likes Changmin.

So no harm done. Besides, there’s always next time, right?

Wrong.

The university dance team has a concert coming up that Kevin begs you to go to, all under the guise of supposedly supporting one of his friends, Juyeon. When you show up at the venue, Younghoon can still tell you’re confused over why you’re there – you don’t really know Juyeon, he hears you hiss to Kevin, so what’s going on? – but you seem nice enough. Friendly enough. Younghoon likes you immediately. 

This plan isn’t as straightforward as the mall-ditching one. A certain Ji Changmin is one of the best dancers on the team, so he has his own solo halfway through the show. Younghoon proposes that Kevin force you to show up so you can melt over Changmin’s performance and either profess your love right then and there (which is the ideal case) or at least compliment the dancer on his skills. Either way, it gets the two of you to talk.

So, suffice to say, Younghoon is pissed when his well thought-out, perfectly structured plan falls apart when you have to leave before the end of the entire show because your roommate needs you to do something or the other that is somehow more important than you confessing your undying love for Changmin.

(Nothing, he complains later in the group chat, could be more important than that. Not even your roommate nearly setting the whole dorm on fire. Eric might beg to disagree, but Younghoon will just tell him to beg.)

Well, it kind of works out. Your roommate’s fuckup doesn’t happen until after Changmin’s performance, and Younghoon gets a front row seat to your jaw literally dropping when he comes onstage and starts dancing the way his dance major body always does. Younghoon legitimately thinks he could pick stars out of your eyes, the way you’re staring at Changmin. And even though you have a hand over your mouth, he can easily tell you’re smiling like no tomorrow.

So Younghoon gets the satisfaction of both seeing your reaction to Changmin’s performance and telling Changmin that his crush watched him dance. The wave of shock that immediately crawls up his best friend’s face makes Younghoon want to cackle and shake his head at the same time. It gets even better when Younghoon relates the look on your face as you watched and the compliments you told him to pass on.

Changmin has never smiled that widely or that shyly, ever. As his best friend since childhood, Younghoon will attest to that. It’s amazing and offensive and slightly gross.

God, Changmin’s whipped.

But this small success doesn’t make up for half of the entire plan that failed. You and Changmin still didn’t talk, after all, even if you fell even deeper in disgusting love. So Kevin advocates for a return to the simple method of making plans and ditching.

This time, it’s a movie that the schemer line (hey, Younghoon came up with that name – he thinks it’s a damn sight better than Kevin’s “The Boyz,” regardless of what the younger boy says) plans to ditch you two at. Kevin suggests horror, mainly because he’s not going to be there to watch it, but also because of the ages-old cliché where you’ll probably get scared and hold Changmin’s hand or some shit.

(Younghoon knows it won’t be the other way around not because of some sexist idiocy, but because Changmin laughs at possession and ghosts and keeps horror movie masks in his room to scare his friends with. He thinks Annabelle and Chucky are cute. Worst case scenario, you happen to enjoy horror too, and the two of you bond over your weird interests. Which isn’t even a worst case scenario, because you two will talk, and that’s the whole point of the plan.)

They really think it’s going to work this time. Kevin reports you arriving on time to the theater and immediately runs off so you won’t see him and start asking questions like why he’s hiding behind the potted bushes outside a nearby bistro. Younghoon and Eric wait with bated breath at the campus café for any last-minute updates before Kevin gets back.

When Kevin actually shows up at the café, having taken the bus back from the theater, they’re about to celebrate a plan finally completed. Younghoon thinks he’s going to start screaming from relief.

Then a text shows up on Kevin’s phone from you, asking why he never showed up.

Panic.

When they finally get their minds together, Kevin rattles something off about a family emergency and a call he had to take, which gets you off his back for a bit. But then he asks if you actually went to see the movie anyway.

It turns out you left fifteen minutes later when no one showed up.

No one.

Meaning Changmin never got there either.

Eric slams his head on the table. Kevin looks like he’s about to explode. Younghoon himself is about to throw his drink at something when he gets a text from Changmin mere minutes later, asking where he is and why no one’s at the theater.

breadhoon: it’s so late?? why didn’t you text earlier??

qminnie: the bus was late :/// why isn’t anyone here? I know it’s not just because the theater is dark, I walked around all the seats and couldn’t find you or kevin

Kevin starts screaming.

As Eric’s shoving a yelling Kevin out of the café and apologizing to the baristas, Younghoon just fires off a quick excuse to Changmin, who’s apparently still at the theater – I’m really sorry, my dad called about something and it ran super late, just watch the movie and let me know how it is – all the while internally screaming as loudly as Kevin physically is in this moment.

Later that evening, Kevin texts the group chat with the question on all of their minds.

moon boy: how is it that all of our plans fucking failed

Younghoon just wants to jump off the top of his dorm building.

It turns out that Eric, despite being the youngest of the three of them, has the most brain cells. He proposes something so simple but with the potential to be so effective that it blows Younghoon’s mind.

“Well, if ditching them to be alone doesn’t work, we might as well just be there,” he reasons over morning cups of coffee (courtesy of Kevin, who lost rock paper scissors and is still pouting over it). “Someone throws a party, we all show up, and we can play, like, mafia. Or truth or dare or whatever. That’ll get them to interact, probably.”

It’s a beautiful plan. Younghoon hugs the younger boy and proclaims him the smartest freshman he’s ever met (“I’m pretty sure I’m the only freshman you’ve talked to this year, Younghoon.”). Kevin praises the higher beings for the seven tenths of a working brain cell that Eric holds.

They work out the details quickly. Sangyeon will host the party – he holds one every other month anyway, so it won’t be too much trouble to let him know what’s going on. Besides, his parties are usually pretty controlled, so less risk of someone doing something illegal and freaking everyone out. Younghoon, of course, will bring Changmin. Kevin will bring you and Eric. In turn, Eric says he’s going to bring his friend, Sunwoo, because, quote unquote, “I need a freshman to keep me sane after dealing with you messes of upperclassmen.”

(Well. He has a point. Younghoon may look put together, but the only things that register in his thoughts most of the time are anime and bread. Kevin doesn’t even bother looking put together, which only speaks volumes about his level of brain chaos.)

“If this doesn’t work,” Kevin declares the moment they finish hashing out the plan, “I’m going to drown myself in one of the fountains.”

“It will work,” Eric says, determined. “It has to.”

Younghoon doesn’t say anything. All of their past failures have taught him to keep his mouth shut. However, if this plan fails, he’ll gladly jump into a fountain with Kevin and inhale water up his nose.

. . . . .

~ you

“You’re not going to ditch me, are you?” you ask for the umpteenth time, narrowing your eyes once more at your (now exasperated) friend.

“No,” Kevin groans, rubbing his temples. “I’m not going to ditch you, and for the last time, there were emergencies, okay?”

You want to give them the benefit of the doubt, you really do. Especially Eric – there’s no way he would do anything malicious to you on purpose (meanwhile, if Kevin was mad enough, he just might), he’s just too sweet. But first Kevin dragged you to this dance show that you’ve never been to before, which was weird enough, and the timing for that last movie cancellation was too coincidental to not be suspicious. If it was just him cancelling, you might not question it, but none of the three showed up.

Kevin’s planning something, probably with Eric and Younghoon. You just don’t know what.

“Uh huh.” You make sure to show your disbelief in those two words as you walk up the steps to Sangyeon’s house. “Damn, it’s been a long time since I’ve been here.”

“It’s so big,” Eric says from behind where he’s finally caught up to you two. His friend, Sunwoo, lingers quietly at his side, though his wide eyes betray his amazement.

“I always forget how big this place is,” Kevin agrees, ringing the doorbell. “Just stay on the ground floor, though, it’s not too bad. And watch your drinks. Sangyeon’s parties are usually pretty chill, but anything could happen.”

You snort. “Yes, Mom,” you mock, just as the host himself opens the door. “Hey, Sangyeon!”

“Y/N!” He pulls you and Kevin in for a short hug, then smiles at the visibly nervous freshmen standing behind you two. “Oh, hi! You must be Eric and Sunwoo, right?”

They just nod, still awed. Kevin stifles a snort as your lips curl into a fond smile – it’s weird to remember that you used to be a freshman just like them,. There isn’t much more time to think, though, because Sangyeon quickly ushers the four of you inside and all of your thoughts drown in the party’s chaos.

A couple of hours pass in mind-numbing peace. Kevin mixes you an atrocious cocktail that you pour down the sink when he isn’t looking. You watch Jacob shake his hips on the dance floor while Kevin twerks to Beyoncé. Even Eric and Sunwoo, who were originally just hovering around you, loosen up after a shot or two and find someone else they know to talk to, a freshman whose name you’re pretty sure is Hyunjoon.

Things are going well, you think in your tipsy haze. No one’s thrown up yet, no one’s passed out (well, Felix looks pretty sleepy, but he’s a sleepy drunk – how much Jisung already managed to give him to drink, you aren’t sure), and best of all, no one’s done anything stupid that’ll go viral on the school’s Snapchat. This is nice.

Then Kevin grabs you by the wrist, done twerking, and hollers unintelligible words in your ear as he drags you to the edge of the dance floor. He says more, but all you catch is “watch” and a yelled “YOUNG BOON.” Or something like that. 

Confused, you just try not to spill your drink as Kevin pushes you through the crowd that’s forming in the living room. There’s a lot of yelling and cheering as the music changes, and then someone gets pushed to the middle of the dance floor.

A hand flies to your mouth.

It’s Changmin.

“Kevin,” you hiss. “Kevin! That’s Changmin!”

Even drunk, your friend manages to give you the most judgmental look you’ve ever seen. “No shit, Sherlock,” he snaps. “Just watch!”

For a moment, Changmin just stands in the middle of the circle that’s formed, eyes wide and doe-like (and absolutely fucking adorable, even under the red lighting). Then something in him shifts – it nearly gives you whiplash – and the dancer Changmin you saw that day Kevin dragged you to the concert comes out in full force.

It’s short, his performance, much shorter than the five-minute long solo he had at the concert. But holy fuck, it’s explosive. Even the smallest flicks of his fingers seem to send off sparks of light, red glinting off his face and the buttons on his shirt.

He has you captivated, so much so that you don’t register Kevin shifting until he’s positioned almost directly behind you. Changmin’s dance is winding down, a softer look coming back into his previously focused eyes, and everyone’s cheering and starting to clap before a harsh shove sends you sprawling forward.

For a moment, you stand right in front of Changmin, eyes undoubtedly wide with confusion as the situation filters through your muddled brain. Embarrassment begins to spread through your body as people begin to chant, “DANCE! DANCE! DANCE!”

Fuck. 

This must have been Kevin’s plan.

Whipping your head around, you try to find and glare at your friend (you’re seriously rethinking that title), but he’s already disappeared. You then try to shrink back into the crowd, but they don’t let you. Someone plucks the cup from your hand, erasing your last excuse for leaving the circle of screaming partygoers as you look around desperately for a way out.

Then a hand extends into your vision, fingers twitching in a gesture you’ve come to associate with a certain person at a certain time at a certain place, two ten p.m. on Mondays and Wednesdays just inside the literature building.

Slowly, you look up to see Changmin shyly smiling back, eyes glinting in the way you’ve come to (not so) secretly adore.

A grin unconsciously spreads across your face as he launches back into his dance, more laid-back and flowy this time, much like the moonwalks he does down the halls at school. Almost on instinct, you lurch into his space, barely managing to brush over his foot as he nimbly steps away.

On a normal day, the dance you do is already messy and weird to passersby – you’ve made your way onto at least one of the university Snapchat stories already – so you can’t imagine how this looks in the moment. It must seem so uncoordinated, especially with your limbs loose with alcohol (Changmin still moves as steadily as ever, what the fuck) and the fact that you can’t really see where you’re stepping in the dim red light of the room. But it doesn’t matter – Changmin’s grinning so widely and you’re laughing, really laughing, loud enough to overpower what you think is Kevin’s yelling (it sounds something like “WHY ARE YOU DOING YOUR FUCKING MATING DANCE AND NOT DANCING LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?”, so it must be him), and everyone’s cheering and clapping and even though you can see a few phones being pulled out, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters is your fingers brushing against Changmin’s, his laugh ringing in your ear, and the smiles on your faces until –

Until Changmin grabs your outstretched hand, tangling his fingers in yours, and encircles your waist with his free hand before dipping you down until his face hovers just a foot above yours.

Someone’s screaming, someone that definitely sounds like Kevin, but you can’t process it. Everything feels like you’re underwater – muffled, blurred, indecipherable. All you can think of is how fast your heart is beating, how hot your face feels, and how intensely Changmin is staring into your eyes.

Holy shit.

You can barely breathe.

When Changmin eventually lets you up to screams and hoots, your knees almost buckle. If not for his fingers still entangled in yours, you probably would’ve collapsed, but he seems to sense this and grips your hand even tighter.

The smile can’t leave your face, even though it turns smaller and shyer as the crowd disperses and you’re left holding Changmin’s hand for no reason. You should let go, probably, but you don’t want to, and Changmin doesn’t seem uncomfortable with it either. Still, the physical link between you two only grows more and more obvious as the two of you stand in silence, unable or unwilling to speak.

Changmin finally breaks it. “Hi,” he says in this voice that legitimately makes you want to crumble into the ground. It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s something entirely uncharacteristic yet at the same time so fitting for the boy who just danced his heart out on Sangyeon’s living room floor. “I’m Changmin.”

Your voice leaves you, and the minute you take to find it feels like an eternity. These are your first words to him, your mind screams – don’t say anything stupid!

Staring into his sparkling doe eyes, you swallow hard before saying your first words to the boy who may or may not have already stolen your heart.

“Hi,” you say, smile threatening to grow even wider, wide enough to split your face. “I’m Y/N.”

. . .

~ changmin

He’s only heard three words from you, but Changmin thinks he could drown in your voice. It’s lovely, smooth in a way that flows over his body like warm spring rain. Willingly, he would stand under the shower of your gentle tones, putting his face to the sky and letting your words wash over him, soothing his skin.

Vaguely, his mind tells him that it’s way too early to start waxing poetic about your voice. You’ve only spoken three words to him, for fuck’s sake – what is he even doing?

A whisper that sounds suspiciously like Younghoon floats through his brain. You’re whipped.

Well. He just might be.

“Isn’t this kind of weird?” you suddenly say, jerking Changmin out of his you-induced haze. The smile on your face is a little embarrassed, now, and he catches you glancing at your fingers still linked with his. Briefly, he wonders if he should let go – he’s the one who first grabbed your hand, after all, what if you’re uncomfortable? – but you don’t seem to hate it. If anything, your smile grows a little shyer.

Changmin may think horror movie dolls are cute, but your smile is even cuter. He might melt right then and there.

Belatedly, he realizes you’re looking at him, waiting for a response. “Um – weird?” he replies, praying that his voice doesn’t crack.

(It doesn’t, not this time. Thank the lord.)

You look down again, this time at your feet. Probably out of embarrassment. “I mean,” you say, silvery voice tickling Changmin’s ears, “we’ve been interacting for at least several months.” The full force of your smile hits Changmin as you raise your head. “But we’ve barely spoken a word to each other.” When you laugh, he hears bells. “Isn’t that strange?”

“Well, when you put it that way, yeah.” Changmin giggles (yes, he fucking giggles, what the hell, why can’t he sound any cooler than he really is?). “But I think it was lucky. Well, I think I was lucky to meet you.”

He wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. He wasn’t fucking supposed to say that – what’s wrong with him? He used to be so good at watching his words – but at least, despite his embarrassment at having revealed this part of him, he gets to see you flustered. It’s adorable, he thinks, so much more adorable than anything else in the world. “How come you, um, stepped in my way that first time?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Changmin doesn’t expect the embarrassed snort that comes out of your mouth, but it makes him laugh. “You know that meme, the one where it’s like ‘why are you doing this?’ and your brain just says ‘you gotta?’” Rolling your eyes slightly, you snicker. “That’s what went through my mind. You never bump into anyone, so, well, someone had to try to mess you up.”

Changmin’s going to print a hundred copies of that meme and tape them all over his dorm. He will never be so grateful for a stinking Internet horcrux in his entire life.

Well, okay, he’s probably exaggerating. But still.

“That’s mean,” he says, purposely pouting his lips. “Why would you want to mess me up?”

You elbow his ribs, giggling. “Someone has to bring the king down at some point.”

Changmin’s about to take advantage of his current burst of confidence to respond to that – “You think I’m the king?” – and possibly fluster you even more, but someone’s yelling “LOVEBIRDS!” in a voice that sounds a little too much like Kevin’s. Both of you turn around instinctively, which probably only fuels the lovebird fire (though Changmin can’t bring himself to care at the moment).

“WE’RE PLAYING MAFIA!” someone else – is that Jaehyun? Probably – yells. “GET OVER HERE!”

“Mafia?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “That…”

Changmin can hear the exasperated apprehension in your voice. He hears it in his own whenever his friend group gets together to play the game. “Let’s just see what happens,” he suggests, trying hard not to melt when you look over at him. “Someone might do something stupid?”

Your laughter sounds like sparkles, wind chimes twinkling in the breeze. Changmin wonders what he wouldn’t give to hear it for the rest of his life. “You’re right, you’re right.” Glancing once more (and smiling a little wider) at your still-linked hands, you jerk your head in your friends’ direction. “Shall we?”

As he nods, Changmin privately thinks that there’s nothing in the world that could dissuade him from following you.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this stupid oblivious couple GOD)

[moldisgoodforyou]

ten voicemails

wordcount: 2.6k

______

Through the entirety of Rafe and Sophie doing long distance, he had been great about keeping it to himself that he missed her. He knew that sharing it once in a while was alright, but too much and he was convinced he’d make her upset and ruin her study abroad experience - the last thing he wanted to. He even put his phone away most times if he was going to get drunk, knowing he’d probably end up drunkenly confessing something he shouldn’t. He had a great track record - until he didn’t. 

He had to admit, he was feeling himself. Earlier that day, he’d FaceTimed her after his long-overdue haircut appointment, at her request. She had answered the phone in a hurry, walking to her metro stop with her bag slung over her shoulder and hadn’t really looked too closely at the screen, more just listening through her headphones. When she finally glanced at him she stopped in her tracks abruptly, nearly bumping into someone. “Oh my god, look at you!” 

He raised his eyebrows, running his hand through his hair nervously. He had let the hairdresser do whatever she wanted and she had gone for a shaggier cut that made his hair curl a little at the ends, a little trendier than he expected. “Is it that bad?” 

“No! No, no, not at all - did you ask for that cut? That’s not your normal.” 

He shrugged, still a little wary of her reaction. “No, I just let her do something new. It’s okay, right?” 

“Fuck, that’s hot,” she cursed, trying to be quiet as people moved around her in the busy street. 

He seemed to brighten almost immediately, his chest puffing up and cheeks turning a little pink. “Yeah? You think so?” 

“Absolutely.” Sophie glanced around, bringing the mic on her earbuds a little closer to her mouth as she spoke. “I cannot describe what I want to do to you right now, because I think I might get cited for public indecency, but holy hell. You look great, baby.” 

He beamed, but shook his head. “You’re just saying that because we haven’t seen each other in more than two months and you’re horny.” 

“I’m not! I’m not, I swear.” She laughed. “Look, I gotta go or I’ll be late to work, but we can talk later, okay? You look hot, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” 

That conversation alone had boosted his ego to the moon. He’d gotten off work early - thank you, summer Fridays - and immediately convinced James and Colin into day drinking. They had just moved into their senior house a week ago and Rafe felt miles better not being under the pressure of living with Colin’s parents, as hospitable as they were. 

Once the three of them were sufficiently drunk by five, they ordered multiple pizzas and indulged enough so they were somewhat sober again. Rafe had the brilliant idea of leaving Sophie voicemails every time they made the move to a new spot, keeping her updated. “Sophie! Sophie, baby, hello. We’re walkin’ to the Varsity Club now, then we’re gon’ get drunk again.” 

“I think you’re still drunk.” Colin pointed out, reaching for Rafe’s phone. “Hi Sophie!” 

“James, say hi.” Rafe ordered, holding the speaker toward him. James nodded and waved and Rafe was satisfied, despite the fact it was just a voicemail. “He says hello. Anyways, just giving you the update. I don’t think my typing fingers are all here ready to go, so m’ just gonna call you. Love you!”

That continued through the night as the boys got more drunk and got more indecipherable, with some yelling into the phone (“Sophie! James is hitting on a girl!”) and some accidental calls where the only audio was the muffled music in the background. Once they finally stumbled out of the bars at closing time, all on their way to a miserable hangover when they woke up later that day, Rafe dug out his phone again to call Sophie. 

She typically kept her phone’s ringer on, just in case he needed her, but when she was woken up for the fifth time in the middle of the night, she had to silence it. However, she’d also seen how at least one of the boys got hurt every time all three of them got drunk, so she could hardly sleep well anyways. She groaned when her phone lit up again with yet another voicemail from Rafe, this time of him singing Just The Two of Us horribly off-key. 

“Jesus Christ, Rafe, that’s like your tenth voicemail.” James shook his head, amused, trying to grab the phone away from him. He made a noise of protest, standing on his toes and holding the phone out of James’ reach. “No! Gotta keep Sophie updated, I promised I’d check in.” 

“Good thing she loves you, because even this would be too much for me.” Colin jested, throwing his arm around Rafe’s shoulders to keep him supported as they walked out the bar. “No, she’s in love with me. There’s a difference.” He corrected with a scowl. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Colin argued. 

“Does too matter. In love is like...” Rafe trailed off, thinking, then grinned. “It’s like when it’s finally spring again and you get to sit in that first warm patch of sun.” 

James rolled his eyes. “Okay, dummy. You’re a fuckin’ sap.” 

“M’ not. Not at all.” Rafe argued, fumbling with his phone. Colin plucked it out of his hand, raising his eyebrows. “What the fuck are you trying to do, dude?”

“Gotta check in.” Rafe insisted, grabbing it back and finally finding the FaceTime app and jabbing it with his thumb. Sophie picked up after a few rings, squinting with messy hair and reached to flick on a lamp. “What.”

“Baby!” He exclaimed, grinning. “Angel, look, I’m with my friends, you know them.” He turned the phone to show Colin and James and they waved, Colin rolling his eyes.

“Okay. Do you know what time it is here?” She yawned, pulling the blankets tighter around herself.

“No, how many times is it?”

She raised her eyebrows at his slurred speech and the unfocused look in his eyes. “Holy hell, you’re wasted, aren’t you?”

“No no no.” Rafe shook his head quickly. “No drinkings tonight. Nothing.”

“Not good to lie to your girlfriend, Rafe.” James teased and Sophie scowled. “He’s right. No lying.”

“Okay, fine. I had...um...two drinks. That’s all.”

“No you didn’t.”

“No I didn’t.” He agreed, nodding. “It was seven. Eight. Nine.”

“Alright. Are you safe? M’ kind of tired, baby.”

Both the boys grinned to each other, making a mental note to give him shit for the pet name later. Rafe ignored them, not looking away from the screen once. “My liver might not be safe.”

She snorted, nodding. “Okay. Can I go back to sleep?”

“No. If you’re already up then we can talk.” He insisted and she groaned, dropping her face into her pillow. “Rafe, no. I’m hanging up, I went to bed at three.”

“You’re not hanging up on me. You need to get more sleep though, your schedule’s out of whack. Hey, remember when we used to fight?”

She lifted her head slowly, annoyed. “Yes.”

“Are we fighting right now?”

“Will you let me hang up?”

“No.”

“Then yes. We’re fighting.” She rolled her eyes as his face dropped and he put on a big frown. “No! I don’t like fighting Sophie and Rafe. You know what, though?”

“What?”

“We missed out on a hate fuck.”

“Rafe!” She hissed immediately, turning bright red. “James and Colin are right there.”

“S’okay, they know I liked you for evers.”

“They don’t need to know about our sex life -”

“We know way too much about your sex life.” James interrupted, swatting Rafe upside the head just because he could. “So it’s kind of useless to be embarrassed about it now.”

“Oh my god.” She covered her face with her hands, shaking her head. “Rafe, keep your mouth shut.”

He was completely unbothered and sent her a dopey grin. “Okay. Hey, when we get married, are you gonna let me buy the ring?”

Suddenly she was wide awake and she rubbed her eyes, unsure if she heard him correctly. “Hold up, you said when?”

“Yes, when. I don’t want to have to stick to your budget, you deserve the biggest damn diamond ever.”

Colin and James exchanged a glance as they walked up ahead of Rafe, a little wary of the conversation he was setting himself up for but too drunk themselves to care.

“Um. Who said we’re getting married?”

He frowned, sighing heavily like the topic was exhausting. “We are. You know it, I know it.”

Sophie hummed in response, unsure of how to answer that. “Okay then. That’s, um. Nice of you to say.”

“You have to promise me one thing.” 

She took a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m not sure I want to be promising anything to you right now -” 

“I want you to wear a garter so I can take it off with my teeth on our wedding night.” He insisted, looking way too serious as he told her. “We’re going to get married, or you wouldn’t have moved your ring.” 

She blushed and hoped he couldn’t tell from the dim glow of the lamp, ignoring his request. “I moved it because it fits better on my ring finger.” 

“I’m sure you did.” He nodded, placated, and she was grateful he didn’t press it further. “I wish you were here, it’s more fun getting drunk with you.”

“Hey!” James spun on his heel and Colin had to grab at him to keep him upright. “We’re plenty fun!”

“Are you gonna make out with me then cuddle? I don’t think so.” Rafe shot back, grinning when Sophie laughed.

“Rafe got hit on tonight.” Colin informed her, breaking into a round of giggles with James as Rafe sent them a glare. 

“You got hit on? Was she pretty?” Sophie raised her eyebrows, trying to hide a small smile. 

“Um…” Rafe trailed off, trying to form a complete thought. “She was nice.” 

“Yeah? Just nice?” 

He nodded decidedly. “Just nice.” 

“Practically flashed you.” James argued. “That’s more than just nice.” 

The girl had leaned over the bar to say hi to Rafe, giving him a view down her shirt - he had immediately blushed red and shoved Colin forward, telling her Colin was single but Rafe was most definitely not. 

“Bold.” Sophie commented, yawning. “Good for her.” 

Rafe narrowed his eyes a little. “You’re not mad?” 

“Did you flirt back?” 

“No! Of course not!” He exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously. 

She shrugged. “That’s what I thought. I’m not mad, I have no reason to be. Can I go back to sleep now, please?” 

“Pay attention, Rafe.” Colin called out, glancing behind him to see Rafe nearly walking into a streetlight pole as he kept his eyes trained on the screen. 

“No. You get to hang out with me.” He decided and she grumbled, but rolled onto her side and set the phone up hands-free so she could at least watch him get home safely. 

“Hey, Sophie!” James butted his head against Rafe’s to get in view of the screen, making him yelp. 

“Hi James.” 

“Remember you gotta come home soon. If you don’t, Rafe’s gonna be sad and I can’t have my buddy being sad.” He told her seriously, slinging his arm around Rafe’s shoulders. 

She laughed, nodding. “I’ll come home, don’t worry.” She grinned. “I would miss you and Colin too much.” 

“Hey!” Rafe exclaimed, indignant. “What about me?” 

“What about you?” 

He was about to open his mouth and make his case when he tripped on the uneven sidewalk and his phone clattered to the ground. James cracked up, picking up the phone and flipping the camera to show Rafe in someone’s front yard, lying next to a crumpled metal sign. “Get up, dumbass.” 

“Wait, no, hold on, is he bleeding?” Sophie frowned, suddenly more attentive. 

“Noooo. M’ fine.” Rafe insisted, clapping his hand over a slice down his arm. 

“Show me your arm, Rafe.” She commanded and he scowled but obliged, showing her a small but deep cut on his forearm and the blood trailing out of it. She nearly retched but squeezed her eyes shut instead for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Where’s Colin? Is he sober?” 

“Here!” Colin had gotten a solid block ahead of them, wandering, then jogged back once he realized his friends had stopped. “Damn, dude.” He mumbled, just standing there and watching Rafe bleed. 

“Jesus Christ.” Sophie muttered. “Okay. Can one of you get an Uber to the hospital? Please?” 

James handed the phone to Colin and took off his shirt, tapping it ultra-gently against Rafe’s cut, effectively doing nothing. “Mine’s dead.” 

“I didn’t bring my phone.” Colin added, then squinted as he finally got a good look at her. “You look tired, you should sleep more.” 

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to lose her composure. “Where are you guys?” 

“Dunno.” Colin turned in a circle, nearly tripping over his feet. “Oh! We’re by the stadium.” 

“Alright. I’m going to hang up and call my friends to come get you, do you promise to stay there?” 

“Sophie?” Rafe asked, his voice a little weak. 

“Yeah, Rafe?” 

“If I bleed out and die, I need you to know that I love you and I miss having sex with you.” 

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s sweet. You’ll be fine. Stay there, okay? I need a promise from all of you.” 

The boys all mumbled a chorus of “I promise,” and she hung up, satisfied, then immediately called Allie and Julia to go pick them up. Luckily they were both sober and corralled the boys into Allie’s car, taking the phone from Rafe to keep Sophie updated. Once they made the short drive to the emergency room, Julia opened the door to help Rafe out, making Allie’s car light turn on. He groaned and threw his uninjured arm over his eyes, squinting. “I can’t go to the light. I gotta make it for my girl.” 

“That’s not - that’s the car light, Cameron.” Julia told him, tugging to get him out. He stayed limp like a ragdoll, shaking his head. “Tell Sophie I love her.” 

“You’re not dying. Get out of the car.” Sophie commanded from the FaceTime call. Rafe snapped his head up toward the sound. “I hear her.” 

“What on earth did you drink?” Allie asked incredulously, taking the phone from Julia. “Look, can we just text you when we’re out? Airhead here is gonna be too distracted.” 

Sophie laughed, running her hand over her face. “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you for putting up with him.” 

Julia grumbled, finally tugging Rafe out of the car with James’ assistance. “He owes us a bottle of some good wine after this.” 

Two hours later, Rafe was fresh out of the hospital with a tetanus shot and three stitches, and a promise to detail Allie’s car in order to get the blood off of her leather seats (which she had just easily cleaned with a Clorox wipe). He was still a little drunk, but not nearly at the same level when the girls texted her a picture of him with a dopey grin and two fingers up on one hand, then one finger on the other. 

Allie: your boyfriend is a nightmare drunk

Sophie: unfortunately

what are the fingers supposed to mean

Julia: he said it stands for two and a half weeks until he sees you 

Sophie: aw. you two are the best, seriously 

Allie: a boyfriend of yours is a boyfriend of ours

taglist: @whoeveniskendall @kkmaybank @karsinner @outerbanksbro @outerbankspreferences @randomficsandshit @sunshineitsfine44 @jailcalledlife @tovvaa @moniamaybank @illbesafeforyou @dontjinx-it @freddymaybank @jjmaybankzz @g4bster @oopsiedoopsie23 @babygal-babygal @thecuthoney

[atlafan]

One Last Time - One Shot

a/n: heavily inspired by Let Me Love You Goodbye lmao. I didn’t proofread, sorry!

Warnings: smut and angst

Words: 8K

After months of bottling things up, they finally had the discussion they needed to have. They argued a little, but never really raised their voices. Tears had taken over them at some point, and when they had both calmed down, they were able to think and speak more rationally. It was over. A year and a half over and done, just like that. It wasn’t from a lack of trying or a lack of love. They loved each other very much, it just wasn’t enough anymore. Sometimes when two part start to grow up, they grow apart instead of growing together. This is what happened with Harry and Y/N.

“I’ll stay in the guest room tonight. Meg said I could move in with her. She’s been looking for a roommate anyways.”

“So…you’ve discussed us breaking up with her before you even discussed it with me?” He was hurt, of course he was.

“She’s my best friend, Har. I told her how I was feeling and how I wouldn’t really know what to do if things ended with us, and well…she offered.” His eyes were still puffy. His lips part to say something, but there wasn’t much else left to say. “I’ll need some time to get all of my things, divide up the shared items…but I should able to do it while you’re at work.”

“I’ll stay in the guest room, you can stay in the bed.”

“No, I…I don’t want to.”

“Why not? Now the bed’s not good enough for you?” It was a jab, one that he needed it get in.

“The guest bed doesn’t smell like you, like us.” She says quietly, and his face softens more. She blinks away a few more tears and takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I wish things could be different.”

“Me too.” She laughs to herself and he raises an eyebrow. “At least I can say the first boy I ever truly loved, loved me back, and it was good.” She stands up and wipes her face. “I’m gonna get settled for bed…not that I think I’ll be able to sleep much.” She sighs.

“Me neither. Go on, do what you need to do, I’ll give you your privacy.”

“Thanks.”

//

Every night when Harry got home from work there were more and more things missing from his home. First, she cleared out all her toiletries from their shared bathroom. Her special hair color shampoo and conditioner, her Dove soap for sensitive skin, all of her raisers, not even a box of pads or tampons. One would never know a woman had lived there. Then it was her clothes. She had about six different mental breakdowns packing her clothes, not that he would know. She had to stand there looking at the closet and decide if she wanted to keep any of the sweatshirts she had taken form him over the years. T-shirts, sweatpants, bandanas, scrunchies, so many things they just shared. She decided just to keep one of each, her very favorites, and leave the rest for him. This caused him to breakdown. He wanted her to keep these things, he wanted her to keep part of him. Her next task, he realized, was the kitchen. Her favorite mugs were gone. She had a knack for collecting them. They had a shared home office that she had to finish packing up. That was about it, though. He had all the furniture they needed when she moved in. He wondered what she was doing for a bed at Meg’s. He thought to ask her if she wanted to take the guest bed, but he knew she was would just say no.

Y/N knew the last time she would go to pick up her last bit of things, she would be leaving the keys to the once shared home behind. Meg said they could go out for brunch once it was done, so she made sure to doll herself up. She did her hair and makeup, and put on a cute red crop top with some mom jeans. She looked cute, yet casual. She took a deep breath as she pulled into the driveway. She took an even deeper one when she keyed into the house. She walks all the way to the back where the office is and gasps when she sees Harry at his desk, headphones on, typing away at his computer. He jumps when he turns and sees her.

“Christ.” He says, taking his headphones off. He looks her up and down. Why did she look so good? Did she always dress up like this when she’d come by to pick up her things.

“Why are you home…here?” She corrects herself. This wasn’t home anymore.

“I didn’t have any meetings today, so I thought I’d work from home. You didn’t tell me you were coming by today.” He stands up and rubs the back his neck.

“I didn’t think I had to.” She looks at her boxes and moves to go pick one up.

“Let me do that.”

“No, I’ve got it.”

“Please, it’s the least-“

“Harry, it’s too weird! I don’t want you helping me move out, okay? It’s too much.” She picks up a box and moves down the hall. He watches as she comes in and out four separate times. The last time she comes in she takes the keys off the key ring and sets them down on his desk. “That was everything, bye, Harry.”

He grabs her wrist just as he’s turning.

“You’re sure? You double checked everything?”

“Yes.”

“I think you left some clothes upstairs.”

“No way.” She shakes her head. “That’s impossible.”

“Will you at least come up and look?”

“Alright.” She sighs. “But then I need to go.”

He nods and gestures for her to go first. He watches her as she walks up the stairs. Why did she have to wear this outfit? She knew he loved when she dressed like this. It was so simple, but she made it look so good. And she was wearing a very particular shade of lipstick that he liked on her. She was also wearing the perfume she knew he liked most. What was she trying to do?

“Show me what you think I left.” She says, crossing her arms.

He looked good today too. He was just in a simple t-shirt and grey joggers. Those damn grey joggers.

“These sweatshirts, they’re not mine.” He tosses them on the bed.

“They are.”

“But you wore them more.”

“So that makes them mine? I don’t want them.”

“Neither do I.”

“So, get rid of them.”

“Nice of you to let me do that.” He huffs and shakes his head. “And why did you come around here looking like this, hm?”

“Looking like what?”

“Don’t act so innocent.”

“I had no idea you’d be home. I’m going to brunch after this, and-“

“Must be nice to have an appetite.” He scoffs.

“Hey!” She snaps. “This is a mutual breakup, Harry. Neither of us were happy, and noting we did helped.”

“Doesn’t mean this part doesn’t suck. You’re leaving, you’re really leaving, and…I’m never going to see you again.”

“We have mutual friends, we’ll see each other.”

“But we’ll do what all people do when they breakup. We’ll share an awkward smile, and then we’ll avoid each other the rest of the time.”

“What do you propose we do then? We agreed we shouldn’t really contact each other unless it was an emergency.” She looks down. “You’re dressed how I like too, you know? It’s not just me.”

“I literally had no idea you’d be coming here today. Also, I’m just in sweats, what’s so special about that?”

“What’s so special about a fucking crop top and jeans?!”

“It’s because you’re wearing it.” He steps closer to her. “We always makeup after a fight, and this time we didn’t.”

“Because we broke up, Harry. We don’t need to makeup.”

“I just don’t think we’re getting a proper goodbye.” He whispers as he cups her cheeks, making her look at him. “You’re about to walk out of my life…can’t we just…”

“Are you asking to have sex with me?” She was shocked. They hadn’t had sex in a really long time.

“Just one last time.”

She’s be lying if she said she didn’t want to. Why not go out with one last bang? All she does is nod her head yes. He leans in, but she backs away.

“Don’t kiss me.”

“Y/N.” He frowns.

“I can handle the rest, but don’t kiss me on the mouth, please.”

He moves some of her hair away.

“Where can I kiss you then?”

Her face flushes. They hadn’t had sex in a while, and they certainly hadn’t done that. Would it be so wrong to ask him to do it…just one las time?

“Anywhere but my mouth.”

His hands move to her hips to pull her close as he mouths at her neck, and just under her ear. Her hands move up to his hair to tug at it how he likes. His hands slides up her back to pull off her top. He takes his own and then unhooks her bra. He brings them both back to the bed for her to straddle him. He presses their chests close as he kisses on her neck. It was difficult not to kiss her, and that’s when he realizes he had taken it for granted. She rolls her hips down on him, causing him to groan. He needed this, he really did. He needed her so badly.

He grips her hips and places her on her back. He gets between her legs to undo her jeans. He pulls them down on her legs, she lifts her hips up to get her under wear off. She was breathing heavily. He knew what she wanted. He dips his head down to suck on one of her nipples while his fingers slide around her folds. When he pushes them inside her, she gasps and tightens around him. His thumb rubs on her clit as he works his fingers. She grips at his hair and pushes his head down further.

“Harry, please…I’ll return the favor, just please…”

He nods and moves down her body, finally wrapping his lips around her clit while he continued to finger her. Her hips move in sync with his fingers. Harry was always really good at this, there was no denying that.

“Oh my god, that’s ittttt.” She moans.

Harry felt like a fool. Why hadn’t they done this in a while? If they had would it have made a difference? Listening to her moan was almost torture because he knew after today he’d never get to hear the beautiful sound again.

“Shit, oh fuck, Harry!” She nearly screams as she comes on his fingers. He retracts them so he can suck on her center, bringing her way over the edge. “Fuck.” She breathes.

She watches as he sucks his fingers into his mouth to clean them off. He stands up to take his joggers off. He was commando under them. He lays on the bed next to her, and she gets between his legs. She spits into her hand before gripping him. She pumps him a few times before wrapping her lips around his tip. She listens to him grunt appreciatively. She sinks a little further down, but she doesn’t take much. She never could. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t get her gag reflex under control. Harry never minded, felt best around his tip anyways.

“Feels so good.” He groans. “But I need to be able to fuck you.”

She pops off him, and crawls up his body, lining him up with her. She sinks down on him, and she nearly came from the feeling of him stretching her out alone. How the fuck was she supposed to move on and find someone else when Harry literally had the perfect dick. And she was just supposed to live with knowing that some other girl was going to be able to know him like this? It was bullshit. She was angry with him, and with herself. The entire situation was complete shit.

She bounces up and down on him at first, taking control of the pace, but he doesn’t let her for long. He pulls her close to him, and thrusts up into her. He essentially moves her up and down on him. She clutches at his shoulders, nails scratching at his tan skin. One of his hands snakes between them so he can rub her clit.

“Harry.” She whimpers.

“Like that?”

“Yes.” She says into his ear. “Faster.”

He rubs her faster as she moves up and down on him. She comes again, easily. Just as she’s coming down form her high, she’s being put on her back. Harry fucks in and out of her nice and hard.

“God.’ She groans. “So good, Harry.”

“Like it like this? Nice and hard?”

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

She can feel herself starting to tear up, so she grabs him by the back of the neck to pull him down. His face goes to the crook of her neck, and he rocks in and out of her.

“Can I?” He asks.

“Yes.”

His pace quickens and before she knows it, he’s coming inside her. Maybe it was a little irresponsible, but she was on the pill, and just wanted to feel all he could give her one last time. They were both glossy eyed when they looked at each other. After getting cleaned up and dressed, he walks her down to the front door. He hugs and holds her close, kissing the top of her head.

“Goodbye.” She whispers.

“Bye.”

He closes the door and rests his forehead against it, bursting into tears. She cried too, the entire way to meet Meg for brunch. She had tissues in the car, luckily, so she looked perfectly normal. She didn’t tell Meg about her abrupt and passionate romp with Harry. She didn’t want to be scolded or be told she was stupid for once again giving him exactly what he wanted.

//

“That’s impossible, I’m on the pill.”

“Sometimes birth control fails, Y/N.” Her doctor told her. “When was the last time you had sex?”

“Two months ago.” She groans. “With my ex-boyfriend. I don’t understand, I hadn’t missed a pill or anything.”

“It just happens sometimes.” She says, trying to be as sympathetic as possible.

“How far along am I then?”

“About ten weeks.”

“How could I be so stupid?! All the signs were there! I just thought I had mono or something, and maybe that’s why I haven’t been feeling well.” Her voice cracks.

“You know…you don’t have to…I mean, if now’s not the right time for you to have a baby, there are options.”

“I know.” She sniffles. “I just don’t think I could go through with it.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ll figure it out.”

Y/N explained to Meg that she was pregnant, forcing her to come clean about the last time her and Harry had sex. Meg was a really good friend, so she told Y/N they’d figure it out and make it work.

“Are you going to tell Harry?”

“No.” She sighs. “I can’t. He has so many plans, and-“

“So your life is allowed to change, but his isn’t?”

“He’d want to get back together, Meg…”

“I think he’d just want to help you.”

“You don’t understand, he has this thing…sometimes when we’d have sex we’d talk about having kids someday, it’s like a kink or something. If he sees me like this he’s not gonna let me go. I don’t want to be with him. I feel like I’m finally moving on, you know? My career is launching, I don’t want him in my life again.”

“Alright.” She sighs. “I just think he could help you…financially, that’s all.”

“I never wanted him for his money, and I certainly don’t intend to want him for that now.”

“And you want to have this baby? It’s okay if you don’t, Y/N…”

“Thanks.” She smiles a little. “I want to keep it. I’m already ten weeks along, I heard the heartbeat…I know it’s not even a thing a yet, but I-“

“Hey.” She squeezes her hand. “It’s your choice.”

//

Y/N gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Her parents were shocked when she had initially told them, but they supported her, they were going to be grandparents after all. They were right there in the hospital with her. Y/N named her Emily, having always loved the name. Meg was a saint, being perfectly okay with using their office as a nursery.

Y/N loved her baby girl so much. As she watched her grow she realized that she had Harry’s eyes and curly hair, but Emily also had Y/N’s nose and face shape. A perfect mixture of the two. Among all this, Y/N had become quite friendly with a guy she had only ever been friends with. He wasn’t scared away by Emily, he knew Y/N wasn’t in contact with Harry. His name was Kevin, and she was wonderful.

Things were going better than expected, and Y/N took to motherhood way better than she thought. She was greatly enjoying her maternity leave as well. She only had about two weeks left to milk it before she’d have to leave Emily with her mother while she was at work. She thought it would be nice to have some mother-daughter time, and go a nice walk in town. Y/N heads inside her favorite coffee shop. Still not able to really drink caffeine, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t get a fun smoothie or something.

“One blueberry and banana please, with avocado, a little cocoa powder, and coconut milk.” She smiles. She has Emily strapped to her chest as she snoozes. It was pretty cute.

“Y/N?”

Her eyes grow wide as she steps aside to wait for her drink. She turns around and sees Harry there, in his suit, small coffee cup in hand, no doubt housing black coffee.

“Harry, oh my goodness, hi.” She says, almost in shock. This wasn’t exactly how she thought he’d ever meet his daughter, if she ever allowed it at all.

“It’s so good to see you.” He smiles. “It’s been…”

“A little over a year.”

“Miss?” She turns and sees her smoothie is done, and thanks the barista.

“Yeah, uh…” He looks down at the baby. “Did your sister have a kid or something?”

“No.” She giggles. “I did, about three months ago.” She could tell he was trying to do the math in his head. “Maybe we should sit.”

“I just came here quickly on my lunch hour…” His heart was racing.

“I really think we should sit.” She gestures to a table in the back. He sits down with her and watches as she takes the baby out of the little restraints she was in against Y/N’s chest. “Shh, shh, sweet girl.” She coos as Emily stretches out and yawns. “Harry, this is Emily.”

“Hi, Emily.”

The baby blinks and looks over at Harry. Harry puts his hand out and she grabs at his finger. Harry chuckles as he tries to get his finger out.

“Quite the grip.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty strong.”

“So…uh…” Harry furrows his brows as he looks at the baby. She almost looked familiar.

“She’s yours…” She says quietly.

“Pardon me?”

“She’s yours, Harry.”

“How is that even possible?” He searches for his inhaler on his person as now he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He takes it out and takes a couple of puffs.

“My birth control failed…after we…said goodbye.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice cracks as tears start to well up. “I could have…I mean…I would have wanted to be around for all of it.”

“I was selfish.” She admits. “I didn’t want to see you. I thought you might try to get back together with me, and I didn’t want that. I was doing really well, still am…and it’s not like she doesn’t have a male figure in her life, I’m sort of seeing someone. You remember my friend Kevin?”

“Kevin?! I knew I never liked him.”

“Harry.”

“Can I hold her?” He could scream. He could pout. Hell, he could punch her in the face for keeping something like this from him, or he could be the bigger person and do what he could now to get his supposed daughter in his life.

“Of course.” She passes Emily over to him. He holds her like he was always meant to. “I have pictures from every moment, even when I was pregnant if you want to see…”

“Could we find a weekend to catch up? I’d love to see everything.”

“Harry.” A woman walks over to them, clearly annoyed. “I’ve been waiting outside for fifteen minutes, what the…what’s going on?”

“Heather! Uh, this is, um, this is Y/N…and uh, Y/N, this is Heather, she’s my colleague, and-“

“I remember her.” Y/N says. “Hi.”

“Haven’t see you in quite some time.” She crosses her arms. “What’s going on Harry?”

“You may want to go back to the office without me…I’ve just got some news, and I don’t think I can make it back.” He gestures to the baby.

“Are you say that’s yours?”

“Yes.” Harry and Y/N say at the same time.

“She could be lying, you know? Probably just wants your money.”

“She doesn’t. If she did, she would have told me she was pregnant. This meeting happened by chance, I’m glad it did, now go back to the office and tell them I’m not feeling well or tell them I just found out I’m a father, I don’t care, just go.”

Heather huffs, but leaves.

“So, shitting where you eat?” Y/N smirks.

“It’s not like that.”

“So you haven’t hooked up wither?”

“No, I have, she’s just not my girlfriend or anything. We’re colleagues.”

“Wonderful.”

“You don’t really have a leg to stand on, you’re dating a guy I never trusted, and you never told me you were pregnant when you should have.”

“Fair.”

Harry looks down at the baby in his arms and then back up to her beautiful mother.

“Can we go somewhere?”

“What happened to meeting up on a weekend?”

“As you just heard, I’m not going back to work this afternoon. Come on, I can call a car.”

“No, I walked here from my apartment, and I’d like to walk back. You can keep holding her if you want, or I can strap her back in.”

“I wanna keep holding her.”

The walk back was quiet. Y/N sipped on her smoothie while Harry carefully held Emily.

“So…” He finally says. “Are you and Kevin, like, serious?”

“We’re taking things slow. We’ve been on a few dates, but I’m really not in a position to have a boyfriend. All my free time goes to her. I go back to work soon, and then she’ll be with my mom.”

“Oh boy, they must love me.”

Y/N chuckles and keys into her apartment. She takes Emily form Harry and grabs a bottle out of the fridge.

“I pump.” She tells Harry as they sit on the couch.

“Wasn’t judging. You’re her mum, you know what’s best.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you burp her.”

“You were never going to tell me?”

“I don’t know.” She sighs. “There were a lot of times I wanted to call you…but…I wanted to do this without you. I wanted her to be a little older before I reached out to tell you.”

“How much older?” He scoffs. “Eighteen?”

“Harry.” She hands Emily to him, and puts a rag on his shoulder. “I know, it wasn’t a nice thing for me to do. I was sort of resentful.”

“Shouldn’t keep a baby from their father. I’m not a bad person.”

“I know.”

She takes Emily back and puts her down for her nap in the nursery. She comes back out and sits with Harry again.

“You look great, by the way.”

“Thank you.” She smiles. “I walk a lot, helped get rid of some of the extra fluff I put on.”

“Can I see the pictures?”

Y/N nods, and takes her phone out. Harry smiles at the pregnant photos.

“You were glowing.” He gasps when he sees the pictures of when Emily was first born. “Well, you’ve sold me. I’ll be setting up a nursery at my house. We’ll have to set up some type of schedule. Maybe I could have her on the weekends?”

“Whoa, slow down.”

“What? I have rights, don’t I? Is my name on her birth certificate?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then.” He shrugs. “I want to be involved in her life, Y/N. I want to be her dad, not just her father.” He frowns. Y/N knew Harry’s father wasn’t around much, and it really affected him. “Couldn’t we try to co-parent?”

“I suppose we could…you’re not too busy? I know you’ve moved up a lot at work.”

“I can make it work. I want my home to be her home.” He looks around at Y/N’s apartment. It was small, not tiny, but not big enough to have a child grow in. “Let me give you some money, you could get a bigger place, and-“

“You’re nuts!” She laughs. “She has her own room here.”

“What happens when Meg moves out, or doesn’t want a baby around, or whoever she ends up dating doesn’t want a baby around? Oh! I know, I have a guest house, you could-“

“Harry!” She puts her hands on his shoulders. It was the first time he had felt her hands on him in so long. “I’m not moving in with you. We’ve done that before, remember? Didn’t quite work out. We’re two very different people.”

“You wouldn’t be moving in with me, you’d be moving into my guest house. It’s sort of like a pool house, but larger. I have friends use it when they come visit, but it could be yours if you wanted it. It even has its own driveway and garage. It would feel like your own place.”

“One step at a time.”

“It would just make things easier.”

“Harry, what do you think other people do? Normal people don’t live within the same vicinity just to raise a kid.” She shakes her head. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.”

“What’s that?”

“If I move in there, you and I will start getting close again. Then some night you’ll suggest I just move into the main house, and before we know it, I’m sleeping in your bed, we’re married, and we have three more kids.”

It sounded like a dream to Harry, why not to her?

“Well, we did talk about having four kids.” He smirks, but his smile fades when he realizes his joke didn’t exactly land. “I don’t have any schemes. I just want you well taken care of, along with her.”

“You just found out about her. We’re plenty well taken care of. I take care of her, and soon my mom will be with her when I go back to work.”

“You’re gonna outgrow this place.” He sighs. “But I won’t force you to move, just think about it. In the meantime, let me…” He takes his checkbook out of the inside of his suit jacket. “I’m not sure how much all your hospital bills were, but I want to-“

“Put that away.”

“At least let me send you money weekly, or monthly? She must be costing you a fortune.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“It’s not about you, it’s about that little baby girl.”

“You really wanna help financially?”

“I do.”

“Start a college fund for her then. I make plenty to cover things, but I haven’t been able to start a savings account for her yet. Any time you want to send me money, put it into a college fund for her.”

“That’s a brilliant idea. I’ll do that.” He smiles. “When can I have her?”

“We can pick a day to go shopping, I can help set a room up for her, and then we can discuss a custody agreement, okay? I know how busy you get with traveling.”

“Maybe every other weekend for now? If I can get it on my calendar they won’t schedule me for anything.”

“Okay.” She smiles. “It would be kind of nice to have some weekends to myself.”

“Yeah, you can keep going out on dates with Kevin, and then eventually, she’ll call him dad. Won’t that be great?”

“You’re impossible.” She nudges his arm. “Harry…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I know how much  you love kids, and-“

“I get it. You thought you were doing what was best. And you’re right, I would have tried getting back together with you.” He shrugs and stands up. “Still might, you look really fucking good, love.” He winks at her and heads out.

He leaves her flustered as all hell. He always had the effect on her. She tells Meg all about the encounter when she gets home from work.

“You know you’re going to end up moving in with him.”

“Am not.”

“Sure you are. An entire guest house to move into for free? Fuck, I’d move in if he asked me.” She laughs.

“He’s different, but still the same. It was crazy just running into him like that.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t pass out when you told him.”

“He took it really well. He jumped at the chance to be involved. It was sweet. I feel guilty.”

“Don’t.”

“I told him I did it because I was being selfish. He made a good point that it was more about her than it was about me.”

“He’s smart, I’ll give him that.”

//

Y/N brought her mother with her when she met up with Harry at the baby store. It wasn’t as awkward as she thought. Her mom always loved Harry. He held Emily throughout their time in the store. They all drive back to his place so he can show them the room what would be hers. He already had it painted.

“Tell me again why you don’t want to live in that nice place out back?” Her mom whispered to Y/N while they let Harry change Emily.

“It would be weird. What about Kevin?”

“What about Kevin?” She scoffs. “You’ve got a perfectly great guy in front of you, and-“

“Mom, please.” She says.

“All done! Not too shabby.” Harry says, holding his daughter up with pride. “So, think this could be a place she’ll partially grow up in?”

“She’ll love it.” Y/N says, taking Emily from him. “Once you get all the furniture, we can figure out when your first weekend with her is.”

“Sounds great.” He smiles. “I can’t wait to have her to myself. Already got her picture on my desk and everything. I promise, I’m gonna be a great dad.”

//

The first weekend Y/N didn’t have Emily she felt conflicted. She missed her like crazy, but also slept better than she had in a long time, not being woken up by the crying and all. Harry did well with his baby. He enjoyed having her there very much, and nearly cried when Y/N came to pick her up.

“So…I’ll see her in two weeks.” He frowns.

“Harry, I can’t give her to you every weekend, then I wouldn’t have any of the fun time with her. She just gets me after a long day of work.”

“Maybe I could have her on Wednesday nights? A lot of people do that.”

“So, every Wednesday, and every other weekend?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I think I could make that work. I could drop her off here after work.”

“You’re serious?!”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I won’t keep her from you, Harry. Not when I see how serious you are about all this.”

“You’re amazing, thank you.” He nearly almost kisses her, but stops himself, and gives Emily the kiss instead.

“Nice save, Styles.”

“Wait…uh…I had a thought the other day. If I needed to bring her to the doctor or something…is her last name mine?”

“Of course it is.”

“So, you were just going to let her grow up with my last name and not even tell her who I was?”

“No.” She chuckles. “My plan was to tell you about her when she was around six months. I just needed more time and courage. I’ll regret it forever, I can assure you.” She sighs.

“Well, what matters now is the present and the future. We don’t need to dwell on the past.” He smiles.

“Thank you.”

Y/N was exhausted from work when she had to bring Emily over to Harry’s. She mumbled under breath that he should have to come pick her up if he wants her so badly. She gets Emily out of the car, and Harry opens the door.

“Come on in, I’ve got dinner on the table.” He smiles.

“You’ve got a bottle of formula for her on the table?” Y/N smirks as she enters the home.

“No, silly.” He chuckles and takes Emily out of the car seat and gives her a big kiss on the cheek. “That’s on the counter in the kitchen. I’ve got dinner for you and I. A little thank you for being so wonderful to me.”

“I really don’t deserve dinner, Harry. I’m not wonderful.”

“You are. You could have told me to fuck off, or you could have told me Emily wasn’t mine when we ran into each other that day. I’ve never been so happy. I can’t shut up about her at work. Please, have dinner with me after I put her down. You must be hungry.”

“You’re lucky I am. I’ll help you put her down.”

Harry nods and goes upstairs with Y/N. They get Emily fed, burped, changed, and down for bed. They both go downstairs. Y/N’s mouth waters when she sees chicken, potatoes, and asparagus on the table.

“You made all this?” She asks, sitting down.

“Course I did, I’m a great cook, remember?” He sits down adjacent to her. A little too close perhaps, but oh well. “Want some wine? Water?”

“Wine, please.”

Harry pours her a glass, and one for himself. Y/N dives into the food and moans.

“Delicious, thank you.”

“Anytime. Maybe this could be our Wednesday night tradition? It could add some normalcy for Emily, and you wouldn’t be starved dropping her off.”

“Oh, so I always need to drop her off.”

“Makes it easier, I’m on the way. Plus, it gives me time to get home, and get everything ready.”

“I suppose as she grows it would be good to have some type of family dinner.”

“Exactly!” He smiles and takes a bite of the food. “So tell me, how was your day? What did you do?”

“Harry…the last thing I want to do is talk about work.” She chuckles.

“Alright, then how are you?”

“I’m good, how are you?” She laughs.

“I’m great.” He smiles and sips on his wine. “Like I said, never been happier.”

“And how’s Heather been with all this?”

“Every day she asks me to get a paternity test. As if you could look at that child and not know she’s mine.”

“Are you two stil…?”

“Nah, probably another reason why she’s been so pissy with me, but, oh well. I got a kid to worry about now. No time for random late night hookups.” He looks at her. “How’s Kevin?”

“Oh, we stopped seeing each other.”

“Why?”

“He wasn’t thrilled that you’ve come back into the picture, and he said he wouldn’t compete with you, and I told him there was nothing to compete with, and then he told me I wasn’t even worth it because Emily would never be his.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugs. “He showed his true colors. I didn’t love him or anything, he was just someone to go out with.”

“Sad neither of us have met someone else we’ve wanted to take things to the next level with.”

“Well, I was busy being pregnant, what’s your excuse?”

“I was busy being busy. Threw myself into my work, moved up, bought this house as soon as I could. I couldn’t stand living at the old place. Too many memories. I love it here though, it’s amazing. It’s gated so I have peace of mind, and the guest house has been amazing.”

“You’re not lonely?”

“That’s what Heather was for.” He shamelessly admits. “I went on other dates, tried to meet new people, but none of them…well, none of them were you.”

“You say that like the breakup was all my idea.” She frowns and pushes her plate away.

“I had a lot of time to reflect after that day. As we were…saying goodbye…I realized we hadn’t had sex in a long time, and I wanted to punch myself for being so stupid, for neglecting you. It was like we had become friends.”

“The intimacy depleted, that’s for sure. We were un a never ending rut.” She stands up and brings her plate to the kitchen. “We grew apart, Harry.” She says to him as he follows her in, taking her plate to soak it. “I was really starting my career, you were doing you’re thing…”

“I just ignored things when they were going wrong instead of getting on it.”

“So did I. It was easier to pretend.”

“And look where that got us.”

“I was scared at first, but I love that little girl with my whole heart. I don’t regret having her. I’m not mad about it. I was…because I just couldn’t understand how my birth control failed, but I accepted it.”

“I love her too. I know I haven’t known her as long, but I love her too.”

“That makes me really happy.” Y/N starts tearing up. “I know you said we didn’t need to dwell on it, but I hold so much guilt and regret for not telling you. I should have told you right away so you could have been around for the doctor’s appoints, fuck, so you could have been there when she was born! I’m so sorry, Harry. How you don’t fucking hate me is a wonder.”

He pulls her in close to his chest, and lets her cry on him. He strokes the back of her head and her back to try to soothe her.

“I forgive you.” He whispers. “You don’t need to feel guilty.”

“Why are you being so nice about all this?”

“Because I have a beautiful baby girl…and you’re back in my life.” He blushes as he looks down at her. “Never thought we’d talk about again, let alone see each other. I know we’re not together, but we’re parents…always wanted you to be the mother of my kids, I meant it every time I said it.”

“Harry.” She presses her head back into his chest so he can hold her close again. “Thank you for saying all that.” She smiles up at him and then lets go of him. She looks at the time on the clock. “I better get going, it’s getting late.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “I’ll drop her off at your mum’s?”

“Mhm.”

“By the way…my mum and sister might plan a trip here soon.”

“Oh?”

“I told them about Emily, obviously. They were thinking of planning something around when her first birthday is. Like, we could have a big party here if you wanted.”

“That’s seven months from now, they wanna wait that long?”

“Well, they’d come stay for a month.”

“Well, I think a nice big party would be nice. You’ve obviously got the room for it.”

“Great…when’s her exact birthday?”

“July 10th.”

“Poor thing.” He cups one of her cheeks, causing her heart to skip a beat. “So pregnant during those hot months.” He pouts.

“I survived.”

“Wish I could have been there for you, could have given you lots of foot and back rubs.”

“Thought you weren’t going to make me feel guilty.” She leans into his touch for a second before backing away. “I really need to go.”

“Alright…have a good night.”

“You too, thanks again for dinner.”

Harry sighs heavily after she leaves. They were doing the right thing by putting Emily first, but he couldn’t help but feel traditional. He wanted to make things work with Y/N. He wanted to give Emily a stable house hold. Not to mention he fucking loved Y/N with his whole heart, but he’d work up to dealing with that later.

//

Things went on like that. Wednesday nights Y/N and Harry had dinner together at his place, and every other weekend they would take turns having Emily. It was a good system. Harry was able to take Emily to appointments when she needed to see the doctor. Y/N didn’t realize how much help she actually needed, and was grateful Harry was around for so many things. Sometimes when he’d drop Emily off on Sunday evenings, Y/N would make him dinner as a thank you. Sometimes when she dropped Emily off on Friday evenings she’d stay to watch a movie. Things went on for months like this. Y/N would find herself almost missing Harry, especially when she’d drive all the way back to her apartment. Meg would often stay at her boyfriend’s place, so she was alone. Maybe living in Harry’s guest house wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Harry, could we talk?” She says to him when she takes Emily from him Sunday evening. “I’ve made dinner.”

“Yeah, of course.” He smiles. Once she gets Emily settled, she sits down with Harry. “What’s up?”

“Is your offer still good?”

“Which one?” He smirks. Harry may or may not have cheekily offered sex up to Y/N a couple of the times they had too much wine.

“The offer to live in your guest house, smart ass.”

“Oh my god, are you serious?” He perks up immediately.

“Yeah…Meg’s getting serious with her boyfriend, and I feel lonely sometimes. I thought maybe if you’re a little closer by I’d feel less lonely when you take Emily.”

“Yes, a million times yes! I could get it fixed up in a couple of weeks. We could move her furniture from here right away. You could just stay in the house until everything’s to your liking, and-“

“Harry! You always jump so far ahead.” She chuckles. “I should give Meg a month’s notice.”

“Right, of course. Sorry, I’m just really excited. Like, we could have dinner every night if we wanted.”

“We could.” She agrees.

“I’m so fucking excited.”

Y/N moved into Harry’s guest house a month or so later. It was so nice being able to just hand Emily over a few steps away instead of having to drive home afterwards. Harry and Y/N not only had dinner together, but they would try to do the morning feedings together at the same time.

Y/N was sleeping peacefully one night when her phone went off. She sees it’s Harry.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry to bother you, but something’s up with Emily, and I-“

“I’ll be right there!”

Y/N races out of bed, only in a large t-shirt, not even bothering to grab a robe or put other clothes on. She rushes across the pool area and in through the back door. Emily was crying loudly while Harry was rocking her.

“She just started crying like crazy, I tried feeding her, changing her, she won’t stop, I have no idea what’s wrong.”

“Let me see her.”

Harry hands Emily over to Y/N. She caresses her and rocks her. She furrows her brows and gasps.

“She’s teething!” Y/N walks over to kitchen and looks for something to stick in her mouth. She opts to just run a pacifier under some really cold water and stick it in her mouth. She calms down after a few months. “Poor thing.” She rocks her. “Must be in pain from the teeth coming through.”

“Christ, I could have figured that out. I’m sorry to get you out of bed.”

“It’s okay, I’m glad you called, here, I’ll make us some tea.” She hands Emily over to Harry.

Harry sits down at the kitchen table and watches Y/N. He just now notices the shirt she’s wearing.

“You still have that?”

“Hm, oh…yeah, it’s my favorite bed shirt.” She blushes and reaches for two mugs, revealing the underside of her ass. “Is that weird?” She asks as he turns around. Harry’s face was beat red.

“Not at all.”

She plugs in the kettle and gets some tea bags out from where she knew he kept them.

“How’s the house been?” He asks her.

“Great, actually. I’m grateful, really. Most people wouldn’t be so lucky.” She pours the now boiled water into the mugs with the tea bags and puts them both on the table.

“Thank you. I think she’s out.”

“I can bring her back upstairs.” She carefully takes Emily from Harry. He follows her up with his tea. He can’t help but take peeks of her underside.

“Y/N.” He says, just as she’s getting Emily into the crib.

“Hold on.” She whispers and shuffles him out of the room. “Sorry, I didn’t want to risk her waking up again.”

He grabs her wrist and yanks him into his bedroom, setting his tea down on his dresser.

“What are you doing?!”

“What am I doing?! What are you doing?!”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not wearing any knickers!”

Y/N’s eyes grow wide. She was so concerned about Emily she had completely forgotten.

“I’m so sorry! I…I rushed out, and, and, I, oh my god, so you saw my ass?”

“And a bit of your other…bits.”

“Oh my god.” Her hands slide down her face. “So embarrassing, I’m sorry.”

“Embarrassing?!” He laughs. “Please, I appreciate it. Anytime you wanna walk around her half naked, feel free.” He smirks.

“Harry…I didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You’re comfortable around me to rush out the door like that?”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Haven’t seen it in a really long time.”

“No.”

“What are you-“

“You’re not getting what you want, I won’t fall for you again.” She brushes by him and leaves his room. He follows her quickly down the stairs. She takes a sip of her tea before dumping the rest down the drain.

“So…you’re suppressing feelings for me because you’re scared, is that it?” He crosses his arms.

“I’m not suppressing anything. I just don’t believe in the breaking up and getting back together thing. We know this doesn’t work, and we shouldn’t try to force it just because a baby is involved.”

“I’m very different now, and so are you.”

“Exactly.”

“I like who you’ve become…a lot. I think I’ve gotten to know you fairly well again. Couldn’t you say the same for me?”

“I guess.”

“And you like what you’ve gotten to know?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then, so what the fuck is your problem? Oh wait, you know what hasn’t changed? You’re still the most stubborn fucking person I’ve ever met. You did the same thing the last time. I asked you to move in, and you said you weren’t ready. Then a month later, when it was on your terms, you asked if you could move in. Everything has to be on your terms! Great, so I’ll just continue waiting for the night that you decide to come over and crawl into my bed. Does that work for you?”

“I’m confused! I was done with you, I thought I was better off without you, and then you came back into my life, and it was like…you were never even gone from it. I feel safe when I’m with you, but I’m fucking terrified of falling for you again. There were so many things that went wrong, and-“

“But some many things could go right!”

“We have a baby involved! What if it doesn’t work again, and she gets a little older? She’ll see and hear us fighting. I don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that either. You of all people should know that. If I wasn’t certain about us…”

“So, what…we’re supposed to just jump back in?”

“No, I’d like to take you out on a proper date. Something nice and formal, maybe a night away from the baby, or fuck it, let’s bring her along, I don’t care. I want you, I want you back. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I let you slip away. I’ll never forgive myself. That day…I shouldn’t have let you leave after. I should have made you stay in my bed and cuddle and just talk everything through one more time.”

Y/N was crying now and so was Harry. She hated him, and she loved him all at the same time. She was stubborn.

“God damn it!”

She wraps her arms around his neck and crashes her mouth to his. He doesn’t waste a second to deepen the kiss. He hoists her up on the counter to stand between her legs, licking into her mouth. They both groan into each other.

“Is, is this smart?” She pants. “We have so much to talk about, and I don’t know if-“ She gasps when he lifts her shirt overhead. His eyes gaze at her body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I want you.”

“My boobs are saggy and I have stretch marks all over the place, how could you-“

“Shut the fuck up! For once in your life, just shut up, and take a compliment. You’re gorgeous, breathtaking, and it pisses me off to no end I never got fuck you while you were pregnant, alright?” He spreads her legs apart as she tugs at his shirt. He takes it off and she runs her hands over his chest.

“Even when I was sweating and as big as a house?” She pouts, knowing it’s only going to rile him up more.

“Especially then.” He pecks at her lips again.

“I want you too.” She breathes. “But you have to pull out this time. We’re noting bringing another baby into this world until we figure things out fully.”

“Excellent compromise.”

He drops his pants and runs his fingers over her center. She gasps at the feeling, especially when he pushes his fingers inside her.

“Oh fuck.” Her head rolls back.

“You’re so wet, why?”

“You just…you make me so…fucking crazy!”

Her lips slot over his again as he pumps in and out of her.

“Is this comfortable? You want me to fuck you here, or-“

“Put it in.”

He takes his dick out and pushes inside her. She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him closer.

“We’re so fucking stupid.” She grunts as he thrusts in and out of her.

“Idiots.” He sucks on her neck. “But I can’t help it, you drive me just as crazy. Always have.”

She tugs at his hair while he rubs on her clit.

“Harry, will you eat me out? You feel amazing, but I just…your tongue…it’s so fucking-“

He pulls out of her and she leans back on her elbows while his mouth attaches to her other lips. He sucks and licks, and does everything he remembers she likes. He rubs on her clit still while he fucks her with his tongue.

“Oh, that’s it! Fuck, Harry!” She pushes his head further against herself. He was nose deep and loving it. He groans against her, and she moans out loudly. “Don’t stop, please!”

One of his hands squeezes her thigh, pressing bruises into her. She comes on his tongue and he laps it all up. He plunges his dick back into her without warning. She was sensitive now, but she knew he needed to come too.

“You take it so well.” He grunts as he grips her hips. She tightens around him, loving the way his voice sounds in her ear. “How’d it feel, baby?”

“So good, thank you.”

“Anytime you want it, you have it, always.”

“Fuck.”

She was going to come again, and he gets her there. Just as he’s about to get there he pulls out and comes on her stomach. He rests his head against her shoulder as he catches his breath. He looks at her and kisses her before grabbing a rag to clean her up with. Neither of them say anything. He simply scoops her up, and carries her upstairs to his room. He lays her down, and spoons her.

“This just feels right, doesn’t it?” He says to her.

“It does.” She sighs and adjusts against him.

“I wanna be a real family with you.”

“I think I want that too. We just need to take baby steps.”

“I’d wait forever, Y/N. Just don’t walk out on me again.”

“I won’t.” She turns over to face him. “I may have walked out, but you left emotionally before I did. We hadn’t even had sex and-“

“I know, I’m not saying it was just you. It was me too, but never again, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I just wanna makeup for all the lost time.”

“We can.”

Harry hold her close as they both slowly drift off. Even though they had jumped in physically, it would take some time to mend things altogether. Neither of them minded because this time around they each were more willing to put the work in.

[crispychannie]

Risk~

Bang Chan x Fem Reader

Genre : fluff

Word count : 1.5k

Warnings : None at all

Summary : idol falling in love with a fan.

Note : I just hope y’all like it. I’m blown away at how much love my previous post got, I’m so grateful for it. Thank you so much. I hope I keep delivering content y’all like.

My prev post : “Bestfriend”

Enjoy ~

The dating ban ended a few months ago, and it has been 2 months since Chan and you had started talking. He met you at a fan sign, and you had caught his eye ever since.

As time passed his crush grew deeper, and would find ways to be around you. There was friendly flirting between you both. You couldn’t believe that your bias, the guy who you only ever imagined talking to, would try to hit on you with corny texts and cheesy pickup lines.

You raised your eyebrow at the “delivered” status of your text. 10 minutes passed. 15. 20. Did he fall asleep somehow?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of your doorbell. Who could it be at this hour? Your heartbeat started racing. Could it be a drunk man? Cause that had happened before. You decided to ignore it, hoping whoever it is would go away. A minute later the door bell rang again. Your hands fell cold, blood rushing through your heart. You first went to the kitchen to grab a knife and hid it behind your back. Taking a look through the peep hole, you saw a pale man, wearing a black beanie and black clothes, looking around at the surroundings. Thieves don’t have this amount of patience and manners. You looked again, he was now exactly in front of the hole. As he rang the bell again you unlocked the door and swung it open and let the man inside.

“What took you so long?” He asked as he removed his beanie and ruffled his curly hair.

“I thought it was a drunk man or a thief.” You said as you stood in a more comfortable position, speaking in your defence while swinging your arm around.

His eyes went wide on looking at the knife.

“Please don’t stab me.” He said with his hands in front of his chest.

You chuckled, “Oh come on Chris.”

You put the knife back to where it belonged, with him following you around like a puppy. This was his second time at your place. The first being invited in because he needed to use the restroom after a lunch date.

“Do you know what time it is?” You asked pointing at the wall clock hanging in your living room.

“It’s cuddle time!!” He said as he grinned with his eyes shut close, flashing his dimples while making grabby hands towards you. Gosh why is he such a baby. Failing to suppress your smile, you took him by his hand and led him to your room.

“My bed isn’t big enough for the both of us.” You said while looking at your bed, which was only a bit bigger than a single sized.

“It’s alright, the lesser the space, the comfier it is.” He said while dragging you towards the bed as if he owned it.

You laid down on the bed. All of this was new to you, even though you’ve had relationships in the past, none of them led to cuddling together. So a question sprung in your mind, ‘what is the correct way to do it?’ You look at Chan who was now making himself comfortable beside you, plugging his charger in at the port beside the bed. Having done so, he looks at you with a warm smile. His ears were red, maybe this was new to him too.

“Big spoon or little spoon?” He asked.

“Whichever suits you I guess.” You said being unsure.

“I wanna be big spoon.” You nodded and faced your back towards him. He snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you closer. You stopped breathing for a second but your heart was still pumping at 280 kmph.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” you hadn’t realised his face was so close to you until you could feel his warm breath hit the back your neck as he spoke and small breaths as he breathed softly.

“Goodnight Chan.” You smiled to yourself as you intertwined your fingers with his which rested on your waist, upon which he made himself more comfortable by pulling you closer, eliminating every inch of space between you both. You could feel his curls brush against your ear, indicating how close he was to you, breathing softly, you both fell asleep.

*2 weeks later*

Chan had been coming over to sleep with you every other day. It was now at this point that you’ve developed an attachment with him, it was hard for you to fall asleep without having him by your side. And that scared you. You didn’t plan on getting this attached to him and you knew that one day or the other he would stop coming over and that thought felt like a twist in your heart.

Today was now one of the nights he would come over. You guys would have dinner together, sometimes take out, sometimes you would prepare something for him, or you both would cook together. He was bringing your favourite, cheese tteotbokki.

After dinner, you both did the usual, clean up and head to bed. At this point, Chan had a few of his clothes in your closet. It was more convenient that way. Chan was never the type of person who would go to sleep immediately. He would change into his pajamas, and sit with his headphones on for the longest time possible, until he gets tired. It was now 3:30 am and were woken up by the sound of a thud. When you opened your eyes, you found out that Chan had dropped his phone on the ground and was now patting your head to put you back to sleep.

“Chan it’s late.” You said groggily.

“Yeah, I’m almost done.” He said, with his hand now resting on your head, weaved with your hair.

“You know that won’t put me to sleep, right?” You chuckled as your gaze stopped at him. You were taking in his features for a few moments. He noticed and smiled at you, taking his headphones off, putting his laptop away.

“So what will?” He asked as he laid down beside you, hand now resting on your cheek. You smiled at him and he pulled you close, your head now close to his chest and his hand around you shoulder and head, playing with your hair. There was a different level of closeness and comfort between you both, maybe not usual between friends, or if we’re talking about reality, an idol and a fan.

“Chan... can I say something?” You spoke, breaking the silence. He hummed in response.

“I don’t know if I should say this, but... I feel myself getting used to.. all of this.” You said, mustering up some courage.

“Does that scare you?” He asked. Even though the answer was yes, you thought about it. Why should it? But also, why shouldn’t it?

“Yes.” You mumbled. A silence fell upon the both of you.

“It scares me too. I haven’t felt this way in like, forever. I mean, I don’t know if the decision I want to take is right or wrong. You know what I mean?” He said. You moved back to take a look at him.

“What decision?” You asked.

“I- I don’t think I want to be scared, ya know? Of this or of getting attached to you.” As he spoke about what he had been thinking about, it felt like he was speaking your mind. As if he could read what you had been thinking about. You could only hum out in response.

“Y/N” he said fixing his gaze with yours. All these days of being so close to each other and you never directly looked into his eyes, how brown they were and how they sparkled. They gave you butterflies, heck, you were pretty sure you could feel the whole zoo running rampage inside your stomach.

“I don’t want to hide anymore.”

“I don’t either.” You said, resting your hand on his. He looked at you for a moment before pecking your lips. His lips so warm and soft against yours, and in a short moment, the warm feeling was gone, it made your lips feel cold.

A smile blossomed on his face.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow? To talk to PD-nim about us?” He asked.

“And then we make it official?” You asking, failing to hold back your smile.

“And then, we make it official.” He said. He was about to pull you in a hug when you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“What if he doesn’t approve? You’re an idol, I’m a nobody. I make coffee on weekends. You will end up in great peril.”

“He will. I will convince him, even if he doesn’t, it’s a chance I’m willing to take. ‘Cause I know, I won’t find anyone like you.”

“Chan...I don’t wanna be a menace for you..” you trailed off.

“Sshh. Don’t worry about it. He can’t refuse me.” He shushed you as he pulled you in his embrace and placed a kiss on your temple.

Maybe things would turn out as you both wanted, right?