#me feeling motivated usually only lasts a couple minutes and then i fall back into my void of emptiness bvdfhjns

[simpxxstan]

perfect complements (ch. 6)

pairing: professor!seungcheol x professor!f.reader

genre: fluff, enemies to lovers, angst, smut

series summary: four and a half years of working together breeds familiarity, resentment, and everything in between. it's almost like living together.

chapter word count: 2.9k

warnings: a couple of curse words, mention of claustrophobia, massive econ nerdiness UGH I'M SORRY.

a/n: hope you like this update! do let me know your feedback, it motivates me so much! your reblogs, comments and likes help me a lot with determining the direction of this series as well :)

taglist for the fic: @minhui896 @yunoyeol

series masterlist

Never in your life have you really found yourself feeling claustrophobic. But this room is having a surprising effect on you. Along with the dim lights and the variety of information flashing at you through the room, it has an alarming effect on you. You’ve become desperate to leave the room, evident in the blaring of your own heartbeat in your ears. It does not help that Seungcheol is rubbing his hands down your arms trying to calm down the sudden panic flowing through your veins. 

“Hey? Look at me?”

“I am looking at you Seungcheol! I’m telling you, this room is too stuffy! This should be illegal!” 

He pulls you into his chest, taking you by surprise, and you squirm in his arms, but he doesn’t let you budge. When you finally give up, realising it’s impossible to move as you see the breadth of his biceps up close for the first time, he gently releases you and takes a step away. You feel your heart rate calm down and your breathing becoming steady, and you finally come back to your senses.

“Now hurry up aegiya, we’re already 10 minutes into game time,” his voice is softer than usual, and it’s a pleasant surprise.

You both stand side-by-side taking in your surroundings. The escape room is designed like Russian dolls, once you escape this room, the door is supposed to lead you to another one, and then that takes you to another one. The game rules are that you have to escape these three rooms within the next two hours, by any means except using brute force. 

Your eyes are caught on the big screen flashing something in front of you, and you walk towards it to read the information displayed on it. Seungcheol seems disinterested to follow you, as he moves around to look at the other details in the junk dispersed across the room. 

“Seungcheol, have you seen this?”

“Hmm, the code is 1791. Try and input it?”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, “If you know the code already why haven’t you tried it?”

“Because I was busy taking care of the little baby I’m stuck with,” he snickers, and you’re tempted to kick his butt. Instead, you input 1791 and the screen shifts to a new display. Your pride is slightly hurt because Seungcheol solved the last riddle, so you’re intent to solve this one. You tune out his shuffling movements in the background and start focusing with full attention on the games in front of you. 

It’s not long before you both fall into a pattern, solving codes and puzzles in cooperation. You don’t think too much about how you’ve begun depending on Seungcheol to get you both through this escape room. You both may be using logic equally but you can see clearly how his brain works in different tangents from yours. While you’ve always known that you are academically smart, being street-smart or tactical is not your forte, but Seungcheol is definitely making up for you lacking in those aspects. Naturally, your teamwork is surprisingly good, with you picking up on hints through close observation and general knowledge, and him twisting logic just enough to solve the trickiest of riddles. 

That’s how you find yourself in the last room of the trio, with only 20 minutes left on the clock. At this last hour, your teamwork has given way to reveal your naturally competitive selves as the end goal of this game has an added twist- the final solution can be tried only one time, in case it is successful, you successfully win 250,000 won. When you had signed up for the game, you were shocked to see so much prize money, but the woman at the registration desk had said, with a sly smile, that only 0.5% of people who try their hand at this escape room can escape through the three rooms successfully. Dr. Lee had definitely chosen the toughest escape room in all of Seoul for you two, you thought bitterly. 

Seungcheol says exasperatedly, “Y/N, I can’t take your shit right now. Do you really think that’s the best way out? It’s like- even a caveman would think of a better way for this to end.” You and he both know that you have to try and reach a cooperative outcome of the game to satisfy Dr. Lee, but the way he’s breathing down your neck to pressurise you into trusting his solution is getting on your nerves. 

“Seungcheol, there’s only one chance for us to break this code. We can’t fail!” 

“Your solution is even less likely to be the actual solution, this is the best shot we’ve got.”

Your eyes are deadlocked on each other, hands on your hips like mirror images. Seungcheol’s Balenciaga hoodie is loose on his shoulders as he bends down to peer into your eyes (how did he even afford that?), his eyes bloodshot with panic and his fluffy hair flying all over the place with how many times he’s run his hands through it. “Trust me, Seungcheol, please.”

“Alright, let’s go over this one more time, hmm?” He casts his eyes across the room, taking in the clues you’ve found till now. “The cast of the mummy, the scrolls, the canopic jars… do you see anything that we’ve missed?” You follow his actions, looking around the room carefully. You’re determined that the code is derived from the numbers in the scrolls, while he is determined that the solution is in the chemicals that you’ve found in the canopic jars. It’s a simple six digit code, but it’s frying your brains. You both intently scrounge the room one last time, brains working faster than while answering questions at your PhD thesis defence.

The minutes keep ticking away.

“Y/N! Come look!” 

You spin to find Seungcheol running his fingers over some brown canvas wrapping a wall. The canvas is designed to replicate the rough limestone walls on the interior of a pyramid, filled with hieroglyphics which you cannot read. “Hmm?”

“Can we try and… translate these?”

You widen your eyes at his suggestion, inspiration striking you as you look into the suddenly bright eyes of Seungcheol. He looks like a young boy who’s found a way to sneak out of the house to play with his friends while his mom is asleep, and you almost feel endeared by his excited expression. For the past two hours, he’s been just like this, a little antsy but quite enthusiastic.

Right now his pout shows up (in a ridiculously… cute way?) as he focuses on the phone screen open before you with the hieroglyphics translation website. “Are you sure we can use our handphones?”

“They said anything but brute force, aegiya,” he focuses on the screen, trying to decode the writings on the wall.

You bristle with anxiety. “Can you stop calling me that?”

“What?” he looks up at you, with a confused expression on his face, his pout deepening. Does he really not know what he’s doing or is he just this spineless?

“Stop acting innocent. And stop calling me aegi. I’m not a little child.” He smirks, “Acting like that, no one would think you’re thirty three.” Then he quickly continues, before you can retort in annoyance, “As usual, I am right. This is a legit code.” You peak into his phone, where he’s typing something on the notes app. “N… I… L… Nile?” You whisper, your eyes big like saucers replicating his own wild eyes. 

“But it’s a number code!”

His face falls flat, evidently disappointed. 

“What if… we convert these letters to numbers? Like A is 1, B is 2-”

“N is?”

“Wait Seungcheol, let me calculate!”

He whips out his phone again and begins typing something. Soon an image converting letters to numbers pops up and he says, “14… 9… 12… 5!”

“Woah that’s six digits!” A shiver runs down your spine in excitement, and you grab Seungcheol’s left arm, as he moves to press the code into the system. “Are you sure?” he turns and asks you, looking for confidence in your eyes. You nod once, “We don’t have much time left, let’s just go with this. Seems like a good solution!” He nods, and then slowly presses in the six keys. 

The speaker booms out in a dead automated voice, “Congratulations, you have successfully solved the puzzle of the Nile.”

_

After what was nerve wracking to say the least, you gladly accept the cheque with the prize money that the workers at the escape room office present you with, although their expressions do not seem happy at all to be parting with the money. Seungcheol looks giddy with excitement, and he takes a photo of you holding the cheque, and you do the same for him. He sends the photos to Dr. Lee, who immediately texts back with a smiley emoji quite uncharacteristic of them, saying Congratulations!, and then another text which is more like them, saying Why not take a photo together! and a wink face. So you sigh and take a selfie, Seungcheol bending down slightly to reach your height, his face really so close to yours that you can smell the perfume from his hoodie, and you take the photo before the scent becomes too heady, and you send the photograph to Dr. Lee, who smiles back in return. 

“Are you hungry?” Once out of the dark confines of the escape room building, you realise that it’s quite late in the evening, with the sun setting and the skies purple. You had hardly realised when the hours had passed. 

He looks at you with a suspicious expression, all the dopamine rush from solving the games together now dissipated into the chilly nighttime air as you walk towards the main road. 

“Not particularly. But do you want to eat something? I’ll come with then.”

You purse your lips, trying to figure out whether it is worth taking on Seungcheol’s offer. You finally decide and say, “Okay I’m going to get boba. See that shop there?” He nods and walks along without a word as you start walking towards the stall. The street stall seems to sell fried chicken too, so Seungcheol orders one of that along with your Iced Coffee boba, and then proceeds to pay for it as well, all while you’re busy searching for a seat to sit down on and it’s too late to realise that he’s not only paid for the order but also ordered the exact boba tea you wanted to drink. It’s a little confusing, but you don’t care as he appears soon with the food in his hands and you start slurping on the well made drink.

“Can I try one?” You point a finger towards the chicken, and he extends the plate towards you. You pick a piece using a toothpick, and then he gestures towards your drink, so you assume he might want to take a sip. You hand it over, expecting him to take out your straw and drink from the cup itself, but he actually sips from the same straw, which still has your lipstick stains on the edge. “Eww, that’s disgusting!” You whisper, grabbing your drink back. “What? There’s no other straw!” “You could’ve drunk from the cup or asked them for a straw!” “Y/N, seriously? I’ll get a fresh straw for you now.” As he gets up, he murmurs something about transfer of cavities and you indignantly whisper back, “I don’t have cavities! I bet you do, though!” He shoots you a dirty look and brings back another straw so that you can drink the rest of the boba tea peacefully. 

The rest of the meal is passed in silence, but you find yourself catching glances at Seungcheol more than usual, whenever he’s not looking. Perhaps it’s because he looks exceptionally sharp in the sunset glow, his brown hair pushed back, revealing his strong brows and eyes, and his dimples showing gently whenever he chews the chicken slowly. 

You’re definitely looking at him in a new light, with a tad more respect than yesterday, and you have to credit Dr. Lee for that. You’ve always respected Seungcheol on a professional ground, considering his thesis work exceptionally unique and considering him one of the best academics of your generation in this field, but today, he’s shown you that his intelligence extends beyond simple bookish knowledge. 

If you didn’t know better, you’d definitely find this insanely attractive. 

_

“So this is the last time we meet, officially. I hope it’s not the same unofficially.” Dr. Lee smiles at you, genial and kind, as you sit alone in their chamber on Friday, hours before your flight is due for Singapore. “I hope you both enjoy the trip- it’ll work infinitely better than any other group activity I send you both to.” 

You can only scoff at that. “I think we were both too determined not to lose in the escape game. Especially with that kind of prize money on the line. Our competitive natures made us cooperate.” 

Dr. Lee smiles again, but this is their I know more than you, layman smile, and it makes you nervous as always.

“You’ve heard of the Prisoners’ Dilemma game, yes?” You say, “Of course. As students of economics, it’s one of the first things we learn in our game theory courses.” Dr. Lee nods, “Yes, of course. It’s a key idea in psychology too, you know. As you’re aware I’m sure, there are two prisoners who were caught together in a crime. They each can either choose to confess to the police or remain silent.” 

You nod, interrupting in her slight pause. “If they both confess, they get a certain number of years in jail. But if one of them remains silent and the other confesses, then the one confessing can escape without charges, while the other gets an even higher number of years in jail.”

“However, and here’s the catch, if both remain silent, then they can reach a better outcome than both confessing.”

“Cooperation versus conflict. Classic case: both have an incentive to betray the other by confessing and hoping the other remains silent for the lucrative opportunity to leave without charges. But they can cooperate and both eliminate the risk of the outcome of both ending up confessing, and get an optimum outcome.” 

Dr. Lee smiles. 

“When Wonwoo asked me to counsel two economics professors, I thought it would be the toughest challenge so far in my career here. Because it’s so easy for economists to find out any strategy I apply in their experiments.”

You laugh. “And have we satisfied you?”

“You have. As rational humans, you have. You’ve not bitched about each other at individual sessions, you’ve not tried to worsen the situation due to spite from attending these counselling sessions, and you’ve genuinely worked hard at whatever silly tasks I have given you. You’ve helped me help you, indeed.”

“I can’t say if I’m surprised or not. Perhaps it is because we’re adults and we can be mature about this-”

“With the pettiness in your fights from what I’ve heard from your colleagues, I don’t know about the maturity in your relationship, honestly.” Dr. Lee laughs softly, without any malice. “I think it signals something deeper.” You suck in a breath, not sure what to say. Their words inspire many thoughts in your mind, and you don’t want to think about them.

“We weren’t thinking of game theory when doing these sessions, you know.”

“I know. It was subconscious cooperation. Hence, even more precious and hopeful. I can see that you’re on your path to looking above your differences and seeing the best in each other. Even if you can’t see it now.” There’s another knowing smile from Dr. Lee, and you’re overwhelmed by what they’ve just said. You’re scared that it may be very true, indeed.

The university clock strikes four in the distance, and the gong alerts your mind to your flight.

“I shall take your leave then, Dr. Lee. I have to get home, get changed, and then make my way to the airport. We’ve a long weekend ahead, with 32 kids and one kidult to manage,” you chuckle, and Dr. Lee laughs with you as they walk you to the door. 

“It was a pleasure spending time with you and Prof. Choi. Do let him know. And keep it touch,” they extend their hand towards you, and you grab it and shake it enthusiastically. “I shall! Thank you, Dr. Lee. And goodbye.” They smile and wave back, as you exit from their office. 

Two minutes later, you’re strutting down the stairs towards the staffroom to collect your things, and your phone rings in your pocket. 

“Hello?” You don’t look at the name in your hurry to walk down the stairs. 

“Prof. Y/L/N, do you plan to bail on me on this trip? We’re already at the airport, where,” the voice drops to a hoarse whisper, “the fuck,” and then back to normal, “are you, Y/N?”

“What? What are you doing there now, Prof. Choi? The flight is at eight! We still have four hours to go.” 

“This woman,” he mutters under his breath, before continuing. “The flight is at six o’ clock. It lands at eight. Please bring your ass here, FAST!” 

The line goes dead, and you’re left speechless. 

An international flight, in two hours, and the airport is 45 minutes away from your apartment, not accounting for rush hour traffic? You’re fucked.

[drinkyourvillainjuice]

Mal NSFW Alphabet? O.O

Looks like the doors are opened up on these, huh?

Well, here we go...

Forewarning: this is another level lewder than Wil's one.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Cuddly. Annoyingly self-satisfied.

They're definitely gonna check in on their partner while couching it in a tease.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Mal's a little indifferent to their own body. They can switch things around. Their partner? Depends which part makes them squirm the most.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It's fun when things get sticky ;)

(the cleanup is not so fun. but at least it was a good time)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has definitely boned in some places that one probably should not, including at least once somebody else's bed. Like, not on purpose per se. but you know. heat of the moment.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Most experienced in the cast. They strike out a lot, but hey, if you don't shoot your shot, then you don't know.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Bending over their partner, pressing their front into their partner's back, a hand between their partner's legs.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

0% serious. They're gonna fool around, and their partner's gotta come prepared for that.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Depends on their mood ;)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not especially lovey-dovey but they're used to hook-ups so they only warm into being intimate over time and once they know their partner wants that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

ehhh they will but it's usually more fun for them with a partner.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

"I wonder if I can make them cum in their pants..."

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bedroom is usually best. Look, the floor might be fun in theory, but your knees are gonna start feeling real rough on the hardwood after a minute or two.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Being with somebody they like. A partner who talks/emotes during the act. Not taking things too seriously. Turning the table/getting it turned on them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Very picky about what they'll do with their power before the deed and a fairly hard no about during.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Would rather give than receive, and knows what they're doing.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Very fast when excited, obnoxiously slow if they think they can wind up their partner.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

They don't mind experimenting at all, variety is the spice of life.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Their biology is a bit of a cheat code here. They've been known to go off real fast if they're particularly horny, but they're usually good to go again before too long.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They have a couple, but they like body on body better.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

OFF THE CHARTS.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

They talk a lot during sex. Like a lot a lot.

Mal: Oh? Why don't you try shutting me up?

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Dion's accidentally walked in on them more than once and they find it excruciatingly embarrassing and feel deeply apologetic for it

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Psssh. Wouldn't you like to know.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Literally has the highest libido of the entire cast.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

If permitted to cuddle, they'll start get snoozy before too too long.

[panda-luminary]

The warmth of your embrace | R. L.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Original Female Character

Word count: 820

TRIGGER WARNINGS:  Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Angst.

A/N:  I'm sorry, this is a sad one I had to get off my chest. Pretty short, though. Feedback is always appreciated.

Having the energy and motivation to do things she loved and was passionate about was something that rarely happened in Aria’s life as of lately. As she sat in front of her computer motivated to do what she loved for the first time in months her fingers typed for a bit before erasing whatever she had written. This process seemed to have gone on for at least the las 30 minutes or so. She had no idea what she was doing. She tried to land a clear scenario in her head as she began typing, only for it to change or for her to realize that it just was not what she wanted to tell. Her mind went blank as all her ideas and imaginary worlds left her like sand slipping between someone’s fingers.

She leaned back on her chair and let out an exasperated sigh. She could feel the emptiness and tiredness almost looming against her shoulder as she tried her best to distract herself from her usual dark thoughts by looking outside her window. She tapped her finger against her desk to an old tune that resurfaced her memory but couldn´t quite remember the name of. Her gaze went back to her computer screen as the cursor blinked on and off almost tauntingly, daring her to try and begin writing only for her to hate whatever she was going for. She pursed her lips and let her head fall back as she closed her eyes.

Was she as passionate about this as she always claimed she was? Why after all this time, when she finally had the energy to do what she loved, she could not come up with anything? So much time had passed of her filling emptiness in her chest and painful reminders of the past in her head, she just wanted to feel whole again, just like she used to before the war. Her eyes felt warm and her nose clogged up when frustrated tears began forming behind her eyelids. She clenched her jaw and refused to let them fall.

Warm hands landed on her shoulder and they sneaked around her as the person behind her pulled her into a comforting embrace. Her lips lifted to a wavering smile and the lump in her throat seemed to grow. Her hand lifted to caress the arm of the man she had come to love in the last seven years of her life. In turn, he nuzzled his head against her neck and sighed. Aria couldn’t hold her tears back anymore and a sob left her, followed by hot tears running down her cheeks.

Remus’ arms tightened around her and he moved his hand to hold hers. He broke the embrace for a second and dragged chair closer and once again drew her into a loving embrace, letting the young woman sob against his shoulder. No words were required, as his embrace was enough to communicate the unspoken words of comfort his lover needed at the time. Sobs were the only sound that filled the room and the warm sun of the afternoon entered the window casting an ethereal light to the couple, almost like a warm blanket that reminded the woman where she was as she became more aware of her surroundings. This is the present. She was okay. This is real.

She took a few breaths as she finally calmed down, never leaving the comforting arms of Remus. She nuzzled her face in his shoulder and breathed in, the familiar scent of firewood and the tea he had made himself that morning seemed to do the trick to finally make her regain her senses.

After a moment of silence, Aria finally spoke up. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Rem.” She said in a hoarse voice. The man waited for her to continue.

“I just- it’s too much. I don’t think I can live the rest of my life like this. I feel so empty every day and my body just never seems to have energy no matter how much I sleep or how much I try to take care of myself like my therapist told me to.” She let out a tired sigh.

“I-I just want it to end. If this is what being a human is like, then I don’t think I want to be alive anymore.”

…

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.” She admitted miserably as she opened her eyes to an empty room. The loving embrace of her lover gone, so she hugged herself to seek some sort of comfort. The rays entering through the window dimmed as the dusk came to pass. She let out a tired sigh, the memory of her late husband making her heart ache as it has been for the last seven months. A lonely tear slipped down her and hit the floor.

“I miss you, Rem.”

[purplesimme]

For the drabble prompts, nro 20? :)

20. "Soon, it will all be over."

Read it on AO3

It hasn't been Wille's week- homework, his mom, princely duties, all of them have been particularly bad the past couple of days. And right now the last thing he wants to do is deal with people, at all.

So he makes up an excuse and grabs his plate of food and heads back to his room to eat in his bed, with only silence and peace keeping him company.

He's not even halfway through his dish when he leans over to grab his phone and the plate promptly falls off his lap, shattering in a million pieces.

Wille being clumsy is a light way to put it.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," he says, mostly to himself because there's no one else around, as he looks at all the glass and the now uneatable food spread all over the floor. "I am so hungry, I swear to God."

Wille just sits there, completely done with the day. So he thinks of the only thing that always helps him feel better: he texts Simon to come over. Unsurprisingly, Simon answers quickly, saying he'll be here in half an hour.

So Wille, with newfound motivation (aka seeing Simon), begins to clean up the mess before Simon gets here.

Simon is barely a step inside the room before Wille is grabbing him by the face and smooching him. "Hi."

Simon smiles big like the moon. "Hi. Shitty day?"

Wille rolls his eyes as he moves to sit on the bed. "More like shitty week."

Simon follows him and sits next to him. "Wanna talk about it?" He moves a strand of Wille's hair behind his ear.

"Nah, more of the same, just a bit more intense than usual. I just wanted to see you," Wille tells him, then rests his head on Simon's shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm good," Simon replies, kissing his hair before lying his head on top of Wille's.

After a couple minutes of silence Simon tears himself away to get rid of his shoes, and that's when Wille remembers.

"Wait!"

Simon stops halfway through untying his sneakers. "What is it?"

Wille gets up, inspecting the floor again. "I dropped a full plate of food and I tried my best but I'm not the best at cleaning. There might be glass lying around."

Simon giggles, not surprised, and looks at the floor too, eventually concluding, "It's fine. I don't see anything."

So Simon takes off his shoes, Wille looking at him, still worried, and stands up. And promptly steps on a piece of glass. "Fuck," he says as he sits back down and check the sole of his foot. "Shit."

"I told you!" Wille almost screams at him. He kneels down on the floor next to Simon to get a look at the injury. "Fuck, are you okay? Does it hurt?"

"Doesn't hurt, I don't think?" Simon says, trying to analyze the situation. "Can definitely feel it, though."

They both look at the glass impaled on Simon's foot. It's a pretty big piece, and Wille is appalled as to why neither of them saw it before, but it's not that deep, so it should be easy to grab and pull it out.

"Okay, " Wille takes the initiative, staring at the insulting piece of glass. "I'm taking it out, are you ready?"

Simon starts laughing. "Yes? It's fine, Wille..."

Wille ignores him, rolling his sleeves up, ready to fix this situation. He feels a little bit guilty. He reaches out with two fingers towards the glass. "Soon, it will all be over," Wille tells Simon.

"Uh, I mean, yeah, it's just glass. It's not that dramatic," Simon tells him, amused at the concentrated look on Wille's face.

Wille looks up at him, laughing. "I know. I heard it on a movie and I've been waiting for the right time to say it."

Simon laughs too. "Okay, can you pull it out? It's starting to feel weird."

So Wille grabs it and quickly pulls it out without much difficulty. Wille holds it up for both of them to see. "The evil has been defeated. Do you need a band-aid?"

"Nope." Simon grins. "You're my savior," he tells Wille, such love on his eyes Wille gets butterflies.

"I mean, I don't mind," Wille tells him. "But next time, maybe let's not get actually injured? I did really worry for a second there," he confesses.

Simon grabs him by the chin and leans foward to kiss him. "I agree. But nothing happened, we're fine." Simon kisses him again, reassuring him.

"Do you want to take a nap?" Wille asks him. "I would love a nap."

"Yes," Simon agrees. "This was all very stressful."

Wille scoffs. "Now you're just making fun of me."

Simon laughs, not helping his case. "I'm not! I think napping is a great idea."

"Fine," Wille says, getting up and pushing Simon on his back on the bed. "This is gonna be the best nap ever."

Simon giggles as Wille gets in bed next to him, and they cuddle close and tight until they fall asleep.

[middleagerunblog]

XIV.

To tell you the truth, though, I don't think I deserve your kindness. I'm trying my best to be a much better person, but things aren't going so well. The next time we meet I hope I'll have my act together. Whether that will happen or not, I don't know.

- Kafka, in the note he writes to Sakura, before leaving her apartment, not knowing where he is going to stay next as "fate seems to be taking" him "in some even stranger directions" about a fifth of the way through Kafka on the Shore

So the weekend wasn't great in terms of eating, which bled into Monday, which again, wasn't great. Held on for most of Tuesday but finally succumbed to a few Christmas goodies before dinner and many more after. Woke up Wednesday with a bleh feeling in my stomach, resigned--like I so often am in these instances--to buckle down and try again.

My wife and I discuss weekend plans, which involve socializing and eating and drinking, and I already start to dread wearing pants and properly-fitting clothes over a bloated belly.

But I still have time, I can have a healthy Wednesday to Thursday to Friday morning-afternoon before my pants-required event on Friday night. And I've realized recently that it's not my weight per se making my clothes feel too tight, but rather it's how I've been eating. My clothes will feel better weighing 190 after a light/healthy eating streak than they would weighing 185 coming off a bender.

So Wednesday morning is my typical weekday morning, I have nothing other than a cup of coffee then half a bottle of water before/during/after my 3-mile run at an easy pace. I feel predictably amazing immediately upon finishing my run, motivated to continue the feeling by eating well the rest of the day, motivation that typically falls apart somewhere just after lunch to just before dinner.

But I tell myself today will be different.

After driving my youngest son to school, doing a couple hours of work at my sit/stand desk, opting to sit this particular morning when I usually stand for the first part of the day, I take the dog on a walk, listening to the final few tracks off Donda by Kanye West. Wearing this particular outfit (a hoodie with shorts and sneakers and my Steelers tossle cap), walking this particular dog, listening to this particular music, enjoying this particular weather (about 50F and sunny), I feel unusually confident.

Back at the house, doing more work, having a couple 1:1s via phone, I start to get hungry, especially after 11a. But I hold off starting because I pick my oldest son texted me for a ride home from school just after 11:30. It's finals week and his usual ride home is on a different schedule today.

When we get home at around 11:45, I heat some olive oil in a pan on the stove. I take some of the already chopped and seasoned golden potatoes in a Ziploc bag in the fridge (excess from a recipe we made last week) and start to cook them in the pan and cover them with a lid. I wait a few minutes and flip them, they shouldn't take too long to cook since they're chopped into fairly small pieces. After another few minutes I flip them again and add a decent helping of kale (also excess from another meal prep session) and put the lid back on. Everything seems to be cooking up nicely. I don't wait that much longer before adding the rest of the leftover chopped up sirloin steak (from yet another previous meal). I mix everything up with a spatula and sprinkle on lots of everything bagel seasoning. After another minute or two, it's ready. I use the spatula to transfer everything from the pan to a large bowl, top it off with some Willy's salsa (I prefer hot but mild is all we have) and shredded cheese. I take my first mouthful at 12:02. It's delicious.

More work, a few more calls, and I'm ready for some afternoon coffee. It doesn't take long to make since I'm only brewing one mug's worth. But being in the kitchen surrounded by Christmas goodies starts to make me crave sweets. A few cookies would pair amazingly with my coffee. Instead I go to the pantry and measure out a 1/4 cup of unsalted cashews and a 1/4 cup of unsalted mixed nuts and put them into a plastic cereal bowl. I pour the coffee into the large mug, take that and the bowl of nuts back to my desk for some more work.

I look at the clock at 4p, think to myself I'm still feeling satiated, finish up my last few calls, and come downstairs around 5p. My wife got home a few minutes earlier, so I make us each a cranberry juice and club soda on the rocks with lime for a healthy non-alcoholic drink to start winter break. Everyone starts to get into the treats, but I know if I can hold off another hour, I am driving my daughter to soccer practice, and I've all but made it.

Just before leaving, changes in driving arrangements are proposed and I am overly curt with everyone, giving them made up reasons why plans can't be changed. The real reason is probably because I'm hungry and cranky and just want to be successful on my goal of being healthy today and don't want any new obstacles in my way.

On the way to practice, my daughter and I listen to my "Last Christmas" playlist on Apple Music, consisting of the original plus 36 different cover versions. We both spontaneously burst into song each time midway through the second verse at "I wrapped it up and set it with a note saying, 'I love you.' I meant it," and sing the rest of that verse through the next refrain.

I drop my daughter off at the soccer field then drive to a Chipotle close by for my dinner. I order a salad and they seem to be out of the salad mix so the worker makes my base out of the lettuce used for toppings at the end of the line. They are also out of fajita veggies, so this salad is barely a salad. I get pinto beans, carnitas, hot and mild salsa, and cheese. I try to add guac, but they are out of that too, but that saves me a few bucks so I'm OK with it. I have to wait an unusually long time to pay as the worker at the register is try to sort out some mistakes with someone else's online order. Another worker finally covers the register, rings me up, and I take my lackluster salad and medium cup for ice water to one of the few clean tables in the mostly empty dining area. I eat my dinner and read chapters 10 and 11 in my book. The line about trying to be better but things not going well resonates with me.

Back to the soccer field just after 7:30 and I know that I've made it. By the time this practice ends and we make it home, it'll be 8:30. If I've held on for this long, I will hold on for the rest of the evening. We listen to more of the "Last Christmas" playlist all the way home, singing in the same spots.

I make it home, brush my teeth, put my pajamas on, and type out the first half of this post to keep myself busy and away from the kitchen and all the Christmas goodies. I wake up Thursday feeling moderately hungry and prepare to face a another day of similar but different challenges.

[lifewithoutmeds]

june 29, 2023

thursday, 7:34 p.m.

as usual, upon writing, i’m feeling minimally better today than i have probably been for at least the past 10 days.

i’ve been stuck in a cycle of getting out of bed late, watching dumb youtube videos, reading dumb facebook posts, and eyes just pretty much glued to my phone every waking hour of everyday. i’m looking at weird stuff too, outside of my normal healthy stuff. i’m watching police body cam video of people behaving badly and the police actually having a lot more patience than the average person, and i’m reading a lot of AITA and “Entitled Karen” posts on facebook which are usually just a bad, ad-ridden collection of reddit posts with poorly written commentary and unnecessary summary surrounding it. typically halfway through or so, before i get to the clickbait story i had initially seen that had drawn me in, the whole website crashes and i have to go back to facebook and scroll through until the next thing catches my eye. i watch/listen to youtube until i fall asleep, then sleep for anywhere between 8 and 13 hours, depending on what i’m required to do the next day. last friday i slept for 13 hours. last “night” i fell asleep before 6:30 p.m. 

it’s a weird sensation. there’s nothing in the day really to look forward to or that gives me much joy or hope. sleeping seems like the best course of action. i struggle to do simple things like take out the trash/recycling, wash the dishes. i’ve been only showering maybe once a week and even getting the mail seems cumbersome.

work is rough. i have no problem sitting at the dining table, but tearing my eyes away from the phone even for a few minutes is difficult. i sit, uncomfortably for hours on end, but get very little done. i respond to most emails but have difficult doing the work or research that they entail.

i’m not eating well, i’m not exercising, i don’t have a lot of plans for the future or goals that i can think of. everything seems quite wearisome. there may have been one day in the past week where i went outside for a morning walk, but otherwise it’s felt too hard to do so.

however, it seems the days in which i have the strength/motivation/wherewithal to journal, those are relatively good days and not representative of all of the days in between.

the last couple weeks in review: monday, june 19: had dinner with my mom at a very expensive but extremely mediocre sushi restaurant off of foothill in la crescenta next to a car wash. i should have known. we then went to the burbank AMC to watch Past Lives, and got some Pinkberry frozen yogurt in between. the movie wasn’t great, but also learning that my mom had gotten dangerously close to hanging herself at the sylmar house closet while living with my dad was extremely upsetting and triggering. i spent days ruminating over that as well as my dad’s behavior the past 40 years and wondering whether i should just cut ties with him completely. tuesday, june 20: amy ended up canceling for lunch, as she had meetings come up. wednesday, june 21: grabbed a drink with gyoon after work downtown at the arts district brewery before meeting esther and her sister for dinner at the nearby Taberu. dinner was ok, then we got a few drinks afterward at Propoganda. i tried to be in good spirits but was really struggling mentally to keep it together. friday, RDO: slept an unhealthy amount. 13 hours, beating my old record of 12 hours. saturday, june 24: spent the entire day cleaning and preparing for at home kbbq dinner with tracy and her wife. also taught and played a few games of monopoly deal. also briefly saw amy and her daughter on their way home from their visit to see jenny. tuesday, june 27: in office. wednesday, june 28: WFH plus psychiatrist zoom appointment in which i updated her on my medication side effects, namely: a decrease in itching/rash and sobbing, and an increase in sleepiness, irritability, random irrational pain in my foot, and rumination. she seemed pleased that the itching/rash had gone away and starting today i increased my dosage from 25 mg to 50 mg. unfortunately, the effective dose is 200 mg and i can only ramp up 50 mg at a time and side effects can onset at every dose increase so i could anticipate two more months of despair and side effects before feeling any better. looking ahead: friday: will be hosting xio and matt for kbbq dinner. will need to clean and buy groceries. will be good to see them, but i know they’ve been struggling physically (xio) and mentally (matt) so i’m a little nervous that we’re all so sad but maybe it’ll be ok. saturday: celebrating zoe’s bday at lana’s place. taco guy will start at 12:30 p.m. but i’ve been asked to come earlier, around 9am to come help. also to bring my Yeti. looking forward to seeing people and getting out of the house. sunday: church with mom. tuesday, july 4: will go hang out with Rhiannon as we both have no other friends and no other plans. friday, july 7: will hang out with stephen, who i haven’t seen in years. saturday, july 8: quasi-monthly brunch with amy (lee)

my life feels stagnant and without hope or joy, but i suppose a tiny minuscule part of me wants to live as it keeps texting people stupidly and making plans that i have trouble keeping up with at times.

  random journal prompt: what is a unique talent that you have?

so i had to scroll through like 20 prompts before i could find something that i thought i could think of a response. i think i’m good at explaining things without making people feel bad. i think i’m a fairly good teacher and i think i do it in a way that feels genuine and well-intentioned and non judgmental. i’m thinking recently of how i taught tracy how to surf fish and tracy and her wife how to play Monopoly Deal. i don’t really get frustrated with explaining and re-explaining as necessary, and it’s so important to me that they don’t struggle and have a good time, that i think i check in a lot with them, for understanding, for their feeling. i think i’m good at not pushing things onto others if i sense they’re not feeling up to it. i think i create a non-threatening environment, and i think i’ve been able to teach and share my interests with a lot of people in that way, mainly with fishing and monopoly deal. i try to make sure people have a good time. i think that’s a good thing.

[tobesoalive]

Josh Kiszka NSFW Alphabet (Smut Headcanons)

ok....so I've been wanting to do one of these for a while and I may have gotten a little carried away. This is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written, please forgive me. let me know if you guys wanna see more stuff like this, maybe with the other boys? idk anyways enjoy!!

Warnings: Everything....

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Josh likes to stay inside you for a minute after he finishes, either burying his head in the crook of your neck or pressing his forehead to yours. Once you are both ready to part, he immediately goes to get you a glass of water and a warm washcloth to clean you up, making sure you’re doing okay. Sometimes one of you will suggest to clean off in the shower or soak in the bath for a little bit, and the entire time he’ll hold you close and press kisses to your temple, cooing words of praise and telling you how much he loves you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Josh loves his mouth, how it can give you passionate kisses and whisper praises, but also bring you to an orgasm so easily. He loves your hands, the feeling of them roaming the expanse of his skin, how they look wrapped around his cock, and the tingle he gets when you tug his hair and claw his back.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

There is nothing Josh loves more than being buried deep inside you when he cums. He loves the feeling of your walls clenching around him, loves to see his seed leak out of you when he’s pulled out, using his fingers to fuck it back into you. As far as your release goes, what he loves most is feeling you fall apart on his tongue, tasting your release turns him on more than anything.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Every once and a while the thought of you dominating him crosses Josh’s mind, specifically pegging. He had kept his longing a secret for the first year of your relationship but accidentally let it slip one night, but you informed him you’d try it out if he really wanted to. It became an activity you two revisit every couple of months.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The man has some experience under his belt - I mean he is a famous musician - but nothing too crazy. He had about five or six partners before you, but most of his experience he gained with you. Both of you had vastly improved your game over the course of the relationship, and you knew each other’s bodies like they were your own.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Every position quite honestly, but he especially loves when you ride him. It allows him to gaze up at you and get the perfect view of his length going in and out of you, the sight often causing him to throw back his head and let out a throaty moan. Truly Josh loves any position, but especially the ones that allow him to see your face and the expressions you make. He still likes to have you on all fours every so often and also spoon you while lazily pumping in and out of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really depends on the day, but most of the time sex with Josh is light and playful. Giggling is a common occurrence from the both of you during the act, and you will catch Josh with a smile on his face quite often.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Josh prefers to keep it natural down there, only trimming every once in a while if things get really out of hand. He has a dark happy trail leading down from his belly button to a lighter patch of brown curls on his pubic bone that surrounds his length. In addition I think Joshua doesn’t really care what his partner decides to do for their grooming, actually I believe he finds it extremely hot if they keep it natural down there because he thinks you were made perfectly.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Most of the time he is extremely intimate, only being taken out of the moment if there’s a lot of other stuff on his mind, or if he is particularly stressed, but he is a very romantic and attentive partner for the most part.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Let’s be honest, Josh has a very high sex drive, and that can be a bit of a problem when he’s on tour or when you’re not around. He takes care of himself by thinking of you, porn isn’t really his thing, if he’s gonna have some sort of visual aid it is going to be photos/videos of you, his favorites being intimate polaroids he’s taken of you that he keeps hidden away.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Whooo boy, there are a lot of things this man is into. I’d love to go more into detail on each one of these, so maybe one day I’ll write a piece on these. To name a few, Josh is into hair pulling, light choking, period sex, squirting, mutual masturbation, praise, edging, domination, i really could go on forever.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your shared bedroom is always the top choice, but you guys like to get creative, you’ve done it in the shower, bath, car, backyard, restaurant bathroom, empty field at night, secluded hiking trails, his childhood home, and when you guys are very impatient he’ll bend you over the kitchen counter or prop you up on the arm of the couch.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It doesn’t take much to turn this man on, he’s so insanely in love with you that everything you do gets him going. Sometimes on stage he’ll spot you in the crowd, seeing you dancing and singing every word, that’s something that really gets to him, and it takes everything within him to not run off stage and fuck you right then.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Josh wouldn’t wanna do anything that puts you in pain, he hates seeing you suffer and would never want to do anything that hurt you, no matter if it would feel good for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

There is nothing more beautiful than the face Josh makes when you take him in your mouth. He closes his eyes and leans his head back, grinning with his perfect teeth and sticking just the tip of his tongue out. His moans and words of praise are angelic as well, and the way his soft eyes gaze at you as you swallow his release. As much as he loves your mouth, he prefers to have his on your core. God that man eats your pussy like it’s last meal. Lapping and sucking at your clit, alternating between dipping his fingers and tongue into your tight cunt. He could-and has- cum from just eating you out, it brings him just as much pleasure, and his mouth waters thinking about how good you taste.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s all of it. It depends on what mood you’re in but this man will make slow, passionate love to you in the morning, fuck you fast and rough in the evening and everything in between.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Josh doesn’t mind a good quickie every once in a while. If you have somewhere to be 10 minutes after he gets home from the studio, no problem. Man can make you cum in less than five minutes, and he does not hesitate to demonstrate.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yassss Joshy boy loves to take risks, as long as you’re comfortable. If you propose an idea and it intrigues him, you’ll be trying it within the next five minutes. That’s part of what makes your sex life with Josh so satisfying, you two aren’t afraid to switch things up.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Usually two is where Josh taps out, but sometimes you two decide to stay up all night smoking, talking, cuddling and fucking. Times like those he can go about 4 or 5 rounds. When you two are both home he fucks you at least twice throughout the day.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You own a few toys that you both use, together or alone. After he left for tour once Josh bought you a vibrator so you wouldn’t miss him too much. Sometimes he’d pull it out while fucking you, just to hold it on your clit. That usually ended with you making a big mess and Josh being extremely satisfied.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Josh likes to tease you a little bit, but he actually enjoys it more when you’re the one teasing him. He likes still being a little submissive.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Much like on stage, Josh is loud in the bedroom as well. Between his throaty moans and grunts, he also is constantly talking to you. He responds to your sounds by saying “Yeah, you like that?” and “tell me how good it feels” and so much other dirty talk because he’s a cocky little shit. He’s also big into praise, whether that be praising you or getting praise himself.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If there’s one thing that makes Josh feel totally elated, it’s making you squirt. The first time he did it was totally unintentional, he was just eating you out like usual, but his fingers curved a certain way and you bursted. It was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and he became obsessed with making you do it over, and over, and over again.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

This man has a beautiful dick. It’s about 7 ½ - 8 inches long with some nice girth to it. It leans a little to the left and has a nice curve to it, and it has some veins that rub your walls deliciously. He used to be self conscious of his dick but you assured him it was perfect and it never failed to please you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Have you seen how hyper this man is? You briefly mention something or even say the word “sex” in a sentence and his clothes are off.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on the day, but for the most part he likes staying up for a little while to talk with his arms around you, eventually quietly thinking about how lucky he is before drifting off.

[harrywritingsbyme]

Full

Anonymous Said: pls cnc with daddy H plsssss 

Based Off Of This Ask

A/N: Okay...so as I was writing this, I realized just how much I loved this concept. Like it’s so soft, but also rlly spicy(and I added a shit ton of spice on top of that...you’re welcome). There’s some soft cnc in here too. So I hope y’all like it...this is kinda breaking me out of the whole not being motivated to write even tho I have ideas in my head that I’m dying to expand on and do a fic about them thing I’ve been on since my last fic. And since this is my first fully written fic in a good lil while, I hope it doesn’t suck too bad and I hope you guys love ittt...enjoy🙃

3.7k wordsss

You were having a little bit of a rough night. For the most part, everything was going fine ever since you went to bed a couple hours earlier. You were in your favorite and incredibly comfy sleep shirt, you were all cuddled up and cozy in Harry’s arms, and there was a cute little plug nestled inside your second entrance. Well, you had a cute little plug nestled inside of you. 

After your initial cuddles with Harry that ultimately sent you both right to sleep, you started to move around a bit in your sleep. While Harry thought it was absolutely adorable, you always went to bed with a mission of trying not move around too much. But no matter how much you thought you could keep still, you really couldn’t. You just loved your sleep and couldn’t help but to roll around. Especially if it meant that you were getting a good nights rest. Now most nights while you were doing your nightly rolls(or competing in the sleep olympics as Harry liked to call it) you rolled around your side of the bed(and into Harry)without your plug falling out. You were able to keep it safe and sound inside of you for the whole night usually and not have to worry about losing it inn the sheets. That was most nights, but not tonight. As you were peacefully sleeping next to, or directly on Harry at some points, the bunny plug you chose for the night managed to slip out of you and into the sheets. Now you didn’t wake up immediately after it slipped out of you, but you did wake up not too long after. And when you did wake up, you felt different. Not only were you incredibly close to falling asleep again, you also felt empty. You’d grown so used to having your second hole filled every night and pretty much all the time for that matter, that you were desperate to find your plug and push it back inside. 

See, Harry was beyond obsessed with pushing these princess plugs as he liked to call them into you. Their main purpose is to train your second entrance so that you could be adjusted enough to eventually take more inside and be more comfortable in the process. The whole idea of training and stretching you to fit his cock inside was absolutely amazing to him and quite the turn on as well. And even after pushing into your “glorious” second entrance, Harry still wanted to use the plugs on you. He wanted you to always be stretched and ready for his cock. With that being said Harry was always on top of you having one inside at all times. When you went to bed at night, he’d let you choose which plug you liked the most for that night and he’d pull you over his lap so that he play with you a bit and ease the pretty accessory into you. And he’d do the exact same thing in the morning when you were just out of the shower(or bath; he liked to spoil you in the morning if he went rough on you the night before). And when he wasn’t at home to fill you himself, he’d instruct you to call him via FaceTime right after your shower. No matter the time, or what he was doing in that moment, he’d always step away to answer your call. And he always did just that. Once you were in contact with him, you have your ritual morning/first conversation of the day, and then he goes about instructing you on how to fill your second entrance.

The first step in the process would be choosing your plug…which could be pretty hard sometimes. Throughout you guys’ time working on your much tighter hole, a large collection of pretty plugs was acquired. There was a range of sizes that showed your progress(which Harry was incredibly proud of by the way), and each size had an array of different colors, materials, and shapes. You were hands down obsessed with all of them and you hated when it was time to choose a new one. There were even a couple glass plugs that were designated for when Harry really wanted to play with you, or for when he wanted you to look extra pretty. And along with those and the other plugs, there were two vibrating plugs that were slightly larger than the rest, and they had either a jewel of a fluffy bunny tail on top. Both were designated for when Harry wanted to make a mess of you or for when you were being punished. They were also kept in Harry’s box of toys, the box you weren’t allowed to go in. But back to your wide array of options and choosing just one of them. As you looked through the toys, Harry would give you some suggestions and help you choose the best one for the day.

And once you’ve chosen your princess plug for the day, you head back over to the bed. Harry then instructs you to prop your phone up against the pillows at the head of the bed so that he could get the perfect view of what you were doing. He’d then tell you to get the lube he always uses on you from the drawer of his side table, and bend over in front of him; well, him through the phone. From that point on, he guides you through the final steps of filling your second hole and he gets to watch it all. And hear your whines too. He thought you sounded so cute as you spread the lube around the area, and when you start to nudge the plug past the tight ring of muscles, or when you felt the lube sliding down to your already glistening pussy. Once your nice and filled, Harry would sing your praises. All the way through you guys’ explosive round of phone sex, and  he wouldn’t stop until the phone is hung up.

So yeah, with all that being said, you were definitely not used to being empty like you were now. Especially since Harry always made sure to keep you filled at all times. Even when he was away! After feeling around for your princess plug and turning up with nothing, you started to get quite frustrated. And on top of that you were starting so slip into your subspace. All you wanted at this point was for Harry to find your plug, fill you back up, cuddle with you, and go back to sleep together. That’s it. You hated to wake him up but you were slipping further into your subspace and you were feeling needy. So even enough you didn’t want to, you try and wake Harry up. You begin to softly whisper in his ear and nudge at his shoulder to wake him. And after about a minute or so you were able to successfully wake Harry up a little bit.

“What’s the matter darling.” He asks concernedly, his words slurred and his voice heavily overcome with sleep, so deep it sent a little shock to your core. 

“Can’t find my princess plug daddy!” You softly whine to him, your voice laced with your need for Harry to make you feel better. 

“It’s alright baby, daddy gonna find it for you.” He softly replies, waking up more and more as he talked to you.

“Please daddy, feel so empty.” You mumble in response. 

“Daddy’s gonna get you all filled up again, don’t you worry sweetheart.” He reassures, lifting his head from the pillows to lean over and press a small kiss to your nose before completely lifting himself up. He then pulls the covers off of his body and stands up from the bed. “M’gonna turn the light on now.” He warns, giving you a chance to prepare yourself before turning lamp on his bedside table on to start his search for your plug. 

He pulls the covers back from the top of the bed to expose you and the expanse of the bed before proceeding to shake the covers in hopes of shaking the plug out of them. But there was no plug to be found, leaving the floor as the last option for the location of the missing plug. He starts by checking the floor on his side of the bed where he was standing to see if he narrowly missed stepping on it when he got up. Upon confirming that it was not was not on the floor in his area, Harry begins to walk around the bed, coming to a halt when he reaches your side. 

“There you are.” He mumbles to himself, his eyes stopping on the pretty blue bunny plug that was lying on the floor next to the bed. Following the direction of his eyes, you peer over the edge, your eyes stopping in the same place as his. Harry then leans down to pick the accessory up.  “Gonna have to pick another one sweets. Gotta clean it in the morning.” He groans after leaning over,  giving you a little pout once he’s fully standing. 

“Still wanna be a bunny.” You reply simply, stating your preference as to what plug you’d like to have. 

“Okay” He chuckles at your cute and very simple answer. “And what color sweets?” He asks, beginning to back up in the direction of the closet.

“Hmm, pink please.” You decide. “Thank you daddy.” You continue, sending him a soft smile in the process. 

“Anything for my girl.” He replies, mirroring your smile and sending you a little wink before disappearing into the closet. He makes a b-line to the drawer with all of your plugs and plucks the pretty pink bunny plug that was exactly the same, all the way down to the size, as the last one. He then places the blue plug on one of the nearby shelves as a reminder to clean it and put it back in the drawer before turning out the light and heading back to you, keeping his hands with the plug behind his back. When he enters back into the room, he walks over to the bed, revealing the new plug to you once he reaches the end of the bed. Harry then, very simply and very nonchalantly, wags his finger around to signal you to turn around and get in position. And you immediately do just that. You turn yourself around at the top of the bed and you pull your sleep shirt up a bit to make sure it’s not blocking anything. When Harry sees this, he couldn’t stop his cock from twitching in his boxers. You were so eager to have your little hole filled again that you were going to do any and everything he said. 

Wasting no more time just standing there, Harry quickly walks over to his bedside table to grab the lube before crawling onto the bed behind you. Since you were on your hands and knees, Harry could see everything, causing his cock to harden even more in his pants. Whenever he fills your much tighter hole, Harry always makes sure that you’re comfortable in the process. So before doing anything, Harry reaches up and grabs a pillow from the top of the bed so you can have your hips lifted and not have to be on all fours or have your back arched. He tucks it underneath your hips, and then proceeds to instruct you to just lay down and relax against the bed.  Harry then pushes your thighs apart spreading you a bit wider before crawling on top of your plushy thighs. 

“Now pull em apart f’me baby.” He instructs, lightly tapping at your backside. And within seconds, Harry is watching you grip onto the flesh of your ass before pulling it apart to fully reveal yourself to him. “Look at that little hole. Absolutely amazing how it takes all of me inside.” He admires. When he sees your little hole contract below him, Harry couldn’t help but chuckle a little behind you. “I take it someone is excited.” He states playfully, bringing a finger down to poke at the tightened opening, causing you to clench up even more around his finger. He then grabs the bottle of lube from beside him and pops it open before squeezing a good amount of it down onto your hole. To ensure that you’re nice and ready for him so start pushing it back in, Harry brings two fingers down to spread the lube around, concentrating on your entrance. He then closes the bottle and drops it onto the bed, replacing it with the plug itself. Harry slots the head of it between his fingers and brings it down to your entrance. “Now be a good girl and relax f’me baby.” He whispers from behind, nudging the tip against your entrance. “Daddy’s got you.” He reassures, beginning to push the plug further. As he does this, he can hear faint whimpers and moans leaving your mouth, prompting him to whisper sweet reassurances to you and making his now incredibly hard cocks presence known.

Once the plug is fully inside, Harry gives your ass a little tap, signaling to you that you could let go. When you do, Harry just sits there and admires your backside. He couldn’t help but to fall in love with how cute the tail looked on you. To him, you looked like a proper little bunny. A proper, and utterly fuckable, little bunny. To him in this moment, you were his little fuck bunny. And he could really go for a good fuck. Especially considering how hard he was right now. There was no way he was going to bed with a rock hard cock. Especially when you’re so readily available to him.

 “Now what do you say after daddy has plugged you up so nicely?” Harry coos, lifting himself from you momentarily to shove his boxers off. 

“Thank you daddy.” You happily sigh, content with the feeling of your ass being filled again. You then begin to turn back onto your side but Harry is quick to push you back down onto your front, spread your legs back, and get back on top of you to keep you down. “What are you doing daddy?” You ask, completely confused as to what was going on. 

“Well daddy just wanted to give himself a treat for waking up in the middle of the night.” He says, bringing a hand down between your legs to your cunt.

“Just wanna sleep daddy.” You whine, trying to move around below him.

“Well you can baby, once m’done with you.” He simply replies, pushing his fingers between your sticky folds and against your weepy little hole. 

“No daddy!” You whine into the pillow below, trying to protest his actions and not let out a loud moan instead. 

“Stop being a little brat and just take my cock Y/n.” Harry groans, using his other hand to tug at his cock. Harry then moves himself closer to your center and lays himself on top of you, his mouth landing right at your ear, keeping one of his hands wrapped around his cock. He lifts his hips up from yours and blindly maneuvers his cock so that it’s hovering over your entrance. “And if you really meant that, you know what to do.” Harry reminds, referring to the safe word the two of you’d set when it came to your activities in the bedroom whether they were planned or not. Whatever it may have been, if either of you used it, everything stopped. The both of you, especially Harry though, took it seriously and wanted to make sure that it was there and known. 

As he reminds you of the safe word though, Harry begins to push his cock right into you. Sending you into a complete frenzy. Your protests came to a halt and your moans began. You were loudly moaning at the feeling of his cock sliding into you and completely filling you up. It felt so goo and you were so happy Harry kept going because you felt absolutely amazing. Once he’s fully inside, Harry takes a moment to get his bearings. You were a complete mess below him and he was beyond overwhelmed with how good you felt around him. Harry wanted to just have a good lazy fuck that would put you two right to bed. But with your pussy feeling like this around his cock, Harry was literally incapable of going slow. There was just something about your wetness and juices that unlocked his carnal desire to just fuck you. And on top of that, whenever you were subby, your sensitivity tended to be heightened. Which meant that you’d be a moaning mess the entire time and it would only take two seconds for you to explode around him. Also, Harry just loved pounding you and taking complete control over you when you were in your subby space. He was already in control, but this was so much more. So instead of pausing any longer, Harry dives right in and begins delivering the quickest, deepest, and hardest thrusts he possibly could.

“Daddy!” You shout, feeling him slam into the deepest part of you over and over again. You could feel the carnal desire he had in his thrusts. You could also hear it in the way he growled into your ear. While you loved being coddled while in your subspace, you also loved being controlled. Harry was just slamming his cock into you over and over agin, trying to relieve the pressure in his cock. Sure he wanted you to feel good, but he was more concerned with pleasuring himself and using your body to do just that. And in the process of doing that, he was making you feel like you were soaring.

As he continues with his beyond intense thrusts, Harry felt like he was on cloud nine. The way you were clenching up around him and just taking it all was extraordinary to him. You were being such a good girl and doing so well for him, taking his pounding and loving every second of it. He even made sure to tell you how good of a girl you were being, and even promised to fill your tummy with all of his cum if you kept being a good girl. And that you did. You continued to let him take you hard from behind and make you scream into the pillows. As the rhythm he had going with his hips continues, Harry alternates between lying right on your back and pinning your hips down and just mounting you so to speak. Sometimes he just wanted to see your little tail and watch his cock disappear into the magical cave as he liked to describe it, that was your cunt. Seeing that on top of hearing your cries out to daddy about how deep he was inside, how big he was, how rough he wad going on you, and how good it felt made it all ten times better and pushed Harry closer to his release.

“Such a good little fuck bunny f’me” Harry grunts into your ear, back to lying on top of you. “What are you doll?” He growls, staggering his thrusts to make them harder. 

“A fuck bunny!” You shout, struggling to form those three words.  

“And who do you belong to?” He growls, slamming his hips down into you again, demanding a prompt response from you.

“You daddy!” You reply through another whimper. As you replied to him, the part of your legs that weren’t pinned down flailed back and forth as you took each power and pleasure packed thrust. 

“Good girl. Now put it all together; I am…” He begins, leaving the rest for you to finish. 

“Daddy’s fuck bunny!” You reply wearily, struggling to get the words out.

“Good girl!” He praises (with a tinge of condescension in his voice), going back to his rough and very deep, continuous thrusts. “M’so glad you’re a good fuck bunny don’t mind daddy tearing you up inside.” He grunts, feeling a familiar rumbling in the pit of his stomach as he continues on. “Wanna cum sweets?” Harry pants a few moments later, continuing to push his cock in and out of you, his thrusts turning into humps more and more as his release gets near. 

“Please daddy!” You softly cry, feeling a throbbing sensation mounting in your clit.

“Want you t’hump the pillow baby. Dig that greedy little clit of yours down into the pillow for daddy.” He instructs, almost guiding your movements against the pillow. He could hear your whines turn into desperate whimpers. He could feel your walls begin to contract around his cock. And he could feel his own release beginning to take over him. After a couple digs into the pillow, you couldn’t hold it any longer. You let go right then and there, prompting Harry to follow your lead. As you were riding the seismic waves of your release, Harry was releasing everything he had to give. The both of you riding the waves of your releases. 

When Harry can feel most of his body again, he lifts himself from your back and leans over to turn the light out. He then pulls you both onto your sides with him right behind you, and pulls the comforter that was abandoned earlier up onto you both. 

“Nice and full sweetheart?” He asks, circling his hand around your lower stomach before removing it from around you and bringing it back between the two of you. “This nice and snug? Don’t want it to come out again.” He asks, pushing the plug into you a bit more.

“Perfect daddy.” You sigh, still in a daze from everything Harry did to you.

“You just love being filled up, don’t you baby.” Harry hums, chuckling at how happy you were now that you’re completely filled up. 

“Mhm!” You happily hum, beginning to doze off.

“Well m’gonna keep you nice and full, and make sure you sleep real good baby.” He says before pressing a kiss to your cheek, Keeping himself tightly wrapped around you. Keeping his cum, his cock, and your pretty little princess plug safe and sound inside you. 

Masterlist

[watchmegetobsessed]

An Ocean Away - Harry Styles

Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !

a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.7k

masterlist

You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.

Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.

Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.

Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.

Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.

Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…

Y/N: Love you!

Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.

Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.

“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.

“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.

“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.

“Just a few more minutes, alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.

It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.

Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they’ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.

Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.

Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.

You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.

“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”

He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.

“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.

You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.

During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.

One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.

Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.

Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.

And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.

Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.

“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.

“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.

“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”

You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.

He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.

“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.

“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.

“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.

“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.

“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.

“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.

You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.

“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.

“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.

Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.

You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.

“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.

“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.

“Do you… like them?”

“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”

“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.

Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.

“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.

He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.

You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.

“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”

“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.

His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”

“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.

You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.

“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.

He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.

He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.

“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.

“Feeling good, baby?”

“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.

“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”

“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.

He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.

“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”

You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.

He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.

“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”

“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”

“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.

“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.

“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”

“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”

“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”

It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.

As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.

The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.

You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.

You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.

Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.

Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.

One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.

“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.

“Why would it be?”

“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”

“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.

“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.

“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!

“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.

You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.

Harry: You look very pretty today :)

Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?

Harry: Can’t help it.

Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!

Harry: Patience!

 “Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.

“What? Uh, sorry.”

“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.

“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.

“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.

“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.

“Just go without me.”

“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”

“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”

“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”

“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.

“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.

You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.

“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.

“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.

“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.

“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”

“We already talked about this,” he sighs.

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”

“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.

“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.

It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.

“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.

“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.

“Because what?!”

“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.

Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.

“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”

He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.

“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.

“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”

“It does. But we just have to be patient.”

You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.

Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.

As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.

One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.

A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.

“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”

“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.

“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.

“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”

You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.

“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”

“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.

“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”

You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.

“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”

“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”

You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.

“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.

“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.

“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.

“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”

“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.

“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.

“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”

Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.

“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.

“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Because it was bullshit.”

“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.

“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.

“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.

“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”

“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.

“How long?” Nat questions in shock.

“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”

“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”

“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”

“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”

“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”

“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”

“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”

“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.

“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asks.

“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.

“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.

“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.

“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”

“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”

“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”

You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.

“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.

Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.

The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.

At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.

A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.

You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.

When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.

“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.

“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.

“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.

Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.

It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.

“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.

“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.

“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”

You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.

“That’s… wow. London.”

“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.

“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”

“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.

“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.

“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”

“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.

“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.

“And what about everything else?”

“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.

“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.

“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.

“Then what?”

“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”

“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”

“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”

“Why would I say no?”

“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”

“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.

“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”

You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.

“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”

“I just extended my contract, you know that.”

“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.

“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.

“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”

“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”

“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”

“Then come with me!”

“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”

“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.

“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.

“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”

He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.

“So you think we don’t have a chance?”

“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.

Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.

Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.

“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.

“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.

The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.

You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.

Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.

That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.

The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.

Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.

“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.

“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.

“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”

“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.

“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.

“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.

“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.

“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.

Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.

It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.

Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?

Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!

You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.

“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.

“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.

The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.

“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.

“How early?”

“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.

“Alright.”

“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.

It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.

You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.

You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.

It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.

Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.

It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.

You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.

Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.

You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.

Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.

“Harry!”

His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.

“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.

It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.

But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.

“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.

“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”

“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”

“What do you mean?”

“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”

Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.

“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.

“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.

“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”

“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”

“What about after work? When are you getting off?”

“I finish at 5.”

“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”

“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”

“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.

“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.

“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.

“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.

Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.

“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.

“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.

“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”

“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.

“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.

“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.

As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?

You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.

Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.

“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.

You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.

“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”

Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.

The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.

“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.

“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”

Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.

“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.

“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.

His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.

“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.

“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.

You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.

At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.

“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.

“Love what?”

“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”

“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”

You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.

“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.

“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”

“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”

“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”

Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.

He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?

It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.

When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.

“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.

“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.

“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.

“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”

“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”

“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”

“Do you want to?”

“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”

“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[1kook]

kissanime & foreplay

this is part of my netflix & chill collection !

summary; You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings; mentions of hentai yes u read right, kook leads most of it, cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc; more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 wc; 8.2k

notes; back when kissanime was offed I remember looking at this fic in the drafts like what the hell we gone do now.. n almost deleting it but I was like yknow what this isn’t a 1kook fic unless there’s smthn weird going on so here we are. also yes I know ohshc is on Netflix shut up!!!!! 

HAPPY BDAY MY LOVE AND MUSE JEON JUNGKOOK !!!! 🥺💜

—

The good thing about getting your own apartment is that you finally have a place to call your own. There’s no limit on how many potted plants you can squeeze into a one bedroom, one bathroom apartment, and if there was one, you’re twelve in and no one has said anything to you yet. You don’t have to share the shower space with anyone, label all your products with a hastily scribbled name. There’s a bathtub—something you haven’t had the pleasure of using during college—and a fairly open living space. There’s so many empty spots to fill with useless decorations and family heirlooms and that ugly plastic rooster Jungkook won you at the summer kick-off fair last month.

The bad thing about having your own place is that the entire world and their mothers seem to know now. Despite graduating from college, you still keep in touch with your trusted graduate mentor Kim Namjoon, who is still very much in school, and has made it his mission to bring you a new plant every week, hence your growing collection. Your childhood friend comes over every Saturday morning to lounge around after her Friday nights out. Jungkook, although the only one who is ever actually invited, runs through your strawberry scented body wash like a madman.

And of course, Doyeon.

Your beloved college roommate of four years, Kim Doyeon, has been the bane of your apartment experience so far. Unlike you, who had slaved away for four years, saving every penny you made during college for this moment, Doyeon was a big spender. She blew every dollar she ever came across, which is why she’s going to be stuck living at her parent’s house for at least a couple more years.

Nothing wrong with that, of course, if she wasn’t the most maniac online shopper in existence. It hadn’t been a problem in college because she was always good old pals with the students who worked the mailroom. If they saw something questionable, they’d let it slide as long as it was under Miss Kim Doyeon, Room 229.

The reason it became an issue for her now is because it’s poor Mrs. Kim who signs over the package from Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! one Tuesday afternoon as it is delivered to their suburban home.

So now she’s taken to ordering all her freaky stuff to your new apartment, where the small cabinet by the door has quickly become home to her impulsive shopping habits. Truthfully, you don’t mind accepting Doyeon’s weird packages, and have long since grown used to the uncomfortable looks the mail carrier gives you.

Jungkook’s supposed to come over today and you really hope he doesn’t ask about the state of your hall cabinet. Now that you work at a small company outside of your degree to make ends meet, time with Jungkook has been significantly decreased. You weren’t in college anymore, so you didn’t have the luxury of dropping by his house whenever you wanted to in between classes. Of course, it’s mostly your schedule that conflicts with your planned hangouts, because Jungkook is still working his dream job from home.

However, because Jungkook is quite possibly the most amazing person on this planet, he’s started coming over every Saturday night to make sure you’re still alive and not dying. And so weekly media binges are a thing, and it’s currently week four.

He gave up on showing you the Marvel movie franchise last week, after you had asked where Wonder Woman was three times in a row. Since the Barbie Movie Debacle of last month, you’ve found a nice medium between who picks when. Jungkook picks most of the time, because most of the time you don’t really care. It’s become a running joke between the two of you that movie binges are usually just terribly masked excuses to go to town on each other, so you don’t mind missing an entire 15th Century French Revolution documentary if it means Jungkook is deep in your guts by the time King Louis XIV gets beheaded or whatever they did to him. Is it too obvious you didn’t watch the documentary?

Occasionally, there are instances where one of you genuinely does want to watch something, in which case you have an intense match of rock-paper-scissors to decide who’s picking that night. Most of the time, Jungkook wins. But for every match Jungkook wins, he promises you’ll pick the next one so you’ve long since stopped trying to actually beat him.

Long story short, last weekend you sat through a two part Ancient Aliens episode on the connection between aliens and American presidents.

It was the most god-awful conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard of, but Jungkook ate up every minute of it. By the time the two hosts announced their conclusion you were just about ready to rip your own ears off and single-handedly fist fight every producer on the channel for allowing the production of such an atrocious show.

Anyway, because you had so bravely sat through the entire evening without complaints— well, no complaints towards Jungkook’s terrible taste; the show, however, was not safe from your wicked tongue —Jungkook has so graciously allowed you to pick the media for this weekend.

You’ve been telling him for the longest time that you were going to hook him on anime. It was one of the few interests you always believed Jungkook should possess, being a weeb and all, because it was only fair that he had one questionable trait to balance out the rest of his perfection. Liking anime isn’t bad— if a hottie like you enjoyed it, then it obviously had its perks. However, you know a lot of other people are turned off by anime-enthusiasts due to preconceived notions of the genre and the viewer-base.

Now, it was a widely known fact that you always had ulterior motives. So maybe turning Jungkook into a weeb was just a ploy to turn other women off from him and keep your jealousy at bay. Sue you, your boyfriend was a walking wet dream, and you’d do anything to keep him to yourself.

After long deliberation, you’ve decided on introducing Jungkook to anime with a classic: Ouran High School Host Club, a god among anime, a true Beyonce among shoujos. The only problem was that you absolutely refused to pay Crunchyroll or Funimation when you could so easily find the entire show on KissAnime.com, home to only the finest of hentai ads and Are You a Robot? questions.

He sends you a text when he’s outside your building, and five minutes later there’s a rap against your door.

“Hi,” you smile up at him, heart fluttering in that same trademark way it did whenever Jungkook was within a five foot radius. He smiles back softly, leaning down to peck your lips as you step aside for him to enter. He’s got on those cotton sweats that you love, the ones that send your brain into a censored frenzy. But he’s also got that soft curl to his hair that lets you know he came here straight out of the shower in his hurry to see you. How you managed to bag a dream boyfriend like him was beyond you.

You bask in the overwhelming feeling of unannounced love for all of ten seconds before Jungkook is lifting up a square package you hadn’t seen at his hip. “Mailman gave me this,” he says, waving around the signature bright pink packaging of Sexuality Unleashed. Jungkook, for all his politeness and respect, seemed to falter in those categories when it came to you. He turns the box over, reading the big fat name of the company on the side. “Since when did you start buying sex toys?” he asks rather loudly in the hallway.

You yank him inside, hurriedly slamming the door shut before any of your neighbors can come out into the hallway and get a peek of this avid sex toy consumer. “They’re not mine!” you hiss, standing still when he uses you to balance himself as he tugs off his shoes. You snatch the box out of his hands, turning it around to make sure it is actually addressed to your home. Sure enough, it’s for you. Couldn’t there have been some other sex toy fanatic on this floor?

With his shoes off, Jungkook wastes no time enveloping you in a hug, the Sexuality Unleashed box tumbling to the ground. “It’s okay, baby, no need to be embarrassed.”

You groan, leaning your forehead against his shoulder as he continues to pat your back like you’re actually embarrassed to be caught buying toys— you’re not. You’re embarrassed he caught you with a sex toy you simply can’t put to use. “Whatever,” you sigh, “your gross popcorn is in my bedroom and it’s probably stale.”

He releases you, not before pulling you into a slow and languid kiss that has you clutching tightly at the front of his shirt. He pulls away with a soft smooch, right eye falling into a wink. “Bring the box, gorgeous,” he teases, before sauntering off in the direction of your bedroom.

You groan loudly. “It’s not mine!” you repeat, but for some reason do as he says.

Not only do you have no idea what’s in this package, but you’re frankly not too keen on finding out. You’re more interested in Jungkook’s reaction to one of your favorite animes of all time. The package is tossed onto the end of the bed, where Jungkook has already stripped himself of his socks and cuddled beneath your covers.

Your laptop has gone dark from inactivity so you slam down on the space bar to bring it back to life. Your first mistake was pressing anything at all. It flickers back on alright, but you forget that you are working with a minefield of ads ready to explode. You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans.

“What the hell is this?” he asks in a tone that screams he has never had to fight viruses off his computer just to watch something at two in the morning.

You ignore him, cuddling into his side as you hurriedly type in the title of the anime before another annoying ad can intercept you. “KissAnime,” you answer for now, accidentally clicking down on the mousepad with the heel of your palm. Another tab opens up to some sketchy credit site. You huff.

“Baby, I swear I just saw like twelve viruses,” he says. “And what even are these?” he scoffs, jabbing a finger at one of the many ads that lines the perimeter of the website. “Animated teacher porn?”

By the grace of god, you somehow manage to get onto the episode selection screen without having another tab open on you. You smile in relief, turning the power of your excitement onto Jungkook… only to find his eyes narrowed in on the square advertisement for some hentai website. “What? You wanna watch hentai now?” you snort, placing the laptop on his legs as you cuddle into his side.

Jungkook sputters, cheeks tinting red at the mere insinuation he would ever consume such media. “No,” he glares, releasing the arm around your shoulders to huffily cross them over his chest. “I am not going to watch anatomically incorrect illustrations of a woman teacher relieving herself, ___,” he says rather matter-of-factly.

You snort, repeating, “a woman teacher,” mockingly and in a high pitched voice that, honestly, doesn't sound anything like him. You click play on the video box that appears after only about twenty more pop-up ads. “Silence, you nymphomaniac, the episode is starting.” Jungkook pulls you close with a displeased expression, finally quieting down when you put it on full screen and the ads disappear from his view.

You’re beginning to wonder if Jungkook really is the script and plot dissector he claims to be, or if he just lives to get under your skin. He doesn’t make it three minutes without finding something to critique. First it’s the quality of the frames, and then it’s the characterization of the lead character. He nitpicks everything about the best anime in existence, and by the end of the first episode you’re considering breaking up with him.

“Oh my god,” you groan, tearing yourself away from him. He’s all laid up against your mountain of pillows, tongue prodding at the insides of his mouth in that ridiculously attractive habit of his. Usually, you’d be tripping over yourself to kiss him, but you’re about two seconds from ripping his head off. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, baby,” you sigh, picking up his hand in yours. “You gotta shut up.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “I have to shut up?” he asks in a scandalized tone. “You sang through the entire intro, off tune may I add.”

At this rate you’re getting nowhere, so you just snatch the laptop back up before you actually hurt his feelings. You escape the full screen, met with those hentai ads that are slowly becoming the bane of Jungkook’s existence.

“Who actually watches those anyway?” he mumbles, covering the sidebar full of naked cartoon ladies with his palm for you, a real gentleman if you ever saw one. “Really?” he says, knocking his pointer finger against a particularly raunchy ad with the caption Be a Good Boy and Let her Play beneath it.

You snort. “You are such a baby,” you tease, pinching his cheek much to his annoyance. “What? Can’t handle seeing some anime titties?”

Jungkook shoves your hand away, leaning back to become one with the pillows as you continue onto the next episode. “They’re just weird,” he admits. “And make unrealistic faces.”

“Unrealistic,” you repeat, finally giving one of the ads the time of day. There’s an adorably drawn character making the most perverted expression, knees hiked up to her chest. Her face is twisted up, drooling like a dog and with her eyes crossed in ecstasy. You shrug. “Just because you can’t get those faces out of me doesn’t mean they’re unreal.”

The second the words leave your mouth Jungkook is letting out a scandalized scoff, sitting up to level you with another glare. “First of all, I can get you like that,” he defends, tapping his finger against the ad on screen. “In fact, I can get you like that without even trying, so let’s not say anything too drastic now, okay?”

His sudden bout of defensiveness makes something playful in you switch on, laying back down beside him with a smirk. “Oh, you can make me all stupid like this?”

Jungkook scoffs. “Yes.”

“Uh huh,” you drawl, tracing a finger up his chest teasingly; Jungkook knocks your knuckles away, obviously still butt hurt about your comment. That’s fine, because a slightly riled up Jungkook was always the best Jungkook. You sit up and lean in close, letting your hand slip beneath his hoodie, palm running over his bare shoulder and around the top of his back. You give his nape a light squeeze, lips pressed against the shell of his ear. “Why don’t you prove it to me, Jungkookie?” you purr, before pulling away.

His jaw twitches at the nickname, one shapely brow unconsciously arching as he regards you with a calculative expression.

The thing about Jungkook was that, after almost a year of dating, you know just how to push his buttons. He has a rather calm and collected exterior to him, the same one he’s had since the day you met him, but beneath it all was a childish competitiveness that raged with the heat of ten suns. He disliked being taunted like you were doing now, especially when his credibility was at stake.

Honestly speaking, you don’t doubt Jungkook can make you look as goofy and messy as those hentai ads. In fact you’re rather confident he can. Either way, him being right or you being right, you would still get some fun out of it.

“Hm?” you add, tracing your hand up to dance over the skin of his cheek, pads of your fingers running over that stiff jaw. “Are you scared I’m right and you’re wrong?”

A hand snaps up to catch your wrist, fingers tight around your skin until you’re shivering against him. “Oh baby, I can make you cum until you cry,” he murmurs, his usual sweet and lilting tone dropping to a low vibration that makes your pussy throb beneath your panties. Your heart leaps in your chest, lips falling open when he ducks down to brush them against yours. It’s too light, just a simple touch that makes you follow his mouth when he pulls back.

With one firm shove, the laptop is tumbling off the bed, thudding loudly against your bedside rug. Jungkook leans over you, his usual trademark doe eyes zeroed in on you with the focus of a laser. “Have a little faith in me,” he teases, and when he presses close you can feel his fattening cock flush against your thigh. Your body is begging to be touched, every brush of his fingers against your skin searing trails in their wake.

Suddenly, he’s drawing back. “Kook?” you frown, barely biting down on a childish whimper when he snuggles back into your mountain of pillows, one arm stretched behind his head.

He flashes you a smile. “Go on,” he says, arms behind his head. “Show me how to get you like that.”

“By myself?” you ask, shifting onto your knees anyway. Jungkook nods, a soft jut of his chin as he gives you another one of those easy going smiles of his. His goal seems a little unclear, but you had a ridiculous amount of trust in your boyfriend that whatever he had planned was certain to be good. With one final skeptical glance his way, you sink down onto your bum, knees spreading and giving him a clear view of your little pink boy shorts, elastic band hugging your waist.

The material of your t-shirt is guided away, held to your chest by the hand currently not traversing the length of your stomach, gliding across soft skin, over your belly button and past that band until it slips beneath. You chance another look Jungkook’s way, only to find his eyes wonderfully downcast in the direction of your core. That smile is gone now, replaced with a somber look as he watches your hand move mysteriously beneath the fabric of your undergarments.

The first brush of your forefinger against your swollen button makes you twitch, back arching at the sensation that is magnified by his watchful gaze. “Mmh,” you bite down, hand twisting in the material of your shirt. Jungkook’s eyes glare a molten path across your skin, from the comfy bra that peeks out from beneath your rumpled shirt to the wrist slowly working beneath your panties.

A hand falls over your thigh, tattooed fingers giving the skin a light squeeze as you get to work swirling your bud around. The sight of his inked skin on yours makes something warm blossom in your lower abdomen, your eyes following the inky swirls up, up, up. They lead you to the face of your very handsome boyfriend, long lashes fanning across his cheekbones as he watches you play with yourself. “Wanna take these off for me?” he says, the tip of his pointer finger wiggling beneath the fabric of your shorts.

You nod hurriedly, wiggling around on the bed until you’re on your back, legs bent in front of you. The shorts come down your legs; the simplest press of your thighs makes something quiver in your abdomen. You toss them off to the side, and just as you go to sit back up, Jungkook places a hand on your knee. “Stay like this for me,” he says, sitting up from his mountain of pillows to glance down at you. You melt into the plush mattress beneath you, staring down at him between your legs. He’s got that adoring look in his eyes, the one that makes you feel so warm and in love, it’s only natural your hand slips down to play with your bare clit again. “That’s my girl,” he smiles, rubbing a hand down the outside of your thigh, urging your legs to fall open.

There’s this overflowing vat of arousal that builds up inside of you everytime Jungkook is around, like the moment your eyes land on him you’re reminded of every position he’s ever had you in. You remember the soft brush of his hands on your body, the way his lips feel on yours, the soft tickle of his hair when he gets too close. It makes your heart lurch in your chest, like if you don’t grab onto him tightly this feeling will slip through your fingers and out of your life. So you were crazily in love with your boyfriend— now what?

A puckered set of lips meets the inside of your thigh, the action ripping you from your overly gooey, overly soft inner rambling. Your hand trails down your quivering pussy lips, collecting your dripping wetness as you go. At the same time, Jungkook kisses down the inside of your thigh, soft smacks of his lips against your skin filling the air with an emotion that makes you bite down a whimper. Your hole puckers at the brush of your fingers, anticipating an entrance that you yearn to give into soon.

His mouth is on you before your finger can go deeper than a centimeter in. But Jungkook doesn’t brush your hand off, doesn’t shove you away to prove his mouth was undoubtedly better. He places a kiss over your knuckles, before swallowing up your significantly smaller hand with his, that of which he clasps together over your navel.

You groan, head rolling from side to side. “Don’t be so soft with me,” you whine, leg twitching when he presses a kiss against your engorged bundle of nerves. “Push me around like that one time, you know I like it.”

Jungkook grins, mouthing over your clit with practiced ease that has you releasing all kinds of whimpers and sighs. He’s got his other hand wrapped around your thigh, strong arm pulling you closer to that devious mouth and tongue that lavished attention on your clit. “Need me to be mean to you, baby?” he purrs, curling his tongue in such a way that it makes your entire body tense up, muscles pulled tight. “Want me to push you around like the stupid little girl you are?” You moan, head bobbing up and down at the ideas he stuffs in your mind. As he moves down the length of your cunt, that round nose you love brushes against your bud, and the cheeky shit takes an obnoxiously loud sniff of it, a soft groan breathed against your lower lips. “But isn’t this better?” he hums, languidly molding his lips against your lower ones, much in the same way he does with the ones on your face; he moves slowly, slips his tongue in every few seconds before eventually diving in head on. “Slow... and so easy.”

“Kook,” you mewl, getting this overwhelming urge to cover your face with your hands. But you can’t, because he’s knotted one hand with yours and his fingers only tighten when you try to yank them apart. Instead you’re left pressing one knuckle against your mouth, brows pinching as he begins slowly fucking his tongue into your cunt. “F-Faster,” you beg. He, of course, ignores your plea.

The wet mass moves past the clenched muscles around your hole, nose brushing against your lips with every intrusion. Every few cycles he stops to press a kiss against your pussy, so hard and wet that it hurts when he pulls off. You’re left writhing and moaning, your heel knocking against his shoulder when he pushes your leg up closer to your chest. “It’s enough,” you cry, your entire body shivering.

Jungkook pulls off with a loud pop, lips glistening with your arousal. He’s got this glint on his eyes, like he’s thoroughly entertained by your reactions. He shuffles around to get comfortable, finally releasing that grip on your hand. Immediately, your newly freed hand jumps forward to tangle in the hair above his ear, tracing down the delicate curve of his cheekbone. Jungkook turns his head, pressing a soft peck against your open palm that makes your heartbeat thunder in your ears.

As he moves around, his leg bumps against something that has both of you pausing. It sounds out of place next to your shallow breaths, and both of you glance down only to catch sight of that stupid package from Sexuality Unleashed teetering on the edge of the bed.

The moment you see it, it’s like you’re transported into an omnipresent view of the scene, the next few hours flashing before your eyes as Jungkook snorts. You know he’s going to reach for it in two seconds, and you know he’s going to tear the hot pink packaging apart with his bare hands. He does so with a scary amount of power, the industrial tape not standing a chance against him. A box roughly the same size as the package falls out, and before you can kick it away and save yourself from suffering beneath Jungkook’s teasing antics, he’s snatching up the box.

“The Bullet Bestie,” he reads aloud, dark eyes flying across the text with lightning speed before that box is also being ripped open. (Briefly, there’s a voice in your head that thinks of Doyeon, but you’re not sure why.) Out tumbles a little pink bullet with a strap on one end that bounces against your thigh and an even smaller remote.

“Baby,” you rush out, the sight of the tiny toy making your heart thunder in your chest. “We can look at it another time,” you try, hands coming up to brush against his face again. “Why don’t you finish off here?” you ask, a sickeningly sweet politeness dripping off your tongue as the knot in your tummy fades into the background of his attention.

Jungkook ignores you, picking up the remote with a wondrous look in his eyes. Before you can try to persuade him back between your legs, a quiet click cuts you off and the little bullet whirls to life. You yelp at the sudden vibrations against the inside of your thigh, so close to your throbbing core. The jump of your thighs has it falling onto the mattress below you, wide eyes snapping back to the smirk that grows on his face.

“No,” you say slowly, sitting back up, “no, no,” you try, your usual assertiveness melting into a whiny cry as you try to wiggle away from him and the nefarious ideas infesting his lust-addled mind. You’re barely turning, ready to make a run for it and hand him his victory by forfeit, when Jungkook is catching you by the waist. Your hips get pulled up, arms clawing uselessly at the sheets beneath you as he drags you close to him. He’s fast, already having moved onto his knees behind you, and when he yanks you up, you can feel every hot plane of his body aligned with your backside. “Kook, please just make me cum,” you gasp.

There’s a smile pressed against your shoulder, lips still wet from before, kissing along the side of your neck. “Look at my girl,” he murmurs, and you nearly jump out of your skin when something smooth is traced along your thigh. One hand slips beneath the material of your shirt, soothingly rubbing circled against your skin. This hand also holds the tiny remote between two fingers, and every nerve in your body is on edge waiting for it to be used. “Where’s that smartmouth now?”

“Jungkook,” you try to warn. But there’s no bite to your words, only an anticipation that grows the closer he moves that damned toy between your thighs. “Baby, we-we can play another time, okay? Just please—“

A soft click, and suddenly your spine is giving out on you, upper body flopping forward as Jungkook runs the vibrations over your clit. Of course Jungkook follows, never letting you slip far from his reach. A loud moan spills from your lips, lower lip wobbling at the unreal amounts of pleasure he bestows upon you with such a small toy. “W-Wait,” you sob, the coil from before suddenly magnified tenfold. It makes your orgasm loom over you bigger than ever, a wave that threatens to spill over and drown you in one go. “No-please.”

His mouth presses against your ear, hot breaths fanning against the skin there. “Hey pretty girl, does it feel good?” he husks out, kissing just below your ear. “Aw fuck,” he groans, something stiff pressing against the cleft between your cheeks, “can’t even see if you’re making that stupid face right now.”

You are, but you don’t even have the words to tell him that. The moment the vibrator had made contact with your already ravished clit, your eyes had rolled into the back of your head. You don’t doubt you look like those silly ads you’d laughed at earlier, mouth opening and closing every few seconds as he circles the toy around your bud. You settle on a high-pitched whimper that has Jungkook laughing meanly against your ear.

It ends too soon, the stimulation from Jungkook eating you out for a few minutes combining with the bullet to form a powerful duo that swallows you whole. An embarrassingly loud moan rips itself from your throat, hands twisting in the sheets beneath you as it washes over you. It’s so powerful, it blinds you, pussy spasming. Jungkook’s name is repeated about a thousand times in between, your body eventually melting back into the mattress as the final shocks run through you.

The vibrator clicks off just as quietly as it turned on, your harsh breaths filling the room in its place. “Good girl,” Jungkook praises, raining down a parade of kisses against your shoulder. You mewl in appreciation, still awkwardly shoving your face into the mattress, and your hips in the air. From the corner of your eyes, you watch him set the glistening toy off to the side, and you’re just about ready to thank the heavens for such an experience with your boyfriend, when said boyfriend hits you with a curveball.

The gentle pecks against yours shoulder dissolve into harsh kisses, rough hands trailing up your waist. The t-shirt gathers around his knuckles, pushed and pushed until he’s got those same hands cupping your breasts. “Did you like that?” he asks, biting down against your shoulder; the sensation is dulled by your shirt being in the way but it still makes you whine. You moan softly, nodding against the mattress as he gets to kneading your breasts over your bra. “Mm,” Jungkook sighs, “my pretty girl was so good for me, wasn’t she?”

Those deft fingers run back down, crawl beneath the elastic of your lounge bra and push it away until your breasts are bouncing out of their cage. “Kook,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he traces circles around your nipples. “W-Wait,” you whimper, suddenly reminded of the swollen cock pressed against your backside when he leans closer.

“Shhh,” he soothes, tweaking your nipples. “Relax for me, sweetheart,” he coos, flicking your hardened nipples with his fingers. You can’t relax, not with your body still so sensitive and him playing with you. Still, the low intonation makes something soft and warm settle in your chest, the kisses against your jaw making your eyes fall shut. “That’s it,” he says, giving one nipple a playful twist that draws a high-pitched moan from you.

Just as you’re beginning to fall into the rhythm of Jungkook’s caresses and voice, he releases one breast to traverse his hand down and over your tummy, to your sensitive pussy. You gasp, biting down on your lip as he teasingly flicks your clit with his fingers. “Bet you could come again now,” he murmurs, taking the tip of your earlobe into his mouth and nibbling softly. You groan, shoving your face into the sheets as if that will save you from your doom. “Bet your pretty little pussy can cream itself just like this, isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

You whimper, hips bucking back against him when he begins nudging your bud, lewd sounds reaching your ears. His other hand remains on your breast, no longer toying with your nipple but simply holding it almost comfortingly. There’s a smirk pressed against your skin, that pearly white smile you usually adore so much teasing you as he circles your nub.

“Come on,” he encourages quietly, kissing up the column of your neck again. You moan, thighs quivering as he strokes a second orgasm out of you with no struggle. Your eyes and throat burn at the heat that washes over you, and you release a hoarse scream into the mattress— Jungkook chuckles at the sound, egging you on with that low voice until your muscles go limp a second time.

When he rolls you onto your stomach again, you try desperately to cover the tears that blur your vision, turning away from him like a child when he tries to look. “Crybaby, crybaby,” he sings teasingly, prying your hands away to capture your mouth with his for the first time that night. “Lemme see those tears, baby,” he purrs.

He tastes like you, tongue dripping with that sweet tang of your pussy, and he smells like you too. It strokes the flames of you ego, arms eventually wrapping around his shoulders as he settles above you. He pulls off with a curl of his tongue against your swollen lips, brown eyes lazily staring down at you. It’s embarrassing how well kept he still was compared to your half-nude state of dress. His skin is all glowy and pretty, not a single tear track in sight, and his grin is still too relaxed for your liking.

Jungkook’s body feels so warm and comforting against yours, muscles keeping the heat trapped between your bodies. You go to brush a hand through his hair, needing to feel the familiarity of those silky locks, before he’s suddenly leaning away. He shuffles onto his knees again, glancing down at your thoroughly abused cunt with a quirk in his brows.

“God,” you groan, knocking your foot against his side. “Just fuck me already,” you huff despite your earlier fatigue. You could only go so long without feeling Jungkook’s fat demon cock inside of you.

He snorts at your snappy tone, cutely tilting his head to the side to move his hair out of his face. His jaw looks sharp from this angle, facial features covered in shadows the lamplight behind him can’t touch. “Can’t,” he announces, and you could pull your hair out from all this unnecessary build up.

Truth to be told, you and Jungkook were both equally as unrestrained when it came to each other. Most of the time, the lead up to actual, penetrative, key-in-lock sex included a couple minutes of heavy petting from his end, and maybe a half assed handjob from you. Sometimes if you felt extra attentive, he’d eat you out and you'd him off. But for the most part, the two of you jumped straight into it after an orgasm, like horny teenagers despite the two of you being twenty-three now.

The most adventurous you’d ever gotten up until the point was maybe two orgasms bestowed upon you by a crazed Jungkook. And, well. You had hit two orgasms now. You were ready for his monster cock.

“Kook,” you whine childishly.

Jungkook shakes you off, placing a palm on both your knees. Slowly, he spreads your thighs apart again, eyes zeroed in on the glossy folds that come into view, the sparkling pearly cum that leaks out of your hole. “I can’t, baby,” he says, almost pained. “I gotta clean you up first,” he insists, and before you can tell him how counterproductive it is to lick you clean of your arousal before fucking you, he’s diving face first into your cunt.

But the biggest surprise doesn’t come from Jungkook going in for thirds, but from the hands he clasps around your thighs, the sheer strength he uses to roll you over (ignoring the shriek you let out) to sit you on his face. “No, no,” you yelp immediately, “I-I‘ll break you,” you cry, trying to escape from his hold.

From beneath your thighs, dark eyes peering up at you daringly, you can see the clear warning on Jungkook’s face. It’s a look that loudly says don’t you dare fucking move, shapely brows sending a jolt of genuine fear down your spine for a moment. “Jungkook,” you fret, trying to ignore the arousal that only continues to blossom as his tongue laps against your folds for the second time that night. “I’m, I’m,” you stammer, hands burying themselves in his hair as he ignores your cries. “I’ll break you,” you try again, spine arching when he slurps your clit into his mouth. “I-I’ll—“

He pulls off with a pop. “Fuck my face, baby,” he says, as if he hadn’t heard a single of your concerns at all. His nose nudges against your clit, a whimper catching in your throat. Briefly, his hand disappears from around your thigh, and when it returns, that tiny bullet vibrator from earlier is pressed against your thigh. “You got that?”

You nod, internally torn apart by your fear of crushing him and your need to drag your cunt all over your boyfriend’s handsome face. You glance down at him, watch him slip that vibrator into his mouth for just a second and lewdly coat it in his saliva, before he’s reaching around to shove it past your pussy lips. They’re still swollen and puffy, but have long since relaxed enough for him to slip it in. “B-But what if—“

“You won’t,” he cuts off, readjusting himself closer to your cunt again, “come on, pretty girl.”

The reason you think you and Jungkook click so well was because he was able to bring that vulnerable side out of you every now and then. He knew you liked to parade around with that huge superiority complex, and he loved it. But he also knew there were things you liked and disliked, and sometimes it took a little pushing for you to reveal them.

For a second, that horny cloud over his irises lifts, and he gives you one of those cute, sloppy winks as he taps your thigh gently. “Fuck my face, sweetheart,” he whispers, “drag that pretty cunt all over me until I can’t breathe.” A gasp catches in your throat, hands unconsciously curling against his scalp. He notices, and flashes you a lazy smirk. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Something akin to adoration blooms in your chest, and before you can blurt out something embarrassing—like I love you—there’s a soft click that has The Bullet Bestie revving up inside of you. You gasp, the sudden vibrations deep inside your pussy making your hips snap forward, clit rubbing against Jungkook’s nose.

“O-Oh,” you cry, and that’s all it takes for you to lose it. Your hips start off slow, at first just savoring the wet drag of his tongue against your lips, his nose against your clit. He sticks his tongue out for you, and part of you wants to tell him he’s a good boy, that corny hentai ad flashing in your mind, but you doubt you’ll survive the aftermath of that. Once you find that perfect pace, your hands are practically yanking at his hair, pushing him further into the mattress as you ride his face like he’s nothing but a toy. “Kook, Jungkook,” you pant, grinding your lower lips against his all too eager mouth.

It feels oddly weird being over him like this, using him like this. You like to think you and Jungkook have equal power in the bedroom, but you will admit that more often than not, he assumes control by default. You’re not particularly bothered by that, because you doubt you’d ever come up with the crazy ideas Jungkook did when he was horny (okay, a lie, because you definitely have thought of crazy sex schemes before).

But, this moment…

The power was quickly going to your head. “Fuck,” you sob, roughly dragging the length of your pussy over and over his face. The hands around your thighs are pressing against your skin with a strength that would hurt were you not blinded by arousal. His eyes are shut, lids fluttering open every now and then as he watches you buck wildly over his face like he was a pillow in high school and your parents were gone for the weekend.

It doesn’t help that the rhythmic pulses of the vibrator inside of you are doing their job well, the tongue that slips into your pussy joining together to form a powerful combination. It’s ultimately what has you halting your manic thrusts, instead falling into a slow grind over him. Your hips circle, eyes squeezed shut as you lose yourself in the lapping of his tongue against your dripping hole. “Mmmf,” you mewl, biting down on your lower lip as the wet muscle prods against a delicate spot within you. You hear feels light, view of the gorgeous man beneath you obstructed by the eyelids that can't seem to stay open. “N-No,” you cry, pulling his hair more roughly than you intended to in order to redirect him. “There, there,” you whimper, holding him tight against your pussy.

Beneath you, Jungkook exhales harshly against your lips, hands moving frantically over your thighs as he works his tongue inside of you alongside the bullet vibrator. If you weren’t so caught up in your own pleasure, all kinds of sounds spilling from your lips, you would have heard the quiet moans that fall from his. Alas.

It takes a few more pulses from the toy and a few more licks from Jungkook until you’re coming for the third time that night, features twisting up as your pussy clenches around his tongue before spilling down his mouth. Your back arches, a defeated moan escaping you as you release the same mess he’d claimed to clean up onto his lovely face. You can barely breathe afterwards, mouth dry and head dizzy when Jungkook finally pops back out from between your thighs. You barely have enough time to lift yourself up, pussy lightly brushing across his Adam’s apple as you stop yourself from crushing his windpipe. It makes you twitch.

“Good girl,” Jungkook praises with a cheeky smile that distracts you from the bullet toy he retrieves from your quivering cunt. His face is absolutely glistening from your arousal, skin warm and flush. He’s looking up at you like you’re some mythical goddess and he’s but a humble villager coming to pay his respects at the temple that is your body. Fuck, were you okay? You don’t think you’ve ever felt this good in your entire life, and Jungkook’s mushy gaze was doing things to your heart.

He presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh before helping you off of him, laughing meanly when you flop limply down beside him. He’s still fully clothed, a fact that irks you when he leans over to kiss you with that glossy face of his. “D’you like it?” he mumbles, kissing softly down your face. You nod, legs twitching from the aftermath of that wild ride. “I saw it, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saw what?” you mumble, mindlessly rolling your head to the side and exposing more skin when he begins kissing along your neck.

Jungkook says nothing, just rolls over you. Part of you thinks he’s crazy, but you’re suddenly hit with the realization that while Jungkook’s drawn three orgasms out of you in the course of an hour, you hadn’t done anything for him. Before you can dive head first into swallowing his cock, he’s kissing you softly. “That stupid face,” he smirks, slotting his mouth against yours. “That weird, now realistic face,” he tacks on.

You huff out a laugh, throwing your leg around his waist comfortably. Jungkook smiles, kisses you one last time before settling in your arms, face cutely pressed in between your boobs. “Hey,” you call, “don't you wanna cum too?”

He shakes his head, a soft sigh filling the air. “Nah,” he says, cuddles closer into you. “Rest now, baby.”

You roll your eyes. “I can feel your dick against my thigh,” you point out, wiggling your pelvis upward to brush against his throbbing erection. Jungkook holds you down in an effort to stop you. “Fuck me.”

He groans against your collarbone. “No, you’re tired,” he tries to convince you, but his skin is warm and flushed in the way it always gets when he’s riled up. “Sleep.”

With the leg around his hip, you pull him closer. “Fuck me, Jungkookie,” you purr, using the hands in his hair to turn his face up towards yours. His dark eyes are drawn down cutely, pouty lips too. “Use my body,” you suggest, “I’m yours anyway.”

His eyes flutter shut, a quiet whimper falling from his lips. “Don’t say that,” he sighs, “makes me wanna do very mean things to you.”

You smile. “You can do whatever you want to me, don’t you know that?” Another groan, his head falling forward until he’s hiding in your neck. Still, there’s movement from below, he sweats slipping down at his hips until that throbbing cock is pressed into the tiny crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. There’s a moment of hesitation, and you wonder if this is what he felt like earlier when he’d managed to get you to sit on his face. “Inside, Jungkookie,” you murmur, reaching down to line him up with your sensitive entrance. He whines softly, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you close. “Good boy.”

Despite your earlier belief that you’d never survive an encounter with Jungkook after using such a term on him, the result is much different from what you had anticipated. He visibly melts into your arms, cock slipping past your folds easily. “No,” he says, his voice feathery and whiny against your ear. “I can’t.”

You soothe a hand down his back, eyes fluttering shut as he begins slowly rutting against your swollen lips. “That’s it,” you encourage, tugging softly at his wavy hair. Jungkook moans wantonly against your neck, rolling his hips harshly against you until his arms are the only things keeping you from jostling out of his hold. “Do you like this pussy?” you ask, purposefully clenching around him, tummy tightening at the stimulation you keep packing on.

Jungkook shudders, pace growing slipping inside of you. “Yes,” he pants, “s-so wet… creamy.”

“Yeah?” you huff, pressing a smiley kiss against his forehead. “It’s yours.”

“Ffffuck,” Jungkook chokes, picking up his pace as his well-deserved orgasm reaches its peak. He’s breathing harshly now, and it’s taking everything in you to keep your pussy tight around him. But after the night he’d given you, the sounds and faces he pulled from you, it’s the least you can do. Besides, your body, after being so thoroughly pleased, still rears up for one final orgasm with him. “Mine,” he growls, bucking his hips into you. “You’re mine, baby, mine,” he seethes, ending his little tryst with a piston of his hips that makes you gasp, body almost unconsciously spasming around him. It’s painful, but so, so delicious how he manages to pull this last orgasm from you as he finally busts inside of you.

He comes with a stuttering garble of words, none of which you catch as he collapses into your hold for the final time that night. “Fuck,” he pants afterwards, leaning into your touch when he finally registers the soft combing of fingers through his hair. “That was evil.”

You laugh, pulling him closer. “As evil as you making me suffer through three orgasms before putting your dick in me?” you tease. Jungkook slips out of you, and you know it’ll be a hassle to clean your sheets tomorrow but it’s worth it.

“It’s called building the scene,” he weakly defends, blindly tugging the puffy blanket over the two of you. “I was gonna rhyme it with that horrible website you made me use but I already forgot it’s name.”

“Rude,” you snap, “it’s called KissAnime.”

“And fore-play,” he suddenly says, and you almost yank his eyeballs out of their sockets for doing that stupid thing again.

—

epilogue 

Two weeks later, your favorite website and home to hentai ads is shut down after years of piracy. Jungkook laughs at your demise, sits and actually cackles at your heartbreak, until he eventually comforts you with his flaming demon cock and a subscription to both Crunchyroll and Funimation. Doyeon spends weeks tracking down a missing package, apparently some freebie she’d gotten for being such an avid customer on Sexuality Unleashed: The Best Toys Worldwide! before eventually finding it in your drawer. And because her and Jungkook have some awkward life-long rivalry for your attention, he doesn’t pay for that. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[jsngwrld]

𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒃𝒐𝒚

pairing : jisung x reader

word count : 1.6k

warnings : smut, mommy kink, use of babyboy but not age regression!!!, also only babyboy and sungie are used for jisung, fairly gender-neutral reader, soft dom!reader, sub!jisung, jisung has an oral fixation, a small bit of teasing, thigh riding, praise, jisung is whiny, nipple play kinda???, jisung sucks on reader’s chest, he’s also gagged using the reader’s fingers, mostly jisung focused tbh, a small tiny mention of edging and a small mention of tears, jisung cums in his pants, brief aftercare mention (don’t forget it irl though, it’s vvv important)

author’s note! ahh my first official writing!! i wrote this in like an hour and a half maybe??? babyboy!sungie = lots of motivation 

also also this is dedicated to cedar <3 @http-chan​ bc they supported me in making this blog and listened to all of my thoughts about babyboy!sungie <3

it’s incredibly easy to tell when jisung is needy. 

his eyes get even more round than they usually are and he takes glances at you that he thinks are sneaky but give him away instantly. he chews on his bottom lip and starts fidgeting with his fingers, playing with the hem of one of his oversized sweaters that he normally wears. he won’t come out right to say what he wants, waiting for you to pick up on his signals, but instantly blushes and hides when you ask him what he wants. 

it’s incredibly easy to tell when jisung is needy. and that’s where you are now. 

the male had been setting up a movie and some snacks for an at-home date you two were having when you noticed the first sign; the round eyes and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. a couple minutes later, he began to fidget, glancing at you on the couch. once he’s finished setting the movie up and settles beside you, that’s when it becomes obvious. he can barely sit still, small whines passing his lips, trying to keep his eyes focused on the movie in front of him. you can easily see the movements under the blanket over your laps as he tries to find the most subtle way to tell you what he wants.

the opening scenes have barely begun when you reach a hand over onto his thigh, jisung letting out a small squeak at the sudden contact. 

“sungie,” you start, the nickname eliciting a small whine from his lips, “why’re you so fidgety? aren’t you going to pay attention to the movie?” 

he knows you know. and he knows that you won’t give him what he wants until he asks for it. jisung knows you love hearing him ask for whatever it is that he wants, you love hearing him beg. he’s torn between giving into your fake obliviousness and keeping his facade up until you give into him. he turns to look at you and pouts when he realizes that you’re not even looking at him. you’re playing a game with him, seeing how long he can last before he gives in. and so far, you’re winning. 

jisung tries to hold back, he really does, but with your hand moving up towards the growing bulge in his sweatpants and the occasional question asking him if he’s alright is becoming too much for him to handle. your hand eventually brushes over his clothed cock, claiming you were reaching for the popcorn and that’s when he breaks. a small, high pitched whine leaves his lips and his hand moves to tug on your sleeve. you turn to look at him, only to see a small pout formed on his lips, his eyes big and glossy. just that one look is enough to know that jisung’s in his subspace now and you pause the movie to give him your full attention.

“m-mommy,” he murmurs, chewing on his bottom lip as pink dusts his cheeks, trying to figure out the words to express his want. 

“yes, babyboy? what’s the matter?” you ask, voice soft and smooth as it always is when you’re talking to jisung. 

the effect of the name is clear from the way jisung’s face grows more red, the pout turning into a shy smile. his hands pull away from fidgeting with his sweater to play with the hem of your top, looking up at you pleadingly.

“c-can i...can i...w-want-” jisung stammers, flushing more every time he tries to explain what he wants. 

you find his shyness adorable, smiling encouragingly as he tries to find the right words to say. you decide to have a little mercy on him, not pushing for the full request like you normally might have. instead, you pull the male onto your lap, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“such a good boy aren’t you, babyboy? using your words for mommy,” you praise and he whines again softly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “i know what you want, sungie, it’s alright”.

you pull him back slightly to tug your top off, revealing your chest. jisung’s oral fixation isn’t always sexual, sometimes just needing something to ground and calm him but with the way his hips have started moving slowly against your thigh, you know that this is more than that. 

his reaction is nearly instant, looking up at you briefly for permission before leaning down and attaching his lips to your chest. his eyes flutter shut and he lets out a small content sigh, noticeably relaxing in your lap. jisung is slipping further into his space the more you indulge him, his hands wrapping around you loosely to ensure you don’t go anywhere. he’s completely enamoured, lips sealing around your nipple to suckle gently before they part and continue their previous actions. 

every one of your soft moans and slight change in the gentle grip you have on his sweater spurs him on, a thin trail of saliva remaining between his lips and your chest when he pulls back briefly to switch to your other nipple. your hand occasionally runs through his hair, getting more content sighs and whines in reply. 

noticing the subtle movements of his hips against your thigh, your hands move down to his hips, stilling them for a moment.

“wanna ride my thigh, babyboy?” you ask, getting an enthusiastic nod and a muffled “yes please” in response. 

“always such good manners, sungie,” you smile, starting to guide his hips across your thigh, slow and steady at first. 

jisung rolls his hips down, matching his pace with yours. his whines turn into high pitched, breathy moans as he grinds down, still intently suckling on your chest. as you speed up your guidance a little, a whimper slips passed his lips, pulling back from your chest momentarily. his head is resting on your collarbone, eyes barely open as he moans, the volume only increasing as you increase the speed of his hips. 

“the neighbours are gonna hear you if you get too loud, babyboy, and we wouldn’t want them hearing your cute sounds, would we?” you ask, voice sweet despite the content of your words. “maybe i should gag you, hm?” you add, not expecting the loud whine and desperate nodding you get from the male on your lap. 

a small stain begins forming on the front of his sweatpants, precum leaking from his cock, straining against his boxers; he’s getting close. this only increases the volume of his high-pitched moans, his hands now gripping onto anything that they can find, desperately chasing his high. his head is tossed back, lips parted as your title passes his lip in a broken whine.

“shh, gotta stay quiet, sungie,” you remind, bringing your hand up to his mouth and tapping two fingers along his bottom lip. 

jisung instantly gets the message, taking the two digits into his mouth, lips sealing around them instantly like they had with your chest earlier. he sucks on the fingers, tongue swirling around them, effectively quieting his sounds. 

you speed his hips up again, the male nearly collapsing against you at the immense pleasure. he’s almost there, his release so close, his cock twitching in his pants. you pull your fingers from his lips, jisung’s sounds and your title filling the room again. 

“m-mommy, ‘m so so c-close. w-wanna cum, p-please mommy,” he babbles, tears starting to form in his eyes in desperation. 

normally, you might edge him a little, make him wait and take it like the good boy he is but he’s been too good for you to play with him like that. he deserves a reward and you decide to be lenient with him today.

“go ahead, babyboy, you can cum,” you whisper, kissing his forehead and continuing to guide his hips quickly over your thigh.

jisung’s hips stutter and the loudest moan yet leaves his lips, eyes squeezing shut as he cums in his boxers, the stain on the front of his sweatpants growing. his body shudders, broken and breathy thank you’s leaving his lips as he comes down from his high. there’s a thin layer of sweat near his hairline, hot breaths leaving his lips in heavy pants. small whispers of praise leaving your lips as you help him through his orgasm and the aftermath, hands rubbing his sides gently. 

the pants slowly turn back into slow breaths, the male curling into you once he’s calmed down a little. his eyelids are starting to droop and tired, incoherent murmurs are slipping passed his lips, a sign that he’s getting tired. you coo at his adorable behaviour, rubbing his back and kissing his temple. 

“before you go to sleep, let’s get you cleaned up, okay? don’t want you to fall asleep all sticky,” you whisper, leading him to the bathroom in the apartment.

jisung yawns, tired and nearly about to fall asleep but keeps himself awake for you, loving how gentle you were when you cleaned him up. you grab a soft towel, his favourite one, beginning to wipe away the sweat then helping him change into the shorts and t-shirt he liked to wear to bed. 

as you lay in bed, you feel jisung’s limbs begin to tangle with yours, a regular thing for the two of you. you’re about to drift to sleep when you hear jisung’s quiet voice, laced with sleep, call out to you.

“did i do okay?” he asks, nuzzled into your shoulder. jisung wasn’t insecure about your relationship, both in and out of bed, but it always eased his mind when he was reassured. 

turning towards him, you cup his cheek, running your thumb over the skin lovingly.

“you were perfect, babyboy”.

[ellebi-studies]

Hi guys,

After these months of intense studying, I thought about how important it is to have an effective study plan. It helps me deal with the anxiety and keep control of the material.

Here is an explanation of how I usually make my study plan.

Tip 1: organise the material.

Before the beginning of the lessons, I look at the course outline. Then, I break the syllabus into pieces. I write a Word document making a list of all the things I have to do.

I create a sort of index of the topics, specifying the source (books, notes, slides, etc.).

It gives me an idea of what I will have to insert into my study plan without leaving anything behind.

Anyways, remember that it should be flexible. During the classes, you will necessarily have to modify the schedule.

Tip 2: look at the data of the exams.

Sometimes exam's rounds are inconvenient, so you should consider this point before scheduling your study.

Also, try to understand which subject is better to study first. For example, you should consider taking the histology exam before the anatomy one. Indeed, microscopical anatomy is required to understand the macroscopical.

Tip 3: insert some days off.

You are likely to have some setback, especially when making a long-term plan. Also, you have to remember you need to relax to be more productive.

If you do not need these days, you can take advantage of these days to make forward with your work, make up for the work you have back, or sleep a couple of hours more. Trust me: you will be grateful for these days.

Plus, always organise your plan so that you will finish some days ahead of schedule. You might use these days to study something you had left behind.

Furthermore, do not work the day before the exam. I always highlight this point in my posts: you have to arrive at the exam with certainties while rehearsing at the last minute will increase your doubts. You will unavoidably experience the "I do not know anything" feeling, which is terrible for your anxiety and will affect your performance. Whilst, use the previous day only for the last check of most irksome topics but then relax.

Tip 4: progress with your work.

When making the schedule, make yourself already forward. The first days of studying are always the hardest because you do not have the rhythm yet. Knowing that you are ahead will make you less anxious and more confident.

Tip 5: during lessons, make weekly plans.

It is not easy to make a long term daily schedule because you do not know the appointments you will have.

Also, during classes, days are different. Some days you will have 8 hours of classes, while some others only 2. Plus, some lessons are more tiring than others, but you can not know this a priori.

It is why you may consider setting weekly goals. Then, you will split your goals week by week.

Tip 6: during the exam session, do not overload your schedule

I know the exam session is a stressful period. You may feel guilty if you do not spend all your day studying. Anyhow, force yourself to take some time for yourself.

Before the pandemic, when curfew did not exist, I went out with my friends in the evening. We were not up late: we had an aperitif or a pizza. But it lifted me, and it gave me motivation for the following day. Some days I was tempted by telling them I would have stayed home, but I knew it would not have been productive.

Studying for too many hours would affect your concentration, and you will fall into grief for not having been able to work.

Tip 7: make two plans.

Make a long-term plan previously, and then make a daily schedule.

Every day is different, so you may decide you want to sleep an hour more and study a little more in the evening, or the opposite. Also, you will have to organise your work and the other activities, which may vary day by day.

I enjoy making the daily plan the evening before. In this way, I wake up having a precise idea of what I had to do.

Tip 8: if you have more subjects, create a routine.

When preparing for multiple exams, prioritise them.

Identify the moments of your day in which you are more focused. Use these moments to study for the more difficult exam you have.

For example, I am more concentrated in the morning. So I always schedule the more complex subject for the first part of the day, while I dedicate the afternoon to an easier exam.

Tip 9: colour code your plan.

I always use a different colour for every subject. It immediately gives an idea of the subjects I have to study.

(Also, it is pretty and photogenic 😇).

Tip 10: do not be scared of changing the plan.

It is hard to make a perfect schedule at the first attempt.

While studying, you will notice that you are faster than expected at some topics, while you are slower at some others. Also, you may realise you need some days more for rehearsing, or you will become aware of a better routine.

Do not be scared of making the plan again as many time as you need. Only, be careful of not forgetting some topics while making the new schedule.

These are my hints for making an effective plan. Let me know if you have some more tips! I hope you enjoyed the post 😘

[daddyjackfrost]

Just a ✨suggestion✨ you know how Kuroo is like the master of provocation and he motivates people by getting under his skin? (The way he did with Tsukki)

I feel like he’d do that with his s/o too! However, not everyone responds well to that (I know I wouldn’t💀) so like I can see him going about his normal way and his s/o bottling it up until one day they couldn’t take it, and when he finds out Kuroo is DEVESTATED like wow he pushed his own s/o to their limits :(

jansjs yes. just yes.

Kuroo would definitely 100% to this, but not with the intentions to hurt you. it’s just his nature yk? he’s always been able to pick people apart until he can press their buttons just the way he wants.

i think it would start slowly. you wouldn’t actually realize Kuroo was provoking you until you stared thinking about his words late at night. Until you started watching yourself around him a bit more, afraid he’d say something that had you silently fuming in anger or self hatred.

—————

it was thursday night, and you were so angry you had put off all your work till the last minute. You had a giant writing assignment due tomorrow morning, and you hadn’t even begun.

Kuroo was out with Bokuto and as much as you wanted your boyfriend to cuddle you and pester you with love, a small part of you was glad he was away.

Last night, you had asked Kuroo for some help with chemistry, and usually, he would be ecstatic to be able to help you, but not last night.

“Kuroo, can you help me with this?”

Kuroo pushed himself off the sofa, walking up behind you to lean over your shoulder. His hazel eyes skimmed the questions you we’re having difficulty with and he let out a small teasing laugh.

“Oh come on, y/n. You study so hard and want to do all these big things and yet you can’t solve these problems?”

You wiped your sweaty hands on your leggings. You were already struggling and having Kuroo demeaning you was not helping.

You sighed and threw him a small smile. “You’re right. I’ll do it on my own.”

Kuroo just nodded and patted your head. “See? You can do anything you put your mind too.”

You just let out a small laugh, not believing him for a second.

You hear the door open and you grip your glass of water tighter. You wanted to talk to Kuroo. You needed to tell him you didn’t appreciate his provoking ways, and that if he wanted to motivate you, he should find better ways. It wasn’t healthy for you to actually be anxious when he was around, but recently, Kuroo had been a bit more demeaning and a bit more scheming.

“Y/n~” came Kuroo’s voice. “I’m home.”

“In here!”

After a couple seconds, Kuroo walked into your living room. His eyes landed on figure, sitting on the sofa with your laptops on your thighs.

“What’re you doing, babe?”

You groaned and tilted your head back to rest of the sofa. “I’ve been trying to write for the past two hours.”

Kuroo frowned and moved closer to you. “Why did you put this off till last minute, y/n?”

You closed your eyes and muttered a few profanities under your breath. “I don’t know, tetso.”

You prayed Kuroo would just smile at you, maybe tell you that it would be okay. That you would finish it and that he believed in you.

But no, that’s not Kuroo.

Because Kuroo’s never been one to gently motivate, or to praise. Unless it was in bed, but even then, it was rare.

Kuroo tsked, and your eyes shot open. You knew a jab from Kuroo was coming, and you hated it.

“You always do this, y/n. You always procrastinate and then complain. Don’t you want to be better? Do you really want y/f/n to exceed you?”

Tears sprung to your eyes. You knew he was right, he was always right, but you didn’t want to hear that. You didn’t want to hear about how terrible you are with time management, and how you always procrastinate.

You wanted to be angry at Kuroo, hell, you were angry at Kuroo, but the logical part of you always made it difficult. You had been friends with Kuroo since you were younger. You knew of his nature, of her personality, but it’s like the small wall Kuroo had made to not hurt you had broken. You knew it wasn’t intentional, but that didn’t hurt any less.

You abruptly stood up, slamming your laptop closed.

Kuroo’s eyes widened and he took a small step back.

“Kitten?”

You shook your head. “I’m gonna go finish this upstairs. There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry.” And with that, you walked away.

Hours later, when Kuroo made his way to your shared bedroom, he hoped you were done and awake. He had barely seen you today and he wanted to sleep with you in his arms.

Kuroo was smug. He was glad he was able to motivate you and get you working on your assignment.

Pushing the door open, Kuroo’s eyes landed on your slouched figure against the bed. Your laptop was shut and your eyes were tightly closed.

Kuroo felt his eyes soften. He loved seeing you asleep, it was the only time you were truly ever at peace. Except, when Kuroo walked closer to you, ready to lay you down properly, he noticed the tightness of your eyes, and the small frown on your lips.

Kuroo just brushed it away.

It’s just stress, he thought.

When you woke up, you were greeted with Kuroo’s sleeping figure. His black hair was swept across the pillow and his eyes were shut. You could feel his arm wrapped around you and you smiled.

You let yourself enjoy a few more moments, but then you slipped out of bed and started your morning routine. You were going to talk to Kuroo today. You didn’t know how much longer you could withstand his harsh words.

Kuroo found you in the kitchen. Your back to him as you flipped some pancakes.

You slightly jumped when you felt strong arms wrap around your waist.

“Morning, love.” Kuroo’s husky morning voice greeted you.

You squeezed his hand. “Morning.”

“You finish your paper last night?”

You nodded, flipping the pancake. “Yeah.”

Kuroo kissed the back of your head. “See? I knew you could do it.”

You mumbled a small yeah, and pushed Kuroo away from you. “Set the table, Tetso.”

Kuroo nodded and picked up two plates from the cupboard. He grabbed two knifes and forks and put them on the table. You brought the plate of pancakes and sat down.

You both began to quietly eat. Kuroo didn’t think much of the silence. He knew you weren’t really a morning person and didn’t appreciate a lot of talking so early in the morning.

You, however, were a nervous mess. Throughout your shower and up until Kuroo had hugged you, you were thinking of ways to bring up the issue.

You put down your fork and knife, clearing your throat.

Kuroo looked up at you, his mouth full of pancake.

A small smile made its way to your face. He looked so cute like this, with his cheeks all puffed out.

“I-uh,” your palms began to sweat and you wiped them on your sweatpants.

“Y/n?”

You slightly shook your head, trying to shake off the nervousness. This was Kuroo, you thought. Your boyfriend of four years. You shouldn’t be nervous.

“I wanted to—uh— talk to you about something.”

Kuroo nodded, and put down his fork and knife. All of his attention was on you.

When you didn’t speak right away, Kuroo’s lips lifted into a teasing smirk. “Cat got your tongue?”

Turns out this was the one time you were glad he had provoked you.

You slammed your hands on the table, causing Kuroo to instantly drop his smirk.

“That!” You yelled, pointing at him. “That needs to stop!”

Kuroo’s eyes widened in confusion. “...what?”

All the dismissal and all the logic had left your brain. You were angry at Kuroo, and the fact that he chose to poke fun at you while you wanted to talk to him made you all the more angerier.

“You always do this Tetsoru! I’m sick of you constantly trying to provoke me! It hurts! I know you mean well, but your words hurt me, and i’m sick of it!”

Kuroo’s eyes widen in surprise. When he fully processes your words, his lips tug into a frown and a whirlpool of emotions start rising in him.

Kuroo noticed your flushed cheeks, the few tears that had gathered in your eyes, and his heart broke.

He did that.

He hurt you.

He’s been hurting you.

“I know you do this to everyone, but I’m not everyone! You’re not on the court anymore! You don’t need to be sly or calculating with me.”

Every word of yours pierced his heart.

Kuroo knew he had a tendency to just try and get under everyone’s skin. It became a habit. However, Kuroo didn’t know he was hurting you.

“I love you Kuroo, but please, please take my feelings into consideration. Times when I need your reassurance or praise, you just end up hurting me.”

A couple angry tears had escaped your eyes, falling down your cheek. You felt so relieved to get all of this off your chest.

When your eyes met Kuroo’s, your eyes widened. There were tears in his eyes. His eyes were wide, and his hands were shaking.

You quickly slid off your chair and walked to Kuroo’s side, sitting on the edge of the table.

Kuroo’s heart hurt. He couldn’t believe he had hurt you like this. You were the one person he never wanted to hurt. You were the one person who Kuroo loved more than anything, and the realization that he had hurt you, killed him.

Kuroo lifted his head and his teary eyes met yours.

“I am so sorry, y/n.”

Your lips slightly parted in surprise. Kuroo had never been this open and vulnerable with you.

“I—” Kuroo let out a small breath.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about your feelings. Please, y/n, please forgive me.”

Kuroo’s lips trembled.

You felt your heart squeeze in your chest. You were glad that Kuroo realized his words had hurt you, but you didn’t want to see him hurt.

“I promise I’ll be better. I promise I’ll work on it.”

You nodded softly at him. “I know, Tetso.”

You pried Kuroo’s arms apart and slid onto his lap. Your legs were on either side of him. Kuroo didn’t dare touch you. His arms were limp beside him.

You brought your hands to his cheeks, slowly brushing his cheekbones.

“Please don’t leave me,” Kuroo mumbled.

You tilted your head closer to his face, softly kissing his lips.

“I’m not leaving you, not over this.”

————————-

PLS WHAT IS THIS

anyways, i hope you like it! I wrote this during accounting so 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

daddyjackfrost © 2021 | all content belongs to me, do not modify

[works-of-fanfiction]

Together - 90s!Graham Coxon x Reader

Summary: Graham takes care of the reader after a particularly hard couple of weeks.

Warnings: Literally none - straight up, good old-fashioned fluff.

Word Count: 2.8k

Side Note: I haven’t written since 2019 or something like that, so forgive me if this isn’t the best!

————-

Sometimes you wonder whether your job is actually worth the exhaustion - your hand comes up to turn out the office light, exactly two hours and seventeen minutes later than you’d expected. Maybe it’s too much to ask for the work day to end at your contracted time. You scoff at yourself at the sheer thought, like your managers would ever treat you like a human being.

The tube ride home feels longer than usual, and you’re completely unable to focus on the book balanced in your lap. You’d always tried to be one of those leave work at work people - ‘don’t take your work home with you’ everyone says… but it’s impossible. You were good at your job, no doubt about that, but that came with the downside of being taken advantage of. People aren’t going to do their own dirty work when the overachiever down the corridor can do it for them. Though, how could you ever refuse? Why would you risk saying ‘no’?

Swinging the apartment door open, you drop your bag onto the ground and nudge it further to the side with your foot. Your loud entrance does not go unnoticed by your droopy-eyed boyfriend sprawled on the armchair. The first thing you feel when you see him is guilt. You don’t want to be the reason he forces himself to stay awake. You don’t want to be so fragile that he feels he can’t go to bed without seeing you first to make sure you’re alright. Once he catches sight of you, a weak smile spreads across his lips as he drags himself to his feet and shuffles over to where you’re standing. You paste a fake smile onto your face, hoping you can lie and pretend you had a good day so he can finally get some sleep.

“Hey sweetheart.” Graham mumbles, holding out his arms for you to fall into. You do just that, your head sinking onto his shoulder, inhaling his scent like it’s the last chance you’ll get. He holds you tightly in the doorway, supporting your body weight as you limply cling onto him. You claw at the back of his shirt, gathering the fabric between your fingers as if he could slip away any moment and disappear. His only response to this is to squeeze you as his chin rests on your head. “Hard day?” He finally asks, separating the two of you and holding you at arms length.

You don’t want to be a burden and you’d already come home from work two nights out of five this week feeling like this. You begin to shake your head, hoping that the lie will be easier to tell if you don’t speak, but as you stare into Graham’s eyes, you know he doesn’t buy it. The look on his face is all too familiar; he can read you like a book and he knows damn well that you’re not OK. Your head shake slowly evolves into a nod, and you don’t hold back the first sob that leaves your lips. Graham immediately catches you in his grasp again, holding you as you cry into his chest. He doesn’t waste time trying to find the right words to say to you because he knows that’s not what you need. You don’t need a soppy, motivational speech or a string of “it’s okay”s. Instead, you’re comforted by the beating of Graham’s heart and the warmth from his body as he carefully steps back and begins to guide you into the living room. You stand up straight and slip your hand into his, lacing your fingers together in that perfect way that just feels right. No matter where you are, as long as your hand finds his, you know you’re safe and that everything is going to be alright.

As you go to sit down, Graham stops you and helps slide your coat off of your shoulders. You sniffle, quietly thanking him as he tosses it over the back of the armchair. You sink onto the sofa, the throw blanket from the back already slipping off and bunching up behind you. You adjust, your fingers pinching at the stray hairs sticking to your tear-stained cheeks. All you can do is stare at your feet, your eyes tracing the triangular patterns on your socks - Graham’s socks that you’d put on in a hurry that morning. The extra bit of fabric hanging off the tip of your toes makes that evident. You’re too focused on the ground beneath you to hear Graham go into the kitchen.

He boils the kettle, reaching into the very back of the cupboard to find your favourite mug - a round cream-coloured cup with a black cat’s face painted onto it, wearing a pair of red glasses. He’d bought it for you in Camden as a silly little gift, but you fell in love with it the moment you saw it and have treasured it ever since. Though you barely use it, as you can’t trust your own clumsiness and you’re too scared you’ll break it.

Graham makes your tea just the way you like it and carefully carries it into the living room. He remembers to bring the half-eaten packet of custard creams with him too. He’s not sure you’ll want them, but he usually sneakily dips one into your tea when you’re not looking so they won’t entirely go to waste. With one hand, he pushes all the clutter on the coffee table to one side, and places the cup down in front of you with the cat facing in your direction. You look up, a small smile on your face as you spot the mug. Graham squeezes through the gap between your knees and the coffee table to sit down beside you.

“That was the last teabag, so drink up.” He gently teases, pointing at the cup. A small exhale of air from your nose is all you can muster to show your amusement as you reach forward and take a slow sip. It’s perfect, and that feeling of sad happiness washes over you. You’re happy to have Graham; happy that he’s there for you and happy that he remembers your particular taste in hot drinks. Who else would know that one sugar is not enough but two is too much? Who else would measure one and a half teaspoons and make sure it’s stirred in completely?

But the sadness still remains. You’re sad that he’s making the tea to try and cheer you up; sad that he’s used the last teabag and he’s going without a drink of his own. You’re sad that he’s sat here watching you cry one time too many.

It’s silent for a while. It’s clear he’s waiting for you to speak first but you’re not sure what to say. You feel like you’ve said everything a thousand times already, and the last thing you want is to be the broken record constantly spinning in the room.

You gulp down half of your tea before putting the mug back on the table. You turn to face Graham who scoots forward, eager to be there for you and ready to listen. He sits cross-legged, his sleeves rolled down to cover his hands with just his fingertips poking out. Your own fingers pick at a stray piece of thread hanging from the hem of your shirt, wrapping it around your forefinger then unwrapping it over and over. “I really really don’t like that place, Graham.” You whisper, part of you not wanting to hear your own admission. You’d fought hard for that job and were ashamed and embarrassed that it hadn’t gone the way you’d planned. Graham nods in understanding, moving closer to you to wrap an arm around you. He pulls you into him, your head resting on his shoulder as he rubs your back lovingly.

”I know, love.” He presses a kiss to your temple, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling. Just having him beside you and feeling his touch is enough to calm the heavy beating of your heart and steady the shaking of your knees. “But hey, it’s Friday night which means tomorrow is Saturday. We have the entire weekend to do whatever we want! The entire weekend to not think about work for a single second.” He encourages, standing up and holding his hand out to you. “Come on.”

You reach over to grab your mug and quickly finish the rest of your drink. You grab a biscuit and bite half of it, feeding the other half to Graham. Crumbs fall from his mouth and he tries to catch them in his other hand but fails. You smile sadly, the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, before taking his hand and letting him lead you to your bedroom. He sits you on the bed and grabs a fresh towel from the wardrobe. “First, let’s wash off the day, hmm?” He smiles and you nod in response. He leans over and kisses your forehead, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the bathroom to run a bubble bath. He fills it with your favourite coconut-scented bubbles and fumbles around in his pocket to find his lighter to ignite the candle on the windowsill. It’s almost completely melted away, but he’s certain there’s enough there for it to stay lit for tonight.

He hangs the towel over the radiator to warm it up and tests the water before calling you in. You shiver as you shuffle past Graham, then lower yourself into the water. You hiss at the heat at first, but you’re soon submerged and used to it. You look over to Graham who’s knelt on the floor beside you. “Aren’t you getting in?” You ask, lying down and covering yourself with the bubbles. He shakes his head, rolling his sleeves up and pushing his glasses onto the top of his head.

“This is for you, love. You deserve to relax.” He reaches into the bath and strokes your shoulder softly. He spots a hair tie on the counter and grabs it, then stands and leans over to help tie your hair back. He scrunches it all together and ties it into a messy bun on the top of your head. It doesn’t look the best but it does the job. You look at him and smile, grabbing his arm and giving it a loving squeeze. In that moment, all you can think about is how lucky you are to have Graham. Even something as simple as him tying your hair up makes your heart swell. You wish you could stay in this room with him forever and never face any responsibilities.

You sit up to grab the soap but he beats you to it, the sponge in his other hand. “What did I say about relaxing?” He starts, eyebrows raised. “Let me.”

“Graham, you don’t have t - “

“I want to.” He cuts you off, dipping the sponge into the water and rubbing it together with the soap. You lie back down and he slowly starts to wash you, leaning over the bathtub to reach your legs. You watch as the water spills over the side a little and dampens his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind. His fingertips lightly brush your thigh and you flinch as it tickles you. Graham laughs, doing it again on purpose until you’re practically kicking your feet like a paddling dog.

“Graham!” You squeal, grabbing his wrist and using all your strength to stop him. He splashes you in the face and you splash him back, just missing him as he ducks out of the way.

“You’re going to be the one cleaning that up later.” He jokes, gesturing to the small puddle behind him. You cover your mouth with your hand, laughing quietly as he shakes his head and continues his path up your body with the sponge. He’s gentle throughout, making sure not to scrub too harshly. You move so he can wash your back last, before he wrings out the sponge and places it back on the edge of the tub. “All clean.” He smiles, drying his hands on his jeans. You lie back, not wanting to get out just yet.

“Tell me about your day Graham, tell me something good.” You say, closing your eyes and letting the bubbles cover you again, or what’s left of them at least. He pushes his glasses back onto his face and ruffles his hair, sitting against the door with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“We rehearsed a couple songs today. We didn’t get through the whole setlist as Dave wasn’t feeling too well, and what can we do without the drummer, eh?” You keep your eyes closed as you listen to Graham talk. You could listen to him talk about music and the band for hours. You’re unbelievably proud of him and you know you’ll never get tired of hearing about every new song, music video or ridiculous lyric Damon has come out with. “Alex bought everyone lunch which was nice. Damon thought he’d broken something and was trying to butter us up or bribe us with the food!” He laughs, the sound so infectious that you can’t help but laugh with him.

“Was he bribing you?” You ask, opening your eyes and looking over at him. Butterflies dance inside your stomach as you admire Graham under the glaring white light above his head. Even in poor bathroom lighting he’s still the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. His sleeves are still rolled up to his elbows and you can see little pen scribbles on one of his arms, most likely rushed notes from rehearsal. He never did allow himself the time to just find a piece of paper. His hair is sticking out a little at the front, probably from where his glasses were sitting previously. His cheeks are a rosy pink colour, as are yours, caused by the humidity in the room.

“Nope! He was just being nice.” He grins, standing to grab the towel from the radiator. He holds it out for you and you get up, quickly getting out and wrapping yourself in it. You mentally praise his genius for leaving it on the radiator, thankful for how warm it is. It’s exactly what you need, especially on a cold night in the middle of February.

He leads you back into the bedroom and runs over to close the window to keep you warm. “Alright, pyjamas or - “

”Can I have one of your shirts?” You interrupt, looking towards his set of drawers in the corner. “I don’t want the one you’re wearing, you’re all… soggy.”

He laughs at your choice of words before rummaging through his middle drawer to find the right shirt. He tosses it over to you and it’s one of your favourites; red, long-sleeved and fleecy on the inside. You slide it on with your usual stripy pyjama pants and let your hair down. Graham strips off and takes your laundry into the bathroom to put into the basket. Whilst there, he roughly dries the floor and blows out the candle. He then does a quick scan of the apartment to make sure everything is switched off and the door is locked properly before getting into bed with you.

It pours with rain outside but you love the sound against the windows. Graham hoists himself up against the bed frame and you lay your head on his chest, throwing your left arm over him. Both of your legs wrap around one of his and he keeps you close with his arm around your back. “So, what do you want to do tomorrow?” He asks, his hand drifting upwards to play with the ends of your hair.

“Can we go to Covent Garden and get cinnamon waffles and ice cream?” He chuckles at your response and the specificity of it.

“Ice cream in this weather?”

You nod, your hair tickling his bare chest. He pulls you in closer and adjusts the blanket so you’re covered properly. “Anything for you, sweetheart.” He kisses your head, and you sit up a little to face him. You stretch upwards to kiss him, his hand staying in your hair as he kisses back. You can still taste the sugar from the biscuits on his lips, and you smile into the kiss before lying back down and closing your eyes. You both whisper “I love you”s before you press one last kiss on his shoulder. Graham’s soft breathing coupled with the rain outside begins to lull you to sleep. He stays awake, stroking your hair and watching your feet fidget beneath the covers.

“You don’t have to go back to that job next week. I’ve got things covered until something else comes along.” He whispers, and you barely register his words as you hum in response and nuzzle your head into his chest. In that moment, everything feels OK and Graham knows that as long as you’re together and you have each other, that nothing can bring either of you down for too long. Once your breathing evens out, he closes his own eyes, but not without telling you how lucky he is beforehand. You’re not awake to hear it, but that doesn’t matter.

[bluefirewrites]

not sure if u are still taking this but, celebrity/fan au for JUKEE 🤭

Okay this one's a little involved but I got you!

Rated T for mentions of sex and maybe some language

SEND ME A SHIP AND A NUMBER AND I’LL WRITE A SHORT FIC

******

Julie tugs against the rather short dress Flynn had squeezed her in, not caring for how much she looks like a glorified candy wrapper in the shimmering gold.

She feels like she's some Ferrer Roche, waiting to be devoured.

Which seems to be her intention for tonight because she's insane, and so is her bestie Flynn, because she's supposed to grab the attention of a certain someone in this club.

Her motives for tonight sound like they come straight out of a Wattpad story, but her boyfriend- or well maybe an ex boyfriend now'- forced her hand.

So a year ago, right around the time they started dating, they both disclosed their 'hall passes'. Just a list of celebrities they were both 'allowed' to cheat on their partners with. It was fun. Just to see who the other person would pick. 

It was harmless because the whole point is that these people are so famous, so far out of reach, that the odds of hooking up with them would be essentially impossible.

Nick's was the lead singer of the world famous pop group Dirty Candi. And Julie remembers drunkenly applauding the choice ("She's pretty! Wowww you like them Bubblegum Pop girls?")

They had a laugh that night and Julie doesn't really consider that hall pass conversation all that much since then-

-Until fast forward to last week when Nick disclosed to her that he ran into Carrie Wilson at an event. And then promptly disclosed to her that he invoked his 'Hall Pass' rights.

His rights?! She had exploded at him, and he claims that its no big deal. That he thought she would understand that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a crazy set of circumstances, and that- 'Holy shit Jules, she was actually into me. Like what?'

Understandably, Julie stormed out and has been staying with Flynn for the time being. And it must have been the haze of crying and watching a lot of true crime series to cheer herself up that she and Flynn concocted this... plan.

One fueled by spite and pettiness.

Get back at Nick, make him jealous, make him feel how she did- by invoking her own 'Hall Pass' rights- 

-which so happens to be Sunset Curve frontman, Luke Patterson... 

"There he is" Flynn whispers from their corner of the club and Julie gulps.

"I don't think I can do this," Julie hisses at Flynn, when they spot him at the bar, nursing a drink with his bandmates like he usually would (they did their research). 

See, Julie’s been a fan of Luke’s for a long time. Ever since she heard ‘Now or Never’ in freshman year of high school, she’s been hooked onto their music- especially Luke and his voice and playing. 

She had their posters on her bedroom wall and had been that girl who would (when no one’s looking) press her fingers to her lips then press them against Luke’s image before going to bed. 

It was that bad. 

And Julie had probably fantasized on more than one occasion of meeting him and all the other scenarios you would picture in a typical Celeb x Reader scenario. 

And she’d like to think she grew out of it, now she’s in her mid-twenties and just casually listens to Sunset Curve, following up on their careers every now and then. 

But you can never really shake your first major celebrity crush. Hence he had been on her so called ‘Hall Pass’ list. 

(”You into rockstars, Jules?” Nick had teased her that night.)

Seeing him there, in the same place as her, is so surreal, but Flynn’s continued pinches to her arm remind her just how real this is. 

“This is ridiculous,” Julie crosses her arms, ready to bow out because what is she thinking? Why would Luke Patterson pick her up, of all people, at the bar? It’s like a supermodel runway in here, filled with girls more accomplished and famous. Her confidence is shaken a bit and she rethinks everything. 

"Nick didn't seem to have a problem when he did it," Flynn points out, “And girl, you look great. He would be blind to not want you.” 

The mention of Nick still boils her blood, which only reaffirms her plans for revenge. She’s still nervous but they both stand up from their booth and walk over to the bar. 

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” 

“No. You’re musician extraordinaire, Julie Molina! The world may not have heard about you, but they will one day. I bet that’s something you can talk to him about. Music? Lyrics?” 

Julie could use her songwriting credentials to her advantage, “I mean I guess-” 

“Quick, he’s getting up!” 

“Flynn, wait I’m not-” 

With a forceful push, Flynn sends Julie into the path of Luke Patterson, colliding into him and effectively spilling his drink all over her dress. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gapes at her, “I am so sorry-” 

Julie fans herself, shaking slightly from the fact she’s drenched and also that her freakin’ high school celebrity crush is looking at her, actually talking to her. 

But she recovers quickly, and she speaks, “It’s fine. Really. I guess I’m just... clumsy.” She shoots a glare at Flynn, who merely winks and retreats to their booth. 

Luke grimaces and takes her by the hand, leading her somewhere, napkins in his other hand, “Here, let’s get you cleaned up. Again, I’m sorry. Hate to ruin a pretty... dress.”

It’s the way he eyes her that catches Julie off guard. He’s... not talking about the dress, is he? 

Julie reels it back in tries her hand at a joke, “I wouldn’t call this a dress. I feel like fancy leftovers in this thing.” 

Luke stifles a laugh, “Okay, I mean I wasn’t gonna say anything but yeah. I guess it’s a bit tin foil-y.”

“Not your style?”

His gaze drifts over to her one last time, “Well, any way to take a meal back home is fine by me. I mean-” Luke scrunches his nose, wincing, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. That was too... much. Are we-” he laughs nervously, “Are we still... talking about food?”

“Unless you just called me a meal. Then no.” 

The look in his eyes say that he’s absolutely mortified, “...yeah. I think I did. I was hoping that was a nightmare.” 

“Nope, it definitely happened,” 

“Feel free to slap me,” 

Julie giggles, somewhat delirious because she hasn’t tried to flirt with him but here Luke is, flirting with her. Or trying. And failing. Like a far cry from the suave rockstar she had pictured him to be. 

“No need. Just, can you-?” she points to the napkins he’s holding hostage. 

“Oh yeah. Here,” They stop in front of the coat check, and he hands her the napkins so she could try herself off with the best she can.

Suddenly, a weight falls onto her shoulders, she looks up and sees Luke draping a jacket over her- his presumably. 

“You looked cold,”

Julie wraps the jacket tight against her, relishing in the warmth, “Wow, thanks.”

Luke smiled and stepped back, “Just so you know, if I made you feel weird in any way, I’d like to throw out my third ‘sorry’ of the night. Nothing has to happen though. So, just say the word and I’ll leave you alone.”

Whew. Um, okay. Julie stands there, faced with this decision. 

The compliments aside (she will revisit those later), Luke’s giving her an out. Any reservations she has about moving forward with this plan, this is her chance to leave. 

She could just treasure these amazing few minutes for the rest of her life. This could be a story to tell friends at a dinner party, about the time a rockstar lent her his jacket. Would be up there with the time Jack Black passed her on the street and said “Nice hat!”. 

But-

Maybe she wants to see where this goes. 

“All this talk about food is making me hungry though...” she says and Luke lights up, “I could go for a bite to eat.” 

Luke snaps his fingers, “I know just the place.” 

*******

Half an hour later, Julie and Flynn are in a smelly alleyway with the guys from Sunset Curve, in line for a street dog cart just a couple blocks away. 

“An Oldsmobile?” Julie gawked after hearing Luke and the guys describe the delicacy, “Are you trying to poison me?”

“I swear by it,” Luke insists, taking her hand and moving them up in the line. Flynn sees this and doesn’t comment, but Julie’s starting to get used to Luke doing that, “You have to try!”  

Julie doesn't know when she got over her initial starstruck, but by now its so easy to treat Luke like a regular person.

Well, celebrities are all regular people in the end, but more so now that he and his friends, have their sleeves rolled up, smiles wide, ready to dig into what may be the most disgusting hot dog she has ever seen.

Julie takes a bite out of hers and her eyes widen. Wow. It's not terrible.

"Ayy! We got another one, boys" Reggie laughs, noting her reaction.

"Told ya" Luke needles her sides and she giggles, ticklish. Her knee jerk reaction is to playfully shove him, but in the process accidentally smeared some mustard onto his face.

Luke goes to lick it off with his tongue, making funny faces as he did which amused Julie even more.

"Here," she takes a napkin and wipes at his cheek, "Now we're even."

The whole group gets to talking over by the couches, while Flynn chats up the other boys, Julie and Luke are sequestered in their own corner, and yes, eventually the topic switches to music.

"Wait, so you know Rose and the Petal Pushers?" Luke chokes out, "Like everyone I talk to hasn't heard of them!"

"Yup. Have their record actually" Julie beams proudly, censoring out the part that its her mom's band and hence she has one of the few records ever released.

Luke is floored by that and continues to poke her brain for music and Julie finds that their spiels go on naturally, that she could probably talk with Luke for hours and hours.

Which ends up happening. Flynn had already made her escape, having texted her to come home safely, the boys had gone too, leaving them in the nearly empty lot.

When the food truck closes down for the night, they end up taking a stroll down the streets of L.A, talking and getting to know each other.

Julie learns so much about Luke, things she's never heard about from the press- like his songwriting practice, that he cries at Finding Nemo, and that he can do a cartwheel only when drunk.

And in return Julie shares with him her crazy college stories, how she misses her mom sometimes, and that she is encyclopedia of commercial jingles (a fact Luke exploits by rapidly quizzing her at random moments)

Somehow they end up near the beach, with Julie pointing out the different stars she could see, but finds that Luke isn't looking at the sky.

"Hey, Julie..." He gets her attention, "I had a really good time tonight."

"Me too"

"So... would it be alright, if I kiss you?"

Julie's mouth parts, speechless. It happened. Holy shit it happened or... is happening. She has Luke exactly where she wants him.

She could only nod and Luke takes it as the sign to lean in, but just as his lips is about to brush against hers, she freaks-

"Wait" she steps back. Luke opens his mouth, "No. No more 'sorry's from you. This one's one me. I'm sorry but... this- this" She sighs, "I have to be honest with you."

Then she tells Luke everything- Nick, The Hall Pass, her plans for tonight- basically admitting to using him.

When she's done, she expects for Luke to get angry, to leave in a huff and never want to see her again.

That's not what happens.

"This Nick guy sounds like a piece of work" he says.

Julie nods slowly, "Yeah... I guess he was. So maybe that's why I did it. But I don't think I could have gone through with it. Like I don't think we're together, me and Nick but-"

"You wouldn't want to do what he did. Because you don't want to hurt people," Luke surmises, understanding, "And by doing that, that means you're a better person than he is."

"I guess"

"No Julie, you're a good person" Luke insists, "Man, I think that makes me like you even more."

Julie laughs, "God, if my high school self could see me now..."

"You were a big fan?"

"I'm not having this conversation right now with you,"

"Okay cuz now you got me curious-"

Julie swats his shoulder but it doesn't deter the guy from snickering.

On a more serious note though-

"I think..." Julie hums, "I think this means that I got some stuff to work through. Before I could start considering... this."

"I understand"

"But thank you... Luke. For tonight"

"It's been real, Julie,"Luke smiles and pulls her in for a half hug, "And you should keep the jacket. Looks better on you anyway."

****

Julie goes back to Flynn's that night and her bestie's still awake, wanting all the deets. But there's not much to tell. Nothing happened.

She shrugs off the jacket and resigns to the couch, not caring that her makeup is still on. She's about ready to pass out.

Her phone dings.

She pulls it out and sees two notifications.

luke_patterson is now following you

luke_patterson is requesting to message you.

Curious, she accepts the request.

'here if you want to talk, Tin Foil :P'

Julie rolls her eyes and collapses onto the couch, sleeping with a smile on her face.

She doesn't know it now, but the oncoming years would be filled with more messages back and forth, meetups with their friends for more shady street food, building a solid foundation of friendship and eventually, when Luke asks again if he could kiss her, Julie would eagerly prop herself on her toes to close the gap.

Yeah, Julie's high school self would definitely be screaming...

[sundaysundaes]

My Words, Your Thoughts (Teaser)

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Smut | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

Part of the beautiful ‘Aubade’ collaboration hosted by @hyucksie​

Synopsis: As an introvert, you are familiar with the silence. Drowning yourself deep in your thoughts has been a habit you’ve become addicted to. Your life begins to change, however, ever since the day you turned twenty. Suddenly, there’s this song that’s stuck in your head, and no matter how much you yearn to hear your thoughts or be comforted by the silence, it keeps on playing. You only get to find the answer to your problem when a young, cute barista hands you a cup of coffee one day, with that song’s lyrics written on the side. And you realize that you’re not the only one who’s been hearing voices in your head.

Warnings: explicit sex, expletives, mentions of physical abuse and astraphobia (not for the main characters)

WC (Teaser): 4k

Release Date: June 27, 2021, 10 AM KST

It’s weird. It’s so weird.

It’s weird that you’ve been hearing this song replaying over and over again in your head when you’re sure you’ve never listened to it before. It’s also weird because sometimes the song sounds like the ones you often hear about on the radio—complete with instrumental accompaniment and everything—but most of the time, it just sounds like someone is humming to it. Sometimes quietly, but more often than not, vehemently like they’re having a concert in the shower, not caring if the neighbors might hear.

As someone who rarely listens to mainstream music, you don’t keep up with the trend these days but the tunes are catchy enough that you think, maybe, it’s one of those Justin Bieber’s songs people always talk about. You’re not fond of it, though, so even if you’ve heard it somewhere in a cafe or a mall, there’s very little chance you’ll be humming it in your head.

And yet, it keeps on playing.

It gets worse when it goes on for a whole day—a whole fucking day—that your brain feels like it’s seconds away from bursting into pieces. It doesn’t even sound like your voice. It seems like it belongs to a male, a bit light and a pitch higher than most. Though it sounds pleasant, the voice is unfamiliar to your ears and that’s what bothers you the most. 

Trying your best to escape, you plug in your AirPods to your earholes, choosing one of the most beloved tracks from your playlist—today, it’s Bloom by The Paper Kites—to help you relax as you lie down on your bed. But no matter how many times you turn up the volume—it’s practically turning you deaf, ironically—you can still hear that one goddamn song playing.

“Oh my God,” you groan, projecting a murderous glare at the ceiling of your room before you shriek all of your heart’s content to your pillow. “Make it stop!”

This has been going on ever since your twentieth birthday and it’s been three months since then—three months of suffering, to be exact. Fortunately for you, you haven’t been listening to the same song for those amount of time—God, you would’ve killed yourself if that was the case. The song changes without warning. It can change ten times within a day, or stay the same for ten days. You have never heard of these songs except for the popular ones, and even then, you only ever listened to snippets as they don’t suit your taste. 

So… It doesn’t make sense that you could recite the whole lyrics, does it? 

And yet, you can. 

Somehow, you already know every word, every tune, even every ad-lib in these songs and it both amazes and creeps you out. It’s as if somebody else is singing about it in their mind, and you, somehow, are mentally connected to them.

But that’s surely not the case, right?

With more days passing by, as your brain deteriorates little by little, you start to think that maybe that is the case.

Or maybe you’re just going crazy.

It’s nine in the morning and your eyes are bleary from how you involuntarily skipped sleep last night. With the loudest sigh and your half-charged MacBook sitting still in your backpack, you let your wobbly legs carry you to the nearest coffee shop. There’s a new Starbucks store opening just a couple of blocks away from your apartment and it’s perfect since you’re going to pass it every day on your way to college. 

You’re not excited though, not when you have Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror playing in your head for the, approximately, thirty-fifth time that day. And it’s only nine in the fucking morning.

When you enter the coffee shop, greeted by a cute Christmas tree and festive decorations spreading all over the place even when it’s still three weeks away from the holiday, you almost weep in joy when the song stops playing in your head. It does happen from time-to-time, sometimes it stops for a few hours before it starts again with the same song or an entirely different one. But in most cases, it only pauses for a few minutes which just doubles the torture whenever you’re trying to concentrate on your paperwork.

“Hi.” You display a timid smile at a female barista, slightly wincing when the song in your head starts blaring again, as expected. It’s still the same song this time—so that thirty-sixth by now, Jesus Christ—but instead of someone humming it, it’s the original version that plays. You’re having trouble focusing on her greeting when the sound of a synthesizer echoes through your ear, stridently so. “I would like a tall skinny latte with a double shot, please.”

“Would you like anything else to accompany your drink?”

Perhaps a gun to blow my head off? “No, thanks. That’d be all for me.”

“Is that for here or to go?”

You take a quick scan of your surroundings. You still have an hour before your first class starts and since the place isn’t that crowded, you figure you might as well just spend some time here. “For here.”

You tell her your name and slide down your card to complete the payment. “All right. We will call your name once your order is ready.”

“Fantastic. Thanks.” As the female barista takes an order from another customer, you drag yourself to an empty seat in the corner of the room, next to the glassy window where you can glance at passersby. You lay your head down on the table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface, lower lip jutting out in weariness. You’re drowsy and you want to think about the snow that’s probably gonna fall sometimes near Christmas’ Day and maybe the sight of a warm fireplace where you can cozy up with your imaginary boyfriend (also known as Jung Jaehyun—that one perfect boy who lives just across of your hallway), but no, unfortunately for you, you no longer have any space left in your brain since Michael Jackson is performing a damn concert and it doesn’t seem like he’s gonna stop anytime soon.

“I’m starting with the man in the mirror…” Great, now you’re singing it. “I’m asking him to change his ways…”

The music in your head abruptly stops again but before you can close your eyes to finally enjoy your silence, a familiar voice chimes in.

“It’s a great song, isn’t it?”

Shocked, you quickly lift your head to identify a male barista placing down a cup of your ordered latte on your table. You swear you recognize his voice but his face doesn’t ring a bell.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I don’t usually bring orders directly to the table but I think I misheard your name so I couldn’t call you out from there.”

“That’s, umm, that’s okay…” You hide the bottom half of your face behind your scarf as you’re not used to talking to a stranger, especially one that looks overwhelmingly pretty. “What did you think my name was?”

“Umm…” He rubs the back of his nape awkwardly. “I don’t think you want to know. It was a bit… inappropriate.”

“R-right…” You glance at the cup. “It says ‘Michael.’”

He chuckles but with only a slight hint of amusement in it. “Yeah, sorry about that. I had to come up with something and it was the first thing that came to mind.”

“And it has…” Your eyes widen when you notice the words he’s written on the side of your cup. It’s not a greeting, it’s not a motivational sentence, it’s the fucking lyrics to Michael Jackson’s Man in The Mirror.

“Yeah, okay, so—” Noticing the appalled look on your face, he hurriedly tries to reason out. “I’ve had this song stuck in my head all day long—I just listened to it a minute ago while making your order—and the lyrics are just so inspirational so I decided to write that down. I hope that’s not too weird.” Then he laughs a little, a tad more genuinely this time. “But I heard you singing that song just now. What are the chances, right?”

You swallow hard. He’s been thinking about that song too? Listened to it a minute ago? What are the chances of this is happening? Is he the one whose voices I’ve been hearing in my head—

The male barista abruptly takes a step back, his tray nearly slipping out of his hold. He has a hand pressed against his ear, eyes blinking several times in disbelief. “Holy shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” He splutters, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I can’t believe it’s real.”

“What?” The way he seems like he’s looking at a ghost sends goosebumps all over your skin. “What is it?”

“Think about something.” 

“Umm—” What is he talking about?

This time he gapes, his jaw dropping low. “Holy shit, I can really hear you. Think about something else—think about me.”

“Look, I don’t know you and you’re being weird.” The sudden change of conversation baffles you but when his words sink in, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about him as he orders. He’s cute, his entire features are cute—you’ve noticed that from the first second you laid your eyes on him, but what catches your eyes the most is his lips—the way they’re shaped so beautifully, like a cupid’s bow—

“You’re thinking about my lips? Seriously?” He asks, but might as well splash cold water to your face. “If you said something about my eyes, sure, I mean, they are attractive. One might even say that God Himself took the stars from the sky and put them in my eyes—but my lips? Huh, that’s new.”

You loudly gasp when you’re finally aware of the situation, hands flying to your face to cover your gaping mouth. “You can hear my thoughts!”

“And you can hear mine too!” He points out, and as startled as you are from the previous realization, you instantly frown upon his words. 

“I don’t think so,” you reply. “I can only hear—”

“Donghyuck-ah!” Another barista comes to interrupt from the other side of the room. “We didn’t pay you to flirt, come back here!”

“I wasn’t flirting!” He shouts back, tips of his ears reddening. When he turns to you again, he has a prominent scowl on his face which makes you squirm on your feet. “We need to talk about this. My break is in an hour, do you think you can wait?”

It sounds more like an order than a request. “B-but I have a class in an hour.”

“Skip it.”

It takes all the strength in your body to be brave enough to retort back with, “Why don’t you skip your work?”

“I’m already half-done with my work, I can’t bail out now.” He rolls his eyes. Suddenly, his courteousness just vanishes without a trace. “Look, I’ve been hearing your thoughts for months now and I have a lot to complain to you about.”

You grimace. “It’s not like I can control my thoughts—”

“I know, I’m not blaming you.” He picks up the tray, his gaze softening but only slightly. “I just want to complain. You’ve been driving me crazy these past few months.”

You glance away, pouting. Wow, he surely knows how to befriend a stranger.

“I can hear you, you know.” He sighs as if talking to you is exhausting, when it should be the other way around. “Look, I’m sure you’ve been going through the same thing. Don’t you want this to stop?”

You’re not wasting any second. “Yes, please.”

“Then wait for me. We’ll talk this through.” He pivots on his heels, his tray glued to his side. When you can finally breathe properly, exhausted from the social interaction as you sink back to your seat, the barista—Donghyuck—adds, “Oh, as you wait. Can you please stop thinking about my lips? Or just how cute I am in general? It’s sweet but I gotta concentrate so I won’t write another Michael on my next order.”

You slam your forehead down the table, face aflame. “I-I’ll try.”

“Thanks.”

***

“You just can’t stop thinking about my lips, can you?” Is the first thing Donghyuck states out as soon as he’s approached your table. He runs a hand through his brown hair, which looks out-worldly fluffy that you begin to wonder what kind of hair product he’s been using. “Or my hair.”

Mortified, you mumble out, “I’m sorry,” with half of your face covered by your hands. The more I try not to think about his lips, the more I do—shit, is he hearing this too—

“Yes,” Donghyuck says, but this time with an amused smile. “Man, I didn’t know my lips were that appealing to ladies. You’re gonna make me blush.”

Well, he’s making you blush for sure. “Would it be too much to ask for you to stop listening to my thoughts?”

“Believe me, woman, I’ve tried.” He groans, taking his apron off before he sits in front of you. He loosens up his collar, unbuttoning two buttons of his white shirt—which is two more than necessary to your liking—and you have to gaze away before another thought forms inside your head about a certain part of his body. 

“Sorry if I came on too strong before. I’m Lee Donghyuck,” he introduces formally, offering you his hand. You reply with your name but you’re reluctant to shake his hand since you’re sure you’re breaking into a cold sweat, and an overly sweaty palm doesn’t really scream attractive—

“It’s literally just a handshake,” he says, stifling down a laugh. “I’m not gonna start judging you about it. You’re cute, sweaty palms or not.”

You nearly choke. “If I can’t ask you to stop listening to my thoughts, can you please be quiet about them?”

“That’s also impossible since talking is an integral part of my charm.” He leans back to his chair. “I’m pretty good with my mouth.”

That was… a poor choice of words, you think, as you stare at his lips and can’t help but wonder what can that mouth do other than talking. You take a bite of the bagel you just ordered, desperately trying to avert your attention.

“It wasn’t a poor choice of words.” He winks. “I did mean that in every way possible.”

This time, you really are choking.

“Okay, so what’s happening to us?” Donghyuck questions, after you manage to shed a tear or two during your attempt in relieving your throat. “Why have I been hearing your thoughts? I don’t even know you.”

“Same here.” You’re still going through a hard time keeping eye contact with him, but with more seconds passing by—and him pronouncing every bit of your thoughts out in the open—the knots inside your chest begin to loosen. “Ever since I turned twenty, I’ve been hearing these songs playing in my head that I’d never even heard of.”

“Never heard of?” Donghyuck snorts. “What, you never listen to Billboard’s top forty?”

You weakly shrug. “I prefer indie music better. Or instrumentals.”

“I would say that you have a soul of an old lady but the way you’ve been thinking about my lips reminds me of my sister who’s going through puberty.”

“Okay, this isn’t fair.” You shake your head, ashamed and tired of being humiliated over something you can’t fix. “Why can you hear my thoughts but I can’t hear yours?”

“Believe me, you’re much better off this way.” His face contorts in pain which makes you feel somewhat sorry if he’s not constantly being an ass about it. Hearing your insult, he notes, “Also, I’d prefer to be called with terms of endearment in the future, if that’s okay with you. Something like Babe or Darling.” The way he raises his eyebrow is just strictly illegal. “And in return, I’ll call you Sweetheart.” But before you can say anything—or run toward a running bus to put an end to this endless humiliation—he questions, “Wait, when you hear the songs I’ve been thinking in my head, does it sound like the original version of the song, or like me singing it?”

Finally, a proper conversation. “If you’re listening to the actual music, I can hear the original song as if I’m hearing it through my headphones. But when you’re just thinking about it, well, I‘ve never heard you sing, but,” you decide to tease him back—which startles you from how blatant you’re being. “From how amateur and pitchy this voice sounded in my head, I think I’ve been hearing yours.”

“Cute.” He scrunches up his nose. “Okay, let’s try again. Can you hear what song running through my head now?”

You stiffen, sitting in silence. After a few seconds pass by with only you exchanging stern stares at each other, your eyes gleam with a spark of hope. “Wait, I can’t hear you. Does this mean it stops? Because we’ve met in person?”

“Sadly no, because I was just thinking about how silly you looked when you choked over your food earlier.” He chuckles to himself and sends you another wink when you degrade him in your head. “Okay, let’s try again.”

“For real this time?”

“For real this time, Sweetheart.” He closes his eyes, holding back a smile when he catches how you flinch a little at his pet name for you. This time, you really do hear him humming inside your mind. “Don’t tell me by words,” he immediately adds, “Just think about them.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes too. I’ve heard this song somewhere.

“If you’ve never heard about this song, I will literally cry and apologize to the world on your behalf.”

Be quiet, please, I’m trying to concentrate.

“Worried that you’d be thinking about my lips again?”

You almost fall from your seat. Almost. Okay, you’re singing to… You knit your eyebrows together as you provide your best effort to remember the tunes. You’re singing to Super Mario Bros theme song?

“Correct.” He taps his fingers to the table, simpering. “This is actually pretty cool. We can be, like, partners in crime or something.”

You shudder. “Please don’t tell me you’re an actual criminal.”

“If looking this handsome is a crime then I am, yes. Guilty as charged.” He makes a kissy face when you think about throwing the rest of your bagel to his head. “You look like someone who writes fan-fiction about their idols having sappy first kisses in your spare time but you’re actually pretty wild in your head, aren’t you?” He loves seeing your reactions, you know that, so you give your all in trying to act nonchalant. “Now, let’s try again. Did you bring your headphones with you?”

You check your coat’s pocket. “I got my AirPods.”

“Perfect. Put them on and play something from your phone.” As someone who’s pretty carefree, he can get serious at times. “Play as loud as you can until you feel like you’re going deaf.”

“I’ve tried that many times.” You nearly wail at the memory. “But it’s hard to drown your voice since it comes from inside my head.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’ve been hearing your thoughts too, remember? Don’t you think I would at least try something like that?” You narrow your eyes menacingly at him but he simply waves you off. “Anyway, that’s not what I’m trying to do. Put them on and you’ll see.”

He’s ordering you around. He just met you and he’s ordering you around. Socializing with people in general already zaps your energy pretty quickly, so socializing with a brat—

“I’ll grow on you, don’t worry.” He smirks and you take a mental note to really learn how to control your thoughts this time.

You follow his lead, as requested, connecting your AirPods to your phone and play something relaxing—because God knows how desperately you need it—as loudly as you can bear. Okay, go try… whatever it is that you want to try.

He smiles and shifts slightly on his seat, facing the window. His eyes glimmer under the light when he parts his lips, mouthing some words—no, singing something that you can’t hear.

Wait. I can’t hear?

Donghyuck glances at you, a grin breaking further on his lips upon hearing your thought. He gestures to you to take your AirPods away and you nod. Vacation Manor’s You promptly fades as his voice enters, and it’s weird because you’ve heard him sing in your head so many times yet it doesn’t do justice to how beautiful he sounds in real life.

It’s almost angelic, the sound he makes, which is kind of ironic for a little devil that he is. His honeyed voice is soothing, almost like the patter of rain on your window at dawn, lulling you back to sleep. You’re no expert in music but to you, he sounds impeccable that you run out of words to describe how pleasant his voice is to your ears. It’s so distinct, soulful—

Donghyuck giggles. “Thanks.”

—and annoying. “Okay, so what happened?” You try to divert the topic. “I can’t hear you when you’re singing out loud, but I can hear it when you’re thinking about a song?”

“I guess so.” He furrows his eyebrows, deep within his thoughts. “I figured it out when I couldn’t hear your thoughts whenever you spoke out loud. I think we can work from this?”

“So instead of thinking about what I have to say, I should focus more on saying what I want to say?” You shake in horror. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What, you don’t like talking?”

“I’m…” You swallow your breath. “I’m not really good at that.”

“You’re talking to me just fine now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, because you make it so easy.”

“Aaw,” he purrs, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Thanks, Sweetheart.”

“No.” You hold up a hand. “I mean, since you can hear my thoughts, I have no other choice but to speak. Also, you seem like you’re the type who just says whatever that comes to mind without worrying too much about my feelings—”

“Hey, now you’re just making me sound rude—”

“You are rude,” You emphasize. “But it works well with me because then I don’t have to hold myself back and pretend to be somebody else.”

“Why do you have to pretend?” He frowns. “Because you’re afraid people are gonna hate you? Judge you on your words?”

“It’s…” You look away, nibbling on your bottom lip. “I just… I’m trying to be a good person so people will like me—”

“I like you,” he says casually as if he was talking about having a cute Pomeranian as a pet, and there you are, almost fainting in your seat. “I mean, in the last forty minutes I’ve known you, I think you’re great the way you are. You don’t have to be good, you just have to be you.” He shifts closer, crossing his arms on the table, and lays his chin on them, gazing up at you with a soft smile that doesn’t match well with his previous attitude. “Don’t you think it’s great if people accept you the way you are?”

You hurriedly take a sip of your coffee, pretending to swallow even if it’s already empty. “You’re… not so bad yourself.”

“What was that?”

“Okay, well I think I should go.” There’s no way you’re gonna repeat that. Donghyuck titters, taking a hold of your wrist when you’re about to stand up from your seat.

“We still have loads to talk about.” You observe the way his fingers linger around your arm, his sun-kissed skin feels silky smooth against your own. “Why don’t we have lunch together? My treat?”

“D-don’t you have work to do?”

“I’ll make an excuse.” 

A barista with the word Jeno written on his name tag walks by and slaps Donghyuck on the back of his head as if it’s something he’s done on a daily basis—probably is. “You’re not going anywhere, asswipe, get back to work.”

When the brunette boy turns to you, he winces. “Or maybe you can give me your number so we can meet up later?”

***

A/N: I’m both nervous and excited for this as this is my first collaboration. Thank you so much, Denise, for having me on this wonderful collab!