#some social interactions were either very hit or a bit miss

[ghosts-of-love]

went to a party/gig/fundraiser last night and got given a pair of matching leather cuffs with spikes on by local cryptid/new friend AND made friends with The Cutest And Softest Dog!!!!!

[alias-sam]

Pierced by a Golden Soul

Chapter 27. Unexpected Accomplice

Platonic Jojo's x Reader

Summary: Fate is a bizarre concept with countless more bizarre implications. In life sometimes such extraordinary events happen that the only reasoning left must be fate. The tragedies that constantly befall the Joestar bloodline for example may be the unluckiest series of cards drawn in human history, or perhaps the work of a greater power. There is no way to tell for sure. Had Dio Brando or Jonathan Joestar moved slightly on a divergent path the world itself would be left very different. The fate or luck of the noble Joestar bloodline has led to destruction of evil likes of the Pillar Men and DIO. This story is of a similar caliber to that of the other Joestars (as I am sure you are familiar with them). This is a story of lost souls, compassion, hope, and above all fate.

Word Count: 2,533

(Crosspost from Wattpad, full fic is already posted there.)

Tuesday morning, you waited outside the bakery for either Jaya or Vita. Even with being ordered to stay away by her father, you wanted to talk to Jaya about the enemy stand users. As for Vita, you just needed to confirm a time to meet up and work on the damn biology project.

A good fifteen minutes passed, and neither of them walked by. You figured you'd either missed them, or they both decided to stay home.

For Jaya it made sense. Quiet Riot sent her barreling across a hospital room yesterday. You had no idea if she had lied to you at the hospital about being unhurt. Vita was known for being absent, so you wouldn't be surprised if he did stay home today. You'd heard he had a medical condition, so who knew when you'd see him next. Vita gave you his phone number not long ago, so maybe you could call him? That was something you could focus on later though.

For the first time in awhile, you walked alone to school. It was kind of surreal. It felt like you had changed somehow recently. Instead of dreading social interaction, you were excited to meet up with your- You stopped yourself mid thought.

Friends. After all this time, you actually had friends. If you were being honest with yourself, you were lonely before. You'd stay to the side and watch people interact at school and the bakery. Days would pass where you didn't even talk without Senora Jones addressing you. Maybe it was partially your fault for not branching out more, but the only people who ever did show an interest in you, were...fangirls.

You would never come to understand what odd gravity you had that attracted people's affection so much. A gravity that left your classmates tripping over one another to greet you in the morning. A gravity that made complete strangers, for whatever reason, want to hit on you.

You had been asked out by so many people in the past year, you had completely lost count. It would be comical if not for the fact you were the one who had to see the disappointment in people's eyes when you told them no. At first you tried to be gentile when rejecting people, but at one point or another you started flat out telling people to leave you alone.

Less and less people had been following you around the courtyard as of late. You were willing to bet it had something to do with that rumor Vita told you about. The one about you dating someone. When you first heard about it, you were busy worrying about Learco and Tim to really focus on it. Now you were wondering if you were a bit to flippant. What was the girl's name though? Vita had mentioned it, but you were drawing a blank. Lea? No, Layla? The name was rattling around in your brain somewhere, but for some reason, you just couldn't grasp it.

You took a deep breath as you neared the school gates. There would be no stand users, no weird encounters, and most of all, no bumping into anyone. It had become a trend that you were desperately hoping to curb. You entered the gate slowly, looking both ways before crossing the threshold. Across the courtyard, you spotted at least one of your project partners.

"Tim? Hey! Wait up!" You called, sprinting to catch up to him. Tim was carrying a different instrument case than usual, and a box under his arm. "Are those the water tests?"

"Some of them." Tim sighed. "I still want to take some from the fountain this afternoon."

"Want some help?" You asked, walking along with him.

"No-" Tim cut himself off to think for a moment. "Sure." He was still getting used to not distancing himself from people. You were doing your best to form a friendship, the least he could do is be receptive. "An extra set of hands would be great."

"Cool! I'll see you later then." You smiled and waved, heading to your own class.

You managed three steps through the courtyard on your own before immediately feeling someone crash into your chest. A few books and papers fell on the concrete with a light thud. You looked down to find an unfamiliar head of blonde hair. After an extended moment of the stranger not moving, you grabbed their shoulders and lightly pushed them away from your chest. The girl looked up at you annoyed, before her eyes widened.

"Oh! Y/n! I am so sorry!" She gasped. "H-how are you doing today?" Her face was a bright red, the color even creeping up to her ears.

"Good umm..." You had seen this girl before; she was monitoring the gate when you snuck out yesterday. "Lana...?" You muttered awkwardly, taking a shot in the dark. Why couldn't you remember her name?!

"It's Lennia." She corrected nervously glancing down. "Lennia Heart. W-we're in the same literature class. I sit right next to you." You bent down and quickly grabbed the books she dropped, managing to skim the title.

"The Count of Monte Cristo? Don't think I've read that one." You commented, handing her the book. "Is it any good?"

"Y-yeah." Lennia replied lightly. You noticed she was blinking a lot as she looked up at you. "I think it's pretty good."

"Are you okay? Your face is really red." You looked at the girl with concern. Was she hot? Sick maybe?

"Y-yeah! I'm great!" She sputtered quickly, her face somehow becoming an even darker crimson.

"Are you sure?" You asked with a skeptically raised eyebrow. "You're blinking a lot too, is there something in your eyes?"

"What? No. I'm fine!" Lennia backed up slightly. "Don't worry about me, you would usually be in class by now right?"

"Yeah actually, I usually would."

"Well....bye!" Lennia said hurriedly before continuing on in the direction she was before. You watched her go, more than a bit confused by the encounter.

.................................................................................

Your classes were barely worth attending today. Blake, as expected, didn't show up. Vita wasn't in school either, but his absence made you worried about his health. Tim left you to your own devices since your designated section of the project had nothing to do with his. When your literature class came around, you checked and found Lennia was indeed your seat neighbor. You gave her a sheepish greeting after noticing her intensely staring at you.

When school finally ended you went to meet up with Tim in the music club room. Since he was the club's president, and sole member, you assumed Tim wouldn't mind you popping in instead of meeting him at the courtyard. An unfamiliar melody spilled out past the door into the hallway as you neared the music club. It was a rock riff if you weren't mistaken. That...surprised you a little bit. As far as you knew, Tim more preferred quieter classic pieces. The door was already cracked, so you lightly nudged it aside to let yourself in. Much to your surprise, Tim was sitting on a stool, electric guitar in hand, and absolutely shredding on it. You watched as his fingers quickly danced across the fret bord in rapid succession. It sounded incredible. When Tim noticed your presence, he immediately stopped, the sound of his last note still reverberating through the room.

"Y/n." He greeted dryly. "Sorry I didn't hear you come in." Tim turned off his amp and fumbled with getting the guitar strap off.

"You sounded great." You lightly clapped. "Is that a new guitar? You usually carry around an acoustic one."

"N-no, it's my dad's." Tim carefully put the guitar in its case. "He's letting me borrow it for a little while."

"Well, you sounded like an expert with it." You walked into the room, gazing at the many instruments spread around. "Say, how many of these things can you play?" You asked, lightly tapping one of the keys on the piano. Tim took a quick glance around the room before returning his focus to packing.

"Just about everything in here." He mumbled. "I'm not the best with wind instruments, but I think you can guess at this point, I'm a big fan of strings. I picked up piano at the beginning of this school year when that was donated to the club." Tim motioned towards the upright piano. "As for percussion, I don't prefer playing it myself, but I appreciate those who can."

"Ever think about advertising your club more? I feel like at least a few other people would be open to joining."

"I d-don't think so." Tim muttered. "I'm not really the advertising type." You watched as Tim pushed up his glasses and closed his guitar case. Somehow you got the sense that he didn't want new people to come, and to a degree you understood. The whole 'opening up' thing was going to take time for him. Tim slung his instrument over his shoulder. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah." You quickly grabbed the box with the water tests from Tim and walked with him out to the fountain. "Maybe I could join your club." You mentioned, but Tim visibly tensed. "Oh- I was just spit balling." You nervously laughed, immediately deciding to backpedal "I don't even know how to play anything."

"No! I wasn't expecting you to be interested, especially given the...stand situation." Tim shrugged.

"Honestly? I'm in dire need of a hobby." You groaned, shaking your head as you took a seat on the edge of the fountain. Quietly, you stared at the water while Tim took the tests. Whenever he finished filling a vial, he'd hand it over to you. He was silent as he intently added chemical disks and watched for a color change. Tim had opened up to you since your encounter at the football field, but even after the battle he was still an all-business type personality. Once he started working on something, he didn't like to stop. Even in the few times you interacted with him before this, you got that vibe from him. Tim continued working with the samples as you mindlessly watched your reflection ripple in the water.

"What's on your mind Y/n?" Tim asked out of the blue.

"Huh?" You looked over only to find he was adding another test tablet to a water sample. "Nothing... why do you ask?"

"You're really bad at hiding it when something is bothering you."

"Oh..." You trailed off, fumbling with the test tubes in your hand. "I'm that obvious?"

"Not really. I just happened to notice." Tim replied. "What's up?"

"I was kind of wondering, how did you...figure out your stand so quickly?"

"What do you mean?" Tim asked, capping off another test tube and setting it aside.

"Well, you got your stand, and just knew what to do with it the same night?"

"It took a little bit of trial and error, along with some focus, but yeah, it wasn't that hard." Your posture slumped slightly.

"I was worried you were going to say that." You sighed, burying your face in your hands before tiredly looking into the water again. Tim motioned for you to continue. "I've had my stand for as long as I remember." You admitted. "And yet, I can't seem to... figure it out."

"How so?"

"Uh-" you looked at Tim hesitantly. "Can I admit something? Something I haven't told anybody about?" Tim glanced around the courtyard hesitantly, before nodding. He took a seat next to you on the fountain.

"Sure."

"Last week, when all this nonsense started, I stopped this guy from mugging someone outside my house. My stand punched his, and nothing happened, but when I punched the mugger...." You paused, not knowing how to properly word what happened next. "He's in the hospital right now, and I don't think I hit him that hard, but maybe I did? Anyway, when I hit the guy, something odd happened. His body, it's in a coma, but his uh...ghost followed me around for a bit. I don't know how to describe it. Nobody else could see or hear him. And I haven't the slightest clue how to fix it, or if it even can be fixed. Mr. Kujo had me meet this guy with a stand that was supposed to help, but it only left me with more questions."

"Help?" Tim asked. "What kind of help?" Hesitantly, you took out the spirit photo and handed it to him.

"Originally Learco's spirit was sitting next to me in the photo, nobody else could see it, and yesterday it just disappeared. I have no idea what's going on..."

"Learco?" Tim looked at you questioningly. "As in, Learco Martez?"

"You know him? Wait- yeah, if I'm remembering correctly, he said he used to bully you."

"He's the one who started some rumors about what I kept in my music notebook. It spiraled to the point the teachers got involved. After the whole ordeal, my reputation was basically irrecoverable." Tim's tone wasn't nearly as irritated as you'd expected it to be. "Needless to say, I've got a bone to pick with the guy, so I know for certain," He paused, looking at you intently, "That I saw him walking into school this morning."

"What?" You froze, looking at Tim for any hint that this was a very poorly timed joke. "A-are you sure?"

"Definitely." Tim nodded. "At least now you know your stand didn't kill him." He quipped, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere around you.

"Do you know where I can find him?" You quickly shot up from the fountain to stand in front of your classmate. "To talk with him?"

"You want to go talk...with Learco Martez? Why? What makes you think he'll even give you the time of day?"

"I need to know why he woke up." You said quickly. "While he was a ghost, I got to know him. Yeah, he's an annoying, selfish, hotheaded prick, but he at least tried to help me where he could." You explained. "I know none of this makes any sense, but please? I can use all the help I can get in figuring this out." Tim crossed his arms, obviously reluctant.

"I don't know..." He looked away, avoiding your pleading expression.

"He might be able to help me figure out who stabbed you, and why." You said sternly. Tim sighed, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"He spends a lot of his time near the back end of the school." He said. You nodded and turned in that direction, but Tim grabbed your wrist before you could run off. He had a determined look in his eyes. "Let me come with you."

"What?"

"You said so yourself, you don't understand your own stand. Consider me your protection, or at the very least, backup?"

"I can't ask you to do that." You shook your head, stepping away from Tim. "Its probably going to be dangerous."

"I may not have as much experience as you do, but I still want to help. I want to know who stabbed me, and why. From what you've told me, Learco has a connection to all of this. I'll help you out, no matter what, I owe you that much at least." You were about to object to the idea but stopped after seeing the steadfast and serious look in Tim's eyes.

"I'm not going to convince you to stay here, am I?"

"Nope."

[buriedsecretspodcast]

Embarking on a quest to write more

I'll start with the tl;dr: I want to try to write more often. Specifically, I'd like to aim for "near-daily" blog posts, with a goal of publishing something approximately five days per week and accompanying it with a piece of art. I almost certainly won't hit that goal, but it feels like a good number to aim for.

Why?

I recently dropped an episode about a book that I really liked called Consorting with Spirits by Jason Miller. In the book, Miller talks about how when interacting with the paranormal, it's important to prepare less and risk more. In the episode, I talk about how I recognize that I need to take that advice to heart. When interacting with the paranormal, I often doubt myself and try to talk myself out of what I actually experienced.

And I do that even in the moment, while the strange thing is happening, which Miller explains is the exact moment when you should not be doubting yourself. (He basically says you can doubt yourself anytime afterwards, when you're analyzing what you've been told her what you've encountered. But if you do it in the moment, it shuts down that part of your brain that helps to process the unusual and paranormal and psychical.)

As I was working on editing the episode, I realized that the maxim prepare less, risk more applies to me more than I would like it to, and more than in just my paranormal experiences. I have very strong perfectionist tendencies, and I'm the sort of person who creates large amounts of art and then just never shares it with anybody.

Here are a couple examples:

Starting last May, I decided that I was going to do a drawing every single day. A YouTuber I like, struthless, talked about a challenge that he undertook where he drew the same thing every day for a year because that sort of repetition forces you to be more creative in your artistic approach. I chose ravens and crows as my subject matter. And while, of course, I missed a few days, I did, for about eight months, draw a raven pretty much every day. I didn't quite make it to a year, because while I love birds and love ravens and crows in particular, I did get to a point where there were tons of other things I wanted to draw and I felt like the creativity challenge was stifling me rather than helping me. (Though it did help built a daily drawing habit!) However, despite having drawn hundreds of ravens, I've shared maybe five of them? Probably fewer. Why? It's not like ravens are particularly off topic or outside of my niche, because ravens have a creepy vibe and one literally appears on the podcast logo. But I just usually choose not to share them just... because.

I create episode art for every episode, and yet I very rarely share that art on social media. The drawings appear on my website and on the specific podcast episodes—for podcatchers that support episode specific art—but I could be using them as social media assets and I just . . . don't.

I could go on, talking about how many first drafts of novels I've written but not edited to publishable form, or how many episode scripts and notes for episodes that I have not recorded yet, either because I felt like they weren't quite good enough, or I needed to do a little bit more research and put some finishing touches on them before I could let them go out into the world. But I think you get the point. I don't think that all art needs to be shared, but I also know I'm holding myself back by sharing so little of what I do.

Things that have helped

Often, when being less charitable about my own shortcomings, I feel that I am too flighty and get bored with new projects. (I think that's a feeling that many neurodivergent people grapple with.) I'm proud of the fact that this podcast has been running for almost three years now. It has become a data point that I use to convince myself that I can focus on things, I can create finished products and share them with the world, and I don't lose interest in projects.

The podcast has helped me fight some of my more perfectionist qualities. My audio quality can only be so good; I live in a noisy area and I have to deal with noisy radiators that like to kick up anytime I happen to be recording an episode during the chilly months. Because I am on a consistent schedule, I have to keep putting out podcasts, whether or not the script feels completely good to me (and by good, of course I mean perfect, and nothing can clear that bar).

But I'm able to tell myself that a podcast is not an indelible object that is expected to be perfect or close to perfect. It's casual and conversational. As a medium, it's not known for being particularly polished. That allows me to let go of some of my perfectionism around podcasting.

(Of course, that doesn't stop me from fixating on moments when I misspeak or on those pauses when my brain clearly buffers in the recording--I trim those down, but I can still hear them. Also, there are definitely episodes that make me cringe, but so far I've managed to keep myself from going back into the file and recording updates and qualifications.)

Show your work

Austin Kleon, an artist and writer who focuses on creativity, has a book called Show Your Work. The book is exactly what it sounds like, and it's geared toward artists who hate self-promotion. If you want to be an artist or a creative of some kind, there's no point in creating art in isolation. You have to show people the work that you're creating.

In the book, he talks about how his own blog has been so important to his development as an artist and has led to so many connections, opportunities, and friendships. He talks about how it's important to have a body of work online, even if it isn't 100% polished. It's okay to put out things that are in progress and rough. People are interested in the creative process and the thoughts that people have while they are creating things, not just the finished product.

Despite having read this book multiple times, I still have trouble showing my work. I have my podcast, but I tend to just... not promote it, at times. The same goes for my artwork. Even though I finish a drawing almost every day, I rarely share that artwork with others except maybe—sometimes—my wife. When I started the podcast, I decided to do episode-specific art to literally force myself to share some of my work publicly.

Digital commonplace books

One of my favorite thinkers, science fiction author Cory Doctorow, is someone who, like Kleon, blogs frequently. Doctorow writes a blog post pretty much every weekday. I recently read an essay that he wrote, where he compared his tendency to write daily blog posts with old commonplace books, which people would use to record their thoughts and information that they wanted to remember.

He said his blog was a sort of digital commonplace book, which contains his thoughts on different topics as they were evolving and as he was developing them. Over time, it becomes a source of inspiration and research for him to dive back in and find tidbits that he might need in the future.

To quote from his essay:

Peter “peterme” Merholz coined the term “blog” as a playful contraction of “web-log” — like a ship’s log in which hardy adventurers upon the chaotic virtual seas could record their journeys. Though “blogs” have always been a broad church, there’s a kind of platonic ideal of a blog that’s right there in the term’s etymology: the blog as an annotated browser-history, like the traveler’s diaries my family kept on vacations, recording which hotels we stayed in and what they were like, where we dined and what we ate, which local attractions we visited and how we felt about them. Like those family trip-logs, a web-log serves as more than an aide-memoire, a record that can be consulted at a later date. The very act of recording your actions and impressions is itself powerfully mnemonic, fixing the moment more durably in your memory so that it’s easier to recall in future, even if you never consult your notes. The genius of the blog was not in the note-taking, it was in the publishing. The act of making your log-file public requires a rigor that keeping personal notes does not. Writing for a notional audience — particularly an audience of strangers — demands a comprehensive account that I rarely muster when I’m taking notes for myself. I am much better at kidding myself my ability to interpret my notes at a later date than I am at convincing myself that anyone else will be able to make heads or tails of them.

Zettlekasten

The essay is excellent, and you should just read that, but I love this idea of thinking about daily blogging as a sort of repository of ideas or digital commonplace book. I am a enthusiastic user of the zettelkasten method of taking notes, which has a fairly similar vibe.

I'll have to write about zettlekasten another time, because it's something I am passionate about. In the six months that I've been using it, the method has helped me so much with my research and with synthesizing and developing my own ideas. I'm a real PKM (personal knowledge management) nerd, no surprise there.

But to be brief: The zettlekasten method involves taking in information from books and articles and other sources, and then putting it into your own words and synthesizing your own ideas around them—and putting all of that into an atomized, interconnected notetaking system. That aspect of a zettelkasten system has a lot in common with the idea of blogging daily, and I think that these two ideas mesh nicely.  

Sharing

I'm also very inspired by the artist Todd Purse, who posts a daily drawing and accompanying podcast episode. His work is so lovely and always puts a smile on my face, and I admire his talent, dedication, and positivity.

I know that sharing more and would be helpful for me in my paranormal research. I also have plenty of things to say about some subjects that aren't ready for their own episode, and I can only assume that spreading information within the community would be helpful.

It's not that I think my ideas are so groundbreaking, but I consume a lot of information. I don't like my tendency to hoard what I've learned just because I think my presentation of the knowledge isn't good enough. Kleon includes an Annie Dillon quote in his book that really stuck with me: "The impulse to keep to yourself what you have learned is not only shameful, it is destructive. Anything you do not give freely and abundantly becomes lost to you. You open your safe and find ashes."

Also, hopefully, by putting these things in blog posts, I will allow myself to be a little bit less strict about how good—or perfect—something needs to be.

Just like the necessity of publishing my podcast helps me be less of a perfectionist, I hope that this will help me put my thoughts into writing and share my art, which I plan to post alongside my blog posts, and not hold back so much.

I really want to try to embody the idea of preparing less and risking more. And I think this is a great way for me to do that. I almost certainly won't be blogging everyday, or even five days a week, but even aiming for the goal of blogging five days a week should help me create a lot of new and interesting stuff. So this is the beginning of my quest to try to prepare less, risk more, and share more with my community. And if you recognize any of these tendencies in yourself, I can only encourage you to find a way to share your work, as well.

Note: I'll be cross posting these essays on Medium and in my newsletter, so you can read them or sign up to receive them either place, if that's easier for ya. This post originally went live on 03/13/23.

[kurosukii]

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

summary: there’s no one you hate more on this earth than your school’s cocky volleyball captain, and being paired with him for a class project just honestly takes the cake. 

genre: college au, enemies to enemies fucking au.

warnings: 18+. hate sex (oiks is a meanie here but so are you, kinda), slight size kink, against the wall sex, facetiming (noncon to dubcon), exhibitionism (noncon to dubcon), voyeurism (noncon to dubcon), dacryphilia, ass play, multiple orgasms (oiks has mad stamina), degradation, slight praise, face-fucking, oral (m receiving), tit-fucking, unprotected sex, overstimulation, squirting, spanking, dirty talk, humiliation, dumbification, spitting, cumplay, creampie, hair pulling, pet names (bunny), implied seijoh four x reader

word count: 6.9k

author’s note: not much to say about this other than i’m a SEIJOH FOUR WHORE!!!! (let me know if i missed any warnings) (MINORS DNI)

[2:11 PM]

you honestly think the world hates you.

you tried your hardest to stifle your groan and not slam your head on the desk when the professor called out your name with your self-proclaimed “enemy”, oikawa tooru, for the project that was worth forty percent of your grade this semester.

when class ended, you marched ‘respectfully’ to your professor to negotiate if you can work on this project alone, but even before a word even slipped out of your mouth, your professor raised their eyebrow at you, sensing what you were going to say and just said “just deal with it” and “stop acting like a high school student”.

well, that was an ice cold bucket of reality that was just poured on you.

you were definitely acting like a high school student, and the cause of your behavior was none other than one of your school’s most obnoxious athletes, oikawa tooru.

seriously, there was just something about him that irked you so much. maybe it’s an accumulation of all his actions, his smugness, and the way he turns his nose on everyone, but all the girls and guys seemed to keep running back to him. everyone saw him as the ‘perfect king’, but you knew better. at least, you seemed to think so.

sometimes, you’d feel embarrassed at the way you were feeling and acting. you were raised to be a respectful person with good manners and conduct, so every time you get the pep talk from the imaginary angel on your shoulder, you’d try your best to be amicable with oikawa for every interaction since you shared multiple classes with him. but every time you did so, oikawa would end up doing something that broke your resolve and you were back to square one again. it seemed like the guy got off to annoying the shit out of you and making your day terrible.

with the professor long gone from the lecture room, you were left alone with your thoughts, up until you heard someone click their tongue. you shook your head as you turned to the source of the sound.

“aw, do you not want to be paired with me that badly? i’m not that bad! i’m going to help you do the work if that’s what you’re so worried about, sweetheart,” oikawa taunted in that lilting voice of his, with brown eyes glinting in mischief as he tossed his hair back.

“fuck off, tooru. just don’t slack off on this project or i’ll kick your ass,” you threatened him, anger slowly rising. he laughed at you, mirth making his eyes disappear. your lips thinned to a line as your anger increased.

you called him by his first name, not bothering with the respect (if he even deserved that) that came with addressing someone with their family name since you ‘hated’ his guts anyway, but somewhere deep down, you called him tooru because you like the way it sounded.

you liked the way it fell from your lips with a sigh whenever you touched yourself in the privacy of your room. the post nut clarity always hits you hard after orgasming with his face in your mind. maybe that’s why you pretended to hate him so much, because you were really just like the other girls. you were just as enamored by him as the other fangirls were, only they embraced it while you still denied it. nevertheless, the hornier you felt for him, the easier it was to channel that into anger and exasperation against him.

meanwhile, you didn’t notice it, as you were too busy in your own bubble, but his eyes darkened when he heard his given name slip from your lips. he’s more accepting of his desire for you, fucking his fist nearly every night with the thought of you underneath him, begging him to fuck that naughty pussy of yours to oblivion.

oh he knew that you were just putting up a front, and he let you. he knew it in the way your stares would linger and change into something deeper—more carnal. you thought he wouldn’t notice.

but he did.

he notices everything about you just like how he notices every play on the court. he relishes in it, practically keeping a tally in his head, so when he finally gets to pound your cunt, he’d confront you about it, and there’s nothing you can do about but accept his cock and his words.

he shook his head from his dark, carnal thoughts and slowly walked towards you, shoulders tightening as he fought the urge to slam you down on the table and fuck your cunt and make you scream so loud that people will come running.

you stood your ground as you looked up at him, which is a feat because you were damn near shaking and the tightening coil in your lower stomach was not helping either.

damn you oikawa tooru, you growled in your head.

he leaned down towards you until your noses were almost touching, with his bubblegum breath fanning your face and chocolate eyes boring into your own. “don’t worry sweetheart, i’m not going to let you do this on your own. what kind of guy would i be if i let you slave over this without my help? tsk, that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me, now would it?” he says as he straightened his body, with attitude and face going back to his usual demeanor, different from the one before.

you sucked in a breath as he pulled away and he smirked at you. “see you later at 7pm, sweetheart. you know where my place is, don’t you?” he asked you absentmindedly, making your blood boil at the audacity of him expecting you knew where he lived, and you did, but that’s besides the point. he was just so fucking obnoxious.

you scoffed an affirmative at him which made his smirk grow wider. “count the hours until you get to see me again, darling. i know i will,” he winked salaciously as he turned his back on you, wiggling his fingers as a sign of goodbye. you didn’t bother to grace him with a respectful farewell. instead, you raised your middle finger at him that was accompanied by a glare.

he just laughed at you, “always so mad at me, sweetheart. maybe you need to remove some of that tension,” his gaze smoldered, eyes turning into molten brown.

you involuntarily gulped as he slowly looked you up and down. he made eye contact with you, eyes still dark, as he licked his lips. he looked like he was about to pounce on you and devour you. It took him every ounce of his focus and self-control before his lips curved into his i’m so perfect and you’re not smile and blew you a kiss as he finally walked off to his next class.

you bit your tongue to prevent yourself from screaming as you cursed oikawa in your head to hell and back. the nerve of this dickhead, you thought to yourself. you grumbled more to yourself as you hiked your bag over your shoulder and walked out of the lecture room. you were done for the day and despite what oikawa thinks, you weren’t going to count the hours until you get to be in his apartment with him. alone.

but then again, all you did was lie to yourself wherever he was concerned, because you definitely didn’t twiddle your thumbs for five hours, took a shower and shaved, basically pampered yourself to look good and decent for him. no, you definitely didn’t do any of that for him.

if you were paired with another person, you would have definitely arrived ten minutes before the set time, but because it was oikawa, you took your sweet time going to his apartment, annoyance brewing. what was so wrong with living on campus? you asked yourself along the way, which made you even more annoyed because he didn’t even offer to pick you up at the train station. not that he needed to, but the courtesy would’ve been nice and it would’ve made you see him differently, but he didn’t do any of that so you’re stuck stomping your way to his apartment building.

“are you sure about this, oikawa? makki and i don’t mind having front row seats to this shit,” mattsun smirked, arms resting on the back of the couch in the spacious apartment. oikawa invited them to hang out after practice because he said he had a “surprise” for them.

“don’t know about the other one there, though,” mattsun nodded to iwaizumi who was brooding by the floor to ceiling window, arms crossed as he raised his eyebrow at mattsun. “maybe he wants in on it,” makki piped which made all three of them laugh at iwaizumi while he just told all of them to fuck off. he didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to see you put in your place as well.

he wouldn’t have given a fuck about your petty and sexual tension-filled issues with his captain, but you also gave him grief whenever he was with oikawa and what better way than to witness, and probably have a hand in, seeing you begging and whining for your cunt to be filled with cum?  

“don’t worry guys, you’ll definitely have your turns,” oikawa’s eyes glinted as he smirked at his friends. “looks like little bunny is running late,” he checked his wall clock and tutted to himself.

sheesh, guess the king really does live lavishly, you grumbled to yourself as you stared at the intimidating complex. most college students are broke, live in school sponsored dormitories, and survive on store bought ramen, but oikawa obviously isn’t like most college students. you shook your head at the clear social divide and pushed through the spinning doors, the cool air of the lobby blowing into your face as you shivered from the temperature.

you walked up to the receptionist’s desk–of course there’s a receptionist–and you asked her what floor and room number oikawa’s apartment was. you just about thanked her when your phone pinged so you took it out and checked the message.

“you’re running late, little bunny. might have to punish you for this.”

your legs squirmed as you felt your panties dampen at oikawa’s text. your clothes seemed hotter now and you pulled at your collar. you cleared your throat and nodded to the receptionist as you walked to the elevator.

before you knew it, you found yourself before oikawa’s door. you were about to knock but it opened, revealing his shirtless form. you gulped and couldn’t help but stare at his lithe body, with droplets of water slowly trickling down his abdomen and disappearing through the waistband of his sweatpants. you raised your eyes to meet his. he was smirking at you, his smug face satisfied with your perusal of him. he was drying his damp hair with a towel, and it made his biceps ripple. why does he have to be so goddamn obnoxious and hot.

“are you done staring at me bunny? as much as i love your gaze on my body, that’s not what you’re here for, unless…?” he taunted you, his body lazily leaning against the doorframe as his tongue slowly licked the bottom of his lip as he stared at you this time. you scoffed at him, and didn’t bother to wait for his invitation inside his apartment.

you lightly shoved him, careful not to make most of your skin touch, which was a feat since he was naked from the waist up. “you wish, tooru. stop being stupid and let’s get this done and over with,” you muttered in annoyance, standing in the middle of his living room with your arms crossed and quietly observing your surroundings. “and don’t call me bunny!” you snarled at him, eyes meeting his glowing brown ones.

“i’ll call you anything i want to, bunny, and seeing that you’re in my home, you don’t get to have the privilege to order me around here, understand?” he warned you, voice lowering by a few octaves. if you had a tail, it would’ve been tucked between your legs by now. you bit your tongue and nodded at him with your eyes lowered. he smiled devilishly at you and turned his still shirtless body in the direction of what you presumed to be his room.

“let’s do this in my room, bunny. i have everything we need there,” you followed him without a word, realising that you were indeed powerless here. you didn’t notice the smug smile he was sporting, however, because his muscular back was turned to you. each step to his bedroom was a step closer to what he and by extension, his friends, had in store for you.

you entered his room and you marveled at his king size bed that was covered in navy blue sheets. there was a tall shelf against the off white walls that was filled with a few alien and ufo figurines, trophies, and framed pictures of him and his team.

you turned to him to ask about what he wanted to do until you felt him loom over you. he looked at you like you were his prey and he was the predator, which was not a far cry because you really did feel like a bunny and he was the big bad wolf. his dark eyes seared into your body as you felt your heartbeat quicken.

in one blink, he had you on your back on the soft bed with your wrists pinned together with one big hand as he nuzzled his nose on your neck and inhaled. “you smell so good, bunny. did you clean yourself up for me?” he hummed and shamelessly snaked out his tongue to lick a stripe on your neck which made you squeal at the hot and wet muscle against your skin. “taste good too,” he chuckled, the vibrations and heat of his breath making your spine tingle and arousal grow.

his timing was impeccable, he pinned you down before you even had the chance to notice the phone propped on the table beside his bed, with a fancy desktop where a few books laid askew, and his friends staring intently from the small screen. mattsun opened his mouth and before he could break the tension, makki slapped his hand over it and quietly shushed him. iwaizumi was too transfixed at the situation before him to reprimand mattsun for almost interrupting.

“t-tooru! get off—” you weren’t able to finish your sentence before oikawa bit the skin of your neck to quiet you down. “you should be honest with yourself, you know? i know how you look at me,” he teased you, slowly kissing down your body through your shirt. 

“not so feisty now, hm? you’re so putty in my hands,” he rose to his knees on the bed and let go of your wrists. you raised your arm to slap him on the face but he caught it, he also grabbed your other arm and slightly squeezed them as a sign of warning. “there she is, my feisty little girl,” he smirked down at you. his brown hair glistening in the low light of his bedroom as his dark eyes glinted at you.

he transferred your other wrist to his one hand as he slowly untied the strings on his sweatpants. you didn’t miss the growing bulge in pants, cock hardening at what was about to happen. you swallowed the lump in your throat because after so many nights of fantasizing and imagining, you’re going to finally see what he would look like under all those clothes.

“you want my cock? of course you do, your eyes are practically dripping with greed,” he mocked you, his hand slowly lowering his pants until his naked cock sprang free and bounced on his abdomen. fuck, he wasn’t wearing any underwear. your pussy gushed at the thought of him lounging around his apartment with only a thin fabric separating his cock from exposure.

“got nothing to say, hm? i was hoping you’d run your mouth just so i could have the excuse of shutting you up with my cock,” he taunted, eyes studying your face as a smirk stretched his lips. “did seeing my cock shut you up? i do have a pretty cock, don’t i?” he questioned you rhetorically.

you hated it because he was right. his cock was as pretty as him and it was enough to swallow on the words rising from your throat. it wasn’t overly girthy but you knew that it would still cause damage just by watching it pulse and throb, with pre-cum leaking from its tip.

“i’m going to let go of your hands now, slutty bunny, and you’re going to suck my cock until i fill your throat and mouth with my hot cum,” he told you in a matter of fact tone, and you really wished your weak self would protest and shove him away and bolt from his apartment to disappear from the face of the earth, but you couldn’t deny this opportunity, couldn’t deny yourself anymore, and oikawa knew that. he’s playing you like a fiddle and you’re absolutely falling for it.

he let go of your hands and you immediately gripped his cock, the other one holding on to his muscled thigh for balance. you licked one long line on the underside of his shaft before going back to suck the pre-cum on his tip. he tightly closed his eyes as he groaned, putting one hand on the back of your head and felt his thigh tense at the stimulation brought by your tongue.

your lips curled into a smug smile at oikawa’s reaction. he noticed it and glared down at you, he was about to say something before you widened your mouth to fit his entire cock in one go. you slightly gagged when he hit the back of your throat. oikawa threw his head back as he let out a long and loud moan, cock twitching in the heat and wetness of your mouth.

determined to make oikawa lose his shit, you started bobbing your head as you licked and sucked on his throbbing cock, maintaining eye contact with him. his lips were parted as he stared down at your moving head, eyes smoldering and grip tightening. you watched as his chest heaved up and down, his breathing becoming heavier.

oikawa lightly shook his head to get rid of the haze your mouth put him in and squeezed the roots of your hair. you moaned in pain while you narrowed your eyes at him. just when you were about to give him a lashing, he cut you off.

“my cock may be in your mouth but this is not your time to shine, bunny. you do have a good mouth on you, but i’m here to fuck that mouth until you learn your place,” he growled at you, the vein in his temple pulsing as he tried to regain control.

you didn’t even have time to think before he pulled out and slammed his cock back inside your mouth, balls hitting your chin. you cried around his cock as your eyes immediately watered at the sudden force of his thrust. you squeezed his thighs as a sign for him to settle before he fucked your mouth like a fleshlight.

unfortunately, he only gave you a few moments to get used to his size before his hands bundled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and used them as leverage to fuck his cock in and out of your mouth. he groaned as he watched the tears from your eyes fall around your full cheeks as you moaned like a whore with his cock in your mouth.

“i bet you touch yourself to the thought of me, huh?” he taunted you, not stopping from his thrusts. you whined pathetically and felt slick from your cunt wet your panties. “fuck, you do. just how much of a slutty hypocrite are you? all you do is lie to yourself-shit, that’s good–and pretend to hate me when you’re just like everyone else,” he growled, thrusting deep until he hit the back of your throat, clearly frustrated with your actions. you were slobbering all over his cock, saliva and pre-cum staining your face with how fast he was thrusting, while it dripped on the sheets below you.

his groans grew louder and his thrusts became sloppier as he neared his orgasm. you so badly wanted to touch yourself but with the way you were positioned, you’d end up choking on oikawa’s cock if you removed your hands from his thighs. instead, you tried your best to ignore the growing ache in your pussy.

“swallow all my cum, you slutty whore,” he ordered you, voice straining as he delivered one final thrust inside of your mouth before you felt the warm spurts of his cum paint the insides of your mouth and throat. you moaned at the heat, your mouth so full of his cock and cum that you tapped his thigh to give you room to breathe. thankfully, he pulled out his cock with a pop as you inhaled loudly, throat raw from the fucking it experienced.

even if he didn’t tell you, you would’ve swallowed his cum to try and make a statement. he gripped your chin as he inspected your mouth, eyes flashing in satisfaction when he saw your mouth empty. “that’s a good fucking girl,” he said, thumb going inside of your mouth as he pushed on your tongue. you closed your eyes as you breathed heavily, hands hanging limply on your thighs.

oikawa seized the opportunity to swiftly look at his phone, smirking at his friends when he noticed them shifting uncomfortably. iwaizumi flipped him off and oikawa just winked at him.

he turned back to you with your eyes still closed, stealthily blocking your view of his phone as he pulled his thumb from your mouth and licked it. his cock was still hard, owing to the pent-up tension that you have been giving him ever since day one.

he shoved you so your back landed on the bed as he straddled your waist, kicking off the rest of his sweatpants and chucking them to the floor. you opened your eyes as you yelped at the sudden movement, wondering what the fuck he was going to do now.

“what are you do–” you questioned him, but before you could finish, he ripped your shirt into two pieces. your eyes widened in protest as your sports bra-clad chest was exposed to him. “i’m going to fuck these pretty tits, whore,” he said as he squeezed your breasts together and groped them, making your nipples harden into peaks.

you moaned at his touch, finally feeling some stimulation on your body after aching for so long. he lowered his head down to your chest and started sucking on your nipple through the fabric. you threw your head back on his pillow and whined, his hard cock grinding on your thigh at the sounds you were making. he sucked and licked until your back arched to him, silently begging for more.

he raised his head from your chest which made you whimper at the loss of warmth. he looked wild, like he was a man on a mission.

his large hands reached for your bra and stretched the fabric until your tits were exposed to the cool air of his room. you moaned at the feeling of being exposed to oikawa, he stared at your hardened nipples, watching as his cock twitched against his abdomen. you watched his adam’s apple bob until you saw his mouth open. he spit on the valley between your breasts, string connecting from his lips. you moaned at the obscenity of his actions, spit feeling cold and thick as it ran down your chest.

he groaned at the sight, one hand guiding his cock under your bra and inserting himself between your tits. once he settled in between them, he squeezed them together to create that tightness. it wasn’t enough but he’s been wanting to fuck your tits, and it’s finally happening now. he thrusted and groaned at the softness of your breasts squeezing his cock.

his cockhead hit your chin, making it wet with your saliva mixed with his cum. your body rocked along with his thrusts, hearing him grunt and moan as he squeezed and fucked your tits. you wanted to touch yourself, but he was holding you down so you couldn’t reach your pussy. his thrusts became faster and your breasts became wetter as he neared his second orgasm of the night.

you watched him and you became even more annoyed because even in the throes of passion, he was still so pretty. pink lips parted as he breathed loudly, brown eyes darkening the more he looked at you, and that drop of sweat from his neck going down his defined chest.

“g-gonna cum bunny, fuck,” he grunted loudly, head thrown back as his cock spilled his cum and landed on your chin, neck, and chest. he stopped moving and stared at his work in amazement. you glared at him, because although he looked divine when he came, you still hadn’t experienced any type of relief for the night.

“tooru, i’m starting to think you can’t make a girl cum,” you raised your eyebrow in defiance, looking at him boredly, arms supporting you as you lifted your body in a sitting position. “all you did was pleasure yourself. do you even know how to pleasure a girl?” you taunted him, displeasure clearly written over your face. he watched your expression and smirked to himself.

the nerve of this guy.

“oh bunny, i can definitely pleasure you and make you cum. several times, in fact,” he said, eyes tracing his finger as he spread his cum all over your chest. “i just had the foresight to let myself cum twice because if i went straight to fucking you, you’d pass out before i even got my fill of you,” he purred, cock twitching again.

“and i want you to be aware of everything i’m going to do to your body,” he ended his statement with a pinch to your nipple. you yelped at the sting and swatted his hand away. he let out a low laugh before he grabbed your hips and abruptly flipped you over to your stomach.

“let’s remove these pesky shorts, shall we?” he said as he slapped your ass hard. you squealed at the pain, almost forgetting that he’s a volleyball captain and you’ve seen how lethal his serves can be. but you know that he’s not putting all of his strength in that slap. he laughed at your reaction and slapped the other cheek of your ass before pulling your shorts down and throwing it to the floor, eyes subtly flicking to the table.

“pretty ass wearing pretty panties,” he whispered, his index finger tracing the white lace of your panties. your face flushed in embarrassment because you know he’s thinking that you wore those for him. you did, but you’re never going to admit that.

never in a million years.

“your reaction tells me all i need to know, bunny. you definitely wore these for me,” he growled, his large hand coming down to your ass again as you cried at the pain. he watched the plumpness of your ass jiggle before he landed a few more consecutive slaps on the skin.

satisfied with the redness of your ass and the whimpering that came out of your mouth, he tore your panties into two flimsy pieces. he slowly removed them from your pussy, your wetness clinging on to them and forming a string. “can’t wait to fuck this dirty pussy, bunny,” he groaned as he watched it, cock pulsing at the tip.

he didn’t even bother removing your cum stained bra before he pulled your hips up until you were on your knees. he pushed his hand on your lower back, forming a deep arch until you bared your wet pussy to him. leaving one hand on your hip, he guided his throbbing cock to your clenching pussy and ran his tip along your folds. both of you moaned at the stimulation, sensitivity running down your bodies. you gulped at how he was going to make himself fit.

he stopped at your clenching hole before he pushed the tip in, squeezing your hip as he groaned, feeling the tightness around his head. you were about to thrust yourself on his cock because he was taking his sweet time before he shoved himself, making the both of you cry out as he bottomed out in your pussy. he gave an experimental roll of his hips which made your pussy flutter around his cock. he moaned at the sensation, bracing both of his hands on your hips.

he pulled back out and thrusted harder this time, drawing out a moan from you at the force and fisted the sheets in your hands. he began snapping his hips against your ass as you moaned louder.

“look at how my cock’s splitting you,” he grunted, eyes trained at how his cock was disappearing in your cunt. “swallowing my cock like it’s nobody’s business. your fingers aren’t enough. no, you need my cock,” he hissed as he punctuated each word with a hard thrust. he slapped your ass every time he thrusted back in, the double stimulation making you moan like a whore.

his obsession with your ass didn’t stop there. he stopped spanking your ass and centered on the puckered ring that was slightly clenching. he tilted his head to the side and stared at it in wonder. he gathered the saliva in his mouth as he spat on it. you squealed at the new sensation, body rubbing against the bed as he brought his thumb to play with the tight ring, an area you never dared to touch.

“t-tooru, that’s dirty!” you cried out in indignation, trying to squirm away from his finger, but you couldn’t because his cock was drilling your pussy to the bed.

“so? it’s perfect for a fucking dirty girl like you,” he growled, thinking twice if he should insert his thumb in your asshole, but he decided not to. he figured you weren’t ready for that, yet.

he removed his finger from your asshole as he gripped your hips to fuck you even harder, clearly frustrated that he wasn’t able to plunge his thumb in your ass. you moaned at the harshness of his thrusts as he pushed on the back of your neck to the bed. you whined at the pressure, switching your head to the side as you focused on oikawa’s brutal thrusts. that was when you noticed a phone on the table, seeing three red faces peering at you.

“oh my god, are they watching us?!” your eyes widened as you cried out. oikawa looked to the side and chuckled. “took you long enough. they were starting to feel lonely because you weren’t noticing them–fuck, that’s a good pussy,” he hissed as he felt your cunt tighten around his cock.

“why don’t you scream for them as well, hm?” he said as he delivered a particularly hard thrust that made you moan loudly while looking at his friends. iwa, makki, and mattsun groaned at your reaction, shifting their pants as they stayed in their respective places in the next room.

“t-tooru, please turn off your phone!” you cried, tears streaming down your face as you felt shame, embarrassment, and surprisingly, arousal creeping up your sweaty body. were you getting turned on by his friends watching your pussy get fucked?

“fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry,” he groaned as he spanked your ass once more, thrusting harder as he felt your cunt squeeze the shit out of his cock, clearly enjoying the fact that you were getting excited about being watched.

“and besides, i don’t think you really want me to. i think you like getting fucked stupid for my friends to see,” oikawa taunted you, his hands squeezing the fat of your hips. he moved your bodies so you were facing his phone head on, your fucked out face clear for them to watch. you lowered your head to save some of your dignity but he pulled your hair, neck straining as he showed your face to show them.

“tsk, don’t hide your face from them, bunny, let them see how good i’m fucking you,” he said as he looked at his phone, smirking at his friends who glared at him, clearly wanting to leave and bust the door down just to prove him wrong.

“after all, you are an attention whore. i’m just giving you what you want,” he whispered as he leaned down to bite the lobe of your ear. you whined at his strong thrusts, slick from your pussy sliding down your thighs.

“maybe you want them to come in here after i’m done with you and use you as a cum dumpster, do you want that?” he asks, hips thrusting hard as his balls hit your sopping cunt. you whined at his statement, hands gripping the sheets as your vision blurred from the pleasure.

“y-yes i want that! shit, t-tooru, feels so fucking good,” you whined, brain turning into mush as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. your legs were starting to tremble as your orgasm was fast approaching. oikawa knew you were going to cum so he pulled your hair harder and leaned down to whisper in your ear, his sweaty torso covering the expanse of your back.

“it’s okay, you can say it, tell me you love the way i’m fucking this filthy pussy. you’re the only one who doesn’t want to admit it,” he growled in your ear as he furiously played with your clit, making the knot in your stomach threaten to burst from his ministrations.

“i l-love the way you’re f-fucking me tooru! so fucking good, yes—!” you screamed as you came all around his cock, body shaking from the intense orgasm. oikawa groaned loudly as he filled you up with his cum, yours mixing with his. you moaned at the warmth in your pussy, breathing heavily as you tried to regain your senses. he came so much that it was sliding down your legs and staining his sheets.

you looked up at his phone and saw his friends staring at you with their jaws dropped. you would laugh at how comical they looked if you hadn’t just experienced the best fucking of your life, though you’ll never say that to oikawa. ever. you sighed instead, feeling icky with all the cum on and in your body.

you were about to lay on your back until oikawa carried you off the bed and slammed you against the wall, his hand cushioning your head from the hard cement. you yelped as your head spinned from the sudden movement.

“oh? you thought we were done? i promised to make you cum several times, didn’t i?” he smirked at you. you were amazed at his strength, his biceps flexing as he wrapped your still shaking legs around his waist. he didn’t even give you time to breathe before he plunged his hard cock inside your leaking pussy. fuck, this man’s stamina is endless.

you moaned wantonly as he pistoned his hips in and out of your cunt, hands squeezing the back of your thighs. your sweaty back was sliding against the wall as your body moved up and down, hands holding his shoulders for support. you noticed that you were still wearing your bra and it made you uncomfortable at the restriction it was causing to your tits.  

“we want to see her tits, oikawa!” mattsun exclaimed. he was practically bouncing in his seat in excitement. iwaizumi didn’t stop him because he wanted to see your breasts too.

oikawa  smirked, “you heard what he said, wanna show these tits to them?” you nodded frantically, embarrassment nowhere to be found as you removed your hands from his shoulders, finally removing the stained fabric from your chest. oikawa squeezed them with one big hand as soon as they were exposed causing all of them to collectively groan at the sight while oikawa continued fucking you.

“you walk around hating me only for you to end up getting fucked by my cock?” he growled at you as he ended his sentence with a hard thrust. “how pathetic and cock-hungry you must be. such a fucking whore.” you whined at his words, not being able to say anything because it was true. you were a cock-hungry whore for him, and you loved how he was fucking you with pent-up anger and frustration.

he squeezed your hips tighter, all the accumulated fluids in between you making lewd squelching sounds as you neared your orgasm once again. “to–tooru, fuck!” you screamed, cunt clenching as his cock hit your sweet and sensitive spot, walls fluttering around him.

“cum for me, whore,” he growled as he lowered his head to bite your neck. you came with a scream as you left red lines on his shoulders. his thrusts slowed down as he set your shaking legs down to the floor. he was still inside of you as he leaned his forehead down to yours, eyes closed as a drop of sweat fell from his hairline. his defined chest heaved as he fought to catch his breaths.

he carried you back to the bed with his cock still inside you. you thought he was going to pull out until he grabbed your limp legs and put them on his shoulders. you moaned at the new position, weakly trying to push him away because you were so tired. “n-no more tooru, t-too sensitive!” you weakly protested, hands trying to push yourself away from him.

“i think your dirty cunt can give me one more orgasm, hm? can you be a good whore and do that for me?” he cooed at you, thumbs slightly rubbing your ankles. you softly nodded at him, enamored by his sparkling brown eyes, or were you just drunk on his cum and musky scent? either way, his cock was too good to deny, even if your pussy was already close to being numb.

he smiled devilishly at you, he hugged your legs closer to his body as he started thrusting once more. you were practically incoherent, mouth sputtering unintelligible words and high pitched whines as oikawa rode your pussy. he let one leg fall off his shoulder as he gripped the headboard, mattress squeaking from his deep thrusts.

you watched as a drop of sweat fell from his neck and travelled down his chest and abdomen to mix with your joined bodies. you were so wet and slick down there that every thrust oikawa made only served to make your pussy throb and pulse around him more. you were moaning with reckless abandon, uncaring of the people that were watching your bruised cunt getting relentlessly fucked, only caring to climax one final time just so tooru would let you go and pass out on his bed.

oikawa was thrusting so hard and fast that the headboard was banging against the wall, with your breasts bouncing up and down along with it. you could tell that he too was at his limit, judging by how his thrusts became sloppier and erratic and his moans increasing in volume and pitch.

“t-tooru, g-gonna cum, please,” you said, he groaned as he brought down his arm from the headboard and played with your clit, pinching it with his fingers, making you scream and arch your back as you squirted all around him. he came with a loud moan as he saw the clear liquid shoot out from your pussy, drenching his abdomen. “fuck, did you just squirt?” he breathed in amazement, eyes widened and mouth dropped.

he set your leg down and pulled out as he watched your mixed fluids trickle out of your cunt. you were too fucked out to care as he played with your pussy, your mouth open and eyes drooping as you breathed loudly and heavily. he was pushing the mixed cum back inside your filthy cunt when you heard the door swing open to reveal your three voyeurs, all with tented cocks stretching the front of their pants.

“shit, oikawa. you actually fucked her dumb,” mattsun said in fascination, watching your chest heave up and down. makki hummed in agreement while iwaizumi just stared at your dripping cunt, watching your cum and tooru’s trickling out of your pussy and sliding down your ass, staining the sheets. you shivered at their stares and brought your hand to spread your folds, making them see your filthy pussy better. you smirked lazily as you heard the men in the room groan in unison while you swirled your finger, playing with the cum in your cunt.

“you got room for three more cocks, baby?” mattsun taunted you, three of them entering the room and standing at the foot of the bed. your smirk dropped as you watched iwaizumi take his shirt off, leaning your head back on the pillow as you moaned tiredly, your battered pussy quivering at the thought of more cocks making a mess of your cunt.

needless to say, you and oikawa didn’t get any work done on the project that night.

[9:21 PM]

[bobadiin]

hello! this is my clone oc Fern (they/he)!! (ct-1106) art by @puirelle

(oc blog is @fernika)

Fern loves plants, but their favourite is (obviously) the fern! They have a fern tattoo that they add to every time something happens that they feel makes them grow as a person. Once they’re more comfortable around someone, they start telling them fun facts about plants, as a way of saying “i like you and i trust you to not make fun of me for knowing this.” 

They have long hair that they like to braid and sometimes they wear it loose or in a bun.

They are autistic and have ADHD. They belonged to a spec-ops squad that was given special training on Kamino. They are an extremely capable soldier and their squad ran a lot of successful missions until a mission went bad. The squad got disbanded and some were sent back to Kamino to help with training and others were added to battalions. Fern joins the 13th battalion under General Jaro Tapal and Padawan Commander Cal Kestis.

More detailed background information under the cut!

This might be a bit incoherent and missing some info im typing this on impulse and while Very Tired

Fern was selected from a young age to be put into a special ops squad. Both he and his batchmates were led to believe the other had gotten reconditioned/decommissioned. They think none of their batchmates are alive and vice versa while they are very much alive and together in a squad in a battalion. 

Fern is autistic and has ADHD, and has a hard time in social situations outside of interacting w their batchmates or their special ops team (and later the squad they join in a battalion). Due to this, they hold onto the rules. They always try their hardest in the tasks the Kaminoans give them because they understand that they would be considered defective if the Kaminoans found out that their brain worked differently than their siblings’ brains. 

Due to their ability to hyperfocus on a singular task, and their adherence to the rules, the Kaminoans selected them for special training. During missions, Fern is able to focus perfectly fine, but outside of missions they tend to drift and zone out occasionally when thinking about or researching their special interests to destress (ferns, botany and archaeology). Due to the intense and close training the squad he’s with got, they all understand and know how Fern is, and Fern is able to let his guard down and Be Himself around his squadmates when they’re alone on Kamino and after they ship out. Their most frequent stims consist of biting the inside of their lips, pinching the skin on their hands, bending and stretching their toes and occasionally echolalia. 

After the Mission Gone Bad, their Jedi Shadow general got injured enough to get discharged and the squad got disbanded. Some of their too injured siblings went back to Kamino to help train new squads, and the rest got put in different battalions. 

Fern gets put in the 13th battalion under General Jaro Tapal and Padawan Commander Cal Kestis. Due to their neurodivergency, going from a spec ops squad to an entire battalion is a change they have a very hard time dealing with, even more so because they don’t know anyone. They’re incredibly stressed and have a hard time adjusting to the number of interactions they have per day, and they struggle with social cues a lot. They don’t really approach their bunkmates due to the sensory overload and stress they have in the beginning, falling asleep the moment their head hits the bed. After a while, he just feels like it’d be weird to approach them so he doesn’t.  Fern eventually gets adopted into Terra Squad (who belong to @puirell), at the recommendation of their General, but the squad was planning on doing it either way. They get quite close to the squad leader and eventually are comfortable around all members :)

There’s more that happens but! This is what I am sharing for now bc this is incredibly long SDFG

[theinvisiblecapricorn]

Surprise, surprise.

Author's note: This is my first ever written one shot. The inspiration popped into my head during my shower. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy

Fluffy one shot.

Part 1.

// Introduction //

A little info about Y/N and Vinnie.

So, you guys met during the first Covid lockdown.

You weren’t really seeing anyone of your friends during this time because you didn’t feel like taking any risks. So the only way for you to interact with anyone, was via social media. Before lockdown you also kind of give up on the idea of finding a lover because the last time you gave it a shot it didn’t work out.

You remember one of your best friends told you ‘’ Once you start focusing on yourself, it’ll come to you. ‘’ Well, what better way to focus on yourself other than during quarantine?

That’s when Vinnie came into the picture.

After many failed attempts of having a normal conversation with serval people, the last thing Vinnie expected was to meet someone like you. A lot of the time people tried to take advantage of the fact that he was famous. They would post his personal info on social media and share their conversations for clout. Just like you, Vinnie was kind of over the idea of meeting someone who would like him for his personality instead of his name.

You guys instantly clicked. It felt like talking to someone you’ve known your entire life. There wasn’t a thing you couldn’t share with another. But because the two of you lived in different time zones you couldn’t talk as much as you’d like, but you made it manageable. There was only one problem; traveling was not an option due to Covid, so the two of you had never seen each other in real life.

Until now…

// End of introduction //

Alex (Warren) set up his camera to make a video.

He clicked on record and looked into the camera.

‘’ So as you guys know, Vinnie and Y/N met online in the beginning of Covid, but they’ve never officially seen each other in real life. Now that traveling is allowed again and Vinnie hasn’t been feeling himself lately, I thought it was a good idea to surprise him. I bought y/n a plan ticket so she can come over and hopefully cheer Vinnie up. And I will document the entire journey. ‘’

// Vinnie’s POV //

It’s noon. I lay on my bed, scrolling on my phone through TikTok. I haven’t heard from Y/N all day. Normally she would call me before going to bed herself, but she never did. I tried texting her but no reply.

Y/NNNN????

Yo bro, you there???

I miss your voiceeee

Please don’t be asleep already 

Pick up!!!!!! Or else I’m coming for you.

God, I wish I could just fly to wherever she was at and kiss her entire face. Because, yes, I am indeed in love with her, and she feels the same way about me. I just never thought I could recognize so much of myself in someone else. She’s the most kind, beautiful and loving person I know, and I can’t wait to hold her in my arms one day and never let go.

I’m starting to daydream about a life with y/n without the long distance, because it truly sucks. Then I hear a knock on the door and before I know it Alex comes rushing in with his camera in his hand.

( Vinnie & Alex )

‘’ Vinnie, say hello to everyone! ‘’

‘’ Hello everyone. Alex what do you want? ‘’

‘’ Why are you assuming I want something from you? ‘’

‘’ Because you only enter my room if you either have one of your crazy ideas to share or if you want me to get involved in something I probably shouldn’t get involved into. ‘’

‘’ Pfft, not true. My ideas aren’t crazy, they’re brilliant in their own way. ‘’

Alex grins at me. Suspiciously.

‘’ Anyways that’s not the point Vincent, I actually came in to see if you would join me to get some groceries because the only thing left are rise waffles and I’m starving. ‘’

Alex is blinking his eyes with the same grin he has had on from the moment he came into my room.

He’s not going to leave until I agree on coming. So before I know it, we’re on our way to the grocery store.

// Y/N’s POV //

I received a text from Alex a few weeks ago. He told me about his idea to surprise Vinnie. I couldn’t be more excited. Ever since Vinnie and I started talking I have pushed many of my personal boundaries. In a positive way. Vinnie has helped me regain trust in others and has showed me that love is real. I have lost my faith in love due to my previous experiences. That’s why the connection that I have with Vinnie is so important to me.

I have arrived at the airport as I turn on my phone. My phone starts to receive all the missed text messages and calls from Vinnie. I smile as I read through them.

‘’ Oh Vin, if only you knew ‘’ I think to myself.

I hear someone yelling my name behind me. As I turn around, I see Nailea running towards me.

Nailea is a close friend of Vinnie so of course she was the first to know about Vinnie’s contact with me. She’s been super kind to me, and I consider her as the sister I never had.

Nailea hugs me once she has approached me.

( Y/N & Nailea )

‘’ OH MY GOD. Girl, I am so happy that you’re finally hereeeee!!! ’’

I laugh as I see people around looking at us.

‘’ I am also very happy to be here. To finally meet everyone. For real. ‘’

‘’ Yea, now tell me, does my nose look bigger on the screen than in real life? ‘’

‘’ Hahaha, no Nai. You look fantastic on the screen and even better in real life. ‘’

Nailea and I take my stuff and walk out of the airport.

Once settled in the car, I receive a text from Alex:

We’re almost at the store. He hasn’t got a clue. See you there.

This is all a part of Alex his big plan. First, I will act like a regular costumer shopping at the same store as Vinnie and Alex. Then once they get back, Alex will distract Vinnie just a little longer, so he won’t notice me walking past the car right away. Brilliant.

// Vinnie’s POV //

Alex and I walk into the store.

‘’ Alright, what do we need? ‘’

‘’ Anything but rise waffles. ‘’

I shake my head, laughing, as I walk to the lemonade aisle.

Alex is taking out his camera and starts filming me from a far.

I start singing Paparazzi by Lady Gaga as I act like I'm hiding from him.

‘’ Oh, you should also take a few cans of coke. ‘’ Alex suggests.

As I walk towards the aisle with cans of lemonade, I notice a girl standing in front of it. Her hair instantly reminds me of Y/N. The exact same length, color and texture. Call me a simp, but I just pay a lot of attention to the girl I love. I slowly approach the girl before Alex attacks be by throwing a teddy bear on my head.

‘’ Hey, watch it! ‘’ I fix my hair.

‘’ Sorry man, I just know how much you like teddy bears. ‘’ Alex’s laughing out loud as he zooms in to my face.

I laugh, as I start to think back to the day Alex thought it would be funny to buy a giant teddy bear and have Patrick in it to scare me.

Just then, I notice the girl was gone. I didn’t see her anywhere else again.

After collecting all the stuff, we needed, we went home.

Once we arrived home, Alex stopped me before I opened my car door.

‘’ Let’s just sit here for a bit and talk about some stuff. ‘’ I stare at Alex with a confused look on my face.

‘’ Yea, because the viewers want to know, how are things going between you and Y/N? ‘’

I scratch the back of my neck and start feeling the heat take over my cheeks.

‘’ I mean, it’s hard sometimes. She’s one of the most important people in my life, yet I haven’t even met her in person. But I just know that once I do, that everything will naturally fall into it’s place. ‘’

Alex pouts as he listens to all the sweet things I have to say.

‘’ You really like her, don’t you? ‘’

‘’ I mean, yea I do. I really do. ‘’

‘’ Alright, so imagine her standing in front of you right now, what would you do? ‘’

I look at my hands as I start to imagine a situation like that.

‘’ Uh… If she was standing in front of me right now.. I would.. ‘’ My eyes scan a figure walking past the car and I couldn’t believe my eyes.

// Y/N’s POV //

Shit, I almost got caught. The plan was to go into the store, just to admire Vinnie from a far. I didn’t plan to stand in the exact aisle, where he needed to get something from. Luckily, Alex had a plan to distract Vinnie while I fled to the exit. Phew, that was close.

Alex texted me, saying they were on their way home. That’s when it hit me, I am going to be able to see, touch and kiss Vinnie for the first time ever. Nailea noticed my anxiety kicking in and she told me everything would be just fine.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s car pulled up on the driveway. Alex and Vinnie stayed in the car for a bit. My phone started buzzing as I read the notification: ‘’ Now!’’ That was my cue.

As nervous as one can be, I walked past the car with the person who’s the other half of my heart in it. I didn’t dare to look in his direction.

// Vinnie’s POV //

I couldn’t believe my eyes. This isn’t real right? Was I dreaming? I mean, I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night because I was worried sick due to Y/N not responding to me anymore.

I rub my eyes as I watch in the direction of the person again and there’s no way it couldn’t be her.

Then she turns her face into my direction and my heart starts pounding. There she is, the love of my life, the only person who can make my day just by popping up in my notifications, Y/N.

As I try to open my door, I hear Alex locking it.

‘’ Let me out! ‘’ I look at Alex as I try to unlock the door, but unable because he keeps his hand infront of the lock.

‘’ You haven’t answered my question yet. ‘’ Alex smirks at me, but I do not find it funny at all.

‘’ Please, let me out and I’ll show you what I would do if she were to stand in front of me ‘’

And with, I heard the door unlock. I jumped out of the car and ran as fast as I could to the person who I longed for the most.

Click here for part two;

[studiojeon]

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | -  how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :) 

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break. 

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus. 

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would. 

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time. 

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building. 

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?” 

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway” 

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack. 

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

[saphirered]

Percy and Bad first times? I love these asks thank you!

I do not know why it took me approximately an eternity to write this but I finished it. I hope it will have been worth the wait. 😘

(Percy)

The moment Percy walked into your life you thought he was very much the egotistical rich kid. First impressions weren’t great as he concluded that wether or not you came from money or status, you rebelled against the social norms of high society. You two were polar opposites and anyone who said opposites attract; you were the proof against that claim for the longest time.

At the realisation you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon Percy tried to school you in manners for his sake correcting your behaviour and even words like you were some insolent child. You did not take this well and the argument that followed, unavoidable. Many things were said, some neither of you are proud of and you didn’t speak for days unless it were some snide remarks.

Then it came to a job to interact with high society people and you got to show Percy how wrong he was as you properly addressed the people, held your posture correctly and picked every word eloquently. Taken aback by your complete 180 in behaviour a conversation was in order. You got the pleasure telling Percy his ‘lessons’ had nothing to do with this and unlike some people you’d rather not be a pompous ass with a superiority complex like some people.

This lead Percy to dive into some research trying to find your name and family name, tapping into all resources at his disposal to figure you out telling himself you might be a threat if you were hiding things. He was not prepared to find out what happened with your family and faced you with the fact he found your past. The first one on one you had was Percy quite literally cornering you so you couldn’t avoid him. Admittedly not his proudest moment. You needed to talk so talk you did.

Telling Percy your story and trusting him with it might have been the first time you’ve told anyone since you left your home. In turn to set the record straight he told you what had happened with his own family. You came to the conclusion you’re not so different after all. A mutual understanding and trust formed between the two of you, though your arguments did not end with you disagreed on a matter. Rarely did you give the other the silent treatment and instead came to an agree-to-disagree conclusion if compromise was not an option. In time, they’d cease to be arguments all together and simply turn into conversations.

At this point you might even have considered yourselves friends. You found yourselves spending more time together. Percy was raised the so-mani-eth child extremely unlikely to be the heir of his family but with the tragedy that befell them, only he and his sister remained. You were raised to continue your family’s legacy but had lost everything. When Whitestone was returned to the surviving De Rolo’s you promised to give aide in any way you could.

Vox Machina, taken in a different direction you stayed behind with Cassandra. You took no titles or lands no matter how many times, Cassandra and the council offered them. In his time away from you and his home he came to realise he’d begun missing your company, the conversations and having to be the smart and semi-responsible one of the group. Not only that, you’ve been a rock in the current that’s his chaos and with you away he feels he’s more likely to fall to the temptations placed in front of him. Proof of that; the trip to the city of Dis.

When this realisation hits Percy he’ll take any opportunity to spend more time with you. He doesn’t inject himself into your daily life but any time there’s a reason for him to be present he’ll take it. Him coming clean about the contract and handing it to you for safekeeping trusting you that no matter the circumstance you’ll never give it to him, you absolutely go apeshit on him. How could he be so damn stupid. A deal with a devil? Really?! All the what ifs… It made you realise your anger and disappointment came from a place of affection.

You made Percy promise he’d tell you when he’s thinking of doing something stupid he’ll tell you before doing the thing. Before he leaves for another adventure or comes back from one you’ll go on a walk, have dinner or just relax somewhere. Sometimes you’ll talk, sometimes sit in silence, whatever you feel like in that moment. You’d begun holding hands, hugging or a kiss to the cheek before departure or upon return, tiny displays of affection.

You were informed Percy had died, but as Grog told you, he got better. Reasonably so you freaked out but you were also aware of the risk of the adventurer lifestyle, more accurately the lifestyle of someone with enemies like Percy. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel like your heart just shattered in that moment. You cared for Percy until he recovered. It’s the first time you truly saw Percy weak, not of mind wavering to a pact with an entity or the likes, but mentally done.

Percy first realised he might hold more than affections for you when you promised him that you’d always have one more thing for him to do. No matter how messed up the world looked, there’d always be a place for him with you. He’s not stupid enough to think this doesn’t come out of a deep affection of your own but he can’t be too sure it’s love either. It’s obvious you care for him, and maybe you do love him but are you in love with him? He’s not sure. Is he in love with you? He’s unsure. He knows he cares about you immensely and loves you just as much and that’s enough for him.

Percy is a man of impulse. This comes in especially handy when someone lacks courage to do something. He doesn’t approach you for your first ‘official’ date. It was just like any other outing you’d gone on or time you spent together except for the fact Percy asked you out, letting slip it was a date. If just asking you this was already so difficult he definitely would need a bottle of courage or two admitting his feelings out loud.

You’re clever enough and know how to read people enough that you weren’t oblivious to Percy’s recent changes in behaviour towards you. You were also clever enough to place them and, when courage fails you’re not one to beat around the bush. You called him out and half fearing you’d turn him down, he was proven the opposite when you pulled him in by the ascot and kissed him. Surprising but not unwanted.

Seeing no need in defining your relationship for others, you also didn’t ease the others into this development. Watching you kiss Percy passionately before he was off on another adventure leaving everyone around very surprised. So surprised they missed the mark on Keyleth’s transport via plants. Bombarded with questions about when or how this happened Percy didn’t want to indulge them with answers and instead spent more time with you.

Of course you had shared sleeping spaces before. You weren’t strangers to sharing a bed but you can comfortably say, it became much more comfortable after you first shared your bed together as lovers in the afterglow, waking up like a sweaty mess. Sharing baths after became the norm to freshen up and relax. The perfect excuse to spend more time together and have everyone else gagging after the look you’d share when asked why you missed breakfast… and lunch…

It took a long while before you first found yourselves able to exchange I love you’s but when danger came knocking at your door and you were thrown back into the fight for Tal’Dorei with Vox Machina’s allies it was now or never. Seeing things go south you got the pleasure of teaming up with a brass dragon to kick some undead ass.

“Before we both do something incredibly stupid I want you to know I love you.” Simple and efficient and to the point.

“I am tempted to hold these words for myself until after we’ve saved the world. Call it motivation to stay alive but since you made such an effort already. I love you too, dear.” Asshole. What did you expect. The feeling was mutual.

(Caduceus)

The first time you met Caduceus you’d killed someone in not too far out from Shady Creek. The down side, you killed someone important. They came after you, you protected yourself but then you had a body to deal with. You heard about the cursed place, and decided to just bury it there. You didn’t expect to find a dopey pink haired firbolg to be living at the heart of the place. He was surprisingly helpful in burying the body you brought to the point you were almost sure you’d be buried right next to your victim soon. Luckily for you you were proven wrong.

You couldn’t really return to Shady Creek and it’s not like you had much of a home there so you wandered the forests hunting and gathering for food and warmth at night avoiding the cursed places and dangers as much as you could. You couldn’t and returned to the safety of the Blooming Grove. So you made a deal, you’d stay with the firbolg, help him out at his graveyard, cemetery, whatever it is and he’d give you a place to sleep at night.

You resorted to staying inside the small temple sleeping on the floor but soon enough, Caduceus invited you to just take one of the beds in the house and stick around instead of leave at dawn to find food, removing some weeds, watering some plants, and return at dusk. No more wandering you fell into more domestic tasks solidifying your roommate life with the man. It had been a while since either of you were in (good) company so you appreciated anything that could talk and wasn’t trying to murder you.

In your time spent with Caduceus you heard bits and pieces about his family but what didn’t add up for you were the beds and belongings he didn’t touch or did so with care to keep them clean. When you got the courage to ask Caduceus told you the story of Clay, Stone and Dust and how his family left to save the Grove and perhaps even the Savalirwood as a whole. It felt odd to actually talk to someone about them that’s not him to himself. He appreciated your compassion, telling him that they’d come back home and with the stories he told you hope you’d get to meet them one day.

Caduceus’ expert prepping of meals left you wanting to be able to do the same. Of course he was happy to teach you and with his guidance you cooked your first meal. It wasn’t the best but definitely beat anything you could make on the road by yourself. The spices are to die for. You found yourself falling into the habit of cooking together; a nice way to end the day.

You were having a particularly tough day and ready to just curl up and let the world consume you, there was no hiding from your friendly firbolg roommate. He knew what’s up but gave you a chance to come to him. You didn’t so he came to you. He didn’t say anything, just sat next to you with a cup of tea, set another one in front of you and stayed quiet until you were ready to talk or get back to your business if you didn’t. He wasn’t going to pry in personal matters unless you asked him.

An encounter with a nasty creature you were unable to scare off and away had Caduceus pinned to the ground. With enough courage and some knowledge of physical combat you managed to get the creature off and injure it enough so it fled. Pulling Caduceus to his feet you were engulfed in a hug with a thank you. As is common knowledge Caduceus hugs are the best hugs you found yourself asking for more. Caduceus wasn’t at all opposed to keep this a thing as he’d always enjoyed hugs.

With the two of you growing closer, living together you decided to sit down and talk about what you had and where it was going as neither of you wanted to accidentally lead on the other or set expectations that could not be met. Neither of you were looking for romantic love or romance at all. Some might refer to you as bestest of friends or life partners but that didn’t really seem to fit. You’re just you and Caduceus is him and you liked hugging and spending time together, going through the motions of life and that’s all you needed.

When the Nein came along looking for help, Caduceus offered for you to stay behind, the Blooming Grove was just as much your home as it was his but you went along anyway. You’d never left the forest. Never travelled south either but many adventures found their way to you and you’d be spending them with you with Caduceus through all the ups and downs. The Nein got so used to your dynamic they never questioned it. It was just something that existed and was happening and quite frankly, one of the few normal things about you and the firbolg.

When the day came you found the Clay family you got to be there for Caduceus as he had for you. Meeting them for the first time they lived up to the stories you’d been told. The Clays were very happy to meet Caduceus’ friends but upon learning about your connection to him they were relieved he hadn’t been all alone for all those years they were gone and had some company. They offered you to come back with them but just like Caduceus, there was still some unfinished business and these people, the Mighty Nein still needed your help.

Then, when everything came to a close, you returned to the Blooming Grove and spent the rest of your days there living content. It had been your home and would continue to be your home. The Clays became your family and for the first time in forever you could see yourself content at home leaving with Caduceus to travel at times but always return to that little spot in the Savalirwood.

[lunar-wandering]

“hey google? whats social interaction?”

two fics in one day hell yeah. this time it’s for an AU i don’t think i’ve talked about here, called the Shy!Wukong AU, in which 500 years of isolation had the consequence of absolutely destroying Wukong’s social skills and confidence.

Word Count: 3.4k

Read on Ao3

-

When MK arrived on Flower Fruit Mountain that afternoon, it was quiet. He walked around for a few minutes, enjoying the silence, a big difference from the constant sound of the city, before sighing.

He walked over and leaned against a tree, barely hearing the soft intake of breath from behind it.

"I know you're there, Monkey King." He sighed again, taking the staff out and twirling it. "I could see your tail y'know."

Wukong slowly emerged from behind him, walking around the tree to stand just outside of MK's reach. MK purposefully didn't look at him, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that his mentor was avoiding eye contact.

"Ah, uh, yeah uh, hey bud." Wukong said, "I uh, didn't know you were here-"

"You were meant to come hang out with me and my friends today." MK said, and Wukong slumped. "I understand having some days were you're just not up for interacting, but this is the third time. ...Why won't you interact with my friends?"

He asked this as gently as he could, but still Wukong shrunk back a little.

"They....they can sense weakness..." Wukong muttered, and now MK did look at him, with confusion.

"Wh- no they don't- well, Mei might, but still." He pushed off the tree, turning to face Wukong fully. "You seriously need to get some more social interaction- it'll help you be more confident again!"

Wukong opened his mouth as though to speak-

"Fighting Macaque that one time doesn't count as social interaction." MK deadpanned, watching unimpressed as Wukong nervously scratched the side of his face. "....Tell you what, if you come with me and Mei shopping tomorrow, I'll get off your case for a week. Does that sound okay?" 

"...Yeah..." Wukong quietly gave his assent, and MK beamed.

"Great! Now, are we going to do training?"

"I didn't plan anything out though...."

"That's okay, we can just spar!"

-

Wukong was 20 minutes late.

MK glanced at his watch again just to make sure that he was reading the time right, before looking back over to Mei. She was playing some game or other on her phone, looking bored.

"Y'know, I'm starting to think Mr. Monkey King might be scared of me." Mei said after another minute went by with still no sign of Wukong.

"Honestly, you might not be too far off from the truth there." MK admitted, "I was half expecting him to at least send a clone, but he must know that I catch on to that immediately now."

"Do you think he's alright?" Mei put her phone back in her pocket, now glancing at the sky with concern. "Like, he didn't freak too much over it and hole himself up in his room or something again, did he?"

"No, he's already met you once, so I don't think it'd be that bad again." MK pulled the staff out of his pocket, contemplating for a moment. "...Hey Mei, how would you like a trip to Flower Fruit Mountain?"

"I would love to." Mei smirked, before turning around and entering the mall, grabbing hold of the back of MK's hoodie to drag him in along with her. "But first, we're gonna need some supplies!"

-

When MK and Mei arrived on Flower Fruit Mountain, it was once again quiet.

"Okay." MK shifted the bag he was carrying on his arm, adjusting his grip. "He's probably up in his little house behind the waterfall. He probably knows we're here by now, so..."

"So all we have to do is find him." Mei finished, "Don't worry MK, I remember the plan."

"Right. Okay." They passed through the water fall, walking through the cave. Standing in front of Wukong's door, MK set his bag on the ground in order to lift his arm and knock.

One of the younger monkeys opened the door.

"Hey there!" MK said, "Is Monkey King here?"

The tiny monkey chitters out a response MK interprets as yes, moving aside to let Mei and MK through. Mei easily finds her way into the kitchen, and MK can hear the clattering of some pots and pans as she shuffles things around (they'd bought some hot chocolate, and apparently Mei refused to wait any longer before making it). MK, meanwhile, sets his bag down by the door and starts looking for Wukong.

It ends up not being very hard really, as he finds his mentor laying on the couch, a blanket pulled over top of his head, his tail poking out and resting on the floor, stiff.

...Too stiff.

"Monkey King?" MK asks, and he sees the fur on Wukong's tail bristle, but yet the monkey himself doesn't move. "I know you're awake."

Wukong says something entirely incoherent.

"Me and Mei are here to have a sleepover, if you're wondering." MK says, "Since you didn't come shopping with us."

There's no response.

Suddenly Mei curses, and there's a loud clatter in the kitchen. MK turns, suitably distracted.

"Y'alright?" He yells.

"Fine! Monkey King just has horrible sorting skills is all!" Is the response he gets, and MK quietly chuckles because, well, she's not wrong.

When he turns back around, Wukong is out from under the blanket, standing up, his usual nervous smile plastered on his face.

...But something's off. His back is too straight, for one, the Monkey King that MK knows is normally slightly slouched. The look in his eyes doesn't show shyness either, rather an attempt at faking being shy.

MK makes his deduction in less than a second.

"You're a clone aren't you."

"Oh thank heavens." The Wukong clone, relaxes just slightly, the nervous smile slipping off in favor of a more relaxed, natural one. (One that, notably, MK has only seen on Wukong's clones. Well, he thinks he saw his mentors real smile once, but Wukong had left rather fast after that, so MK had never been actually sure.) "I wasn't sure how long I could pretend to be nervous for."

"He's trying to bail again, huh." MK said, not even surprised, having mostly known this would happen. 500 years by himself had really taken it's toll on the Monkey King, MK still wasn't sure how exactly Wukong had lost his confidence, but the consequences of whatever it was were fairly obvious. It had taken forever for MK to actually get his mentor to just have normal conversations with him instead of just leaving him sticky notes with instructions on them. During that time, Wukong had run away from MK *multiple* times.

Well, not tonight. MK personally respected Wukong's lack of knowledge on how to be social, and knew first hand the experience of not feeling up to interacting with people. But if Wukong didn't at least try to step over his comfort zone, then he'd never become confident again.

Wukong's clone seemed to have the same idea, as he turned, walking off down a hallway. MK heard a door open- followed by a yelp of betrayal, and then the clone was back, carrying a flustered Monkey King over his shoulder, dumping him onto the couch before vanishing, just as Mei entered the living room with a tray covered in candies, as well as three mugs of hot chocolate.

"Did I miss anything?" She asks, setting the tray down on the coffee table, before sitting on the couch to the left of Wukong. The Monkey King actually squeaked, shifting to move to the other side, only to be stopped by MK sitting on his right. Almost as though they'd planned it, they both leaned up against Wukong simultaneously, feeling how he stiffened at the sudden contact.

"Did you get the remote?" Mei asked, sipping at her hot chocolate.

"Yep." MK held the remote up with one hand, easily accessing Wukong's Netflix account. (He'd accidentally stumbled upon the password one of the times the monkeys had shoved him into the house in an attempt to help him interact with Wukong.) "What do you want to watch?"

"Hm, dunno. What do you think, Mr. Monkey King?"

Wukong didn't respond. He still hadn't relaxed either. His eyes looked slightly unfocused, and MK could practically hear the computer crashing noises.

Jeez. Wukong was a lot more touch-starved than he had thought.

And then Wukong moved, sliding down a little, covering his face with his hands. Mei and MK shared a look of concern.

Maybe this much contact was a bit too much to start?

MK leaned away from Wukong, putting just the slightest bit of distance between them, Mei following his lead soon after.

They were both quiet for a moment, silently considering what to do next as Wukong continued to not look at them.

...And then Mei grabbed the pillow behind her, slowly raising it over her head.

MK barely had the time to register what she was doing before the pillow smacked him in the face.

Mei burst out laughing at MK's surprised look, jumping up off the couch, pulling more pillows out of...somewhere. MK hadn't seen her grab them, but they were certainly there now.

He ducked down, sliding off the couch as a pillow soared over his head, flopping against the couch cushions, having not met it's target. He barely managed to shift out of the way of a second pillow, catching a third before it could hit him in the chest.

"Oh it is on!" He cheered, spinning around before throwing the pillow at Mei as hard as he could.

Soon enough the pillow fight increased to all out warfare, more pillows seemingly appearing out of nowhere. MK laughed, nearly forgetting about Wukong-

And then a pillow hit him in the back of the head.

Both he and Mei paused, knowing for a fact that Mei hadn't thrown it, she was in front of him, getting him from behind was impossible.

MK turned around just in time to see Wukong create another pillow out of one of his hairs and throw it.

When MK pulled the pillow off of his face, he was greeted with Wukong's nervous smile, and a bit of anxious laughter.

MK glanced at Mei.

Well. This wasn't exactly the way they had planned to help Wukong come out of his shell a bit, but it could work.

-

Sleepovers became more frequent after that. Typically they ended up with just a pillow fight, but still, it was some progress, however small.

MK and his friends were more than content to take things slow, let Wukong relearn how to socially interact and overcome his shyness the normal way.

And then New Years happened.

Wukong was still definitely not comfortable interacting with anyone other than Mei, MK, and Sandy, but he did start showing up a bit more frequently. (MK had noticed that Wukong tried his hardest to be more confident around Pigsy. He wasn't sure as to why Wukong did so, but he did. Pigsy himself seemed concerned about it as well, but for the most part let it slide). MK sometimes couldn't help but feel that his mentor seemed a bit...worried about something. But whenever he asked, Wukong would just clam up, sometimes even going so far as to distract MK before teleporting away.

But whatever. It was fine, they were making progress. Wukong was actually somewhat talking to people now, albeit he was still quiet, and easily flustered at the smallest of things. (Tang had briefly mentioned how impressive Wukong's feats were in an offhand sentence, and the Monkey King had practically shut down for an entire half an hour.)

...Unlike MK and the others however, Demon Bull King was more than slightly concerned.

The New Years Incident had been his first time seeing the Monkey King since 500 years ago, and needless to say, he was not what he expected.

He remembered Wukong being boastful, confident, easily coming up with snarky quips left and right.

So it was definitely a shock when, instead of annoyingly chatting or created stupid jokes while captured by Spider Queen, Wukong had simply sat there, quiet, a light blush dusting his face as he sulked, embarrassed over having gotten caught.

Demon Bull King could only wonder what in the world could've happened that would've rendered the Monkey King so shy.

He'd shared his concerns with his family, of course, in a roundabout, thinly veiled way. (He had been fairly certain that the monkey of the conversation had actually been spying on them at the time). Princess Iron Fan had commented about seeing Red Son in a slightly similar state, considering how he never could seem to hold an actual conversation with MK or Mei, instead always challenging them to a battle. (She was concerned, for her son. She'd known that staying in his lab, working on inventions day in and day out would definitely be bad for his social skills, but Red Son had been so stubborn at the time that there'd been nothing she could do.)

Red Son, of course, entirely missed hearing the conversation about himself.

He did however, hear the one about Wukong.

Which, of course, led to-

"Wake up, simian!"

Wukong startled, rolling out of bed, falling to the floor, his blankets falling on top of him and obscuring his vision. He scrambled for a minute, trying to get his bearings as he struggled with the blankets, trying to clear his vision.

A light laugh made him freeze, suddenly glad for the blankets covering him as he felt his face flush as he realized he wasn't alone.

"Seriously? This is the great, powerful Monkey King everyone is afraid of?"

It took a moment for him to place the voice, slowly lifting the blankets up, keeping his head hung low as he checked to make sure.

Bright red jacket. The faint smell of smoke.

Red Son.

Wukong looked away, trying to pull up every inch of confidence he'd regained.

"....How'd you get into my house?" Is what he ended up saying, and he mentally patted himself on the back for not having his voice break mid sentence.

"Please, it's not like it's that difficult."

"There's a whole entire waterfall sealing the place."

"Which is very easy to by pass if you know how."

Wukong couldn't come up with a response for that, instead forcing himself to stand up, trying to put a normal smile on his face, but knowing it would probably only end up being his usual nervous one.

"Uh, um. Why are you here?" He finally asked.

"Well, uh, my father is worried about you so I'm here to help you or....whatever.... something like that..." Red Son said, getting a bit quieter and trailing off towards the end of his sentence.

"I-" Suddenly, irritation overcame Wukong's shyness and anxiety. "You- you're just as bad as I am!"

(Demon Bull King had been right. Wukong had been spying on them during that conversation. He'd originally planned on going over to talk to them, but then, well, as usual he'd panicked, and ended up listening in the rafters while waiting for an opportunity to leave unnoticed.

...That had been a long day.)

Red Son spluttered for a moment, before pulling himself together.

"I am not." He hissed, the edges of his hair sparking.

"You socialize with my successor by fighting him because you don't know how to ask him and Mei to hang out outside of battling." Wukong deadpanned, "And no, battles do not count as social interaction, according to MK."

There was a pause, where they both went silent, staring at each other, waiting for the next move.

An hour later, and they were both sitting on the floor of Wukong's bedroom, both of them looking slightly frazzled.

"I mean, just." Red Son said, "How do you talk to people?!"

"I literally have no idea." Wukong sounded just as stressed and dismayed as Red Son. "I mean, MK and his friends have been trying, and like, I guess it's been working, because they haven't complained about me yet, but still, just, what is social interaction??"

"I don't know!" Red Son groaned, holding his head in his hands. "If- if only we had someone who was really good at social interaction, someone we could copy-"

"Like MK?" Wukong asked, before immediately dismissing the idea in his next sentence. "No, no, he'd pick up on what we're doing and either make us stop or call us out on it way too fast...."

"Agreed, we definitely cannot use the Noodle Boy or his friends as an example." Red Son muttered, "But....to be honest with you, I don't know many other people."

"...Me either." Wukong flopped backwards to lay on the floor, both of them sighing in defeat.

And then Wukong, tensed sitting back up, a thoughtful but also very reluctant look on his face.

"...Actually, there is one person we might be able to go to..."

-

"...What's being social?"

Wukong and Red Son both looked at their last hope of a savior in dismay.

Macaque stared back with an equivalent amount of confusion.

The three of them sat in the middle of a small park, partially hidden from passerby by a line of bushes. Macaque wasn't even entirely sure how he'd gotten there, and wasn't even close to having a clue as to what was going on.

"What do you mean you don't know- you socialize literally every day!" Wukong threw his hands up into the air, in a mixture of anger and defeat.

"You alone are literally responsible for over half of the city's parties." Red Son added, "How can you not know how to be social when you're the perfect example of a social butterfly?"

"I don't know." Macaque shrugged. If anything, this reaction seemed to cause Red Son and Wukong more distress.

"So you're saying you.... don't actually know how to socially interact?"

"Uh, no?" Macaque leaned back, crossing his arms. "I kinda just go along with whatever happens so- wait why are you crying."

Red Son looked to his left to see that, oh, uh, Wukong was crying. He didn't seem like he wanted to be, if the way he was hiding his face behind his hands and trying to muffle his sobs was any indication, but he definitely was.

"You were our last hope of understanding social interaction." Wukong muttered, voice muffled by his hands. Red Son awkwardly hovered his hand over Wukong's shoulder, knowing that the other still wasn't entirely used to touch.

"...Aren't the both of you interacting with me ri-" Macaque was abruptly cut off as something grabbed him by the back of his scarf, pulling him back into the bush. Red Son was too focused on Wukong, and Wukong was too busy trying to stop crying, to notice the sudden disappearance.

Macaque landed on his back, spitting out a stray leaf as he looked up at MK. (He'd known Wukong's successor was spying on them, he'd heard him hide behind the bush. Still though, randomly grabbing him was a little bit annoying).

"You can't tell them that they're socially interacting." MK hissed, quiet enough that the other two couldn't hear him. Macaque raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Any particular reason as to why?"

"If you tell them they're actually interacting it's like- it's like Cinderella when the clock hits midnight, they both go back to being easily flustered recluses." MK said, "You've got to keep them going without realizing what they're doing for as long as possible."

"...Okay???" Honestly, this didn't clear things up for Macaque at all, but he wasn't going to try and argue with MK now.

MK let go off his scarf, and Macaque returned to his position in front of Wukong and Red Son, adding an extra glamour over top of himself so that his little trip through the bush would be entirely unnoticeable. Funnily enough, neither of them seemed to have noticed his temporary disappearance.

"So uh....wanna keep not-socializing with me at that cafe over there?" Macaque pointed over his shoulder at a nearby place he liked to visit. If he was going to do this, he was going to need another dose of caffeine. "I can maybe try and figure out some tips for you?"

"Yes please." Wukong and Red Son said in sync, already standing up and moving towards the cafe. Macaque stood up shortly after them.

Quietly, watching them walk in front of him, he thought; 'They're idiots.'

-

"Wukong, why are you hiding your face, Red Son's the one that just face planted while walking through a door!"

The Monkey King's response was completely incoherent, afflicted with second-hand embarrassment. Both he and Red Son refused to look Macaque in the eye.

The shadow monkey sighed, almost tempted to teleport away to find somewhere nice to scream.

MK better find a good way of paying him back for this.

[outofsstyles]

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 

 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?” 

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

falling.

pairing: carter baizen x reader

warnings: angst, cheating (sorta?)

part 1 / part 2

and it kills me 'cause i know we've run out of things we can say. what am i now? what am i now? what if i'm someone i don't want around? i'm falling again, i'm falling again, i'm falling. what if i'm down? what if i’m out? what if i'm someone you won't talk about? i'm falling again, i'm falling again, i'm falling and i get the feeling that you'll never need me again ...

Stay away from me. I don’t want to see your face.

Those words were burned and scarred onto his mind and no matter how much he drank, how much he smoked, how much he slept, he could still hear her voice echoing those same words which hit him like daggers. She’d meant those words, he knew her well enough to know when she meant something and she had meant every single letter of every single word she had muttered. He couldn’t escape them and the worse thing was, he couldn’t escape her face. He hadn’t seen her in the last three months but he couldn’t forget the look on her face, the look of disappointment and hurt. He was used to disappointing his family, that’s all he could do but he’d never disappointed her before. She’d been upset at him, he’d been upset at her but they’d never been disappointed at each other. They’d always been there for each other but now she was just gone and he daren’t even try approaching her. He knew her threats weren’t empty and he knew way too well not to mess with Y/N. She was sweet but at the end of the day she was a Vanderbilt heiress and if you got on her bad side, you could easily see it. Yet, that didn’t mean he didn’t miss her.

How could he not when she had been around since the very moment they were introduced for each other? He couldn’t really explain what they were and he didn’t want to dwell on it, he’d rather think to himself that she was gone rather than admit he was the one responsible for it. After all, wasn’t that what he always did? Run away from his problems and avoiding them, instead creating even more issues. It was easier after all. However, what he did not expect was to find her doing the exact same and he couldn’t help but admit how angry he was to see her with someone else. At Cotillion, with Chuck, it was easy to know it was nothing; after all, everyone with a pair of eyes knew all Chuck Bass was interested in was Blair and once Nate was off the picture, the two immediately became a thing. But now? Now he couldn’t convince himself of it, he couldn’t tell himself that she was trying to make him jealous as she stepped into a MET exhibition accompanied by someone whom he didn’t know. A Kennedy, he had heard, and how could Carter compete with a Kennedy? He could not but seeing his Y/N with someone else made his blood boil and his grip tight around the champagne glass. Clearly he had forgotten he was here with someone else as well, yet, that didn’t mattered. What mattered was that his Y/N was with someone else. 

He hadn’t even want to come to this exhibition in the first place, he’d even tried to argue it out with Serena yet it was no use, he was here now and he could see it; he could see them. He could see the man pointing to his Y/N introducing her to everyone in the room as if she didn’t already know them. And that smile, that smile that always got him to do anything she wanted. A smile that was for him no longer yet looked his way and faltered. He downed the cold champagne in his glass, staring back at her before she moved her gaze away, hand wrapped around her date’s arm. Carter shoved the champagne glass on one of the floating silver trays before making his way through the crowd like a wolf hunting its sheep until she reached her. Whomever she was with had left her alone, probably to get some drinks but he didn’t care.

      - We need to talk. 

      - No, we do not. - she grabbed a canape from a passing tray, a habit she had whenever she was uncomfortable at parties. 

      - Can you at least give me that? You ruined my family’s appearances at social events, you made your point. You owe me a talk.

      - That’s rich. - she looked over her shoulder, hoping her date would come and interrupt their interaction. 

      - Please. - his eyes scanned hers for any softness which still laid for him, yet he couldn’t read her eyes. They were hooded and hidden by thick black shadow and dark eyeliner which took away from how watery and bright they usually were, from how happy he remembered them. It’d been a long, long three months and part of him hopped all the care she had once held from him hadn’t died. He still held her in high regard and while he didn’t expect her for even care for him anymore, part of him still hoped she wouldn’t let him bleed out if she found him wounded. However, Y/N was much too smart to let her own emotions take over her in public situations and so she walked away.

Her gown dragged away all her insecurities and all the faltering which still seemed to dance around her whenever he was around, yards and yards of fabric dragged all that was bubbling all the way to her throat and she found herself walking faster and faster to the bathroom. Her hands flew to the porcelain sink, holding herself up as if the weight of all she had ignored for the past three months was pushing her down into the centre of the Earth. Her head snapped up, watching her reflection in the golden mirror; she thought maybe if she could see how pathetic she looked, she would snap out of it. 

     - Y/N. - her grip on the porcelain tightened up as she turned her head to see him against the closed door.

     - I hate you. - she almost barked those words at him, voice filled with poison as if she had wanted to say them a long time ago. His eyes softened, corners looking down, a far cry from how unreadable he always was. - With every fibre of my being, I hate you. 

     - Fine. - he made his way towards her, standing by her side. - I just wanted to say that I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to hurt you.

     - You humiliated me in front of everyone. - her eyes looked into his for the first time that night, old wounds still not completely wounded. - You kissed me in Santorini when you were with Serena. You are a bad person, Carter. 

     - I know but I wasn’t with her like I was with you.

     - Details of your relationship do not interest me, Carter. If you wanna talk about your relationship, I’d suggest couples therapy. 

     - We weren’t a couple in Santorini, Y/N. Did you seriously think I would’ve done that to you?

     - I don’t know you. - she spewed those words, letting go of the sink and walking backwards, away from him. - I don’t even trust you, Carter.

     - I hope you know I’m not asking for forgiveness from you. I’m just apologising. 

     - I don’t need your apology, I need you away from me. I want you away from me.   

     - You’re spoiled, you know that? - he pointed his finger at her. - Just because the whole world revolves around your family does not mean I’ll stop going places just because you don’t want to see me. You don’t get to decide what I do!

    - For someone who hates this lifestyle, you seem so bothered. - she stood there, not completely happy with the adjective he’d just placed upon her. Y/N Archibald was many things, but spoiled was not one of them. No matter how many riches she had, she did not expect the world to bend to her will.  - Why are you here if you’re just going to criticise me anyway? 

The two of them remained in that match, almost to see which one of them could hurt the one the most, as if hurting each other would somehow make the fact they weren’t together hurt any less. The truth was, both of them were stubborn individuals and while Y/N had been the most forgiving of the two, seeing the man she had always hoped would someday be hers with someone else had almost erased all of that. Maybe she was spoiled for expecting him to someday magically want her by his side but he was spoiled too. They were two flawed human beings staring each other, waiting to see which one would break apart first until he realised one thing; he did not want to see her break apart. He was bitter, angry at her even but deep down he knew there was no one to be angry at but himself. He had caused this and he was lashing out at her, hoping that by hurting her, he’d feel better about her hating him so much. However, he did not want to hurt her. At least no more than he’d already done, either willingly or unwillingly. 

    - You win. - he lowered down his hands in defeat. Y/N, however remained still yet if one were to touch her arm, they could feel she was trembling. - I can’t fight with you any longer.

He almost left her there standing, not sure of what to say. He really was going to leave, he was going to disappear for a while yet his decision faltered as his eyes almost too quickly scanned her, noticing the thin gold bracelet around her wrist. He had given her that bracelet, something he’d got from one of his first travels to Europe. It was nothing too special, in all honesty, compared to what she was wearing, it was probably the cheapest thing she had on her person but he remembered that bracelet way too well. He remembered giving her the small little bag, her little argument about how he shouldn’t have gotten something for her, how she promised she’d never take it off. She still had it, she still wore it. 

     - You’re wearing the bracelet I gave you. - he pointed towards her wrist and she immediately covered it, looking at it for a bit before looking up at him.

     - Fine. - her voice almost broke as she tried to undo the clasp.

     - Don’t. - his voice however broke down as she found the clasp. - You promised. 

Her aura softened, shoulders lowering to a neutral position as her hand unwrapped from her wrist, her eyes gazing the shiny gold metal before she looked up and at him. Whatever fire her anger had ignited within her went down, washed away like the waves onto the sand and for the first time she moved forward until she was close enough to feel his breathe on her face. Her eyes heightened up to his, lips half parted as her hands cupped his face, the same face she had seen grow older over these years yet remain the same blue eyes which were so typically his. Her finger grazed his cheekbone, the mere action making him nuzzle his face against her warm. She always had warm hands and the both of them no longer wanted to fight. She was tired and Carter was deadly afraid of not ever talking to her again, he could not lose her. He did not want to lose her. 

There was no sound, not even the soft music outside seemed to break the silence, all that was around was their breathing, soft and slow. Her eyes moved from his to his lips, pink tinted, tainted with the taste of champagne which she could smell from his breathe. Soft emotion filled eyes looked his for a second before she moved closer, closing the distance between them. Her hands moved from his chest to rest against his chest as she tasted the champagne on his lips. His hands held her waist flush to him, before he two broke off the kiss, foreheads leaned against each other.

    - Don’t leave.

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter | extra content

✖   —   chapter summary: after receiving a text from zeke, you go out to meet him, leaving porco behind. your head is full of questions and you're not quite sure how you're going to confront him about last night's events.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, protected sex, zeke calls you a good girl, mentions and/or descriptions of parental emotional abuse/traumatic childhood, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 

✖   —   a/n: beta read by my friend @ofoceansandtombstones​ <3 the title of the chapter is a reference to “oh daddy” by fleetwood mac.

chapter two: oh daddy

The only sounds you could hear when you got to the tennis court Zeke asked you to meet at was the ball being hit with the rackets and grunts from the two blond men you were expecting to see. Even if Reiner was a part of the swimming team along with Zeke, he always indulged his friend into playing with him, especially in the early mornings.

Neither Zeke nor Reiner realized you were there, too focused on the game, so you walked to the bleachers and sat down, forearms resting on your knees and hunched back as you watched the game.

Reiner was one of your only friends that liked being around Zeke, which really baffled your mind as the only one who knew about your dirty laundry was Porco. Yet, even after two years of being together, Annie wouldn’t even try to start a conversation with Zeke the multiple times he was over at your place. Armin, being the sweetheart he was, tagged along with her, only saying hello or goodbye while making a beeline towards Annie’s room. Pieck, Marcel and Bertholdt also made sure to avoid interacting with him, each of them in their own ways.

You sighed, pressing the bridge of your nose. You didn’t have the time to worry about it that morning.

A hard hit from Reiner made Zeke miss the ball and turn around to retrieve it. This gave Reiner the chance to look around, waving at you when he noticed your presence. You gave him a small smile and waved back.

“Your girlfriend is here.”

Zeke turned around quickly, his grey-blue eyes finding yours. You hated how a smile crept up your lips even after the disastrous night you had spent. His boyish grin and friendly wave would always bring warmth to your chest, and that spoke about how much your heart still belonged to him.

Your eyes were so fixated on each other you didn’t notice Reiner chuckling softly at the way you were looking at each other. Walking around the court, he called up Zeke, startling him and shook his hand. You didn’t listen to what he was saying but after a short conversation, Reiner turned around, waving at you again and started walking out the court. Zeke gestured to join him and you nodded, getting up and walking to the court with your hands in your pockets.

The moment you stepped a foot inside the court, Zeke started walking to you and met you halfway. He grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your lips, humming happily to himself. You kissed him back half-heartedly, your hands still secure inside your pockets without an ounce of need to put them around his neck like usual.

“You look so beautiful,” he said once he pulled away, holding your face tenderly.

You gave him a strained smile.

“Why did you call me so early?” you sighed.

Zeke’s grin didn’t waver, instead pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Give me a second,” he said excitedly, before turning around and walking to the backpack that was against the wall. He left his tennis racket next to it and, after rummaging for a short while, he came back holding a baseball and a glove in his hand.

With a hand on the small of your back, he guided you until you were on the edge of the court. He carefully put the glove on your hand and ran back to the other edge of the court, both of you staying just on one side of the tennis court.

There was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to throw the glove away, stomp on it and demand answers from him but Zeke’s eager smile was nothing like you had seen before. He was really excited about this and even if you weren’t sure as to why , you felt compelled to follow along.

Zeke threw the ball at you and you took a couple of steps back to catch it with your glove. You winced in pain, your muscles still mad at you for drinking so much last night. You threw the ball as hard as you could but it didn’t reach your boyfriend, instead falling to the ground. Without saying a word, he shortened the distance between the two of you and threw the ball again.

A silent game of catch started between the two of you under the morning rays of sun. Seeing how happy Zeke was made you remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. He only smiled like that when he was around you, a huge grin on his face and a small couple of wrinkles on each side of his eyes. It was completely different from the way he smiled in social events and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing it was only you that could see him like this.

It had been almost two years since a junior that sat a few seats away from you at your History of Philosophy class had asked to take a look at your notes at the end of your second class. He confessed it was his third time taking the course as he has failed it twice already. It was his last chance to pass the course and he had seen you taking a lot of notes and answering questions right, hence he was asking for your help. You couldn’t help but giggle at the image of this tall junior asking for the help of a freshman but you agreed and even offered to help him prepare for the exam if he really needed it.

That was the first time he truly smiled at you. And since then you had been hooked.

From a hidden makeout session at the back of the library to him introducing you to his half-brother, you had suddenly become the ‘it couple’ on campus. Zeke always took you out to social gatherings along with his classmates, presenting you as his girlfriend and keeping an arm around your shoulders at all times, letting everyone know who you were with.

Time went by and he even took you to his grandparents’ house, a lovely old couple that lived on the edge of town. You had dinner with them and smiled as they went on and on about how much they loved and were proud of their grandson. As they told you endearing but slightly embarrassing stories about Zeke when he was a little kid, you couldn’t help but notice they didn’t mention his parents in any of the stories. When you went to the kitchen to help his grandmother bring the dessert you tried looking for a picture of his parents and didn’t find it either. But you knew better than to ask.

The conversation ran long and when you two noticed, it was already too late to drive back, so you both decided to stay at their house for the night. After his grandparents had gone to sleep, you sat in front of the chimney, sitting next to each other, your head on his shoulder and enjoying the soft music coming from his phone. Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ album was one of Zeke’s favourite albums and it was slowly starting to become yours as well.

A sniffle distracted your thoughts.

You pulled away immediately, kneeling and holding his face tenderly. It seemed Zeke had been crying for quite some time now and your eyes filled with worry.

“Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you whispered, your thumbs wiping the tears running down his cheeks to his beard.

“I miss him,” he mumbled.

“Your dad?” you asked softly.

Zeke shook his head and averted his gaze from you. You turned his head back to you again and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“You can talk to me, Zeke. Stronger together, right?” you said with a soft smile. He reciprocated it with a small nod.

Words fell from Zeke’s mouth like a broken dam, tears falling from his eyes quicker than you were able to kiss them away. You listened to him in silence, your fingers running across his dark blond locks, trying your best to soothe him as he tripped over his own words, painting a picture of his childhood.

He told you about their parents and their strong alliance with a political party when he was a kid. How they would talk to him about the party’s history and why he should be on their side, often getting irritated at him for not remembering all the details. He blamed himself for being too young to understand, for not paying enough attention when they talked to him about it. When a chance arrived for him to apply to a scholarship for middle school in a very prestigious private school, both his parents registered him, saying he should study hard to get that scholarship so he could start talking about the political party to the sons and daughters of the high class, so more people could support them.

But Zeke had never been good at school. He reminded you the reason you had met was that he had already failed a course twice, only salvaging it because you tutored him. So when he was ordered to get that scholarship, he studied day and night, sometimes not even going to bed because he wanted to make his parents happy and going to school without having slept even for a minute. But his scores were still low, igniting long and loud fights between his mom and dad, making him silently weep inside his bedroom as he listened to how much of a disappointment he was.

“You’re not a disappointment,” you interrupted him. His eyes that had been set on the chimney turned to you and he lifted the corners of his mouth.

You knew he didn’t believe you.

“They were taken by the police a few days before my scholarship exam. Turns out the political party they were into was… a bit radical.” He didn’t comment further and you thought it was best not to ask for details. “So I came to live with my grandparents. I was enrolled in public middle school and got a sports scholarship to get into university, hence why I’m a part of the swimming team.”

“Are they still…” your question died in your lips.

“In prison? No,” Zeke sighed, taking his glasses off and passing a hand across his face. “They got out after a couple of years. My mom died in a car accident shortly after and my dad remarried Eren’s mom. He lives with her now. Honestly, she’s a very sweet woman, she has always been kind to me. I don’t know how she stands him,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Even so, it’s okay to miss him, you know? Families are… complicated. So it wouldn’t be wrong for you to miss him from time to time.”

“I meant I miss Ksaver,” Zeke said, a sad smile on his lips. He took your hand in his, playing with it absentmindedly. “He was my science teacher at elementary school. He noticed how much I was struggling and how little sleep I was getting. He offered to tutor me some afternoons and we always ended up playing catch for a while before I had to go home. I think I was only able to go by because I could always look for spending my afternoons with him. We kept in touch when I went to middle school and he was always willing to help me out whenever I needed help with my classes or with the girls,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. “He lent me his jacket for my first date and he was the one I told about my first kiss with a girl in high school.”

You smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand softly.

“I wish I could have introduced you to him. But he… died, a couple of weeks after I started uni. Cancer. I never knew,” he said bitterly, biting the inside of his cheek. “So being here, listening to my grandparents tell you stories about when I was a kid… just made me remember him, you know? And shit— I really miss him.”

That night when you went to bed, you made sure to hold him a little tighter as he laid his body on top of yours. The feeling of his beard scratching your skin as he kissed your neck made you claw your nails on his muscular back. The room was filled with the sweetest breathy moans as you tried your best to be silent so you didn’t wake his grandparents up.

He pressed a long kiss on your lips before getting off of you, rummaging through his pants and trying to find a spare condom in his pockets. You waited as he put it on, fingertips gently tracing his forearms as a subtle reminder you were still there. Zeke hovered over you with a loving smile, his grey-blue eyes locked in yours making you feel as if you were the only woman he had ever even glanced at.

He slid into you, your lips parting as your body adjusted to his length. He started at a calm pace, his pelvis rubbing just right against your clit, making you see stars every time he moved. You held tightly on his muscular arms, moving your hips as you desperately craved for more.

It wasn’t long until he was pulling out of you, turning you on your stomach and thrusting inside of you again. It didn’t surprise you, he had always shown a preference for fucking you from behind.

Zeke’s hands were holding your waist tightly while he kept bucking his hips against you, his hot breath tickling your ear. The low grunts coming out of his mouth as he buried himself in you were all you could think about as you muffled your moans on the pillow. His fingers were digging on your skin, for sure leaving marks for you to find the next day, a hobby you had grown fond of ever since you started sleeping with Zeke. He was relentless, hips rutting against you without mercy, each thrust getting deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Shit, you give it so good to me, baby,” he grunted, bitting down on your shoulder. You whimpered, closing your fists on the sheets as you tried to arch your back even more to him. “Yeah, just like that— such a good girl to me.”

The way he increased his rhythm for a few seconds and then stilled behind you let you know he has reached his high. You felt as he rolled away from your body, lying on your side with a content smile, lips parted as he tried to regain his breath. You smiled softly at him and caressed his cheek with your knuckles.

Maybe it was a stretch, but you wished to have the power to stop him from ever getting hurt again. You wanted to protect that smile at all costs, not even letting the cold air touch him or anything that could ever threaten his well-being again. It was at that moment that you decided you would make sure he was the happiest man he could be as long as you were there.

As you saw Zeke smile as he threw the baseball, you remembered your vow. He was really the prettiest when he smiled. After your last throw, he caught it and gestured to you to come closer. He kissed you once again and this time you melted in his touch, the familiar taste of his lips taking you back to that night in front of the fire. He put the glove and baseball into his backpack and took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it.

“C’mon. Let's get breakfast.”

Finding an isolated spot on campus was easy, both of you sitting down under a tree. On your way there, Zeke had bought a couple of juice boxes from a vending machine and once you had gotten comfortable on the ground you realized he had packed a couple of sandwiches for both of you. You took one and smiled at him as a thank you.

“Have you thought about trying out for the baseball team? Bet you would do great there,” you commented, taking your first bite.

“I… I honestly haven’t played in forever,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “Hell, I hadn’t played like this since Ksaver died.”

“What changed?” you asked softly.

“Found this baseball while looking through my tennis stuff this morning as I was leaving to play with Reiner. So I brought them with me because…” he made a pause, looking down at his sandwich. “I wanted to play with you. I wanted to— to share this with you. You know how much it means to me and I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to do this with after all these years.”

You smiled at his words and right when you were leaning to kiss him, the memory of Yelena leaving his house hit you. Right. You had seen them, how had you forgotten about this?

Zeke noticed the way your smile dropped and furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“I saw her kissing you,” you said, in a makeshift stern voice. Zeke’s frown deepened.

“What?”

“Yelena. I saw you kissing Yelena last night when she left your house,” you said, the pressure on your chest making it hard to talk. You took a deep breath, trying to alleviate it.

“Wait, wait, last night? Where were you?” he asked, confused.

“I— a few houses away. I wanted to say hi but I saw her and— I saw you two kissing, Zeke, aren't you going to say anything?” you demanded, your voice breaking at the end.

“Baby, I was confused as to why you were saying this because we didn’t kiss. I have never kissed Yelena in my life.”

“Zeke, I saw you,” you said in a pained voice. “I fucking saw you and—”

“Wait, was that why you called?” he interrupted you. “I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I’m just having trouble understanding because we never kissed. The closest thing to that happening was Yelena kissing my cheek goodnight and that’s it.”

“But I—”

“You just said you were a couple of houses away. Don’t you think you could have confused a friendly kiss on the cheek with her kissing my lips? As if I would ever let her,” Zeke said, taking a sip of his juice. “She knows how much I’m in love with you. Hell, I’ve even told her how I plan to marry you once you graduate.”

You felt your cheeks heating at his words and then immediately shook your head, trying to focus.

“Porco saw you too.”

At this, Zeke’s calm expression turned into a disgusted one.

“Baby, please,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Porco will say anything to get you away from me. You know he’s in love with you, right?” he asked. You averted his gaze, looking down at your sandwich. “He’s so obvious about it. He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me enough for him to get a chance. Bet he kept insisting on you leaving me after you mistakenly believed Yelena kissed me last night.”

Memories of Porco’s arms around your body and his hazel eyes looking at you as he kissed your palm crept inside your head, guilt leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Zeke was right. You were a few houses apart and all you had seen was her kissing the corner of his mouth, never a full kiss on the lips. And on top of that, you had been drinking a lot. There was a big chance you had perceived the moment differently and… Porco had definitely egged you on your distrust.

“You did nothing wrong,” Zeke assured you, taking one of your hands in his. “You trust people too much, you’re too good. But please don’t believe Porco’s intentions are innocent in any way.”

You nodded, keeping your head down. At this, Zeke scooted over to your side, grabbing your face gently and kissing your forehead. You smiled at his action and lifted your face until your lips met. A chaste kiss was exchanged, making the both of you smile.

“I’m sorry for… insisting on this but can I ask you something else about last night?” you asked in a small voice.

Zeke nodded. “Sure, anything that will make you feel better.”

“Why was Yelena with you last night? Why did she leave so late?”

“Yelena was going through a rough time, stuff with her family and the fact she likes girls,” Zeke explained, biting down on his sandwich. “Her family is very religious so it’s… a touchy subject. She needed to talk and we did just that— talk until she was feeling better.”

You nodded, still with a small frown on your face.

“But I asked you, I— I called you and I asked if the movies were fun by yourself.”

“And I told you I always preferred watching movies alone,” Zeke reminded you. “I didn’t lie, I really do. I’ve told you this before. Besides, I didn’t just want to air out her business. It was private for a reason.”

“But her Instagram—”

“Darling, don’t mind her. Please, as far as I know, she could have made that post in case her family saw it. She’s not even out on campus, so… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But don’t think about it too hard. She’s my friend but trust me when I say she’s not worth your time.”

You felt stupid. So damn stupid for ever believing Zeke was cheating on you. All of Yelena’s Instagram photos made so much sense now that you knew she was trying to present herself as straight. Surely you would have preferred her to use any other guy than your boyfriend but… it just made sense. Since Zeke was the only one that knew about her sexuality, she made sure not to foolishly lead him on since he knew it was all a charade.

And the fact Zeke wasn’t asking about Porco— God, you didn’t deserve him. You had just admitted to being outside with Porco at three in the morning and he hadn’t batted an eye. He didn’t need proof or to interrogate you to trust you would never cheat on him.

“Stop worrying your pretty head around it. We’re good, okay?” he assured you, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Let's just forget about this whole thing, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

Zeke took one last bite of his sandwich, shaking his hands to get rid of the crumbs. He scooted until his back was against the tree and pulled you by your wrist, content in how you were giggling as he set you between his legs, with your back on his chest.

“Thank you for meeting me this early without notice. When I found Ksaver’s baseball I just knew I wanted to share that moment with you,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder and putting his arms around your waist. “I’m so weak when it comes to… remembering things from my past. But I know I can always count on you. You’re so much stronger than I am. Always have been.”

Your mind went back to Porco pushing you away after you tried to kiss him just a few hours ago.

“I don’t know about that,” you whispered.

“But you are. And that’s one of the reasons I’m so in love with you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder. “One of the reasons I plan to ask you to marry me as soon as you graduate. We’re stronger together, remember?”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“Yes,” you nodded with a soft smile .”We are.”

[rhetorical-ink]

Haikyuu!! SPOILERS: Chapter 401, How We Connect the Dots.

**PENULTIMATE SPOILERS BELOW**

I just posted a video with my live reactions to the chapter, but here are my highlights, because FURUDATE YOU MADMAN GENIUS. This chapter connected so much together. So, let’s do:

My Top 10 Thoughts on Haikyuu!! Chapter 401:

10. Of course. In true Furudate fashion, he has Kageyama block the spike from Hinata, BUT, what Kageyama doesn’t realize is all the training on the beach Shoyo has done to prepare for such a moment. And that heel kick! *swoons* Also, someone reacting to Season 4, Episode 9 of the anime, where Hinata kicks the ball back to himself called this happening all those months ago...Furudate is next level at foreshadowing. Not that we didn’t already know that.

9. Hey, remember how in the VERY FIRST chapter of Haikyuu!! Shoyo did this crazy run across the court to score? Yeah, Furudate knows we remember. And he pulls this -- and Kageyama’s beautiful reaction, only for --

-- Only for it to all be a DECOY. Kageyama, you made this monster, you know. I love that Shoyo has come all this way from wanting to score all the points to accepting that the decoy DOES have a vital role to play, and in this instance, it’s allowing Bokuto to score the winning point for the MSBY Black Jackals. Just look at that smile! And of course, Tanaka and Asahi KNOW the power of Hinata as a Decoy...because they’ve been in Bokuto’s shoes before. 

8. UGH, the aftermath of that moment is glorious, which will detail down below -- but I love Shoyo and Kageyama’s interaction, though. How they’re still keeping track of each other’s wins and losses, exhausting Miya, hilariously, and showing that they’re on equal footing now, after all these years. This chapter is just cementing the last several chapters’ worth of character development. 

7. ARE YOU SHIPPERS READY FOR YOUR FOOD?!

Because these next few pages were healing my shipper heart. I mean, yes, the Kagehina fanbase is raving right now, but let’s talk about THESE ships below, starting with:

Tsukishima x Yamaguchi:

So, Tsukishima, of course, is not sappy about any of this and just points out how the season’s just getting started (ready the fanfics, y’all). 

And of course, Yamaguchi wants to watch Tsuki play! Yachi says she’ll come too! I LOVE how just like he was with Akiteru, he doesn’t want them to come watch (even though we all know he’ll love it when they’re there). Now, some people have commented that Yamaguchi could be with Yachi, but y’all...Yachi is in Tokyo. Yamaguchi and Tsuki both live in Miyagi. I can’t wait for all the Sendai Frog/TsukiYama fanfics!

If you’re looking for an extra Kagehina crumble, just look at the end of this adorable exchange between Romero, smol adorable Rubens, and Shoyo (who perfectly crouches down to talk to him MY HEART I CAN’T), to see Kageyama notice that Shoyo can speak multiple languages...oh, honey! If only you know about Hinata and Pedro’s marathons of DBZ in Portugese and English! ^^

Also, Furudate WE SEE YOU. We see you being meta and implying that now Haikyuu!! is over, he’s moving on...Akaashi’s line about going forward hit me hard...it’s like he’s telling us, the fandom, that going on to start something new isn’t so bad. SO YOU SAY. 

BOKUAKA NATION -- WE CANON NOW, RIGHT?!

I love that Akaashi gets to interview Bokuto (IS HE GOING TO BE THE STAR of the Volleyball manga Tenma Udai is writing?! He would be PERFECT for it!) and how happy Akaashi looks, even if he and Bokuto realize how differently they view the term “normal.” 

ALSO, it’s implied above that Akaashi, Bokuto, and Tenma were going out for drinks...which now....we know that it’s just Bokuto and Akaashi, since Tenma was going home. Uhm, FAN FIC WRITERS ASSEMBLE!

I also love that Udai joins the club, along with Fukurodani’s coach and manager, of people who realize that Bokuto and Akaashi are weirdos but they are weirdos together, so it’s fine. 

Keeping the “Ship Train” going, we get little bits of Shimizu x Yachi from the bathhouse before the Inarizaki Match, where Kiyoko finally acknowledges she is okay showing her legs...thanks to Yachi’s words. I also find Suga wanting to know “the tea” on the situation to be adorable. 

AND FINALLY, YES, Y’ALL:

I was spoiled with Kuroo’s return, but seriously, Furudate, you saved him for the end here so INTENTIONALLY. 

Because OF COURSE Kuroo would work for the JVA. As a promoter. CONNECTING people...with Volleyball...because that’s the Nekoma way.

And FURUDATE ARE YOU SUGGESTING TO US THAT KUROO AND KENMA ARE BUSINESS PARTNERS AND COLLABORATORS BECAUSE MY KUROKEN HEART IS SOARING -- 

-- and let it be known Atsumu Miya rightfully doesn’t trust Kuroo, and neither does Sakusa. A nice SakuAtsu crumb where we actually see Sakusa agree with Miya without sacrasm or question! Poor Shoyo is a salesman’s dream, though. I mean, Kuroo does look a little sketchy in some of those shots...BUT....

6. Kuroo’s speech about sports was SO fitting. Seriously, everything he says here is BASICALLY what makes Haikyuu!! such a great series. I DID laugh out loud at the line about “hardly anybody dies.” 

*Flashbacks to “Dead Daichi” meme*

5. It’s taken us the ENTIRE series, but Kageyama finally talks to Kindaichi and Kunimi. This was so heartwarming, seeing Kageyama wanting to play WITH THEM. AS A TEAM. This made my heart expand three sizes. The character development on Kageyama, and Kindaichi, is through the roof.

I also LOVE Kunimi the most in these panels. Kunimi is a MOOD. 

Y’ALL. I’VE WAITED 400 CHAPTERS FOR THIS PANEL OF THESE THREE HAPPY AND BECOMING FRIENDS AGAIN.

4. I love that Hoshiumi doesn’t see Hinata as a Rival, but as someone that is going to help him show the rest of the world the strength of someone who doesn’t have height. I also find it interesting that we see the Japanese Olympic Coach walking out just as Hoshiumi gives us that beautiful gaze. So...does Hoshiumi know he’s going to be on the Olympic team, with Hinata, maybe? Foreshadowing, perhaps?

3. Okay, okay, I held it together until this page. 

It wasn’t Ushijima’s panel with Washijo that got me.

It wasn’t Saeko and Akane reuniting, though that was sweet. 

It wasn’t the three “Pure Captains” reuniting, though it made my heart happy.

It honestly wasn’t the five first years together, either. They’re all so happy and having a laugh at Kageyama’s expense, and as beautiful as that panel is.

SUGAWARA IN LINE TO GET KAGEYAMA’S AUTOGRAPH.

That is what got me. 

Him in line, so meekly, to get the autograph of his kouhai, the man Suga joked would have to tell about how much he learned from HIM when he was giving out interviews and autographs...I just...Sugawara made me cry. That is all. 

2. Then there’s this last page. 2021. 

"We overcame difficulties and stand here.”

Furudate really said “screw you” to Covid messing up the timeline.

Yes, seeing Kageyama and Hinata in their original jersey numbers was amazing, but I think we all saw that coming if these two happened to get on the Olympic team. 

What I want to focus on are the two countries we see included in the bottom corner here. We see: 

Brazil -- and some fluffy haired man carrying the flag for the team.

And we see the United States -- there’s several American Flags and stars and stripes on the shirts of the crowd, there.

SO, HEADCANON TIME: 

* Oikawa was on the Argentinean League, so could he play for Brazil? It’s not likely, but not impossible....BUT, I don’t think that’s it.

I don’t think Oikawa is on Japan’s National Team for the Olympics.

If he is on the Olympic Team, I think he’ll be on America’s. 

Why? Because, and this could be because I’m the biggest IwaOi shipper, but Iwaizumi was still in the United States with Ushijima’s father at the end of Chapter 395. And if he’s still there, there is no reason why Iwaizumi couldn’t be a physical trainer alongside Ushijima’s father for the U.S. Olympic team. And why wouldn’t Oikawa trek over to the States to be on the same team as Iwa-Chan’s working with? I’m probably wrong, BUT -- 

We also still need to see Seijoh’s banner, and as others have theorized, how fitting would it be to see Hinata, Kageyama, and (probably) Ushijima on the team facing Oikawa? I just....I’m betting money that Oikawa shows up in 402. I hope we at least see him on the Olympic Stage. OIKAWA DESERVES IT. 

1. So, who are we missing that hasn’t been shown yet?

We still need to see the rest of Nekoma (Lev, Yaku, Yamamoto, Kai....could they be in the stands or on the Japan team? I guess we’ll find out!)

We haven’t seen Daishou and Mika -- I would love to see them watching or narrating in the audience during the Olympic game.

And finally, yes, we’ve seen Tendo in the Chapter 395 flashback, but we’ve never seen what he’s DOING. Furudate has shown us with every character what they’ve been doing since the timeskip....EXCEPT TENDO. I’m calling it that he’ll appear one more time next chapter, too.

So....guys....I’m staying off of Social Media from Wednesday to Sunday next week, to prep for the last chapter and not be spoiled. I’m going to do a live reaction for YouTube, and I’ll post it here. You can see the one I did for 401 now. 

Furudate, this series has been immaculate. Time for one more round.

Let’s all cry together next week.

[thenamesseven]

Pairing: Lee Donghyuk x Reader

Genre: Comedy, romance.

Warnings: None, just some swearing.

Word count: 6.2k

Plot: You didn’t know how your best friend had managed to convince you to go to this blind date, you hated the idea and you knew it was not going to be succesful since the very beginning, specially since she refused to tell you who the guy was. If only you had known it was Lee Donghyuk, the only person in this world that seemed to hate you, you wouldn’t even have bothered to get dressed up in the first place.

Check out the NCT masterlist here for more oneshots and stories!

A/N: This is a part of an event I wanted to participate in! You can check the event’s masterlist here to see more upcoming oneshots!

Sitting on the passenger seat of your best friend's car you stared ahead at the american styled cinema, where the blind date she had organized for you would take place in. You kept internally swearing at yourself, trying to remember why you had agreed to something like this in the first place. Yuna had been insisting about this for an entire week and you had grown tired of her whining at some point so you had accepted that the only way to make it end had been accepting the blind date and here you were, having a mental breakdown while desperately trying to calm yourself down. You couldn’t lie though, the idea of opening the car door and running away before she could catch up to you had crossed your mind more times that you would like to admit but you knew Yuna would ran you over with her car to stop you if she had to, she had no mercy when it came to things like this. 

Dates had never been your forte and you didn’t need to be a genius to guess blind dates weren’t going to be suited for you either. It was not that you were socially awkward, in fact, you had always been the kind of person that attracted everybody’s attention unintentionally, your big, bright smiles always lighting up the room you were in. The cheerful yet easy-going aura that surrounded you 24/7 lifted up even the worse moods and your positive mindset gave you this chill flow that turned contagious, people basically loved to be around you.

Although the little confidence you seemed to have around your friends was quick to vanish when you found yourself alone with someone that was of the opposite sex. Compliments made you stutter, innocent caresses made your eyes zero on the ground underneath your feet and flirting turned your face red. Everyone thought it was cute, guys kept muttering how their heart melted when you turned so shy around them but you honestly didn’t like it, in fact, it only made you feel even less confident when any of those things happened. Nobody noticed it made you feel uncomfortable, that the constant fidgeting that you unconsciously did when all of those things happened wasn’t because you were too shy but because you wanted to get out of there. You tended to avoid all those kinds of interactions at all cost and that implied avoiding dates. Being single is alright anyways, you didn’t feel an urgent need to change that.

So again, why the hell were you here then?

“Ah-ah” The sudden voice of Yuna, the one to blame about your current situation, made you jump on your seat, not having expected her to speak up out of nowhere. Your hand moved away from the door handle as if it had burned you and your eyes closed defeated while you slumped back against the leathered seat “Don’t even think about running away” Her warning made you whine, face scrunching up in dislike which earned you a strong slap on your arm.

“Ow!” You screamed shocked, opening your eyes to look at her in disbelief “What was that for? I wasn’t going to run away!” 

Struggling to keep her serious face on, Yuna glared at you “You’re going to ruin your make up if you keep frowning so much!” She scolded, rolling her eyes when you lied at her “Please (Y/N), we both know you suck at lying so let’s just ignore you were trying to open that door and started running as if you were possessed” 

“Please Yuna?” You asked quietly, almost ready to kneel down on your seat and start seriously begging “I’ll do all the house chores for a week, I’ll even do your laundry” When Yuna shook her head, you sighed in frustration, knowing she was determined to make this blind date happen no matter what. “What’s so special about this date that you’re not letting me back down from this?” 

“I’m doing it for you, I’m sure you’ll have fun in this one” Yuna said gently, her smile turning sweet as she faced you, reaching out to rest one of her hands on your shoulder so she could give it a soft squeeze “Trust me, I’ve never lied to you, have I?”

“Well” You said quietly, giving up as you relaxed, a smirk appearing on your lips “Actually…”

“Get out of my car!” She screamed, not letting you finish the sentence that would refutate her last question “Take your ass into that cinema and have fun tonight, you’ll tell me all the details later!” 

Opening your mouth, you were about to let out another little rant full of complaints and whines but Yuna, who had obviously seen this coming, sped up and left you completely alone in the parking lot. A cold breeze blew right on time, making your body shiver as you slid your sweaty hands in your pockets, your brain still trying to weigh the decisions you had in hand.

Enter the cinema and attempt to enjoy your blind date or be painfully murdered by Yuna.

You were too young to die, your daily life was awkward enough so why not add a bit more of it for a few hours?

“I’m seriously going to kill her when I get home” You muttered out loud, fixing your jacket as you forced yourself to start walking in the direction of the cinema. One step at a time, moving against your will.

Right when you approached the door and reached out to pull it open, someone else pushed it from the inside, almost hitting your face with it. Ready to scold whoever had been so careless, you put your baddie face on and rested your hands on your waist copying the position Yuna used to scold you whenever you did something wrong. Although it was a couple who walked out, hands intertwined and eyes too focused on the other to even realize you were standing there. You opened your mouth to say something but your heart clenched just in time to stop your own voice, feeling bad for almost interrupting the little moment they were having. You could only look at the both of them as they walked away, a quiet sigh exiting your lips when you felt a spark of jealousy in your chest, being single might not be as fun as you wanted it to be, if only dating was simple as that couple made it be....

"Get out, I'm late!" 

Interrupting your train of thoughts, a presence behind you and apparently willing to head inside the cinema at light's speed pushed past you without even looking back to see if he had made you fall down.

"Hey!" You shouted, stumbling back but luckily resting your hand against a nearby wall to steady yourself, frowning at the masculine figure that ran inside the cinema. He was now the new target of your inner frustration, which had gotten so much stronger that you didn’t even realized that voice didn’t belong to a stranger but to someone you fairly knew. You caught a glimpse of his long black coat and his fluffy hair but it still didn’t ring any bells to you "Ugh, why so-"

Dusting off your clothes, your eyes landed on the watch you had chosen to wear tonight and when you saw the time, your heart literally stopped beating. You had arrived fifteen minutes earlier, how were you late all of a sudden? 

"Excuse me!" You exclaimed as you ran past the cute couple, barely managing to dodge them as you rushed inside as well. Their complaints were cut off by you closing the cinema's door behind you but you weren't fast enough to stop your own feet before walking into the guy that had made his way in before you, the one that ran into you like a freaking rugby player. 

"Ow!" He jumped away when your face slammed the back of his coat, sending waves of pain through your nose. Your hands flew to your face and you bit down hard onto your lower lip to not start swearing like a truck driver. "Dude, watch where you're going!"

"Where am I going?" You said in pain, still covering your face as you tried to get rid of the couple of tears that had appeared in your eyes "What were you doing standing there like a creep?" You heard him groan and the sound only seemed even more familiar but you still couldn't guess who he was. 

"Wait" Surprised by the sound of your voice, Donghyuk turned around so fast that he almost hurt himself. His eyes opened wide and his mouth opened and closed as if he was a fish out of the water. "(Y/N)? Is that you?" At the sound of your name you couldn’t help but peek up curiously, willing to see who was the one to blame for almost breaking your nose. 

The first thing you saw were the white and spotless adidas he was wearing, they seemed new unlike the ones you had at home which were totally worn out from how much you’ve been wearing them. Then your eyes moved up without missing the way his black tight jeans hugged his legs, leaving little to nothing to your imagination as the white oversize shirt he was wearing left you wondering what could be hiding underneath it.

“Are you checking me out?” Donghyuk asked scoffing, still looking at you “Gross”

“D-Donghyuk?” His name came out of your lips in a quiet whisper, stuttering it. You sniffed quietly, rubbing your nose one last time before putting your hands back down into your pockets “What are you doing here?” Your question brought frowns up to both of your faces, this was why you tended to avoid dates, what kind of question was that in the first place?

“I could ask the same thing to you” He replied smugly, shrugging as he turned his full attention on to you. 

Getting slightly self-conscious, you gathered all the courage that was still remaining in you and crossed your arms over your chest, slightly raising your chin a little so you would look a bit more intimidating instead of looking like a lost puppy. 

“I’m here because I’m going on a blind date” You said, your lips unconsciously scrunching up in a cute pout “Why?”

Donghyuk and you weren’t best friends, you didn’t even know if the two of you were even close to be friends to begin with. He was in most of your classes which had forced the two of you to interact a couple of times but he always seemed to be kind of unwilling when it came to maintaining a conversation with you. You didn’t know why but you always assumed he just didn’t like you, your parents had always told you not everybody was going to want to be your friend and he, apparently, was one.

“A blind date?” Donghyuk started laughing at your words, looking at you as if he had just heard the funniest thing in the universe, hands resting upon his stomach as he slightly bent down a little bit. After almost five seconds where you were seriously considering he might have lost his mind, Donghyuk’s smile disappeared and was replaced by a straight line. “You’re kidding me, right?” Blinking, you could only stare at his face feeling extremely confused, was he mad now? How did he go from laughing his lungs out to look as if he wanted to punch you?

“Are you bipolar?” You blurted out, not even thinking before making the question.

“Are you dumb?” He reached out to knock on your head gently, making you flinch underneath his knuckles every time they met the side of your skull “Sounds empty to me so yeah, you might be”

“Ow!” You pushed him away, not willing to be knocked on the head again, throwing daggers with your eyes at him “What’s wrong with you? Did you lose your mind or something!?” 

“Please tell me Yuna did not set you up for that date” He whined, stomping one of his feet down onto the floor as he ran his fingers through his hair, kind of messing it up a little bit. Stress was evident on his face now and you were too busy wondering how could he go through so many emotions in such little time to remember you still had to answer him “(Y/N)? Are you even listening to me!?” He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, bringing you out of your short trance to meet his once again.

“She did….Why?” You replied, slightly tilting your head, looking at him expectantly to see which emotion will you be able to see on his face this time.

It was frustration. 

“Why? Why!?” He exclaimed, resting his hands on his hips, eyes as open as ever as he stared down at you “Mark! I’m so going to kill him” He fumed, not answering your question, confusing you even more with his random answer.

“Mark? What does your best friend have to do with this?” You asked, reaching up to scratch the back of your head, feeling extremely lost in this conversation. 

Donghyuk whined once again “You’re really are dumb, aren’t you?” He said looking like he was about to cry from how angry he was “Mark and Yuna are dating, they obviously set us up on purpose!” The lady at the front desk flinched a little bit when he raised his voice even more, you smiled apologetically at her and bowed your head lightly, apologizing for his behaviour.

Now it made sense why Yuna had refused to even tell you the name of the guy you had to meet. 

“Don’t you trust my taste?” She had asked with a cute pout, one she knew you wouldn’t be able to resist “He’s a good guy! You’ll have so much fun with him” Yuna giggled mischievously, reaching out to grab both of your hands so you could keep your attention on her “And he’s quite handsome too, you’ll thank me for this”

“How would I find him in that place though? I don’t even know how he looks like” You had complained, looking at her, knowing she already had an answer for that.

“You’ll know when you get there, don’t worry about that!”

Yuna’s giggles and words hadn’t been suspicious back then but now that you replayed the conversation in your head, you saw the obvious signs of her pulling you into one of her naughty plans. She was surely going to hear a good scolding from you as soon as you set one foot into your apartment, oh, she was going to regret this so hard.

“Quite handsome my ass” You mumbled pouting, voice so low that Donghyuk didn’t even hear you over his own frustration. Glancing at him, you couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his angry typing, if he kept touching his phone screen that hard the phone would end up breaking for sure.

“He’s not picking up or answering to my texts” He told you, sighing defeated, pinching the bridge of his nose “He’s so dead when I get home”

“Yuna’s not going to pick up either, don’t bother to try” You informed him, standing there as more people walked inside, willing to have the fun you had wanted to have until you found out who was supposed to be your companion for the night.

“And what are we supposed to do now?” He asked reaching down into his pocket and fishing out what seemed to be two tickets for a movie “I already bought the tickets” 

His words brought a frown to your face “What if I didn’t like the movie you chose?” You asked pouting at him. You had been dying to check out the new comedy romance that came out not too long ago in which your favorite actor, Cha Eunwoo, starred as the main male character. Donghyuk didn’t even think about choosing that one for sure.

“Yes, thank you Donghyuk for buying the tickets, I could have paid for mine” He said in a high pitched voice, trying to imitate yours “I didn’t know you were the one I was being set up with, I would have made you pay for everything if I had-” Not letting him finish his sentence, you used your purse to hit Donghyuk’s side as hard as you could. “Ow! What was that for?” Donghyuk complained, watching you stealing one of the tickets from his hand as you walked inside the cinema without saying something else, not even waiting for him “(Y/N)! Hey! Hey!”

The people around you probably thought you were having a lovers quarrel….

If the only knew.

----------

Plopping down onto your designated seat, you leaned back against it letting out a soft sigh, keeping your eyes glued to the huge white screen situated in front of you while Donghyuk occupied the seat besides yours.

“If someone we know sees us together, you’re dead” He grumbled, tapping his foot against the floor at a speed that surely wasn’t human “I can’t believe we’re doing this” Donghyuk whispered, shaking his head, looking disappointed in himself.

“You already bought the tickets” You answered shrugging “You would have wasted your money if we had decided to not watch it”

“At least you got popcorn” He muttered without even glancing your way, automatically reaching out to put his hand into the popcorn you just bought.

But before he succeeded in stealing some, you managed to move it away earning another glare for him, if looks could kill, you would have been buried already “I bought this” Despite your words and your strong feelings against him eating the popcorn you bought, you quickly regretted saying it when you remembered he had bought the tickets before you could even think about paying for yours. Besides, he looked as if he could kill you right now and you weren’t going to take the risk of eating something he wanted while sitting in a dark room for two hours more or less.

“Thank you” He said quietly, turning his glare into a fake sweet smile, shoving a bunch of your sweet and delicious popcorn into his mouth and absolutely ignoring the glare and pout on your face as you looked at him.

“What movie are we watching?” You asked him, keeping your eyes on the screen as you also started eating, at this point, there would be no popcorn left when the movie started.

“I told Jaemin to get me the tickets for that Eunwoo’s movie, I know all girls are crazy about him and knew my date would have enjoyed watching it” He explained shrugging, surprising you, he had definitely put more effort than you had expected him to for this date.

After that, Donghyuk and you stayed quiet. The snacks the two of you bought were enough of a distraction to not feel awkward with the silence that had settled down between the two of you while you waited for the lights to turn down. There was no conversation when the popcorns were almost over either so you busied yourself with the trailers that were being played, getting hyped at some movies, thinking you would definitely have to come with Yuna to see them if you didn’t murder her tonight. 

A few minutes later the movie started playing and you had to admit you were kind of excited about it. Even if it hurt your ego to admit it, Donghyuk had been kind of sweet, choosing a movie that would surely bore him out instead of picking a horror or an action one that would have put you to sleep in seconds. He had known a romance movie was a safe choice for a date and you silently gave him credit for that, whoever ended up going on a date with him after tonight’s disaster was surely kind of lucky. 

Although things started getting kind of weird and alarms started ringing in your head when you were almost thirty minutes into the movie and Cha Eunwoo, who was supposed to be one of the main characters, hadn’t appeared yet. The starting had thrown you off a little, there was no high school and no girls falling in love with Eunwoo and you definitely accepted the two of you were sitting in the wrong movie when the guy that showed up seemed to be running away from something supernatural that ended up killing him.

Damn, you would have been in tears if that had been Eunwoo. 

“Uh…” You didn’t know if you should point it out but one glance at Donghyuk told you he seemed to be as uneasy as you were about this entire thing “I think we walked into the wrong room” You whispered, avoiding to lean closer to him. However, when he didn’t even glance your way, you assumed he was either deaf, ignoring you or too into the movie to realize you were talking to him. Moving as quietly as you could, in order to not disturb anyone around you, you leaned in closer to Donghyuk’s ear, making sure he would hear you this time “Donghyuk” You called him out again.

He didn’t shout but his body moved faster than you could react and in a second, all the popcorn that had been left in the container placed between the two of you rained down on your heads. Donghyuk had flinched too hard and his arms had automatically reached up in the air, making the container fly and spilling its content on the two of you just right when one of the ghosts that were apparently haunting his home scared the main character.

“What the fuck (Y/N)?” He asked, serious as ever as he turned his head to look into your eyes. You could feel tears gathering in your eyes as you bit your lip as hard as you could, avoiding to start laughing your lungs out at what you had just seen. You should have recorded it, Donghyuk scared was the funniest thing you’ve ever seen in your life “Are you trying to murder me or something because I ate your popcorn?” 

“Maybe” You only said, afraid that if you spoke for longer you would inevitably started laughing and get your ass kicked out of the room.

“Well you almost accomplished your mission” He said letting out a soft sigh, placing his hand on his chest as his heart kept pounding incredibly hard “Jesus, hanging out with you is not being good for my health at all” He whispered, shaking his head, looking down at his knees. 

“Didn’t you get the tickets for that romance movie though?” You finally decided to ask, still close to him to keep your voice as quiet as you could, Donghyuk’s eyes were already back on the screen, his hand eating the popcorn that had fallen on him “I don’t see any romance going on here” 

When he turned around to face you, his face was in a mix of still offended by his previous yet faint heart attack and a silent ‘are you dumb?’ question “Well the guys wanted to organized this entire thing, I trusted them and right after I saw who Mark had paired me up with I knew Jaemin hadn’t bought the tickets for the movie I wanted either”

“So you’re telling me I have to seat here and-”

“SHHH” Someone from the seats above yours interrupted your sentence, probably fed up with your chatting. 

Donghyuk looked over his shoulder and just when you thought he was about to defend you he opened his mouth and surprised you -not for the best- once again “I know right, she’s annoying” You couldn’t hold yourself back though and slapped his arm, ignoring the way he frowned and glared at you while you accommodated yourself back on your seat. 

“Idiot” You whispered, rolling your eyes, letting him devour the popcorn YOU bought for YOURSELF, deciding to just focus on the movie and on planning how you were going to get rid of Yuna’s corpse once you killed her.

When your eyes returned to the screen, the main character was currently going downstairs, lights turned off and a flashlight in his hand. You rolled your eyes at the cliche situation and again mentally thought why always people in horror movies thought it was a good idea to check a weird noise without carrying something that could help you defend yourself. In fact, if it was you in that movie, you would have locked yourself in your bedroom and yeeted yourself out of the window. 

No murderer or ghost was going to end your life. Not if you were managing to get through this horrible date.

---------

“Can we grab some food?” You asked as soon as the two of you were out of the movie  room, ignoring the way the rest of the couples glanced your way and chuckled, obviously amused by how the two of you had behaved during the entire movie. Donghyuk would never admit it but he had been as scared as you, miraculously none of you had shitted your pants.

“No” Donghyuk quickly rejected, not even daring to look at you “Let me just take you home and end this horrible date, please?” 

“But I’m hungry” You pouted behind him, using your whiny voice to get on his nerves even more

Donghyuk stopped walking suddenly, making you walk straight into his back once again. This time though you managed to get a quick whiff of the cologne he had chosen to wear tonight, to say he smelled nice would be a total misunderstandment. If it wasn’t for his shitty attitude towards you, you would have to admit that he could have totally stolen your heart away with his looks and that killer smile he always carried around when he was joking with his friends. Unfortunately, his dislike towards you was enough to let you know the two of you would never end up having a relationship like that, you would have to settle with him standing you throughout the rest of the night.

He was quick to turn around though, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilize you in case you lost your balance “You’re not going to stop whining until we get something to eat, right?” He asked, eyes looking straight into yours.

“Exactly” You replied with an innocent smile on your face before you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to look as intimidating as he did.

Although, in Donghyuk’s eyes, you only looked even cuter.

Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair before he turned around again to start heading to the parking lot “Alright, we’ll get some food before going home then” 

“You’re the b-”

“But you’re paying” He quickly interrupted, walking away even faster before you could start complaining about this newfound information.

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

”If you drop ketchup on my leather seats, you’re walking all the way back home” 

Donghyuk warned as he stopped the car in a deserted place, leaning back against his seat comfortably once he had turned off the ignition. You hummed quietly, letting him know you heard his threat while you also started taking his order out of the paper bag carefully, trying not to drop any food in his precious car. You were kind of far from home and knew he wouldn’t hesitate to make you walk all the way back.

“I won’t, I won’t” You replied with a small smile, breaking the paper bag to put it down on your lap in case some of the sauce of your hamburger dripped down and stained something while you ate it.

Just like it had happened in the cinema, a new silence settled down between the two of you now that you were too focused on eating your food, it wasn’t uncomfortable though, you just preferred eating in silence rather than arguing constantly. While you ate dinner, you noticed a few other cars had parked around his, keeping enough distance to not be able to see who the people inside the vehicle were but still making you frown with curiosity. It wasn’t until you took another look around the place that you finally recognized where Donghyuk had parked.

“Isn’t this the place where people come to make out?” 

Donghyuk choked on the fries he was eating. 

You hadn’t really done it intentionally, you didn’t even know he was eating when the question had suddenly flew out of your mouth. He kept coughing as you reached out to pat his back with one of your hands, holding your drink with the other to not drop it in the car and make the situation even worse than it already was.

“What kind of question is that (Y/N)? What the fuck?” He asked, voice hoarse as he cleared his throat, still feeling the food stuck in a place it shouldn’t be.

“Are you planning to make out with me?” You asked jokingly, wiggling your eyebrows at him. Maybe it was the lack of light but you thought you had seen a hint of a smile in Donghyuk’s face when you said that, however he was quick to turn his face away and look out of the window, avoiding any kind of eye contact.

“You’re nuts” He muttered, successfully hiding the amusement in his voice, doing it so well that it actually made a frown appear on your face.

You had been thinking about this for the entire night and even though you had tried to play his comments off as jokes, his dislike and rejection towards you was starting to be a little bothering. You hadn’t felt that bad during the date, you haven’t even felt as awkward as you usually did so the time you spent with him hadn’t been that bad. Did he dislike you so much that he couldn’t even bear the thought of making those kinds of jokes with you?

“What? Am I that ugly?” You were supposed to sound amused, your words had been a simple joke in response to what he had said but Donghyuk couldn’t ignore the soft sourness in them, the way you scoffed just told him he had said enough for tonight. “I guess I crossed a line there” You muttered with a sigh

“What are you talking about now?” He asked, turning around again to face you, this time with a frown on his face, a sincere one.

“I mean, I know you didn’t expect to go on a date with me and that our friends were only trying to prank us but you could at least try to hide your discontent a little bit” You confessed, eyes glued to the front glass even though you could feel him staring at you from the driver’s seat “Like I tried my best to be nice and all you did was shove me away, this didn’t need to be a date, we could have just tried to hang out as friends” 

Donghyuk knew he had fucked up big time as he listened to your rambling and his attitude had ended up hurting your feelings when he never had any intentions of doing that. He actually couldn’t help but feel bad because of it, staying quiet for a few minutes before he finally decided to say something.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was being that big of a jerk” He said quietly, looking down at his lap before he took the fries he hadn’t eaten yet “Want to eat my fries?” 

You didn’t know if he was either joking or being genuinely serious and honestly, you also didn’t know which was worse “I just want to know why you hate me so much” You scoffed tired of beating around the bush, ready to face the explanation you were finally craving for.

“You’re kidding me, right?” He huffed, suddenly looking offended “Like this has to be the ultimate prank of the night” Donghyuk actually turned around on his seat so he could face you with most of his body, eyes dead serious as if he was planning to stare straight into your soul “Why would you think I hate you (Y/N)?”

You blinked confused “Uhm...Do you want me to narrate with detail all the reasons you gave me tonight or….?”

“I don’t hate you” He said sighing, true that he might have been an absolute jerk but he had his reasons “I mean how did you expect me to behave right after you rejected me?” 

“What?” 

“Especially after how you did it” He kept rambling “I mean, maybe I expected a ‘I'm sorry you’re not my type?’ But not for you to throw the letter away without even giving it a second glance” 

“A letter?” You asked, your brain searching for any memories that would resemble something similar to what he was talking about. It only took you a few seconds before you remembered something, it had happened at the beginning of the year and you hadn't paid too much attention to it. During one of your classes, when you opened one of your books during a class, you had found a note but what was written in it had made you assume it was a joke. “Wait, are you talking about the note that said...I like your smile, I like your ass, you should date me, I’m a guy with class….Go out with me, you won’t forget, I’ll buy you food and spoil you to no end?” When Donghyuk stayed in silence as you recited the poem you had found, you guessed he must have been the author behind it. “i thought it was a joke Donghyuk”

“Well, the guys helped me write it and….” Now that he had listened to it from another’s person mouth the poem didn’t sound as good as his friends had made it sound “I-”

“I didn’t even know it was you” You said exasperated “Like Haechan? I’ve never heard somebody call you like that?” 

“My friends do?” 

“And I should know that because…..?”

Donghyuk had to admit his strategy to ask you out had completely sucked and he could now understood why you thought he had hated you, you didn’t even know you had rejected him in the first place “I’m not listening to the guys again” He muttered under a whisper “Not in my life” He added with a deep sigh

“Yeah, I think you should avoid doing that” You replied with a small smile, watching him drown in embarrassment as he leaned his head back against the seat to stare at the car’s ceiling “So all this time you just thought I rejected you?”

“Well, what was I supposed to think?” He asked hiding his face behind both of his hands, making sure you wouldn’t see the soft blush that was creeping up his neck, you couldn’t help but chuckle at that

“You guys are such huge idiots” You finally said, deciding to break the tension in between the two of you as you started laughing, really amused by the entire situation.

Donghyuk peeked at you through his fingers, feeling even more embarrassed but also kind of relief now that you didn’t seem to be as upset as you were before. He was still shy and felt like a complete idiot for everything but your happiness was just as contagious as ever and he found himself smiling behind his hands, shaking his head in embarrassment. 

“Please let me take you out on another date? I promise it will be way better, at least just to make up for this horrible hang out?” He asked mortified, groaning as he hit the back of his head against his seat again.

“You’re kidding me, right?” You asked back, repeating the same words he had used a few minutes ago.

“Was it that bad? Did you really hate it?” He removed his hands from his face to look at your face, he really did seem like he was regretting everything he had said tonight “I promise I won’t let the guys plan it again” 

“I’m kidding, I’ll go on another date with you” You said chuckling, watching him visibly relax “But next time…”

“Mhm?” 

“You’re paying for the food” Donghyuk allowed himself to finally smile at your words, shaking his head as he chuckled. He nodded at your condition, going back to eating his fries.

“And we’ll make out in here” His so unexpected words made you choke on the drink you had been sipping and the fact that you tried your hardest to not spit it out your mouth only made it worse because it ended up coming out of your nose and unfortunately, staining his leather seats. 

“(Y/N) WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST TELL YOU!?” He shouted alarmed, throwing napkins your way, making some of them land on your face.

“IF YOU HADN’T SAID ANYTHING I WOULDN’T HAVE SPILLED THAT THROUGH MY NOSE” You shouted back, breaking the calm and relaxed atmosphere of the place, unknowingly interrupting multiple make out sessions.

If someone would have told the couples around you that the two of you were on your first date, they would have surely replied ‘You’re kidding me, right? Those two hate each other’ but in fact, time would tell that the joke was actually on them and nothing, not even Donghyuk’s leather seats getting food stains, would tear the two of you apart.

[silverhallow]

I'm really sorry you're feeling a bit low and don't know what to do or if you should keep on doing what you like(d). I'm pretty sure the momentary lack of response has nothing to do with you or the quality of your work though! I can only imagine how lonely it can feel out there in the virtual world/social media and every missing like, comment or reaction might seem like a rejection or dislike. Please don't forget there might be a 1000 different reasons... part/1

... (that have absolutely nothing to do with you!) why you don't get this or that reaction. People might be too busy, stressed out, have work/family problems or are going through a little rough patch. I get it, we got so used to measure success with likes and comments that a lack thereof can seem like a failure. But it is not! Try no to worry too much about it, treat yourself to a little 'me-time' taking care of you and wait a bit before you get back to it all. part/2

Who knows, maybe tomorrow or in a few days or next week everything falls back into place and people are ready to show you their appreciation. Btw, posting how you feel instead of disappearing without a word is so important so I applaud you for that! Thank you for this little reminder to show our appreciation and gratitude more vocally. part/3

So, since I'm already here, I'm gonna use this opportunity to tell you how much I appreciate everything you do! Every single one of your fics/AUs is such a joy to read and it amazes me how you keep on coming up with new stories and ideas. Don't ever doubt yourself or dare to think anything is boring or dull! Your great👏🏼👑😊😘(was looking for a bowing emoji but alas didn't find one, hence the crown😉😂) part/4

Wow Nonnie, thank you for such a long ask! i think this might be the longest one i've ever gotten!!

i totally understand that people are busy and have far better things to do than read my work. I think i'd just gotten so used to have at least one comment the following morning that when i didn't it sort of made me confuse and wonder if it was me. Like never apologise to me for not reading my work yet... i get it. I post like a machine and you guys have lives (and yes i am human... May I can practically see you screaming that I am a robot...)

Because of the way that things had been going, there was less engagement in my asks unless people were wanting sneak peaks and I was doing the rose game... or it was me asking you guys for things, made me honestly wonder if I was the problem.

Work's been a lot lately, and not even because i'm busy but because of the opposite. i've got a lot of pressure on one case i'm working and it's stressful and people don't seem to be supportive of that but cause I'm not actually in my usual department it's even harder.

I am very much alone at work. the nearest person to me that does the same job to me is a 110 miles away.

I used to measure the success of my stories on hits and kudos and the likes but after a minor meltdown over a year ago I stopped caring about them. I was getting interactions for a set of regulars (some of whom no longer comment on my work but I think still read it...) and that was enough.

but because i'm feeling so out of sorts with my professional life, i've thrown myself into this a bit more and it's...crept in here.

seriously like sometimes to a writer just the one comment can lift their spirits. we do this for free... like I spend a lot of my free time doing this, (and not free time as I write at work as well) so when the comments and the interactions stop... it makes me wonder why i'm doing this.

I don't have my comments moderated and i allow guests to post comments, and I have my asks on Anon so that people can share without feeling shy.

I am always grateful for the interaction and it's what makes it all the more worth it.

I am not the sort of person who can keep in her feelings, it will either show on my face or i have to get them off my chest or they will actually consume me. i've had so many issues in the past with no opening up and sharing so it's why I will sometimes have these little wobbles and rambles about it but usually below a cut because not everyone wants to read about my anxiety and my issues.

but i think we all need the reminder, I used to be so bad at it but I have to practise what i preach, it's why I will send my favourite author's asks about their stories, wanting to know some of the minor details, wanting to know more.

its why i will reply to people's posts and why i will ALWAYS reply to comments! even if its a thank you for reading because it's so important that people know we've read them!

But thank you so much for your lovely and sweet comments in part 4. it is wonderful to know that people aren't sick of me yet... I couldn't do this without you guys because I've spent enough years with the stories in my head and not writing them down and you guys constantly wanting new AUs and new stories is the reason I am still doing this and i am onto my 284 Bridgerton Story...

Thank you for reaching out and saying all these lovely things and to everyone else who reached out yesterday. I am feeling better... not masses but a bit. it's good to know that you guys still appreciate me.

[woah-were-halfway-there]

Our Last Summer - B. Boeser

A/N: just a girl who thought she’d try writing for a different player. Shocking, I know. Also this is an OC and I love her, enjoy!

Yes, after the ABBA song. Also shoutout to my least favourite Taurus @brockadoodles for convincing me to follow through with writing and posting this and being an A+ beta reader always.

Word Count: 9.2k

To Brock, summer was the best time of year. As much as he loved hockey season, summer gave him the chance to unwind, relax and spend time with his friends and family. It also allowed him to be at one of his favourite places all the time, the lake. 

The lake was a sanctuary of sorts for him, his little piece of paradise. Even before he moved to Vancouver, he spent every summer there, which is why he ended up buying a home on that lake to spend his off-seasons in. It also happened to be where he got to see Lennon—the only place. 

Brock and Lennon first met almost ten years ago. Right away, Brock could tell that she wasn't from the area based on her lack of a so-called Minnesotan accent but eventually learned how her family started vacationing on the lake the same year they were both turning fourteen. 

Lennon's family has been back every year since. How she and Brock first crossed paths was on the beach one fateful afternoon at the end of June. Brock was standing in line behind her, waiting to buy a bottle of water while she ordered ice cream from the man operating the little stand. Once Lennon was handed her snack, she turned around and went to walk away but didn't realize Brock was standing right there and ended up knocking into him, which resulted in her ice cream spilling down the front of the t-shirt he wore. She quickly grabbed some napkins and tried to clean up the mess she made all over him, but he just laughed it off and told her it was fine. 

The two of them parted ways after that, not thinking much of the interaction and didn't cross paths again until the following summer. When they did meet again, it was on that same beach, at the same ice cream stand, but Lennon didn't spill anything that time. Instead, the pair just stared at each other as they were both hit by the most intense wave of deja vu either of them had ever experienced. After that initial shock, they talked and properly introduced themselves because what were the chances they'd run into each other again. After commenting on how he assumed Lennon wasn't from there, Brock learned that she only came to Minnesota in the summertime with her parents and twin brother because her dad was from there and her parents owned a lake house they wanted to retire to one day. It was one of Lennon's favourite places to be and had her looking forward to summer every year because of it. 

That summer, Brock and Lennon saw each other on multiple occasions after the run-in on the beach, and a friendship gradually began. That friendship only grew with each summer that passed as Brock's friends became Lennon's friends too after being invited to hang out with them as they went boating, jet skiing, exploring and had bonfires each night. These activities made Lennon's summers even more memorable than before. 

However, as they got older, things began to change. 

The summer before Lennon turned 19 was the last summer she spent entirely at the lake for a few years. Brock had already turned 19 that February, and Lennon would be doing the same in early November. However, that fall, she began going to university and spent the summers working. Lennon didn't get as much time off but still managed to squeeze in at least two weeks at the lake to spend with her family, friends, and, of course, Brock. 

Four years later, once Lennon graduated from her bachelor's program, she returned to the lake for the whole summer. Lennon also mainly spent that summer with Brock as he sat with her for hours while she applied to various jobs in her field and did phone interviews with possible employers. It was odd for him, though, because it wasn't until then, Brock realized how even though he felt like he knew Lennon very well, he hardly knew anything about her life outside of the lake. Sure, he knew that she took English and Literature at university, but he didn't know what school she attended. He also didn't know where her family lived the rest of the year. Brock only knew Lennon and summer. 

There was a massive disconnect between the two of them when they weren't in their little summer bubble. Brock and Lennon didn't speak when they weren't at the lake. They had each other's phone numbers, but the thought of using it while he was in Vancouver felt foreign, and although Lennon did cross his mind, he knew the two of them would pick up where they left off like they did every summer once both of them returned to the lake. 

That's what happened last summer too. Brock and Lennon were reunited on her first day back and spent almost every day together, seeing as it had been four years since the last full summer she spent in Minnesota. It was a summer to remember for sure. They somehow became even closer, which naturally led to them feeling a sense of dread as the days became shorter and summer gradually came to an end. 

But, everything became ruined when Brock and Lennon slept together on her last night at the lake. Then Brock woke up to a cold and empty space next to where he laid in his bed the morning after. 

The piece of him that Brock didn't realize Lennon had a hold on broke that morning. She left him feeling hurt and confused. He texted her, but she didn't reply. Then when he took his jet ski out on the water and rode by her family's house, only to see it completely dark and no cars in the driveway, he knew summer was officially over and that he wouldn't hear from her again. 

That is why he was looking forward to this summer. There was no guarantee he'd be seeing Lennon. He didn't know what had gone in her life over the past ten months but was sure he'd get filled in on it once he saw her family, but he had this unexplainable feeling that she was going to be there, and that was enough to get him nervous. However, Brock was still excited even with those nerves because his summer just wasn't complete without Lennon in it. Regardless of how the two felt towards each other.  

Brock's first day back consisted of getting everything ready, and the house opened up for the season. With his roommates and family's help, the boat was launched into the water and docked, so were the jet skis, and everything just slowly fell into place. The only thing missing was Lennon.

However, he tried not to think of things like that. He was convinced he'd get some closure about what happened between the two of them last summer, but when he casually brought her up in conversation, no one knew if she was back or not. Lennon's family was at the lake, everyone knew that much, but no one had seen her yet, which made Brock feel a little less hopeful. 

Once everything at the house was finished getting ready, all of his company stayed for dinner but then headed back to their own homes, his roommates included. They'd be back on the weekend and be staying there for good afterwards, but for the next few days, it would just be Brock and his dogs, which was fine by him.  

After everyone left, Brock headed out to the back yard, letting Milo and Coolie run around for a bit before going back inside for the night. The sun was setting, leaving warm pink and orange trails of light chasing after it while slowly disappearing in the distance. A few boats still drove around on the water, finishing up their rounds before it got too dark. Brock could also hear chatter from somewhere nearby where he assumed people were outside having a bonfire or just socializing as they enjoyed what was bound to be a beautiful evening. 

Brock then wandered to the edge of his dock and sat down, letting his legs hang off the side then swaying them slightly as he continued taking it all in. Not too long after, Coolie joined him as he took up the spot next to him and rested his head on Brock's lap while looking out at the water as well. Meanwhile, Milo continued wading in the water, ready to attack any fish that dared come near him. 

About ten minutes later, after Milo had gone up onto the dock as well, Brock spotted a boat heading towards him. As the boat got closer to shore, he could hear the familiar voice of Wesley Schultz as a song by The Lumineers played and watched as the boat slowed down then took a wide right turn before coming to a stop about 20 feet from the edge of his dock. Confused, Brock looked around for someone else because surely whoever was on the boat wasn't stopping to talk to him. But then he remembered that he was at his own house and that there was no other explanation for what was going on. 

"Hey!" A voice greeted over the music, then a man, who Brock assumed was around the same age as him, came into view. He had dark brown hair that wasn't quite as long as Brock's but still long enough to noticeably be pushed back away from his face with a pair of sunglasses and wore only a pair of green swim trunks and an unzipped white sweater. "So you're the person who lives here. I'm Max. My family just bought a house around the bend over there. It's nice to meet you."

"Oh, cool!" Brock responded, a wave of relief washing over him as he realized the guy was just being friendly. "Nice to meet you too. I'm Brock. I live here with a few friends, but it's just me here right now. I'm sure you'll see the others around soon. Have you been to the lake before?"

"No, this is my first summer here," Max explained and smiled. "But, I know someone who's been coming here for a while and told me all about it. I must say, it's living up to its hype."

"Your friend sounds like they know what they're talking about," Brock chuckled, then heard a voice say something from where they must've been sitting out of sight on the boat. But what really surprised him the way Coolie perked up at the voice and caused a low whine to leave his mouth. 

"Yeah, I'd say she does," Max replied, then leaned to the side and looked down into the boat's cabin. "She's right here actually, said it was too cold then went inside—Babe, wanna come say hi to my new neighbour? Maybe the two of you know each other."

The thought of how Brock might know the other person on the boat made sense, he knew the area so well and had met lots of people over the years, but that still didn't prepare him for the way he felt once Lennon stepped into view. 

"Lemon?" 

Brock's nickname for her fell from lips so quickly as he took her in, he didn't even have to think about it. Lennon's deep brown hair was longer than it was the last time Brock had seen her, that much he could tell even in the messy fishtail braid she had it in. Usually, Lennon liked to cut her hair going into the summer because she always complained about how hot it made her feel whenever it was down and not being held back with the hair tie that usually resided on her wrist. 

He then took in the rest of her appearance. She wore bright yellow crocs, a pair of white terry cloth shorts and a baggy pullover that had Minnesota written in a large yellow font across it as well. Brock recognized the sweater because it belonged to him until the last night of the previous summer. 

It was a simple look, but to Brock, Lennon still seemed stunning in the evening glow surrounding her. 

That was when Coolie stood up and barked, snapping Brock out of the trance he'd fallen into upon seeing Lennon again. Coolie recognized her. That much was evident with how he whined and started wagging his tail just at the sight of her, Milo joining in soon after. 

"Hi Coolie, hi Milo," Lennon spoke softly and smiled at the two dogs, making Brock feel as if he walked into a brick wall just by hearing her voice again. 

"Oh, you two do know each other!" Max exclaimed, snapping Brock back to reality once again. 

Then Lennon looked Brock in the eyes for the first time, and her smile fell slightly. 

"I guess you could say that," she stated, not breaking eye contact. "Hey, Brock."

"H-hey," was all he could reply with, still recovering from the initial shock of how Lennon, the person he spent the last ten months thinking about, was finally standing in front of him again, but with another guy. "You're back."

"Yeah, I am," she nodded, then looked back at Max. "We should probably get going, though. It's getting dark."

"You're right," Max agreed. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you around, Brock. Have a good night."

"Uh, yeah, you too," Brock responded, whispering almost as he observed Max start the boat back up and begin driving off. 

He watched the two of them go, refusing to take his eyes off of Lennon, which was how he didn't miss the way she looked back at him too or how she didn't look away until the boat rounded the bend and disappeared out of sight yet again. 

~*~

About a week went by before Brock saw Lennon again, and he hated it. He saw her family, who all asked when he'd be stopping by again. But Brock didn't know how to explain that he and Lennon had barely spoken or the reason behind it all. It then got worse when his parents came over that weekend and told him how they ran into her while they were at the store and that she seemed to be doing well.

It sucked for him because all he wanted to do was talk, but he knew Lennon. And he knew that if she wanted to talk, she would. However, it was clear that she didn't, so Brock didn't push her into talking with him regardless of how badly he wanted to. 

The thought of just messaging Lennon and asking her to come over crossed his mind many times that week, but he couldn't bring himself to send the text he typed out and would end up deleting it instead. His summer was already off to a very different start than he was hoping for. 

One day, while he was out boating with some of his friends, things started to change again. 

After being out on the water for most of the day, Brock and his friends all decided to dock the boat at the marina near, of course, the beach that Brock couldn't step foot on without thinking about Lennon. Once he saw that beach, he was reminded of how much time he and Lennon spent there together over the years since first meeting. Brock would've been lying if he said he didn't want to run into her again on that same beach, but he tried not to get his hopes up. 

However, to his luck, Lennon was walking along the dock at the marina the same time Brock was hopping off the boat to help tie it up. Brock spotted her first, but she was busy scrolling through her phone, her eyebrows furrowed with an unreadable expression on her face as she did so, and she didn't notice Brock or the others as she continued walking towards them, but then came to an abrupt stop. 

Whatever Lennon was looking at on her phone seemed important, and Brock didn't want to interrupt, but then one of his friends, who also knew Lennon, spotted her. 

"Lenny!" Sam exclaimed as he brushed past Brock, making Lennon jump, but still, smile once she saw who was approaching her and accepted the hug she was about to be pulled into. "You're back!"

"Lennon's here?" Someone else asked, and soon enough, everyone who Brock was with rushed by him to see their friend. 

"Hey, guys!" She greeted happily, a much different mood than how her reunion with Brock was a week prior. 

"Are you here all summer?" 

"I am," Lennon confirmed, still smiling. 

"That's awesome," said Claire, Sam's girlfriend. "We've been waiting to see when you'd get here. We missed you! Is Mick here too?"

"Yeah, he is," Lennon responded, letting the group know that her brother had returned to the lake as well. "He's at the house right now helping my dad get the new barbecue set up. I was sent here to pick up things to get grilled tonight."

She then held up the plastic bag she was carrying for emphasis, earning chuckles from the rest of the group. 

"Well, we won't keep you then," stated one of Brock's roommates. "But come over to the house soon, and we'll all hang out."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you guys later!"

Everyone said goodbye to Lennon, then continued on their way, but Brock stayed back. She still hadn't noticed him, and he didn't want her to feel cornered by him, especially around their friends, but he needed to talk to her. Just the two of them.

He observed her as she watched their friends walk down the dock, taking in the jean shorts and mint green tank top she wore, then cleared his throat, making Lennon snap her attention in his direction and not missing the way her eyes widened as she did so. 

"Hey, Lemon," he greeted her and felt an instant wave of relief wash over him while he saw her expression soften as he said that. 

"You're never going to drop that nickname, are you?" She asked while shaking her head and smiling.

Brock pursed his lips and looked away from her as if he was deeply considering her question but couldn't help the small laugh that left his mouth as he did. 

"No, I don't think I can."

"Right. Whatever you say, Broccoli."

At that, Brock's grin grew much wider. Hearing Lennon call him the nickname she's always said in response to him calling her, Lemon, hit differently this time because, although he knew things weren't normal between them, it almost seemed like it was. But, it was short-lived because his nagging thoughts about the girl standing in front of him started creeping back, making his smile falter a little bit. 

"Brock?" Lennon asked, noticing how he was getting too deep in his thoughts. Something she knew he did often. "You ok?"

"Yeah," he replied and shook his head slightly. "I was just thinking. Um, listen, can we talk? You know, about… everything?"

Lennon let out a sigh, knowing this conversation needed to happen between the two of them, but still not sure if she was ready to have it just yet. "I don't know what to say."

"Me neither, to be honest. But maybe we can start with what happened last summer and how you're seeing someone else now?"

"Brock, me and you aren't in a relationship. You can’t corner me like that. I don't owe you an explanation."

"Lennon, that's not fair and you know that’s not what I’m doing," he stated. "I'm not saying you have to explain yourself. That's your business, whether I like it or not. But, I would like to know where we stand because I have thought about you every day for the past ten months and seeing you on that boat last week sucked. I was caught off guard, but that doesn't matter. I just miss my friend and don't want this summer to be weird because we slept together when clearly it didn't mean anything."

Once Brock finished his spiel, Lennon took a shaky breath then let her gaze fall to the ground, knowing he had a point. 

"I'm sorry," she spoke softly. "You're right, it's not fair, and I'm also sorry for just leaving you last year. But Brock, I don't know what to tell you right now because I know it's not going to be what you want to hear."

"The least you could do, as my friend, is tell me why. Why did you leave and act as though nothing happened between us and avoid me completely?"

"I panicked, ok!"

"About what?" Brock questioned, feeling even more lost than before. "Len, what are you talking about?"

“Because Brock, before we slept together, it was just you and the lake,” she explained. “It was easy. It was like we lived separate lives, and that worked until they crossed paths again in the summertime. Maybe having sex messed that up, but I don’t want it to. I want things back to the way they were.”

“Why do we have to live separate lives outside of the lake? You’re one of my best friends. I would love to share all of my life with you. But I feel like I know nothing about you.”

“Why now, though? Why didn’t you want me to be part of your life or know more about mine away from here before last summer?”

“I never said I didn’t!” He stated firmly and stressfully pushed his hand through his hair. “That’s just always been how we worked. How can you expect me to know that was something you wanted when you didn’t express it either, Lennon? But I will say this; I care about you. I have feelings for you, alright? If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you to stay over on that night last summer. That all seems pretty irrelevant now, though.”

"I-," Lennon started but had to stop as a voice cut her off. 

"There she is," Max said as he and another guy that Brock didn't recognize approached them. "And Brock! Good to see you again."

"Uh, yeah," Brock replied hesitantly, suddenly not knowing what to say as he watched Max casually walk up and wrap his arm around Lennon's waist. "You too."

"Did we interrupt something?" Max asked while glancing at the other guy he was with, then moved his gaze between Brock and Lennon. 

"No," Brock spoke and looked Lennon dead in the eye. "I guess we're done talking. I'll see you guys around."

"Brock, wait," Lennon said and pulled away from Max as Brock walked past them. 

"Just like you, I don’t know what else to say, Lennon. Say hi to your family for me."

And with that, Lennon was left watching Brock leave her behind this time.

Later that evening, Brock was at home with his roommates, putting some plates into the dishwasher after they were all finished eating when Milo and Coolie started barking like crazy. He wasn't sure what was going on and looked at the rest of the guys, who all shrugged in response, then went over to the glass sliding door the dogs were standing in front of and saw what had them acting the way they were. 

Outside he saw a woman hopping off a jetski, then watched as she pulled it up to the small shore that met his property. Once she was sure the jetski was beached enough and took off her lifejacket, she walked up the slope that led to the rest of the lawn, then walked across the grass onto the dock before sitting down at the edge of it and facing the water like she owned the place. It didn't take long for Brock to realize the girl was Lennon. 

He then looked back at his roommates, all of who were watching him intently, almost as if they knew this was coming, but they all quickly looked away and pretended to be busy looking at something else. Brock rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. He didn't want to give them the satisfaction of a response, so instead, he stayed silent and opened the door so he could step outside. 

Milo and Coolie continued barking as Brock slipped by them but didn't let them outside with him. He knew that Lennon wouldn't have just shown up unannounced after the talk they had earlier that day unless she really needed to get something off her chest, and Brock wanted to hear what she had to say without any interruption. 

Lennon didn't look back as he walked across the grass and onto the dock. It was like she knew he'd join her regardless of how rough things may have seemed between them. And she would've been right for assuming that. As much as Brock wanted to be mad at Lennon, it still seemed like magnets pulled him towards her, and it just wasn't possible for him to fight. 

Brock didn't say anything as he sat down next to his friend, just joined her in silence while they both looked out over the water and observed the sun as it began its descent in the late evening sky, but he couldn't keep himself from observing Lennon out of the corner of his eye and taking in how she looked. 

Her hair wasn't tied back or anything. It just fell down her back in loose natural waves that shifted ever so slightly whenever there was a breeze. She wore a faded red Beatles pullover, which was somewhat ironic seeing as she was named after one of the band's members, making Brock smile because that was just a very Lennon thing to do. The sweater was paired with some jean shorts and Nike slides, but what caught his attention the most was her eyes. Lennon had light brown eyes that Brock thought were stunning all the time, but when the sun hit them just right, like it did in that moment, they seemed golden almost, and it was so hard to look away. He's always loved her eyes. 

However, his moment of observing her in silence was cut short when she let out a sigh and then glanced towards him. 

"New York," Lennon stated, earning herself a confused look from Brock. 

"New York?" He asked, genuinely unsure of what she was implying. "Lennon-."

"That's where I'm from," she elaborated, then looked from him to the water again. "Upstate New York, to be exact, near the Buffalo area. My birthday is November 2nd. I was actually born in Minneapolis, but my parents moved when me and Mick were about ten months old for work and I hadn’t been back until they bought the lake house. Uh, when my parents found out my mom was pregnant, they thought they were expecting twin boys at first. They wanted to name me John after the Beatles still and then Michael after Mick Jagger, but when I came out a girl, they had to improvise."

Brock was speechless. He was so shocked. Lennon was telling him everything that he's always wondered about her and then some. He was intrigued, and there was no way he would stop her from sharing whatever she wanted to say.

"As you know, I took English and Literature in university," she continued. "I took that program at NYU and have been living in New York City for the past five years because of it. I have a freelancing job, which has been paying the bills. I've also spent the last month and a half applying to various master's programs at different schools, and it's been pretty discouraging if I'm completely honest. Since moving to NYC, I've made many trips to Toronto to visit Mick, seeing as that's where he went to school, but coming back to the lake each summer remains my favourite place to be, and you are a huge part of why Brock."

"Lemon, I didn't know any of this," he replied, shaking his head as he still processed everything she said. 

"I know, that's why I'm telling you."

"Wow, I, I don't even know what to say. I've always wondered these things about you, but other than seeing you here; you've always been like a blank slate to me. I've known you for so long now, but I've never known so much about you. I just figured you never really wanted me to be part of your life outside of summer, y'know?"

"Yeah, about that," Lennon started and let out a small laugh. "That is so incorrect. You don't even know."

"What do you mean?" Brock questioned, feeling puzzled by her again.

"My friends in New York are huge into sports," she explained. "I can't even begin to explain how many times I've been dragged to a Yankees or Knicks game, but when it comes to the Rangers, I always look forward to it a bit more. They're not my team, I've got to give props to the Sabres for the hometown representation, and because of Mick, I started not entirely hating the Leafs. What always surprises my friends, though, is how adamant I get about going to the Rangers games whenever Vancouver is in the city. But I haven't told them I have a friend that plays on the team. They just think it's odd that I have a Boeser jersey."

"Woah, wait a minute. You've seen me play hockey?"

"Every time you've been in New York since starting with the Canucks, yeah."

"Lennon, what the hell?" He asked disbelievingly. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Lennon just shrugged before responding. "Like I said earlier today, Brock, it's always been you and the lake. I thought about messaging you but then figured you might not want me to and chickened myself out, so I never did. I don't know why I didn't just reach out, but now you know. So, please, never assume that I don't think about you when I'm not here. Because I do, all the damn time. And what happened between us last summer did mean something to me. You are way too important for it to not. I could never consider you as just a random hookup, Broccoli."

Brock could feel his heart swell an insane amount as she said that, but before he could say what he really wanted to in response, he needed to know something still. 

"What about Max?"

"Max is not my boyfriend," she stated, not missing a beat. "He's one of my best friends from school, yeah, but we are not together. He's from Minneapolis, which was how we actually bonded when we first met after telling him my dad was from this area. And let me tell you, I've told him if I'm still single by 40, we're getting married, but I don't think that'll be happening. He's very happy with his boyfriend, Connor, who was on the dock with us earlier, and I would've happily introduced you to if you hadn't stormed away before I got the chance."

"For fucks sake," Brock said, not being able to stop himself from grinning at how stupidly he overreacted. "I am so bad for jumping to conclusions, aren't I?"

"You always have been."

They laughed together as Lennon nudged him with her shoulder teasingly, then a comfortable silence fell amongst them again. However, it didn't last too long because Lennon was speaking again soon after. 

"I really am sorry for just leaving you last summer," she told him softly. "It's just- I knew I was going back to New York, and I figured it'd be easier if we didn't talk about what happened for both of us. I shouldn't have assumed that. It wasn't fair to you. But, I also have spent the last ten months thinking about you constantly. I like you too, Brock, more than I can explain, and I just feel stupidly vulnerable admitting that, but I'd be lying to myself if I said I didn't have feelings for you that weren't entirely platonic. I don't expect things between us to be like they were last summer, but I missed you a whole freaking lot this past year and will be glad to have my best friend back."

"I would love nothing more than for that to happen," Brock responded and waited for her to look at him again before continuing. "Maybe we can; I don't know, take things slow? We can see what happens over the summer, what it all leads to and you know, actually talk after. I also want to know as much about you as I can, but only if you'll let me.”

"Please. And yes, I'll tell you whatever it is you want to know. I want to get to know more about you too if that's ok."

"Of course it is, I'd like that," he replied before falling silent again as his gaze dropped to her lips. Brock was overcome with the urge to close the already small space between him and Lennon by kissing her, but he didn't. Although he was pretty sure she wouldn't necessarily be opposed to him doing that, he didn't want to fuck this up by rushing into anything again. She, too, was way more than just a hookup to him and Brock wanted to make sure she knew that. "Will you stay over tonight?"

Lennon's eyes widened in surprise at Brock's question, but she quickly realized he wasn't trying to make a move. He just wanted to spend more time with her, and honestly, she loved the idea of just hanging out with him all night.

"Yes, absolutely," she stated. "I'll also never say no to Milo and Coolie snugs."

"Good, because I'm pretty sure I can still hear Coolie whining over the fact that he can't come out here and see you."

The two of them laughed, then stayed sitting together for a few more moments before Brock eventually stood and helped Lennon up, then made their way back to the house together.

~*~

Although nothing intimate happened that night between Brock and Lennon, aside from some cuddling as they both fell asleep in his bed, it set the pace for the rest of their summer. The two, once again, became inseparable. 

The next few weeks went by very quickly, and everything was great. Lennon was over at Brock’s all the time, and he made sure to go over to her family’s house and visit with them lots too. Things were normal again. There was no tension as they hung out with all their friends. Brock even got to know Max a bit better, who, to Brock, ended up being a really cool guy. It was nice for him to hear more stories about Lennon’s life outside of the lake, and Brock loved every minute of it. 

However, as good as things were with the two of them while keeping their relationship platonic, there was no denying both Brock and Lennon had intense feelings for each other. 

From an outside perspective, it was apparent how much those two cared for each other, and it was often shown in the little things. It was gestures like Brock pulling Lennon onto his lap and wrapping her up in the blanket he had with him while having a bonfire. Or the time Lennon briefly gave Brock his Minnesota sweater back for a few hours while he was over at her house because she wanted it to smell like him again. It was so obvious the two of them had a thing. And yet, nothing more happened between them. They were both afraid that it may get fucked up again, which neither wanted. Especially with how fast summer seemed to pass by. 

One Friday afternoon in late July, things hit a rough patch again. 

Brock and Lennon were at his place, hanging out on the stairs of the back deck with Milo and Coolie, when Lennon dropped the bomb about having to leave the lake in the upcoming days. 

Understandably, Brock was confused. He knew that he’d have to return to Vancouver in a few weeks to get ready for training camp and the upcoming season with the Canucks, but Brock thought he still had a few weeks left with Lennon at least. Brock took the news pretty well, but when he asked her why, feeling like he could after the talk they had on the dock over a month prior, she started shutting him out again. 

“I’m moving,” Lennon stated as she shifted away from Brock, not getting up from where she sat between his legs on the step in front of him, but enough to let his arms, which he had wrapped around her shoulders as she leaned back against him, fall to his side again. “I have to go back to New York on Monday and start packing up my apartment. My master’s program isn’t there, and I knew this was coming. I just didn’t think it’d be so soon.”

Brock understood, he really did, but then he got thinking and became confused. 

“You never told me you got into your program, Len. That’s great,” he replied and leaned forward so he could look at her better. “Where are you moving to?”

“Oh, um, you know, nowhere spectacular. Just the west coast.”

“Nice, what school? Maybe if it’s near a city with an NHL team, we can meet up when I play there. I’d also love for you to visit me in Vancouver if you’re able to or up for it.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she replied, smiling because she really liked that idea, but then it was like a switch went off in her mind, and that expression soon fell as she stood up from the stairs and turned to face him. “You know what, Brock, I have to go. I think my mom needed my help with something.”

That puzzled Brock even more. 

“I was at your house with you yesterday when your parents left for Minneapolis,” he reminded her with a small laugh. “They said they were going for the weekend.”

“Oh, right.”

“Yeah. Uh, Is everything alright? You’re acting weird all of a sudden.”

“Everything’s fine,” Lennon lied, which Brock was aware of with the way she started picking at her nails and avoiding making eye contact with him. “I just have a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“Lemon,” he started softly. “You know you can talk to me, right? You don’t have to block me out again.”

Lennon let out a sarcastic chuckle. 

“Why does everyone always say that? Lennon quit blocking people out. Lennon, no one will continue breaking down those walls you put up all the time… But, no one gets that it’s just easier for me that way. I feel safer. It’s nothing personal.”

Brock’s expression fell at that a bit. “I get that, I do. Sometimes it is easier that way, but it’s also very lonely. You have people in your life that aren’t going to hurt you the way you think someone could. I want to think I’m one of those people.”

“You are, Broccoli,” she assured. “You always have been. I just, I can’t help but always think of the worst possible situation when going into new things. That’s just how my mind works. And even when it comes to you, when it comes to us and whatever we are, I’m still scared because there are so many unknowns. We don’t know what will happen when I leave for New York again, and I know I should’ve told you sooner, but I didn’t want to dampen the rest of our time here together. This has been the best summer I’ve had in a long time, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re not ruining it,” he explained. “We know we both can’t stay at the lake forever, but that doesn’t mean we can’t bring what we have here with us when we leave. Lennon, I want you in my life all year round, not just when we’re here. I wish you realized that. And now, once you leave, it’s like I know nothing all over again because you won’t let me in enough to tell me. Which honestly sucks a lot.”

Lennon just looked back at him, not caring that her eyes were on the brink of overflowing with tears as she processed what he said. Brock cared for her. Probably more than any other guy she’s ever felt this intense of feelings for, but she was still absolutely terrified of accepting that for some reason. 

“I’m sorry, Brock,” she said, then took a shaky breath as she stepped further away from him and started backing down the stairs. “I- I’m going to go, and please, don’t come after me. I promise I’ll say bye before I leave, but I just need to think.”

She then turned and rushed down the rest of the stairs without looking back. Brock immediately stood up and went to call after her, but Lennon was already rounding the corner that led to the driveway and soon disappeared out of sight. Milo and Coolie were about to go after her, but Brock stopped them as he heard a door close and the sounds of a car pulling out of the driveway. She was already gone again, and there was nothing he could do about it. 

That night, Brock went to one of the bars nearby with their group of friends for a karaoke night. Lennon was initially supposed to join him and his roommates to venture over there together, but he knew that would no longer be the case after what happened earlier. 

After Lennon left, Brock went back inside the house, and his roommates just knew something went down between them. However, when they asked, Brock didn’t want to talk about it and just kind of went to his room alone until it was time to leave later on.  

He thought going out with their friends would make him feel a bit better and at least get his mind off the situation, but Lennon’s absence was way too noticeable for him even to try to enjoy himself. Brock didn’t take part in karaoke. Instead, he sat at one of the tables nursing a seltzer that was room temperature because he just wasn’t in the mood. 

After an hour passed and Brock still hadn’t finished the drink or taken much part in the group outing whatsoever, he figured he might as well call it an early night and head home. However, before he could, someone sat down next to him and started talking to him. 

“What are you doing over here by yourself?” Asked Michael, Lennon’s twin brother, before he sipped on his beer and gave Brock a judgy look that resembled the same one he’d received from Lennon many times before. 

“Hey, Mick,” Brock greeted with a smile. “I’m just not feeling it, I guess. I think I’m going head out soon.”

“Fair enough. It seems like my sister felt the same way. What a no-show.”

Mick scoffed jokingly, then looked around at their friends. Brock let out a small laugh and shrugged in response, but then he figured that maybe he could ask about Lennon seeing as he knew her twin probably knew more than he did. 

“Speaking of your sister, do you know why she didn’t want to come out tonight?”

“I’m surprised you don’t,” Mick deadpanned. “But no, I haven’t been home. I figured she’d be here with you, actually, but I guess you never really know with her. I don’t know how you’re going to put up with living in the same place as her beyond the summer.”

“Same place as her?” Brock asked.

“Yeah, Lennon got accepted to do her master’s at UBC in Van,” Mick replied, then watched as Brock’s eyes widened in shock. “Woah, wait. She didn’t tell you, did she?”

“No, didn’t mention it at all.”

“Fuck, of course not. I honestly wish I could say I was surprised, but then I’d be lying.”

Brock glanced down for a brief moment, still processing what he just told, then shook his head before responding. “Mick, I say this in the nicest way possible, but Lennon gives me fucking whiplash, I swear.”

“Join the club,” Mick laughed. “I’ve been president for almost 24 years now.”

“I just, how could she not tell me?”

At that, Mick’s expression turned a bit more serious than it was before, then he sighed. 

“I know it may not seem like it right now, but she really does care about you, Brock. More than she’ll let herself admit. You’re someone that’s important to her and has been for a very long time.”

“I wish she had a better way of showing it. Then I wouldn’t have to doubt so much.”

“I know,” Mick replied. “It’s a lot. But, let me tell you that what Lennon feels for you is very different from what she’s felt for any other guy before. My sister has been in a relationship with a fair share of people. I’m talking frat guys to Wall Street douchebags, she has had a few what could have been serious relationships, but those guys were not it for her. They betrayed her trust, belittled her for getting too in her head at times and then left her in the dust after they broke her. She’s always blamed herself for that and hated that she even bothered putting her heart out there, so it’s something she struggles with. But with you, Brock, she can be herself. I see Lennon at her happiest when we’re here, and it’s because of you. That’s not even something I have to think about because it’s always been that way. You’re her best friend, but what she feels for you is more than that and what it is, is that she’s scared to admit it. She doesn’t want to ruin what the two of you already have or risk getting hurt in doing so.”

Brock didn’t know what to say. He hung on to every single word that Mick said and took a moment for him to wrap his head around it all, but he already knew what to say. He’d known for a while.

“Mick, there is not a single part of me that would ever want to hurt her,” Brock explained. “Lennon is just such an important part of my life, and after what happened last summer, I also didn’t want to fuck up what we have. But, I really want to.”

“I know,” Mick stated. “And I trust you with her, Brock, that’s why I told you all of this. I don’t think you’ll hurt my sister, and she deserves someone like you. Now, I know you probably have more that you want to say on that topic, but why don’t you say it to her. She’s gotta be at home, and I just think the two of you need to not lie about how you feel anymore.”

As Mick said that, Brock couldn’t help but smile, then nod in agreement before standing up and grabbing his keys. “You’re right. I’m going to go talk to her. Thanks, Mick. I’ll see you around.”

“Make good choices!”

It didn’t take long for Brock to drive to Lennon’s house, but everything was dark when he got there. He thought about texting her but decided against it because he knew she wouldn’t answer. So instead, he got out of his car and listened. Sure enough, he could hear City and Colour’s The Girl playing softly from the backyard and knew she was there. 

Brock shut the car door, knowing that Lennon would hear it, then walked down the driveway on a mission. 

By the time he reached the backyard, Lennon was leaning over the railing, trying to see who it was that just got there, and Brock didn’t miss the way her eyes widened in surprise after realizing it was him.

“Brock?” She asked, then moved over to the top of the stairs as he climbed up them, still not saying anything. “What’re you-.”

Before Lennon could finish asking her question, she was cut off by Brock as he wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her towards him, not stopping until their lips met in a very firm yet delicate kiss. He took her by surprise, but Lennon reacted by closing her eyes and melting into his touch, then wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and kept him close as she deepened the kiss. 

After a moment, the two of them broke away slightly, and Brock leaned his head against her’s, smiling like crazy. 

“I wish I didn’t wait a month to do that again,” he said, making Lennon laugh.

“I’m not complaining,” she replied. “That’s definitely one way to make an entrance, though. But why do I have a feeling there’s more to why you’re here besides just wanting to kiss me?”

Brock smiled at that because she was right, but before he could respond, he needed to think about what he wanted to say first. As he did that, he noticed that she was wearing the same outfit as she was earlier, right down to the messy bun, but now she wore his Minnesota sweater again, and his smile grew at that. Although the sun had already set, Lennon’s eyes still glowed with how the fairy lights strung around the deck reflected in them and that mixed with the Dallas Green’s voice still singing in the background. It was tough for Brock not to just lean down and kiss her again. But he knew he couldn’t, not right away at least.

“You’re right,” he told her, then let out a breath and smirked as the song changed to She Will Be Loved. “There’s something else I want to talk about, something we haven’t discussed yet.”

“What’s that?”

“Come back to Vancouver with me. After you’re packed up in New York, let’s go to Van together.”

“Wait, you know that’s where I’m moving?” Lennon asked, surprised. “Mick told you, didn’t he? Brock, I didn’t tell you because I thought-.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Brock cut off her ranting and smiled. “It doesn’t matter. I want you there, Lennon. I want to be with you while you’re there, as more than just your friend.”

A surprised gasp left Lennon’s mouth, but she recovered quickly by smiling and pulling him in for another kiss. 

“As long as I get to do that all the time, I’m game,” she responded after she broke away from him briefly, then let him close the space between them again. 

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Without even having to voice it, Lennon started leading him back towards the house, hinting at how she wanted him to stay the night, and there was no way Brock was going to say no to that.

~*~

“I had a feeling you’d have a lot of things, but I was not expecting this,” Brock huffed as he peeked out from behind a stack of moving boxes. He and Lennon were standing in the living room of her new Vancouver apartment, getting ready to unpack everything. “This is excessive.”

“Shut up, the place was unfurnished,” she grumbled in response. “What did you expect?”

“I’m just saying, this would’ve been a lot less of a hassle if you had moved in with me.”

Lennon gave her boyfriend an unimpressed look, which he responded to with a wink and a smirk before he walked towards her and pulled her into his embrace. 

It was the end of August, and Lennon was finally ready to move into her new place. After she left the lake for New York a month prior, it took her about a week to get everything packed up and organized for the move to British Columbia. Lennon already had a storage locker rented in Vancouver to keep her stuff in until she was able to start moving into her apartment and had plans to go back to the lake until her lease began on the first of September and spend the rest of the summer with Brock. However, when she, Mick and their parents landed at the Vancouver airport, he was already there waiting for them. 

He helped them get everything to the storage locker. Then, after Lennon’s family left to go back to the lake, she stayed with Brock at his condo with Milo and Coolie for about three weeks before getting the keys to her place.

“That’s a little forward, don’t you think?” Lennon teased him. “What a strange thing to say to your girlfriend of what, a month?”

“I mean, I’ve also known my girlfriend for almost half my life, so does that month really make a difference?”

“Cheeky,” she responded, then stood on her tiptoes so she could peck his lips before moving away from him and over to where her phone rested on the small breakfast bar. “We can see where we’re at when this lease is up. But for now, I hope you’re ready to listen to the entire Lumineers discography as we start tackling these boxes.”

“Oh, you know it,” he told her as a matter -of- factly. “And let’s not forget about the wine in the fridge.”

“Yes, we can enjoy it once there’s room to sit down somewhere.”

Brock laughed in response and shook his head as Lennon pressed play on her phone and Sleep On The Floor started playing from her Bluetooth speaker. 

The two of them then started moving the boxes labelled ‘clothes’ to Lennon’s bedroom and started there. All of the furniture Lennon bought was set up already, so it was just a matter of putting things away and getting them organized. They got right to work, and although Brock was going to leave putting the clothes away to Lennon, so they went where she wanted, he figured he could at least unpack them so that she could just grab the items and go. Lennon grabbed a box and started unpacking it, so Brock did the same but had to pause once he opened the box closest to him and saw what was there. 

Laying on top of a pile of sweaters was the Boeser jersey Lennon told him about. Until that moment, Brock completely forgot that she had one, but it sure made him feel good seeing it for himself. A smile tugged at his lips as he lifted it from the box and set it on the bed, then glanced at Lennon to see if she saw his reaction. She was busy getting ready to hang things up in the closet, proving that she hadn’t seen him, which Brock was perfectly content with. He did, however, feel himself getting overly happy at the thought of seeing her wear the jersey that upcoming season and grinned even wider because of it. Brock had a really good feeling about them as a couple and couldn’t wait to see where things went from there.