#someone’s gonna have to talk me out of dating apps again soon

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

having a normal one over here

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

what about picture 4 for an angst to fluff type of thing!

OK, this is part 2 of THIS REQUEST where Harry is your childhood crush...

You had no idea what to do. You felt completely betrayed and shocked and hurt at what was going on. Both Harry and Nat had tried to talk to you before Nat just told Harry to go home and that’ she’d try again. But understandably so, you didn’t want anything to do to her.

*****

“How could you do that!?” Mandy scolded Natalie as she explained to her what was going on.

“Ugh, just hear me out!” She explained and Mandy sat and tried to keep her anger towards Nat in check, “Harry and I…know each other from before.” She explained and Mandy looked at her like she was crazy.

“What?!”

“Yeah…we met on a dating app while I did my year abroad in Italy. He was there on a long holiday and we matched and met up. He was so hot and nice and fun and we went out and he showed me the time of my life!” She explained, “We literally spent almost every day together for the 3 weeks that he was there. And like, we kept in touch for a bit after but stopped talking when he said he started to see someone else. I was heartbroken, but like we were just hooking up you know? So I got over it eventually.” She explained and Mandy frowned, “I even have pictures to prove it!” She said and Mandy shook her head.

“No, it’s alright. I believe you.” She said and Nat sighed.

“Like, it had just been so great, like a whirlwind romance and even though my feelings for him were gone I could never forget him! Like it was just such a wild and fun thing. When Y/N told us she wanted us to meet a childhood friend of hers and then he turned up I was stunned! It’s been two years since that happened, but like I said, I could never forget him! He messaged me after to see how I had been and we just chatted back and forth through the next day and that was all! I didn’t think to bring it up or anything because he wasn’t flirting or asking me out or anything, just legitimately catching up and I didn’t know that he’d be around so often. Then a few weeks later he finally asked me out and I said no, because Y/N had just told us about him kissing her the week before and how she had a crush on him!” She explained, “And I confronted him about the kiss and he said that he just did it without thinking about it, but I told him that was BS, but he said it was pointless anyway because her brother would be pissed and he didn’t want to ruin a friendship with Y/N or her brother so he was just gonna leave it alone.” She said through her tears and Mandy sighed.

“Why didn’t you just tell her that you guys knew each other? Or that you liked him too?”

“Let me clarify that I’m into him, but it’s not that deep. Like I wanted to talk to her as soon as he asked me out, but he said he would do it. Harry said he needed to talk to her about the kiss too and I just…figured he’d do it soon! I thought he had because there were a few days a couple weeks ago when I felt like she was avoiding me a bit and you know how she is when she gets upset, she just needs space to get over it. And maybe I just imagined that she was being odd with me because I just felt guilty about him asking me out or something? I wouldn’t have been seeing him the last few weeks if I knew he hadn’t talked to her about it yet! I just found out the day before your party that he still hadn’t talked to her and so I told him that if he didn’t do it in the next few days it was done.” She explained and Mandy sighed. “I feel awful about it, Mandy! Like I know I should’ve been more on top of it, but I just was so nervous about it. I’ve never been in a situation like this before!” She groaned with tearful eyes as she shook her head.

“What a mess…” Mandy said and Natalie nodded.

“I know, I know…and I’m not exactly sure what Harry said to her, but I swear, we barely hooked up last night! We’ve just been going out to dinner or just walking around the park and we went out to the midnight garden thing once with some of my friends! Like it hasn’t been like a weekly thing or anything like that because I was just really wary of doing too much, you know? But last night we were both a little drunk and he said he had told her so I just…” she sighed and shook her head. “She’s never going to forgive me.” Natalie frowned sadly.

“You know, Y/N isn’t that kind of person, Nat.”

“I know, but this is vastly different, Mandy! Like this looks so bad!” She sniffled, “I told him it wasn’t going to work.” She said sadly and Mandy frowned, “It’s too messy, like you said.” 

“OK, but you actually have a romantic history with him…she’ll understand.”

“She’s in love with him…it’s not just a crush and I think…he likes her a lot more than he lets on. I think I was just a distraction for him.” She said, “Like he’d always bring her up in some way and like…I feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.”

“Fuck…I’m sorry, Nat.”

“I feel like I deserve it.” She said and Mandy sighed, “I guess I’m just as naive as I was when I first met Harry.” She concluded.

“Or maybe he just knows how to play you.” Mandy said and Natalie sighed.

“Whatever, it’s over though. I would much rather try and earn back Y/N’s trust and friendship than to have some guy.” She said.

“Well that makes me feel like your priorities are in check.” Mandy said and Natalie chuckled, “Or was the sex that bad?”

“No…it’s…so fucking far from bad…” she said with a slight chuckle and Mandy winced.

“Well, I’m sorry you’re saying goodbye.” Natalie shook her head.

“I’m not. Like I said, as much as I’m into him, this friendship matters more.” She said with certainty.

*******

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Mandy asked you as she came into your bedroom.

“Like shit.” You huffed as you sat up. Your eyes were so swollen and your chest felt heavy, “Harry keeps texting, saying this is all his fault…”

“Well, I talked to Nat and it kind of is in like a technical form but…like obviously, she knows she did wrong in this, but things are not as deep as they may have seemed between them.” She said and you sighed.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Mandy assured, “Do you love him?” She asked carefully and your eyes welled up.

“Yes…fuck!” You groaned and Mandy sighed.

“It’s alright…I think he might also be a bit confused about his feelings based on what Nat said. And like…I know you like to work through things on your own when you’re upset, but she really wants to apologize and explain this to you.” Mandy said and you sighed.

“I’m just not ready to talk to her about this. I’m more upset at him though for…making me feel like he was interested in me.”

“Well maybe he is and he just…got scared and changed course.” Mandy said and you sighed. You didn’t want to have any hope, not now. As you thought about last night’s events you recalled that he had tried to talk to you about more than just him seeing someone and you had cut him off because you were ashamed. Maybe that’s what he had tried to tell you, that he liked Nat. 

“But like, why wouldn’t Nat tell me she likes him too?” You asked and Mandy sighed.

“You need to talk to her about that.” Mandy said, you groaned as you fell back onto your mattress and she sighed.

“I feel stupid for being upset because it’s not like we have anything more than a friendship, you know? Like…I never made a move on him or anything, until yesterday when he shot me down and I…locked myself in here like an idiot.” You said.

“Rejection is hard, bub. That’s understandable. And if it makes you feel a bit better they were not all over each other at the party or anything like that. She knows you prefer space so she’s getting out of here for a few days.” Mandy shared.

“Oh, who’s taking her in? Harry?” You asked with a scoff and Mandy rolled her lips together for a second and she shook her head.

“Ummm, when he was leaving she told him things between them weren’t going to work out. So no, not Harry. Maybe someone from her program.” She shared and you frowned. Sure, your feelings were hurt, but if she liked him and he liked her it made you feel bad that she ended things with him just because of you.

“Wait, because of me?”

“Well yeah…the way you reacted kind of made her realize that you don’t just have a crush on him like you had told us…and she said that she’d rather work on fixing your relationship than making things work with him.”

“Mandy…” you sighed sadly, now feeling bad for this and she sighed.

“Look, the three of us have never had any issues. You can be mad at her and hurt for this, but at the end of the day we’ve all been the best of friends this whole time, you know? And she’s willing to sacrifice that for you and I, because we’re more important than a guy to her. And I’m not siding with her, but what I’m saying is that in order to get to the bottom of this you’ll also need to take a step, you know? Like she’s taken hers and done what she can to correct this and to give you time and space, so ball’s in your court.” Mandy said and you nodded. “I’m gonna go get some dinner, want anything?”

“Depends.”

“I’m getting Chinese takeaway.”

“Then no. You realize Chinese food here is a joke, right?”

“I can’t decide that until I’ve gone to America.” She reminded and you smiled, “Be back later, OK?” She said and you nodded.

You laid in bed for a bit longer as you thought about what Mandy had said. Natalie had never done anything sketchy or mean-spirited in anyway to you or Mandy in the past. She had always been so supportive and helpful and such a good friend. People made mistakes…and you wished she had just been more open from the start, but that was also kind of unfair of you to ask for because you were never open. You were never willing to talk about difficult things, you just liked to figure things out on your own, last night was the evidence. Harry tried to confront a difficult situation with you and you ran away. How could you expect someone to just talk about challenging things with you when you weren’t open to having challenging conversations? Yes, she hadn’t dealt with this in the best way but she had never done anything to make you question her friendship before. And you did want to know what was going on with her and Harry… you picked up your phone and texted Harry that you needed some space and he just said to take your time and that was that.

********

It had been three days and you had texted Natalie that she could come home. Your negative feelings had mostly faded, all that was left now were questions. Questions about what was going on and how anything between them had even unfolded.

“Hey.” She said as she came in with her bag to find you on the couch waiting for her arrival. Mandy had stepped out to give you guys some space to discuss, but you wished she had stayed, tough conversations were definitely not your strong suit - communication in general was not something you were great at.

“Hi.” You responded and she frowned right away.

“I’m really, really sorry, Y/N! I know I fucked up, but I swear, we weren’t fooling around this whole time behind your back! We just hung out a couple of times.” She said and you sighed.

“OK, but like how did this even happen?” You asked and she sighed as she sat across from you.

“We had a fling 2 years ago during my year abroad.” She explained and your eyes widened in surprise and now you felt even more stupid. That was before you even knew Natalie and plenty of time after you’d seen Harry last.

“What?!” You asked.

“Yeah, he was on holiday in Rome and I was studying there and we met on a dating app and just…met up and yeah. Like obviously, it wasn’t anything serious, he was just there in passing for a few weeks.” She explained, “And when I saw him again with you it was just surprising. And he didn’t ask me out until after he had kissed you and I said no! I swear I did, because he had just kissed you like a week before! Then he said he needed to be the one to talk to you about it and I stupidly believed he would do it right away.” Natalie shook her head and you frowned, “I just…let him handle it against my better judgement. I didn’t know he would be so nervous or take so long to talk to you about this. I’m sorry you had to find you the way you did, but that was the first time anything physical happened between us! Well like, this time around. He had said he talked to you and we were a bit drunk and one thing led to another.” She explained and you nodded in understanding.

“Mandy told me you ended it.”

“I did.” She confirmed.

“Why? He likes you, you like him-”

“Because our friendship matters more to me than whatever fling I’d have with Harry.”  

“But he wants you…”

“I don’t know about that…I do like Harry, but it’s more of a physical thing for us. Like we don’t have all that much in common otherwise. We’re attracted to each other, that’s all.” She explained, “But we’re friends! We do have a legitimate history and relationship. Like you also have with him. I think he wanted to be the one to tell you because you mean a lot to him. Like…he didn’t kiss you just because. Or at least I don’t think he did.” You sighed and shook your head.

“This is crazy, Nat…”

“I know. And again, I’m so sorry and I’m more than willing to be patient as we try and get back on track because I definitely should’ve done better. Well, if you still want to be friends.” She said and you nodded.

“Of course I do, Nat.” You sighed and she sighed in relief.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like yeah, Harry means a lot to me, but like, you do too. It’s crazy you knew him before.” You chuckled and Nat nodded.

“Oh, I know. It’s a small world…I wanted to run away when I realized it was him but like, I knew it was important to you for us to meet and like…I promise you it wasn’t anything flirtatious or with other intentions when we first talked. It was just a catch up.” She said with a sigh and you nodded. “I should’ve said something. I’m so sorry for not saying something right away. I just…I don’t know, like it’s the past and when it ended I had been really sad over him. So I just…didn’t want to relive it when I knew that we weren’t like serious couple material. I would rather just interact with him as your friend than an ex-fling, you know?” She said and you nodded in understanding.“Confronting things is really hard for me too sometimes.” She admitted.

“It can be for everyone.” You assured.

“I just umm…I get it if you still need some time to get past all the feelings.” She said and you nodded.

“Thank you. And please move back in…I’m not like angry at you. I think I just…need to talk to Harry about it all.”

“Thank you. And yeah…I don’t know how he’s been either. How’s he been at work?”

“Just… glancing at me, hoping each day that passes is the day we’ll talk…” you mumbled.

“Well…I mean…how do you feel about him?”

“I…like him…a lot.” You confessed and Nat smiled, “I umm…I kissed him the other day when he was trying to talk to me. He ummm…he kissed me back for a second there.” You confessed and glanced up to Nat, she didn’t seem upset or phased by this information, “And then he stopped and told me that he was seeing someone. That’s all he said. He definitely didn’t say it was you. I mean…he probably tried to but I locked myself in my room, dying of shame…” you grumbled.

“I think he likes you a lot too…he’s just worried that it’ll make things weird between you two and your brother. He would always bring you up when he could…” Natalie said with a small smile and you shook your head.

“It doesn’t really matter though…I mean at the end of the school year I’m going back to America and he’ll be here so…it’s not worth getting hurt over, you know?”

“Oh, that’s right.” Natalie frowned.

“I forgot you don’t live here.” She said and you chuckled.

“Me too…but I mean, it could all just pass me by, you know? Like he’s just been someone I’ve had a crush on my whole life. I think I always will have a crush on him, like he’s that guy for me. But ummm…yeah I never even considered that I would actually get to be with him. So maybe that’s why when he kissed me I just…let my imagination run wild.” You scoffed.

“It wasn’t a kiss! It was a steamy snog-a-thon! And you don’t snog people you’re not into unless your absolutely plastered so…I don’t know, maybe you guys could make the most of your time here?”

“I don’t know, Nat… especially after this with you guys…like a part of him has to like you at least a little bit.”

“Sure. But the part that likes you is greater, or at least I think so, so it’s fine by me.” She assured and you pouted.

“After I had nearly a week long fit over you sleeping with a guy who’s not even mine to claim.” You groaned into your hands and she sniggered.

“He’s not mine to claim either. And well, given the optics of the situation it did look really bad. Not gonna lie…” she admitted, “But again, it’s not that deep for me. At least not anymore. Ask me two years ago and I would’ve probably dueled you for him.” She said with a smile and you cackled as she sat beside you and hugged you, “I’m kidding. I love you and I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you.” You responded with a small smile as you relaxed into her hug.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She hummed and you could feel her relief emanating off of her, “When are you gonna talk to Harry?” She asked and you shrugged.

“I’m just not ready for that.” You explained and she nodded in understanding.

**********

It had been three whole weeks and you still hadn’t even hinted at Harry that you’d have a conversation. And as time dragged on he had slowly but surely given up hope. He knew you were avoidant of difficult conversations and situations, but you seemed absolutely fine now which was what really was hurting his feelings. He at least thought that he meant more to you than just whatever had led you to just moving on like he was nothing to you. He thought that he meant at least enough that you’d be interested in hearing him out. He was currently in bed admittedly a bit drunk - a perfect recipe for disaster. And while he knew that you had asked him to leave you alone he just needed to apologize, it was killing him to keep all of this inside.

To Y/N: 

Hey, I’m really sorry for everything that happened with Natalie. I know how it looks but I never meant to lead you on or to get I between you and your best friend. I was just confused and I shouldn’t have done anything impulsive. I’m gonna save the explanation of how it went down because I’m sure she’s shared that with you, but I understand why you don’t want to talk to me anymore. I was an idiot, I know that. And as much as I wish you’d give me the opportunity to do this in person, I get why you don’t want that. I get the message, I’ll stop now. 

*******

It was inching on midnight when you saw Harry’s text and it felt that your heart sank into your stomach. What did he mean he’d stop now? Like stop being your friend? You didn’t even think about it twice when you slipped on a sweater and hurried out of the flat. You knew it was stupid to go hail a cab near midnight but you were really upset by his message and you felt so bad, even while deep down you felt that you had nothing to feel bad for. You gave the cabbie his address and you took off. 

There wasn’t much traffic since it was late so the drive was fairly quick and soon you were paying as the man dropped you off in front of Harry’s building. You made your way inside and to his door and knocked hard several times. It took him a bit to open it up but when you did he looked like he’d been crying and your anger melted away as you started to feel compassion for him creeping into you.

“What’re you doing here?” He asked you, clearly he had been drinking.

“You texted me.”

“Because you’ve been avoiding me like the fucking plague!” He said and you frowned, “I know that tough conversations aren’t something you like but I’ve had to keep this inside for three fucking weeks waiting for you to decide on when you feel up to talking to me. And I get it, we’re done, but I just needed to apologize. I’m sorry, I know you asked me to leave you alone, but it has sucked for me too! And I just…I miss how we were and I get that you’re over it-”

“Harry-”

“But I just needed to tell you that I fucked up. OK? I knew I should’ve talked to you sooner but I was worried that it’d ruin things between you and Natalie and I got nervous so I…just put it off. And well, I also didn’t want to hurt your feelings after we had…” he said and your eyebrows creased.

“Kissed?” You asked and he nodded, “Well you kissed me actually and I just…kissed back.” You clarified.

“Right.” He nodded, “Look, that was…wrong of me.”  He said and you felt your heart sink even deeper. 

“Oh…” you responded softly as you felt a lump forming in your throat.

“Wait, wait, wait that came out wrong!” He said quickly, “I’m a little drunk and I can’t think straight when I…when I’m around you.” He explained, “I know it’s fucked up and so immature but I needed a distraction and Natalie and I have…been together before and we had fun and like, I knew that it wasn’t going to move into serious territory and-”

“You explaining yourself is somehow making it worse…” you said and he groaned.

“I’m impaired OK! Just…give me a sec!” He said and you sighed, “When we reconnected and I saw how you’ve grown…god, that sounds weird…” he said and you sniggered, “Hey-”

“Impaired, I know.” You cut in and he nodded.

“I really quickly realized that I like you. A lot.” He confessed, “And admittedly, I freaked out because I know how your brother would react if he knew that I even looked at you in a way other than just his kid sister. But after everything went down a few weeks ago I realized that you’re an adult, I’m an adult, and we can make our own choices. I’m not a self-serving player like I used to be in university, though my recent behavior might prove otherwise.” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I like you too, Harry. But…maybe all of this is a sign that anything between us would not be a good idea.” You sighed and he frowned.

“Y/N-”

“Look at us…this is just not possible.” You said.

“Because I was too concerned about what everyone else might think about us but that doesn’t matter, does it? It’s just what I think and what you think about the possibility of us.” He said and you shook your head.

“Well, there’s that but ummm…it’s mostly because I’m graduating in a month and I’m going to be moving back home.” You reminded and he frowned.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You said with a small frown, “I think that’s why I’ve been so avoidant of you…because I knew that this conversation was going to suck in more ways than one.” You explained sadly, “Believe me I…have so many feelings for you but ummm…I just don’t think it’ll work out.” More than anything, his disappointment made you feel like shit.

“W-well what if you got a job offer at the firm?” He asked and you scoffed.

“Get real, Harry.” You said and he smiled.

“I am!”

“You’re impaired.” You reminded and he smiled.

“I am! By my feelings for you.” He said with a slight grin and you rolled your eyes playfully, “Look, I know that I’ve been stupid but I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you and I just have this gnawing feeling that I would regret it for the rest of my life if I never tried.” He said to you. You loved him…but how would this even work? It was guaranteed to be more pain than pleasure  for the foreseeable future.

“Harry, the last thing I want is to hurt you and for you to hurt me! I don’t see how we can do this without one or both of us getting hurt.” You explained. “I’m too scared to lose you…” 

“I get it.” He said quietly with a small pout and you licked over your lips.

“But I…might also be falling for you.” You said, “Or…maybe have already…fallen f-for you.” Your voice was a whisper by the end of your sentence and he was smiling at you.

“Well I may have also already fall for you if we’re being honest.” He responded and you smiled at him with hopeful eyes. “I’m so fucking drunk…there’s no way I would’ve been able to say that to you with such ease if I was even a tiny bit sober.” He confessed and you giggled and shook your head.

“Should we get you to bed?” You asked and he nodded.

“Please.” He sighed and you smiled and pushed him inside. 

Thankfully he was already in loungewear so you just guided him through his bedtime routine and made him drink a glass of water before he got into bed.

“You gonna get in with me?” He asked and you bit your lip.

“No funny business though.” You said quietly.

“Yeah, I pinky swear.” He said extending his hand out to you and you wrapped your finger around his for a moment, “Might still get hard though for…obvious reasons, but just don’t mind it and it’ll settle down…eventually.” He said and you chuckled as he smiled up at you from his pillow.

“Fine.” You responded and he immediately scooted over to make space for you. You switched off his bedside lamp and turned around, you felt his soft exhales just a few inches away from you. You bit your lip and just shook off any hesitation as you close the space between you two to kiss him. You could feel Harry smile into the kiss which ended it naturally. “Sorry.” You whispered against his lips breathily, “Broke my own rule.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” He whispered back, his voice slightly cracking with his rasp, it sent a chill through your body. You pecked his lips before you turned around and settled against him and as he cuddled up closer you felt his cock bulging into your backside and you bit your lip, he felt quite big. “Sorry, love” 

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” You said back to him and he chuckled, “Night.”

“G’night.” He hummed.

[kindyu]

can i be a vulnerable whiny doomer trans gay man for a second? (long post)

i got rejected, again.

i'm 23. a little over half a year on T. i've only had one boyfriend and that lasted three months. (the reasons for our break up were numerous, but the main one was we basically weren't even attracted each other, we were better off as friends.) the only other people i know about that liked me in a romantic (or sexual way) were 1) my female friend who told me after i complained one day that no one wants me to make me feel better about myself and 2) my classmate in 1st grade whom i hated.

i've had plenty of crushes and even loves throughout the years. when i was a teen, i struggled with a lot of shame around romantic feelings and it was almost impossible for me to talk to people whom i've liked, let alone ask them out. when it got a little better, i would hang out with my crushes and try to make moves that weren't obvious and could be interpreted in numerous ways in hopes of them catching it and reciprocating with bigger moves. it never worked. some people i was sure they were flirting with me. it turned out they weren't. a big portion of the people i liked turned out to be taken. I've always fallen too fast and too hard without even really knowing them, and when i got to know this information, it was too late. i got my heart broken. i always got very attached to people (romantic interests and friends, and the latter hurt more), too fast and too strong for my own good. it's something i've been working on in therapy for 7 years already. i also got diagnosed with depression and an anxiety disorder 7 years ago. i've come a long way and i've been seeing incredible results, but i'm still not where i want to be.

in the past three years, i've come out and started my transition. i also lost my religion and have been dismantling the complex system of beliefs that has been holding me down. these two things significantly improved my relationship with my body and my sexuality. i'm less dysphoric and i like my own body now. i'm no longer scared of having sexual fantasies. (when i was little, they made me believe having those was equivalent to raping that person) i've confessed to three men and a half (half because the confession might have not been clear and he didn't really react to it, but he also flirted with me before?? i'm gonna talk to him about it soon). i got rejected those three times (one guy's reason was that i'm trans). i also got rejected a few more times without confessing, that was on dating apps. and there were a few more unrequited loves these past three years that didn't even reject me, but it was clear they had no interest in me (they were mostly taken, as i later found out).

i've never had sex. ex-boyfriend was a sex-repulsed asexual. he's the only person i ever kissed. i'm not against hook ups, but i feel like it would be safer for me to have first sex with someone close to me who i can trust. i'm scared for my first time to be with a stranger.

i have a hard time flirting with people. it's difficult and nerve-wracking for me unless i can see that that person is interested too (if you're wondering who i flirted with, it was one of the guys who rejected me later. he flirted with me too, at least it looked that way.) i don't know where the line is, what's appropriate and what isn't. i've flirted with this one guy and i feel like it has no effect?? i'm scared of being too gross. i'm also scared of flirting and immediately being rejected because i read the room wrong and that person only sees me as a friend. i'm scared of the humiliation. i'm scared of feeling less than. i'm scared of the other person being mean to me. i know rejection is a part of life and it's not the end of the world, but i feel like i've been rejected so many times compared to the number of times i haven't (1), that each rejection just stacks one another. i feel dysregulated. i feel inferior sometimes. all the thoughts and feelings are so complicated. i feel like i never calm down and heal fully. it just continues on.

my options are significantly smaller than those of the majority because i'm trans and gay. i also have a very particular type that's hard to find. i've fallen for people outside my type, too, but in general, i'm not really attracted to a big number of people, which too makes my options smaller. it's not like i don't meet any new people, i do, through friends, on dating apps, at school, at pride events... but i don't go to clubs or bars. i'm shy and scared. i might go soon though.

i've mostly gone for cis men. i think i'd have more of a chance if i went for trans men. i see a lot of trans people dating each other and they're so happy. they say T4T is amazing. it's not like i wouldn't date a trans guy. but so far the trans men i've known just weren't my type. and if i was attracted to them, i later found their personality unlikable (one manipulated me and gaslighted me). as i said, my type is very specific. i like men who are more femme, but in a certain way. i also have a thing for long hair. i myself present more femme and have long hair. i wonder if it's just internalized transphobia. that maybe i should be attracted to more trans men. but i don't fully believe i'm wrong for this. i just think trans men tend to go for masculinity or short-haired androgyny more often and i'm not attracted to that very often. you might think – it's not all about looks! if you like someone, you'll start to find them attractive no matter what they look like. and yeah. i know. but they should interest me in some way, right? and since i've been super busy (uni + two jobs) and honestly have a lot of friends already that i'm trying to keep contact with, i haven't really felt the need to connect with more people unless i'm already attracted to them.

i've done a lot of complaining here. you might find me annoying. i just needed to vent somewhere. because frankly, i'm just fucking tired. and i'm scared that i will never find someone. it's not just about a long term relationship. i wonder if there's even one person that's attracted to me. i know it's not other people's fault. i have a lot of problems to deal with that make dating harder for me. I know i should've been more proactive in the past and i still should be. it's just that each step carries a new possibility of rejection. and i wonder if there's a point when i can't take it anymore. there's currently someone i really like. he flirted with me. i need to talk to him and figure what's up. it's just that i'm so scared. all the time. i've overcame my fear with him so many times – to talk to him, to ask him to hang out, to flirt with him... sometimes i've been let down. i don't know what he wants. it's been a long time and i wonder if it ever ends up somewhere other than a friendship. i'm scared that even if he likes me, he'll give up on me because i'm not proactive enough. my fear makes me fuck my chances up. but i can't help myself sometimes.

if you read it all, thank you. if anyone has any nice words or advice, i'd love to hear them. if anyone feels the same, i'd also love to hear that. i'm gonna talk about it with friends for the millionth time and in therapy tomorrow. and i will be okay. hopefully.

[nothanksbi]

Hey, you. I never thought I'd actually meet someone I'd like on a dating app, but here we are. We've been talking for, what, months now? You've been so patient about my not texting you for weeks, and you've been so enthusiastic in your responses whenever I did text you. It's too bad you had to shift to a different state for work, and it's too bad I'm planning to shift to a different country for quality of life - I would love to keep meeting you again. And again. For a long time.

We finally met for the first time two days ago, and it was nothing short of wonderful. I had no nervousness before the date, I was actually quite excited for it, and on the way home I reflected on the date looking for any red flags we might need to address but I found none. On the contrary, I found things which were more than just the bare minimum, things I would count as proper green flags. You adding my birthday to your calendar, forever, for example. And your interest and understanding of philosophy, physics, and accessibility, because it was deep enough to actually teach me something new. It was adorable how you said, "Chocolate is a round taste, mint is a sharp taste, they aren't supposed to go together!" because that is exactly how I'd describe those tastes - too exact to be a coincidence. And how we were twinning, unplanned, wearing a colour that wasn't black or blue. You know, when you were talking about how humans weren't evolved to learn probability but had to put considerable effort for it, I found myself just staring at you, your voice almost fading in the background, the way they show in the movies - except I was listening. You seemed so beautiful - your eyes lighting up with excitement, our conversation scratching just the right itch in my brain. I realise I never had a crush on you, but in that moment, it felt like I might just have one soon.

Of course, I've been thinking about you nonstop since the moment we separated after the date. And I told you that yesterday, and we talked about so many things, even though it was on text, and I still can't stop thinking about you. I decided to pause my dating profile yesterday, too - I would love to delete it, but my friends would want me to wait for a little while, and though I don't agree with them, I do respect their opinions. Anyway. We even told each other we really liked each other and I just knew this one's going to last for a long time...and by this one, obviously, I mean you, I mean us. There's gonna be an "us", and I hope and pray it turns out to be exactly what we both need and want.

Anyway, can't wait to go see your Instagram stories again for the sole purpose of replying to one and initiating conversation again. (Yes, I've been smiling the whole time I've been writing this.)

[raspberryconverse]

Being an adult means being real with yourself about your finances.

A huge pain point in my marriage has been money (which is totally common in relationships). We bought an old house and have had to replace literally everything except the dishwasher, dryer and most of the plumbing. We had to have half the house rewired before we moved in because it only had 1 owner and had cloth wiring. The plumbing is galvanized steel and some of it was connected to copper (big no no: there's a chemical reaction that happens and causes leaks). We recently had to have our entire kitchen drain replaced for this and the plumber wouldn't reinstall the dishwasher until we had it checked for mold, another $600 on top of the $4000+ we already paid for the drain. We had mold behind some wood paneling that obviously couldn't be seen on inspection. New roof, furnace, AC. Our drain tile system was put in backwards and had to be replaced. There was a huge flood last summer and we had 8" of water in our basement.

Needless to say, it's been stressful and we haven't even been here 2 years. And expensive.

I have always been terrible with money. I never saw good spending habits growing up, so I've always had the mindset of "I can buy it now with my credit card. It's fine." I know, that's not fine. But that's what I've always done. Some of it was definitely out of survival during my post graduating during a recession life, but I never really stopped when I started making decent money.

Anyway, during the pandemic, I found this bank called Simple that has the envelope budgeting system built right in. It was fantastic! I paid down my debts, I brought up my credit score. I was able to refinance my car loan to nearly a 10% lower rate. It was fantastic. Then, it shut down.

There was another bank that was similar to it called Envel. Basically the same concept. And it continued to work for me, but like Simple, they shut down.

I finally moved to Ally because they have these new "spending buckets." They sounded exactly like what I had with Simple and Envel. Except they weren't. Simple and Envel would distribute your money every time you got paid and put the right amount in each "envelope." Ally just puts the money in like a day or 2 before the due date you put on the bucket. This is not helpful. Yes, I could go through and distribute my money, but I don't always remember to do it. So... I didn't really do it.

Things got out of control again. I'm not saving anything. I buying shit that I don't need to be buying. We have things that are coming due with the house (the AC is the big one). It's not good. And my spouse is really stressed about it. And I'm just really embarrassed.

So I'm filling out a chart with my credit cards and their balances, interest rates and minimum payments in addition to a personal budget worksheet and meeting with my financial advisor soon. Yes, I have one of those. A friend sung his praises on Facebook, so I thought it might be helpful. And it was. I mean, he did get me to buy a bunch of life insurance, but I can meet with him whenever to look over things. I also love that he's about my age and while he's a straight cis white guy, he works with people and couples of all types (the friend who mentioned on FB him is a lesbian and married). We met with him before we decided to buy the house to see if we could swing it.

I did find a budgeting app made by a former Simple user which is basically the same as the bank, so I think that's going to work, but I really need to just sit down with someone who's not going to judge me and take a look at everything so I can get things back on track. It's really hard to admit defeat. It's really embarrassing to not be able to tell your spouse that your personal finances are in trouble and you don't know what to do. But I'm gonna talk to Brett and he's going to help me figure it out. And it's gonna be ok.

[simpydeezus24]

damn

so my lil bro is starting to legit hit it off with someone he matched with on hinge, and it’s most likely gonna progress into a relationship.

idk why I felt some typa way about it. Maybe it’s cuz he said he wasn’t even looking for something out of dating apps, it was supposed to just be experience to help him talk to girls again since he was with his ex for so long.

maybe I’m feelin some type way because in the gap between when his last relationship ended and to now where he’s probs gonna be in another one sometime soon, I have legit made no progress and am still as solo dolo as ever lol.

but then again, I make no effort to actually try to meet new people. I legit REFUSE to use the apps cuz I swear the hopeless romantic in me believes I will not meet my person that way.

ughhhhhggghghghghghhh. Im fr boutta be 5th wheeling in my family again :/

[frogsandfries]

Ramble

I dreamed that I randomly ran into my ex for the first time. They begged me to come back home with them. I said I couldn't stay; I couldn't afford to cut my lease, and it was better that way.

A bunch of their friends, our friends (?), came over and started advising me, my ex isn't a great person, they've gotten worse since the relationship ended, I deserved better, basically, don't do it.

Part of the dream was also crawling over packed plastic totes without lids for some reason. To get..... something?

It's funny, because I actually fell asleep thinking about this....... crush? that I have. Is crush the right word? This person lives halfway across the country; a direction I didn't just not consciously realize existed, like a good chunk of the southwest, but a region that I would never deliberately choose, mostly because of the weather, but also because of the history. So I'd most likely never end up doing anything with the emotions of the crush, never mind the person. Not even to mention, this person is not interested in any kind of Relationship™️.....

Honestly, I probably just like that they're friends with me and probably mistaking their flirtiness for something personal, rather than just part of how they interact with their friends. But gahd, this person is blazing fucking hawt, and they're nice to talk to. Unlike this person I was taking to on a dating app who had the personality of a chatbot.

Anyway, now I'm just rambling. I've already confessed to this person and we've set it aside. I have a bit of a migraine and it's too late now to take the migraine medication. I won't be able to work if the side effects hit me. Honestly, I'd rather wade through the migraine than feel nauseous and feverish.

Since I'm rambling, it still pisses me off that the whole relationship, my ex was like, I don't quit, I don't give up, we're gonna work through this blah blah blah. And then what, they started taking hormones, and that all changed? They had some kind of wakeup call? Bullshit. Again, I'll swear up and down that they wanted to be coddled and taken care of, and as soon as they found someone who could take care of them and they could just play video games all day, they didn't need to keep using me anymore. They wrang the last out of me because they convinced themself that I owed them, which is fucking bullshit.

I just want to date someone who isn't a fucking abusive narcissist. Anyway, that's been eating at me again. I got my legs back under me relatively quickly, but with money in hand just days before, and then not, and no solid legal protection because I voluntarily put that money into a joint account with a narcissist, I could have and should have--I deserved to recover faster. Because I literally earned it. Ugh. Anyway. It's fine, in a few months, it will be so far behind me, I won't miss that money anyway.

[oriandre]

HAPPY NEW YEAR 2023~

Hi, guys~ I’m back again after so long. Can’t remember when was the last time I logged into my account. Just wanna share some thoughts on what happened back in 2022. Well, I think it was a rollercoaster ride, there were both happy and unhappy moments. Things could’ve been better back then but too bad we can’t change the past and life still have to go on.

Tried to use a dating app after stopped using Tinder lol thanks to a close friend for recommending it. And when some countries slowly started to open their borders and allow tourists to visit, I managed to travel overseas again after a while. Thanks to this, I finally got to meet people whom I know online and plus more they’re foreigners (since the last time I met were mostly just local people in my home country). It was an interesting experience and of course felt shy at first since I’m quite different between online and offline lol. But none of those friendships progressed further into relationships HAHAHA. Had a good feeling towards one of them but he went MIA in which idk why we suddenly stopped talking (can only know how’s his life via IG story now). There were also only stopped till talking stage since I felt they’re too young for me or I wasn’t interested in them, a bit of drama also happened during the process lol. So, heading on, after leaving my previous workplace, tried to look for jobs in my hometown but it was quite difficult since there were not a lot of vacancies to apply to. In the end, I decided to apply for a remote internship from home and at the same time tried to WFH for few weeks but then I felt WFH didn’t suit me well and I changed my mind to work on-site in other city instead. Finally, my parents allowed me to fly to another city and met new people in my new workplace too. Actually, I stopped using the dating app since I became tired talking to new people all over again, but I was bored in the new city so started using it again and got to know new people from the app. Well, met someone who was interested in me, and I could tell that he was serious. So been talking to him for almost 5 months but too bad in the end it didn’t work out at all. Had too many expectations as I thought we gonna be in a relationship in the new year lol. But ofc I didn't talk to just one guy HAHAHA, met another person in the same app and I honestly didn’t expect that we’d still be talking to each other till now. Even though I can tell that he’s not interested in me lol and we’re just like good friends, I guess. Unless if he changed his mind after meeting me in person (soon hahaha). So yeah, there were heartbreaks, disappointments when it comes to this aspect (I’d say was in situationships for several times last year lol) and mostly only stopped till talking stage, but I guess I didn’t regret knowing those people and was a new experience to me as well. Not sure if this year gonna be my year to finally getting a boyfie? or just stay the same as previous years hahaha we’ll see

And working in the new workplace has taught me many things, well there were dramas at work but phew managed to go through it and things became slightly better. Got to know new people here even though the number of staff working here were surprisingly very few. New people were hired but there were also who left. Not really regret choosing to fly and come over to such isolated place, but this company really got a lot of things to improve honestly. Not really a good company for career progression, I guess. Unfortunately (for the company hahaha), I have to stop my journey here and continue to the next one after working for 6 months (supposed to leave around 3 or 4 Jan since my contract has ended on 1st Jan) but was asked to extend till 13 Jan lol. Gonna fly back to my hometown and start to work in a new place in Feb. New challenges await and I hope I can do well there and probably no more moving to another workplace in the meantime (aka stable permanent job). Ok that’s it for now hehe

[invisible-storyteller]

I'm legit gonna kill myself if we don't fuck again.

Derek stared at the text completely nonplussed, and silently wondered why he hadn't deleted the app yet.

"Who's that?" Erica asked as she tried to sneak a peak, but Derek was faster and already turned off his phone's screen by the time she plopped down next to him.

"No one."

Six years of friendship had given Derek incredible reflexes, but sadly, they hadn't gifted him with a better ability to lie. 

Erica side-eyed him for a few seconds, and obviously, that was the moment his phone buzzed with a new incoming message.

Cause that's the only way I'll ever reach Heaven again

"Is someone flirting with you at 8 am on a Monday morning?!" Erica whisper-shouted because she had no respectful bone for Derek's private life in her body and Derek somehow couldn't bring himself not to read the message as soon as it arrived, "And why did you get the text through Grindr?!" 

Erica looked both accusatory and proud, which meant that Derek had zero chance of getting out of it. 

Well, he had to confess at one point.

"You remember how I suggested that I might...?" He trailed off, unsure how to word it. But what are best friends for if not to finish your sentences in an incredibly unlike-you way?

"That you also like bananas not just peaches? Yeah, I have vague memories of that," Erica teased and Derek let out an exasperated sigh.

It was barely 8 am.

"Well, you said that maybe I should try... since I don't have luck with women."

"Oh, honey, that's not on you that you attract the crazies," Erica patted his arm comfortingly, then paused, "But wait. So you finally download a dating app? And you matched with a guy?"

"Not exactly," Derek mumbled as he leaned closer to her ear, "I also slept with him."

"YOU HAD GAY SEX FOR THE FIRST TIME AND YOU HAVEN'T TOLD ME?!"

Some of the people around them gave a tired look, but thankfully, everyone was too sleepy to care for something as unremarkable as a college student's sex escapades. Even if they were life-altering.

"Sorry," Erica said to him, lowering her voice, "But when did this all happen?"

"Last week. And I didn't have time to bring it up but I'm telling you right now."

"Yeah, because I saw the evidence."

Derek averted his eyes and busied himself with hiding his phone at the bottom of his backpack. 

"What is it, Der?" Erica asked, now concerned, "Was it bad? Is the guy stalking you? Gosh, tell me he didn't forgo the condom and give you STDs."

Derek shook his head with a small, fond smile, but Erica could probably detect his nerves and took his hand encouragingly. He knew she wouldn't push if he really didn't feel like telling her, but it wasn't fair to leave her all worried and rejected, especially cause Derek knew she wasn't the problem here.

"The night was amazing," Derek admitted quietly, "He opened doors for me, paid for our dinner, and even took me to an arcade where he used to work with his friend. I beat him at the basketball hoop so he destroyed me at Dance Dance Revolution, and he was really funny and nice and he didn't mind talking for both of us. At the end of our date, he kissed me goodnight and I didn't want him to go so I invited him up to my loft and he asked me if I was sure because he would still call me if we didn't have sex and that made me realize how much I wanted to have sex with him so we did. Three times."

Erica spent half a minute wordlessly taking it all in, looking a bit confused, but otherwise impressed. Then, she asked the question Derek had dreaded from the beginning.

"So... what's the matter?"

"I don't know how to date a guy," Derek confessed, and it sounded so stupid said out loud, "I haven't had a normal relationship since I was sixteen, and that only lasted two months. The night was supposed to be about experimentation."

"And you fell for him?"

Derek's eyes widened at Erica's bluntness, but the professor's arrival saved Derek from having to answer. As the lecture started, Erica leaned over to gently grab his arm and give it a reassuring squeeze.

"You're a catch, Derek," She said, low enough that others wouldn't here, "And maybe life is finally paying you back for all the bullshit it put you through by throwing this guy into your way. Don't miss out on love just because you're afraid it will turn to misfortune."

Derek promptly ignored the lecture after that, and did what he did best when he was feeling anxious. He daydreamed of going on dates with Stiles (the guy who had swept him off his feet with his sprinkler dance move) and imagined a scenario where everything goes bad and they break up after just a few months, leaving Derek heartbroken and regretful. Would it still be worth it?

Yeah, it totally would.

After the lecture, he and Erica made their way out of the university building and Derek felt lighter on his feet as he fished out his discarded phone. There were four new messages from Stiles, all sent an hour ago. 

Sorry. Did I come on too strongly? 

I really enjoyed our night together and you're the only guy who hasn't bailed on me after my first word vomit. 

Could we meet up again? 

Even if it doesn't include sex.

Erica read the texts over his shoulder, and Derek let his friend see the response he typed out without a second of hesitation.

I'll only agree to a second date if there's a guarantee it ends with you in my bed and I get to go down on you this time.

The answer came almost immediately.

I'm definitely okay with those terms.

Derek grinned and made a mental note to buy new condoms on his way home.

Lots of condoms.

Stiles @ Derek:

[bukguhope]

CLICHÉ| jjk 01

summary:

"how cliché"

"just pretend, you owe me"

pretending to date never ended badly, right? especially when there's a dark secret involved

themes: jungkook x f.reader, enemies to lovers, childhood friends, mature

- next

the club was heaving, packed wall to wall with bodies. you look out into the crowd, having just entered the place you attempt to look for your friend. but with how busy this place was there was no point. deciding to step to the side, but stay by the entrance, you pull your phone from you small bag and text your friend that you had arrived and you'll wait at the bar for them. making sure it was on vibrate, as you clearly wouldn't hear a call in this place, you head to the large bar to the side of the club. luckily, stools topped with a bright cliché red surrounded the bar and just as you arrived someone hopped off one. not wasting any time you plop yourself on one and wait to be noticed by a bartender. and not long later one comes over, a very handsome one at that. once he's stood in front of you, you recognise him. "jungkook?" you ask, loudly enough for him to hear and he squints his eyes before they widen slightly. with a small smile slowly coming across his face, instant memories of school flood your mind.

"jungkook?" you ask, loudly enough for him to hear and he squints his eyes before they widen slightly. with a small smile slowly coming across his face, instant memories of school flood your mind.

                                                     ~~~~~~~~~~~

"you know she has a crush on jungkook right? so she definitely hates you" your friend, hoseok, states as you both stare over at the pretty girl, lily, laughing with her friends at their lunch table.

"why would she hate me?" hoseok chuckles beside you, taking a bite out of his food before elaborating

"that boy is stuck to your side like glue" before you could question any further the man in question bounces over and sits next you on the table, arm slinging over you shoulders as he does so.

"what's up guys?" he asks, only making your other friend give you look as if his point had just been proving. rolling your eyes you turn your focus on jungkook.

"nothing much where you been?"

"mr rien kept me behind, something about getting distracted in class blah blah blah" you laugh before offering him some food from your plate by lifting it slightly and pointing, as he was clearly staring. "feed me" he stated, making hoseok laugh.

"you two will end up together for sure" you and jungkook scoff in sync before you raise the food to his mouth, which he takes

~~~~~~~~~~~

"i can't believe my eyes" jungkook leans forward talking into your ear, smiles gracing both your faces. honestly, you never expected to see him again and if you did you thought for definite it would be awkward but no, it was as natural as always. like you were still in school.

"me neither, how have you been?" you soon realised having a conversation in here was not gonna work as jungkook furrowed his brows and signalled he could hear you. just as you were about to repeat yourself you hear a voice from behind.

"y/n here you are! " hoseok exclaimed as he placed a hand on your shoulder. "no way, jungkook is that you?" he asked, suddenly seeing who you were talking to. the men smiled as they shared a handshake, happy to reunite after so long.

"guys i end my shift in about half an hour wait for me and i'll join?" jungkook asks and you both nod your heads with big smiles "great i'll put you in a booth in the vip area come on" the pair of you follow him as he made his way out of the bar and showed you to a nice both in a more secluded part of the bar. "you can order through app, it's on the table" he mentioned before leaving and giving a quick wave on his way out

"can you believe it?" hoseok starts "how long must it have been? five years?" he questions

"yeah i know, wow five years" you utter in disbelief. he looked so different you ponder to yourself. in school he was so cute and innocent. now he had a sleeve that covered his entire arm, long dark hair and piercings on his lip, eyebrow and ears. he grew up for sure. the realisation of just how long it had been since you've seen him hits and you grow sad. he was your best friend and it stopped for that long. someone you once knew everything about you now know nothing, not one thing about him.

"are you okay?" hoseok asks curiously and you shake your thoughts from your head smiling and nodding

" let's order some drinks" you reply, somewhat ignoring the question. a swift half an hour later and jungkook rejoins the pair of you in the booth and you all begin chatting right away.

"so you two got together in the end?" jungkook inquires make you and hoseok share a look before laughing

"no no-" you begin between small laughter "i just haven't been able to get rid of him since school." hoseok scoffs, giving you a look.

"more like the other way around" he states making you all laugh

"so what's been happening with you?" you ask jungkook, curious to know what you missed these five years. sitting here next to him again made you feel like a school girl all over again. it made you miss being a teenager.

"iam actually a co-owner of this place so iam hoping you guys are enjoying yourself" he states making you chuckle before thinking how this was definitely not the career path you saw him taking but glad he was successful. before you could ask anymore hoseok's phone begins to ring and he stands, excusing himself to take the call. and almost instantly you were bombarded by jungkook, taking you by surprise

"y/n, how could you leave me all those years ago and why the fuck do you think iam just going to forgive and forget?" he begins making your eyes widen, you could've sworn you might have whiplash from the change in attitude. he was visibly upset making you confused

[untiltheendoftime]

Summary: Staring at a stranger leaves you with an empty plate of fries and a heart filled with the slightest bit of love.

gif by @stevenrogered

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: A normal amount of swearing, other than that it's pure fluff.

Writers note: This is for @celestialbarnes "4k writing challenge"

Reblogs, likes and your thoughts are so much appreciated. Feel free to point out any errors.

    ─── ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ───

Can I steal your fries?

You had found yourself in a small diner, after another terrible date, with a large portion of fries in front you. Perhaps alcohol would've been more helpful to forget the whole day, but sadly your work schedule didn't allow you to get drunk and risk a hangover.

As soon as you sat down, you deleted the dating app off your phone, earning an amused look from the stranger in the booth in front of you when you had muttered something along the lines of "Fuck this shit." and "Might as well start referring to myself as a trash can if trash is all I attract."

You could feel the warmth of a blush rising on your cheeks when you heard the stranger chuckle and you were sure that you looked exactly like the ketchup on your fries. Why did you have to blush so easily? Fuck.

Unfortunately he was quite handsome, which didn't help your ketchup-face problem at all. His hair was rather short, though it looked like he was growing it out, and he gave off cozy vibes with the navy blue hoodie he was wearing and the steaming cup of coffee in his hands. He was far more than quite handsome. It was then that you noticed that his eyes, unfairly blue like the sky on a perfect summer day, were focused on you.

He fully caught you staring at him. Damn it.

In order to hide your embarrassment, you quickly adverted your eyes to the plate in front of you. Suddenly the fries were very interesting.

The sound of footsteps appeared and just when you had thought that you creepingly staring made the stranger leave, a muscular body came in sight and you were starting to feel anxious.

Thinking that apologizing was the best way to get over with this as soon as possible, you tried to come up with an excuse "Look, I'm sorry for staring. I jus-" you started bubbling, but he quickly interrupted you.

"Wouldn't have caught you staring at me if I wasn't staring as well, would I?" he said, his voice surprisingly sweet and when you had gathered up enough courage to look up at him, you were welcomed with a breathtaking smile.

Without any hesitation, he sat down in front of you and the anxious feeling quickly washed away, being replaced with irritation instead. Sure, he didn't look bad, but he was a stranger after all.

You eyed him suspiciously and he did the same, obviously mocking you. "I don't want to sound rude but I believe your coffee wants your attention more than me" you said, actually not really bothering to sound polite.

"Does sound rude to me, doll."

He probably used the nickname a lot, however it didn't stop you from feeling flattered. Not wanting to acknowledge it, and turning red again, you decided to keep your mouth shut.

The silence was starting to feel uncomfortable and from the way his brows slightly furrowed with thought, you could tell that he didn't want the conversation to end so soon.

"You're not here for the first time and I actually wanted to talk to you for a while." he admitted, "Even tried to get your attention, but all you did was stare into your phone and yeah" a faint blush crept up on his cheeks.

It took you a solid minute to process his words. Yes, you were a frequent customer, most of the times visiting after another date went downhill and sometimes you would google dating advice and gag at all the bullshit everyone wrote. You didn't exactly hate being single, though having someone to come home to wasn't the worst thought you could think of. The more dates went wrong, the more you and your family, especially them, began to wonder what was wrong with you.

"Always love a stranger watching me" you joked and instantly grimace at how badly you had worded it. That's not what you meant.

His laughter filled your ears and it was full of warmth and so contagious, you had to laugh as well.

After the laughter had died down, he cleared his throat and extendended his right hand to you "I'm Bucky" he softly said and while shaking it, the contact sending slight shivers down your spine, you tell him your name.

"Now that we know each others names, can I steal some of your fries?" Bucky asked, not waiting for an answer as he reached for your plate.

"No" you chuckled out, playfully swatting his hand away, and he glared at you for a second before dramatically putting the hand on his chest, claiming that you've really hurt his feelings and it might take decades to mend the pain in his heart.

The conversation between the two of you flowed nicely. He told you about his visits to different countries and you would ask questions about how the people were and if the food tasted good, the latter truthfully answered with a "I usually went for cheeseburgers due to the lack of time."

You had told Bucky how much you despise going on dates now because your family would pressure you, saying that the problem has to be you since your ex shortly found a significant other after the break up.

Bucky's jaw tightened at that and he voiced out how fucking rude your family was, wondering if they don't have anything else to do than rubbing their noses in your love life. Seeing that he has was way more understanding than your own family, empathy had always been something all of them undoubtedly lacked off, made you even more fond of the handsome stranger and you felt comfortable sharing personal pieces of your life with him as hours passed by.

Midway through your story you paused to look at your plate, realizing that it was almost empty now and the only reason why he didn't stop your rambling was because it allowed him to eat your fries.

"Stop taking my fries." you muttered out, causing him to grin.

"What are you gonna do about it?" he questioned, voice heavenly charming as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows at you.

Perhaps this was the most cliché thing to do, but the look he gave you when you threw a few fries at his face was something you wish you would've gotten a picture of. His eyes were still slightly widened in shock when he, not so attractively, shoved all of the fries in his mouth, making you laugh at his childish behavior.

"I got to eat the fries. Seems like I won, sweetheart." he proudly declared.

Banters and stories later, your eyes caught a glimpse of the clock on your phone and you frown when it reads two a.m

You jolted up from your seat, calling out an apology to the old waitress who seemed to be startled by the sudden change of energy. "I do enjoy talking to you, but my shift starts in six hours." you said, your voice laced with a hint of sadness.

Bucky stood up as well and reached for your phone that was still lying on the table. He handed it you, signaling for you to unlock it, and when he had access to it, he quickly typed in his number and pressed the saving button. A cheekish smile on his lips when he puts it in your grasp again and you can't help but beam at him, too.

He held his hands up in defense, "Figured you need my number after you have deleted all the datings apps."

You rolled your eyes in response and, who knows where the confidence boost came from, step closer to him. "Goodnight" you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his cheek and they instantly heat up, which made him look adorable. Maybe you had found someone who blushes just as easily as you.

Once you had entered the front door of your apartment, your phone gave off a noise, signaling that you had received a message. A quick glance at the screen told you that it was Bucky asking if you came home alright. He definitely is a gentleman. Just when you were about to answer him, another text popped up. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop you from grinning like a lovestruck teenager while reading it.

Bucky:

When will you take me out?

Sincerely, your trash

    ─── ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ･ ☪ ───

First story on here. Hopefully it's not that bad? I would absolutely love to hear some feedback. Thank you for reading everything ♡

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[crackheadgeminibby]

better for you

pairing: chris evans x female!black!reader

warnings: age gap, angst, language

word count: 2.7k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and is very poorly edited, i’m sorry but on the plus side, i surpassed 400 followers yesterday!! so thank you to those 400+ people🤍🤍

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape of form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person. Much less a jealous girlfriend. Not at all. Never had and you thought you never would.

You had practically raised yourself as your parents had always been more preoccupied with their jobs. You loved your parents, you really did, but when your high school counselor told you that you could graduate high school a year and a half early, you took the opportunity to start college immediately and move out of your parents’ house. This drastic change when you were so young made you become extremely independent. Which is why your relationship with Chris worked almost perfectly. You valued your independence, as he did his, and you respected his independence, as he did yours.

As a corporate lawyer that had multiple firms around the country, you traveled a lot, needing to meet with clients. Chris, as an actor, also traveled a lot.

You both trusted the other without a doubt at the beginning of the relationship despite that Chris was, at first, a little wary of being with someone as young as you. As a 24-year-old, he thought that you should be living your life, partying, sleeping with whomever you wanted without being tied down, but you had explained to him that despite your age, those were not the things that you wanted.

You and Chris were truly made for each other, knowing the other more than they knew themselves. You would even dare to call yourselves soulmates.

Which is why you could not fathom why you were in your current situation.

You had left early in the day for California, where you were overseeing the opening and start-up of your newest firm. Chris, on the other hand, had left 3 days ago to go on some trip his publicist had arranged for him. You hadn’t bothered asking what it was about, assuming that it was about ASP. Plus, you didn’t mind it: he had to do what he had to do.

But now, you couldn’t believe yourself.

You were sitting on your hotel bed, in a white and fluffy robe, fresh out of the shower. Your computer was open in front of you, the TV was blaring the news and you had your phone in your hand. It was almost 11pm but you had been doing this for at least 3 hours. All three electronics were talking about the same thing: Are Chris Evans and Lily James dating??

It was a bit your fault that people gave themselves the right to assume things like that, to be honest, since you had been the one to pressure Chris about keeping your relationship secret. You knew that people would talk and judge you for your 15-year age gap. You, personally, didn’t care and neither did Chris but his career was dependent on his public image and you didn’t want to hold him back, especially not at a pivotal moment in his life like right now.

So, you had agreed on telling your families and your very close friends and Chris had convinced you to let him tell his publicist, Megan. God, she fucking hated you. When Chris arranged for you guys to meet, she had called you “a walking, breathing PR disaster”. You had laughed it off calling her funny, but you knew that she was 100% serious. You really shouldn’t have been surprised that she would do something so fucked up at some point.

A bunch of different news outlets were pumping out new stories every 30 minutes, each article a little more detailed than the previous. It was all over the Internet and it seemed to be the only thing that people cared about today.

Considering the 8-hour difference between London and San Francisco, you hadn’t been able to talk to Chris at all since you got to your hotel. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to talk to him. He hadn’t even tried to talk to you. Why was he avoiding you and acting like he had something to hide?

You’re reading the latest Daily Mail article on your computer about how Chris and Lily apparently got to his hotel in the same car when you hear your phone ring on the nightstand. You don’t even bother looking at the caller ID as you reach for your phone, eyes still glued to your computer and answer,

“Hello?”

You hear a loud exhale on the other end of the phone before you hear Chris’ tired voice, “Baby, hi.”

You tense up slightly before asking, trying to seem nonchalant, “What’s up?”

“Have you watched the news today?”

You bite your lip, thinking, before replying, lying through your teeth, “No, why? What’s going on?”

Chris sighs again before answering, “Nothing, it’s fine. How was your day?”

You roll your eyes. Was he seriously not going to say anything?

“Fine, but it’s really late and I have to get up early tomorrow so good night.”

You hang up the phone before Chris can answer anything. You throw the phone at the end of your bed, frustrated beyond belief.

You continue to read the Daily Mail article as you hear a message coming in. You don’t bother to get up to pick up your phone as you see the message appear on your computer screen a couple of seconds later.

chris💙, 11:01pm:

Good night baby girl. Good luck tomorrow🤍

You groan loudly at his message. Even when he had pissed you the fuck off, his words still brought butterflies to your stomach.

You disregard his message and finish reading the article. You roll your eyes as you close your computer and get up to put it on the hotel desk. As you’re walking back to bed, you take your phone from the end of the bed and put it on its charger, ready to go to bed.

You’re not sure how you manage to fall asleep that night as your mind swirls with unending thoughts.

When your alarm wakes you up at 6am the next day, you feel groggy, having slept very badly last night. Which was to be expected.

You get up and change while eating a protein bar before heading to the hotel gym: you needed to do something to get your energy up. Once you finish your workout, you head back to your room to get ready for the day.

When you get out of the shower, you open your computer and, having left the Daily Mail website open last night, you see a new article posted 2 minutes ago: Chris Evans and Lily James seen on a date in a London park.You groan loudly, closing your computer as you hear that your cell phone is receiving multiple texts.

You reach for your phone on the hotel desk and your eyes widen as you see your lock screen.

5 missed calls

12 messages

You open your Phone app seeing one call from Chris, two from your best friend, one from your brother and one from your mom.

You open the Messages app as a new message from your brother comes in.

will, 7:31am:

When did you break up with your boyfriend? And why didn’t you tell me?

you, 7:32am:

i didn’t

yet

will, 7:32am:

You know i’m gonna fucking murder him right?

You smile fondly at your brother’s concern, chuckling softly as you type your reply.

you, 7:33am:

as you should(:

You open the rest of your messages, mostly asking the same thing. You didn’t feel like talking about it anymore so, you ignore them until you get to your conversation with Chris.

chris💙, 5:22am:

Hey, I’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now.

I’m so sorry

Call me when you can, please. I really need to talk to you.

You bite your lip as you think about what to answer. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this right before your firm’s opening. Shaking your head, you lock your phone, putting it back on the desk, getting dressed.

As you get back to your hotel room, exhausted from your day, you hear your phone signal an incoming text for the millionth time today.

You sigh loudly: you knew it was Chris texting you again. You had been ignoring his texts all day because you didn’t want to get in a bad mood while you were opening the firm.

You put your purse and work bag on the floor, unlocking your phone. You open the conversation with Chris, scrolling through his messages.

chris💙, 6:15pm:

I’m leaving a bit earlier than I planned, I should be home tomorrow morning.

Are you back in Boston or are you gonna stay in LA?

You sigh, feeling guilty that you had been ignoring his texts all day. You start typing a reply, your finger hovering over the send button for a couple of seconds before clicking on it.

you, 6:17pm:

i’m still in san francisco i’m leaving tomorrow morning

As soon as your message goes through, you see the three dots pop up in the conversation.

chris💙, 6:17pm:

Oh my God, hi. Are you okay?

Can I call you?

You chew on your bottom lip: you really didn’t think he was going to answer that fast.

you, 6:18pm:

i’m about to take a shower then i’m gonna go to bed i’m really tired sorry

chris💙, 6:18pm:

Okay, I’m sorry

Good night

You groan loudly. You really didn’t know why you felt so guilty: he was the one running around with another woman. As you think about this, you realize that you didn’t really know who she was.

You shake your head at yourself as you pull up Google on your phone and look for her. You don’t even realize it but, 20 minutes later, you were now at the oldest post on her Instagram.

You curse at yourself, dropping your phone on your bed, and head to the shower.

You stay under the hot stream of the shower for at least an hour before you finally get out, toweling off.

You order some room service for dinner, settling down in front of a random show playing on the TV. After pushing your food around for half an hour, you sigh loudly, put the tray on the hotel desk and get under the covers before finally falling asleep.

You had not slept very well so you had been in a rush to leave the hotel and catch your flight to LAX in the morning. You were exhausted and hungry when you got to your shared LA home with Chris but there was no food in sight, considering that neither of you had been here in a couple of months.

As it was not too late in the day, you decide to take a nap and order some food after.

When you wake up a few hours later, the sun has already completely set and the house is pitch black. You rub the sleep out of your eyes and take your phone before heading to the living room to order some food.

As you enter the kitchen and are about to head to the living room, you hear a deep voice, “Hey, you’re up.”

Taken by surprise, you throw your phone in the direction of the sound and scream, “Holy shit!”

“Ow… What the fuck?”

You’re breathing heavily, clutching your chest as you turn on the kitchen lights, brightness illuminating the area as you see Chris holding the side of his head.

“Jesus Christ, Chris! You almost gave me a fucking heart attack!”

Chris rubs at his head as he looks towards you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Your heartbeat starts to slow down as you roll your eyes.

“What are you even doing here?”

Chris frowns and replies, “Well, you never told me where you were going to be but when I got back to Boston and you weren’t there, I assumed you were coming here.”

You groan silently, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows,

“So, London seemed to be very fun.”

Chris shakes his head, looking up at the ceiling, before making eye contact with you, “I didn’t know that’s what the trip was about.”

You chuckle humorlessly, “Really, Chris? Since when do you go on trips, not knowing what they’re about?”

Chris exhales loudly, taking a couple of steps towards you, “I promise that I didn’t know. Megan planned everything and just sent me the info.”

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. Chris frowns before asking, “What?”

“Megan, Chris? Really? She fucking hates me, of course she would pull a stunt like this.”

Chris frowns again, shaking his head, “What are you talking about? She doesn’t hate you.”

You laugh, this time, actually finding this funny, “Chris, she literally called me a walking disaster.”

Chris struggles to find an answer to that: he knew that Megan used this exact kind of formulation so he couldn’t deny it.

“And you know what? It’s fine. Maybe you really should be dating her instead of me.”

Chris’ face contorts in a mix of hurt and anger, “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Because it’s true, Chris. She’s better for you. She’s actually your age, not a fucking child compared to you. She can give you the things you want from life that I can’t. Maybe it’s better that way.”

“What way?”

You shrug your shoulders, looking at your feet, mumbling, “If we weren’t together.”

Chris scoffs, “You literally have to be kidding me.”

Chris takes large steps, making his way towards you and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve told you before and I will tell you again. I do not give a shit about your age. And I thought you didn’t either. So, what’s the problem here?”

You bite your bottom lip nervously, “Because what if what Megan said is true? I mean… If people find out that we’re dating, the shit talking would never stop. I can’t do that to you.”

Chris sighs, enveloping you in a hug.

“Baby, it doesn’t matter. None of it matters if we’re not together.”

He lets you go, stroking your cheek, “You’re it for me. There is no one better for me than you. And no one is going to take that away from us. Not you. Not Megan. And certainly not my fans. If they love me as much as they say they do, then they’ll respect you.”

You chuckle slightly, “Chris, I don’t know what kind of fantasy you live in, but in real life, that’s not how things go.”

“Okay, but who cares? There’s two people in this relationship, you and me. Not you, me, Megan and my fans.”

You scoff, mumbling, “Yeah, tell Megan that.”

“I will. The same goes for her. I didn’t know she actually meant those things about you and I’ll tell her that she needs to knock that shit off.”

You sigh, nodding slightly, “Okay.”

“And, baby, I’m sorry.”

You furrow your brows, trying to understand, “I never should have agreed to Megan’s little plan thing. But, most importantly, I should have told you as soon as I knew. It’s just that I kinda owed Lily a favor and she needed this. But it doesn’t erase the fact that I should have been honest with you and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

You sigh, “I know, it’s okay. I knew this kind of thing could happen when I decided to be with you, and I overreacted a bit so I’m sorry too. I knew it wasn’t true and I should have asked you about it instead of ignoring you. I just… couldn’t let go of the fact that maybe you should be with her.”

Chris shakes his head, “I shouldn’t. And I never will be.”

Chris laughs a bit before continuing, “Sorry, but you’ll have to try harder to get rid of me.”

You laugh loudly, throwing your head back. Looking back at Chris, you smile warmly before hugging him,

“I love you, Chris. Like, a lot.”

Chris chuckles, squeezing you tighter, “I love you too.”

[yoshkeii]

"𝚄𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍."

࿐ character(s): Daishou Suguru, Atsumu Miya, Sakusa Kiyoomi

࿐ genre: angst

࿐ type: headcanons (hcs)

࿐ requested by: dumpsterfireinc

⌦ find the continuation here;-  “𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎.”

⌦ tw/mentions ; yelling, arguments, swearing/curses, cheating (atsumu’s)

⌦  male!reader (he/him)

⌦ 'can I ask for hcs for Daishou, Atsumu, and Sakusa having a really heated argument with male s/o. During the argument the boys say something really mean to their s/o that s/o starts to cry. Before the boys could start apologizing s/o just blurts out that he wishes he never met them and leaves.’

A/N: (i changed it slightly if you dont mind-) we got three new bois im writing for, lets hope i get their personality right. so i apologize in advanced if they seem ooc! (youcantellwhereihalfassedshitimsosorry-)

𝙳𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞:

→ the argument probably started with his slight manipulative personality and mocking sense of humor, it usually didn’t get to you but lately it has been hitting too close to home. letting it slide with the silence of your voice and change of mood each time.

→ coming back home you didn’t know it would evolve into this, but Daishou Suguru, your boyfriend of 2 years. noticed it and decided to question you.

→ the air was tensed within the shared home you two lived in, it was suffocating despite the room being open and wide. hearing the dark-olive hair male behind you, who was clearly speaking to you. hearing words that you couldn’t comprehend to be anything but venomous.

→ each word stung like a snakes bite. ironic for his previous school’s mascot.

→ Daishou had kept going on, stabbing at you word after word.

→ “You’ve been acting weird all day, what’s up with that?” “..even recently you’ve been off.” “hey are you even-”

→ before Dai could even finish he heard you raise your voice, seeing your hand clench around the doorknob of your guys’ shared rooms.

→ “WHY DONT YOU SHUT UP FOR JUST A SECOND!?” “ YOU..Y-you.. should damn well know w-why I’m acting ‘weird’ and shit, babe.” “You know those- those mocks and insults- you- you fucking call ‘jokes’ aren’t really jokes. Daishou.”

→ your eyes kept low with the casting shadow from the lack of lights in the hall. but the shakiness of your voice signaled something in him, but his stupid pride wouldn’t let down.

→ “Are you serious right now, y/n? We’ve been dating for fucking almost 3 years and now they get to you-” “..really ridiculous of you.” 

→ it went off afterwards. just the words being said at each other with such emotion, none of you have seen each other like this... well.. not towards one another. it was just foreign and strange.

→ “you’re such a sensitive crybaby, fucking christ y/n.” “and if those weren’t jokes, you’d still damn take it like nothing.”

→ freezing as soon the words slipped out from his lips, it grew densely silent. your hand slipping off the doorknob, gaze lowering down onto the floor. only focusing in on the shoes kept on.

→ “..h-hey, babe- i- didn’t-” Daishou realized the words he said, it may not be harmful to most, but knowing you. he knew you hated being called anything of the such, even the shit he decided to add made his heart ache with regret.

→ watching you hurry off towards the front door, to supposedly leave, he grabbed your wrist. before you whacked his hand away, 

→ “D-dont fucking touch me. I don’t w-wanna... fuckin hear it. Not now. Or even ever.” “..i should’ve never met you, i was damn stupid enough to think this will last longer with that- dare you did.” “..you probably never loved me.”

→ watching you slip off outside in the night, he didn’t know what to do. hands clenching into fists, as he heard your steps fade away and into silence. the air was more tensed, more suffocating. his mind was clouded with something unfamiliar to him.

→ ‘..how did he know about that.’ 

𝙰𝚝𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚞:

→ you always had a sneaking suspicion. you always did. that instinctive feeling ;lm, jn your gut that you should’ve trusted. it was dumb of you to push it away because of the hope you had. well... false hope.

→ you always caught him not at the spot after his practice, the usual spot. always questioning his team to know where he could’ve ran off, they all gave off a shrug and sometimes a slight assumption you followed. leading somewhere more secluded and hidden, to avail to not find him.

→ stumbling back to the previous spot you seem him slink his way at the same time from around a corner... or somewhere. waving up at him and happily greeting him with the usual smile and hug, you question how his hair looked more ruffled and messed up. as if hurried and ruffled up. Atsumu giving a silly excuse of whatever, you shrugged it off. continuing on with the rest of your days together.

→ this would continue a few times. but different things would seem off about him every time, and you took note. occasionally questioning again, before being shot down with an excuse. taking in it again just to not escalate things.

→ as time passed. you began to grow assumptions, noticing how distance he was becoming, having ‘plans’ already up which were not with you, and he often came home late from it. or not, and came home the next day. not even the morning.

→ sitting on the bed of your shared room, you stared idly at the buzzing phone on the nightstand. ‘..’tsumu’s phone is going off.’ as curiosity grew the longer it went on, your boyfriend was in the shower so it wouldn’t be too much of a harm right?

→ peering over to look at the illuminated screen, you blankly stared at the text messages. reading the messages word for word and slowly, ‘..who..’ 

→ staring at the messages and the sender, you knew it was someone who had a liking of your boyfriend... should you even call him that now?

→ swiping the phone from its original position you just watched the messages keep going till it stops to the recent time. you didn’t open the app, but just merely stare at the name. it had a cute nickname and all, similarly to yours. mind becoming hazy and clouded, you didn’t know how long you were staring at Atsumu’s phone till his raising voice snapped you out of the trance.

→ flinching as he snatched his phone away from your hands, you stared up at the fake blonde who had just gotten out of the shower simply wearing nothing but casual sweats with a damp towel hanging off his shoulder. 

→ “Hey! y/n why were ya’ staring at my damn phone?” his gaze was ironed onto you, meeting your [e/c] eyes. you could tell he was furious and he was getting ticked off by each silent second you let by. “not gonna speak? are ya braindead or something honey?”

→ seeing you softly mutter words but it was too quiet to hear, almost like a whisper. but besides the way it was heard, the words itself were not light and gentle.

→ “..why did you cheat..” 

→ a sudden jolt hit him, “..c-cheat? I didn’t cheat on ya’ baby, what are you talking about?” he lied.

→ “now.. you’re lying to me... ‘tsumu.” the softness of your tone was quite concerning, it was saddened and dismal. the building of tears daring to fall any second, you just stared at him with the distraught expression.

→ “What? I’m not ly-” before the fake blonde could slip out the rest of the word, you jumped in.

→ “You are LYING, Miya. Stop acting like you aren’t.” quickly standing up and moving to the side.

→ “How did you even know?” he yelled back, knowing it was worthless to keep up his lies and fake pretending.

→ “Those damn texts-??” you pointed towards his phone that his fist was holding. “..a-are you stupid?” the wavering of your voice made you regret speaking, but it was inevitable and shittier if you left your feelings unsaid.

→ Atsumu’s thick brows furrowed down, “Wait- So you’re telling me ya snooped on my phone?! The fuck is wrong with you!” “..can’t I have some privacy? can’t I!? Y/n!?” he snapped back.

→ “What’s.. wrong with me? With ME-? Miya..” averting your gaze for a quick second, you looked back as you poked him roughly, “..you have been.. been- fucking.. Cheating on me this whole time. A-and.. I know you have been-! Those times you’ve been slipping off after practice. you leaving off to ‘hang out’ with friends? What a fucking. load. of. bullshit. Miya.”

→ tears were dripping down from your eyes, before you bit down your lip for the next response. while the blonde could only stared in silence, conflicted.

  → “I-..I really thought you loved me, that whole time.. really did. and i was a damn fool to have such hopes.” you had hurriedly rushed off to leave the room, the quick muttering of an foreign phrase stabbed his heart.

→ “..i should’ve never met you either.”

→ he didn’t know what to do, but hearing the click of the front door opening and shutting accompanied by your running steps that faded. he knew you weren’t coming back. all he did was stand there in distraught, confusion, troubled, everything.

→ ‘what do i do now..’

𝚂𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚊:

→ he wouldn’t be the physical affection type person, but at times, you were an exception. knowing you liked to cuddle, gives hugs, and all that jazz. it often took a lot persuasion for him to get to cuddle whenever you had a chance too, having a schedule that often didnt mesh well.

→ so it wasn’t a big deal if it ended up into a confrontation about it, occasionally small arguments. but this one was unexpected, especially to you.

→ hearing Sakusa walk in your shared home, you looked over from your position in the kitchen. giving him a soft welcome home, asking “Hey, Omi! How was your day?”

→ “..pretty irritating.” he muttered from under his mask, pulling it down under his chin as he took off his shoes.

→ instinctively you walked over to hug him at least, but he steered away quickly. obviously denying it without a word. blinking at him, you took the sign and stepped away, apologizing softly under your breath.

→ you were having an off day yourself, some things weren’t going so well for you during the day till you got home. hoping you’d have some time with your boyfriend, wanting to cuddle and maybe a hug at least knowing how he is. 

→ “..I-..uh.. do you wanna cuddle after you shower or-” Sakusa interrupted you bluntly and rather quickly, “no.”

→ only biting down the rest of your words, you softly nodded. seeing him drift off into your shared room, supposedly gonna rinse up. sighing as you went off to do your own thing to wait, hoping he’ll feel a little better for the offer again.

→ he doesn’t.

→ raising your arms up to him as he walked out of the bathroom door, he doesn’t bat an eye towards you. making your heart ache slightly, “..omi? are you okay?” you began to follow him shortly behind into your bedroom.

→ “..didn’t i say i was irritated earlier.” he stiffly said, slipping on a shirt as he did.

→ “i-..i mean yeah but.. are you at me? I’m- uhh.. also having a bad day too y’know.” “i wanted to be with you.”

→ the air was dense. even if there was barely any physical aggression and irritation it would make you cower. as it settled down longer, Sakusa muttered something. it was so clear as day in the suffocating silence.

→ “you’re really so selfish you know that.” “..matches your clingy attitude.”

→ ‘he didn’t care. he didn’t.’ is all you could think of. it just rushed 

→ “..you think I’m selfish?” you repeated, your hands tightening around the edge of your long sleeves. nails almost digging into your palm. “do you really think that.” your soft and gentle demeanor faded quickly.

→ the wavy haired male turn to look at you, seeing your head and gaze kept low and averted from his. seeing your clenching hands, almost penetrated your own skin. instantly regretting his words. 

→ “y/n- I- really didn’t-..” stopping himself he sees the dripping tears fall onto the floor, then your sniffles.

→ “Just- just shut up. I n-need space..” already slipping pass and out the door, he went to go after you yelling out your name. seeing you freeze at the doorway, about to slip on a coat and shoes.

→ “..Sakusa. Just drop it. I don’t- wanna deal with this right now. You.. you made my.. day far worse.”

→ ‘he said.. my last name. not... not my first. shit.’ biting back what else to say, he stood there silently. watching you put on a pair of shoes before rushing off out into the cold.

→ silent fights and arguments is what scares y/n the most. it happens quite often but this was the most suffocating one by far, ruining his day. and his mind. letting the negative overwhelm him more. letting Sakusa’s word stuck in his brain on replay. 

[cockasinthebird]

It was awkward at first, which isn’t much of a surprise to Steve. This is a whole new world for him-  how would he ever even go about dating or flirting with guys, least of all Billy Hargrove. Girls he understood, flowers and chocolate and driving them to the mall and carrying their shopping bags, classic textbook stuff that he’s actually quite good at if he had to say so himself.

Hi was all he managed to write to Billy.

Hey ;) was the response.

Nerve wracking, dizzying, nauseating. It left him a mess for that entire weekend, making him incapable of ever even responding to any of his other matches on the apps, because he couldn’t stop thinking about Billy fucking Hargrove. Yet he also didn’t know where to go from there, and when Billy didn’t see it fit to send him a second message, it just died out right then and there.

But there was no relief, no Oh thank God that he wouldn’t have to even try and find out what it’s like with Billy- what sex is like with Billy. Yet the thought of it stayed. Every night, morning, day. Friday, Saturday, Sunday, all ruined by a crown of golden curls, broad shoulders, his musky stench, that ugly tattoo… It doesn’t make any sense to him still, but now whenever he thinks about how firm and strong Billy was, bumping up against him on the court, the way he almost admired Steve in the showers right before calling him a pretty boy, and his voice when he said it… it’s all too vivid now. Whenever there was a moment for it, his idle hands would slowly find their way past the border of his briefs, but after only a few strokes of his half chub he’d pull back with a loud and exasperated sigh.

Come Monday morning and he’s sitting in his car, hands gripping too tight around the steering wheel, students flocking to the front doors of Hawkins High. Yet somehow through the mess of reluctant teens, Steve still manages to spot Billy without even really thinking about it, like a gorgeous needle in a hormonal haystack, jeans clinging to his sculpted ass, the fabric around his thighs looking about ready to tear-

Steve shuts his eyes, squeezing till it becomes uncomfortable in an attempt to forget that he knows what Billy looks like naked; how freckles dust across his features everywhere, how smooth he is, how he’s oh so perfectly waxed-

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit.” Of all things that could have happened, Steve sporting a boner at school wasn’t rare but definitely the worst. Especially given the subject of his all too sudden desires. 

He had never cared to think twice about Billy when he wasn’t around, and now he’s the only thing on his mind. He can’t go in there like this, can’t face him like this, Steve’s body is too sensitive to even the slightest hint of Billy apparently. 

And he’s not going to jerk off in his car, that’s just… sad.

The fact that he makes it all the way home without a single speeding ticket is just dumb, lazy luck, and that he makes it to his bedroom before jerking off for the second time today is just impressive. At least he can still show some self restraint.

But only a little.

For when he’s done and ashamed of it all, he sluggishly drags his feet toward the shower, where as soon as the hot water hits his skin, he’s reminded of the locker room at school. And he’s reminded of all the times he has caught Billy stealing glances, only for those crystal blues to flee once they’ve been caught, maybe spit out a little toxic comment that’s barely heard in passing.

As he now looks down at his fully hard dick once more, yearning to a certain someone’s attention here in the nude, Steve closes his eyes only to be met by the prideful, girthy cock that even when flaccid Billy struts around with like he’s the king.

His lips pursed around a cigarette. His hands as they grasp the ball at practice. His fingers so nimble whenever he plays with a pencil in class. His smile that he flashes to all the girls. His tongue out to swipe as he grins at Steve.

“Fuck, ah-” he bites into his one hand as he cums into the other, white clashing with the pink of the bathroom tiles. And another, “Fuck!” as he slams the side of his fist against the wall of the shower.

Barely an hour passes before he’s hard and ready again, lying on the couch with old reruns of whatever on the tv, his eyes glued to the pics Billy has posted everywhere for his own conceited ego’s sake, and the hundreds of likes and comments he gets, of course.

But it’s hard not to like what you see, when you’re faced with self-confidence like this, and well earned at that considering his Adonis looks and frequent exercise routine. It wouldn’t shock Steve if he found out that Billy could lift him without breaking a sweat.

Actually it thrills him far too much to even consider, as he watches a video on instagram of Billy benching far more than what Steve weighs, and all the blood rushes into his already eager erection at such a speed he gets a little dizzy.

He almost misses the doorbell ringing in his intense, almost stalker-y field of view, and who the fuck even rings anyone’s door at almost 1pm on a Monday. A sigh and rubbing his eyes prepares him for the inevitable greeting of either mormons or jehovah's witnesses, or maybe he’s lucky to meet a travelling salesman who’s got a cure for crushing on people way outside your league.

The bell rings several times as he walks up to the door, and even after opening it up to the warm summer weather, it takes Steve several long seconds before he realises who’s standing there, toothy grin and denim clad with an arm up on the doorframe.

It hits him like a bullet to the heart, the shock of finding billy Hargrove here, in front of Steve who’s barely dressed and-

Billy’s eyes hone in on the obvious tenting of Steve’s green boxers, and that grin spreads into the widest, flashiest smile that Steve has ever possibly seen.

“Is that for me?” he drawls out, lustful and daring.

And it sets the poor trust fund kid aflame, his heart pumping so fast and hard he feels it pulsate in his dick. The blood rushing away from his brain must be making him dumb, because the only seemingly obvious reaction Steve can sort out is reaching for Billy and kissing that smug look from his face.

It doesn’t take Billy long to get in on it; he pushes his way through the door and closes it behind him, strips clean of his denim jacket before tugging off Steve’s shirt. It all happens so fast he can’t even follow, the taste of Billy’s spit and the feel of his teeth biting disorients him to a point where he can barely answer the question,

“Where’s your bedroom?”

With, “Upstairs and to the left.”

Suddenly they’re on his bed, the memory of them stumbling up the stairs as they undressed distant and nearly gone, as the throbbing of his cock has never felt louder than in this moment.

Of all the girls he’s been with, being with a man is… different. He’s nervous, almost nauseous with it, yet has never been more excited, turned on, or harder in his entire life. Hands are everywhere but where he desires them as they push him into the covers, smoothly runs up and down his chest and abs then all the way up to cup his jaw. His face feels wet with kisses and how eagerly Billy licks his lips to taste everything.

It’s a rushed mess yet it doesn’t go fast enough.

“Touch me,” he whispers without thought as he tries to keep up with Billy’s pacing.

“Yeah? Want me to touch you, pretty boy? Touch your hard, long cock?” Billy’s tone almost cruel and rough at the seams, his hands going down to grip Steve’s hips with near brutish strength.

“God yes,” Steve moans at the slight pain, “I want you to touch me so fucking bad- jerk me off, please.”

“Please?” Billy barks out a laugh at that, “Those bitches you fuck into all that nicety? Please and thank yous.”

“They love it,” Steve says with confidence that can only come from personal experience.

But it only makes Billy laugh more as he pulls away. He sits up on his knees, cock hard and thick where it stands at attention between his muscular thighs. “That won’t work with me, princess. Don’t gotta ask like a good guy for me to fuck you, just say it and I’m here.”

“How easy of you,” the words are out before Steve even thinks about it. The rivalry they have is still new and fresh, it can barely be helped, and for a moment he fears that he has ruined the moment.

Yet Billy doesn’t move away. He slowly licks along the arch of his upper lip, something deep and primal in the way he stares, and a hand runs through his golden locks to push them away from his irritatingly handsome face.

“Look who’s talking.”

In a rush that seems natural to Billy, he flips Steve onto his side before laying down behind him and pressing the head of his wet dick against the crevice of Steve’s thighs.

“Wait!” Steve almost shouts as the churning of his stomach makes him sick with worry about the more technical functions of… this.

“Don’t worry baby,” Billy’s voice all of a sudden like silk, a range so odd and unfamiliar compared to his normal boisterous attitude, “I’m not gonna pop your cherry the first time we do this. You got me too excited for that, don’t wanna wait while I prep you like you deserve,” he whispers against the shell of Steve’s ear, and it eases every single worry he had.

“Oh…” The pent up nerves in his stomach vanishes, like a knot coming undone, every single muscle in his body relaxes into the sheets.

Well, almost every single muscle.

“Yeah, oh,” Billy chuckles and rubs his nose against the back of Steve’s neck, kissing his back. “I can be a nice guy, too. You don’t gotta worry bout a thing, just let me take care of you.”

Today has been… a long, confusing mess. From the boner he woke up with after dreams of Billy, to the one in his car, the one in his shower, the one on the couch, to the way Billy so rudely shoved his way into Steve’s personal space, up the stairs, onto the bed. Rude and hectic from their first kiss till now. Now he’s… nice? Steve feels a fool for falling for it, but at least he’s aware as he lets down his guard and allows for Billy to… do whatever he pleases.

Is this how girls feel whenever a hot guy is nice to them? Whenever Steve is nice to them? Doesn’t feel like the worst thing in the world.

So he nods and hums a light agreement.

“Good,” Billy hums, too, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl in the best way possible; the shivers down his spine almost delightful as they go straight to his dick.

And when Billy gently pushes his heated flesh in between Steve’s thighs, the wet pre lubing up the skin perfectly, it’s weird and foreign, but also impossibly erotic and thrilling, and suddenly all Steve can think about is how Billy’s cock would feel inside of him.

It’s no lie that that’s something he’s thought about before - not necessarily with Billy mind you, just in general when sliding into a soaking wet pussy, he’d often get almost lost in thought about what that feels like, and if this is any indicator of it, he’s even more eager for it now.

So eager he can’t help the long, breathy moan that escapes him as Billy moves into his embrace till they’re lying flush together.

“That good huh?” Billy whispers from behind, and Steve can only imagine the self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Rather than responding he moves, closing his legs tighter and grinding back against Billy, as to test his own boundaries with all of this - which has been something of a win, considering he really went from his first kiss with a guy to this within ten minutes or so. And the way Billy groans all pleasant and pushes harder into their meeting of skin jolts through Steve’s cock like a bolt of lightning making him spurt out pre.

“Yeah, keep your legs just like that,” Billy speaks uncharacteristically soft as he moves one hand down, his burning hot palm smoothly moving over a thigh and staying there for leverage, as he starts rocking back and forth. In and out. 

Steve’s breath stutters and he can’t help but put a hand over his mouth. It’s not uncommon for him to be overly vocal and enthusiastic during sex, but this felt… almost embarassing, the kind of blithe and soft coos and moans rather than deep, throaty groans making his cheeks red.

“Don’t do that.” Billy moves his hand up to grab Steve’s and intertwines their fingers. “I wanna hear you. Let me know what I do to you.”

His cock throbs with urgent need at those words. Such a deep, baritone voice that excites Steve to a fever pitch, his body burning up where sweat gathers down his back between them. It’s gross and stimulating all at once, as Billy thrusts between his wet thighs and holds him close, he feels like a virgin again.

And maybe that’s why Billy is treating him so kindly. Not that he disagreed with the fervor earlier, how crude it was to be manhandled like that, but this? This gentle rocking of their bodies as they together find harmy in the rhythm, it’s intoxicating. Steve barely even notices when his own hand sneaks down to wrap around his hard length, so lost in the moment he can’t think straight, can’t stop the sighs and moans that spill from his body as he melts into Billy’s embrace.

“That’s it,” Billy speaks softly like summer rain, “God you’re so fucking hot. Can’t tell you how long I’ve admired you in secret, thought about every single mole and freckle as I jerked off at home. This is all I’ve wanted for so long, I thought I was dreaming when I saw you on the app.”

Steve wants to respond, wants to say something like, “How do you think I felt when we matched,” but his mind is a fog of euphoria, barely able to even hear what’s being so dearly and honestly said as he can’t focus on anything other than the slickness of Billy’s cock hitting the back of his balls, nudging him closer and closer to the edge with every thrust.

“Your thighs are so nice and soft, clenching around me just right, arh, you feel so fucking good, princess.”

When Billy speeds up, Steve naturally follows along.

“I’m so close.”

Steve, too. The pent up feeling that’s been quickly building to an unbearable pressure point is becoming too much, hot and ecstatic like a volcano waiting to erupt.

“Wanna cum between your legs so bad, baby.”

“Ah- please,” Steve finally finds words and it comes out like a pathetically needy little whine.

He wants to wait- wants them to cum together like he’s seen on porn as fake as that might be, but it’s a sudden and rampant thing, blinding him with fireworks behind his screwed shut eyes. A feeling that can’t possibly be expressed in any other way than a loud, prolonged, almost shocked moan, as he cums into his own hand that he jerks with ardent intensity.

Whilst not simultaneous, Billy is not far behind; urged on by Steve’s alluring keening he sped up his thrusting and grinding like he’s in a race for the finish line himself. And it would be kinda humorous if it wasn’t so hot how hard he slams into the gathering of warm, soaked flesh. Oh how he pounds into Steve with all his sweaty might, grunting and groaning till he cums with a loud and lustful moan, his hand still holding on to Steve’s with a near crushing passion to it.

And then there’s silence, as they breathe out together, muscles relaxing, dicks flaccid and sticky with cum. It’s warm and nice and cozy, but it’s hard to enjoy for Steve.

Is Billy actually this nice, or was it just a play to get off? Did he do to Steve what he does to every other bitch that he gets with? What now? What’s next? Are they gonna be a thing or just friends with benefits? Wait, are they even friends? Fuck buddies maybe? All the thoughts that he didn’t have time to be anxious about before comes rushing in fresh and clear in a post-climax-clarity moment, and it stirs the pit in his stomach alive again.

When Billy squeezes his hand gently, and asks, “What are you thinking about?” whilst nuzzling into the nape of Steve’s neck, kissing him lazily as if almost asleep.

It… helps. The thoughts aren’t gone per say but they’re in the distance now, and all it took was a simple question- a sign of caring.

Steve turns around in bed to look at Billy’s drowsy expression, before answering, “Thinking about taking a shower. You wanna come with?”

Billy’s nose furrows and wrinkles as he peeks out past ruffled curls. “Can’t we stay like this a bit longer?”

It makes Steve’s heart beat different.

“Sure.”

[clairenatural]

Shy Nerd | Dean

Punk | Castiel

[ the world needs more of this]

college au! this ran away from me and ended up 2.2k whoops :’) i hope you like it! (also note i have no idea how motors work i am not an engineer)

There’s an open textbook on his bed, but Dean is ignoring it; instead, he’s scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. He doesn’t really understand Instagram, but Charlie had looked so shocked and dismayed when she found out he didn’t have one that he’d given in. He doesn’t post much—doesn’t have much to post, really, besides his car and LARPing with Charlie—but it sure is a good distraction from his physics work. He sighs and flops down on his back as he taps through stories. It’s a Friday night, so there’s all the usual parties, and clubbing videos, and group dinner shots. He frowns as he taps through Charlie’s story of a few of their friends playing D&D—he’d be there, too, if it weren’t for his exam. His physics final, on Monday, that he should be studying for. Instead of being on Instagram.

Dean is about to close the app and begrudgingly turn his attention back to his notes when he clicks onto one last story.

HELP NEEDED ASAP, it says, white against a black background, in all caps. Someone who is good at engineering. Or building. Or even just welding things. I’ll pay you, it continues, and then in pizza and beer. Please, in smaller font, directly below.

Dean pauses. He likes beer. And pizza. And building things. He could help out this—who posted this, anyway? It’s a name he doesn’t recognize. casanova.k. He taps on the profile picture. His eyes go wide.

Oh.

That guy. That guy from the hipster art party Charlie had dragged him to earlier in the semester, when she was still dating that art girl, and he’d ended up in a dark room thick with smoke, blurry with alcohol, talking to a guy about three levels of cool higher than him about…something he can’t remember. He just remembers hastily exchanging Instagrams as Charlie dragged him out of the party, ranting about her soon-to-be-ex.

And now he needs help.

Dean looks at his textbook. He looks back at the guy’s—Cas?—Instagram. He takes a deep breath and pulls up a message.

i like beer, pizza, and welding things

It’s smoother than usual, and Dean is proud of himself for about 2 seconds before he panics and ruins it: i’m an engineer, i mean. not just a rando with a thing for power tools, haha.

There’s an achingly long pause before Cas likes both messages.

This is how Dean Winchester ends up standing in the University’s metalwork studio, with 24 hours left until his final exam, staring at a multi-eyed, multi-winged, metal…thing.

It’s due next week, Cas had said. I know it’s last minute. The only studio space I could get was Sunday.

And Dean had said yes, like a fool, because he can never say no to boys in eyeliner with pretty eyes.

Now, staring up at the sculpture, Dean lets out a low whistle. Cas, next to him, groans and drags one hand down his face. “I know. It’s—this is why I need help, alright? I think I can still salvage it if I just—”

Dean, who has taken a few steps forward to admire the intricacies, looks up sharply. “What?”

Cas frowns back. “What?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I mean—I’m not an art guy, but this metalwork is great, man.” He traces one of the welded seams. “You, uh. Obviously have good hands,” he continues, and then winces. Great compliment.

There’s a soft huff and Dean looks up to see Cas watching him, bemused. “My good hands,” he emphasizes it, and part of Dean wishes he could melt like solder. “Make me a good artist. They do not make me good at making things move.”

Dean blinks at him. “Excuse me?” Move?

Cas frowns again, but it’s more out of worry than confusion. His arms are crossed, and Dean tries very hard not to focus on the black ink swirling down his forearm. “I sent you the plans yesterday.” Now he’s chewing on his lip ring, too, and Dean rips his attention back to the steel structure to stop himself from focusing on that, either. He tries to think about these plans. He remembers getting the text, opening them……and immediately disregarding them in lieu of getting as much studying done as possible. Internally, he groans.

Externally, he nods, pretends to know exactly what these “plans” are. “Sure, yeah,” he covers, and hopes it’s convincing.

The metal…thing, because Dean still isn’t sure exactly what it is, has a cluster of wings in the middle—6, to be exact, and they’re poking up around 3 large rings. He reaches out for one of the rings, right between two of its welded eyes, and gives it an experimental push. It creaks, and sways, and Dean winces when he hears Cas suck in a breath behind him. “Sorry”, he mutters, but when he turns back around Cas is frowning at the art piece and not at him.

Dean is expecting to hear either it’s alright or, more likely, never touch my art again, but Cas just hums and steps up until he’s standing next to Dean. “What do you think this is?”

It’s the closest they’ve been since he arrived, and Dean takes a moment to observe the other student from this distance. He’s wearing black boots, black jeans. A t-shirt with a band on it that Dean has never heard of. His nails are black but the rings he’s wearing are silver, and so is the cross hanging around his neck. His hair looks like he either spent an hour on it or no time at all, and his eyes—like at that party, the one neither of them has mentioned yet—are rimmed in black. Dean, in his sneakers and second-hand jeans and faded Batman shirt, has never felt less cool.

“It’s an angel,” Cas continues, and Dean isn’t sure if he’s given up on waiting for a response or if he’d never expected one in the first place. “A biblical one. You know, the ‘be not afraid,’ kind.” He lowers his voice for the angel impression, which Dean didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t know what to do with the realization that it is.

“Don’t think this is what my mom meant when she used to say angels were watching over me,” Dean tries for a joke, and it’s half-hearted, but to his relief Cas chuckles anyway.

“Yes, well. The church preaches them as significantly more…cuddly.” Cas frowns. “It makes praying to them easier to sell.”

The cross around his neck is starting to get confusing.

“And these—these are gonna move,” Dean hazards a guess, reaching out to touch one of the rings again. “All of them?”

“They’re electrons,” Cas nods, which Dean supposes is an answer. “They should all circle the wings together, like the classic atom diagram. But I can’t—” Cas reaches out for the ring this time, hand landing directly above Dean’s. He pushes it, and it sways. Obviously frustrated, he pulls back. “I need it to be motorized, to look right. And I have the motor but don’t know how…to do it.”

And, well. That, Dean understands. He smiles and, in a burst of confidence, claps Cas on the shoulder. Cas looks up at him, startled, but his expression morphs into a soft smile at the look on Dean’s face.

“Let’s get her moving, then.”

He tries not to think about the time slipping away as Cas hauls out the motor, or when he hands Dean tools. He does not stare too long at Cas’ biceps when he’s screwing something in, or when they have to do last-minute welding. They get it hooked up, and it whirs to life, and Dean does not think about how late it is when Cas gives him a hug in his excitement, or when he promises to follow up on his beer and pizza promise at his apartment.

It’s there, back in Cas’ apartment, sitting on his living room floor, both a beer or two in, when Cas finally mentions it.

“You’re the one who gave me that idea, you know.”

Dean stops mid-chew and blinks at him. “Whg—” he swallows his bite of pizza and tries again. “What?”

Cas shrugs and doesn’t make eye contact. He picks at the beer label. “At the party we met at. The one we aren’t talking about, for some reason.”

Dean wants Cas’ ugly, blue, cigarette-smelling shag carpet to swallow him whole.

“You told me you don’t ‘get’ art,” he sets the beer bottle down to do air quotes, and Dean’s shame deepens. “Because you only ‘get’ science. And I told you they were the same thing. And you told me to prove it.”

Suddenly, it clicks, and Dean risks making eye contact. Cas catches his gaze and holds it steady, and he’s calm—not upset, Dean registers, which is a relief. “The atom,” he blurts out, and Cas grins. “Yeah.”

“Art and science.”

“Yeah.”

Dean is sitting up straighter now. “But, the angel—”

Cas sighs and pushes himself up from where he’d been leaning against the couch. He turns until he’s fully facing Dean. “Divinity,” he raises one hand, “and the core building blocks of humanity,” he raises the other. “Art,” he gestures with the first hand, “and science.” With the second.

Dean stares at him. “Are you calling art divine?”

“Art is an expression of divinity,” Cas shrugs. “Science is an explanation for it. But it’s—you know. The same thing.”

Dean wonders how he can say that so casually, so nonchalantly. He wonders what would happen if he crossed the pizza-box distance and kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts instead, and Cas raises his eyebrows. “The party, I didn’t think—I didn’t think you remembered.”

“I assumed you didn’t,” Cas counters. “But you did. You do. Why didn’t you text me?”

It’s exactly what he expected to hear and it still catches him off guard. “Um—” Dean stammers, trying to think of a good excuse. Cas is just watching him—not staring at, watching—brows furrowed.

With a heavy sigh, Dean settles on the truth. “Come on, man. Look at me,” he scoffs and stares down at his jeans, the already worn knees even worse after the day spent kneeling on concrete. “I’m an engineering dork who plays D&D on Fridays and you’re—” he waves vaguely in Cas’ direction. “You know.”

The frown has deepened. “I don’t.”

“Cool.” It sounds so juvenile to say it out loud.

Now, Cas looks taken aback. “Dean. We met at a party where I voluntarily listened to you talk about string theory for an hour and a half.”

Dean doesn’t know if that’s a compliment or not. He buries any possible blush with a swig of beer. “String theory’s cool,” he grumbles into the bottle.

“Yes.” Cas agrees. “And so are you. Although—” he pauses and tilts his head. “I could have sworn you were in physics, based on how much you talk—”

Dean is so caught up in Cas Novak calling him cool that it takes his brain a second to process the word “physics,” but when he does he nearly spits beer all over the ugly carpet. “Shit,” he swears, already starting to scramble up.

“What?” Cas is following him, frowning.

“Physics final. In—” he checks his watch, “—16 hours. I gotta—” he still has time to water down the beer, study, and get at least 7 hours of sleep before—

“…Why did you just spend all day helping me if you have a final tomorrow?” Dean pauses from where he’s trying to find his other shoe to glance back at Cas, who looks so genuinely baffled it shoots a warmness into Dean’s heart.

“You needed help,” Dean shrugs, finally locating the missing sneaker and pulling it on. “Good luck with the angel, though, okay? If it gives you any running issues, feel free to—”

He’s pulling on his jacket when he feels a touch on his arm and realizes that, sometime in the past 20 seconds, Cas has crossed the room to him. “Dean,”

Dean pauses, and Cas…looks nervous.

“I like D&D,” he offers, and Dean stares at him.

“What.”

Cas levels his gaze. “There is nothing more punk than dragons,” he replies, incredibly seriously.

Dean’s brain short-circuits.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the exam panic, maybe it’s the 1.5 beers, maybe it’s Cas’ hand still warm on his arm, maybe he’s still caught up in Cas calling him cool and maybe his brain takes an extra second to load his self-consciousness on its reboot, but—he leans down and kisses him.

Cas makes a small noise but kisses him back almost immediately—but then he’s pulling back nearly as quickly, and he gently pushes Dean back by the shoulders when he tries to follow. Not far enough away to be a rejection, just…enough. “You have an exam in the morning,” he says this like an apology, and the warmth in Dean’s chest grows. “Text me after?”

Dean nods, then pauses, realizes what Cas just said, and nods again. “Yeah, I—yeah, I will.”

“There’s not enough alcohol here for you to pretend to forget this time,” he teases, but he’s smiling.

Dean flushes anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Cas shakes his head and pushes him a bit. “Apologize tomorrow. Go.”

“Okay.” Dean doesn’t move.

“Okay,” Cas replies.

“Okay,” Dean says, and leans down to kiss him again, a quick one, because he thinks maybe he can.

“Okay,” Cas repeats, but his tone is fond. “Go.”

“Okay,” Dean repeats back. But this time, he does.

The next day, after he aces his physics final, he doesn’t pretend to forget.