#the one time i don't have weekend homework and i try to have a nice afternoon this happens | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hannieween · 6 months ago

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lover | heartbreaker drabble | c.sc

You and Seungcheol finally get a chance to get away from finals, homework and your parents.

✧ pairing: choi seungcheol x female reader ✧ genre: fluff, smut (18+) ✧ aus: boyfriend seungcheol, uni student cheol, flashback drabble ✧ word count: 2.7k

✧ warnings under the cut!

✧ warnings: this drabble is connected to my heartbreaker series, so smut with plot, pussy whipped cheol, unprotected sex, pull out method [don't do this i do not recommend], big dick seungcheol, edging, cumming on skin, a little 🤏🏻 bit of breeding kink. pet names: angel, baby (hers) babe, baby, (his)

✧ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers ONLY. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

✧ author's note: this kind of came out of nowhere so please excuse the grammar and spelling errors lmao

four years before

Going on a mini trip together for a weekend was exciting. To you, it implied lying to your parents to get out of town, forgetting about finals, about restless nights of studying but above all, being with your boyfriend, Choi Seungcheol.

You told your parents you were staying with your friends for a sleepover, which somehow worked. But in reality, you were going camping with your boyfriend, whom they still have some reserved opinions about.

Seungcheol and you had been dating for six months at this point. And everything felt like a dream to you. Granted, your parents do not like him, despite their lack of comments about him. But you were young, and you were in love.

He is closer to graduating, so he seems more relaxed about university than you. The idea of going camping was his, seeing that you were about to reach a breaking point due to stress and sleepless nights. His power to convince you to drop everything and go was more efficient than you thought.

The windows were rolled down, letting the hot spring summer air sweep inside. Your boyfriend kept one hand on the steering wheel, and the other was busy grabbing your hand, playing with your fingers. And occasionally, he would slide it on your bare thigh, inching his fingers up and then down.

You were hot on the face and neck, eager to jump on him. You were still exploring a lot about intimacy with him, but God, you wanted him. You wanted him so bad it was nearly embarrassing.

So, when you got to the campsite, it was nearly impossible to yank your gaze from his thick body. The way his biceps flex as he worked setting the tent up. He had refused to let you help him to do the heavy work. But every now and then, he would just point at something and say, "Would you pass me that, baby?" partly because he knew what you were thinking.

It was as though he could read your mind.

The sun set; you had a nice afternoon with him. So, when it is time to get inside the tent, you felt so fucking nervous to be spending the night in the same bed, or sleeping bag, with him.

Few were the nights you both had had the chance to sleep with him. Mostly just naps. But the first time you slept together was some five months ago, when you had your first time with him.

So now, your body was so close to his, to his warmth. You shared the same sleeping bag that could fit the both of you. Arm to arm with him, your knee brushing his. He shifted positions, lying on his side next to you.

"Do you have to sleep shirtless?"

Seungcheol cocked one eyebrow at the sound of your question. "I always sleep shirtless," he replied, a smile tugging at his lips, making its corners twitch. "I sleep with even less, actually," he chuckled, propping his head on his fist to look at your face fully. "Why, baby, do you want me to put something on?"

"No," you mumble quietly, starting to feel hot on the face and this time, it is not because of the hot weather. "It's just distracting," you said with an airy tone, you sighed.

But the reality is, this is your boyfriend, you just have to endure the weight of being so unbearably and embarrassingly attracted to him.

He finds your awkwardness cute. Granted, everything you do is cute to him. So, a smile breaks free on his face, almost knocking the air out of your lungs over his striking beauty. "Distracting, huh?" he mumbled, his eyes scanning the features of your face, as if trying to memorize the way that they look whenever you are flustered.

You only gave him a nod with your head, feeling shy. But you lifted a finger nonetheless, and started tracing a line over his collarbone. "I like you," you whispered, though that much was obvious. You have already told him you were in love with him.

"I know," he chuckled, trying not to shiver under your light touch that was now trailing down the middle of his chest, between his pecs. "I like you too," he said, his voice beginning to strain over the tension he was feeling in his body.

"I know," you said too, breathing out a giggle and the sound of it appeared to have an effect on him.

His gaze went soft and he could no longer try to hide the way your touch made him feel. So he leaned over, placing a hand on your cheek, making your sweet gaze lock with his before slotting his lips between your own.

"I love you," he emphasized, the emotions fluttering inside him making his voice a mere shaky whisper. It is the need he felt for you, to feel you whole and close to him, to make you his.

Seungcheol had never been in love. Not like this. Everything you did, made him a little crazy. "I love you," you mumbled back, the sweetness of your voice was what egged him on.

He dived for another kiss, this time a deeper one, his lips captured yours, moaning in your mouth when you parted your mouth slightly, giving him access to his tongue.

"Baby," you breathed, breaking the kiss only for a second because his lips are pressing on yours repeatedly. His hands slid from your cheek, his fingers now tangled in your hair. "Cheol," you called breathily.

"Yes?" he hummed, peeling away from your lips so he could see your face.

"Did you..." you start your question, but then, "Nevermind," you shook your head lightly.

But Seungcheol is not content with that, obviously. "What?" he mumbled. "Tell me," he insisted when you just shook your head in reply.

You know if there is something that drives him up the wall, is to wind him up and then leave him hanging.

"Tell me," he laughs lightly and your heart jumps at the sound. Then, he climbed on top of you, trying to tickle the answer out of you. "You bratty little thing," he gritted when you tried to fight his hands off.

But he continued poking at your ribs with his fingers, enjoying the sweet sound of your laughter and your squeals.

"Stop, stop," you wheezed, brushing a tear from the corner of your eye.

Seungcheol decided to let his joyful attack die. He placed a hand next to your head, leaning over to trap your lips with his own, giving you a chaste and quick kiss.

He was just about to slump back on his spot next to you when your hand sneaked on his nape, bringing him into a hot, rushed kiss.

Defenseless, he grunted in your mouth, his arm gave in, so his body fell on top of yours with a crash. "Baby," he chuckled, trying to lift his bodyweight off you.

His protests were quickly muddled by your needy lips, kissing him fervently. He was moaning into the kiss already, swept away quickly by the warmth radiating from your body. And when eased the lower half of his body on top of you, you could feel just how hard he had gotten with just teasing you.

Oh god. You thought. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

"Babe," you muttered, emboldened by the fact that he had given up to the make out session amply. And you know that it was very difficult to him to stop once he had started. "Did you bring condoms?" you blurt.

It was as though a bulb ignited over his head. "Is that what you wanted to ask me?" he breathed on your mouth.

"Did you?" you pressed, his chest was squeezing yours.

And you were convinced now that he could feel the frantic beating of your heart.

"No," he admitted, cursing himself silently because that was at the top of the list of things he did not want to forget.

"Baby," you reproached.

"I forgot," he chuckled, continuing to kiss you.

But you could tell that the fiery need is dissipating with each kiss. He kissed you slowly, but then he broke away, and was just about to roll over when, "Please, just a little bit longer?" you asked, holding his bicep to stop him from peeling away from you completely.

He placed his elbows next to your shoulders, so his forearms are framing your head. "You know how this goes, angel," he said softly, his fingers brushing away the hair from your face when you stay silent, so he kept going. "We kiss, we want more..." he sighed heavily, but out of the tight pressure gripping his heart.

You knew the idea was crazy, but goddamn, you want him. And you were unbearably horny. "You could pull out," you suggested, the anxiousness fluttering inside you making your tone waver.

Seungcheol stiffened for a second, and then let out an airy chuckle, thinking you were joking. But when you remained looking at him, nervous, his smile dropped. "Baby, are you serious?"

"I am," you reply, warmth tingling on your cheeks, your eyebrows knitted. "Please? Please, babe. I want to feel you."

Seungcheol scanned your face with his eyes, over and over again and that is how you knew, his mind was reeling.

He leaned over, placing soft and sweet kisses on the corners of your lips. "I could get you pregnant," he muttered gently. "What if pulling out doesn't work?"

"I don't care," you blurt, feeling an ecstatic shudder invade you.

"You don't care if I get you pregnant?" he laughed, amused by the thought that you were so needy that you were starting to be reckless. "Wanna have my babies?" he mused, his voice low again, raspy, and so dangerously sexy.

"Yes" you whispered shakily. "I want you."

And that is everything he needed.

He went all in, truth be told, he used to consider himself strong-willed. But that was before he met you, and fell on his knees for you, basically.

In seconds, he worked on you to tear your clothes off. You were so horny that the cool air of the night did not get to you. He ripped your clothes off, like a mad man about to ravage you whole.

He kissed every single inch of your body, loving the way you called out his name, the sounds of your moans. But it was the way you looked at him that drove him absolutely crazy.

Seungcheol made a trail of kisses from your lips, to your chest, kissing your nipples, cupping your breasts with his large hands while he teased your nipples with his tongue, making you moan salaciously.

Good thing you were in the middle of nowhere and chances were, completely and absolutely alone, you thought.

He laughed breathily against your skin, sneaking a look at your face before continuing to kiss your tummy, trailing down. Then kissed your belly button, making you flinch at the feeling of his wet lips against a very sensitive spot.

His hands gripped your thigh from the upper-front area, so you got a glimpse of his fingertips digging on the plush of your skin before lapping up the juices from your pussy.

You thrashed, crying out in pleasure as his tongue laves at the taste of you. Seungcheol moaned with you in delight, giving your folds broad strokes with his tongue.

In the months you have been his girlfriend, you have had few opportunities to do this, so everything is so very new to you. Every feeling, every touch feels electrifying.

Seungcheol loved it. He loved that you were discovering this world with him. He was your first everything, and he was so eager to explore his deepest, darkest fantasies with you. And he knew that you were eager to do too.

He loved the sound of your voice, the taste of your skin, your pussy. He loved eating you out so fucking much he wanted to do that for hours, to give you orgasm after orgasm. And one day, he would.

"Cheol," you call out breathily, tensing and shaking beneath him. He had started to tease your swollen clit with his tongue pointed against it, swirling around it.

That unfamiliar but needed burning sensation was pooling inside your belly, and Seungcheol knew it was closer because of the sounds of your moans, airy, so very lewd.

You succumbed to your orgasm fast, enjoying the sweet, sweet pleasure consume you in shockwaves. You thrashed, crying out his name loudly, fingers curling in his black, unruly hair.

Seungcheol wasted no time, getting to his knees as you pushed his sweats and boxers down to his mid-thigh, he leaned on top of your body, slotting himself between your shaky thighs.

You could not help it. Your eyes wandered down his frame. Seungcheol has a thick body. Thick thighs, thigh biceps, thick neck. You swallowed hard, spotting his cock, fully hard, his cockhead glossy with precum.

He saw the needy look in your eyes, you want more, he realized. But he decided to stop and tease you a little, grabbing his thick, veiny cock, gliding the tip between your folds, nudging your engorged clit.

You winced and moaned, your hands flying to his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him.

"Look at me, baby," he muttered, his voice raw in need.

And you do. You looked at his eyes, he pressed his chest against yours before pushing his cock inside you. The warmth and wetness made him moan at once, his mouth parting and you saw his self-control dissipating as he started thrusting his cock inside you.

But he rolled his hips tortuously at a slow, calculated pace. Still looking in your eyes, enjoying the way your body trembled beneath him.

"Cheol," you called out breathily.

Seungcheol was going insane, he knows there is no way he could last long like this. "Fuck, you feel so good," he gasps.

"Seungcheol." you insisted, your teary eyes searching his face. "I think–I'm going to come," you gasped, closing your eyes and stirred on the sleeping bag, trying to resist the fiery waves rippling through your body.

Seungcheol moaned, unable to look away as you came on his cock. Your orgasm came fast, and hard. But he kept going, pushing into you desperately now.

"God, fuck," he gasped, dropping his head on your shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut. "Fuck!" he gritted, pulling out of you in a split-second.

You were both breathing hard against each other, but Seungcheol is shaking, rigid, trying with all of his might to not come. He decided to force himself to get you to your high at least one more time.

You waited, still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You felt almost embarrassed for coming five seconds after he went inside you.

But he recuperated quickly, positioning himself between your legs again, determined to keep fucking you raw. He was driven insane by the sounds of your moans, by the way you trembled and looked at him.

He edged himself two more times, overstimming himself. What did it was to think that one day, he might just keep fucking you full of his cum, and get you pregnant. He could no longer contain himself, pulling out of you to pump his throbbing cock with his fist, groaning loudly as spurts of warm cum land on your tummy.

He breathed slowly, trying to get his heart rate down. He looked at the mess on your tummy, the beads of white, sticky cum on your lower abdomen. Then, he looked at your face, thinking of apologizing.

But instead, he spotted the fascination plastered on your face, you were wide eyed, lips glossy, skin dewy in sweat. You like this, he realized. And that might have sent him into a frenzy.

"So," he begins, his breathing still ragged. "You wanna have my babies?" he smiled.

✧ author's note: this is not proofread i'm sorry. if there are some fluctuations between verb tenses, that is because i typed this in a mad state at @cvntrlseecvntrlvee who is the sole culprit of my seungcheol brain rot.

anyway,

✧ STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER 5 ✧ JOIN MY TAGLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTERS | BUY ME A COFFEE? (●'◡'●)

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orchidyoonkook · 5 months ago

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To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 8

Title: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You're just there to help JK with his final project, so why are you being doused in water, facepaint and smoke? Art. Art is why.

Warnings: T, language, fluff, angst, honestly this one's kinda wholesome and fun, some photogrpahy jargin in there, but nothing a quick google search can't fix if you really need to <3, it's mostly surface level jargin. Also the smoke machine works cuz JK has great ventilation due to the massive windows being open, so don't worry bout that XD, some light and fun name calling, some world building. Ask if you need clarification on anything. That's all I think!

Word Count: 11,684

Release Date: September 1, 2024. 4:30PM

A/N 1: Surprise! Happy JK Day.

PJK [7:36pm]: Saturday afternoon. my place. 11am. PJK [7:36pm]: bring an extra set of clothes, something warm. Sweats if you have them. PJK [7:37pm]: also, Im gunna need your shirt size

The first three weeks of November have flown by and dragged on at the same time.

The weather’s getting colder. You need a thick jacket if you want to be anywhere outside, and all leaves have fallen from the trees, leaving pines the only ones left with their winter coats on. Hot chocolate from greenhouse cafe has become part of your life’s blood so you don’t freeze, and gloves with pocket warmers inside them are once again a part of your everyday.

But November skies have returned. And you frequently set up camp on the drying grass beside the greenhouse, dressing your canvas with oil paint to their likeness as it’s the only paint that doesn’t dry the second it’s out of the tube in the cold, static air.

Jungkook told you earlier in the week the shoot would most likely be this weekend, and that he just had a few final strings to pull together before being able to confirm. So with that in mind, you intentionally tried to finish all your work before this weekend, knowing the shoot will take a while to complete.

He mentioned it may leak over into Sunday depending on how much you get done on the first day, which is fine with you considering you usually spend Sunday evenings at his place anyway. You’d consider it an extended edition of your regularly scheduled broadcast.

And speaking of regularly scheduled, you haven’t missed a single movie night since Nel left. Granted, it’s only been three weeks, but even missing the two you did because of Nel had made an impact.

You’d gotten so used to them, having that time to destress and unwind before the week starts. A nice little routine that helps reset you both mentally and physically.

Suddenly not having that was…a weird feeling you try not to remember.

And you are more than happy to never miss another one ever again.

You aren’t sure what Jungkook tells Adaline he’s doing during movie night, but she’s never interrupted you, not even once. And it’s something you are increasingly grateful for, because she is one of the things you destress from as your unspoken rivalry always amps up the closer to exam season you get.

It’s Thursday evening, and you’re in your room finishing up a Microeconomics 3 assignment while piano music plays on a speaker in the corner. You use it to help you focus, and it’s working its magic as you’re finishing your work in record time.

Music has always helped you work better, and you credit it largely with how you’ve been able to keep up with everything in your schooling.

Yuri’s in her room, doing homework as well you assume. Or maybe texting Tai—the dreamy, big dicked Ilcalos island Count—you swear she’s only put her phone down for sleep and showering, as she’s constantly checking to see if he’s messaged her. And you hope it turns out well for them, Yuri deserves someone who treats her well. Especially after the whole Jungkook debacle—which you’re not allowed to bring up—and then the poor rebound you aren’t allowed to talk about either. You’re just happy she’s finally found someone worth her time.

Picking up your phone, you shoot Jungkook a text back.

You [7:40pm]: okay! saturday at 11 sounds good. I’ll bring sweats and warm socks

You message him your shirt size too, curious as to what he’ll use it for, but you’re sure you’ll find out in due time. You always do.

Subject to many of his homework assignments, you’ve been posed and lit and adjusted every which way.

Jungkook is incredibly professional when you’re with him as a model. Light touches to correct posing, always with a ‘may I’ before he does, and he fills the room with kind words, good vibes, and fun music so you never feel awkward.

At first you were really iffy on the whole idea when he first asked in September, because it would be the prince of your nation photographing little ol’ you. You weren’t anything special—yet—and you’re still never one for being in the spotlight, or for being on camera. At all. But if it was just for homework, and you were helping out a friend…you figured why not?

It helped that all of your worries immediately faded when you saw the results of that first shoot.

An email from a very non-princely email address found its way into your inbox. The subject was the date of the shoot, and the only message inside being:

thanks. Hope you like them.

Let’s do it again sometime.

-J

When you opened the attachments you made a quick dive to catch the phone that fell from your hands in shock.

You looked…beautiful. Like you never had in pictures before. Not in school, or at graduation, not even in the ones you took of yourself.

You didn’t know you were capable of looking like that.

Like how he saw you. Captured you.

And you’ll never admit you’ve held your chin a little higher with every shoot since.

They make you feel powerful, attractive. More confident, and sure of yourself, as if you were always meant to be in front of a camera. Like you’d been in front of one since before you could walk.

They do that for you.

He…does that for you—with his pictures, of course.

Jungkook is very talented. Very skilled with his camera, and you find yourself looking forward to the concepts he comes up with every time. Trusting him and whatever his vision is wholeheartedly.

Though a small, immature piece of you is also pleased he still wants you to model, and not Adaline. That he finds you easier to work with over her.

Your competitive streak never fails to come out, even with the smallest, secretive things.

Take that Adaline.

You gladly help him out with his homework, and he does the same for you.

If you ever need a male reference or a profile study. Anatomy practice, features practice, likeness practice. Anything and almost everything, all you have to do is ask, and he sits still or places whatever you need in front of you while you sketch.

Hands, however, have always been a personal favourite of yours.

They’re one of those things that can be drawn a hundred different ways and never look the same. Always a new position you can put them in. Consistently able to shake things up. And one set is never like the others—like eyes. There’s little differences in all of them and that’s where their magic lies.

You do these studies at the greenhouse, it has the best light to shadow ratio. When you ask him for one, he’ll switch to working with one hand, while the other does whatever you tell it. Normally either placed on your table or if there isn’t enough room, which nine times out of ten there isn’t because of all your supplies, you stick your foot on the lower metal frame of his table and he rests his arm, wrist or palm on your up bent knee.

Due to this, you’ve unintentionally come to find out that his hands are very strong, very calloused, and very, very warm…

Also! Aside from hand studies, you love loose figure studies because they’re great warm up sketches. And what Jungkook doesn't know is that you have dozens of warm up sketches of him. Doesn’t know you sneak pictures here and there when you can, hiding them in a hidden album on your phone entitled ‘hmwk screenshots.’ And he definitely doesn’t know that when he’s sitting at the cafe, nose deep in assignments, you doodle his features or his outfit in real time.

A nose here, a jacket there. A muscular forearm covered in tattoos also tends to find its way onto your page every so often.

He’s got a good physique. And the ridges make for excellent anatomy practice. So does the intricate line work of tattoos, and fabric rippling. Especially in drastic lighting. Consistency is key in maintaining and improving your work and it’s not like any of these sketches will ever see the light of day anyways.

They’re just, well…practice.

A sigh escapes you, and you refocus on finishing your microecon work. You still have two more assignments to get done before Saturday at eleven.

“And why are you working with some random girl when I’m available, again?” Adaline asks. She’s currently sitting on Jungkook's couch in your spot. He’s setting up tomorrow's materials against the big white wall by the floor length windows that showcase his balcony.

It’s why he chose to live here instead of in the dorms or on campus. His place isn’t enormous, like most people would think, it has enough room for everything a regular student needs: bedroom, kitchen, workspace, living room, bathroom, even a guest room. But the one thing he keeps different is the big white wall where a dining room would normally be.

Jungkook’s place has high ceilings, 10 feet tall, which is higher than the average but not excessive. And the wall that connects his kitchen to the balcony is a perfect mock studio. He can even keep all his equipment there; lights, gels, backgrounds, tubs full of props, camera cases, lenses, and more all stored in neat shelving against another wall.

“Because students volunteered for extra credit, and she’s who was assigned to me,” a small lie, one he was sure that Adaline wouldn’t dig into too deeply.

“Why didn’t you tell me I could volunteer?”

“Because you didn’t need the extra credit?”

She pouts, and goes back to her phone.

Adaline also doesn’t know it’s you he’s photographing and that is one hundred percent intentionally planned by him.

He could sense something between you two after you made that one comment after fall break. He notices now how you stiffen slightly every time he mentions Adaline, and the one time he mentioned you in passing to test the waters, Adaline changed the conversion topic almost immediately. A look of annoyance, or maybe even insecurity in her eyes.

So he’s been lucky that Adaline has never wanted to see any of his schoolwork prior to or after the singular shoot he did with her.

Lucky she hasn’t seen your face fill up his screen constantly.

And extremely lucky that she doesn’t know about the hidden folder buried deep in his desktop labeled ‘eqpmt rcpts’ filled with dozens of candid shots of you.

To be fair, you don’t know about them either. They’re random, shots taken every now and then where he thought you looked happy, focused, or just existing. True candids of the most candid person he knew.

It started that day with his first assignment from Professor Hirmer. He’d taken those quick pictures of you painting, and then simply never stopped.

He has pictures of you in the courtyard, walking and talking to Yuri, you smiling. He has some he took on his phone when you’re over for movie night, invested in the film or talking to him. And a bunch of you painting at the greenhouse. It’s hard to take secret candids when he’s right beside you, but he manages seeing as you haven't caught him yet.

He even has a few of you and Nel, love clearly written on your face in every single one of them.

Whenever he spots you before you spot him, and he has his camera on him, he takes a couple.

They’ve amassed into a healthy sum, but he thinks of it as a harmless habit as no one will ever know. And it’s not like he’s following you around to take them or using them for anything nefarious.

He just likes taking your picture. Capturing your spirit, your candor.

Your realness.

You are wholly yourself, always, no holding back, all of the time.

And to him, it feels like coming up for a breath of fresh air.

“Hey!” you say as you let yourself into Jungkook’s apartment. You’d knocked but no one answered and it was currently 10:56am on Saturday, so you knew he was here. Plus, his door was unlocked.

“Jungkook?” you call.

No answer.

You take your shoes off after closing the door and locking it. He should really keep his door locked.

Very quickly become best friends with the couch, you toss your backpack of warm clothes on the floor while you wait for him to make an appearance.

There’s shoot equipment everywhere; lights in the corner, some with soft boxes on them, gels laid out on the coffee table, and what you’ve come to learn is a lens case sits on the couch beside you in Jungkook's usual spot.

Jungkook has also somehow managed to find some small trees in blue ceramic pots and what you’re pretty sure is a smoke machine.

But the most peculiar thing is what looks to be a kiddie pool up against the wall with a folded tarp at its base.

Well that's…interesting…

You hear a door open somewhere in the apartment and running water.

“Jungkook? That you?”

“Hey! Yep. Just give me a sec, I’m almost done.”

The water sounds cease and Jungkook makes his grand entrance as he turns the corner holding a large watering can. Your eyebrow raises.

“For the trees?” you ask.

“What?”

You point to the watering can currently making his veins pop.

He laughs, “Oh! No. This is for later. You’ll see,” and walks to the other side of the room by the pool.

“Aren’t we mysterious today,” you say, following him with your eyes. He’s in ripped black jeans that accentuate the muscle definition of his thighs, and a matching baggy shirt. When his back is turned you snap a quick picture. The fabric folds on his baggy shirts are some of your favourite mindless things to cool down sketch.

“Nah, just focused. We have a lot to get through today.” He sets down the watering can and you can see the moment the switch flips from friend to photographer. “The guest room is ready for you. There’s a clothing rack inside with each look labeled. There’s also makeup and face paint, if you could bring out the make up after you're done changing, that would be great. We’re gonna start with ‘Bright and Bold’, okay?”

You usually use the spare room as a change room when you have to switch clothes for a shoot. But they were always from your own closet. He’d tell you the concept he was going for and you’d bring a few options to choose from.

Makeup you were used to, though. Jungkook loves abusing your artistic abilities for his shoots in the way you decorate your face or body, saying they make his works a level up from the rest of his classmates.

They also usually make for some of the coolest pictures you have of yourself.

This is the first time he’s ever bought clothing, though.

You shouldn’t be as surprised as you are, this being his final assignment for an important class, and him being as serious as he is about his work and the final product. But you can't help it, you’re excited to see everything he’s chosen for the shoot.

For you.

For the shoot.

“Yep, sounds good. Be out in a few,” you reply. He nods in acknowledgement before moving to set something up and you don’t stick around to find out, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door lined hall.

The guest room is modest and clean. White sheets and gray comforter with, surprisingly, two throw pillows to spruce it up. The walls are white too, but you’re pretty sure that’s because Jungkook’s not allowed to paint the apartment per his landlord's wishes—a thought that still makes you laugh.

He could buy any place he wanted, but chose to rent. ‘To get the real university experience,’ he explained when you asked him the first time you went over.

Black furniture accents the room. A comfortable looking leather chair sits in the corner by a glass door that leads to the balcony. It has a small table beside it. There’s a dresser with a mirror in the other corner and of course, in the center of the room, is the bed. It’s a nice room. However, the newest edition is what’s keeping your eye.

Four shirts hang from the rack at the foot of the bed. The first is vibrant and colourful, the second a light neutral short sleeved V neck, third is strapless and skin coloured, and the last is made from thin black fabric you assume will be skin tight by the looks of it.

As promised, they’re all labeled with a sticker.

You throw your bag on the bed and grab the colourful one first. Its sticker says ‘bright and bold,’ and you put it on after removing the shirt you came in, then zip it up. The material feels heavy, durable and expensive. You check the tag on the inside seam and see it’s from Ilkaya, one of the biggest and most expensive fashion designers on this side of the realm.

Your eyes bug out of your head, and you try not to breathe too hard for fear of ruining it. Your routine of thrifting all your clothes makes you pretty damn sure you can’t even imagine how much this cost.

It feels good though, comfortable, not itchy. Really freaking expensive.

You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have to admit you look amazing. It fits perfectly in all the right places, compliments your skin tone, and even brings out your eyes. Begrudgingly, you admit to yourself that maybe there’s some sense in what the price tag could be. But it would still be a ridiculous sum for a jacket.

With one last look in the mirror, you grab the palettes, brushes and other tools off the dresser, and leave your designated dressing room for the day in favour of returning to the living room.

Jungkook’s got music going from your shared playlist. Insisting on making one after your second shoot together, when he decided you both agreed to the arrangement becoming a regular thing. It’s a good mix of both of your musical tastes, even though you guys figured out quickly that you liked pretty similar stuff anyway.

“What do you think? Does it work?” You ask as you turn the corner.

Jungkook fiddles with this camera before looking and pausing for a moment to take you in. You hope you look okay, but the weird look he has on his face makes you backtrack a bit.

“Is this not the one you wanted? It had the label on it. But I can go back and double che- ”

“You look amazing,” is all he says, and your worry slides off you instantly. He smiles wide, the one you’ve come to recognize as genuine.

“Thanks. But the colour’s doing most of the work for me,” you say, smiling back shyly.

He has a white background set up, and two differently coloured gel’d lights sit on opposite one another, a third, smaller floor light faces the background. A backlight, he’d call it.

Bright and Bold indeed, though there is the matter of-

“What do you want me to do for my make up?”

“Actually,” he sets down his camera gently on a table, “Is it okay if I do it? I want it to be a little more on the amateur side and I don’t think your years of refined talent would let you get the exact look I want.”

That’s new. But you're here to stand and look however he wants you too, so you allow him with a nod.

“Sure, where do you want me to sit?”

“Here’s fine,” he says as he pulls a stool that was off to one side close to one of the windows. “As long as you don’t mind holding the make up. I don’t have a table to set them down on. Should’ve thought of that, sorry.”

You can tell he’s mentally scolding himself for forgetting something.

“No no, it’s fine,” you say, taking your seat, “I don’t mind, really.”

Placing the balls of your feet on the bar that holds the chair legs together, you make your lap even enough to set the palettes out, and use a hand to hold all the brushes.

Jungkook laughs, noticing your feet as you sit, “Cute socks.”

They’re light blue with a fox face on them, and little ears stick up from the elastic around the ankle.

“Thanks,” you laugh too, they’re your favourite pair. “I call them my fox socks. They’re lucky.”

“Let’s hope so. Wish me luck fox socks,” he calls to your toes, and you wiggle them in response.

He picks a brush and chooses a colour. “Close your eyes and let me know if I’m pressing too hard. If it isn’t obvious, I’ve never done this before.”

You close your eyes and whisper, “Will do.”

It's a uniquely intimate experience having your makeup done. Willingly letting someone get up close and personal with you, allowing them to see every potential scar, blemish and pore in the name of beauty and for the sake of creativity.

In this case, it’s also a little questionable considering where you feel the brush putting down colour: cheeks, lids, temple, nose. However, you’re simply a pawn in a well thought out plan, so you sit and wait for him to finish.

“Annnd done,” he says, making a final swipe with the brush on your cheek. “You look great! I didn’t hurt you, right?” he asks, showing you the makeup in a palettes mirror. Your face looks like it’s been attacked by a rainbow in the best way. You smile, taking the mirror from him and looking at all the little details.

For a first timer, Jungkook did a really good job.

“Nope, I’m good. How do you want me?”

Jungkook leads you to the backdrop, placing you in front.

“One second,” he says, grabbing a remote and clicking a button to lower the black out curtains on the windows, and then another that turns off the apartment lights. He also clicks on all the lights he’s set up and you’re quickly illuminated by a bright red and purple as well as the back light.

“I’m good to pose?” he asks.

“Yep.”

You love that he always asks first. It makes you feel safe and considered, consenting to every touch prior to its occurrence.

Jungkook instructs the first pose to have your hands on the sides of your face, making slight adjustments so that you don’t cover any of the makeup. And for the first time, his touches leave little sparks where they land.

You’re sure it’s just because of the lights or that the shirt is thick and makes you warm.

Or maybe you’re just nervous and need to get the first photo jitters out of your system.

Soon enough, the camera’s pointing at you and you smile the brightest you can. He’s given you the prompt of ‘you’re so excited and happy you can’t hold it in,’ and you work with it the best you can, taking the first few with the pose he gave before being given full reign.

It’s a decent way into the first shoot when Jungkook says, “Hmm…we’re not quite there yet, I need a bit more,” and follows up with, “How about ‘you’ve just been commissioned by the Modern Art Museum to have the leading showcase for next year’.”

You smile the biggest you think you ever have at the thought. Because that’s the dream, that is the biggest goal you could achieve. An entire gallery of your work as the primary exhibition in the Western Shores Modern Art Museum? You couldn’t go any higher. It’s every artist's dream.

“There you go! That’s it!” The camera’s capturing quickly as you imagine what it would be like to have your own showcase at the WS-MAM. Incredible is the first word that comes to mind, your work in the biggest museum on the continent? You can’t even imagine, but you want to.

One day, you promise yourself. You’ll do it one day.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, breaking your daydream, “Let me switch out the gels for new colours and go again. These are great so far though, you're doing amazing.”

You hold your hand out for a high five and he smacks it. “Go team!” you say, and he laughs.

An hour and a half, a makeup fix and three lighting changes later, the first shoot finishes. You collapse on the couch and rub the muscles on your thighs.

Jungkook plops down beside you, nose deep in the pictures he’s just taken, double checking everythings good.

“This is a fantastic start, I hope we can keep it up all day and finish before tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you say, and you mean it. Shoots with him are always fun, but inevitably tiring. “I’m gonna to grab a water, want one?”

“Yes please,” he replies without looking up.

In the kitchen, you open the fridge to grab the two bottles and notice a box, stamped with a coffee mug that has a greenhouse inside of it, on top. The greenhouse cafe’s logo.

“Can I ask what’s inside the cafe box?” you ask as you sit back on the couch and pass him a bottle.

“Ah, caught red handed,” he says, setting his camera on the table and taking a swig. “I may have asked Vivan earlier this week to make sure there was an overstock of tarts so I could grab them for you as a thank you for today.”

...Oh

That’s so sweet. He’s never gotten you a thank you gift before, especially not in the form of the most delicious pastry to ever exist. Maybe you should get him something for all the times he’s helped you with homework? A solstice gift maybe?

There’s heat forming in your chest and you really hope it’s not the beginning stages of heartburn. Maybe Jungkook has antacids.

“You didn’t have to do that, I’m happy to help.”

“So you don’t want them then?” his shit eating grin making a glorious comeback because he knows what your answer’s going to be.

“No! I want them. I most definitely want them.”

He chuckles and puts his water down.

“Okay Donatello, glad you accept. Let's move on to the next set up. There’s makeup remover and cotton pads in the room, and some moisturizer too if you need it.”

The next shoot is called ‘Regality,’ and it has you in the strapless shirt. You find out it’s quite a low cut when you put it on. There’s enough to cover you, but there’s definitely a lot of your chest showing. However, under the shirt on the hanger is a scarf to cover yourself with, which you think is very considerate.

“Makeup?” you ask as you come out again, scarf covering you.

“Neutral, but strong. Kind of like how my mother does,” the background is still white, but you have a hunch that it will remain white in this picture, unlike the last one. “This one is going to be black and white, so try to emphasize your natural beauty.”

You ignore that he essentially just said you're beautiful, surely he’s just being kind and professional. Making sure his model feels good about herself.

Right?

Right.

You put on a coat of mascara and go light on the shadow so it won't be too dramatic on film. You also use a shade of lipstick that adds just a tint to your lips and a blush that makes your eyes pop.

Jungkook has you sit on the stool from earlier and faces your body three quarters of the way towards the camera, but keeps your head turned in profile.

“Oh! Almost forgot, one second,” Jungkook jogs to his room, coming back with a palm sized velvet box. “I had my mother send these over for this shoot. She has better taste than me, so I let her pick them out.”

Your stomach plummets to the floor when he opens the box.

Inside are two dangling diamond earrings, and quite possibly the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

And now you’re terrified.

“Jungkook, I can't wear those. They look like they’re worth more than my house, my car and my tuition combined.”

He takes one out and places it in your hand for you to put in, it’s the length of your index finger. And all you can think about is the potential houses you’re holding as you look at it.

It’s a semi-rectangular earring, encrusted with four columns of diamonds that cascade down, each column longer than the previous. Like a sparkling waterfall you can attach to your ear.

“Don’t worry about it, mum said she never wears them anyway because they’re part of a set that the necklace was lost to years ago. Please,” his face is nothing but reassurance and small smiles, “You’re giving them a chance to live again.”

You couldn't say no to those eyes even if you wanted to.

So you reply, almost breathless and still against your better judgment, “Okay.”

Placing them in one after the other, they have a significant, understandable weight to them. You take a couple deep breaths so you don't freak out, and then you return to your previously designated pose, profile set, body facing the camera.

“Can I adjust?” Jungkook asks, after taking a step back and getting a wider view.

You nod gently, still terrified of the earrings.

He makes sure the earring is visible and untangled first, before a finger gently comes beneath your chin, and lifts it a bit higher.

The feeling they leave behind is all you can think about as you stare at your place on the wall, Jungkook snapping away. Not even the soft light illuminating your profile is enough to make you blink.

This shoot goes by quickly, and you’re relieved to get the earrings back safely inside their box.

“It’s like 2:45, wanna break for a late lunch?” Jungkook asks.

“Please, I’m starved,” you say, returning from the guest room after tossing on the sweater you brought. “What's on the menu?”

“Well, we have two options,” he says, looking very faux serious, “1. We order out from wherever you want and awkwardly wait for it to arrive because the next shoot is not one we can’t prep for, then eat, then shoot. Or 2. I make use of the ingredients I bought to make Bulgogi Kimchi Fried Rice and you get lunch and a show.”

You're shocked.

Jungkook…cooks? Oh this you absolutely must see.

“Hmm….” you say, pretending to really mull it over in the same ‘serious’ tone, “I’m thinking I’ll have to go with option two, Chef. But I’ll lend a hand where I can, no use in standing around doing nothing.”

“Every chef needs a sous.”

With both of you on task, lunch is getting made quickly. Jungkook has all the ingredients to make ‘my buddy’s famous family recipe,’ a man who you assume is a chef back at the palace. The island countertop is currently covered in them; onion, kimchi, marinated bulgogi, gochujang, cooked rice, eggs and more.

You’re surprised at how skilled Jungkook is in the kitchen. He’s cutting the ingredients like he’s been doing it his whole life and working the pan over the stove like the proper technique has been drilled into him since birth.

Thirty minutes pass, and after both of you shed a tear at the cut onions and evenly split the remaining tasks, you’re sitting on the couch about to take your first bite. It smells delicious. Your mouth is watering and you can’t wait to dig in, stomach painfully empty by this point.

Finally taking that first bite, you nearly die of euphoria.

“Ouhmahgaud,” you say, mouth half full. Jungkooks on the other side of the couch, trying not to cough out his own food from laughing at your reaction. His eyes are nearly shut with how wide he’s smiling.

“Good?” he asks after swallowing his food first, like a civilized person.

You’re vigorously nodding as you swallow your own helping in hopes you’re understood.

“You’re giving me this recipe. I need it. I don’t think I will survive if this is the only time I ever get to eat it.” Your bowl is almost half gone already. Thank god there’s leftovers, you will be having more.

Plus, you want to make it for your mom when you go home, she’ll love it.

“I’ll text it to you later, don’t worry.”

You’re very sure the look on your face conveys the gratitude you feel and the rest of the meal passes in a very comfortable and satisfied silence.

Twenty-ish minutes later, after letting your seconds settle for a couple minutes, Jungkook gets back to business.

“Next look is the most adventurous, it uses the facepaint. Are you okay with contacts?”

“I think so, never tried them before though. Just give me a few before we start so I don’t explode when I stand up.”

“All good,” he says, before quirking a lip and adding, “I really don’t feel like explaining why there’s kimchi and bits of you all over my walls to either of our parents, so take all the time you need.”

You laugh, firstly at the visual, then at the idea of Jungkook meeting your mother. That would be something you needed on record, paper and film.

After a minute, you get up, the guest room making your acquaintance once more.

“This one is called Enigmatic,” Jungkook calls.

“Got it!”

You take longer than normal to change, maybe eating before putting on the skin tight shirt wasn’t a great idea. But at least it was stretchy.

It has long sleeves, a high neck, and is a very dark midnight black. There’s a matching black scarf for this one too, and a safety pin attached to the corner.

“Okay, what's the plan for this one? I hear facepaint is involved,” you say, back for round three, scarf in hand.

The background of the set is black now, a close match to your shirt. Jungkook is by the smoke machine, currently set up on the stool and plugged into a nearby outlet.

You hold up the scarf, questioningly.

“That’s to go over your head after the paint, but let’s see if you can do contacts first, they’re in the washroom. Need help?”

“No, I'm good.”

You don’t succeed at first, but after a couple attempts you look in the mirror and see purple eyes staring back at you. You love them.

“I look like a badass,” you say, returning. The smoke machine’s been turned on and it’s created a completely different atmosphere. At your reemergence, Jungkook shuts it off and comes close to give you a look. You freeze a little at the eye contact, his browns meeting your currently violets for a prolonged moment.

“They look better than I’d hoped, this is going to be great.”

He reaches under the gels on the table for a piece of paper. It’s a makeup model face with the look he wants drawn on. “Are you able to do something like this?”

The diagram shows the cheeks, bottom half of the nose and down all the way to the neck as black, and the eyes and up as white, bleeding down into the black like smoke. You’re going to need eyeshadow for that part. If you did that with the face paint it would just become a gray mess.

“Yep, but it’s going to take some time to get it right.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use it to get the smoke machine properly set up.”

You use one of the palette mirrors and start with the white, covering the top of your face and making a good base layer for the eyeshadow. Then fill the bottom of your face and neck with the black. Carefully, so as to not make gray, you use a large brush to cover both sides with their respective eyeshadow shades, before blending them together like the reference. Your skin starts to feel like it’s on fire by the time you're satisfied and you check your phone for the time when you finally finish.

4:37pm.

Not bad. You put the scarf over your head and cover your ears with it, using the safety pin to hold it in place.

“Done.”

Jungkook takes one look at you and lights up.

“Have I ever mentioned how talented you are, and that you make my schoolwork so much more fun? Because I feel like I should again even if I already have.” Your cheeks heat, glad he’s excited you’re able to help. “How did you manage to make it look even better?”

“I do vaguely remember mentioning something about a deal with a semi-suspicious genie,” you joke. And both of you break out in giggle fits after a second, recalling the conversation from forever ago.

Running through the same steps of lighting, posing, and adjustments, Jungkook then flips on the smoke machine and lets it fill the room heavily before starting to take pictures.

You’re sitting on a small box this time, so that you’re slightly lower than the camera. Jungkook tells you to keep your hands at your sides and look up, just above the rim of the camera lens. It creates a very interesting look, and you're excited to see the results.

He has you do a couple more poses before allowing you to do your own thing once more, trying to think of what would look mysterious and enigmatic.

You try to let the music inspire you. This is a look you’ve never done before, so you’re finding it a bit difficult to get into it despite Jungkook's helpful prompts and suggestions. But you flow a bit better with it as time goes on and you become more comfortable.

An idea pops up out of nowhere and you have him do a close up from the middle of your chin to the middle of your forehead. You stare straight into the lens to really showcase the purple contacts and makeup.

“This’s the one for sure,” he says, taking a few more. “Great idea, why didn’t I think of a close up in the first place?” You know he's talking to himself at this point.

It’s close to 6:15pm when Jungkook decides he has enough pictures for this look. You don’t mind the longer shoot seeing as you set aside the day for this, and you can’t wait to see how these ones turn out in particular.

You’re halfway through getting the face paint off, a mountain of gray stained cotton pads beside you, when Jungkook turns the music down.

“Let’s do a light, early dinner and then shoot the last one?” he asks. “I kept this one at the end because it’s going to create the most mess and it’ll be nice to have dinner out of the way for when I have to clean up.”

“More mess than this?” you point to the cotton pad mountain.

“Much more.”

“Light, early dinner it is,” you confirm, not wanting to have to wait till late to eat. “But can we order out so I have time to get the rest of this off?”

“Sure, what’ll it be?”

Clean faced, moisturized and ramyeon filled, you and Jungkook are preparing for the last shoot. Or well, lightly arguing.

“Water?”

“Mhm.”

“On me?”

“Yep.”

“From that thing,” you point to the contraption he calls a c-stand that will be holding the very full, very large watering can over your head for an extended amount of time, “And into there?” you point again to the kitty pool on top of the tarp that’s underneath the watering can c-stand.

“That is the plan,” he looks amused at your slight distress.

“Are you nuts? What if it falls on me? How do I know it won’t unhinge and I’ll have a nicely cracked open skull to explain to my mother on Solstice break?”

“It won’t fall and you know it won't because you trust me and trust I wouldn’t put you in unnecessary danger. But if it does, tell your mom I say hi and sorry.”

You scoff at him, unbelievable. “So you admit there’s a bit of danger!”

Jungkook sighs, and looks to the ceiling. “Yes, YN. There is a touch of danger. But that’s only if, somehow, the c-stand I have triple safety checked, duct taped twice, and quadruple secured with four fifteen pound sandbags, decides that you deserve a watering can to the head.”

You side eye his tone. This wasn’t an unrealistic worry. But you do trust him. And trust he would never intentionally put you in any danger.

The trees are set up near the backdrop that looks like a row of brick houses. The shot is supposed to be ‘The Calm after Before the Storm,’ where you look relieved and happy in an ‘outside’ setting while ‘rain’ falls over you, also in black and white.

“Fine, but if I hear one peep from that thing,” c-stand staring down the tip of your finger once more, “I’m tuck and rolling and taking you out while I do it.”

“Very fair!” he says relieved, and goes to set up the stand with the watering can.

You’d changed into the neutral V neck after dinner, and he’s asked for no makeup. So all you have to do now is stand and pose while trying not to die from foreign objects falling from the sky while you get wet.

Easy, right?

Wrong.

It is incredibly difficult, and you’re glad he made this one last because you’re at best; slightly miserable. Only the promise of a hot shower, hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows and your pick of whatever you watch afterward is keeping you going.

You started this one just shy of 8pm after waiting 45 minutes for the food. And it’s nearing 9:30 now. Jungkook has had to refill the watering can four times, dump the kiddie pool twice, and you swear if you don’t finish within the next twenty minutes, you’re going to collapse from shivering.

To be fair, he does fill the watering can with warm water, but it only stays warm for so long before freezing water is pouring on you for the millionth time tonight.

“I have one last idea, and by the way, I’m never doing this concept again so don’t worry about that, but also… don’t shut down the idea immediately okay?” Jungkook says.

The watering can is almost empty again and you’re relieved that your time is almost up. That in itself should make for a good picture. He snaps it.

But his tone makes you a little wary, “Okay… what is it?”

“Pretend I’m Nel and you’re seeing me for the first time in six months, like you do at the end of April.”

Well, you didn’t have that down on your photo shoot prompt bingo card.

Are you okay with the idea? You aren’t sure, but aren’t not sure either.

“I mean, I’ll try. Maybe you could give vocal cues to try and help? But don’t make it weird.”

“I won’t, promise,” Jungkook pauses for a second before adding, “Does he call you baby?”

You nod, and you distantly hear and ‘okay’ as you slowly allow yourself to get into that headspace.

You start, and the camera starts going.

You’re in the airport, waiting for Nel, ‘smoosh’ paper in hand. The gate opens, and through all the other passengers you see him, see that he’s in one piece, see that he’s safe.

Your face illuminates with relief at that so much so that you don’t even notice the water that starts running down your face.

You hear a ‘hi baby’ and in your head, it’s coming from Nel’s mouth as he nears you. You smile impossibly wider at the thought of seeing him, feeling him. Having him here with you.

You look happy to see me, ‘Nel’ says.

“I am,” you reply.

There’s repetitive clicking in the distance, but you ignore it. It’s probably just a flight attendant's heels on the floor.

“I missed you.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Nel speaks again.

I missed you too, baby.

You’re shivering hard now, lost in thought, unaware of reality.

YN, Nel calls.

“Yes, love?”

“YN.”

“Babe, what is it?”

“YN, hey,” you're being shaken gently.

“Hmm? What?” you slowly arrive back to the present. Strong hands grip your shoulders. They feel nice. Solid. Deliciously warm.

A very concerned looking Jungkook comes into focus, camera dangling around his neck and reaching for you.

Oh.

He’s the one holding your shoulders, trying to get you to come back to reality.

“There she is, welcome back,” he lets go and grabs a blanket from somewhere and wraps it around you. “We got the shot, go take a shower and warm up okay?”

“Okay,” you say, still a little dazed, but present enough to function.

You step out of the pool, holding on to the hand Jungkook offers to balance—Warm. Solid. Strong—and head straight for the bathroom, making a pit stop in the guest room to grab your bag with fresh clothes.

The hot water cements your place back in reality, letting it warm you up and cleanse you of the day.

You have no idea what just happened with that whole Nel thing, but it was a new feeling and a new headspace and you really aren’t in the mood to analyze or acknowledge, so it’s shoved onto a top shelf in the back of your mind for a later date.

Once you're able to return to the directory of your mind, you don’t know how long you’ve been in the shower. But you know you’re clean, no longer cold, and in the mood for hot chocolate, so you step out and dry yourself with the towels Jungkook laid out for you on the toilet seat.

They’re soft. So soft in fact you consider only for a second shoving one in your now less full bag to take home with you. However, you do rather enjoy your friendship with the prince, so you think better of it upon second thought.

Dressing in your sweats, you exit, tossing the towels in the hamper and your bag of the clothes you arrived in back into the spare room.

“Better?” Jungkook asks as you sit down in your spot on the couch for the last time tonight, wrapping up in the blanket he left for you. He’s in the kitchen but heard you coming.

“Much, thanks,” you sniff, “Is that hot chocolate I smell?”

Jungkook returns from the kitchen, two mugs in hand. “With extra whip cream and marshmallows, as ordered.”

You carefully take it from him, giving your thanks and happily slurping away the second it’s in your grasp.

“Alright Caravaggio, what are we watching?” he asks, sitting down on his side, sipping away on his own.

Sometime between you leaving for the shower and coming back out Jungkook changed into his own comfy attire, and tidied up the studio space as the pool and tarp are nowhere to be seen.

“I’ve thought really hard about this, all of however long I was in the shower,” Jungkook mutters something about 35 minutes; you ignore him, “And have settled on ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

He whines just a little when he says, “But it’s November.”

“So?”

“So, Solstice isn’t until the third week of December,” he’s saying this like his point is the most obvious thing in the world.

It’s not.

“Your point?”

“That it’s November, and you want to watch a Solstice movie.”

You’re mockingly outraged.

“Who made you town grinch? I didn’t realize we had a holiday hater in our midst.”

You loved the holidays, all the big ones, and the small ones, but Solstice was special.

“I’m not a grinch, I’m just not there yet, mentally.”

“Then get ready to dive in head first, because you said I could pick the movie for risking my life for you and I pick ‘A Miser Brothers Solstice’.”

Jungkook doesn’t argue further, but he does roll his eyes as he puts on your movie with a small smile hidden behind his drink.

It’s sometime during the first act, you’re lying back against your corner of the couch, feet up and under the blanket when you ask, “What are your solstice break plans?”

Jungkook takes a moment to part from the TV, very invested for someone who was so against it half an hour ago. “I have a lot of ‘princely duties’ to do for Solstice, like standing and looking thoughtful while my dad gives his annual Solstice speech,” you snort. “Then there’s the palace dinner, the parade through the capital, and the live televised event,” he says in a tv announcer's voice, “Where my family and I light the Solstice Star. And then there’s the new year and that in itself has another long list of things I have to do. Besides things like that though? Not much, and then it’s back here.”

Right.

You often forget who he is.

That behind those kind eyes, and small smiles, behind the greenhouse study dates, and movie nights, and photoshoots, Jungkook has an enormous responsibility constantly looming over his head, counting down the days until he finishes his schooling. One that’s just waiting to drop onto his shoulders forever.

You often forget that Jungkook is the Prince, first in line to the biggest throne in the realm. That you spend your time with not only Jeon Jungkook, friend and photography student, but also, His Royal Highness, Prince Jeon Jungkook, Heir Apparent and Future King of The Western Shores.

He just makes it so damn easy to forget.

You only asked because you thought maybe he had plans with friends or family, completely forgetting about all of the things the royal family does during the holiday season to celebrate with the nation, their people, and now you feel like an ass for even bringing it up.

But there’s something in his answer, or lack thereof, that snags your attention.

“What about celebrating with your family and friends in private?”

“No time,” Jungkook’s stare goes distant as he brings his knees up and puts his arms around them, resting his chin. “Friends are always busy with palace preparations and dad’s not really the sentimental type. We celebrated when I was younger; big family breakfast, presents, tree decorating, whole thing. But after I turned about 13 or so, it started dwindling pretty quickly. Now it’s just me and my mom exchanging a gift with each other at midnight under the palace tree.”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard something so heartbreaking yet beautiful in your life.

“Your mum sounds wonderful, I’m really happy you two get that time together.”

He looks at you, and you can tell by the look in his eyes he loves that time with her more than anything else.

Solstice is supposed to be the time you spend with your family, blood or chosen. The time where you all gather to cook and bake, and exchange thoughtful gifts with the ones you love. The time where you truly cherish one another and count yourself lucky for all that you have.

Solstice is your favourite time of the year.

To not spend it like that just seems…wrong. Horribly, painfully, awfully wrong.

“What about you?” he asks.

You don’t want to make him feel bad, so you tone down your answer, taking away the meat and giving the bones.

“My mum and I cut down our own tree and decorate it with the ornaments we’ve collected over the years,” you have them from every place you’ve ever visited, and your mum kept all the ones you ever made as a kid. You even get a new one every solstice to take a picture for and label with the year.

“Then we bake solstice cookies until our hands cramp and survive off only them until solstice dinner; a turkey, honey glazed carrots, mashed potatoes with gravy, essentially if it waters your mouth, it’s there,” he chuckles at that. “We do gifts for each other too, opening them on solstice morning before making hot drinks and reading in the breakfast nook until the sun sets or till we get hungry, whichever comes first.”

Jungkook's eyes glow, radiating warmth, a lazy smile on his face as he listens to you.

“That sounds really nice, YN.”

“It is,” you reply, looking him in those radiant eyes as you do. He looks… happy. Happy for you, that you get to have something like this that’s so special. It breaks your heart a little…maybe you can help.

“You wanna make some solstice cookies with me before break?”

His look of happy shifts to one of slight panic.

“What?” you question, and comically ask, “Have you never made solstice cookies before?”

He hesitates before answering a very quiet, “Uh…N-no.”

Your shock must be incredibly evident in the way he almost flinches at your reaction.

So you try your best to keep your voice level when you ask, “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. I’ve never made solstice cookies.”

That’s it. You can’t hold back any more, you’ve never heard anything so blasphemous in all your life.

“You’ve never what? How is that even possible?”

He shrinks into himself a little more.

“The palace pastry chef always makes them because that’s kind of his job,” you stare at him in disbelief. “Is this really that big a deal?”

You swear there’s cog’s and smoke flying out of your ears. Solstice cookies are a religion in your household. You know dozens of recipes by heart, always finding a new one each year to try and up your game. You cannot imagine a solstice without making them. Wait no, actually you can, but it would be because you’re dead.

You held back in your answer earlier, for his sake, but you and your mom’s hands cramp up because you make enough cookies to give a box to everyone in the neighborhood. It’s one of your favourite traditions, and your neighbours even look forward to it every year, going so far as sending you both recipes to try out.

“Big dea—you’ve never fucking mad—not even when you were little? No one brought you to the kitchen and let you help? Aren't all your friends back home the pastry chefs' kids or something?” You don’t mean to sound harsh, but your tone is a little more passionate than you were intending.

But Jungkook knows you, knows you occasionally get that passionate about things, and takes your outburst in stride.

“Yeah, one of them is, but we don't sit around the oven and make cookies all break long. And his dad is always too busy to teach us even if we wanted to.”

You decide something. Right then and there.

“This year you are.”

“What?”

“Mark your last Saturday off because I'm going to show up here, ingredients-a-plenty and teach you how to make solstice cookies. I have a million recipes up here,” you tap your head with a finger, “But I'll choose the easiest ones. And I’ll come over early so we can spend the day making all of them. I can’t in good conscience leave for the break knowing you’ve never made them.”

He sighs. “Do I have any say in the matter?”

“Absolutely not.”

Jungkook stares at you and you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re worried he’s going to say no anyway. To say you’re crazy and that they’re just cookies and that he has more important things he has to do on his Saturday before leaving for home.

But he doesn’t. And you should’ve known he wouldn’t, not after all the time you’ve spent together.

You know better. Know him better.

“Alright Picasso. Sounds like a plan. I’m looking forward to it,” he decides, and goes back to watching the movie.

It’s the first time he’s ever repeated a nickname.

“Wait! The wind guy wants to replace who?!” Jungkook shouts.

You laugh at his confusion, and rewind the movie.

Jungkook wakes up sore.

His back is killing him, which makes sense since he’s half lying on the couch, half on the ground.

The TV’s silently playing some slideshow of movie recommendations based on recent watches.

He checks his phone, reaching for it on the coffee tale.

14% battery.

4:07am.

Shit, he fell asleep.

After the solstice movie he wanted to watch its predecessor. You had no qualms and so on it went, but he doesn’t remember much after the brothers started fighting.

Hearing soft, even breathing next to him he turns to see you, hunched over in your spot asleep, no doubt in the process of ruining your own back.

He should go to bed.

You should go to bed.

But you’ve never stayed the night.

What should he do? Should he wake you?

But you look so peaceful. And it’s nearing exams. You barely sleep when it’s exams season.

Instead, Jungkook goes to check the guest room, but it’s a mess with yesterday's comings and goings. Make-up and clothes and hangers strewn everywhere.

Quietly, making a decision he hopes you won’t kill him for in the morning, he pads back to your sleeping form.

It’s for your back, he tells himself. No other reason.

Deja vu sets in as he scoops you up from the couch, blanket and all. Just like last time, you gain enough consciousness to know to wrap your arms around his neck, but not enough to wake up. Your head rests on his shoulder and he selfishly savours the feeling as he walks down the short hallway to his room.

Jungkook sets you down gently on one side of the bed, and your arms release, slumber undisturbed as he tucks you in.

He goes back to the living room to retrieve your phones. Yours is still at 56%, and he places it on the table beside you when he returns.

Climbing into his side of the bed, he’s careful not to touch you.

Though he wants to.

Desperately.

His sleep deprived brain is too slow to block out the thoughts that start to race. Thoughts of how he wants to turn around and pull you into his chest, slide an arm around your waist, and kiss you goodnight. How he wants to wake up in the same position, you still in his arms.

But he’s also awake enough to know that will never happen. That you’re with Nel, and happy with him. That he’s drawn that nice, big line.

He’s awake enough to know you being in his bed is a fluke, unintentional.

A one time thing.

Plugging his phone into its charger, he sets it down on his own bedside table and pulls the covers up, falling back asleep.

His back facing you.

An exhale wakes you.

Warm and cozy, you take a deep breath and roll to your left side, stretching on the way over. The scents of clean linen and something familiar find you. It’s comforting, that smell, but you can’t place it.

Another exhale, but this time you feel it as well as hear it.

You open your eyes to see a sleeping Jungkook face not a foot from your own and you jolt in shock, falling off the bed in the process.

You look up from your new seat on the floor, ignoring the pain in your side from landing, and peer over the covers to check on Jungkook, who, miraculously, hasn’t woken up from your tumble.

Relieved, your mind focuses on more pressing questions like ‘how did you get here?’ And ‘why were you in his bed?’

The last thing you remember was being halfway through the prequel to A Miser Brothers Solstice on the couch, watching Jungkook more than the movie because of how invested he’d become in the story.

But you aren’t on the couch now. You were in his bed.

The bed of the Prince of the Western Shores.

The Prince who has a girlfriend, and you, who has a very long term, very serious boyfriend.

You hear a vibration, and following the sound, you find your phone on the bedside table.

You quickly grab it quickly and go to the living room as quietly as you can manage.

There’s a large number of unread texts.

SlurryYuri [11:08pm]: hey, just checking in. You didn’t get home when you said you’d try for SlurryYuri [11:31pm]: Helloooooooo? YN? You there? SlurryYuri [12:14am]: it’s getting late YN, when are you coming home? Are you on your way?

Missed Calls: (3)

SlurryYuri [2:43am]: it’s been hours, so you better be dead or have crashed in the school somewhere. Either way I’m kicking your ass when you get home

Missed Calls: (2)

(Recent)

SlurryYuri [9:36am]: you’re still not home?? YN seriously, where are you SlurryYuri [10:23am]: If you don’t message me back in an hour I’m calling the police and filing a missing persons

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. You crashed hard, the shoot must have taken more out of you than you thought, so you never texted Yuri you were going to crash in a sleep pod at school like you’d planned too.

You make quick work of messaging her back, glad she unintentionally gave you just the excuse you needed.

YN [10:25am]: ohmygod I’m soooooo sorry, it was the school one. I fell asleep in the school. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ll be home soon, promise. I’m just going to grab breakfast first. Again im sorry

SlurryYuri [10:27am]: thank the gods youre okay!! Don’t ever do that to me again YN! I don’t wanna be the one who has to break news to your mom!! She’s too nice. SlurryYuri [10:27am]: and take your time getting back if your rushing for me, I’m not at the dorm SlurryYuri [10:27am]: Tai showed up yesterday out of the blue and took me dancing. We’re out getting brunch right now, and he has plans for the rest of the day SlurryYuri [10:28am]: Im just glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere

YN [10:29am]: me too, and okay I will. Thanks for checking up on me and making sure im safe, youre my favourite

SlurryYuri [10:30am]: damn right I am, see you tn <3

YN [10:30am]: see you <3

You exhale deeply, that was fucking close.

Your stomach rumbles and it reminds you that you actually need to get breakfast.

What could you have? You could order in again, but that means a wait time and you are hungry now. You could raid Jungkook's pantry, or see if he has any fruit, but then you think that’s a gross invasion of privacy when it’s not movie night and you haven’t asked if it’s okay.

Wait.

The egg tarts!

You dash to the fridge, the marvellous sight of a greenhouse inside a coffee mug comes into view. Stuffing one down before you even get the box from the fridge, you exit the kitchen, sit down on the couch, setting the box on the coffee table. Once opened in front of you, you realize there is a healthy amount of tarts inside.

How many did Jungkook ask for?

Speaking of, a bed-headed, yawning Jungkook makes his morning debut, still in last night's clothes.

“Hey,” he says groggily, walking over and stealing a tart.

“Hey!” you say back, not nearly as friendly.

“Overnight tax, Picasso. Room isn’t free.” He chuckles at your faux outrage, popping half the tart in his mouth as he walks to the kitchen and grabs something from the fridge. Returning, you see it’s a morning protein shake.

Gross.

“So is that name the one you’re sticking to now?” you ask, picking up another tart. At this rate they won’t last until lunch.

“Yeah, that okay with you? It’s your name in my phone after all.”

“It is?” You didn’t know that.

“Yeah, has been since the start.”

You’re quickly learning that sleepy morning Jungkook is very different from morning post work-out Jungkook, friend Jungkook and photographer Jungkook. His voice is deeper, he’s a lot more relaxed, and maybe even harmlessly borderline flirty, like he’s not all there yet. Softer.

“Picasso’s just fine. A compliment really.”

“Oh? And what am I in your’s then? Hopefully something just as nice?”

You tell him like it is.

“PJK.”

“PJK?” he asks, incredulous.

“Yeah? It’s obscure enough to not be recognizable if someone were to see it, but enough for me to know who it is.”

“Nah, you need something better, PJK is boring.”

“It’s your initials.”

“And boring,” he’s really not letting up on this.

“Well...what would you save yourself as?”

He mulls it over for a minute before deflating. “Okay, fair point, but I seriously want a new one. Something that can rival Picasso.”

“Do you have any nicknames? Something not completely obvious?”

For a morning person, Jungkook sure is taking his time. Maybe he was only a morning person before 8am, and then if he got up anytime after that he became a normal person who despised mornings like everyone else.

“Uhh…Vivian calls me JK, but that’s essentially the same thing as PJK. My buddies back home sometimes call me Kook, but I don’t think that works either. My mum has one for me that I will not disclose to anyone so long as I am breathing. So I guess not.”

A lightbulb dings over your head. “What about your security? Don’t they have special code names for you when they detail you? Like bear or eagle?”

“Yeah, but it’s not nearly as badass as either of those.”

“Fess up,” you say. Now you have to know.

“Hare.”

“Hare?” Now it’s your turn to be incredulous. “Like a rabbit?”

“Yep.”

An idea pops into your head and an evil grin spreads across your face, one you know is already setting worry into Jungkook’s still awakening brain as you change his name.

“I don’t like that look,” he confirms. “What’d you change it to?”

You flip your phone around and hold it up to him.

“Bunny?” he says incredulously once again.

“Yes.”

“I give you Picasso, one of the greatest painters of all time, and you think giving me bunny is anywhere near on par with that?”

Teasing him is far too fun, especially when he makes it this easy for you.

“Oh absolutely. In fact, I think it’s the best name I could possibly set it as.”

Jungkook disagrees, vehemently. “No, change it back. PJK is fine.”

“Too late. You dug your grave, now lie in it.”

Jungkook brings a hand to his face, pinching the crease between his brows and takes a very long, deep breath, exhaling just as dramatically.

You take that as your victory. But you’re sorely mistaken.

He launches at you, reaching for your phone and you scream, reaching your arm to keep it away from him. You have a fox socked foot on his chest to try and keep him back. His right arm is holding him up near your hip on the couches edge and he’s reaching with his left as far as he can without breaking his sternum on your heel.

“Give it!”

“Never!”

You try to bring up your other foot to push him away, but Jungkook is strong, and forces both it and the one on his chest down with the arm that was supporting him, temporarily keeping himself up with his left hand on the back of the couch.

With your legs out of the way he can almost reach his phone. But in his distracted state, misses the couch when he goes to put his supporting arm down again, and flips onto the ground, taking you with him. You scream, but his arms wrap around you as he makes sure to take the brunt of the impact, landing on his back, you safely secured to his chest.

There’s a moment of pure stunned silence, you resting your forhead on his chest while you process, him not letting go of your waist as he gets a breath into his winded self, before you’re both laughing as you take in what happened.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you?”

He takes a second to respond. “I’m great.”

You push to sit up, and he releases you from his hold, but that was a mistake. Because now you’re sitting on his lap.

It takes an entire three seconds of you staring at him and him staring right back before you jump and scramble off him as fast as you can.

“Sorry.” you say in unison, you standing and him from the ground. It’s a painfully awkward 8 seconds before you break, cackling at the whole situation, and he joins in with you again.

Jungkook brushes off his pants as he gets up too. “Got any plans before tonight,” he asks, business as usual.

“Nope, cleared my schedule in case this went long, I’ve got the whole day.”

You swear his smile grows two sizes.

“Well in that case,” he looks to the TV, then back to you, “Wanna start movie night early?”

An entire day to relax and chill out before the hell that is exams season takes your every free second?

Yes please.

“Solstice movie marathon?” you propose slyly, near devious.

“I’ll get the popcorn,” he confirms, already halfway to the kitchen.

You spend the day like that, on the couch watching movie after movie, both pretending the little incident never even happened.

But you make sure to go home after movie night this time.

Chapter Nine: Sugar Cookies and Devious Confessions

A/N 2: This chapter kicked my ass but it's here and I couldn't be more thrilled. I really like how it's ended so I hope you guys do too.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

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defectivevillain · 17 days ago

Text

relentless

pairing: Blaise Zabini/Reader

the reader is transmasculine and has undergone top surgery. the reader uses he/him pronouns; otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

You seem to be the only one immune to Blaise’s charms, and it frustrates him more than he’d like to admit.

word count: 2.1k | ao3 version

warnings: mentions of underage drinking.

also, quick disclaimer: I do not support or condone the actions and beliefs of HP’s author in any way whatsoever. I thoroughly believe in fanfiction’s transformative, restorative, and healing power. Therefore, I write HP fanfiction not to encourage JKR’s beliefs, but instead to directly challenge and disprove her prejudice; I write to further strengthen, validate, and support minority identities that are harmed by She Who Must Not be Named’s dangerous ideologies. I won't be taking comments, questions, or criticisms on this. Don't like it? Don't read. (fuck jkr fr)

Blaise Zabini is a relentless flirt.

…It’s his personality. He flirts with everyone. You’re not special to him. At least, that’s what you tell yourself. Everyone around you seems to think otherwise. You want to grab them by the shoulders and shake them in frustration, citing each and every time Blaise has been interested in virtually anyone with a pulse. It’s no secret that Blaise is rather charming, and he certainly has no qualms about using it to his advantage.

But he acts differently with you, your classmates assert.

He always has a glimmer in his eyes when he sees you, your friend says. He likes riling you up.

You think Blaise just doesn’t know what to do with someone who isn’t outwardly affected by his advances. Sure, you’ll often panic internally, but you can never bring yourself to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. The Slytherin has tried many times to get you flustered, but you manage to keep your composure through it all. A kiss on the hand, the “accidental” brush of a shoulder, an intent gaze… And you can’t seem to forget the look on his face as he sweeped into a particularly low bow when the two of you were dueling in Defense…

You suppose you have to give Blaise credit: he just doesn’t know when to quit. You thought your nonexistent reactions would dissuade him, but they only seem to motivate him further. Blaise starts to go bigger—he’ll place a hand on your knee and stare at you as if you’re the only one in the room, imploring you to continue speaking, if only so he can hear your voice again-

He’s insufferable, you’ve decided. You hate him. Or, at least, that’s what you try to tell yourself. But you’ve never really hated him—only the persona he wields with ease. And hell, maybe it’s just envy—maybe you’re just jealous of the way he so effortlessly draws the attention of everyone in a room.

You try not to think about that slippery slope of logic, otherwise you’ll end up at a conclusion you’d rather not accept. Instead, you busy yourself with schoolwork and Quidditch. Since it’s your seventh and final year at Hogwarts, you’re nearly drowning in homework as you prepare for your NEWTs. Your only true reprieve from the hustle and bustle of seventh year courses is the Quidditch elective Madam Hooch introduced a few years ago. In the past, Quidditch was only a first-year course; now, students who are members of their teams have the option to take an extra “class” as an elective. It’s not really a class; rather, it’s a way for players to work on their skills and collaborate with those they’d usually only see on the opposite side of the field. There are mixed scrimmages that take place during every class—and with the course taking place twice a week, it’s a nice break. (And virtually the only one you get, with your weekends dominated by studying and your evenings taken up by Quidditch practice.)

One of these scrimmages lands you on the same side as Blaise. And as much as you hate to admit it, he’s a damn good player. By the end of the period, your team wins by an overwhelming majority. Sweaty and breathless, you head back to the changing room with the rest of the guys.

“Nice flying,” Blaise hums as the two of you walk over to your respective belongings.

“Thanks,” you say, staring down at the pile of folded clothing in front of you as if it’s particularly interesting. You can feel Blaise’s eyes on you and it makes you nervous. “...You too.”

It’s silent for a moment, as you two begin to change. The air is tense and you can only hope that he isn’t staring at you with that damn smile on his face. You almost want to wait until he leaves, but you also don’t want him to think he’s getting to you. Besides, you’ve finally grown a bit more confident when it comes to your chest—and you won’t let anyone take that away from you. You barely get your shirt off before Blaise’s speaking again.

“Are you planning on playing professionally?” He asks.

You shrug. “I’m not sure yet.” It’s the truth—you need to get your career plans figured out first. And in order to do that, you need to get through these damn NEWTs. From how Blaise is speaking, you’d venture to guess that he wants to play Quidditch professionally.

“What a shame,” Blaise says, something of a smirk rising on his face. You feel dread settle in your chest as you wait for an insult. “I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing you like this more often.” He’s staring at your shirtless chest unabashedly; the heat in his gaze alone is sending a shiver down your spine. Lost for words, you pretend not to hear him and instead continue changing. Blaise only laughs. He places a hand on your shoulder as he leaves the changing room, and you promptly pretend not to think about it for the rest of the night.

It only gets worse from there. It’s as if your silent rejections mean nothing to him. Before, Blaise’s actions were subtle. Now, they’re… a lot more straightforward. Not to mention, he seems to have no issue with flirting with you in public, in front of virtually anyone. Hell, one time, Blaise doesn’t even notice Professor Snape looming over his shoulder. You almost feel bad when the Potions Master casts a spell that promptly enforces the distance between you both, sending Blaise sliding to the other side of the bench you’re sitting on.

After that incident—and a few more occasions that will go unmentioned—everyone thinks you’re dating.

And, honestly, you’re starting to wonder, yourself. After all, there are only so many compliments Blaise can give you before you start to suspect that they’re earnest and truthful. But neither of you has acknowledged the tension that always seems to follow your conversations, nor the unseen force that keeps you both at a close distance.

Things come to a head at a party late one night in Ravenclaw Tower. You’re planning to see a few of your friends, who you scarcely get to speak with during the week. All of the seventh years are swamped in coursework, so you’ll often take advantage of any free time you can get.

Someone’s propped open the puzzle door with a book, you note with relieved amusement as you slip through and enter the Ravenclaw dorms. The space is bustling with people—mostly older students. You scan the crowd for your friends, only to lock eyes with a familiar face.

“Well, I certainly didn’t expect to see you here,” Blaise says in lieu of a greeting. He takes a few steps towards you, before looking you up and down. “You look quite ravishing, I must say.”

“...Thanks.” You manage to say. ‘Ravishing’ is certainly a new one—you can’t say you’ve ever heard that before.

Blaise scrutinizes you for a moment, before a smile rises on his lips. “You’re stone-cold, aren’t you?” He remarks, seemingly unaffected by your hesitant gratitude. “I don’t know if I should be offended or impressed.”

“Why not both?” You say before you can stop yourself. Don’t play his games, you admonish yourself. But it’s too late. And, if you’re being honest, it’s been far too late for a while now. This song and dance has been going on between the two of you for at least a year.

Blaise tilts his drink up, as if toasting you. “Fair enough.” He says, evidently hiding a smile as he takes a sip. “Care for a drink?”

You shake your head; Blaise doesn’t seem particularly surprised. “Suit yourself.” He shrugs. “These parties aren’t exactly fun sober, I must warn you.”

“Why are you here, then?” You ask, raising a brow. He clearly isn’t the slightest bit tipsy—and his drink is still mostly full.

“Malfoy is pining after someone yet again,” Blaise sighs dramatically, looking up to the sky as if hoping something will fall onto him and end his suffering. “I regret each and every moment that led me to interacting with him.”

You feel yourself smile in amusement before you can hide it.

Blaise notices, because of course he does. “Ah, so you can smile,” he notes. “I was starting to think you weren’t able to.”

At that, you roll your eyes. Blaise stares at you for several moments and you eventually grow tired of pretending you don’t notice. When you meet his gaze once more, you’re surprised to find his eyes glimmering.

“I fear it must be said,” he remarks, almost frowning as he thinks. “What do I need to do?”

“Hm?” You say eloquently, overwhelmed by both his attentive gaze and the sheer amount of people in the cramped space.

“What do I need to do, to convince you of my feelings?” Blaise asks.

“Your… feelings.” You repeat, your brows furrowing.

“Yes, my feelings for you,” Blaise says, sounding amused. He studies you for a moment. The noise around you all seems to fade into obscurity. “I assumed you knew.”

Oh. This whole time, he was being serious? It seems your classmates were right—hell, everyone was right. Are you really the last person to know about this? “Um… no, not exactly.” You admit hesitantly.

“Really?” Blaise questions. “I was being rather obvious about it. Or, at least, I thought so.”

“I thought you were like that with everyone,” you say with a frown. The justification sounds weak in hindsight.

“Do you really think I’d act like this with just anyone?” He asks, raising his brows. You think back to all the ‘casual’ touches, the way he’d clasp your hand fervently and look at you adoringly.

“I… guess not.” You relent. You feel kind of foolish for not noticing sooner.

“Yes.” He nods. “So… do I have even a slim chance at winning your affections?”

“I’d say you have a good chance.” You say before you can stop yourself. “Probably better than you realize.”

“Oh?” Blaise hums, raising a brow. Your tongue suddenly feels glued to the roof of your mouth; he’s waiting for an answer, but you’re not sure you can give him one. Blaise seems to sense your sudden apprehension, because he continues to speak. “No, do tell. This is fascinating.”

You’re assaulted with a fond sense of irritation. “You’re enjoying this,” you say with a sigh, struggling to maintain your composure again. You avert your eyes. It feels like the room is getting warmer, but that could easily be your imagination.

Blaise’s grin is so wide that you think it could cut into his cheeks. “Yes, I am.” He says shamelessly. You want to melt into an embarrassed puddle on the ground. How can he just say these things so casually? “But don’t hold back on my account. I’d like to hear your response.”

…Of course he’s going to make you say it.

You think back to the past few months, to his numerous advances and attempts at wooing you. You recall your lives before then—when you were mere acquaintances. You remember your eyes had often wandered to him when your attention drifted from lectures; and you recall he often stole glances at you, too. You try to think of just how to illustrate your feelings for Blaise—how you can possibly summarize this nervous, almost giddy feeling you get around him? It doesn't feel like words will be enough.

With an inexplicable rush of bravery, you take a step closer—waiting a few moments to see his reaction. When he doesn’t immediately shove you away, you take another step forward. You’re standing quite close now. After a moment’s contemplation, you let your hand settle on his shoulder.

“If this is some kind of joke…” Blaise says warily, clearly a bit skeptical of your uncharacteristic boldness.

“It’s not a joke,” you reassure him. “I have feelings for you too.”

You’re not sure who breaks the distance between you; all you know is that you’re in each other’s arms within the blink of an eye. Everything seems to fall away as he kisses you: the loud conversations scattered across the space, the nervousness you’ve been fighting off since you arrived. It all just… fades.

“Zabini,” Malfoy drawls exaggeratedly. Blaise and you break apart in annoyance and confusion, respectively. It seems Malfoy is about to ask for something.

“I’m preoccupied at the moment, Malfoy.” Zabini sighs, his hands still on your waist. “Surely you can survive without me.”

Malfoy groans but eventually leaves, clearly discouraged.

“Now, where were we?” Blaise asks. You roll your eyes fondly, secretly impressed with how smooth and charming he can be. You never plan to actually utter those words; though you think Blaise may know anyway.

ever since i got top surgery i’ve been writing in unnecessary shirtless scenes and, you know what? it’s my right at this point. rahhhh! 🦅🏳️‍⚧️

also ummm wtf. why are there so many white men in the Blaise Zabini hashtag. took me way too long to find a good gif of him 😐

anyway, thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat @always-lying-to-you

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

#defectivevillain #fuck jkr #author does not support or condone jkr's harmful and dangerous ideologies #hp x male reader #hp x transmasc reader #transmasc reader #male reader #Blaise zabini x male reader #blaise zabini x transmasc reader #Blaise x male reader #blaise x transmasc reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months ago

Note

AITA for playing music in my shared apartment?

🎵🎧 so I can find it

I live in a shared apartment with two other girls (L and S). It is a student apartment because we are all university students, but it's not provided by the school. Just an apartment complex that markets to students.

I've been with my boyfriend for almost a year, and he comes over on weekends sometimes and we hang out or go to dinner, do homework, and yes, have sex. I have tried to be the ideal roommate. I never use my speakers to play music, only headphones. I have shushed my boyfriend when he laughs super loud during TV shows. Meanwhile, both of my roommates have a habit of playing loud music, burning candles and incense, having half a dozen people over and doing karaoke super loud and late at night with the only warning "having some friends over later."

Last weekend, my roommate L allowed her friend over to work on their small business stuff in the common area (L was not at the apartment, she let the friend in and then went to work). The friend had the TV playing in the living room, and my boyfriend and I keep pretty quiet when we're having sex. I guess we were louder than we thought, because I got a text later from L basically reading me the riot act for making her friend uncomfortable and being inconsiderate. The friend seems nice, I didn't intend to make him uncomfortable. L also said that there have been several times that she or S have heard my boyfriend and I, and that it's "fucking nasty" and I need to be more considerate of the fact that we share a living space. I thought this was pretty hypocritical given that I am almost always super quiet because the walls are thin, and neither of them bothers to keep the noise down.

But I'm not trying to start a fight, so I told her I didn't realize we could be heard and I would make an effort to prevent it in the future.

So. Last night was Valentine's. (Wrote this when the ask box was closed lol) My boyfriend and I went out to dinner, spent some time playing a board game in my room, and then I turned on some music on my speakers, turned it up loud enough that it would have masked normal conversation volume, and we had sex. The music was loud enough that, unless we spoke directly into one another's ears or raised our voices, my boyfriend and I couldn't hear each other.

I got a furious text this morning because I only played music when it was obvious that we were banging, so that made it gross to L, like I was broadcasting what I was doing to the rest of the apartment. I told her that she should do what I did and buy some headphones, and otherwise she could decide whether she preferred to hear my music or to hear me getting laid.

She said I'm disgusting and to grow up.

On the one hand, it WAS obvious that I was playing the music to mask the sounds. I don't like music during sex, but I was trying to be considerate (even if I was pissed). I don't think that I should have to stop having sex in my own home that I pay for, especially when I am already making efforts to keep it pretty quiet. L seems to think that I shouldn't do it at all while someone is home, but S is almost ALWAYS home, and tbh, I don't think it's unreasonable to want to have some intimacy with my boyfriend in my own home, especially on Valentine's Day. But I'll admit, part of me felt pretty spiteful & vindicated when I started the music, so AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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notmorbid · 3 months ago

Text

the return [2/2].

dialogue prompts from twin peaks: the return (2017).

i told them if anything happened to me, it was you who did it.

how can you ever love me after what i did?

do you find me attractive?

what do we care about what the government thinks about who we marry? are we going to invite them to the wedding?

i can't stop thinking about last night.

it's true. it's all over the news.

i could throw a car farther than i'd trust that rat fuck.

now i know how brando felt.

you fuck us once, shame on us. you fuck us twice, shame on you.

these days, the glow is dying. what will be in the darkness that remains?

watch and listen to the dream of time and space. it all comes out now, flowing like a river. that which is and is not.

i know there's been trouble in there. we've all heard it.

you're staying with me tonight, okay?

i didn't know it was a gun.

you found something, didn't you?

there's fire where you are going.

can i smoke in here?

but smoking's bad for you.

do you know how good a cigarette would taste with this coffee?

smoke 'em if you got 'em.

i'm in your corner, champ. knock 'em dead.

i wanted to see you again. i've thought of you every day.

i have my life back again.

were you here when they first came?

your room seems different.

i'm trying to tell you that you have to watch out. things can happen. something happened to me.

is somebody in the house?

it's a goddamn bad story, isn't it?

if you need any help --- if you need anything --- i want you to call, okay? i mean it. help of any kind.

sometimes i really worry about you.

we don't have time for torture. i'm hungry.

what's on your mind tonight? you know i'm gonna tell you what's on mine.

the ninth level of hell will welcome you.

what kind of shit are you?

if you went missing, would you want people finishing their fucking homework before they looked for you?

you are nothing but a spineless, no-balls loser.

what fucking crystal ball are you looking into?

when you didn't come home last night, i thought the worst.

looks like we got ourselves a new contestant here.

what do i get if i win?

hope there's no murders this weekend.

you know you're not supposed to come here.

i need to know a good poison i could use. undetectable.

it makes me sick just to look at you.

i haven't slept in weeks. i've vomited blood. i can't live like this. i only want to die or change.

sit your butt down. it's no good eating alone.

love doesn't always turn a profit.

i love your show so much. you have done so much for me.

do you like it? do you really like it?

i feel like i'm somewhere else. have you ever had that feeling?

it's like i'm somewhere else and somebody else.

i always feel like myself. it may not always be the best feeling.

i'm not sure who i am, but i'm not me.

who am i supposed to trust but myself? and i don't even know who i am.

i want to stay, and i want to go. i want to do both.

we are like the dreamer who dreams and then lives inside the dream. but who is the dreamer?

who do you think that is there?

what happened to us back there?

it's my birthday. you gotta tell me the story.

it wasn't meant to be polite.

do you really want to fuck with this?

call 911. we got a dead one at the bar.

nice sweater. where'd you lift that?

i've been a selfish bitch to you all these years, and you've been a saint.

true love is giving the other what makes them happy.

i'll have a cup of coffee. and a cyanide tablet.

i thought you told me you didn't have any family.

oh. it's you.

i don't have your number.

you got a death wish?

it's like all our dreams are coming true.

the old team together again. nothing can stop us.

you know about death. that it's just a change, not an end.

there's some fear in letting go.

remember what i told you. i can't say more over the phone.

you're such a whiner. it's like being with a sick dog.

i just never really saw you before, the way i'm seeing you now. it's like i'm meeting a different person. who are you?

you hear that bird this morning?

i came as soon as i heard.

i will not soon forget your kindness and decency.

move over. i'll drive.

you've made my heart so full.

you'll see me soon. i'll walk through that door and i'll be home for good.

you've gone soft in your old age.

if i disappear like the others, do everything you can to find me.

i know you understand, but i'm still sorry.

the past dictates the future.

[name]. the one and only.

do you remember everything?

i hope i see all of you again. every one of you.

see you at the curtain call.

is it you? is it really you?

once we cross, it could all be different.

please don't try to find me.

i don't recognize you anymore.

usually, somebody like you comes around, i tell 'em to fuck off.

i gotta get out of dodge. it's a long story.

i tried to keep a clean house. keep everything organized.

in those days, i was too young to know any better.

sorry to bother you so late at night.

what year is this?

#rp meme #ask memes #rp memes #inbox memes #sentence starters #tv meme #horror meme #sci fi meme

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venus-giirl · 2 years ago

Text

A morning with Mikey 💓

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers.

Rating: just a fun morning with your boyfriend Mikey.

Word Count: 494

N/A: It's kind of short, but it was fun to write about it.

The morning after an intense week of high school was, without a doubt, your favorite day. You don't have to get up early and you can sleep all morning (unless you are one of those people who usually wake up early to get on with your daily routine), or stay up a little longer enjoying the warmth of the soft, warm blankets.

The best thing about those two days of rest is the nice, warm sleep that you start to wake up little by little. And the best thing is knowing that you don't have to go to school.

You slowly open your eyelids after lazily looking at the time on the medium-sized clock on the bedside table next to your bed. 7:56. A perfect time. Earlier than you expect. You settle back in but notice the emptiness of the rest of the large canopy bed. So you decide to open your eyes, adjusting, little by little, to the small ray of morning light. A warm morning but for the fact that he was not beside you.

"Mikey, honey, what are you doing so early?" You say, in a voice hoarse from sleep, when you see him at your desk writing something, next to your little pink light bulb. He even looked funny.

"I'm trying to do your math homework". He says without turning around.

"But if it's due Monday, we can do it together Sunday morning. As always."

"I know, but I want us to be free this weekend to go out and have fun or go on a date on Sunday."

"Oh...honey...". You sigh in a soft tone. He always had those details with you. He was so sporadic that you didn't know his next plan or what was going through his mind.

You get up and go in search of him. Bending down slightly to place a light kiss on his neck.

"You look so handsome when you pull your hair back." He smiles and turns to look at you with his cute black horn-rimmed glasses.

"I like it better when you push it away with your hands" He winks his eye.

You ignore his comment and move on to look at your notebook. It's true I was doing math homework. Not that it was bad. But, of the two of us, he was much better than you.

"Have you done yours too?"

"Yep. As of a while ago."

"And have you done your language homework, too?" you stammered, waiting for his answer. Which you know.

"You know I'm not good at it. I have a hard time differentiating between nominal and verbal predicates." You laugh remembering that afternoon when you tried to explain the difference. You considered it mission impossible after two hours.

"Next week we have the exam..."

"Shut up, baby. Don't remind me."

You laugh again as you pull your hair back into a bun to go take a shower. Not before you realize what she's wearing. You hadn't noticed until now.

"Mikey."

"Yes, honey?"

"Are you wearing my Hello Kitty t-shirt...?"

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jebewonmorelike · 2 years ago

Text

I Hate You, (I Want You), Seok Matthew

wc: 1.6k warnings: angst with a happy/fluff ending; swearing; mentions of hook-up culture; drinking (reader is 21, 3rd year of college); frat/party setting pronouns: none used; reader has a femme best friend summary: fratboy!matthew au oops ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ matthew is that sweet, introspective fratboy that respects his partners that we all wish existed, but literally never will. so enjoy pretending that boys are nice through this little fic. love u. <3

Matthew Seok made your blood boil.

And none of your friends could understand why.

You'd spent many a night in your dorm, tipsily listing all of his infuriating tendencies and desperately trying to rally support for your Anti-Matt campaign.

But no matter how many times you explained it to them, they just shrugged you off. And if you were being honest with yourself, you couldn't really blame them. There was a time not so long ago when you only saw his good traits, too.

But that was before.

And now all you wanted to do was take the girls that waited for him in the hallway by the shoulders and shake them until their rose-colored glasses fell off.

Your distaste for Matthew Seok was so strong that you'd started avoiding places you liked to go, since every time you left your dorm you somehow had the misfortune of bumping into him. And you just couldn't stomach it: turning the corner, meeting his eyes, walking away before he could say anything...

The feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach.

You hated it.

You hated him.

"Get dressed, we're going out," your friend Megan announces as she walks through the door, startling you out of your boredom-induced daze.

"What? Why?" You ask quickly, not liking the determined look on her face.

"Because you've done nothing but go to class and sit here at your desk pretending to do homework for a month straight. You're an undeclared Liberal Arts major... How much homework could you possibly have?"

You pouted. "What are you trying to say?"

She smiles, walking over to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "It's time for some fun."

You groan.

"Oh, come on! You used to love fun. Every day you were off on some little adventure and every night you were dancing in the living room of one godforsaken frat house or another," Megan says, giving you a pitiful look. "I can't let you sit here any longer, lovey. I just can't."

A long sigh escapes you as you look up at your friend. You remember when you first met her at freshman orientation, standing there shy and meek with a mint green sweater on. When everyone broke off into groups to eat lunch, you'd both been left in the courtyard alone to fend for yourselves. You'd eaten lunch with her every day since then for the last two and a half years. And you’d both changed a considerable amount in that time.

"Fine," you finally grumble, watching her pleading look turn to a satisfied grin.

"Good. Let's make you hot again," she says, running to the closet and flinging the door open.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN AGAIN!?"

Staring up at the familiar old house, you feel your heart speed up. You didn't realize how quickly you'd fallen out of practice. Every weekend you used to make a stop here, claiming the reason for your frequent visiting was that you liked the star projector they’d set up in the living room.

And you did like it.

It made him look even prettier.

You shake your head rapidly in an attempt to silence the thought. It’s useless now that you know what kind of a person Matthew Seok really is.

"Hey. Don't be nervous," Megan says, taking your hand in hers and squeezing it. "He's not here, babe. He went home this weekend. I still don’t really know what you’re deal with him is, but I checked for you anyway.”

Already you feel your shoulders relax. Of course he's not here. Megan wouldn't bring you here if he was.

You look hot for nothing.

Your hands fly to your head in exasperation at the sound of the intrusive thought.

"You've got this, (y/n). You're still the reigning star here, you know. All anybody ever asks me is when you're coming out again," Megan says with a convincing grin.

You bite your lip and smile. "I guess I can give the people what they want."

"That's the spirit babe!" She exclaims, dragging you up the front steps and to the door. A tall guy opens it and walks out at the same time you and Megan approach.

"OH SHIT! Tiny Dancer is back!" Johnny shouts, his hand flying out to take yours. "Fucking missed you, dude."

You smile, shaking his hand. "I've just been really busy the past few weeks."

"Well, it's a special night then. Drink up!" Johnny says, pulling a beer from his pocket and handing it to you.

"Thanks," you say, popping the top and taking a sip as you and Megan walk through the door and into the frat house. The lights are all off, the house only illuminated by LED light strips, a disco ball, and your favorite star projector.

"YOOOOO! Tiny Fucking Dancer!" You hear someone shout from across the room and feel the blush creep onto your cheeks. You're too sober for this attention after being away from it for over a month. Megan pulls you into the living room as a bunch of intoxicated partygoers rush over to greet you.

"Where've you been!?" Brian asks, patting you on the back. “There’s been a distinct lack of uninhibited dancing in our house this month.”

"I've just had a lot going on recently," you reply as nonchalantly as possible, trying your best to keep up with all the hugs and the questions. You were starting to feel overwhelmed, looking around the room for a place to sit so you could breathe for a second.

That's when you spot him.

Wide eyes meeting yours, lips slightly parted in the way they always were when you used to catch him staring.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you're frozen in place. He doesn't look away. But someone has to.

"Can someone please pour me a ton of shots!?" You shout the request, the crowd around you bubbling with excitement as you migrate with them into the kitchen.

As Brian lines up five shots for you (one for every weekend you've missed), Megan grabs your hand and squeezes it.

"I swear Johnny said he'd be gone. I'm so sorry," she apologizes and you know she means it from the look on her face.

You do your best to shrug it off. "Just do some shots with me."

She squeezes your hand again. "Are you sure?"

You nod, picking up the first glass and knocking it back. Vodka. The liquid stings your throat and you wish you had something other than Johnny's gross warm beer as a chaser. "By the time you start, I'll already be done!"

With that, Megan takes the empty shot glass from your hand and pours it full as she joins you for the next one.

You're dancing now.

On a usual night, you were the only one dancing in the middle of the living room floor as people made out, played stupid games, or watched you and giggled.

But when you were drunk, you just didn't care. All you wanted to do was move. A tipsy mind meant a fluid body and you could never turn down the opportunity to completely lose yourself in the shitty music with the base cranked up and the tacky LED light strips on the walls.

But tonight, everyone was dancing. Maybe it was a special night, after all.

Only now does the crowd die out, people gathering in the kitchen for beer pong or going upstairs to hook up (ahem, Megan and Brian). But you couldn't stop even if you wanted to.

"The dance floor missed you."

You freeze. You were so happy you'd almost forgotten he was here.

Almost.

"Can I talk to you?"

You turn around slowly to face him. He's wearing a jean jacket over a white university hoodie and his hair flops boyishly in his eyes. It's like a knife to the heart.

You hate him.

You hate him for making you feel this way.

"I'm busy," you say, biting your lip as you look away.

"I know. I didn't ask you to stop," Matthew replies, the smallest smile tugging at his lips.

You swallow hard at the sight. "I don't want to talk to you."

"Yeah, I've kind of pieced that together," he says, a hand reaching to the back of his neck. "And I understand why."

"Do you?" You ask now, finally meeting his gaze as another wave of liquid courage hits you. "Well that's good news, Matt! I'm so glad that you've come to understand how going out with someone else after you told me you liked me might be upsetting to me. Now, maybe, you can leave me alone forever."

"I didn't.”

You blink back at him in silence. Eventually, you laugh. "Sure you didn't."

"I didn't," he says, sincere eyes locked on yours. "I know Johnny said that I was going out with someone else. But I only told the guys that to get them off my back. They kept hounding me about why I wasn't hooking up with anyone anymore."

Your heart beats so hard that you swear it melded with the base.

"I just really didn't want to tell them how I felt about you. You saw how fast that stupid lie I told spread across campus. They would've ruined everything before it even started."

You nod slowly. "So you ruined it instead."

He sighs despondently and then nods. "I did. I never meant for this to happen. And I'm really sorry."

You just look at him for a few moments. The perfect curve of his annoying lips, the refined angle of his infuriating jawline, the entirely cliche sparkle of his stupid eyes...

And the little star-shaped lights making constellations across his face.

The truth was you hated Matthew Seok.

"Dance with me," you say, stepping back and reveling in the grin on his face as he follows. Wrapping his arms around your waist and moving with you to the rhythm of the music, your lips find their way to his in the glow of the lameass LED lights.

You hated Matthew Seok because he made you want him.

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moonllightt91 · 2 months ago

Text

ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤

Text translated by Google translator, it's my first story, please be patient and forgive spelling mistak

Remus Lupin x reader

(Use of y/n, no warnings)

Content: y/n and Remus meet in the Hogwarts kitchen on a sleepless night and share their views of the world and a cup of hot chocolate

𝕋ℍ𝔼 buttery sunlight brought an ethereal glow to her face, everything about her seemed so; they said that things like true love were nothing more than fairy tales, made more to deceive than comfort the heartbroken foolish, Remus Lupin tended to agree with such statements, at least until he met her...

It was another first of September, being a second year, this day had become a little less mystical after all, having gone through the experience of being sorted into a house and a year of seemingly endless homework and tests, the first time at Hogwarts no longer seemed so magical; not that he found the castle and everyday life in general to be in any way boring, the boy knew that even if he lived a thousand years he would not know every one of the enchanting and mysterious surprises and adventures that the ancient school had to offer, he just thought that the sorting ceremony was no longer that interesting after having already been through it.

That was when she entered the doors of the great hall along with the other first-year students, looking so adorably dazzled by everything around her, the girl eagerly drank in every detail of the place, with so much enchantment in her eyes that Lupin couldn't help but want to see the world through her eyes, in some inexplicable way, despite his young age he knew that now his life would be divided between before and after that day, every other major event in his life, no matter how important it was, would never surpass the day he saw s/n for the first time...

Back to the present, Remus Lupin was sitting in the library, in theory he should be doing his potions homework, but anyway Sirius and James wouldn't stop talking about tactics for the next match against Slytherin, so there wasn't much he could do other than observe y/n, who was sitting with Lily at one of the tables near the window, the two had become friends, and even with the age difference they seemed attached at the hip.

—My dear Moony, although we know how interesting it is to observe our dear y/n, it would really be good if you helped me and Prongs here to think—said Sirius trying to get his friend's attention.

—It's not like I'm part of the team, my dear friend Pads, my support is limited to cheering for you two from the stands.

—Actually, even at that you're kind of bad, Moony, no offense, but Peter doesn't look like he's come face to face with a Basilic in every match—interjected James wanting to make fun of his friend-I bet you get irritated thinking that you could be spending that time chasing y/n in the library, you spend so much time in this place that I honestly think you'll end up getting married right here, for Merlin's sake!

—James is right about that, and I'll say more, you should stop being a coward and ask the girl out to dinner before someone gets in front of you. I heard that Amos Diggory has a crush on her, and even invited her to the next weekend in Hogsmeade.

—You can't be serious,” Moony snorted.

—And I'm not, but that's what's going to happen if you don't get the courage to ask a girl out soon. Besides, if someone finds out that you don't have the courage to ask a girl out, you might as well be expelled from Gryffindor, the courage thing and all that...,” Sirius teased.

—That's true, and it wouldn't be nice not to have your lessons to copy, a change of house would mess up the scheme of things,” James added in a tone of feigned concern.

—I definitely hate you two, now let's go because we still have to put our books away before dinner, since the two dolls always take a long time to fix their hair and we're always late and end up with the worst seats.

Despite knowing that what Sirius had said was nothing more than provocation, Remus found himself lost in thought throughout dinner. If any of his friends had noticed anything, they had miraculously not commented on it. Knowing him very well, they knew when Lupin really shouldn't be disturbed.

Having been consumed by the internal battle between his insecurity and the growing feelings he had for y/n for the rest of the night, Remus decided to go in search of a cup of hot chocolate after everyone went to sleep. He knew that the silence of the night and the comforting warmth of the drink would help him get his head together, or at least make his incessant thoughts a little more manageable. Armed with the Marauder's Map and the cloak he had stolen from Prongs, he made his way to the castle's kitchen, taking advantage of the moment of calm that only the night could bring to the chaotic building.

The walk was uneventful, the boy was finishing closing the door he had passed through when he noticed her, she was wearing a pink, fluffy robe that matched the purple slippers she had on her feet covered by blue socks, Remus had never seen anything so adorable in his entire life and he couldn't help but stare at her for five long, awkward seconds; if she was surprised or even annoyed by the interruption, the girl didn't show it, she simply gave an amused smile and said:

—Can't sleep either, Lupin?Before she could add anything else, the Gryffindor couldn't help but interrupt her:

—Do you know my name?!-she asked in a tone divided between a little scream and an embarrassed whisper.

— I don't think there's anyone in this castle who doesn't know the infamous Marauders, you're quite famous - the girl commented in a friendly teasing tone - besides, I'm friends with Lily, because of Potter you're a fairly common topic, but you can rest assured that you're definitely her favorite Marauder, and mine too if you want to know, although I think Black is cute.

— We both know it's only a matter of time before those two get together - the boy replied and then walked over to the table where y/n was sitting - Can I?

— Of course, we insomniacs need to help each other - he said, patting her gently, indicating the seat next to her I'll make you some hot chocolate.

While Remus settled into the bench, y/n stood up, and while preparing the drink she asked calmly, with the teasing tone already gone from her voice:

— So, what made you come to the Hogwarts kitchen at a time like this?

—Internal conflicts, they suck if you ask me - says the boy, using his mischievous side to disguise how vulnerable he felt when sharing a lost moment at two in the morning in a dimly lit kitchen with the girl he was foolishly in love with.

—Cinnamon?- the girl asks, finishing the drinks after a positive nod from the boy.

—Thank you very much for the drink - says Lupin as y/n slides the hot chocolate towards him - I'm sure it's delicious.

—I really hope so, it's the only thing I know how to do in the kitchen - she answers with a weak laugh and a shrug, and sits next to Remus.

Both teenagers drank in comfortable silence, the only sound being the rustling of the embers in the fireplace. Despite the lack of words, the feeling of contentment and peace took over the young people. It was a welcome break from the extremely chaotic routine that reigned at Hogwarts.If Remus Lupin were asked, he would deny it to his death, but the reality is that he was blatantly staring at y/n while she looked at the fire with that enchantment that never left her gaze. The light danced in the girl's eyes, throwing the boy into a state that bordered on hypnosis.

—Is there something on my face?— the girl asked, running her hand over it, trying to remove a nonexistent dirt.

The question seemed to shake Lupin out of his stupor. With a shy smile, but moved by sudden courage, he answered:

—Actually, there's nothing wrong with that. I just... I keep thinking about the way you look at the world around you. Ever since I first saw you, I couldn't help but notice how everything seems dazzling in your eyes. There's something about them that I can't understand, much less explain.

—Well, a wise man once said that we should find everything we can beautiful. Most people never see enough beauty. I know there's a war lurking behind the walls of this castle, a darkness that unfortunately won't go away on its own. And don't even talk to me about the injustice that plagues this world that God has forgotten. It drives me crazy... but if we can't find a little light in the midst of all this vastness of despair, what will become of us? I believe that since everything is lost, since greed has taken over everything, there's no point in looking for even the slightest comfort, looking for something that brings hope? We are a lost generation Remus, cursed I would say, but I truly believe in a future where children are free and where prejudice and hatred do not dominate us, but until then what we can do is seek in hope the strength necessary to build that future, if not for ourselves, for those who come after.

—It's a very beautiful way of seeing things, believe me, but I think that unfortunately the world found a way to break me enough to no longer have hope, hope in the end is for people like you, not for a monster like me, at the end of the day I am everything they say I am.

—I don't see any reason for you to be a monster, Remus, even though I know you're human, and like everyone of our kind, you make mistakes, but when I look at you, all I see is someone loyal to the bone, with amazing kindness and intelligence, if you want to know my opinion, and if you don't, you'll listen anyway! — y/n answers seriously, looking at the boy next to her with such fervor in her eyes that it made the older man feel as if he were going to be consumed by her gaze, which during that moment never looked away from his.

Even though he was reluctant, Remus couldn't help but believe in her, even if just a little; in the end, he was sure of one thing, he would never let this woman go again, no matter how long it took, he would gather the courage to ask her out, but for now he would set

—Would you like to have hot chocolate with me tomorrow? It's on me.

—It would be an honor, Mr. Lupin.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x fem!reader

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downtoncoquetteroach · 1 year ago

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Notes: so, English is not my native language so please don't be harsh on me. This supposed to be a one shot, I wrote it at 4am on my phone to avoid anxiety and in the morning I came up with some more ideas so, idk how long this will be, no more than 5 chapters for sure, I'll try to publish the second one soon. Also this is my first published fanfiction ever. I hope you like it.

⭐If I could be who you wanted ⭐

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem reader

Neville Longbottom x Fem reader

Word account: 2,484

Summary: Fred Weasley has been your crush forever and getting him is a real possibility but, what if it's not what you need anymore?

TW: swearing, virginity loss, fingering, slightly minimal Dom kink, breeding kink.

No Neville in this chapter, only smut Fred

🤌🏻🔥

Chapters 2, 3, 4, 5

Chapter 1: Use your words 💫

His hair, beautifully brushing his nose, his long delicate fingers touching his wand, always playing with it, provoking occasionally sparks without his knowledge as a perfect example of how y/n was feeling her stomach, watching his every move. "Red is the colour of the heart, just like it is the hair of the man who stoled mine". Y/n wrote that when she was 13 and she was full of embarrassment recognizing that she was about to send him a card with that horrid text inside but stopped as soon as she saw him and his twin mocking Ginny and other cheesey girls on valentine's. Love was as funny and unreal for him as his older brother perfect pin badge. So y/n managed to keep her love for Fred Weasley a secret, no one knew she loved him so bad she wanted to throw up every time he touched her hair, even in a playful way, she should have felt like a dog but her whole underwear was full of weird stains that could prove that she was totally soked for the man most of the time, it was ridiculous. When she found out he wanted to be on The Triwizard Tournament she cried the whole night thinking about what could happen to him, what if he died, what if he got serious damage, God how she cried, always on the verge of dramatism, always concerned about his grades and what if he got expelled?, how could she managed to survive without looking at his amazing outline, his beautiful eyes, his lovely lips mocking her whit that mischievous smile. Damn to re-read y/n first years at Hogwarts diaries is agony. She was delusional for the man... and then, the fantasy became real, but not at all in the way she expected.

So, yeah, they weren't super close but they were friends, since first year, she practically sat beside him and George at every meal and teamed up with them from time to time on class, they joked, they play, they sang out loud at party's, coping each others homework. But it wasn't like she was going with them to Hogsmeade on weekends, she was not taken in consideration for big pranks, she didn't even get the scoop in them, he certainly didn't talk to her about his girls or bring her anything from his kitchen rounds. But then, one night something changed.

The whole Gryffindor house was celebrating winning the quidditch match against Hufflepuff, Cherry Coloured Funk by Cocteau twins was playing in the old record player while every student left tried to understand what the singer was singing about, comparing her to Celestina Warbeck, drunk laughter's filling the common room, a nice soft red conjured light making everything dreamy and surreal, y/n wasn't drunk but certainly feeling funny, relaxed enough to dance alone in front of other people without being self conscious, and then, she felt a cold hand on her's, pulling with force, making her trip over the hand owners lap, Fred's lap. Y/n blushed so hard, she was immediately trying to stand, they were separated from the others, so that made him brave enough to do what he did. As Heaven or Las Vegas was filling the night, Fred's soft long slim fingers were caressing her skirt fabric, above her knees, his other hand grabbing her waist, eyes locked on y/n, his mouth slightly open, lips almost touching her's, holding his breath while his thumb finally reached her core and just for a second he touched her. Y/n jumped at the sensation and woke him up from his drunkness, he let her go and she went upstairs to wash her face, running through the whole staircase and finding her room empty, the other girls were probably around the castle kissing boys. As soon as she was alone she was full of regret, why did she run away? Why did he did that? Was that real or one of her daydreams coming to life courtesy of firewhiskey? Y/n finished washing her face when she hear some shy knocking on the door, it was Fred.

He looked embarrassed, something so unsettling to witness given the fact that he was always so confident and nonchalant. He stood there, red face matching his hair when he started speaking in a hurry, bumbling:

love I'm so sorry I, I want to apologize, I didn't mean, I, I don't know what happened to me, I wasn't sure what I...

She simply said: it's fine, it is really I don't, I mean It was nice.

She sounded so bloody stupid, but she did not want to make him feel as awful as he looked and besides she wasn't lying. Fred stood there in silence without a clue on what to do next, she was feeling the same way, but then he said

Are you... alone?

Yes

Wonderful

He got inside the room and closed the door with a locking charm and a silencing spell, then walked slowly to y/n looking relieved and more like himself

You know sweetheart, you shouldn't let anyone ever touch you like that, you seemed scared, maybe I was too harsh?

No! No, it was -

Nice yeah, you said that but, didn't look like you enjoyed yourself so much do you? I might be a little drunk but, I can recognize when a girl is not happy with my advances

Y/n was shocked, how could this be happening? The whole conversation was unreal, he was making her feel like a little furry creature, nervousness weakening her knees, her knickers almost dropping just by looking at him, Fred bloody Weasley in her damn room, eyes full of...desire? quidditch uniform still on, his classic mischievous smile coming up, him, getting closer and closer to her

He held her hand

Is it ok that I'm here?

Y -yeah, sure

Do YOU want me here?

Y/n managed to nod slowly but he immediately said

Use your words princess

I-

He was gently touching her cheek, instantly making her close her eyes as he got closer to her lips, whispering

Do you want me here?

And releasing a sight she was holding since the first time she saw him on the train to Hogwarts she said

I do.

He kissed her.

He's soft lips were caressing her's so slowly and delicately while his scent filled y/n's head, he got his hands on her's, fingers interwined, guiding y/n slowly to the bed, his wet tongue licking her lower lip, making y/n whimper in surprise. She had never ever kissed a boy in the french way before which was her biggest insecurity given the fact that she was almost sixteen. Fred stoped.

Love, please tell me if I am wrong but, is this your first kiss?

She guessed it was her scared look what gave her away

Ahm

She started to get away but he stopped her

Princess if I'm making you uncomfortable please tell me and I'll leave you alone forever, but kissing your beautiful lips before any man its my biggest achievement so far, so, tell me, I'm the first?

Y/n's pride was hurt a little when she quietly said

You are.

Y/n had never seen lust before, Fred's eyes were almost black and closed while he reached to kiss her more passionately than before, holding her face between his hands while she dared to put her hands through his long beautiful hair, immediately rewarded with a soft grunt fully delivered in her mouth. She could feel her core throbbing, head spinning, hormones screaming through her skin by the feeling of his tongue all over her's, he put her on the bed softly and then got on top of her, his long strong legs opening her's, y/n could feel his hardness through their clothes, pushing hard on her wet pussy, his hands were all over her legs and ass while her hands were fumbling under his sweater, reaching his bare stomach and hips. Fred was over the edge, the other girls he had before were much more experienced and older than him, he always ended up being their prey, this was the very first time he was in control and he liked it so much he was ready to cum just now. It wasn't just that. To be honest, he was absolutely turned on by y/n since he found out about her sweet crush on him in third year, he liked to pet her just to see her blush, but it wasn't until this night, with his confidence over the cloud's by wining the game that he had the courage to make his fantasy's real. Y/n eyes were full of adoration, he could feel his dick getting painfully hard as she lay beneath him, so horny and willing to give herself to him. She looked so beautiful he couldn't stop touching her skin while looking at her in the eyes just to see her reaction. She was so sensitive, that when he started to take her clothes she was full of goosebumps, almost drooling at the sight of him without his sweater and t shirt.

Y/n was totally sober by now because of the impression, was her first time happening? She was about to lose her virginity to Fred Weasley? How could she be so lucky? And then she started feeling worried, what if she didn't make him feel good? She didn't know how to give pleasure to a boy, and he looked so secure, in charge of everything... he must had read her thought because he suddenly said

Y/n do you want to stop? It's ok if you do, no hard feelings or anything, if you are not comfortable we can just hang and that's all

She was glad he didn't said he'll leave.

It's ok Fred, I want you

Jesus fucking Christ y/n had never said anything so direct and needy in her whole life, what was it about this man that turned her into a complete moron. She wished that it was more alcohol in her system to keep her relax and cool but the fire whiskey was long gone with all of her sweat and lubrication. That thought made her question, what if Fred was so drunk she was taking advantage of him

But ahm, aren't you drunk? Isn't this something you would regret tomorrow? What if I'm taking advantage of you? Your judgement is not right at the moment we should...

Fred laughed, he couldn't believe how sweet she was, he got closer to her ear and whispered

Love, I'm going to destroy your little pussy.

She was unable to contain a moan, Fred started kissing her neck, licking his way down on her, y/n's breath was shaking, she didn't knew what to do or what was gonna happen, Fred was pulling aside her little flowered pantys and without warning, he started licking her violently. It was incredible helpful that he put a silence charm on before because y/n's whimpers could have woken up the entire castle. She tasted so good he couldn't stoped liking her hole cunt and the fact that she was fully soaked for him before he even did anything was priceless. He wanted to put his fingers inside her but he managed to wait, he just had to see her face while he took her virginity.

Y/n was almost fainting, she didn't knew she could feel that much pleasure, that boy's could do that with their tongs, she was over the edge and without even thinking she said

Fred, fuck me, please, I need you

He almost came. Having her pleading for his dick while he eat her was just too much, he pulled apart from her and stood

What did you say princess?

Y/n was totally out of herself

Im, I- I want you, I want you inside me

Y/n's sudden shyness made his dick leak some pre cum and he unbuttoned his trousers. She was so freaking cute, he couldn't handle it, all of those years of watching her, so shy, so tender, and now he was about to make her his.

Y/n couldn't stop staring at Fred's amazing torso exposed, his muscly arms, long slim fingers, soft messy hair, smooth skin, and then his wonderful knob in all of his glory making her a little bit worried, he was all over the edge by the impression in her face

Love don't worry, you'll take me just fine

Fred got on top of her again, kissing every part of her body, sucking her breast, caressing her body with the tip of his fingers, causing goosebumps all over her...agitated breath anticipating the pain.

She felt it, his huge hard dick all over her fanny, so tasty it made them both grunt loudly, he's started swearing quietly while he rocked her, getting all wet and nice to make it fit, and then looked at her in the eyes

Last chance to run angel, are you sure you want me to...

Y/n kissed him and then she said

Fred I'm already yours just take me -

And he did. He knew for a fact that making things slowly just prolonged the pain so he did give her his whole cock in one exhibit while he scrutinized her face, her eyes, her lips. He wanted to memorize all of the perfect sounds his little princess was making for him, because of him. He kept fucking her, asking occasionally if she was alright.

Princess can I come inside you?

Y/n couldn't handle it anymore and came so badly she stopped hearing what he said after. She sensed her insides full of his delicious juices and felt happy that he understood and kept her eyes closed for a while, trying to conceive what had just happened.

Fred was freaked, he just told her that he wanted to filled her with his baby's. He had never ever said (neither thought) that before, wtf was going on with him. And the worst part was that he actually meant it? His dick was getting hard again just by thinking of it. Merlin, and she wasn't saying anything. What should he do?

Angel are you ok?

She was asleep.

#fem reader #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley #hp fandom #hp fanfic #smut #fred weasley smut

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pomefioredove · 9 months ago

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Tbh I was reading the matchup info and now I have an idea for a fic 😂😂😂

But Seriously I really love your writings. I've been having a shitty time and when I read your stuff it gets better and mellows me out ❤️

Personality wise: I can be pretty calm, but I also have my exciting/ manic moments. Like cleaning my room at 3am (cries in bd sleeping schedule). People say I'm nice, and have a good energy. But if someone pushes me (metaphorically) I will push back. I can be petty if I get fed up enough. I get depressed easily and sometimes have trouble expressing myself. Which is weird because I kind of am the therapist friend. I don't talk about my feelings or self often. Sometimes I scare my friends unintentionally, like dropping random tidbits of my life that might sound or be a little traumatic. (I.e. that reminds me of the time my mom told me she would beat my ass if I cleaned her room wring again.) I can be pretty lazy, I sleep A LOT. I am a feminist, who is pretty used to red flags in people.

Interests/ Hobbies: I love reading and trying new art stuff. I am an English major and like learning about the dirty and scary sides of History. My favorite books to read right now are classical literature and disturbing horror books. Art wise I've been trying to get into air dry sculptures. I love to crochet. And when I feel like it I can cook and bake. Sometimes I roller skate, like once in a blue moon. I have trouble with homework sometimes, I can get really distracted. When I'm really tired I won't eat. I have body issues too (thanks mom 🥲). I used to be a vegetarian for almost 10 years. I stopped a couple years ago.

Relationship wise: I like people who are competent. Like, someone who knows their way around the house or are willing to learn. I like feminists. I don't like people who yell at me. When I get into a relationship, love bombing and honeymoon phase stuff kinda turn me off ngl. (Like why r you so free on a regular Tuesday afternoon. I give you butterflies? Digest them, want some pesto bismol? Here.) Ngl, it's like why should I have to come back from a full day of work/school and clean up after you and/or make dinner.

Lifestyle wise: No lie I have depression and anxiety and it can get pretty bad. There are times where I can't take care of myself as well as I wish. I will cry, if someone makes fun of me for it. I try to keep my area clean, when I get back from work/school I clean up a little then crash. I try to deep clean on weekends if I'm not swamped from school.

Specifics: No first or second years pls

Ty 💖💖💖

I match you with 𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

The First Impression:

One might assume that the first thing Vil notices in a person is their style, or their physical features, or even their body language.

Not really.

Vil absolutely judges people based on their competency, their skill, their dedication to themselves and their passions. And he can absolutely see that in you.

Why He Fell:

What initially attracts Vil is the challenge. He's always looking for new potential, and he can tell that you're both skilled and committed enough to meet his standards- but there's something holding you back. You're quite different from his past potatoes, and he's more than capable of taking a different approach to your case, one without the need for harshness.

Vil isn't one to pry, though he's able to piece together your situation from the random tidbits you drop on him, and soon, his pet project becomes more of a mission. Can't take care of yourself right now? That's fine, he'll do it for you. He'll find a way to create a perfectly manageable routine, fix your sleep schedule, help you with homework, and slowly ease you into a healthier lifestyle with him by your side.

Though he'd never admit it, Vil really likes the feeling of being needed, not just wanted. And, in time, he finds himself needing you and your company just as much.

The Relationship:

You cannot get more competent than Vil Schoenheit. Experience or not, he's a master at navigating relationships, and is more than willing to help you in that regard, as well. He's there at your best and worst, as you are for him- Vil considers the partnership very equal, and would never in a million years dream of upsetting that balance.

(Quite honestly, Vil doesn't want to be treated like an incompetent manchild who can't do anything for himself and he's glad you're on the same page)

He very much appreciates and admires your skillset, interest in learning new things, and your dedication to your passions (one isn't just vegetarian for ten years without some commitment, after all), and sees you as compatible in that regard.

It's a very mature and balanced relationship, one in which you don't even have to imagine him lovebombing or taking you for granted or acting childish. He certainly has his moments, but such is being human.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚matchups!#first vil pull congratulations!!!#he's also a feminist obviously. look at him #long post

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sea-of-dust · 2 years ago

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"They call me rizz lord"

Mikey, Baji, Kazutora x Reader

Summary: they got with someone good with people...maybe too good...

Notes: BANDORI ANNON IM WORKING ON IT M8. l was in the middle of writing Mikey's part then realized y/n's kinda like Sakamoto and Aoi akane.. Finna use story beats from both of em 😼. So yea....ALSO TR SEASON 2 DROPPED

Warnings: Down horrendous background characters. There's a shit ton of references-. sus remarks, swearing, Manga spoilers in kazutoras part

Gender Neutral Reader

He feels warm and fuzzy around you no doubt you two started dating the problem was...that's the reason a lot of people like you too....a whole crowd in fact

You could be walking around the halls with him "you need the homework? I have the answers ^^" "AH Y/N DOING HOMEWORK HOW STUDIOUS" "?" "THEY LOOKED AT MEEE I MIGHT FAINT" you look at them walking faster covering your eyes "Mikey as soon as we turn the corner we run"

He's heard tales of you mostly told by simps. what he didn't know if that they might be true....he's seen you rizz up fountains because your friends wanted to drink out of the fountain you were using. "Bro watch this" they mimic how you spoke to your friend "And then when they bent over to drink it the water started spraying out all over!" "And then they fliped their head back turning to face us in embarrassment!" "REMEMBER WHAT THEY SAID" they clear their throat "oh! Why hello?" The two fans squeal. He's...impressed and also scared.

He's gonna use it as a teasing point "heyyy don't break the sink alright~" "Mikey I beg of you-" "hehe~"

He's also gonna use you to get things he wants. "Listen I'm gonna need you to go in get some dorayaki, come out" "Why are we huddled down behind the building like it's a sneak mission?" "It is!" He jokes. You walk in buy one dorayaki and end up with five. "Crazy they said it was on the house" "YES"

He doesn't mind your simps as long as they don't bother him! He likes going "that's nice" to people telling stories about you and then internally smirking at the fact you two are dating.

Pdas something that's gonna leave the crowd rioting. Everyone thinks you two are close friends till they see you kiss him goodbye or hold his hand. Then they just forget the next day because you breathed near them.

Speaking of pda he suddenly shows ALOT of it when your friend comes up to you. "Oh hi (c/n!)" He's hugging you from behind moving his hands along your clothing to fiddle with it "Y/n! I was hoping you could-" "They're not interested" Mikey pulls you away slowly. your friend and you are confused but they say it anyway "You mind joining me to get some food this weekend" "NO" "Sure!" You waved bye to your friend as Mikey dragged you out of sight.

If he ever came to visit he always notices the house is sparkling clean and lively. It's comforting plus it's your house! He's staying over! Called it no take backs! "Mikey this is the third time...maybe I'll go sleep at yours one of these days" he's kept his house clean ever since you said that. Nearly as sparkling as yours

Lower ranks in the gang often talk about you. "Bro y/n" "THEYRE SO FUCKING CUTE" "IKR" "aren't they in the gardening club?" They all pause "finna start gardening" "YES SIRR" they join the next day finding you in the field. "Lemme help you out with that shawty" "thank you?" "Your wel-" He notices Mikey next to you at that second a little carrot sticker on his face. "Yo <3" They still show up to help out with the school garden too scared to flirt with you. "Yo I heard you tried asking out someone your interested in what happened?" "The boss is already trying to rizz them up"

A student and you made an agreement that they could take pictures of you. You didn't mind after all they're paying you but they started noticing something weird in the pictures. A ghost staring at the camera it's always so close to you. They told you about it pointing at the ghost. "Interesting" you inspect it to make sure it wasn't your boyfriend being a goof. After a full minute of staring you ask "you close to Mikey Sano?" "No" "...shit" you go to the copying room. "Oh hey y/n-" "hi Mikey" you push him aside putting your face in the copying machine. Both of them looked at each other. "Sooo um-" "here..." they show Mikey the pictures. "So should we place salt around the room?" "Idk" "You know its mouth is different in each of these" The photographer looks back at the images and they try to read the ghosts lips Mikey peaking over. "tear m-" "please don't continue Mikey..." suddenly a gust of wind flies the papers you've copied out the window. "The hell did you do-" "I gave our ghost friend a response <3" You walk out the room smiling "if they ever come back tell me. Also that's 5 bucks added to my paycheck this Friday for extended hours" "what-"

He finds it strange how you're so calm when doing things that fluster the average person. Like holding a live bug in your hand after catching that mf mid-air...God that was terrifying....Or the time you let him lay his head on your lap...when he's supposed to be at a meeting. If a toman member ever found you and him they would shout "BOSS" and he would nearly run down to make them can it. "YO BOSS" "boss?" "Sorry gotta go!" "WAIT WHAT ABOUT YOUR COAT-" he runs back and grabs it "cover your eyes and don't open em till I say" you cover your eyes as he runs down "YOU CAN LOOK NOW" you couldn't even say bye as he's zooming off. "The next time you call me boss in front of them were gonna have problems" he pulls the member's cheeks. "Yes sir!"

You decided to try your siblings skin care routine while they were away...on Mikey... "OK then that piece of shit rubs a rock in their ugly ass face...bitch looks like a rock" he'd never hear you talk about someone like that about someone. Giggling awkwardly at some of their comments. "Why do you hate your sibling so much-" "they're an asshole you wouldn't understand you're pretty soft" "huh-" "you heard me your soft" DO YOU KNOW WHO YOURE TALKING TO RIGHT NOW?! He pulls you into his chest. "I have you know I'm the opposite of soft" "oh really?" You grab his arm. "Your hands says otherwise" "that's not what I ment!" "You're pretty soft Sano" you place his hand on your cheek. Damn you and your charm. You take out your phone taking a picture of his face. "HEY!" "using this as your contact"

Some students decided to interview people around school coming up to you and Mikey. "So y/n what's your type?" You pause in your conversation with Mikey. "Guys with abs and a cute personality. I-" you went on a whole speech about cute guys the crew weren't even sure if they should tell you to stop "BUT THEN there's cute girls" "Alright that's enough" "HEY MIKEY LET ME TELL THEM" "You've done enough telling for today" The next day everyone was either ripped or look like they just came off the cute girl tab on pintrest. "What have I done..." "you've made everyone even more of your bitch..." "does that mean...😏" "...no"

If Takemichi were to go to the future you'd always disappear with Mikey, or become untouchable by the gang. In every outcome, you'd always have Mikey's contact info. Some timeliness you two broke up due to him distancing himself for your safety. The times Takemichi did end up talking to you you'd either say. "Don't bring up Mikey like I fuck with him" "He won't tell me his whereabouts either..." "After high school, we kinda drifted sorry man" he could tell that with each of these answers you still somewhat cared for him.

All the inside jokes about him not folding and simping. He did..."You're like the geek you were before around them" "NOT TRUE" "what about the time you two had to go on the train together and they brushed your hand and started talking to you" "eh-" "or the time you muttered while speaking to them" "Chifuyu I think you had enough fun for today..." "you're a simp~" "shut up"

There was a fight at school and someone thought it would be a good idea to throw a potted plant from the gardening club. Unluckily for them you were there and caught it. "EY WHAT THE HELL MAN" "Don't bring the plants into this fight off of school grounds" "oh shit y/n-" litterally everyone stopped fighting just to look at you. "Shit bbg my bad TAKE EM BACK BOYS" "YOU TOOK MORE-" you turned to Baji "You alright" "Tf you mean am I alright" "...you know what maybe the gardening club wouldn't mind" He's been slightly scared of you since but hey atleast he didn't get socked in the face by big Gertrude

You two met a second time on a blind double date. "Oh hey, you're that dude that almost got hit in the face by Gertrude!" "My names Baji.." "Baji! What a nice name!" He could tell you wanted to rip your head off. "so um why did they drag you here?" "They wanted me to "get out the house" or something.." "felt" "yea..whyed your friend drag you here?" "They promised food" you two had a long talk and ended up getting along. You two kept finding each other at the same places and became friends only to start dating a few months later

He doesn't like your "fans" All they really do is talk about you and say the most strange things too. Until he released most of the stories were true. Like the time you started playing a song...ON YOUR ARM. How does that even, what huh what he doesn't understand you but hey...if it works it works...

He also isn't surprised you're popular enough for people to actually listen to your speech at the end of the year. He doesn't mind hearing it either your voice is nice on the ears. Then a student came up on stage with a bat. "Shut up will you!" He tries to run up to you and take a swing when you dodge perfectly taking the mic. "Dreams are near impossible if you don't try" you leave your foot out for the troublesome student to fall on subduing him. "Which is why I recommend trying in class!" The crowd exploded into screams of praise. The speech was so boring but that part? 10/10

You got involved with the gang...Takemichi and Chifuyu often come up to you and they brought you to a spot used for a meeting on the same day. "Baji?" "Y/n?" "Why are you here? Takemichi said this was a private meeting point" "...." He gives Takemichi a death stare before turning back to you. "Let's go get something to eat if you're done here" "alright!" He leads you out putting his jacket over your shoulders. "It's not even cold-" "shush"

Eventually toman learns about you fully and welcomes you in with open arms. They treat you like a little sibling, telling you not to go somewhere their about to fight, telling you who to avoid. "Remember these guys are fucking nuts" "he's kinda pretty tho" "HE'S LITERALLY APART OF A GANG THAT BEATS PEOPLE UP FOR BREATHING" "I'd let him" "....you're a lost cause"

You often carry around multiple hair ties so when he's asleep and conveniently sleeping on his stomach you try to tie his hair into pigtails. You try not to laugh but it's pretty hard when your friends are pretending to play ping pong with his snores sounding like a ball hitting the paddle. "bro wtf are you two doing" "shush shush watch this" your friend swings his arm in rhythm with Banji's snores. You sigh trying not to let out a giggle

You've kept Banji alive for longer that he was intended witch is great the problem is that usually when he time jumps he ends up meeting you as a member of Toman being a high executive or if Baji died in that future you would swear revenge becoming a detective. Those detective endings end in you getting murdered by a toman leader or you having small details you're able to share with him. On regular occasions, he found you and Baji on a date.

You manhandled him once...You had a playful argument with him at gardening club. You were planting when he kept stepping on crops. "You're messing it up Baji..." "sorry sorry" "that's the third time" you sigh fixing it again as he nearly ruins another. You getting slightly annoyed tell Banji to stay near the brick wall. "Don't resist alright" "what are you-" You pick him up and place him down on the flat part of the wall. "Now you can't fuck up the plants" he's kinda concerned that you can manhandle him. Kinda scared of what you'll be able to do to Draken...

Some students are pretty jealous of this natural talent of infinite rizz. So they decided to mess with you a bit. They took your desk somehow. The morning you got to where your desk should have been you sat at the open windowsill. "Please get off the window y/n" "it's the perfect spot of the perfect s/o!!" "You're not even dating" You got down listening to the teacher walking up to Baji "You mind if we share a seat-" despite the fact you whispered people turned their heads to you two moving over their seats. "IM CLEARLY THE BETTER PICK SIT WITH ME" "Y/N I BEG OF YOU PLEASE" "I HAVE NOTES FROM LAST CLASS" the classroom went ballistic as you sat down with Baji sharing the seat. "How do you stop them-" "I don't know anymore..."

You two play video games together and turns out people don't have to see you for then to nearly instantly fall in love with you... "damn wish I didn't get splatted so much.." "we could double team!" "Thx!" The whole teams blocking you now. They don't even allow people on the other team to talk shit. "Really it's fine I'm not using the same weapon anymore" "I'll still stay with you!" "Same!" He's pretty chill about it but asks to play games that don't have an online feature

He does wish he could have you to himself sometimes without people going ballistic over you. So he saved up and took you somewhere people wouldn't recognize you two. A nice quiet spot for you two. "This is a nice spot. The views great! I really can't thank you enough for bringing me here" he feels proud of himself "don't mention it!"

You took him to karaoke as a way to repay him. You two had a blast but he did notice a few weird things. One, when you sung a bunch of people hoarded on the glass outside. Turns out someone left your door open. WHATS WORSE is that they left as soon as he got up to sing, like wtf is he not that good of a singer 😾. Secound, you mostly sang in another language don't get me wrong he liked your singing he just didn't know what you were saying and when he asked you giggled before saying "it's about a girl in love with a dude trying to confess to him before he moves" Just off the giggle and the held in laughs while you sung he's sure you're singing that languages version of the most lewd song known to man

Whenever you two are about to sleep. you can't help touching his checks. Pinching them a bit. If he ever wakes up while you're doing this you'd try to pull away to make sure he didn't notice sometimes he'd pull you in closer. You could hear him mumble something about warmth before closing his eyes again. You can't help but fall asleep shortly after waking up to the hand on your waist now resting on your face.

S A V E H I M

You and your unimaginable charm has made you nearly untouchable until you decided to partner up with him on a task. You did this multiple times and began hanging out after school. He found you slightly annoying thinking that this is how you treated everyone. He only learned later that excluding the people that surrounded you you only considered 3 other people friends excluding himself. He's pissed he feels special. "They're just using you for popularity points" he repeats to himself.

His opinion on you shifted when valentines day rolled around. "Oh hey, Kazutora!" You run up to him. "Y/n..." "Don't y/n.. me let's see what you got" you look so excited you could hardly keep it together. He opens his locker finding a small plush and candy. "It had a letter!" "No need to yell-" he opens up the letter you reading it with him. It read: "Shit bbg I stopped using Google when I found you out cause my search was over" "who in their right mind" "💀" You open your locker only to be flooded with letters. A wave that almost moved you off your feet. "Really hate when this happens" he looks over. "You were prepared for this?" "Yea this happens every year...I read them all over at home and respond" you sigh. "If it makes em happy" you picked up the notes putting them in a spare bag. Kazutora bent down to help. You two gathered the letters into the bag and began your school day. When kazutora got back to his locker later he found another note. "I forgot to ask for your contact info...anyway wanna go to a dinner after school?-y/n" He could tell you tried extra hard on the letter with the same fancy seal on it as the anonymous one. "Oh so you found it! Thank god. Wait does this mean-" "Sure" you slightly shocked. "Oh um...pretty straightforward...let's go?"

When you two started dating he almost completely changed. He's shown to be alot more soft and less careful around you. "You were always so on edge before..." You say while rubbing his cheek. "You're so cute <3" he doesn't respond only clinging to you closer. "So cute~"

He never tells you about the gang and avoids you ever getting involved doesn't stop them from simping tho. "Y/n's pretty popular" "y/n?!" "They're pretty cute" "maybe we cou-" "maybe what" The member was met with Kazutora's looking down at them with a pipe in hand "MAYBE WE COULD ASK FOR TUTORING" "...keep away from them" "alright" the member turns around "who's Kazutora for telling me what to do" The next day the member asks you for help on a homework task. You two stayed back after school as you two settled down he noticed that kazutora was with you. "What's he doing here-" "He needed help on the same task" he didn't he just sat there menacingly as you tried to teach the member. "Crazy he seemed kinda scared" "don't worry about it"

You two joke about your infinite rizz. "It's all fun and games till they hear your morning voice" "my morning voice is fine" "you sound like a grown man..." "pfftt noo i don't ~" he could perfectly recount the time you slept in the same room the first time. He wakes up his arms around you "good morning" "good morn shawty" he jumps outta the end grabbing the nearby lamp. "you good-" "WHY IS YOUR VOICE SO DAMN DEEP" "idk what you're talking about-" "do you not hear yourself talking?!?" "Stfu and go back to bed" "..." He's been in a lot of situations and he'll admit hearing your morning voice for the first time is in his top 3 in scariest ones and it isn't number 3

He hates admitting it but he loves seeing you turn other people down by straight up telling them you have a boyfriend. Sometimes they wouldn't accept the fact you're taken so he gladly pops into existence to sock them in the head.

The one time you left the room you left a hair clip in the same room as him. "What is this" he squeezes the back, the clip opening up. Curiosity gets the best of him as he closes the clamp on his lips, nose, ear-. "What are you doing-" he looks at you like a dear in headlights "is that my mom's hairclip" "No idea what you're talking about" "...it's literally on your lip" "No it isn't" He looks away like an ashamed child being caught red-handed "Take it out" he looks away more "come on Kazutora~" he takes it out and gives it too you after much convincing. "geez that took too long"

"Maybe I should get you a matching earring" "oh?" He got the idea thinking it's a way to mark you as his without making it super obvious. "The earring looks kinda heavy-" "you'll get used to it" "Alright?" I mean it's not like he has the other one on his person...oh he does..."hold still" you try not the flinch as he inserts the earring into your ear. He holds up his phone camera flipping it so you could see yourself. "What do you think?" "It's nice...but still pretty heavy" your head moves with the weight of the earring. "Might have to only wear this on special occasions" "you'll get used to wearing them everyday!" He's like a puppy excited to see it's caretaker after a while. "Well see but for now I don't wanna break it"

In the future you two are still constantly around each other, he was right about the earring thing too you now only take off the earring when you're about to sleep. "Takemichi...you broke Hina's heart this time I'll make sure you turn into a woman by the end of this" you crack your fingers. "Hey hey we could talk this out-" "is that the same thing you said to Hina when you cheated on her" "I just wanted to ask where Kazutora was and I'll be on my way!" "...he's at his job" "tha-" he couldn't get another word out before you socked him. "She treated you well for such scum" The only timelines where you were even slightly kind to him were when he'd slowly become more powerful in the ranks. You didn't respect him but you just couldn't sock him immediately. He's terrified of you even in the past just off of those interactions.

He remembers hearing positive rumors about you and didn't think they were true since they seemed kinda fake. Then he remembered you using the janitor's bucket almost like a scooter... "is that even allowed" "WHO CARES ITS Y/N" "Bro they're being zesty again-"

He likes pda but mostly prefers private displays of affection. Can't let people know he has a soft spot around you ya know. He can't help leaning in to kiss you but it'll be so embarrassing if someone that knows him found you two in that moment. He's also afraid of what will happen if other gangs found out you two were in a relationship so try to keep pda on the down low alright!

He usually hates candy but whenever you two bake something together or you buy him sweets his distain for sweets somehow disappears when you do something for or with him. "Its for the school news show come on!" "If I get a cavity I blame you" "just try it Kazutora" people surround you two like wild animals finding prey after that post went up. "AH Y/N DID YOU REALLY MAKE ALL OF THEM YOURSELF" "I did most of them with Kazutora" "As long as you're part of its creation I'll eat it" "thank you?"

You sleep on him sometimes. People go ham when they see your sleeping face so he's learned to cover your face with a newspaper or something. Keeps simps away and the sun out if your eyes! He also asks you to put your face more inward. "Why so my face would get closer 😏" "do you like the sun in your eyes when sleeping?" "Oh...AWW YOU CARE ABOUT STUFF LIKE THAT. YOURE SO CUTE KAZUTORA!" "I'm right next to you" "you're adorable even with your banana hair <3"

He would come to your house bruised up. "what happened?" "I fell while coming over nothing too bad!" You look at him worried helping him inside "I'm gonna go get a first aid kid alright! Don't move" you run to your bathroom leaving Kazutora alone. He kinda wished you left him with at least a plush he could punch, he's so jealous of those things. You come down with a blanket and first aid kit. "Alright hold still" you patch him up rubbing his cheeks when you finish. "Kazutora...the next time you come into my house lying to me while bruised im going to snap you like a lego brick" Your voice suddenly changes back to its regular cheerful tone "alright!" "Yes y/n!" Now he just doesn't tell you or thinks up a convincing lie while going over.

Reposts Appreciated!

#mikey x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #tokrev mikey #mikey sano #mikey x y/n #mikey x you #tr baji #baji x you #baji x y/n #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x reader #tr mikey #tr kazutora #tr x y/n #tr x reader #tr x you

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ziallslvr · 3 months ago

Text

wRoNg: chapter two

warnings: smut, cheating, masturbation, swearing.

The day after was pretty boring. Niall and Louis went to the dining hall, not bothering to eat, just to see some of their friends down there. Other than that, they had a nice and calm day. The two caught up on homework that they didn’t bother to work on the night prior. Some things were more important than some silly assignments for their gen-eds.

They were in a similar position as they were yesterday with one small change, that being that Niall was the one who didn’t want to get out of bed and get ready.

“Niallllll,” Louis tugged on Niall’s pant leg, trying his best to get him out of the covers. It was getting frustrating, but Louis was being as patient as he could, which was already difficult for him.

“I really don't want to go,” mumbled Niall, holding his pillow up to his face.

“You don’t have to fuck the guy, just say no. I’m sure he’ll give you another opportunity,” Louis sounded desperate to get Niall out of bed. He was actually looking forward to his meeting with Zayn.

“I do, Harry is hot, I’m just,” Niall paused, removing the pillow from his face and leaning up, “I’m really scared. I’ve never done anything like this before. What if I mess up, and I don’t get in?” Louis shook his head, walking to the edge of the bed and signaling Niall to lean in. Niall did, letting Louis give him a quick kiss.

“You’ll do fine, trust me. Little tip, though, don’t take off your shirt,” said Louis, referring to all the bites he peppered on Niall’s abdomen the night prior.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Niall said, finally getting the courage to leave bed. Louis had already moved on to the mirror, making sure every single part of him looked good. Niall shook his head in annoyance. Louis always looked good, and it was exhausting watching him not believe.

“So, are you going to be on top or on bottom?” Louis nonchalantly questioned. Niall’s eyes widened. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what Louis meant, but he had not even begun to think about that.

“Uh, guess it’s up to him,” said Niall, “I didn’t think about it.” That wasn’t true. That was all Niall could think about, and Louis knew that. It was such a pointless lie, but Niall didn’t want to seem too desperate, even if Louis already knew that.

“Hm, alright,” Louis grabbed him and Niall’s ID’s along with some spare cash, just in case they wanted to get Taco Bell after getting absolutely plastered. Plus, Niall and Louis both avoided eating today if the opportunity to bottom came up. Deep down, Niall hoped that was the course of action, only because he didn’t eat and made sure he was clean.

“You down for some Taco Bell after?” asked Louis while they headed down the hallway. They weren’t hand in hand this time, even though both Louis and Niall wished they were. Their bond was already growing, and Niall couldn’t help but admire Louis’ work on his stomach. He had stared at himself in the mirror after he took his daily shower. In a way, Louis was his and he was Louis’.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want Taco Bell with my favorite lad?” They had made it into the elevator just in time, jumping in right before the doors shut. Usual people were in there, specifically their hallmates. They were all nice to talk to, but neither Louis or Niall were close to them.

They finally made it to the first floor after an annoyingly long elevator ride. It was almost stopping at every floor, which wasn’t surprising. Saturday nights were peak frat party nights. Niall and Louis shamelessly went every weekend before they got bidded on, scoping out what frats to join. The duo was just happy to get bidded on by the same frat. If that didn’t happen, they both might’ve just given up on the idea of joining a frat all together.

This night was admittedly colder than last night. Autumn was catching up to the weather, and it was quick at that. Neither Niall or Louis brought a jacket, which only made them freeze to what felt like death walking there. Eventually they’ll learn the busing schedule, but in the meantime, cold walks it was.

Louis let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding in once he heard the music and witnessed the frat house in the distance. They picked up the pace as the bitter cold air finally caught up to them. With the new faster pace, they made it inside in less than five minutes. Scoping out the place, Louis’ eyes met Zayn’s.

“I’ll see you after, okay?” Louis gave Niall a friendly kiss on the cheek, “Remember, don’t do anything you don’t want to do. You’re in control.” Niall nodded slowly before feeling a hand tug on his wrist. He turned, his eyes meeting with Harry’s. Louis waved goodbye and approached Zayn.

“Hey,” Zayn said nonchalantly, “You ready? Or do you need some time to get tipsy. Drinks are in the kitchen.” Louis had no idea where the kitchen even was. He had only been in the main area and a few of the bedrooms. A tour was definitely in his foreseeable future.

“Nope. Let’s do this,” Louis was trying to assert his dominance saying this, but it didn’t work. Zayn seemed like the kind of guy who was power hungry, and it shined through with his attitude.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” Zayn grabbed Louis’ hand and pulled him up the stairs. It was different from how he and Niall held hands. This was more rough, filled with pure lust and desperation. The tight grip on his hand also didn’t help his nerves. Zayn gave off the vibes of a guy who liked to do things rough, and that scared Louis.

Louis didn’t know why he was scared when walking into the bedroom. Zayn locked the door, so no chance someone will walk in or anything of the sorts, but Louis was still scared. It was humiliating enough that he prepared all day for this. What if Zayn wanted to be on the bottom and Louis practically starved himself for nothing? That thought made the brunette chuckle. No way in hell Zayn would bottom, Louis thought, which made Zayn pick up on the behavior.

“What’s so funny, Louis?” Zayn used his name to intimidate him into confessing, “Nothing’s funny.” Louis promptly shut up and gulped. The last thing he wanted was to get thrown around like a rag doll by this boy.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. And don’t talk to me like that,” spat Louis, “Sorry. I dunno where that attitude came from.” Zayn gave him a shady look before listing off his demands: lay on the bed, get undressed, and rub yourself until you’re hard. It was simple enough. Louis got hard pretty easily, since there were only a few occasions he got the opportunity to shag a girl. But this was different. With the direction this was going in, he could only assume that he was not doing the fucking.

Zayn was digging through his dresser drawers, presumably for lube or condoms, or at least Louis hoped that’s what he was looking for. His thoughts were already running wild, leaving him scared. What if Zayn was into some weird BDSM shit? That wouldn’t surprise him. Zayn finally pulled out what he was looking for, and Louis stood correct as usual.

“I’m not getting any younger over here,” complained Louis, still rubbing himself hard. It worked, pre-cum was already leaking through his tip. That was a sign to stop. He couldn’t cum too quick, but then again, could men even cum from getting fucked in the ass? He’d have to look that up later. Well, he guessed he would find out tonight regardless.

“Shut the fuck up,” yelled Zayn before walking to the door and locking it. Jiggling the door, he made sure nobody would be able to walk in. Louis sighed, waiting for the other to get naked and absolutely destroy him. He was getting excited now, but if Zayn didn’t hurry up, he would have to resort to humping the mattress. Now that would be something to bless Zayn’s eyes.

Louis’ eyes were glued to Zayn while he was getting undressed. Tattoos littered on his torso and arms. It was quite attractive, really, it suited his figure and persona perfectly. After Zayn undressed, he was left in his boxers. Louis raised his eyebrows in some sort of shock noticing the wet spot on the boxers. Guess Zayn got excited just by seeing Louis get naked.

“C’mere,” asserted Louis, trying his best to sound desperate. He was, so why not show it? The least Zayn could do was speed up the process. Plus, there was an absolute rager going on downstairs. They couldn’t miss their own party.

Zayn nodded, walking over to the bed and climbing on top of Louis. The latter blushed, signaling Zayn to kiss him. Almost immediately, Zayn leaned down and kissed Louis. He was good, maybe not as good as Niall, but Louis still found his hands wrapping around Zayn’s neck. Maybe Zayn could taste Niall on his lips. That thought turned him on even more, his erection stiffening and rubbing against Zayn’s.

A moan escaped into the kiss, making Zayn practically hump into Louis’ cock. Not even practically, it was jumping, but the adrenaline made Louis unsure. Zayn had sat the lube next to their bodies, and after an intense makeout session, Zayn grabbed it and began coating his fingers. Louis' thoughts were confirmed. He was going to the bottom in this situation. Oddly enough, he didn’t mind it.

His mind was cut off when he felt a burning sensation graze his hole. His face turned into a cringe, his teeth clamping together. Zayn looked up with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Are you okay?” That was the first time Louis ever heard Zayn actually care. During rush week, Zayn just sat back and observed several boys failing the games. This was a new side of Zayn, and Louis was happy he brought it out.

“Mhm, just keep going,” moaned Louis, the sensation finally turning into one of pleasure. Zayn nodded and complied, shoving his fingers deeper into Louis. He needed to stretch Louis out before anything else.

He did a scissor motion with his fingers while semi-humping the mattress. Laundry was definitely on the to-do list for tomorrow. Zayn dug his fingers in deeper, and by the noise Louis let out, he could tell he hit his prostate. His fingers were all the way in, his knuckles brushing against his cheeks.

“Are you ready?” Zayn asked after a few minutes of stretching. Louis did not give a verbal reply, instead just giving him a head nod. Louis was a little nervous about Zayn going in raw, but since he and Harry have been together for so long, he doubted the idea of Zayn having any diseases

Zayn lined himself up to Louis’ hole, slowly pushing into him. This was when the real fun had begun.

“Fuck,” They both groaned out in sync. Louis had never felt this kind of pleasure before. It was like something shot up his back, something so unusual, yet enticing.

“You’re soooo…” groaned Louis, not daring to look into Zayn’s eyes. His face was turned to the left, trying to hide his face in the pillow as best he could without flipping over.

“So what, baby?” Zayn whispered seductively in the other’s ear. He picked up the pace of his thrusts while nibbling on Louis’ earlobe. His tongue circled around it, and Louis was now redder than he was before. He was mentally taking notes while all of this was happening too. Anything could help Niall in the future when their practicing sessions take place.

“You’re so big,” Louis’ cock twitched, desperate to get touched. He knew he wasn’t going to cum just from the penetration, he needed something for his dick to thrust into. Zayn sensed this, moving a hand away from the sheets and onto Louis’ length.

“I know. Let me help you with this,” Zayn synced up his thrusts with the pumps around Louis’ cock. Zayn knew Louis was nearing his cumming point, so he removed his hand once he felt the length heating up in his palm. Instead, his hands now rested against Louis’ chest, pinching at the nipples.

Louis was now a whimpering mess, bringing his own hand to his cock. He felt all three sensations building up one of the most intense orgasms he had ever felt. But, for some reason, Louis wanted to drag this out for as long as he could. He was unsure if Zayn could last this long with the way his fingernails were now digging into his chest and his movements becoming more wild.

Zayn’s body collapsed on top of Louis, a hot liquid pouring inside of Louis. It all happened so fast, and Louis was sad that it was over. It was such an unusual experience, but he loved every second of it. Unapologetically, Louis was now a cockwhore.

“Help me,” Louis said while kissing Zayn. He still hadn’t left his hole, and Louis didn’t want him to until he finished. Zayn complied, wrapping his hand around Louis’ cock once again. His tongue trailed onto Louis’ nipple, and one again, Louis became overstimulated.

After what felt like only seconds, Louis squirted out his hot liquid onto Zayn and his chest. That was Zayn’s signal to finally pull out, so he did, plopping himself next to Louis. He looked tired, which didn’t surprise Louis, because if he was doing the fucking, he would be exhausted. He would have to try that with Niall soon. Only for experimental purposes, of course.

Meanwhile, Niall was already finished and ignoring the pain in his ass, he was having a great time on the dance floor. Music was bumping, and Niall had found him grinding on a brunette girl he just met, red solo cup in hand. Maybe it was the high from the hook-up, or maybe the few shots he took, but he felt on the top of the world. And maybe just a little bit horny.

After Louis cleaned himself up, he headed downstairs. He was a little sore, and he could feel Zayn’s cum leaking out, but other than that, he was fine.

“Niall!” Louis yelled across the crowd. Frowning at the fact Niall ignored him, he approached him and the girl. Jealousy pinged inside his chest, but he shook it off. They had just fucked two different guys on their own, and Louis loved every second of it, so why should he be jealous?

“Oh, hey mate!” Niall shouted over the music, still dancing with the girl. His hands rested on her hips, and Louis couldn’t shake off the feeling. Plus, Niall already seemed drunk, so the best course of action would be to separate the budding fling. Hooking up drunk is a bad idea, regardless of his feelings.

Once Louis felt like they were getting too frisky, he grabbed Niall’s wrist and pulled him aside. They were now in a corner, nearing the kitchen where Niall seemed to get all of his alcohol from. Their faces were inches apart, and Louis scrunched his nose at the smell of hard beer in Niall’s breath.

“You’ve had wayyy too much to drink. We should get you home,” Louis asserted, sounding more like a parental figure than a roommate or lover. Niall rolled his eyes, putting his hands on Louis’ shoulders sloppily.

“You’re messing up my game, lad. I do not appreciate this,” slurred the blonde, leaning in closer and closer to Louis' face. The other’s face flushed, swiftly pushing him away. He couldn’t be seen kissing Niall in public, especially after they both got fucked in the past hour.

“No kissing, Niall. At least not here…” He was now pulling Niall to the exit that was across the kitchen. Sadly, Niall followed, not even bothering to fight. His vision was going in and out of being black, and his walking was wobbly. Louis didn’t even know how he got that drunk so fast. He suspected the raging hormones.

“Why no kissing?” Louis mentally face-palmed. He was nearing being black out wasted, and the issue he was worried about was why Louis wouldn’t kiss him?

“There’s no point in doing this in public. Especially after what just happened,” Louis was now bringing Niall to the bus stop, his hand wrapped tightly around his wrist. He was trying to avoid any dirty thoughts, like how his hand was around his own cock and now it was around Niall’s frail wrist. On the other hand, Niall felt like Louis was trying to squeeze his hand off. It was definitely going to leave a bruise on him considering how easily his body bruised. People always pointed that out when he was younger. He was always the kid on the playground with bruises all over his legs.

“Do you want to know what happenedddd?” Niall sat down on the bus stop’s bench, resting his hand on Louis’ shoulder. Louis wanted to wait until Niall was a bit sober, but curiosity did not kill the cat and got the best of him.

“Mhm,” Louis nodded, making Niall shift his head a bit. It was always uncomfortable to have a head on his shoulder, but Louis made an exception for his blonde boy.

“Well, he threw me on the bed,” Niall lifted his head to look around, making sure no one was listening in. Once the coast was clear, and his vision was less blurry, he continued.

“Actually, we didn’t talk much. He kissed me a bit. It wasn’t as good as last night, but that was okay. Then, he spat on his fingers. You knowwww where this is going, Louis. And he tried to take off my shirt. I said no,” Niall wiggled his index finger in a no position. Louis nodded and giggled, trying not to get hard again at the thought of Harry ruining poor, little Niall’s hole.

“That’s good,” Louis said. Then, the conversation went quiet, and the bus pulled into eyesight. Louis got up, disturbing Niall’s peace on his shoulder. He almost fell right onto the bench, but he caught himself just in time.

The bus ride home was pretty much just Niall sleeping on Louis’ shoulder. He even drooled on his shirt. Louis would have to lecture Niall about that tomorrow.

They made it to their stop, and Louis had to sadly wake up Niall. Clearly annoyed, Niall went ahead in front of Louis and made it inside before him. He didn’t ditch him all the way, though, and he waited outside the elevator for Louis to catch up. Niall was a bit nervous to ride the elevator all the way to their top floor, scared to upchuck pure digestion acid. It wasn’t a good idea to drink on a practically empty stomach.

Finally, they made it up without Niall spilling his guts. Louis held him up with his arms, trying his best to care for his friend. Niall was slowly sobering up, but despite this, he still wanted Louis to help and carry him to bed.

And the boy did, carrying him slightly all the way to bed. Gently, he placed Niall down and followed him by going on the bed. His hands lingered over Niall’s shirt, lifting it up to see his artwork. Harry could never.

“How was it for you?” Niall asked, his face halfway into the pillow. He seemed to be in the better position, Louis noticed, so he decided to tell him. Plus, he deserved to know considering how much he helped him yesterday by blowing off some steam together.

“It was alright. He came inside me. He smoked a cigarette after, and I left. Pretty boring,” lied Louis. It was the opposite of boring. It was one of the funnest things he had ever done, and he regretted none of it. He would do it again if given the chance.

“Wow…” Niall moved his head to look into Louis’ eyes. This made Louis lose control, kissing Niall with a fiery passion. Niall obviously kissed back, pulling Louis in deeper by grabbing his hips and leaving no room between them. Feeling their crotches rub together, Louis moaned into the kiss.

No, Louis, not now. It’s too early.

Louis listened to his inner monologue, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy this kiss. Something about Niall’s lips were intoxicating, almost like a never ending high.

“Did he cum in you?” Louis asked between the breathless kisses, his hands resting around Niall’s neck. He wasn’t going to choke him, but it helped him feel dominant.

“Mhm…” Niall said, not stopping the attack on Louis’ lips. He was still pulling him closer, their ground grinding together at an even pace. Niall felt like he was going to cum in his pants right then and there.

“Use your words.” Louis was not holding back anymore. All he wanted to do was dominate Niall and show him who was in control. It was fucked up, but after Zayn, Louis needed to gain back his power.

“Yeah…” Louis applied pressure to Niall’s neck in a threatening manner, “Yes, he came inside me.” Louis smiled, letting go of Niall’s neck and disconnecting their lips. The younger let out a whimper, missing both the feeling of hands wrapped around his neck and lips on his:

“Goodnight, Ni,” Louis grinned, walking to his closet and grabbing his toiletries and shower things. He really needed to jerk off, but he had enough class not to do it infront of Niall. That would make him even more desperate.

He left the room, softly shutting the door to not scare Niall. Entering the bathroom, he was satisfied to see nobody else was in there. Probably all still partying. It was a Saturday night, what did he expect?

He undressed, finally being able to breath in the crotch area. Feeling a now cool liquid escape his hole made him cringe. No matter how good it felt, Louis promised himself he wouldn’t let anyone cum in him again. He went into the stall and shut the door, making sure it was locked. Nobody would be able to hear what he was going to do.

Turning the knob, cool water trickled out, causing Louis to shiver in response. The water warmed up, and that was when his hand reached down to his crotch. Pre-cum was already leaking out the tip, which made Louis surprised that he was already that horny. Biting his lip, his hand began to move.

After a good wank, Louis finished up his shower and headed back to the room, greeted with a sleeping Niall. He gave him a quick kiss on the forehead before going to bed for the night.

Meanwhile, the frat party was still thriving and alive. Zayn and Harry reunited, not knowing about each other's plans. They seemed to have the same mind, both having the same plan for the newcomers initiation, but they both had yet to find out about one another’s hookups.

Zayn and Harry were in Harry’s room, which reeked of sex, but Zayn didn’t even question it. He was on top of Harry, running his hands through the others' hair, circling his fingers around the tie of the bandana all while kissing him. Their tongue’s were exploring each other’s mouths with a fiery passion that they only had for each other. Or, what they thought they only had for each other.

“I missed you tonight…” Harry mumbled into the kiss, parting slightly to get his words out, “Where were you tonight?” Zayn was a bit taken aback, separating the kiss to reply to his boyfriend.

“I was doing Louis’ initiation. By the way, how was Niall? What’d you do?” Zayn was growing suspicious even though he had no right to be. He was the only cheater in the room. Not Harry.

“You know, the usual. Got him a lil drunk, made him pledge his loyalty, little ass paddling,” Harry was always a good liar. A couple years prior, the initiations were a lot more extreme. Some had even involved police investigations due to hazing. Hazing was always something Harry despised, so when he became one of the heads of the fraternity, he knew that would have to end. Though sometimes these initiations were extreme, they would never involve anything dangerous.

“Oh,” Zayn nodded, imagining Niall getting paddled down by Harry. He was noticeably blushing, which Harry picked up on rather quickly. The curly headed boy did feel guilty about cheating on his boyfriend, but he got tired of bottoming and wanted to try something out. Could anyone blame him for that? Maybe he could find a way to make it up to Zayn.

“You’re red,” Harry chuckled, his dimples visibly showing, “You think Horan’s cute?“ Deep down, Zayn thought the leprechaun was adorable. His blonde hair fit him perfectly, and his blue eyes were some of the most beautiful he had ever seen. Did he compare to Harry? Sort of. Did he compare to Louis? Definitely.

“It’s okay if you do,” Harry leaned back up to peck his boyfriend’s lips, “I do too.” Harry began to think. To get rid of the guilt from cheating on Zayn, all he had to do was let Zayn cheat back. They already had some sort of open relationship. Well, not quite. They had a threesome with a frat brother named Luke their freshman year, but other than that, they hadn’t much with other people.

“How about this, Z? Niall can be… your hall pass of some sort, if he’s interested. It won’t be cheating if I let you. Would you like that?” Instead of a verbal reply, Zayn slowly nodded, squinting his eyes suspiciously. This wasn’t out of character for Harry as he did like watching Zayn make out with Luke, but that was for his own pleasure. Harry wouldn’t be there if he did end up getting with Niall.

“Perfect. Hand me your phone,” Harry said, “I’ll put his number in your phone.” Zayn didn’t even question how Harry had got his number. Truth was, Harry really liked his hook up with Niall, to the point where he asked for his number after.

Zayn handed his phone to his boyfriend. He wasn’t nervous because he didn’t have anything incriminating on it. Hell, him and Louis have only spoken a few times. He even left Zayn like it was a one-night stand. Zayn couldn’t complain, though, because he got a good smoke in after.

Harry typed the number into his phone, putting Niall’s name as Whoran. He chuckled to himself, proud of his little pun. Handing the phone back to Zayn, he put his poker face back on. The two even had a similar type of humor. Zayn also laughed at the name.

“Thank you, Haz,” Zayn said, giving Harry a quick kiss. As usual, it turned into a makeout session. But, the late night exhaustion hit about five minutes later, at least it did for Harry. Zayn could sense his tiredness, splitting apart their sloppy kiss to let Harry sleep. Even though Zayn had his own room, he often slept in Harry’s bed. His excuse was always that Harry had a more comfortable mattress.

“Goodnight, love,” Harry whispered as he crawled under the sheets. On some nights, he would be so tired that he fell asleep in his party clothes. Tonight was one of those nights.

Once Zayn heard precious snores echoing in the room, he rose out of Harry’s bed and walked to his room. He decided to sleep in his own bed tonight, solely because he wanted to text Niall. It would be a disappointment if Niall was already in bed.

He slipped on his pajamas; a simple white tank top and blue plaid patterned pajama pants. He got comfortable in bed after, pulling out his phone and opening a text thread with nobody else but Whoran.

Zayn: hey

Zayn: it’s zayn btw if ur up

Zayn: need to talk to u

Zayn: just lmk when u see this

On the other end, a groggy Niall picked up his phone off his nightstand. He was going to ignore it, but Louis kept yelling at him to answer so whoever on the other line would ‘shut the fuck up.’ Typical Louis.

Niall’s eyes widened seeing the messages. A wave of anxiety went through his body, shaking at the thought of Zayn finding out Niall fucked his boyfriend. Harry had told him that the couple did things differently. There was no chance Zayn knew about what they did.

He knows. I’m over.

Whoran: Hey Zayn! :) What’s up?

Zayn: i just wanted to ask you a question

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He knows. He knows. It’s over.

Whoran: Alright, what is it?

Zayn: would u possibly want to go out tmrw?

This is a set-up.

Niall shook his head. He needed to ignore his intrusive thoughts, even if Zayn seemed like a shady guy,

Whoran: Sure! Watcha wanna do?

Zayn: how does cheesecake factory sound?

Whoran: Are you sure? That place seems expensive!

Niall’s nice persona made himself cringe. Zayn on the other line liked this side of Niall. It made him happy there was some hope for the future of the frat.

Zayn: yeah, my treat. what’s ur schedule look like tmrw?

Whoran: I have two classes back to back from 1:00 to 4:20, but I should be free after that. How about you?

Zayn: perfect

Zayn: have a morning lecture but im free the rest of the day.

Whoran: How does 5:30 work?

Zayn: awesome

Zayn: see u at 5:30

Zayn: what’s ur dorm i will come pick u up

Whoran: Dennison Hall!

Zayn: ok

Zayn: gn horan

Niall didn’t bother to reply. He was too tired, and he could tell Louis was getting annoyed at the steady communication. Louis needed his beauty sleep. His own words, not Niall’s.

Truth be told, Niall’s phone ringing interrupted his sweet dreams about Harry. But, that was a story for another day, when Louis was awake and not half asleep.

#ziall #zouis #nouis #zarry #larry #narry

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blue-bujo · 1 year ago

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Bowled Over (Roy Kent x Reader): Chapter Eight

You work at a bowling alley and a young girl named Phoebe has a birthday party there. You catch her uncle's eye.

Roy Kent x female reader

Will try to update roughly every two weeks

Chapter Eight: Roy Kent, Baby Whisperer

(7.2k words)

Warnings: Roy Kent-level language (you know what you're in for), insecurity, mentions of sex, tooth-rotting fluff

Summary: Roy takes a big step and asks you to come to a team dinner at Ola’s, where you get to properly meet the greyhounds and their families.

Author's note: Buckle in for a long one! This is to tide you over, because I probably won't be posting a new chapter in January; we've got family birthdays three out of the four weekends, so I don't want to stress about getting something out in time. Happy New Year, and I'll see you with a new chapter in a month!

You had great fun driving Roy’s SUV for the next few weeks. It was large and expensive, so people tended to give it a wide berth. And since you didn’t have to walk to work, you were getting to sleep a bit later, which was doing wonders for you.

It was amazing that Roy let you use the Beast without any hesitation, that he trusted you that much. That he wanted to spend time with you, and keep you around, and know you deeper. Things were going very well between the two of you.

Lettie was completely invested. She wanted to know every single detail, and had done her homework on Roy once you’d revealed that he was a public figure. She’d questioned every single text and phone call that made you smile during a shift, demanding to know exactly how Roy was treating you right. You’d even caught her telling the other members of staff that you were dating “a football legend.”

Roy had gotten a kick out of that when you’d told him one date night. It was at your favorite restaurant, a little hole-in-the-wall Italian place where he was unlikely to be spotted by paparazzi. Rumors were starting to swirl that he had a “mystery girl,” which both thrilled and terrified you, but thankfully no pictures had been sneakily snapped. Yet. You were still able to enjoy your anonymity, laughing and twirling pasta with the man you’d been lucky enough to meet while you worked his niece’s birthday party.

“So let me understand this, she tried to tell Snack Bar James that he’d forever missed out on catching you because now your standards are too high for the likes of him?” Roy’s eyes were crinkled at the edges as he tried not to grin.

“Pretty much,” you laughed. “I think we were both relieved. Lettie’s been trying to set us up for the entire year he’s worked with us, but he’s obviously more interested in Ashley in the pro shop.”

“Still, that Lettie’s a fuckin’ savage,” said Roy, respect heavy in his gruff voice. Then he took a bite of his chicken parmesan and sighed happily, looking at you.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing. Just- this is nice. Us. I’ve been enjoying myself.”

“That’s good to know, considering we haven’t really done anything. What with your knee and everything.”

You both glanced down to the offending appendage in its articulating brace. Roy would hopefully get the okay from physio the following week to begin putting weight back onto it and using it more normally, but you were enjoying being the chauffer for now. It leant itself to quiet days in, calm conversations and movie nights snuggled on the couch, sometimes with Phoebe as well. It was hardly any different from your quiet existence before, except you weren’t lonely anymore.

“You’re kidding about doing nothing, right?” The man put down his fork and trained his gaze on you. It was one of the things about him that you loved best; he made sure that those around him felt seen. “This isn’t nothing, it’s fucking everything. I get to be a normal bloke with you, hearing the petty gossip of normal people. I haven’t had this in pretty much my entire adult life. I love this.”

He paused, his mouth open like he wanted to continue the thought. Like he might want to say that he loved you, but he didn’t say anything more. It disappointed you more than you expected; you realized that you maybe cared more deeply for him than you thought. Maybe you loved him.

A grunt jolted you out of your thoughts. Roy was looking at you tensely.

“I just fucked that up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

And it was you were confused by your own feelings, so it was okay that he was taking responsibility for acting on his. He reached for your hand and held it tight.

“I’m an idiot. I know. Can I make it up to you?”

Your attention piqued, you nodded. “Yes, you can. How are you making it up to me?”

You watched as he took a breath, sat up a little taller, and asked, “Come to a family dinner with me?”

“A family dinner?”

“Well, we call them family dinners. Sam started it. It’s really a team dinner.”

Up to now, Roy had kept his football life separate from his dating life. You were excited that he seemed ready for his circles to start converging.

“Are you really sure you want me to come?” you asked. “That’s a big step, Roy.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. The boys have a pool going on why my mood’s been so abnormal, and I’d love to prove them all wrong. They think it’s because I’m on painkillers or some shit.”

“Didn’t you tell them that you’re not taking anything stronger than Tylenol?”

“Of course I fucking did, but they didn’t believe me. What do you say? Want to help me prove them wrong?”

“I would love to help you prove them wrong, but only if I get a cut of the pool,” you giggled. “Considering I’m the cause of it, I deserve it.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Fine, you get a cut of the winnings if you can convince any of those idiots to share with you. Happy?”

“Yes, very.”

“Fuckin’ right.”

The two of you smiled at each other over your pastas. You were happy, even more so that he wanted you to start meeting his team. He’d been very protective of them, and of you, and you suspected of himself in keeping his worlds apart. You could understand it; it was always more comfortable keeping things in their separate placed. But you were pretty excited that he deemed you worthy of introducing into another part of his life.

“What are team dinners like?” you inquired. Then you took a large bite of your dinner so he’d have to say more than two words.

“They’re fine,” grumbled the man in response. “Once a month we all go to Ola’s, and Sam has us try some new Nigerian dish he’s thinking about putting on the menu. Richard brings wine, because he’s fucking French, and the lads destroy a week’s worth of training with how much they eat. It’s nothing fancy. People bring dates if they’ve got any.”

“But not Roy Kent,” you pointed out. “The day he brings a date will be one for the books.”

“Hmm.”

If it was possible for a man to look nervous while eating chicken parm, Roy was doing it as he thought about bringing a girl to a team function. You smiled reassuringly at him and tapped his foot under the table with yours.

“It’ll be great. I’ve already met them anyway, so now it will just be a reintroduction, which is much less awkward,” you promised. “I’ve been meaning to catch Jamie for a few weeks now.”

“Why?”

“To thank him for chauffeuring you around on the days I work! He must really like you for him to do that, and I need to thank him for being good to you.”

Roy could obviously tell that you were trying to push his buttons, but took the bait all the same. “The only thing he is to me is a prick. Please don’t encourage him. He’s been trying to corner me in the car park for the past two weeks to see who’s been dropping me off. I’m trying to protect you from him for as long as possible.”

His logic made no sense. “By inviting me to meet him and the rest of your idiots?”

“Beat ‘em to the punch,” he said. “We do it on my terms instead of theirs, so I control the conversation. It’s tactics, just like on the pitch.”

You threw one last jab. “I thought Nate was the tactics man?”

Those expressive eyebrows scrunched down. “Fuck you, babe.”

You finished your meals, ordered dessert, and ended your date night. After dropping Roy off at his house, you went home to your flat. You fell asleep thinking about the team dinner, three nights away, and how lucky you felt to be getting more serious with the man who insisted he didn’t care about it but obviously wanted you to go with him. The man who wanted you.

The day of the team dinner, you pulled up to Nelson Road early. You and Roy had decided that it would be easier for both of you to be the first to the restaurant and have the attention spread out, rather than arrive together later and be bombarded by the entire team at once. You’d thought you’d timed it so that nobody would see you idling in the parking lot, but after a moment, you realized there was someone in the Aston Martin parked next to you.

It was Jamie Tartt, and he was sitting in the passenger seat of his own car waiting for you to notice him. Once you did, he hopped out and motioned for you to roll down the window.

“And what are you doin’ in Coach’s car?”

“Driving,” you quipped.

“Driving Coach’s car?” the man probed. “When Coach just so happens to have someone driving him around while his knee is unusable? And when there are rumors that he’s got a girl?”

You did your best to keep your face neutral. “I know, it’s quite a coincidence, but stranger things have happened. Coach Kent and I just happen to have the same taste in cars.”

It wasn’t a lie, just not wholly the truth. Now that you had driven the Beast for a while, you loved it. Jamie eyed you good naturedly and didn’t say anything else, content to lean in the window. You could see why Roy found him annoying at times, but also why he would probably die for him. His manner was so casual that he was completely disarming.

“What are you doing here, Jamie?” you questioned. “No one else is here, so training can’t be done yet.”

“Me? Nothin’. Just forgot me headband.”

Your eyes darted to the elastic currently holding back his floppy hair. Strands were flying away; it had obviously been there for a while. You raised an eyebrow to let him know you weren’t fooled by his lie.

He shrugged. “All right, you caught meh. I’ve been trying to catch Coach’s driver for weeks, but haven’t managed it until today. I was hoping the rumors were true about our old man finding a girlfriend, and I’m really glad it’s you.”

“Oh? Why?”

“Because it’s right, innit? He hasn’t looked at anybody the way he looked at you at the bowling alley. Not since Keeley, and that look was different.”

Keeley. The model, and previous girlfriend. You felt extremely insecure every time you thought about her with Roy, despite his insistence that you didn’t need to. “I don’t know about that. Keeley’s famous.”

With a scoff, Jamie challenged, “And do you think that matters to Granddad? He only does what he’s sure of. Anyways, he’ll be out soon, and I don’t want him to see me out here. I told him I were being sick so he wouldn’t ask any questions. Are you coming to family dinner tonight?”

Nodding, you replied, “Yes, but it’s a secret. You can’t tell the team. It’s going to be a surprise.”

“I won’t tell, swear down.” He started bouncing back and forth between both feet. “I better get back inside. I’ll see you tonight!”

“You sure will. Oh, and Jamie!” you called as he jogged away.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for driving Roy on the days I can’t. We both appreciate it, even if he’s too tough to say anything.”

Jamie grew two inches taller under your praise. He pointed at you and smiled. “Oh, he definitely needs to keep you around. See yah, Splits!”

The young man bounced back into the stadium, leaving you to wait for Roy. You didn’t see the prick in Jamie the way Roy had described him to you, but then, you weren’t in charge of him. You supposed somebody that chipper could be a bit of a handful. But you were pleased; the first interaction with somebody know you were the girlfriend had gone well, and the information hadn’t even been a surprise. It boded well for tonight.

Roy was upstairs; you could hear the steady thumping of his crutches as he got ready for the dinner. He’d finally mastered navigating the stairs, thank goodness, so you didn’t feel the need to run back and forth grabbing clothes and toiletries for him. This gave you time to do your makeup. Admittedly, you didn’t need long, as you were pretty minimal when it came to painting your face, but you were nervous, and kept messing it up.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t met the team before, and your conversation with Jamie had gone well earlier today, but tonight was your public debut as Roy Kent’s girlfriend. After tonight, there was no going back. There would probably even be press hiding somewhere, waiting to be the first to confirm the news that Roy was seeing somebody new.

“What’re you doing? You’re staring into space?”

Roy’s gruff voice startled you, and you almost stabbed yourself with your mascara wand. You hadn’t heard him come downstairs, but his reflection in the mirror was leaning on the doorframe, like he’d been watching you for a little bit, his face soft.

“You are so quiet when you want to be, it’s scary,” you scolded, turning to face him. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry. I don’t mean to be scary; it just happens.” He looked at you, a small smile curving his lips. “You look great.”

With a scoff, you told him “I look okay at best. I’m not done yet.”

Roy stepped closer and looked you up and down carefully. “No, you look done and you look incredible. Don’t change one thing. What the fuck has you so freaked out?”

“After tonight, there’s no hiding,” you said in a small voice. “If I make a bad first impression, or a photographer gets a picture of me mid-sneeze, or choking on my food or something, that’s it. I will forever be the idiot that you took pity on.”

“No, you’ll be the young and beautiful date of a washed-up old has-been.” Roy kissed the top of your head. “The team will go easy on you. Its me they’ll be fucking with.”

You looked up at him, hovering above your hair. “Do you promise?”

“I promise. Now finish up, so we can get going. I want to beat everyone there.”

“Okay. I’ll be out in a minute,” you said, turning back to the bathroom mirror. Roy’s reflection swung away on its crutches, and you quickly put on the rest of your mascara before pulling the green sweater over your head and doing your hair. When you walked into the living room a few minutes later, Roy was gazing up at you with the look that Phoebe called his heart eyes.

“Is that the same jumper you wore on our first date?” he asked.

“Yeah. I remember you liked it, but I don’t have to wear it if it’s not right.”

“It’s perfect,” said Roy fondly. “They’ll all love you.”

You both walked to the car, and Roy put on his cheesy pump-up playlist for you. It only got through a few songs before you arrived at Ola’s, but it had the desired effect, and you were less anxious about the impending ordeal.

Roy was looking around as you parked the Beast. “I don’t see any of their cards,” he grunted. “Let’s get inside while we’re still in the fucking clear.” He reached toward you and squeezed your hand. “Ready?”

Squeezing back, you braced yourself and hopped out. Sam Obisanya’s restaurant, Ola’s, was a cute little corner unit deeper than it was wide. Airy curtains obscured most of the dining room from outside view, but you could see inside enough to know that you and Roy were the first ones there, as planned. Two people were bustling in the back when you opened the door for Roy, and while one ducked into the kitchen, the other approached.

“Coach!” called Sam, smiling widely. “Welcome! I’m so glad you could make it, although we’re not quite ready for everyone yet.”

Roy was obscuring you from Sam’s view while you followed him in. “Wanted to make sure that the close parking spots would be open, so we came early.” Your boyfriend stepped to the side as he said “we,” and pulled you to him.

Only for a moment, Sam faltered, then his eyes lit up as he recognized you, and realized the rumor about his coach was true.

“You’re the lady from the bowling alley!”

“Guity,” you chuckled, extending a hand to properly introduce yourself, but before you could do that, Sam took it in both of his and shook it warmly.

“I am so very glad that you are here, and that you are with Roy! What is your name?”

Roy introduced you before you could respond, and the sheer amount of pride in his voice made your heart melt a bit. He was acting like he didn’t deserve to be on your arm, not the other way around. And he was smiling, unashamedly.

“I am so glad to officially meet you,” beamed Sam, “and so glad that Coach gets to be with someone so lovely. I do hope that you enjoy yourself tonight.”

“I’m sure I will. Thank you, Sam. If the food is as good as the restaurant looks, I’m in for a treat.”

“Do you want to sit down, babe?” Roy gestured to a table in the corner, out of view of the door.

After a last smile at Sam, you joined Roy. He practically threw himself into a chair, and then carefully stretched his knee out onto one of the extra seats.

“That didn’t go so badly, as far as introductions go,” you told him.

The man grunted. “Sam is the golden child of the team. I wasn’t worried about him. It’s the other ones that’ll be idiots about it.”

The other ones showed up shortly thereafter. From your corner, you and Roy watched the team slowly trickle in. Coach Shelley and his fiancée were the earliest, and both lit up when their gazes settled on you. Jade planted herself next to you and told you how happy she was that there would be another girl there to talk to when Roy and Nate inevitably started talking tactics. You liked Jade; she could hold her own.

Some of the second team came in next. They all greeted you warmly, and heaped verbal abuse on Roy for taking so long to settle down. One of them, Paul, was the oldest on the team since Roy’s retirement, and promised you a few stories of their time playing together before his daughter pulled him away.

The defenders and midfielders arrived together, minus Jan Maas, who was apparently late to everything. Isaac McAdoo shook your hand seriously.

“He’s good to you, yeah?” he asked.

“Of course I’m fucking good to her!” Roy spluttered. “You’ve known me for years!”

“It’s always the ones you think you know,” Isaac said darkly. He looked you in the eye, still holding your hand. “If he ever stops being good to you, you call me and I’ll fuck him up for you. You’re at a family dinner, so you’re one of us now.”

“I’ll let you know if that ever happens,” you promised, trying your hardest not to laugh at how Roy was gripping one of his crutches like he was going to hit Isaac with it. The captain wisely moved out of reach before that could happen.

Most of the team didn’t seem all that surprised to see you. You saw a few bank notes changing hands throughout the course of the night, but everyone was more or less calm about you being there. Roy even halfway relaxed, until Jamie came in with Jan Maas in tow.

“The dinner can start now, ‘cos the party’s arrived!” he called as he came in, arms wide. “Splits! What are you doing here?”

Jamie was acting like your parking lot conversation had never happened. He plopped down next to Roy and stared at him cheekily. “Coach, I’m surprised at yah. Keeping a lovely lady all to yourself? Not cool.”

“And why should I have to share every fucking detail of my life with a prick like you? You’d only make a huge deal out of it and lord it over the whole team that you knew something about me that no one else did, and then no one would leave me the fuck alone.”

“Roy,” you interrupted, sensing that the rant would have been a long one, “Jamie already knows. He saw me driving your car when I came to pick you up.”

Eyes narrowing, Roy could only growl. You and Jamie grinned at each other.

“I think it’s great, man. You needed some happiness in your life, and she seems to be giving it to you. We all knew something was going right for you, and it definitely wasn’t your knee.”

Your boyfriend’s nostrils flared once, but then he looked at you and softened, just the slightest bit.

“All right, fair enough,” he admitted. “Life isn’t terrible right now, even with my shit knee.”

“She must be special, to make you that happy. You aren’t having any sex right now with your knee like that,” deadpanned Jan Maas.

There were shouts. Half the team jumped out of their chairs anticipating a fight. You reached out to grab Roy’s shoulder, as did Jamie, you noticed. Bad knee or not, you wouldn’t put it past Roy to lunge at the taller man after a comment like that. He had already grabbed one of his crutches and was brandishing it like a club.

Coach Shelley was talking the team, and the dutchman, down. “That was uncalled-for, even for you, Jan. There are ladies present.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Coach. I can handle it,” Colin Hughes joked. It made everyone else relax, but Roy was still furious.

“I’ll kill him. I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill him.” His growl certainly sounded murderous. “Embarrassing you like that.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you liked. “You told me he could be rude.”

Jamie shook his head disapprovingly. “Rude and Dutch. That was mental. He’s lucky our old man here is laid up.”

“I could still kick his ass, just let go of me!”

“How about some dinner?” Sam shouted over the din in his dining room. “Simi and I have some new dishes for you all to try.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for the Beards?” someone from second team asked.

“Who knows when they’ll show up?” someone else called sarcastically. “Queenie probably pitched another fir, and they’re never on time anyway.”

You looked to Roy. “Queenie?”

A growl; Roy seemed incapable of speech as he glared at Jan Maas. Jamie answered your question.

“Coach Beard’s daughter. They named her after the chess piece. Poor babeh hasn’t forgiven them for it. She’s always screaming.”

A few of the men loudly agreed that dinner should be served before Coach Beard and his family arrived so everyone else would be able to eat in peace. You weren’t sure that any team function could be considered “peaceful,” but agreed that dinner shouldn’t wait. Sam and his chef Simi – you couldn’t figure out whether they were dating or not – brought out countless platters of delicious food, and you all dug in. With every bite, you found yourself falling in love with Nigerian cuisine. Even Roy’s bad mood couldn’t stand up to it, and soon he was listening intently to the conversations around him, his hand on your knee under the table.

You quickly learned that not many people kept to one seat. Higgins and O’Brien found their way to your table to learn more about bowling from you, and you spent an enjoyable few minutes talking strategies, moreso for O’Brien’s benefit than Higgins’. The reserve keeper had enjoyed the team bowling night so much that he was considering joining a league. You would have been happy gushing about your sport all night, since everybody at work had already heard everything you had to say, and O’Brien was willing to listen. Higgins, too; you learned that he was registered for a tournament that you were also competing in at your alley, and he wanted to know which oil patterns were going to be laid. But your conversation was cut short when the door to the restaurant opened, and a screaming toddler was dragged in by her parents.

You recognized Coach Beard; he was often shown next to Roy during match broadcasts. The woman with him must be his wife Jane, who Roy had told you was slightly insane, but in a different way than Beard was. The two-year-old looked more like Jane, and was crying as only an unhappy toddler could. Half of the team looked sympathetically at Beard, Roy included, and the other half looked annoyed. Queenie didn’t seem to be popular.

She didn’t stop crying and whining. For twenty minutes, the Beards, and eventually everybody else, tried to cheer her up while they ate, but it was useless. People started scooping her up and passing her around, just trying to keep her occupied long enough for her to forget she was upset.

It didn’t work.

People were starting to get antsy, looking at the exit as if contemplating how quickly they could reach it. Wives and girlfriends were still trying to soothe Queenie, while Beard and Jane scarfed down a meal. Jade reached out for a turn, and put her purse in front of the girl to distract her. You would be the next victim if Jade couldn’t calm her down.

Unfortunately, digging through a purse wasn’t what Queenie wanted. She looked like she was gearing up for another fit. The adults at your table exchanged glances.

“Does anybody have a better idea?” challenged Jade.

You could only shrug. The only children you had in your life were the kids in the youth league, and they were older. Toddlers didn’t make any sense to you. Nate also seemed to be at a loss. After waiting a moment, Roy let out a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“All right, give her here,” he grumbled, holding out his hands. “Don’t any of you know any kids? Fucking amateurs, all of you.”

Once he had Queenie, Roy stood her up in his lap, holding her up by her hands. They looked at each other seriously, as if acknowledging each other’s existence. Roy did the same thing with you, you realized; every time he spent time with you, he ignored his surroundings to focus on you. Then Roy lowered her hands, and rather than stand on him, the toddler chose to snuggle up on him, her front pressed against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her and tucked his chin into her curls, which she’d wedged under his head.

Ola’s was silent. Mouths hung open in shock, eyes stared at the manager. He glared at everybody.

“What are you all staring at?”

“She stopped,” Beard said, awestruck. “She hasn’t stopped in days.”

“You’re the fuckin’ baby whisperer,” chuckled Jamie.

“You’re forgetting about Phoebe. She was small once. I learned with her.”

Roy was speaking to the room, but he was looking at Queenie burrowed into his chest. There was something so gentle in the way that he was with her; you hadn’t even seen it with Phoebe, maybe because she was older. It was like he was marveling at her, or in her willingness to trust him. Seeing this gruff man melt made you fall a little deeper for him.

The team was stunned at this peaceful side of their coach. Across the dining room, Beard and Jame were having a hushed conversation. Roy was choosing to ignore all of them; he was focusing on Queenie, who was starting to look like she was going to fall asleep as he rubber her back.

“Incredible,” Nate murmured. “I didn’t know you had this in you, Roy.”

“No reason to let it out at Nelson Road,” he grunted. “Now shut up. She’s not going to stay quiet if you idiots wake her up.”

Rather than say anything else, the assistant coach went to another table with Jade. Jamie followed suit, leaving you with Roy and Queenie.

“She really trusts you, Roy,” you observed quietly.

“Hmm.”

“Any reason why? Have you babysat her before?”

“No. I think she can tell that I’m just as scared of the world as she is, and she takes some comfort in that.”

“Roy Kent is scared? What does Roy Kent have to be scared of?”

Your boyfriend finally tore his eyes from Queenie to look at you.

“Roy Kent the footballer wasn’t scared of anything. But Just Roy… He’s effing terrified of life after football, and how great it’s turning out to be, and how much could be lost if he effs it up.”

It was startlingly honest. You’d never heard Roy that open before, even when it was just the two of you. Kids were apparently his weakness, which kind of made sense. He was fiercely protective and took care of everybody he cared about; children needed caring for more than adults did, so he probably felt even more himself while he had someone small to protect. Plus, he apparently related to how he thought kids viewed the world, which probably contributed even more to his being comfortable enough to share.

Your thoughts were moving too fast and with too much emotion for you to articulate anything, so you reached out to gently play with Queenie’s hair. Roy, his chin still in those curls, snuck a quick kiss onto your hand and smiled contentedly at you. It would have been a tender moment, had Jane and Coach Beard not chosen it as their moment to approach. Some of the usual grumpiness settled back onto your boyfriend’s face once he noticed them.

“Roy,” Jane began in what could only be described as a wheedling tone.

“What do you want?”

“We were hoping we could ask you to watch Queenie for a bit. You’re so good with her, and she’s been so difficult the past few weeks…”

Beard interrupted. “We’ve got to do some stuff around the apartment, and it will be a whole lot easier without a 25-month-old screaming the entire time.”

“It will only be about an hour,” continued Jane. “We’ll be quick.”

They looked pleadingly at Roy, who rolled his eyes. He didn’t have to think for long.

“Fine, but only because she’s effing asleep, and because I’m still injured, which are two very good reasons for me not to move.”

“Thanks, Roy,” said Beard. “We’ll be quick.”

“Effin’ hope so. If you’re not back in an hour, like you said, I won’t be doing the training reports for the rest of the month, you will. That’s my condition.”

“Deal.” Coach Beard took his wife’s hand. “We appreciate this, Roy.”

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “You’re wasting valuable time. Now scram.”

You heard something that could almost be a laugh come from Roy as he watched the could run off.

“What are you laughing about?”

“I just got out of a month’s worth of reports,” he chuckled smugly. “It’s a ten minute trip to their flat, if they run the whole way, and they won’t. They can’t keep their hands off each other.”

“So you just agreed to babysit a difficult toddler for who knows how long, just to get out of doing some paperwork, because you know your coworker would be distracted by his wife?”

“Pretty effing smart, right?”

Roy was quite pleased with himself. He even kept conversation up for a few minutes more than usual before he let it die, and by then, Sam and Simi were bringing out the next course. Yor table was given a wide berth – nobody wanted to risk waking Queenie – but you and Roy were fin with that, and enjoyed having a break from everyone’s attention.

Until Dani Rojas walked over.

“Hola, Roy! Have you seen Coach Beard?”

At this point, it had been well over an hour since he and Jane had left.

“No, they went home to get some things done without Queenie in the way.”

“Oh. So you are babysitting, yes?”

With a suspicious look at you, Roy answered, “Yeah. Why are you fu- effing asking?”

“No reason, really. Mostly, I wanted to tell you how good it is to see you and Señora Splits here together. You look like a real familia, sitting here with the little Queen.”

You felt some color rise to your cheeks, and saw how Roy shifted his weight uncomfortably. First Jan Maas bringing up the sex thing, and now Dani Rojas bringing up a family, kids! This team definitely wasn’t shy.

“Oh! I apologize, you just started dating. These topics are probably uncomfortable, yes?” Dani glanced between you and Roy apologetically, reacting to your reactions. “I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.”

“Dani,” growled your boyfriend as he put his hands over Queenie’s little ears, “fuck off. Now, please.”

The striker retreated back to his original seat, which left you and Roy alone again. You subconsciously started twisting a ring you always wore, your mind racing as you contemplated everything. Did you want kids? You’d never really had the urge, unlike the girls you’d grown up around, who’d had baby names picked out by the age of twelve. Nothing specifically bothered you about kids, but you’d never been in a hurry to have any. But seeing Roy in front of you, murmuring softly to Queenie…

Maybe, with the right person, domestic bliss wasn’t unattainable.

“What’re you thinking about? You’re doing your ring twisting thing.”

You weren’t ready to have this conversation yet. Not here, where a footballer could interrupt at any second. You chose to ask your own question instead.

“What were you saying to Queenie just now?”

“I was saying sorry for swearing, just in case she heard me tell Dani to eff off.” The corners of his mouth were threatening to turn upwards. “I’ve been trying so hard all night not to corrupt this baby the way I’ve corrupted Phoebe, but at some point, you have to say it.”

“I was wondering why you were censoring yourself,” you smiled. “It’s been strange.”

“Yeah. Not how I expected my night to go, but it’s been all right. My knee’s killing me from having this one in my lap all night, and I need to use the toilet, but other than that.”

“Where are the Beards? It’s been closer to two hours. You should try to get two month’s worth of reports out of it.”

The twinkle returned to Roy’s eyes as he realized the genius of your suggestion. Then he shifted Queenie higher, probably to relieve some pressure from his knee.

“Knowing those two, they’re probably all over each other. Hopefully not making another of these little gremlins, because they don’t give enough attention to the one they already have.”

“Do you think it’s an attention issue?” you asked. “She’s had attention all night.”

Before he answered you, Roy let out an aggravated sigh. “No, she’s been handled all night. None of that lot actually interacted with her, they just passed her around trying to distract her. Kids are people, too, you know. They want to feel included the same way adults do. Honestly, babe, you coach youth bowling, how do you not know this?”

“I guess I’m just good at seeing them in the context of bowling, where it’s my job to watch after them,” you mused. “But I may not be a natural like you.”

You expected the man to respond with something sarcastic, but he looked thoughtfully at Queenie once more. As did you. As much as you didn’t want to have the conversation here in the open, seeing him so comfortable with her felt like it might be a small glimpse at a future. The two of you hadn’t been together long – only six weeks – but it was serious, and future wasn’t out of the question for you.

Gradually, you felt Roy’s gaze on you. All harshness was dissolved from his face.

“I know you don’t want to talk about this in public, and I’m with you on that, but I want you to know… I don’t hate this. I think I’ve known since Phoebe was born, but I hadn’t really thought about it until my career went up in flames and I had to effing retire. I think I want a family to take care of. Kids. Or just one, I don’t know. But I need you to know that before we fu- effing go any further. We can talk about it later, when you’re ready. If you’re ready. You don’t have to be, and if it was too early to say, I’m really sorry. I can be –“

“Roy, stop.” His voice was getting high and strained, and he had yet to take a breath; you had to make him stop to breathe. “I think it may be something I want, too. It’s okay.”

And it was, you realized. The man in front of you, holding the toddler that wasn’t yours, could be something very serious. He’d taken a chance on you, somebody decidedly outside his world, and brought you in. He’d given you his trust and his weakness, and become a steward of yours. He was the baby whisperer. He could be the endgame.

It was all so simple. He could be it. And he seemed to think that you might be it, too.

“Oi, take Queenie for a second.” Always abrupt, Roy seemed to be switching topics. “I can’t stand it anymore; I have to get up before I piss myself, and before my good knee locks up.”

You held your hands out, and Roy passed you a drowsy toddler. You made sure to acknowledge her before she settled, as he had, and she didn’t fuss as she nestled into you, using one of your boobs as a pillow. Roy was already stumping away towards the back of the restaurant, and the team was busy passing around a dessert, so you were alone with your thoughts. It may have just been biology, or attraction, or the fact that sex had been reference more than once tonight, but cradling a sleepy little kid that had been handed off to you by the man you were currently seeing was doing something to your insides. A yearning was suddenly there. You could imagine a tiny, foul-mouthed menace running amuck.

Roy was it.

Roy was so distracted that he hadn’t noticed he was washing his hands with sanitizer until it found a paper cut. He swore and corrected his mistake, then looked his reflection dead in the eye in the mirror.

The man hadn’t seen himself wear this expression before. In the press, he’d always looked angry, all hard angles and glares. Having Queenie all night had melted it all away, and Just Roy, staring back at him looked… Fond? He wasn’t sure. It was something soft.

He reached for a paper towel to dry his hands, his mind spinning. Taking care of Queenie all night had ignited something warm in his chest, which felt suspiciously like his heart. But it wasn’t really about Queenie, was it?

No, it wasn’t. It was about the woman who’d been beside him, who hadn’t flinched through this whole night. And its many twists, turns, and blunt footballers. Splits had exuded grace all night, and he hadn’t consciously noticed until this moment how peaceful his normally-raging thoughts were whenever he was with her.

Just Roy was wearing heart eyes when he looked back in the mirror.

“Fuck. She’s the one.”

As he hobbled out of the toilets and back to the table, Roy knew with more certainty than he’d ever had in his life. He wanted to serve her, to protect her, to have her, to love her. For her to hold his kids as gently and tenderly as she was holding Queenie right now, who hadn’t even noticed the return of her parents.

Fuck being Roy Kent. He wanted to be Just Roy with her. Splits was it.

She smiled up at him when he got closer.

“Better?”

Why was she asking if he was better? Oh, right, his quick retreat to the toilets, which had been a bit of a lie because he’d needed to get his emotions in check more than he’d actually needed to go.

“Yeah, much better, thanks. How was Queenie?”

“An angel,” Splits answered. “You’re onto something with this whole acknowledgement thing. I was just telling the Beards.”

Jane was wearing an irritated expression, probably mad that other people were telling her how to manage her own child. Beard just looked thankful that said child wasn’t currently screaming. They both looked red and puffy around the mouth. Roy was pretty sure that they’d been making another fucking gremlin, and to his surprise, was insanely jealous.

Fuck, he was falling hard. It scared him how intensely sure he was that Splits was the one.

He had to get out. It was too much, being around his team, his family.

“Are you ready to go?” he questioned, more harshly than he’d meant to.

She shrugged. “Yeah, we can go. Is your knee bothering you?”

“Something like that. Beard, you were gone for two hours, not one, so I’m expecting two months of training reports.”

Coach Beard was nothing if not fair. As he took his daughter from Splits, he nodded stoically. “Fine. You held up your end.”

“Well said.”

Roy pulled out his girlfriend’s chair and turned for the exit. He’d wanted to sneak out, but the whole team saw them leaving and called out goodbyes. Sam, of course, thanked them for coming. Jamie, less predictably, shouted, “Good night, Kents!”

In his peripheral, the manager could see Splits was stifling a smile and waiting for his reaction. Roy didn’t correct Jamie, only flipped him off without turning around. He ushered his girl out of Ola’s to the Beast, then turned on one of his playlists. He texted his father as she drove them home.

Me: Need to talk. Call tomorrow?

Dad: About fucking time. Your mother’s upset you haven’t told us.

Me: ???

Dad: typing…

After a moment, his father sent a link to a post on The Sun’s social media. It was a photo, sniped through the window of the restaurant, of him in profile holding Queenie and kissing Splits’ hand as she played with the little girl’s hair. They’d been caught, but he fought down the anger rising in his throat. He typed out one last message.

Me: It’s new, but she’s fucking amazing. Do you still have Nan’s stuff?

With that, he closed his texts and pocketed his phone. He reached over for Splits’ hand, resting on the center console while she waited for the light to change, and took it.

It was missing a vital piece of jewelry. He needed to fix that.

Tag list: @preciousbabypeter @harry-bowie-mercury @amieinghigh @onceuponaoneshot @chewymoustachio @my-neurodivergent-world

#roy kent bowled over #roy kent #roy kent x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfiction #mutual pining #slowish burn #reader is a bowler #because I was a bowler #hence the terrible pun title #my writing #no editing we die like men

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