#they are sappy slightly drunk idiots in love in this

[thef1diary]

A Buzzing Date | P. Gasly

Summary: it's Valentine's Day and Pierre takes you out on a date, but he also gives you a little gift to make the night more enjoyable-mainly for him.

Warnings: 18+, use of a vibrator, kind of public, orgasm denial/delay, Pierre loves to tease, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, slight choking, idiots in love

Pairing: pierre x fem!reader

Word count: 4.1k

It's Valentine's Day and this year, you have a boyfriend to celebrate it with. This is your first Valentine's Day together, considering you met him in March of last year.

You could say that you're a sappy romantic person because of the gift you've given him today. You thought it through, and started preparing for it months ago. A jar was filled with paper hearts, that you created yourself after searching up videos on how to make origami paper hearts. Before you turned the strips of paper into the shape you wanted, you wrote a reason why you loved Pierre on it.

There were a hundred hearts in the jar. It's safe to say that Pierre wanted to open them all at once when you gave it to him, but you convinced him otherwise. But he did open one after negotiations.

You waited for his reaction, and when he laughed after reading it, you were slightly confused because you didn't remember a reason you wrote that was something funny. Well, you would remember it if you weren't drinking wine while writing the reasons. "Is that so? I'm honoured, ma belle" he said and turned the paper around to show you.

The paper read, "you're beyond amazing in bed and I love your dick"

Your cheeks turned red in embarrassment, out of all the hearts he could've chosen, it had to be that one. "Does it make a difference if I say that I was drunk when I wrote that?" You asked as he embraced you, placing his head in the crook of your neck. "Drunk words are sober thoughts. There must be some truth to it?" He mumbled, placing a light kiss on your neck.

"Maybe but I expected this moment to be romantic."

"Oh but it is, romantic in a sexy way. I love this so much, baby, thank you." He lifted his head and claimed your lips with his to expression his gratitude. Before the kiss could turn into something more heated, you parted away from him.

"I have to get dressed because you're taking me out on a date, remember?" You told him, but instead of a frown that you'd normally get, he agreed with you. "Of course. That reminds me, I have a gift for you." He walked away while you stood there in confusion.

He quickly returned with a gift bag in hand, "it's not as romantic as yours, but I hope you like it." You looked inside the bag and taking out the contents.

It was a dress. A beautiful backless wine red coloured long dress with a high slit on one side. You remembered this one very well, it was a dress you looked at when you two were in Milan a month ago, but didn't end up buying. "Pierre" you said as you held up the dress in front of you, then making eye contact with him. "You remembered." You briefly kissed him on the lips.

"There's something else in the bag, ma chérie" he told you, and you looked in the bag once again. There was a box of some sort, all wrapped up. You could tell that he put in the effort of wrapping the gift.

Unwrapping it, you couldn't tell what it was until you opened the box. Then, when you saw it, your eyes widened. It was a vibrator.

You looked at Pierre who had a growing smirk on his face, and raised his eyebrows in question to know your opinion. "Very thoughtful, baby. Is this for the nights that I'm alone?" You teased the idea of using this device without Pierre.

"Not really. I get to control it with my phone" he stepped closer towards you, placing his hands on your hips. He brought his mouth closer to your ear and whispered, "wear the dress and put this in you for our date tonight." He instructed, and you almost moaned at the thought of it. The excitement was clear in your eyes, and he smiled at you. "You want to?" He still asked you if you were comfortable with his idea or not and you nodded eagerly.

Then, while you took a shower, Pierre was getting dressed. Then, you asked for some privacy when you were getting ready, not because you were uncomfortable in his presence, it was because you knew if you took out the toy again, both of you would end up in bed instead of the restaurant.

Pierre was on his phone when you were on your way down the stairs, but the sound of your heels made him snap his head up to look at you. He imagined you in that dress before he bought it, but that image was long forgotten as soon as he saw you in that dress. He looked at you, from the top to bottom, taking his time. Then he whistled which made you laugh at his antics.

While he looked at you, you took the time to check him out too. He wore a suit, the white dress shirt contrasting his tanned skin. He left a couple buttons undone, letting you see a hint of his bare chest, and the chain that proudly hung around his neck.

He held his hand out for you bringing you closer and placing his hands on your hips, "words cannot do justice to how beautiful you look." He commented which made you blush profusely. Your own hands travelled up to the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. "I'm supposed to be the sappy romantic." You spoke but he could only focus on the way your lips moved, coated with lipstick that was the same shade of your dress.

He pulled you closer, so now your bodies were touching, "is my other gift in use too?" He asked as his hands trailed down your back until it was resting on your ass. You nodded, "yes it is."

You were very aware of the vibrator that was in your pussy and also resting perfectly against your clit. "Good girl" he pecked your lips once before holding your hand and leading you outside.

During the car ride, Pierre tested the new device and based on your reactions to the lowest setting, he knew that tonight would be enjoyable. You were already turned on before you were even at the restaurant so when he turned it off after a moment, you pouted. "Don't pout, that was just the beginning." He kissed your cheek briefly then turned back to focus on driving.

Pierre made reservations beforehand, and he held your hand as you two were led to your table. As you were reading the menu, you almost jolted when you felt the vibrations again. Eyeing Pierre, you saw how his cheeky smirk was back but he didn't look at you, he was just reading his menu.

This time, the vibrations didn't turn off, he kept it on. Even if it was at the lowest setting, you could feel yourself getting hotter because it was pressing against your clit as you were seated. Now, you were squirming in your seat.

A few moments later, a waiter had introduced themself and asked for your order. Pierre was acting casual, as if he wasn't holding the control of your vibrator in his hand. "And what about you, ma chérie?" Pierre asked you after he placed his order, even the waiter was looking at you in expectation.

Just as you opened your mouth to speak, you felt the intensity of the vibrations increase, making you grab on to the edge of the table to compose yourself. You looked at the menu to avoid eye contact with the waiter, and also to buy some time to find the right words. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, finally muttering out your choice of food for tonight.

The waiter didn't notice your squirming or if he did, he didn't say anything. Politely nodding, he walked away. In an instant, you glared at Pierre, "why did I agree to this?" You asked to no one in particular.

"Because you love me. And you are enjoying this as much as I am, don't lie."

"I-" you interrupted yourself with a low moan that escaped your mouth. Pierre's eyes darkened, "quiet. You don't want the others to hear do you?" He asked but all you could do was focus on the pleasure. "Or maybe you do. You want them to know that there's a vibrator in your pussy right now, in the middle of a dinner date." He spoke, and to others it might seem like he was just making normal conversation but only you knew of the filth he was saying. You couldn't help but moan at his words. He knew very well how much his words affected you.

"Pierre" you muttered his name, but didn't know what you wanted to ask, didn't know if you wanted him to turn it off or make you cum in public.

He fiddled with the settings on the app, increasing the intensity again. You cursed, and he smiled in satisfaction. You were almost sweating now, and the grip on the table turned your knuckles white. You happened to catch the attention of the people sitting on the next table, a woman was concerned. "excuse me, are you okay? You seem a little pale."

You looked at her and gave her your best nod, and Pierre filled a glass of water for you, "here, maybe this will help" he said, knowing well that it wouldn't help. She still looked at you in concern and you knew you had to speak to her, "not feeling too great but I'll be okay."

She nodded and returned to her own conversation with the person in front of her, not looking at you again. Pierre took your hands in his, "it's not enough to make you cum is it?" He asked but he already knew the answer. You shook your head, silently pleading to make you cum. "Work for it." He stated.

Soon, the waiter arrived with food, and you hoped that it would distract you from the vibrations on your sensitive clit. It didn't work. Throughout the dinner, he would play with the intensity, notching it up and down constantly, almost making you choke on the food.

"I thought you're supposed to be nice" you told him once he turned the vibrator off right when you were about to cum. "I never said I would be." He replied, and you knew that this was the time to take control, well as best as you can. "But Pierre, my love, I've been so good to you. I can't wait to go home and show you just how much I love your cock." You reiterated the note he opened earlier.

"I'm sure you will, but we have time for that. Unless you want to skip dessert?"

"Please, take me home." You couldn't help but beg. You've understood that he wouldn't let you cum right now, so might as well go home.

He asked for the bill once you were done eating, listening to you and skipping dessert. But, what you didn't expect was the vibrator setting to be turned up to the max, making you tremble in pleasure as the waiter was standing right by your table. Pierre took his sweet time to take his card out of his wallet, and deciding on a tip.

You were waiting for him to stop the buzzing and ruin another orgasm that was building up but that never happened. Before you could prepare yourself, you were sent over the edge. You couldn't stop the moan that escaped your mouth, but at least you were glad that the waiter was walking away and didn't witness that.

You took deep breaths to compose yourself but it didn't help that the buzzing remained on, even after you orgasmed. You were sensitive, but you wanted more. Because of the build up all this time, you weren't satisfied with one orgasm. You looked at Pierre who was standing up and holding out a hand for you. In his other hand, he held his phone and lessened the intensity, which annoyed you as much as it helped you compose yourself.

You took his hand, and helped yourself up. You legs shaking immediately making you lean against him. "I hope you're not tired, because that was just the beginning. Plus I do have to reward you for being so good." He kissed your forehead and decided to turn the vibrator off. He wasn't that mean.

He chuckled when you rolled your eyes at him, but a smile quickly made its way on your face too, because you enjoyed that as much as he did.

The car ride was brutal. Pierre didn't let up on playing with the controls on his phone, making you squirm around in the seat. You threatened him that next time, as pay back, you will suck him off while he drives. But that didn't really work because he wasn't opposed to it. However, you knew that if you actually did, he would not be as cocky as he is now.

Once you finally reached home, Pierre was quick to walk over to your side and open the door for you. You got out but your legs were shaking, making Pierre chuckle. You glared at him, but it didn't last long because he carried you to the front door.

Once you two were inside, you made your way to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water for your sudden dry throat. Pierre follows you closely, watching as your bare leg peeks out beneath your dress due to the high slit.

He leans against the other side of the counter, watching your throat bob as you gulp down the cold water. You're staring at him with an intense look in your eyes and he questions it. "What's wrong, ma chérie?" He asks as if he isn't the cause of the wetness between your legs.

You turned around to place the empty glass in the sink when you felt his presence right behind you. You felt his hot breath against your neck as he placed his hands on your waist.

Pierre was brushing his fingers up and down your dress as if to feel the soft material. "You like your gift?" He asked, turning you around in his grasp. You nodded, not being able to formulate words that would suffice.

"Why so quiet now? I thought you were going to show me how much you love my cock when we got home." He restated your words from the restaurant.

This caused your cheeks to redden. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling his lean body underneath his shirt. "Off." You instructed after finding your words.

He obliged, taking off his shirt and throwing it somewhere across the room. You placed your lips on his, savouring the taste of the wine he enjoyed with dinner.

His hands were searching for the zipper on the side of your dress since it was backless. Once he did, he instantly unzipped it, parting from you to watch how the dress easily slipped off your body.

He groaned at the sight. You decided to wear one of your new lingerie sets, because it matched perfectly with the dress he gifted. The lace barely covered anything, a flimsy thin material. One thing you didn't think about before wearing this set, was how soaked you'd be. The panties were damp, stuck to your skin and your wetness was evident.

You placed your lips on his collarbone, equally sucking and kissing. You made your way down his body, lowering yourself to you knees.

You paused, looking up at him while biting your lip. He was quick to release your lip, pulling it down using his thumb. You were planning on staying true to your words, unbuttoning his pants but he had other ideas. "I changed my mind. Come up here and let me take care of you"

He held your hands and placed them on his shoulder as his hands caressed your soft skin. "You look so pretty. So ready to be fucked, right?" He spoke, causing a moan to escape your mouth.

He placed a brief kiss on your lips before stepping away from you. "Do a twirl, let me see all of you" he instructed, and you stood still for a moment before registering his words. Turning around as he wanted, you showed yourself off to him.

"Oh baby, this set is amazing, can't wait to take it off you." He pulled the waistband of your panties outwards just to release it and snap it back.

You brought your hands up to his hair while his were resting against your ass. "You know something," you began, "I thought of you when I bought them."

"Yeah?" A smirk adorned his face. "You knew I'd love it, you know me so well." He pressed his lips against yours and you deepened it. You were a sucker for his kisses.

Between the kisses, he lifted you up and placed you on the countertop. He wrapped your legs around him while he further deepened the kiss, then pressing his lips across your neck.

Once he was satisfied, he moved away but you held him close by using your legs. He laid you flat on the countertop, pressing small, barely there kisses down your body.

Then, he got to the waistband of your panties and saw the wet patch on the cloth. His eyes instantly darkened when he saw the protruding shape of the vibrator held in place by your panties. "Fuck baby this is so hot. You want me to turn it on again?" He looked at you intensely, and just for a moment you were about to give in.

You shook your head, "I want you, Pierre." You reached out for him but he was just out of your grasp.

He didn't reply, instead he removed your panties which made the cool air hit your pussy, making you gasp. You were now just realizing how wet you were, and Pierre was on a similar train of thought.

He looked at the vibrator sitting right on your clit and inside your hole. Bringing his hand down, he spread your pussy. You brought your line of sight to his face and saw how his tongue was slightly poking out between his lips.

"Pierre" you moaned his name, wanting him to do something. And he did. He took out the vibrator from your pussy, and replaced it with his fingers. Moving at a faster pace. You couldn't help stop the sounds that left your mouth. You would try to be quiet, but you knew that he loved your noises.

Slowing down, he took his fingers back out and you were about to complain before you realized what he was doing. He spread your wetness around further, brought his face closer to your pussy and dropped a string of spit from his mouth right on your clit.

You arched your back, feeling it slide down before his fingers spread it around. Removing his fingers from your pussy, he brought it closer to your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. You complied, doing as you were told.

"We skipped out on dessert, but I think this makes up for it no?" He smirked, asking a rhetorical question.

You released his fingers from your mouth and he lifted your thighs to place on his shoulder. You could feel his hot breath on your pussy and he also blew some air which made you squirm.

He liked the reactions he was getting out of you, knowing that you were a lot more sensitive due to your first orgasm with the vibrator. Pierre presses a few filthy open-mouthed kisses along your folds before licking a bold stripe from your hole to your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

The stark contrast from his hot mouth on your pussy and the cool sensation from the marble made you a moaning mess. You were already close to the edge when he fingered you, and now eating you out like it was his last meal, you didn't know if you handle it any longer.

Your eyes were closed due to the overwhelming pleasure that you didn't realize his fingers were also probing at your opening. Your eyes snap open at the intrusion that you needed. Pierre knew every inch of your body that you didn't have to tell him what you needed.

Pierre moved his fingers at a hard and fast pace, causing you to hear the squelching sounds mixed with your moans sends you over the edge as you begged him for a release. "Pierre, please, right there, oh fuck"

Continuing to drag his fingers inside of you as you ride out your climax, pressing chaste kisses to your clit. Then you felt too empty when he removed his fingers. You watched him as he sucked his fingers clean and smirking at your blissed out state. "Better than any dessert from outside." He commented, making you blush.

His praise also caused the heat to grow between your legs as if you didn't just have your second orgasm for the night. Looking at the noticeable bulge in his pants, you brought the heels of your feet to the edge of the countertop, spreading your legs wider in invitation.

Biting your lip, you locked eyes with him who already began removing his pants. "Merde, you got me so hard" he groaned as he palmed himself over his boxers. You slipped your hand between your legs and circled your clit as you watched Pierre. "Look at you, so desperate. I just made you cum and you still want more."

Your eyes rolled back at his words, loving the filth coming out of his mouth. "Please fuck me Pierre" you begged. "Don't have to ask twice," he comments while his eyes are transfixed on your hand playing with your pussy. His boxer briefs are gone in a second and his hard cock is the only thing you focus on as everything else becomes blurry.

God, you were obsessed with him.

He stepped closer, you could feel his tip resting against the opening of your pussy but he wouldn't move further. Then, he's sliding in, and it knocks the breath out of you. You're at a loss of words when his cock is filling you up perfectly.

While he's thrusting, he brought a hand to wrap around your throat. Pierre groans at the sight of your eyes rolling back again, "I won't last long, you're so perfect. So tight, taking all of me so good" he was muttering under his breath.

"I love your cock, Pierre" you groaned out loud and he chuckled, "I know baby, I know."

He began picking up the speed of his thrusts, going at a brutal pace. You brought yourself up on your elbows so you could kiss him, swallowing each other's moans.

You parted when his tip hits that sweet spot, making your third orgasm of the night rip through you. Your pussy was squeezing him tightly, making him lose control. Your sensitive walls were still being put through in pleasurable torture as he kept thrusting in you to reach his orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum" he stated, "give it to me baby, please, I want it so bad." You cried out in pleasure, tears sliding down your face.

That seemed to do it for him, groaning as he thrusted once more before stilling. He comes with a deep groan and you can feel his cum filling you up.

You are thoroughly exhausted, noticing that Pierre seemed to be tired out too. The only sounds were of both of you breathing deeply. He pulled out of you, making you hiss at the emptiness.

He helped you sit up and wrapped his hands around your waist. Pierre placed a kiss on your forehead then peppered kisses all over your face, making you chuckle.

"We need to use that more often." He said, talking about the vibrator. You pretended to think before saying, "but you're such a tease."

"And you love that." He pecked your lips.

"Yes I do. And I love you"

"More than my cock?" He laughed and you playfully hit his chest.

[just-j-really]

"I just don't get it," Hob says, for the fifth or sixth or possibly twentieth time that night, glancing over the rim of his cup at Will, who's sitting on the other side of the room, cuddling with his soulmate in an armchair that's really too small for the both of them. "Why everyone's so hung up on soulmates."

It's all anyone's been able to talk about tonight- and sure, that's fair, it is Will and Ann's engagement party, but Hob has overheard the phrases 'oh you're so lucky you found each other so young' and 'why did you wait this long?' far too many times for one night. Will and Ann met as toddlers; they've never had another option and Hob cannot fathom why everyone seems to think that's a good thing.

Case in point, even his little group of Unmatched friends react to his statement with varying degrees of exasperation.

Hob is just sober enough to be aware he should probably shut up, and drunk enough that he keeps talking anyway. "I mean, I've seen 'soulmates'," he says. "My parents were soulmates, both my siblings met theirs, half of my friends are paired off by now. It's not like I don't know how soulmates work. Soulmates are..." he takes a moment, gathers his thoughts, and even though he's not entirely sure what he's about to say, the moment the word leaves his mouth he knows it's exactly right, "Stupid."

His friends laugh uncomfortably. "You're an idiot," Andrew says, not unkindly.

But Hob's on a roll now, an argument that's been simmering in his chest for years spilling out of him, the exhilaration of speaking making the words come easily. "You literally don't have to stay with your soulmate. No one has to! Everyone just goes along with it because everybody else does. But not me. I've made up my mind," he says, setting his cup down and straightening his shoulders. He's been bullshitting a bit but he means this, knows down to his bones that this is something worth staking his life on. "I'm going to meet someone perfect who isn't my soulmate, and I'll marry them instead."

He feels like he should do something solemn to mark this occasion. Stand up on a table, maybe.

Instead, most of his friends laugh at him again. "Hobs, that's the literal definition of your soulmate. Someone who's perfect for you," Gwen points out. The laughter is teasing, and Gwen's tone is more reassuring than anything else, but still, Hob finds himself frustrated.

"But there's so much more out there. So many people to fall in love with," he insists. "Shouldn't I know who's perfect for me better than anyone?"

And his friends tease him for somehow being sappily romantic in his opposition to sappy romance, and he laughs along with them and points out that his perfect person will be more understanding than them, for sure. And he's genuinely a bit hurt, but Gwen bumps his shoulder apologetically and he thinks that destiny has nothing on these friends he's made on purpose, who know him well enough for these unspoken gestures. And there's movement in the corner of his eye.

Hob looks up.

The most gorgeous man alive is standing in front of him. He's tall- probably taller than Hob, even- pale and willowy, with a mess of soft-looking black hair. His eyes are a deep blue Hob didn't think existed in real life until this moment. He looks like the slightly magical prince in a fairy tale got loose in the real world and decided to become a goth. He's perfect.

"Did I hear you say," the man asks, his voice soft and deep all at once, resonant in a way that Hob's never heard before, "you have no intention of meeting your soulmate?"

Not if he's you, Hob thinks, I take it all back if he's you.

Despite what many of his friends will argue, he is capable of not voicing every thought that comes into his head, if only under extreme circumstances, so he offers the stranger his best grin and says, "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"You'll need to tell me how that works out, then," the man replies.

"Don't encourage him!" Andrew calls from the other side of their little cluster.

The man- flinches, just a little. Hob probably wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been staring at him, but Hob's universe just gained a new center, so he is and he does.

"Hey," he says, catching the man's eyes, "Don't mind him, he's just boring. You really want to know how it goes, finding someone who isn't my soulmate?"

"I do," the man says, seriously, like he genuinely thinks Hob's quest is worth his full attention. It leaves Hob feeling warm, almost giddy.

"Perfect," Hob says, and then, because he's never known when to quit, "Let me give you my number, so I can update you?"

The man nods, a teasing little smirk appearing on his face, as though he and Hob already know each other perfectly, and this is a shared, ancient joke between the two of them. His fingers brush Hob's as he passes over his phone.

Nothing happens. There's no spark, no splash of color on Hob's skin marking where this stranger's fingers first dragged over his.

They are, definitively, not soulmates.

And Hob knows for certain that he's right.

[Part Two]

[sixxrock666]

Can I please ask for more Mötley Crüe with a platonic reader, it was surprisingly really wholesome but yet really creative and energetic, please and thank you, love <33

thank u sweets<33 of course here u go more mötley crüe shenanigans :))

Part 2

can you tell I’m a little Tommy biased (￣ω￣;)

• you would love to braid their hair, especially Tommys, since he was always eager to get it done. You usually had some problems regarding Nikki and Mick but at the end of the day they would let you anyways

• since Nikki and Tommy get into a lot of arguments just pissing each other off all of the time, when a physical fight would break out you would always have to be the one to pull them apart. When they would finally settle down you’d scold them, and they would just sit there like sad lil puppies

• late night talks with Mick on your bed while you are painting yours and his nails, his strictly black. He would always grumble about it but would secretly enjoy it

• i feel like Tommy would get slightly possessive over u sometimes, he just wants to spend time with you in peace without others interfering, jealous boy :o

• clingy Tommy when drunk>>> hed be all over you ,Nikki, Vince and Mick, would lean on your shoulder and even fall asleep in your lap sometimes

• Vince would adore taking care of you, just random acts of service here and there like bringing you a glass of water and some pills and setting them on your nightstand whenever you’d get drunk

• you’d borrow their t-shirts all the time

“is that my shirt”

“might be yours Vince, might be Nikkis”

• once in a while you’ll all gang up on mick and tease him or some shit till he ends up chasing you all and cursing the shit out of you

• impulsively getting matching tattoos in the middle of the night, drunk with the boys

• inside jokes with Mick>>>> you’d randomly say something only you two would get and you’d just start laughing like two crazy idiots. The rest of the boys would just sit there and stare confused

• the only time they would eat homemade food is if you’d cook because they would be helpless, they would either burn the whole kitchen down or make so much mess while trying to make eggs and bacon -_-

They loved it when u did cook for them tho-Tommy’s for sure licking that plate up

• alright hear me out, movie night but it’s pure chaos

☆ you’d take forever trying to pick out a movie, you would end up arguing and pulling and chasing until one of you eventually won. Not everyone would be happy about it and would just complain throughout the whole movie

☆“ you can’t be serious this is so fucking predictable”

“ Vince shut it and watch the movie”

“ but look i fucking told you he’s gonna-“

Would get a pillow in the face so he’d shut up

☆if you’d watch some romantic shit Vince and Tommy would end up crying openly over it, and then you’d catch Nikki and make fun of him, until he would literally tackle you on the couch so you’d shut up

☆Tommys picking some sappy romance, a cartoon or some sex related shit, there’s no in between

• the boys can never say no when you do the puppy eyes except Mick of course, he’s a little devil

• you’d help them die their hair, but it would just end up with you all messing around and in the end the hair dye would be everywhere except where it’s supposed to be-the hair

Part 3

☆彡𐬾𐮚✧✯⁂☆

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have the fifth part to our college/university rec list. If you'd like to check out the first several parts, you can find part one here, part two here, part three here, and part four here. Please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) I Can't Get You Off My Mind (I Still Crave It) | Mature | 4,531 words

"You're an idiot," It was Lya's time to interrupt. "Why would you want another guy when you already have yours? Don't you ever get tired of those silly games?" "It is different!," Louis defended himself again, mouth open. "How come it is different?," Lya asked again. "I love Harry," it was easy like breathing. "He's the love of my life, I'm going to marry him," Louis looked around, until his eyes looked with Harry's, glossy and vibrant. "That guy was just a hook."

2) Azaleas Where Your Face Should Be | Explicit | 5,626 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry and Louis having some sexy time and some sappy time and sometimes both at the same time.

3) Spaces Between Us, Hold All Our Secrets | Not Rated | 6,441 words

The thing about Harry is, is that he is the most wonderful guy you´ll ever meet. He is kind, compliments you on things you are usually insecure about, which shows he truly pays attention to who you are as a person. And he befriends everyone. Except Louis.

4) Cut Me Up, Kiss Me Harder | Mature | 9,431 words

A group of friends, a slightly drunk alternate version of spin the bottle, and the universe having a wicked sense of humour may just be enough to bring one bratty omega and a tired-of-said-omega’s-bullshit alpha closer than they’ve ever been. In more ways than one.

5) Hook You Up (Charm You Down) | Explicit | 9,600 words

Swiftly, Harry raises his right hand to his head. Bringing two ringed fingers up, he touches the brown hat sitting on his head, tipping it with a raise of eyebrows in the direction of Peter Pan. He punctuates the whole action with his signature smirk. The reaction is almost immediate. Like Harry hoped it’d be. Though he expected the grin he received, he can’t say he directly expected the man to come forward his way. But he surely isn’t going to complain. “Captain! Fancy seeing you there,” Peter Pan says when he reaches Harry’s space. And wow. Seeing it from up close, Niall was right. Face of an angel, totally Harry’s type and all that. 

6) The One Who Stays And The One Leaving You | Mature | 10,315 words

Fuck. He had just slept with none other than Harry Styles.

7) Behind Closed Doors | Explicit | 10,332 words

“You should ask that whoever he’s currently fucking.” Liam’s eyes grow wide. “No.” His tone is unbelieving, just like Louis’ would’ve been if you had told him what turn today would take. “Yes.” “How do you know?” Louis’ room mate’s eyes barely leave him as he tries to untie his shoes without looking. “Went to his dorm earlier, found a sock on his door handle. He’s such an arsehole.”

8) Sunshine On My Mind | Explicit | 12,704 words

Seeing Harry as an actual professor will never get old to Louis as his eyes soak him in. The casual attire of a student-teacher is gone and now Harry’s got on a button up under a sweater vest that both have stripes on it because someone with a face like Harry’s can actually pull that off. His beige trousers ride up high on his waist, loose and wide around the legs like he’s been preferring lately. By the time Louis’ done taking all of him in, he’s got a smile stretched wide across his face, cheekbones feeling like they’re about to burst just from happiness alone. “Hello Professor Styles."

9) You Know It Ain’t Fiction, Just a Natural Fact | Not Rated | 13,312 words

Harry is the golden boy of the college football's team, Louis is their professors' golden student and they definitely don't have anything in common. Falling in love would be dumb.

10) Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice | Mature | 13,487 words

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.” Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing. “You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

11) Wake Me Up With It | Mature | 13,699 words

“Oh god, I sound like a rapist now.” Louis gave a soft, sympathetic giggle, shifting on top of him, and that was when he noticed he was hard, as well. “No, Haz. You fucking me while I'm still asleep and waking up to a dick in my arse? That sounds fucking hot.” “I’d, like, discuss it before. Like get consent for it before.” “Obviously,” Louis rolled his eyes, staring up at Harry with a sad expression. “I’d let you do that to me, Harry.” “What?” Harry blinked, sure the world was ending by those words he never thought he’d ever hear in his life. The words sounded muffled to him, like he was swimming.

12) I Couldn't Face A Life Without Your Lights | Mature | 15,549 words

Louis and Harry are college students who haven't been the same in the past two years.

13) Give My Heart A Holiday | Not Rated | 17,222 words

AU where Louis and someone else both like Harry but Harry obviously likes Louis and is oblivious to the other person with scenes like Harry’s sitting with his legs on the coffee table and the other person wants to walk across and Harry doesn’t see them, so they have to say excuse me, but when Louis wants to cross he doesn’t even have to say anything because Harry sits up, puts his feet down, and gives his undivided attention to Louis.

14) There’s A Hole In My Heart (And It’s Got Your Name On It) | Explicit | 19,508 words

The four scream from the stands as the team huddles together, pulling their helmets and gloves off and slapping each other's backs as they celebrate their win. Louis had stolen a pom-pom from Mal earlier and he shakes it vigorously. His breath hitches when Harry looks up and their eyes meet. The hockey player smirks at him but looks away quickly. “Did he just-” “No.” Louis quickly stops Jade from even finishing that sentence because he’s about to lose his damn mind

15) Kiss And Tell (Me A Lie) | Explicit | 19,827 words

It takes three friends, a video game, and an arse tattoo for Harry to realize the truth.

16) Lovin’ Online | Not Rated | 27,627 words

“Huh?” Harry asks, muffled by his forearm. He feels lips on his face and the tip of Louis’ nose against his ear when Louis repeats himself. Brain sluggish with sleep, it takes a moment for him to process the words, but his eyes snap open, and he’s met with darkness. He's got to be dreaming, there’s no way Louis just said what he thinks he said. “What did you say?” He can see the vague shrug from Louis before he turns around to toss the towel with the pile of their discarded clothes. “Did you say…” he starts slowly, automatically slinging his arm around Louis as he gets back into bed and throws the blankets over them. “That we should make a sex tape?” Louis asks rather nonchalantly for such a big proposition. He cuddles easily into the warm body and confirms, “Yes, I did.”

17) Science & Faith | Mature | 36,442 words

Louis Tomlinson is a science major who's dedicated his life to proving that love doesn't actually exist. Harry's the philosophy major determined to prove him wrong.

18) You Could Be The One That I Love | Explicit | 39,797 words

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Niall waved off. “Now, let’s talk man to man to man. You two have had a crush on each other since uni. Now’s your chance to finally get something going. I could see the sparks and connection and attraction back then and I can still see it now, God damn it! You’re just denying fate at this point.” He looked impassioned, his blue eyes wide and imploring. Louis shook his head again and chuckled. “You can’t just snap your finger and expect us to, like, get it on.” “I’m not,” he reasoned. “I’m merely telling you to do something about it.”

19) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,562 words

Louis hadn’t forgotten about Harry as much as he tried. It wasn’t due to the strange nature of their meeting, more so the magnetic pull he somehow had on Louis. He couldn’t fathom why this complete stranger stayed in his mind as much as he tried to stop it. Any time his phone sounded his heart skipped a beat at the thought of it possibly being Harry. In all honesty, it made him feel sort of pathetic. Gay guy falls for straight guy, what a cliche he had become.

20) Nothing Quite Hits Like You | Explicit | 81,098 words

For many centuries, Inferis Lamia had been a college strictly for higher magic alphas, where most rulers of the Underworld had reached their Divine Enlightenment to become the alphas they were now. However, that year, for the first time since it was founded many centuries ago, the academy would welcome omegas from the Underworld, giving them the same opportunities alphas had, the same education.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

forced proximity with Hyunjin. Like you meet in a bar and her flirts (smacks your arse). You get pissed and then have to share a dorm with him and gain feelings. Please. 🥺👉👈

Thinking Of All The Possibilities

requested?: yes pairing(s): hwang hyunjin x afab!reader genre: spicy/fluffy/angsty (idk😭😭), university au warning(s): ass smacking (hyunjin's very poor attempt at flirting), mentions of alcohol and drinking, hyunjin being a cocky mf, two literal idiots in love, alcohol consumption (be careful please, this is not promoting any behaviors), mentions of a cheating ex, hyunjin being a literal housewife, i think thats about it:) summary: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 word count: 1.3k a/n: hiya, this was honestly quite hard for me to write because i am only good at writing smut and or sappy romance shit, so i made a few tweeks if you dont mind:). feel absolutely free to request a part two if you want, because i know this is short and shit, and im so so sorry. i may also ignore requests for a while just so i can post things i wanna post, but i will be doing requests again, i promise! i love you all and thank you so so very much for all of the love and support. make sure to eat and drink something, i love you all, mwah!

you had recently broken up with your ex-boyfriend, and you were heartbroken to say the least, so, naturally, you went to your local bar to get drunk with some random stranger and possibly fuck with them. you felt like you honestly didn’t care where it went from there, but you needed something to make you feel less bad then you were now.

you were in your third year of university, and since your boyfriend had broken up with you, he moved out of your dorm which you shared. you had put a notice in to get a new roommate so you weren’t all by yourself in your dorm every night. you were notified you didn’t get to choose your new dorm mate, and you had to deal with what you were given.

you were around two drinks in, and about to get your third. you were leaning against the bar, and you felt a hand slap your ass. you spun around to see the source of the hand on your ass, and that’s when you saw him. the schools notorious geek. hwang hyunjin. and by the looks of things, he was drunk. very drunk.

“hey girl” he slurs, attempting to put on a flirtatious voice. you grimaced slightly, but you needed someone to fuck, so you went with it.

“can i get a water as well, please” you ask the bartender, you felt like you needed to take care of him since he was drunk.

plus, he had taken care of you once before, so you wanted to return the favour.

after you had eventually convinced him to drink the water, and somewhat sobered him up, you took him back to your dorm. nothing happened between the two of you, you just put him to bed, since you had a spare.

•❦︎•

the next morning you woke up slightly hungover, but not as bad as the boy that woke up confused as hell on the other side of your dorm room.

“how the hell did i get here?” hyunjin asks, his hair messed up from sleep. he was sat up, his legs were slightly spread. he raked a hand through his bed head. even though you had a few drinks last night, but not so much that you couldn’t remember.

“you remember the time i got shit faced and you helped sober me up and bring me back to my dorm?” you ask, quietly as though not to make his headache worse. you sat up and looked over at him.

“yeah? what’s that got to do with anything?” he asks, letting the hand that was combing through his hair drop down to his thigh.

“you got shit faced last night, and i didn’t remember where your dorm was, so…” you use your hands to gesture to your dorm room “i brought you here instead” you smiled.

it took a couple seconds for it to register in his head, but he slowly nodded and started to stand up, you stood up too.

“we didn’t…?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you.

“oh hell no, I’m not that shitty of a person, hyunjin” you quickly deny, he says nothing but nods again, grabbing his shoes “do you want a paracetamol or something? to, y’know, get rid of the headache?” you ask softly, trying to look him in the eyes. he shook his head.

that was the last you saw of him for the day, or, so you thought.

•❦︎•

to be completely honest, you had forgotten about putting the request in for another dorm mate, so you didn’t expect the knock on your door after all of your classes for the day was over, and you were studying on your bed.

you made your way over to the door, dodging stray shoes and clothes from this morning when you ripped out your whole wardrobe just to find a specific hoodie you wanted to wear that day. the shock made its way to your face extremely quickly when you saw hyunjin at your dorm again, but you put on a polite smile and asked:

“what’re you doing here? i thought you would’ve had enough of me for one day” you joked, he smiled softly.

hyunjin’s hair was neater than this morning, it had definitely been brushed. his glasses sat on the bridge of his nose, making him look a lot more cute than usual. funny, you never noticed he wore glasses. they were clear, which went well with his light brown beanie, and checked flannel he was wearing. it was a brown and white flannel, which complimented the black jeans he was wearing along with them. he was wearing black and white vans aswell.

“well don’t you look… nice” he tries to compliment, seeing you in your oversized tee with leggings and a messy bun.

“now is not the time to be criticising my appearance when you had practically thrown up on yourself last night” you tease, he silences, “you didn’t answer my question” you add.

“oh, well, they said you wanted a dorm mate, and i had already put a request through a few weeks ago to get a roommate, so, here i am” he says with a bright smile.

“oh” you say quietly.

“you don’t wanna be roommates?” he asks, his smile faltering, you were quick to answer.

“oh, god no, its not that, its just… the room is a bit of  a mess at the moment because of… situations”

“do you wanna talk about it?”

you pause for a few moments, biting your lip before opening the door fully. hyunjin took a few seconds to inspect the room before looking back at you.

“i can help you clean while you tell me about it?” he offers, you nod softly, clambering back onto your bed while you point to the unmade bed from this morning that hyunjin had slept in. he lays his bags on the bed before getting to work.  

you finish venting to hyunjin about your shitty ex boyfriend, and all the times he cheated on you, but you still gave him multiple chances because you were a forgiving person like that. he nodded along with you, putting clean clothes away and putting the dirty ones into a pile. he was done surprisingly quick compared to how long it would’ve taken you to do it.

“that was quick” you say, as hyunjin stands up and begins unpacking his bags, he nods in response.

“i’m just a fast worker i guess” he smiles at you, “i’ll dp the laundry tomorrow if you wanna strip your bed”

“oh, you don’t have to do that” you start, but he just gives you a knowing look.

“please, i want to. besides, you look pretty comfortable there studying” he smirks across the room, “don’t see you doing a lot of that” he teases.

“oh very funny” you smile, “i just had the random motivation to pick myself back up after… y’know” he nods in response and grabs his laptop.

“well, maybe i could keep you company while you study” he smiles.

•❦︎•

a few hours later, you were both full blown studying, but you found yourself glancing up every once and a while to look at the man across from you. a few times he caught you and smirked before you quickly looked back down, busying yourself with whatever you were studying.

little did you know, hyunjin was doing the same, although, he was a lot more discreet with it and didn’t really get caught.

“y’know, you’re not really as bad as people make you out to be” he speaks up after a while of silence, you look up at him and smile “i really used to think you were a bitch before i actually got to know you, you being all popular and shit”

“you’re not to bad yourself” you smile, he smiles back, and that’s when you felt it.

that warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach. heck, you barely knew the guy and you were already beginning to fall in love with him. not to mention the fact you had almost just broken up with your ex. but it was undeniable, you were in love with hwang hyunjin and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

[sp00kymulderr]

San Valentín

Part 1

Series masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x afab Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: 18+, PWP, office sex, oral sex, light angst, valentines day.

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: This is an old fic from a couple years back, reposting after going on a mad deleting spree of my fics last year

You hadn’t planned to end up backed up against the wall in the small, dimly lit supply closet during your afternoon coffee break.

This definitely wasn’t the place you expected to find yourself gasping against bruising kisses from your handsome and persuasive fellow DEA agent.

But here you are.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, gorgeous” Javier utters between kisses, languid and teasing.

“You could’ve bought me flowers” you huff in response, pulling away from him and rolling your eyes.

“But isn’t this more exciting?” he pushes close again.

“Javier Peña, you’ve placed me too close to scissors and staple guns to not be bringing me chocolates and still thinking you can kiss me” you raise your eyebrows at him, but then he grins and you laugh back, pressing your hands against his chest before you kiss again. You couldn’t stop if you tried.

He knows you don’t mean it; your arrangement has never been a flowers and chocolates kind of thing. No candlelit dinners, no grand gestures, nothing sappy and sweet for the two of you. Nothing that involves too much feeling. Both of your lives are too messy for storybook romance.

Instead, it’s this. It’s hedonistic rendezvous in off-the-beaten-track Bogotá bars - drunk and sweaty, dancing so close it’s vulgar. Rushed trysts in between assignments, meeting at your place at 3am after two weeks without seeing each other. Never once saying “I missed you”.

And that’s fine, absolutely fine. Both too busy and involved in your work to be really in it, but the thrill of it keeps adrenaline buzzing through your bodies and the lust never dies out. Sure, it’s complicated in ways you don’t know how to even say yet, but it could be a lot worse if you got really involved. In this line of work, there’s such a chance of heartbreak it only makes sense to take the least painful option.

Javier brings you back to reality with the tickle of his facial hair against your exposed skin and then the nip of teeth on your shoulder. You let your head fall back, groaning when he does the same thing on your neck but harder, sure to leave a mark.

“Careful” you warn, but there’s no threat in your voice at all. In fact it makes you warmer, makes you clench your thighs together as heat starts to dance in your centre.

“Oh you love it, I know you do” Javi reminds you, knowing how you like to admire them when you think he’s not looking.

“Mmmhm” is about all you can manage, feeling his fingers skirting under the hem of your blouse. His skin on yours is wonderful, there’s no two ways about it, his slightly rough touch makes you melt in to him with no control. You always want more of that contact. Drunk on his touch and his lips and his eyes. Everything about the man makes you weak at the knees, and he knows just how to use that to his advantage.

By now, your blouse is unbuttoned revealing your soft skin. Curve of your breasts capturing his interest as he kisses a trail over each and then down between them. You let out a breathy half-laugh half-mewl when his moustache hair tickles against your skin again.

“Javi, we should probably get back to work soon” you tell him breathily, convincing absolutely no one as you half heartedly making an attempt to move about an inch towards the door. His hand of your stomach holds you in place against the wall.

“It’s only been a few minutes, it’s fine” he brushes you off, at the same time unbuttoning your pants. “Fuckin’ wish you’d worn a skirt today. Take those off” he commands, nonchalant, and you oblige without thought. The atmosphere shifts in an instant from playful to something fiery, the heat of it buring you with how badly you want this.

This is an idiot idea, you think even as you step out of the trousers and leave the garment crumpled on the floor. If only you could resist him. If only he could stop being such a fucking turn on.

He drops to his knees, hands rubbing up the backs of your thighs. From there Javier can see exactly what he’s doing to you, the thin fabric of your underwear soaked.

“Now-” he starts, staring up at you, venerating. He runs those hands up over the curve of your ass to your hips, hooking his fingers under the fabric of the lacy panties. You brace slightly against the wall and open your legs to him. He doesn’t have to ask.

“-don’t forget to be very,” stopping to press his lips against the inside of your right thigh.

“very” next stopping to kiss against your left thigh

“quiet” he smirks, pulling down your underwear which you step out of without hesitation.

Fuck.

The man wastes no time after that, enjoying the way you gasp so beautifully as he uses his fingers to part you and then runs his tongue along your sex, ending with a teasing flick against your already swollen clit.

“Christ, you taste so sweet” he groans against you, causing a shiver up your spine.

Your chest heaves, gulping for air while he explores you with his tongue. The way he focuses all attention on this task, devout urgency with which he tastes you, it’s purposeful and his intention is to get you off as quickly and thoroughly as possible. He pushes a finger inside of you, then soon after another, as his tongue presses and circles around your sensitive nub.

You whimper his name, but too loud. That earns you a slap on the ass with his free hand. Of course that only makes you even more needy for him, sending sparks through you. Never mind your moans, the whole embassy can probably hear the thump of your heart against your chest right now.

He looks up at you as he worships you from his knees, your eyes catching each other until you have to press them closed tight, when he makes you see stars. The way he alternates between sucking against your clit between his lips and using his tongue is enough that you feel yourself already on the verge.

“Javi!” you gasp, quiet as you can “You’re so...so good to me. You’re so fucking good. Pl-please, keep doing that”, babbling because at least it stops the whines that otherwise threaten to escape you.

The hands that were pressed flat against the wall behind you now come to run through his hair, grasping tighter than he anticipates. When you begin to rock your hips, to help get you to where you need to be, he moans in appreciation against you and you have to bite down to stop yourself reacting too loudly. He removes his fingers, using his mouth and his lips and his tongue to get you there as you practically ride his face, chasing your rapture.

“Fuck..fuck..Javi don’t you dare stop. I’m- oh my god” you shudder as you fall off the edge and dive head-first in to complete bliss. He drives you through it, still working his mouth on you until the orgasm shakes you and he has to almost hold you up while you convulse with pleasure. You have to hold a hand to your mouth to stop from shouting, it’s so powerful.

When you come out of your stupor and straighten up on shaky legs, Javier is a sight to behold. Lips and chin slick with you, hair out of control on his head. Eyes half-lidded as he stares back with a crooked smile, almost as dazed as you. After he helps you with your clothes and you try to fix his hair you pull him up to you, kissing him and sighing in satisfaction.

“That was better than flowers, right?” he asks, tone playful “Or do I need to keep going?” rutting against you, showing just what he means.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Peña” you laugh, resting your hands on his hips “But you know I can’t keep quiet through that”

Javier nods, memories stirred and he shifts uncomfortably in his tight jeans.

“We’ll have to work on that another time, then. You’d better go first, ok?” he smooths your hair and straightens your blouse for you.

“I could come over tonight? Return the favour”

“Not tonight. I can’t….meeting someone” he looks away, not wanting to meet your eyes when he says it.

Oh. Of course he is, another ‘informant’.

Suddenly, you’re both snapped back to the harsh reality of this world you live in. Your heart sinks, it’s all fine and good when you’re letting lust and need take control but despite it all stupid, stupid you still lets yourself get ambushed by feelings you thought you had buried deep.

“Right” You nod, trying not to let your face show the unrealistic hurt you feel. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Javi”

It’s sadistic, this life. It really is. But you both know you’ll let yourselves get caught in it every time.

Because the thing is, you’ll take the storm of pain in all it’s fucked up glory if it means you can spend even one minute feeling as alive, as free, as wanted as you do in the calm that comes before.

Happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

[bie-lovers]

Rosé

Title: Rosé

Relationship: Dan/Phil

Rating: T

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: Some nights they will pull out a bottle of wine and load up a game on the TV.

a/n: did i write a drunk dnp fic a couple of weeks ago? yes. did i just write another one. yes. does this say something about me? probably. 

so. dan’s bday happened and phil tweeted his fave pictures of dan from his camera roll, including one of a rather obviously tipsy dan and a nice almost empty bottle of rosé in the background. well, clearly this is what happened. hope you enjoy!

Excerpt: “You’re the worst person in the world,” Phil whinges, and Dan hears the unmistakable sound of Phil driving off the race track on the screen. He grins and lightly bites down on Phil’s shoulder. 

“I am,” he says. Phil exits the game and connects the second controller. They sit up and Phil hands it to him but he won’t let go, so Dan looks at him and cocks an eyebrow.

“Do your worst, Howell,” Phil says and turns his attention back on the telly.

“Game on, Lester.”

[Read on AO3] 

“Yes, yes, yes! Oh my God!” Phil’s shriek is high pitched and probably way too loud considering the time. Dan doesn’t really care because he’s ten seconds away from actually losing to Phil, and to be fair, he’s probably screaming even louder.

Phil drives over the finish line then, and Dan briefly considers if they should send an apology gift basket to their neighbours tomorrow, but then Phil’s suddenly lunging at him. He ends up on his back on the sofa with Phil on top of him, knees on either side of Dan’s hips and fingers playing with the zip on his grey hoodie.

“I won!” Phil whoops. Dan rolls his eyes.

“Barely. Also, I’m handicapped, it doesn’t count.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am. Having half a bottle of rosé in my blood is a handicap in Mario. Read the rules.”

“You know, I do believe drunk driving is illegal,” Phil says and a grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he boops Dan’s nose with his pinky. “And I’m pretty sure the other half of that wine is in my system, mister. So we’re even, and I won. Fair and square, can’t beat the master.” And then Phil leans down and touches his lips to Dan’s, featherlight.

Dan grips Phil’s face as he tries to sit up again.

“No. Stay,” he mumbles against his lips, and he can feel Phil smile and give in, opening his mouth.

He tastes like the rosé they have been drinking; alcohol and a hint of red berries, and Dan wonders absentmindedly if he could get drunk just like this, just on Phil. Phil, who moves from Dan’s mouth to his jaw and then his neck, and Dan concludes with a small whimper that yes, he definitely can.

Phil sighs and slides his hand through Dan’s curls, getting a loose grip and pulling just slightly. His breath is hot and wet and his lips tickle over Dan’s ear as he whispers, “What’s my prize?”

“Prize?” He can’t really focus, not when Phil is this close, this intoxicating.

“I won,” Phil breathes, “Don’t I get a prize for my efforts?” He kisses Dan’s jaw and finally returns home to his lips. If Dan could, he would push pause on the universe so he could live this moment out forever. He wants to stretch it out and slow it down, this inconsequential moment of slow, slightly clumsy touching, drunken flirting, and lazy, sloppy kisses just because they can, because they have each other and they know it.

“What do you want?” he whispers, voice hoarse. He takes Phil’s face in his hands again, looks at him. His hair is a mess, strands sticking up in all directions, and Dan cards a hand through it without really thinking. A red flush is covering his pale skin, his lips are wet and pink. Dan lets his thumb touch gently.

“Hmm.” Phil’s eyes slowly travel down to Dan’s lips, where they stay as he says, “You,” his voice low and deep and setting fire to Dan’s heart. He resists the impulse to say you have me and settles for pulling Phil back down to convey his thoughts through his kisses. They’re too complex for words, anyway.

***

“I want revenge.”

They’re lying on the sofa, and Phil is playing against some people online, back pressed close to Dan’s chest, their legs tangled together like their hearts are.

Phil snorts. “Forget it, Howell. I won.”

Dan lets his hand slide slowly down Phil’s chest, sneaking it up under his shirt.

“Not gonna work,” Phil says. Dan places an open mouthed kiss on his neck and lets his thumb brush over a nipple. He can feel a shiver run through Phil’s body and he can’t help pressing closer as he deliberately plays with the hardening nubs under his fingertips. He’s leaving a trail of wet kisses on Phil’s neck and then he whispers, “All or nothing.”

“You’re the worst person in the world,” Phil whinges, and Dan hears the unmistakable sound of Phil driving off the race track on the screen. He grins and lightly bites down on Phil’s shoulder.

“I am,” he says. Phil exits the game and connects the second controller. They sit up and Phil hands it to him but he won’t let go, so Dan looks at him and cocks an eyebrow.

“Do your worst, Howell,” Phil says and turns his attention back on the telly.

“Game on, Lester.”

***

Phil wins. Again.

“Pretty sure I’ve earned my prize now.”

“Fine, whatever. I give up.” Dan waves his hands around, almost hitting Phil in the face. At some point during the game, they ended up standing right in front of the TV, and Dan blames it on the blurry edges to his vision.

“What, did I hear that correctly? You’re giving up?” Phil’s glee is almost palpable, snuggling around Dan, tugging on him. Dan smiles and thinks that letting Phil win was definitely worth it.

“What do you want, you barbarian?” He asks. And if he’s learned anything from being around Phil for almost ten years it’s that when he cracks out this smirk, Dan is for it.

“I want a dance.”

A laugh sputters out of Dan.

“What?”

Phil’s eyes are shining and slightly red and Dan’s pretty sure his own are, too. He’s standing in front of Dan with a hand reached out towards him, palm open.

“Can I have this dance with you, Mr. Howell?”

Dan could cry. Because this man standing before him is so imperfectly perfect and he’s his and Dan is drunk, they both are, it’s the middle of the night and he’s asking Dan to dance with him to the tune of the Mario Kart title menu still glowing on the TV.

“You’re an idiot,” he says, and he hears the affection he has for Phil nestle in his tone. He grabs Phil’s hand and Phil pulls him close.

It’s bizarre, honestly. They keep falling into bouts of uncontrollable laughter, Phil steps on Dan’s toes and Dan almost knocks them over once. The music is not made for slow dancing, it’s too upbeat and zany, and they’re not made for slow dancing either, they’re too awkward and clumsy, but they make do, because it’s not about how it looks. Dan couldn’t care less of what this would look like to an outsider. He can feel Phil’s hands resting on his hips and Phil’s breath land on his mouth and, sometimes, when they step on each other’s toes, their noses bump together and they laugh again.

Phil’s looking at him like Dan’s the answer to the mystery of the universe, like he holds every secret and Phil’s dying to learn.

He moves his hands up to cup Phil’s face and he bumps their noses together gently.

Phil says, “I love you,” and Dan kisses him.

He can feel Phil’s lips curl into a smirk under his, and he pulls back just far enough to be able to see his face.

“And I won,” Phil whispers, and Dan smacks his shoulder and says, “I hate you.”

Phil just grins and kisses Dan again. “No, you don’t.”

It takes an embarrassing amount of willpower for Dan to pull back so they can breathe.

“I do actually. I want a divorce,” he says.

Phil raises an eyebrow. “We’re not married.”

“Technicalities.” Dan lets his chin rest on Phil’s shoulder and tightens his grip around his waist. The world is asleep around them, the music is still filling the air with the kooky melody, and there’s a pleasant buzz humming under Dan’s skin. “At least pour me another glass of wine.”

“Ask nicely. I did not raise you to be rude,” Phil says, mock offended.

Dan lets go of Phil and gives him a pointed look. “Please, Philip Lester, love of my sad life, will you pour me another glass of this sweet rosé?”

A small smile is playing in the corners of Phil’s mouth, and Dan wants to kiss it, taste it, to see if it’s as sweet as it looks. So he does.

“Actually, on second thought, I think you’ve had enough,” Phil says against Dan’s lips, and Dan pulls back just slightly.

“Don’t you love me?”

“No. Did I say that to you? I’m sorry.”

“Rude. I take back everything.” Dan pokes Phil’s arm. “Pass me the bottle then, old man.”

Phil lifts an eyebrow.

“Ugh. Please.”

[augustinewrites]

45 with suna pls 🙏🙏

45. "we shouldn't do this" but they do so anyway

there’s a random reality show playing when someone knocks on your hotel room door.

you ignore it, at first. it’s 11pm, an hour past the team’s scheduled lights out. you’re already comfy, having showered off a weekend of back to back matches and bundled under the comforters. whoever needs you can grab an ice pack and wait till morning.

but whoever it is knocks again, a little more insistently this time. rolling out of bed to grab your hoodie before padding over to peer through the peephole. you roll your eyes when you see who it is, and rin’s leaning against the doorframe, grinning down at you as you open the door. his cheeks are flushed, shirt untucked, and his hair slightly unkempt. the faint scent of booze tells your he’s been drinking, yet his gaze remains steady and fixed on you.

your heart flutters, and you turn away, hoping to hide the blush creeping up your neck.

“i knew you’d still be up.”

“i was about to head to bed, actually.”

rin scoffs at that. “doubt that. mind if i come in?”

he’s not really asking for permission, brushing past you before you can reply, flicking on the lamp and kicking off his shoes before making himself comfortable at the foot of your bed.

“what are you doing here, rin?” you ask, shutting the door behind him before joining him on the bed.

“you mean you weren’t expecting me?” he teases. “don’t play coy, babe, i think we’re past that.”

it wasn’t entirely unusual for him to come to your room during out of town games. though usually he came under the guise of minor medical attention. like stiffness in his neck or a problem with his shoulder.

what never changed is that he always stayed after, lingering for as long as he could before lights out. you’re not sure why he did that, but you weren’t exactly complaining either. you enjoyed talking to him. the two of you talked about real shit, going back and forth for hours about politics and feminism and all the other isms you couldn’t name at the moment.

“well, you seem medically fine, if not slightly intoxicated,” you tell him.

rin sighs deeply, dramatically, before flopping back into your bed to stare at the ceiling. “well i’m not.”

so you lay next to him, the two of you rolling over so you’re face to face.

“cause see, there’s this girl.”

that was…not what you were expecting. but rin’s always been a chatty drunk. “oh?”

“yeah,” he nods. “but i don’t think she knows how much i like her.”

“do i know her?” you ask, heart aching as you file through a list of names in your head, shifting away from him. “if you like her, you should just tell her. no use in keeping it a—”

“it’s you, idiot,” he huffs, catching your wrist. it takes your brain a moment to catch up as he gently presses his lips to your palm. “i’m trying to tell you i like you.”

the relief that washes over you is instant. “you like me?”

“with all my heart,” he grins, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close.

you can’t help but wrinkle your nose. “that’s so sappy.”

“ah, you love it,” he whispers, gaze flicking to your lips.

“rin,” you warn. “we shouldn’t. motoya’s going to wonder where you are if you’re not back in your room—”

he kisses you to shut you up, and you relent, giggling against his lips and gently kissing him back.

[ja3hwa]

3am Thoughts | Mingi

Word count: 1k

Genre: super fluffy like tooth rotten sappy, with a sprinkle of angst [woops]

Type: Mingi x Gn!Reader

Warnings: Pinning, alcohol, mentions of being drunk, kissing, we little bit of heartache.

Synopsis: Late night baking leads to popping open wine and spilling secrets you thought you could keep safe.

Prompt: "I've always loved you, idiot..."

Trope: Bestfriends To Lovers

Romantic Tropes Mini-Series -> Other Members <-

It was like any average Tuesday. Well if average meant drinking the whole pantry leaving only the cheapest wine in the back. Now that you both were royally buzzed, flour, sugar and all sorts covered the countertop. Whose idea was it, to cook at 3am with your roommate and Best Friend Mingi.

“Ah No!! You missed the bowel.” You yelp as Mingi wobbles to crack the eggs into the mixing bowl. You quickly turn the tap on to drain the forgotten shell and yolk. Mingi hops to the fridge to grab the milk, chugging some of the wine straight out of the bottle.

“MINGI! Pour a glass!! stop chugging like a frat boy.” You slur, jumping behind him trying to snatch the bottle off him but his board back stops you. You take one more jump but you land wrong, slipping from your sock hitting a wet patch on the ground, most likely some wine that was spilled without your knowledge.

“Woah.” He grabs you quickly, dropping the bottle in the process. Wrapping his arm around your waist, his face inches from yours as noses graze each other. The bottle lands on the floor with a thump luckily not breaking, and since Mingi chugged the rest of the wine inside nothing spilled out other than a few small drops.

“Hi…” He whispered, his breath hitting your lips. You hold onto him tighter, your fingers digging into the fabric of his clothes. You bit your lip looking at him deep in the eyes. You always had a crush on him, but never spoke up about it, worried he might freak and never talking to you. So through nights of crying alone while you wish he would be yours, you came to the realization that he was your best friend and nothing more.

“Hi…” You smiled back as he helped you up. Letting you go, you fixed your shirt before going back to mixing the mixture for the cupcakes. He picked up the bottle, wiping away the mess he spilled so no one would slip again.

“Now all we need is to put the mixture into the pan.” Your voice became quieter as Mingi stepped closer and closer until his chest was against yours. He grabs your chin and tilts his head while staring at you. You gulp shaking slightly at his touch, trying to avoid his eye contact.

“You have something on your face.” He spoke soft, maybe it was the alcohol or it was the fact he had given up on leaving little hints. Go big or go home, right? Before you could reply, he dipped his finger into the batter, quickly smudging the uncooked chocolate mixture on your lips.

“It’s right there.” He looked dead in your eyes, trying to find any sense of uncomfortableness, but all he saw was your big doe eyes staring up at him with all the love in the world. His lips caught yours, letting his tongue graze along your bottom lip, licking the sweet mixture off. You deepened the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers snaking into the ends of his hair. A tear broke, feeling a sense of happiness and guilt. Was he just kissing you because you both were drunk or was it, love? Love that you wished, and craved for.

“Mingi…” You pulled away first making him chase your lips, but you turned to face the counter before he could plant another one.

“Did we just—kiss? yes, yes we did.” He interrupted almost sounding smug like he just won a gold medal. Blush formed on your cheeks, feeling hot. The alcohol is definitely kicking in now.

“Do you love me?” You blurted out, pouring the batter while he suddenly stood stunned at your question, it was his turn now blush. Rubbing the back of his neck, he let out a soft chuckle.

“I’ve always loved you, idiot...” He only called you that when he was embarrassed, trying to divert things onto you instead. You finished pouring the batter, placing the tray inside the oven, you finally turn to face him.

“You know what I mean.” You looked at your feet, feeling your heartache. Was this the moment your friendship ends? He immediately went to protect mode, walking over in a rush to close the gap between you two.

“y/n you know..argh what I mean is..shit…” His head was spinning, it was 4 in the morning and you both were off your rockers, he couldn’t think straight, stumbling on his words. But the only thing he knew what to say was something he feared if he ever were to speak it aloud.

“I love you, more than you know. I’ve loved you the moment we shared that ice cream while sitting on top of the jungle gym in prep. I loved you the moment we ditched prom together cause our dates were terrible and ate Kfc on the beach in our formal attire. I love every moment, every day and every second I’m with you. Drunk or not, I’ll scream it aloud for you. I love you.” His rambling brought you to tears, emotions filling your senses. It was an overload. An overload of joy, happiness, contentment. He did have the same feelings for you, your fear was nothing more than a childish nightmare. He hugged you seeing the tears falling, rubbing small circles into your back.

“We only shared that ice cream cause you dropped yours…” You snuggled into his chest, sniffling a little bit.

“That’s all you go out of my whole deceleration of love.” He laughed pulling away to lean on the counter, you laughed with him, hitting his chest lightly.

“Hey it’s true though! You were trying to climb the slide when I kept telling you it was a bad idea but no, you did it anyway.” You laugh wiping a stray tear from your eye. The laughter slowly died down and you see him smiling at you like a puppy.

“I did take in your whole speech, idiot,” you smirk, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Uh okay so does this mean I get to call you my partner now,” he asks snaking his arm around your waist. You pretend to think for a moment, playing your finger on your lip before you smile.

“I guess, as long as I can call you my boyfriend.” you giggle, making in punch the air with a sly ‘yes’ in happiness.

“God, you’re an idiot…” You laugh at his actions.

“Yes but I’m your idiot.”

-

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[lukecastellanshandholder]

The Titan Army at a party, because my friends and I had a party Saturday night and so of course I have to imagine that scenario with some of my favorite characters 🥰💜

Silena: She's the mixologist. She's the one in charge of making drinks for everyone. She doesn't drink much at the party and she mainly is the one making sure that no one gets hurt and that everyone has a good time.

Ethan: He's the one that doesn't drink and is put in charge of especially helping Silena in looking after both Alabaster and Chris. He does help his friends and makes sure they're taken care of but the whole time he's questioning why he cares about these idiots. And when it's going to be his turn to get drunk.

Chris: He's one of the emotional drunks. He gets so drunk that he's having trouble standing without help. He's crying as he tells everyone how much he loves all of them and how special they are to him. Then in the next second he's screaming out the lyrics of the song that's playing over the speakers and giggling as he hangs off of Ethan and Alabaster.

Alabaster: He's the other emotional drunk but he doesn't really show as much as Chris. Him and Chris are sharing one brain cell and it's pinging off between the both of them. Alabaster is the one walking up to Chris, when he's crying and being sappy, grabbing his face and telling him, "you are amazing and we love you too, but for the love of all the gods shut up! Pull yourself together!" All right before he also starts crying and locks himself in the bathroom for like 20 minutes. He will then come out of the bathroom and start partying again as if nothing has happened (especially after either Silena or Ethan go in with him to try and comfort him/ calm him down).

Luke: He is the one who drinks just as much as Alabaster and Chris. He goes drink for drink with them, shot for shot, all in the attempts to have fun and maybe finally get drunk (since he had only ever been tipsy before). However, he ends up realizing something... He has an extremely high tolerance to alcohol. He ends up only getting slightly tipsy but that only really lasts for a few hours before he basically sobers up again. He just helps with the others when needed but, he mainly just sits on the couch and tries to just vibe while this meme plays in his head on loop:

Luke also remembers everything that happens that night along with Silena and Ethan. Alabaster and Chris kept saying that they would remember every single thing about the party, but they remember barely anything the next day. ��💜

[emmyhem]

always (l.r.h) part two

a/n: hi everybody! here is always part two, this is actually one of my favorite writings and one that I was looking forward to writing and posting a lot. it’s another angsty piece but with a sappy happy ending :) also it’s unedited but what else is new. i’ll probably post again tomorrow either a bestfriend!calum piece or a roomate!luke piece that are titled in my masterlist. i hope everyone enjoys and is having a wonderful day. i definitely am after that livestream today. (i would say that i didn’t cry because of how good and happy they all looked but that would be a lie) anyway i hope you enjoy and as always my messages are always open to chat or whatever and feedback and comments are always appreciated. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: it’s time for you decide whether or not luke’s mistake is worth losing the love of your life. 

warning(s): mentions of alcohol, cursing, angst (but with a happy ending), self doubt, insecurity, mention of throwing up 

word count: 2.9k

pt. 1

The longer you watched the window the more you were convinced mother nature was taunting you. The rain droplets that cascaded down the glass mirroring the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you left Luke speechless in the driveway. It had to be for your benefit, I mean it was Los Angeles. California was in a drought for god’s sake. 

Despite the fact that nature was mocking you, you couldn’t dare pull your eyes away. The alternative was to face the endless voicemails waiting for you on your phone that glowed dimly beside you. You knew you would have to hear them eventually but right now you knew that even a breath, let alone full sentences from Luke would break you in every sense of the word. You feared the sound almost as much as the content behind it.

 You weren’t ready to be okay, you needed to wallow in your pain for a bit longer. As bad as that sounds you knew it was the only way you could convince yourself to let him back in, to forgive him. It was also the only way you could forgive yourself. Your body needed to feel how tortured you were without him, how much you needed his affection, his love, and him. Not his money. 

Part of you knew deep down that Luke didn’t mean what he said, the part that awakened the butterflies that had taken permanent residence in your stomach since he had entered your life. The part that caused all your senses to align when Luke kissed you the night you finally understood what it meant to love someone with everything you have. The same part that was clawing at your heart right now as your mind replayed the look of pure devastation that was painted on Luke’s pretty features as you drove away from him. That part was itching for you to run to him, to cuddle into his embrace and say “I forgive you. I’ll never leave you again. Love me?” 

But, it was the other part of you that was causing the problems right now, the part that snuck up on you each time you felt secure in yourself and tore it all down in seconds. The part that told you there was no way you were good enough for your boyfriend when you stared at your reflection in the mirror for even a second too long. The part that Luke was typically the one to silence when it overwhelmed you in a crowded room, with just a tender kiss to the forehead, or squeeze of your hand. The same part that constantly craved for Luke to be proud of you the way you were of him in anything he decided to pursue. That part was completely shattered last week when, whether intentionally or not he showed you that not only was he not proud, but also felt burdened by your lack of brilliance. 

“Y/n,” your friend called, breaking you from your self-loathing thoughts as she approached your brittle body, enveloped in every single fuzzy blanket you could get your hands on. 

“Hi.” you croaked, pulling your stinging eyes from where they had settled on a particularly large rain droplet that had stolen your interest as you wondered how much more water it could withstand before it burst from its flawless embodiment and shattered to the sill below. You wondered the same about Luke, how much more of your insecurity and emotional baggage would it take for him to burst. How much more of your mediocrity could he compensate for before you began to strip him of his excellence? 

“Have you talked to him yet?” she inquired, eyes going soft as she looked at you with sympathy. 

“No.” you groaned, pulling yourself up. “Do I have to?” 

She shook her head, dismissing you. “You know that you’re welcome here as long as you want, but anyone could tell that you’re completely miserable without him, even if he is being an epic prick.” 

You sniffled and wrapped your arms around your best friend.

“Am I an idiot for wanting to forgive him?” you spoke into her hair. 

She returned the embrace and settled next to you in the bed, “I think if he really is sorry then you’re incredibly strong for it. And you’re never an idiot, that would be your blonde haired beau.” 

You laughed softly at her innocent dig, the giggle catching slightly in your throat as it had only been releasing pathetic pleas, and broken sobs for the past few days. 

Y/f/n handed you your phone, the photo of Luke and Petunia sitting by the pool being almost completely covered by all the missed call notifications that had taken over your lock screen. 

“I think you should at least hear what he has to say babe, for your sake if not for his.” 

You let out a heavy sigh and accepted the phone, wrapping your favorite blanket around your shoulders and dragging your feet to the bathroom for some privacy. 

You took a seat in the empty bathtub throwing the blanket across your body. You reasoned it was the perfect place to listen to the messages because as soon as Luke’s voice flooded the room you would be completely submerged in him and you didn’t trust your legs to hold you up. 

You clicked the most recent voicemail, time stamped from 1:28 am last night. As you selected the speaker option you allowed your eyes to fall closed and without noticing or trying you held your breath. 

“Y/n,” 

Only one word in you could immediately tell two things without a trace of doubt. One, he’d been crying, and two he was drunk. If you had to guess you would say tequila, it had always been his favorite and he had a bad habit of nursing his wounds in the liquor cabinet. It shattered your heart to think of him broken, and vulnerable and as he continued to speak you found yourself wrapping your arms around your body for comfort. 

“I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his voice cut off as a sob played through your phone. You released a matching one while squeezing  your eyes tighter, a shaky hand bringing your phone closer as if it would bring him as well. 

As he continued, your mind began to paint a vivid picture. You saw him sitting on the kitchen floor, an old ratty sweatshirt struggling to keep him warm, damp tear stains spoiling the sleeves. There was a half empty bottle to his side and the tip of his nose was red as it peeked out from the hood. You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the image that felt like your personal nightmare.

“I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby.” he spoke through gasps of breath that caused worry to spread across your body.

You paused the message as a dull ache creeped up from the bottom of your stomach and to your throat which was tightening by the second. You tossed your phone onto the blanket which you had kicked off as your body heated up, and sprung out of the tub landing firmly in front of the toilet. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail in your hand you hunched over and retched into the bowl. Y/f/n burst through the door as you gagged and coughed repeatedly, she took your hair from you and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you tried to focus your breathing through your nose. This wasn’t the first time you had cried yourself into throwing up during your stay so she knew what to do to calm you down and settle your stomach. 

As you finished the glass of water she had poured from the sink while you brushed your teeth she held your car keys out to you. 

“Please go see him. I can’t see you like this anymore.” 

You nodded accepting the keys reluctantly and made your way to your car.

 Once outside you noted that the rain had started coming down harder, it seemed fitting as your situation reached its climax. By the time you got into the car your hair was wet and stringy, dripping onto Luke’s shirt that you had been wearing since the night you left. You quickly tied it back and drove away, hoping the sound of the rain could calm your nerves before you got back to your house. 

When you got there the sun was setting and the rain was still falling steadily, you grabbed a jacket from the back seat and held it over your head as you ran to the house. The jacket didn’t give you much protection from the water and you were soaked by the time you reached the door. Taking one big breath, in through your nose, and out from your mouth as you had been repeating the whole ride there, you raised your quivering hand and knocked three times. 

Expecting it to take a few minutes for him to reach the door you were shocked when it swung open in just a few seconds. Your heart sunk as you took in Luke’s appearance, although you were sure you looked just as bad if not worse. Deep dark circles sat beneath his bloodshot eyes, his stubble had grown in a bit longer than he typically liked it and his lips were chapped and bitten down. Guilt panged in your chest, how awful of a girlfriend were you to let it get to this point? The thought made you question if he would even want you here. 

Apparently the time apart had completely fucked with your ability to read Luke’s face because even frozen in shock, his eyes began to fade into that special soft color of blue they only got to around you. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his chest and just as it had been since the moment you left the only word running through his head was “y/n.” 

He didn’t see your messy, wet hair or the ratty tshirt that swallowed your figure. He didn’t see your eyes puffy from crying or your bitten down nails that you were bringing back up to your mouth in that moment as your nerves got the best of you. All he saw was y/n. His y/n. You came home to him and as far as he was concerned you looked like an angel. Warm, sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect. 

Your eyes ran over his face anxiously, waiting for him to say something, or invite you in, or even slam the door in your face. Anything. After a minute of silence you gathered up the courage to speak first. 

“Sorry I never called you bac-'' your words were knocked from your mouth when Luke took a step forward and wrapped you up into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. Your limbs fit together perfectly, and the second your bodies met you felt recharged, as if everything was in place once again. And Luke felt like for the first time in a week he could breathe. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he sighed as you pressed your nose into his chest deeply breathing in the smell you could only describe as home. “Thank you for coming back to me, I don’t work without you.” 

From your position in his arms you could see the mess splayed on the floor behind him. It was just as you had pictured it earlier, a thin blanket and scratchy throw pillow were scattered on the floor in front of the sink, a bottle lying on it’s side just next to them. Guilt inched up your spine when your eyes made contact with a framed picture of the two of you on top of the blanket. 

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed into his chest, your hands clawing at the material of his sweatshirt. 

He pulled back quickly, keeping his hands on either sides of your waist, “No baby, why’re you sorry. This is all my fault, I was awful. You...you’re perfect.” he pressed as you shook your head in distress, unable to stop your tears. 

“N-no I stayed away for so long, even when I knew I wa-wanted to forgive you. I was embarrassed and...and selfish.” you struggled to speak over your tears while Luke looked down at you sad and confused. 

“What’re you talking about, love?” 

You sniffed and dropped your hands from Luke’s chest, “I j-just wanted you to be proud of me.” the end of your sentence was nearly lost in your sobs but Luke understood. And in that moment he regretted going into music instead of engineering, or science, or whatever would’ve helped him to invent  a time machine so he could go back and beat the shit out of whoever or whatever had possessed him last week. 

His hands moved to cup your cheeks, his thumb tracing lightly over your bottom lip. 

“I am proud of you baby.” 

He leaned in slowly, and hesitantly, almost as if he was testing the waters, like this was new. As if he hadn’t kissed you thousands of times before. You looked up at him through your lashes littered with unshed tears and nodded your head slowly. He still had so much left to say, you still had so much left to say but you both had been needing this for as long as you’d lost it. He pressed his lips to yours gently, afraid that even one wrong move and you would decide that you had made the wrong choice in coming back. He wouldn’t survive that, he couldn’t lose you twice. 

As he went to pull away you snaked a hand around the back of his neck pulling him back towards you. This time when your lips collided his body sagged into it, both arms wrapping around your back and lifting you up to the tips of your toes. Your eyes drifted shut and you reveled in the feeling of him pressed up against you like this. When the kiss broke you kept your faces close enough that your noses were touching, and opened your eyes to see Luke’s still closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his forehead to you. 

“You’re what I’m most proud of.” he exhaled, his eyelids still shut lightly. “My greatest achievement is getting you to love me and I can’t believe I almost blew it.” 

You brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek lightly, the feeling of his overgrown stubble foreign to your fingers. 

“It would take a lot more to get rid of me.” you assured. “I think m’too in love with you.” 

He opened his eyes, locking them with your own, and spoke firmly but with a softness that was and would always be reserved for only you. 

“I want to make it clear that you do not in any way leech.” he dragged the last word out, laced in disgust as if it were hard for him to say. “I lucked out. I actually just seem to keep lucking out, my job, my life, and you.” He placed a hand across your jaw and tilted your chin up before continuing. “I completely lucked out with you. I have lots of money, more than I need actually and it makes me feel fucking incredible that I can take care of you. That’s all I wanna do for the rest of my life.” 

Your mouth broke into a smile hearing him verbally commit to a lifetime with you. 

“But, with that being said I know you don’t need me-” 

“I do need you.” you interrupted. 

Luke threw his head back at your words, a toothy grin overtaking his face before he pressed a chaste peck to your forehead. 

“Y’know what? You’re too fucking cute. I meant financially baby, m’trying to apologize here.” 

You nodded for him to continue, struggling to contain your own beaming smile. 

“Anything you decide to do occupationally or otherwise could never, ever let me down. You’re physically incapable of it. I’d be a lucky guy if you let me stick around for it all and I promise to never forget that again. I’m sorry I did in the first place.” he took a deep breath before finishing his rant. “M’only able to give you the world if you let me. Let me?” 

You answered his question by attaching your lips once again, desire and need radiating off of the place where your lips met. As your taste buds reacquainted themselves with Luke’s mouth you wondered how you had gone even a day without him. 

Luke felt like he was flying and he couldn’t wrap his head around how anyone in the world could live without, seeing you, knowing you, and kissing you. He also knew that he would do anything to ensure that he never had to go a day without you for the rest of his life. 

“How long does it take to get an engagement ring sized?” he wondered to himself. 

If he could’ve read your mind he would’ve seen white gowns, tiered cakes, and little blue eyed, curly haired monsters running amuck. 

“I want everything with you, the whole world.” you affirmed when you pulled apart for air. 

“Yea?” he responded. 

You hummed against his lips, “Always.” 

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

IUI - The Way I Love You

bear with me here folks

I know the Idiots are usually soft af. but my lovely spouse/fiance/soon-to-be-fiance and beta @dani-dandelino hit me with an idea and I added a dash handful of angst bc i couldn’t help it

Warnings: feelings of inadequacy, fear of breakup (no actual breakup I promise), miscommunication, drunk af Geralt, past shitty relationships, happy ending tho I promise, there’s tears but they’re happy I swear.

______________________________________

Geralt only ever got sloppy drunk when Jaskier was the DD. It wasn’t necessarily that he didn’t trust anyone else, it was that he didn’t trust his drunk boyfriend not to goad him into something stupid. 

The last time they’d both gotten fucked up outside of their apartment they woke up with three traffic cones and a “Speed Hump” sign in their living room. When they asked Triss what happened she sent them a video of them giggling as they tried to fit the sign into her trunk.

After hanging the sign in their apartment, they decided it may be best to take turns. 

This particular instance, they’d dropped Triss and Yen off and were on their way home, Geralt’s head lolling against the window as he fought to stay awake. 

“I’m not carrying your perky ass upstairs,” Jaskier laughed, snapping his fingers near Geralt’s ear. 

Geralt grumbled but sat up straight and leaned into Jaskier’s outstretched hand, “Radio.”

Affectionately rolling his eyes, Jaskier pulled his hand away and flipped on the radio. Geralt immediately gasped and started singing along off key and slurred. The first time Jaskier heard Geralt scream along to Taylor Swift he’d been shocked, if extremely endeared. 

“BUT I MISS SCREAMIN’ AND FIGHTIN AND KISSIN IN THE RAIN! IT’S TWO AM AND I’M CURSIN’ YOUR NAME! SO IN LOVE THAT WE ACTED INSANE, AND THAT’S THE WAY I LOVED YOUUUUUUUUU!”

Jaskier turned the volume down to a reasonable level when Geralt cranked it so loud his ears might start ringing. He rolled his eyes when Geralt started singing it to him, taking the shortcut home and trying to ignore the little pit forming in his stomach. 

When the song ended Geralt turned the radio down and picked up his hand not gripping the steering wheel, “Jask?”

“Mhm?”

Even in the car, Geralt glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, “I have a secret.”

Fear flared in Jaskier’s chest but he took a deep, calming breath, reminding himself who he was talking to. His boyfriend thought secrets were fun. Mostly because Geralt’s version of a secret was keeping what he made for dinner a surprise until Jaskier got home. He’d even felt guilty not telling Jaskier he was seeing a therapist when they’d started dating. For all his gruff exterior and suspicion, Geralt really was an open book with those he loved and trusted. Jaskier had a very different idea of what secrets in a relationship meant. 

“What’s that, love?” 

Geralt giggled as he traced the edges of a magnolia on the back of Jaskier’s wrist, “That is the way I love you.”

Luckily for Jaskier’s car, they were rolling up to a stop sign. He had time to loose his breath for a moment and fight back the initial feeling of shame and anger with himself before he pulled his hand away and gripped the steering wheel as he punched the gas. 

Through gritted teeth, he said the gentlest thing he could think of, “We don’t kiss in the rain.”

Geralt frowned, almost pouted at him, “I still love you.”

A part of Jaskier wanted to scream at Geralt, another part wanted to pull over and make him walk home, thankfully the loudest part reminded him the idiot was just drunk. He didn’t know what he was saying and he thought he was being sweet. There was also a good possibility he would cry himself to sleep in the passenger seat if Jaskier yelled at him and last time he tried to carry Geralt to bed his back hurt for a week. 

“I love you too,” Jaskier sighed as he pulled into their parking spot. 

He didn’t sleep well that night. Not because his sweaty, smelly, and fidgety boyfriend clung to him in his sleep, but because he couldn’t stop thinking about the ride home. 

Jaskier had lived in relationships like that for most of his adult life. Hell, even in his teens. They were nothing but all consuming passion with no connection to support it and left both parties jaded and lost. When he left his mentor he’d sat in Yen’s chair for hours and hours, until his arm had gone numb, and the only thing he could think was ‘never again’. 

And now Geralt thought he was being cute. The ridiculously meticulous and serious man was only ever sappy when he got drunk and now instead of reveling in it like he’d like, Jaskier was staring at the clock on his nightstand calculating how exhausted he’d be in the morning as the minutes ticked by. 

Turns out, he was at least in the land of the living by the time Geralt shuffled into the kitchen with his hands in his hair and a pained expression. 

“Feel like shit.”

Jaskier hummed in agreement as he sipped his morning tea and shifted in his seat to see better out the window. 

After popping a few anti-inflammatories and nibbling on a cracker before giving up on food, Geralt lumbered up behind Jaskier and draped his arms over his shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“S’nothing. I’m just being… touchy.”

Geralt pressed a light kiss over the hellebore tattoo on Jaskier’s neck, “I doubt it.”

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as Jaskier laid his hand over Geralt’s arm across his chest, “I don’t want to lose this.”

“Why…? What makes you think you would?” Geralt was a little slower on the draw hungover, but he knelt next to Jaskier’s chair and rested a hand on his knee as he waited for a response. He only ever looked so worried when Roach had an abscess and it broke Jaskier’s heart. He didn’t want to say it and ruin everything. 

After a deep breath in, he mumbled out his answer, “Do you really love me like that song?”

“What song?” Geralt breathed, his thumb brushing back and forth over Jaskier’s knee.

“The uh, Way I Loved You one.”

Geralt searched his face for a beat, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening, “Of course I do.”

“Fuck,” Jaskier breathed, biting his lip to keep it from wobbling as he forced all the air from his lungs in the hopes it would do something to stop the tears from falling. When it was clear he would lose the battle he leaned forward with his elbows on the table, hiding his face in his hands.

“You… don’t want me to?” Geralt sounded close to tears himself, but he didn’t take his hand off Jaskier’s thigh. 

“No- yes! No?” Jaskier sniffed and wiped at his face but didn’t lean back to look at Geralt, “I- Geralt I can’t just fill a hollow relationship with lust. We ha- I thought we had more? But if you want the- the fights and the hate fucking- I don’t- Geralt I don’t want that. Not with anyone but not with you. Ne-”

“Hey, hey,” Geralt tugged at Jaskier’s arm, gathering him to his chest when the brunette melted into sobs, “I don’t want that. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I let you think that.” He cradled Jaskier’s head to his shoulder, pressing kisses into his hair between softly spoken apologies and reassurances. They stayed there until Jaskier’s tea went cold and his sobs were closer to little gasps. 

Eventually, Jaskier lifted his head and met Geralt’s eyes, “H-how do you love me?”

Geralt licked his lips, his voice barely above a whisper, “Not- It’s not hollow.”

Jaskier squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to Geralt’s, “Please?”

One of Geralt’s hands came up to cup Jaskier’s cheek as he took a deep breath, “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you… I never wanted to be romantic with anyone until you. You… You make me feel… safe. I’m never bored of you or numb or sick of you. This is the first relationship I’ve had where I bother to fight, Jask. I love you so much it makes me do things I never thought to do and I’m glad and I never want to change anything about us. Never.” 

A shiver ran down Jaskier’s spine as relief flooded his whole body. His throat ached from crying and his shoulders were sore from holding all that tension in a way they hadn’t for years, but he’d never felt so good. Geralt loved him. Him. Not some tumultuous relationship or the sex or the drama of it all. Someone finally loved him for him. 

It hadn’t really hit Jaskier till then. They’d said ‘I love you’, sure, but he hadn’t really believed Geralt, just like he’d stopped believing the string of selfish lovers before him. 

“Thank Mellitelle,” Jaskier laughed, just on this side of hysterical as he tightened his grip around Geralt’s shoulders, “I fucking love how boring we are. And you. Fuck I really really do love you.”

“Even when I smell like my regulars?” Geralt teased, intentionally huffing a little extra and dosing Jaskier in his horrendous hangover morning breath.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose but smiled and kissed him anyway, “Of course.”

“Mhh,” Geralt pulled away for a moment, brushing his thumb over Jaskier’s crows feet in a silent request for him to open his eyes, “Can we go back to bed?”

“The crying does it for you, huh?” Jaskier chuckled, his voice was still weak but his laugh was genuine.

“I’m so dizzy, Jask,” squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head ever so slightly, Geralt plopped back onto his heels. If Jaskier hadn’t witnessed just how much he drank he’d say he was lying, but Jaskier was truly surprised he’d even climbed out of bed this morning.

“Mkay, up. Back to bed then.”

They settled under the blankets and tangled themselves back together. Geralt hummed, closing his eyes and squeezing Jaskier a little tighter.

New, happier tears threatened at the corners of his eyes but he pushed them down, opting to trace the corner of Geralt’s buttercup tattoo peeking out of his shirt, “I love you.”

Geralt took a deep breath in before he sighed out a rumbling, “I know.”

“No, Geralt. Really,” Jaskier laid his hand over the yellow and green ink, “I’ve said these words more times than I can count but I don’t think I ever really understood them until you.”

“Jaski-”

“I love you,” Jaskier’s interruption was far smaller and far more fragile than he had intended. His words just continued to spill out, “You’re steady and calm and I’ve never had that. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like and I’m constantly scared I’m gonna fuck it up…”

Comforting fingers ran through his hair as Geralt murmured his reply, “Me too,” Jaskier just squeezed his shoulder in a bit of solidarity and a bit of selfish comfort, “But I think we’re doing alright…”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” Geralt started, shifting so he was practically engulfing Jaskier, “we both still love each other, and...” his boyfriend pinched him when he trailed off, pretending to fall asleep in a way that always mad Jaskier giggle, “Ow- and you use the hooks by the front door.” 

“I do, don’t I?” Jaskier sniffled, “And you used your words.”

“I’d use all the words for you.”

“All of them?”

Geralt really was drifting away this time, his words coming slowly as his arms relaxed and Jaskier felt their full weight over him, “Not well, but I would...” 

[angsty-omi]

was she just a friend?

hajime iwaizumi x Reader

tw: very slight domestic abuse, insecurity, no happy ending, swearing, suggestive themes, and no editing prior.

when you first started dating hajime, you had accepted the fact that he had a really close girl friend. how could you not? before you guys made it official he made sure his concerns were met with. this should’ve been the first red flag, however, you were blinded by love.

at first, it was subtle. she’d tag along with you guys on your walk home, which you didn’t mind at all. most of the trips, she’d make fun of iwaizumi and reminisce when they were kids. which, in turn, made you laugh. a lot. and usually after she got home, you and iwaizumi could spend the sunset together. his large calloused hand would wrap around yours, and he’d bring your hand up to peck it. your heart grew bigger by the minute.

then, one day after she left, both of his hands gripped your jaw, and soft lips were pressed against yours. you smiled into the kiss and added more pressure. as he pulled away, you instinctively moved forward for more. that made him chuckle, and grabbed your chin once more. however, this kiss was more passionate. you could never forget that night. it was purely blissful.

for the next six months, life felt like paradise. there was a consistency of “i love you-s,” cuddles, and even sex. but, as they say, happiness is only temporary. on your sixth month anniversary, you and hajime had planned a fancy dinner date on the bay. you showed up early, with excitement written on your face. you were currently wearing a satin maroon dress with a black trench coat on top. as you sat at your table, you pulled out a box out of your pocket. it was a promise ring. you rubbed the circumference of it, trying to ease your nerves. was this moving too fast? you were certain that you couldn’t love another the way you love hajime.

as the hour strikes, he still hadn’t showed up. you repeatedly checked your watch, and even asked other people’s in case your time was wrong. you texted hajime multiple times with no response. anxiety started bubbling in your stomach. what if hajime’s hurt? what if he got into a car accident? what if a UFO came down and kidnapped him? you prayed to yourself that none of those things were true.

before you even realized it, another hour went by. and at this point the waiters were passively suggesting you to leave, due to their full house. at first, you were weary, what if hajime shows up? you thought. although, you complied with the waiters and left. you called him so many times with no pick up. before jumping to conclusions, you decided to text her.

y/n: hey, have you talked to hajime recently?

her: nope! but i can text him if you’d like!

y/n: sure

you rolled your eyes at her message, she acted like he’d answer her and not you. you were his girlfriend for god sakes. obviously if he could text someone it’d be you... atleast that’s what you thought before you got a notification.

her: oh he just said he’s at home, was there something you needed?

that text broke your heart. he’s at home? worst of all he texted her back and not you? you just left her on read and headed home.

as you slammed your phone on the bed, you got ready to sleep. slipping into one of hajime’s shirts and a pair of underwear you tuck yourself in. while drifting, you inhaled his shirt and it smelled like him. his cologne had a wood musk scent to it which you adored. and before you realized it, you were crying. crying yourself to sleep.

the next morning during school, you did everything in your power to ignore hajime. you skipped the lockers, lunch, and even prevented going to bathroom in case he was there. who could blame you? you were still upset after being stood up.

“miss y/n, could you grab these papers and send it to the office please?” your teacher asked.

you picked up the hefty amount of sheets and went on your merry way. with your guard down roaming the hallways, you failed to notice her and hajime at the end of it. as you both looked up from a long distance with eye contact, you simply turned around and took a detour. you could hear sneakers quickly catching up to you. it was hajime.

“hey baby i haven’t seen you all day,” he wrapped his arm around you.

you ignored him and continued looking straight ahead.

“hey are you okay?”

silence.

“y/n if you’re going to act like this and not tell me what’s going on, i’m going to go.” hajime said with a stern voice. you bit your lip, trying to hold tears back. you nudged yourself off of him and replied “fine.”

how could he be mad at you? and why’s he acting like nothing happened?

at the end of the school day, hajime was waiting at the gates for you. you caught sight of him and sighed. you couldn’t hold it off any longer. as you approached him, you saw her peeking out next to him. of course. with annoyance, you started walking home, with them behind you. the walk home was silent, excluding the loud footsteps trailing behind you. as soon as she turned for her house and a couple more steps, hajime grabbed your wrists and gently pinned you on the wall.

“tell me what’s wrong.”

immediately, tears start falling down your face.

“how could you forget about our sixth months?”

at this point, iwaizumi’s face turned pale. paler than a sheet of printer paper. he quickly kissed your tears, and rambled apologies.

“i can explain, that day hachi had some major family issues. her dad had just left the house to get drunk, and her mom was out of town. she needed me to come over, so i rushed.”

“so then, why didn’t you text me back?”

“what?”

“you heard me”

“i gave my phone to hachi because her dad broke hers.”

you gave a confused look. her phone wasn’t broken, she literally texted you and to think about it you never said her name aloud or in your thoughts.

“what? i literally texted her the night of and she said you texted her back saying you were home”

“hachi wouldn’t do that.”

did he just assume that you would lie? what reason would you even have to lie? you pulled up your phone and showed him the messages.

“this was probably a misunderstanding, are you sure your connection was good? some of them probably didn’t send so it looks bad” he casually said.

you were just in so much shock when he said that. how could he? why did he? your head started to feel stressed so you just walked away. not wanting to hear his idiotic excuses anymore. he trailed behind you and wrapped his arms around you.

“please don’t leave us on bad terms, i’m sorry i won’t do it again” you felt tears on the back of your school uniform.

“i guess it wouldn’t hurt to forget this one instance” you thought to yourself. so what did you do? you forgave him.

poor little naive girl.

after you guys made up, he decided to have a make up anniversary. you guys cuddled up on your bed and watched many sappy romance movies while ordering your favorite place. this was way better than an expensive dinner. you were just glad he was in your arms again and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

you got up from the bed with his arms dragging behind to go into your dresser, where you hid the box. as you were about to turn around and suprise him, his phone rang. who could be calling at this hour? you know who. hachi.

“don’t pick it up” you frowned.

“please babe just give me one second?” he pouted.

you nod in a agony. as he answered it, you could hear dramatic tears on the other end with a concerned hajime on the line.

“are you okay?! he did what?! i’m coming right now”

as he ended the call, he buckled his pants back on.

“you’re kidding right?”

you hid the tiny box behind your back.

“what are you talking about y/n?” he frustrated, clearly stressed out.

“this is our anniversary and you’re going over to see another girl?”

“y/n, she’s my best friend and you know that. plus she’s home alone and her dad just broke a window.”

“then can i come with you?”

he shook his head, “i don’t think she wants anyone to see her in that state right now”

“except for you, hm makes sense okay”

“can you please not be insecure for like one day?” his fingers ran through his hair.

your eyes widened, “are you fucking serious? you’re the one that made me insecure! first i dropped the whole dinner phone text thing even though there was obvious evidence hachi was trying to sabotage us, why can’t you see it?!”

“y/n, at the beginning of our relationship you acknowledged that i had a close girl friend. and with that, the dinner thing was just a misunderstanding. stop bringing that up or else.” he aggressed.

“are you seriously threatening me right now?”

“if you leave right now.. t-then we’re over!” the words just slipped out of your mouth. both of you guys were in shock. you were just so relentlessly depleted from this argument that you decided this was your solution.

he furiously opened the door, “hajime wai-” you were cut off by the door slamming shut. tears were flowing like a waterfall at this point. you gave yourself some time to breathe and reevaluate. you couldn’t lose hajime, he was your person. your light. your yellow. you put on your sneakers and ran to hachi’s house, knowing he’d be there. you grabbed the promise ring alongside so you could beg for forgiveness.

your breath was ragged, damn were you out of shape. but at the end, you got to your destination. as you analyzed the house, there seem to be no windows broken, but the front door was opened slightly. you knew she was lying from the start about her dad smashing things. you slowly walked in as quiet as possible and could hear sobs in the other room. as you pressed your ear to the door, it was hajime’s sobs. your heart felt so much guilt, sayings like “i love her so much” and “how could she just say that?” were the only phrases you could comprehend. then there was silence. as you opened the door, prepared to make up, you couldn’t believe your eyes. hachi and hajime’s face were about a half an inch away from each other. they both looked up at you.

“nice intact windows, take this stupid fucking ring, you’re dead to me iwaizumi” you chucked the box at him. as he looked at the box, it had been embroidered ‘promise’ on it and he knew what that meant. you quickly made your exit through the door with hajime closely behind you.

you stopped in your tracks, “please just leave me alone” your voice now dainty.

“y/n, plea-”

“please what? please forget about what i saw? i knew it i fucking knew it. you know what, this whole time you made me like the bad guy when it was YOU. you made me like this, and the worst part is I STILL LOVE YOU.” you punched jabs into his chest. obviously it didn’t hurt him physically, but emotionally it felt like a million swords were stabbing him repeatedly.

“please stop this, is there anyway you can forgive me? please?” he sobbed.

“i’ll do anything”

“would you leave hachi for me?” you asked sharply.

his hesitation was all you needed. in his head he answered yes, but it was like his vocal chords stopped working. deep in his heart, he knew you deserved better. so he stayed quiet.

“go to hell, go fuck hachi or something see if i care.” but you did care. you just wished that he fought just a little bit for you. but he never did and you had to accept it like a champ.

before this all happened, you had dreamed about iwaizumi hajime and yours’s future. but now it’s all ruined.

you’re left heartbroken and lost $350 on a ring that had no meaning.

[enigmawrappedinhypocrisy]

*Request* Okay. Thanks! Could the reader be in to wrestling and her and barley are best friends? And something happened and they find out they’re falling for each other? And Ian is always teasing the reader? And a kiss at the end? Sorry if it’s a bit confusing.. again thanks!

 Okay I’m not sure how to do this… and I’m not into wrestling… And i’m really bad at this getting things done thing… sooo… I’m sorry, I know this has been in my asks for 100 years. But excuses… And i’m tired of this being in my drafts sooo… However, Hopefully it's decent enough. 

Fandom: Onward

Pairings: Barley x Reader (mention of grandchildren once but nothing that indicates gender... I think...) 

Warnings: Bad writing, Quick Mention of drunk idiots harassing reader, I don’t know a thing about Wrestling, Fluff, very bouncy thoughts... a tiny little bit of almost angst. 

❀✦ Master List✦❀

You met Barley at a wrestling match when a few drunk idiots decided to hassle you. As they tend to do… 

You ran into the first, seemingly safe person you saw. You looked at him with puppy eyes and were grateful he understood your silent plea. 

Barley smiled warmly and put his arm around you. He pretended to be your boyfriend until the guys lost interest in you and left. He made some jokes to lighten the mood and struck up a casual conversation with you, as if you really did know each other. You found yourself amazed and feeling better, it seemed this elf boy radiated security and gentleness.  

Then, with a simple thank you, you’d parted ways; only to run into each other again at the local diner after the match. It was there you had sat and talked well into the early hours of the morning. 

You learned he was interested in many things you were, and you just felt… content around him. By the time you had to part, numbers were exchanged, and he’d texted you before noon that day. 

You began hanging out shortly after that. You were nearly always at each other’s house, and quickly became close with his family. His mother adored you and his brother felt comfortable enough to joke around with you. 

All in all you and Barley were quite close.

But not as close as your family's seemed to think you were… or maybe hope would be more appropriate…  

*

The weekend had finally arrived and you made your way to Barley’s house, as planned, after work.

There was a big wrestling event in the evening and you and Barley had plans to hang out and watch it together. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to spend a lot of time at the Lightfoot house so no one batted an eye when you showed up a little early. 

Ms. Lightfoot welcomed you and let you know that Barley had called saying he'd be a little late, and she was going out with friends. As she was leaving she turned to wink at you telling you, with a knowing look, to have fun. 

You thanked her as you felt your cheeks flush with warmth and made your way to the familiar living room. You didn't mind waiting for Barley, in fact, you'd be willing to wait all night if it meant spending time with him. Not that you would tell him that...

Lost in your thoughts about how dumb and sappy that sounded even in your mind, and the implications therein, you hadn't noticed Barley's brother come in.

You had spent a fair amount of time with both brothers since you’d first met Barley. So by this time Ian was pretty comfortable around you, sometimes even coming to you for help or advice. Especially when it entailed something he might have been too embarrassed about to ask his mother or brother about.  

 Ian had decided to take a break from homework, and get a snack when he found you lost in thought on his couch. When he came back from the kitchen only to find you with the same dazed expression several minutes later he decided to tease you a little. 

"Barley late for date night?" Ian asks, his tone even, leaning against the wall an apple in hand. 

"Yea- wait no! Why would you say that?" You blink taken off guard by the sudden question. 

Ian raises an eyebrow in a ‘really?’ expression. 

“Shut up” you try and fail to keep the blush from your voice. "We're just… eh… hanging out!" You defend a little too enthusiastically. 

“Interesting that’s the part you chose to respond to…” Ian chuckles, before heading back upstairs. If you weren't ready to admit your feelings, who was he to do it for you… besides, this was  far more amusing.

*

It wasn't much longer until Barley arrived home, a little disheveled. The match wasn't due to start for another hour, maybe more depending on how things went, and yet it looked like the elf boy had rushed home. 

Why? 

The only thought that continued to creep into your mind was you… he rushed home to see you. The idea of It warmed your heart, and filled you with a longing. A longing for a potential life where Barley was coming home after work each day to see you. 

He'd find you cooking… reading… working on some project… and kiss you. 

You'd ask him about his day… and he yours. 

You'd share a pleasant dinner and end the night cuddled on the couch… 

You’d be happy… 

Ian's words run on loop in your mind and you don’t notice the way Barley’s face lights up upon seeing you. 

Did Barley think you were dating? That this was a date? 

Did he want it to be? 

Did you? 

You hadn't noticed you were staring until Barley brought attention to it. 

"What?" You jump. 

"I asked why you were looking at me like that?" he gives you his charming little half smile as he repeats, what you assume was, his earlier question. 

"Oh, um… nothing… no reason" you blush and desperately avoid looking at him. 

Barley watches you for a moment, clearly not believing your answer, but gives in with a shrug. 

"I'm just gonna go put my stuff down and get something to drink… you want something?" He asks. 

"Okay, um… no thanks" you try to sound casual all the while you're incredibly aware of your quickening heartbeat. 

Barley nods before leaving you, calling to you from the kitchen. He asks about your day. You give a non answer in response and ask him about his. 

He goes on to tell you about some funny thing his boss said in response to an irate customer, and soon returns to the living room. He hands you your drink before flopping down next to you. 

You scold him as you nearly spill. Not really realizing he brought you something even though you told him you didn’t need him to… not only that, but it was definitely your favorite… why would he… how… 

"Sorry my love" he smirks, clearly not sorry. 

You roll your eyes giving him a little shove in response to the nickname. He often called you sweet things. Things you previously attributed to his personality or teasing but now they had you wondering.

When he called you those things, sweetheart, darling, dear… was he actually hinting at what he really felt? 

You look at him out of the corner of your eye and quickly squeak noticing he was watching you with an indescribable emotion.

"W-what?" You try to act casual. 

"What's wrong with you?" He asks, blunt and to the point. 

"What do you mean?" You try and play it off, as if your mind wasn’t playing that little game with the levers and ball… and see you can’t even remember what it’s called… and it’s your analogy… 

PINBALL! Your brain was playing pinball… the dinging buzzing things the ball hits against being the sudden and many thoughts… which makes you the ball? Or was the ball the thoughts… bouncing around… there goes the analogy again…  

"You're being all quiet and…” he indicates you vaguely,  “did my mom say something to you? She's been teasing me about grandchildren lately, she didn't say something like that too you did she?" 

Your eyes widen and you suspect Barley didn't mean to let that slip out by the blush now coloring his ears. 

"No… but um… what-what do you tell her when she asks about that kind of stuff?" Yeah super subtle… 

Barley scratches the back of his neck, “I tell her we haven't discussed that…" 

Wait…

"Why would we… Um Barley?" You push away your insecurities, fear that you’d read the situation wrong, and decide to just jump in with both feet. 

Or tip over the machine? Does it work now? The analogy? 

He 'hmms'. 

"Do you think we're dating?" You try to phrase it gently but cringe when you hear yourself. You don’t want to come across rude, like you’re making fun of him… but also don’t wanna let on how much you’re starting to suspect you want him to say yes… 

Barley looks away from you, practically purple at this point. 

"Uh… no of course not…" It sounded small, nervous but... hopeful? 

"Do… do you want to?" you manage to force out, slightly proud of your mostly even tone.

Do you?

You’re still not sure at this point yourself, you’d only just realized the way you feel about the elf boy that was your best friend. Did you want to risk that? What happens if this was just a little puppy attraction, lust thing… and whatever relationship you begin quickly sizzles out? 

Barley is looking at his hands as he nervously fiddles with the zipper of his vest. He bites his lip and tries to avoid your gaze. 

Oh… 

You soften, “It’s okay if you do… I mean… wanna… um…” Now you can’t find the words, which becomes more difficult when Barley looks up at you, hope shining in his eyes. 

“What are you saying?” he prompts, heart pounding in his chest. He hopes you can’t hear it. 

You shift, turning towards him slightly. “Well… if you wanted to maybe go on a date or something…” 

“Yes?” 

“I’d probably be okay with that… I mean… if you want to” you add the last part, now desperately hoping this wasn’t some awful joke. 

Barley smiles, reaching forward to brush a piece of hair from your face. “Do you wanna go on a date with me?” He asks softly, apparently having gained some confidence back. 

You nod, leaning into his touch before you realize you’re doing it. 

“Tomorrow night?” he suggests. 

Again, you nod, not trusting your voice. 

Barley smiles, his attention turning back to the tv. The match was starting soon, the announcers already talking about what they expect to happen. He leans back, his arm resting behind you on the top of the couch. Not an uncommon thing for the elf boy. What was uncommon, however, was you relaxing against his side and how right it felt.

Without a word, perhaps because he wasn’t sure he could trust his voice either, Barley brings his arm down around you, holding you against him. 

If you had the courage yourself to look up at him, you would have seen the flushing upon his cheeks. But either way this was comfortable and you weren’t in a hurry to end it any time soon. 

*

A few hours later Barley's mom returns home. Maaaybe a little drunk which results in her cooing loudly when she finds you and Barley asleep and cuddling on the couch. 

This, and her half stumbling up the stairs, manages to rouse you and Barley from your comfortable nap.

Barley yawns, and slowly gets to his feet. 

"Come on, I'll drive you home" he offers another yawn soon follows.

"Don't worry, I can drive myself" you stretch, not really pleased with the idea of making the trip home yourself.

"You're too tired- not safe" Barley half murmurs. 

"You're too tired" you retort. 

"You should stay here… on the couch… or I can take the couch" he stumbles over his words. 

You nod in agreement flopping back on the couch. When Barley doesn't leave you raise a brow in question. 

"I was just thinking…" he shuffles from one foot to the other.

You watch him with patient eyes, now a little more alert. You'd let him say what he needed, when he needed not wanting to rush him. 

"I mean… if I don't drive you home I can't kiss you goodbye…" 

His ears were a dark maroon by now and you can't keep the smile from your eyes. His sweetness, his bashfulness, just how God damn cute he was. And most of all… how much you wanted to kiss his pink tinted face. 

So you did. 

You stood, quicker than he could react, grabbed his face on either side, and brought his lips to yours. After a moment of shock Barley’s arms come around you, keeping you too him. 

You can't say for sure if the head rush you felt was from the kiss or standing too suddenly, but you chose to think it was the kiss as you give him several more little pecks before eventually breaking apart with a yawn. 

"Better?" You ask, your head falling forward to lean against his shoulder. 

Barley nods before pulling back, calling a good night to you, and hurrying to his room. 

You chuckle softly before flopping once again on the couch… there'd be time tomorrow to deal with all this… but for now… sleep was calling and the old couch was far too inviting… 

*And that’s all folks*

[sleepypaladiknight]

OK FIC IDEA:

that one au where you can hear your soulmate singing out loud in your head- but leopika

leorio wasn’t much of a singer as a child- the impoverished corner of the world he lived in didn’t have much music to sing to, either. the closest he’s got were the staticky, muffled and clipped tunes that rattled out of the neighbor’s radio. that’s why he’s always preferred listening- listening to his soulmate’s songs.

it was in a language he didn’t understand, but it was the clearest, sweetest music he’s ever heard. he memorized those humble tunes and lullabies, tracing the foreign syllables over and over with his tongue and humming the melodies nobody but him and his soulmate knew. he carved his soulmate’s voice into his mind, bragging to Pietro about his melodic partner and how he couldn’t wait to meet him.

then one day they stopped.

he found it coincidental- that it was on the same day Pietro passed away from illness. but it was fitting- it was a day where all the music and life left him.

as years went on his hopes of hearing his soulmate’s comforting tune dwindled away, but the music and the tunes he cherished so much as a boy remained, even as he learned new songs to sing to in the world around him. he’d sing out as loudly as he could, the raunchiest and most irritatingly popular songs he knew on some days, hoping offhandedly to lure the music from his partner again and hear that kind, soft voice just one more time. it never worked.

so, he swore to never sing that song, that one soft melody, until he heard it from his soulmate themself.

then he met kurapika. a guy who didn’t sing at all, and whose expression alone sang out his melancholies. his voice was prim and strict, the annoying, uppity kind that made Leorio’s blood boil, but it was familiar.

in the confines of trick tower, the topic began to stray.

“your soulmate must love your singing.” he teased.

the blond seemed to hesitate, and didn’t meet his eye. “i don’t care about soulmates.” kurapika’s voice sounded almost sad. “it would be for the better if mine never meets me at all.”

“yeesh, that’s real positive of you.”

“and what about you?” he said almost accusingly. “what do you think of your soulmate?”

“i don’t care about my soulmate, either,” he bit out, “but it’s for a good reason. mine stopped singing to me.”

“they must have their reasons.”

“which are probably as pompous and bratty as you!”

then they were back to their usual bickering. life went on, and his ambitions neared with every step of the journey he completed. their little group parted ways to chase after their own interests and dreams, and for around a year, leorio never saw one of them face to face.

then kurapika showed up on a cloudy evening, after billions and gazillions of ignored calls and texts left on delivered. they exchanged apologies and grievances and angers, embraced each other and shared glances that lasted a few seconds too long as they talked.

for some reason, kurapika had a strained look on his face when leorio began to sing the lyrics to some queen song. he wouldn’t even look at him, but leorio shrugged it off as usual angsty behavior.

they found themselves on the rickety balcony of leorio’s cheap apartment, looking out over the city.

“so, still given up on your soulmate?”

kurapika said nothing.

“well, me too, i guess.” he sighed out. “i lied to you- back at the exam when i told you i didn’t care about my soulmate. i,” he laughed, a bittersweet sound, “i actually cared a lot. it just felt easier to deny it. it’s... pretty damn hard facing the idea that maybe my soulmate really doesn’t care anymore, doesn’t want to meet me. maybe they’re gone. maybe they hate my voice or something- from what i remember, they were a hella good singer. nice, bright voice and everything. maybe they didn’t wanna end up with someone musically talentless like me. maybe that one time i sang ‘call me maybe’ in the shower was the last straw.”

and to his delight, it drew a soft chuckle from the blonde leaning against the railing next to him, arms brushing and shoulders touching. his hair looked like silver in the moonlight. still, kurapika didn’t reply.

so leorio forged on.

“i, uh, already told you my soulmate stopped singing. like, completely. but i still remember the songs they used to sing. they were a huge comfort to me when i was little, when things were hard and a little bit of song was something people couldn’t even afford. i didn’t even know what the words mean, still don’t, but all i know is that they meant the world to me.” leorio glanced at kurapika with a sheepish smile. “wanna hear? so maybe you can hunt down the bastard that left me hanging?”

“sure.” his voice was scratchy, almost pained.

and leorio began gently. kindly. he was sure his accent was off- it didn’t roll off his tongue as fluently as it did for his soulmate all those years ago. but the sounds and the tune was the same- the one that he’s devotedly committed to memory, the one that he hastily wrote down on a piece of binder paper as a reminder of the comfort his soulmate used to bring, the one that he swore to never forget- it was his soulmate’s last song.

when he tapered off into absentminded humming, he realized kurapika was crying. his eyes were blown wide, flecks of magenta shimmering across the deep, scarlet hue of his irises. tears rolled down his soft, pale cheeks, glinting like diamonds in the moon’s embrace, falling on a dampened shirt that clasped trembling shoulders. leorio felt clumsy and dumb, trying to soothe kurapika, asking him what was wrong, if he was okay- then kurapika began to choke out words, rubbing away at his eyes with his arms.

“how do you know that song.” it wasn’t a question, it was a demand.

“i already told you, my soul-“

“no. you don’t understand. it’s a very personal song. a traditional song.” kurapika teared up again, liquid sadness welling up in his eyes. “it’s a song- a lullaby- that i’ve forgotten for the longest time. it’s my mother’s.”

leorio gaped, “your mom was my soulmate?!”

“no, you idiot!” Kurapika couldn’t help but laugh through his tears, beating a fist against leorio’s chest. they burst into a fit of laughter, boisterously cackling in the silence of the night, overpowering the honking cars in the streets below and the sound of their worries adrift in their heads. nothing but them existed.

kurapika’s hand remained there, on leorio’s chest, starting to clench at the fabric of his dress shirt. they were silent, for seconds, minutes, maybe hours, until Leorio’s hand drifted up to meet it, brushing gently against the soft, scarred skin of Kurapika’s slender fingers.

“i’m sorry.” kurapika whispered softly, barely above his breath. “i wasn’t fair to you. you were always trying, always singing to me.”

leorio couldn’t speak.

“i’ve been hearing your voice for years now. you and your- your stupid songs-“ he laughed out, but it sounded more like a choked sob.

leorio couldn’t breathe.

“i didn’t mean to make you lose hope. but i was hoping you would, so you wouldn’t chase after someone like me.”

leorio couldn’t think.

kurapika was leaning closer, voice growing quieter and quieter until they had to be inches apart to hear, to exchange words.

“i couldn‘t bring myself to sing. i didn’t have a reason to, not anymore. not after what happened to my clan. i noticed you stopped singing for a time, too. but it only took months before you began again, gaining more momentum with every song. i envied you and your strength.”

kurapika had started to shake, small frame shuddering against leorio’s. without thinking, he brought his other hand up to thumb away a tear that had begun trickling down kurapika’s face.

“i wanted to sing to you too, but all the songs i wished to teach you had disappeared from my memory. i was so preoccupied with my goals, that i... i began to forget the things that mattered more. what the faces of my family and my old friends looked like. what the lukso sunlight felt like on my skin, or how the grass felt underneath my feet. what the croons of a happy piko bird sounded like, or how beautifully blue the sky was on a sunny day. what my mother’s voice sounded like, what the words to her songs were, i, i-” kurapika sobbed, “i betrayed myself and my entire clan. i thought i had truly lost them and the part of myself that i swore i wouldn’t let die.”

their foreheads fell together, touching reassuringly. kurapika’s eyes fluttered closed as he spoke, body rendered as fragile as his voice, his feelings, his heart. leorio held each with careful, treasuring hands.

”i’d become a monster. a stranger in the same body i walked my home with. i thought- i thought that my soulmate didn’t deserve someone like that. someone like me.” he heaved out, chest shuddering with every quiet breath, “you don’t deserve someone like me, and i could never-“

and leorio shut that bullshit up with his lips.

they slotted together perfectly. call him disgustingly cheesy, sappy, any romantically insulting insult you could throw- but it felt like harmony. it felt so beautiful, his emotions crescendoing and his heart thrumming mercilessly in his chest as it fitted against kurapika’s. those soft, slightly chapped lips, damp from the tears that had trickled past them, felt perfect on his, like his lips were made to meet them. and just as easily as he had lost the music and life all those years ago, it was returned to him, in the form of a blond, pressed up against him and demanding for more, more, more with his mouth, hands all over his shoulders, fingers tangled in hair, breathing in each other, kissing like it was the very last thing they could do.

when they parted, leorio let himself get intoxicated by the sound of kurapika’s panting, drunk on the soft sounds that spilled past his lips like music.

”cut- cut the crap,” he breathed out, pulling kurapika closer by the waist and burying his head in his head of gold. ”for the rest of my life, stop talking. and start singing.”

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 39

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 4.6k

; Warnings: Drinking, mentions of pain

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Much faster this time, huh? For only the second time in the story...enjoy Hoseok’s POV! I hope you enjoy it and please reblog if you do so others can read <3 let me know your thoughts in a comment or ask! :D

; Flower Masterpost

-

“Everyone, take a shot,” Jimin says loudly, thrusting the tray holding a dozen or so filled shot glasses around the table. “Good, good. Now, let’s drink to Hoseok defying all our expectations and getting married!”

The younger man is already half-drunk, never being one to go slow or take it easy when there’s plenty of alcohol around. Hoseok isn’t particularly surprised, not when the group had already visited three bars by this point. It was his bachelor party tonight, only two weeks before his wedding and his friends were determined to give him a good time.

He’d been adamant that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with any strippers or anything that could be accidentally misconstrued. The last thing he needed was you thinking he’d cheated only weeks before the big day. Plus, he just wasn’t into that anymore.

Instead, he’d asked Jungkook to try and plan something that would avoid stuff like that. Hoseok just wanted to have a good time with his friends, not potentially cause a scandal. Thankfully, his best man had agreed happily and had instead planned the night to be a series of bar hops around the city. The day had involved everyone driving an hour to a place that let them drive quad bikes, do archery, have some paintball matches and loads more.

He was hurting from the paintballs, particularly the awful gauntlet they’d made him run at the end in which everyone had formed a tunnel for him to run through while shooting the shit out of his ass, but he’d enjoyed every minute of it. Now, he was just comfortably buzzed while some of his friends were well on their way to drunk. 

Namjoon, who was currently suffering from his toddler’s inability to let him sleep past 5 am lately, looked half asleep across the table from him. His eyes were glazed and unfocused, jaw slightly dropped as he tried to focus on the glass in front of him. Jungkook had placed it there about ten minutes ago, full of water. 

All of the guys were here today, having made sure to block out the time to celebrate with him and he felt a little shy at all the attention surprisingly. You didn’t have any other male friends, which meant his friends were all he had in his groom’s party. Six groomsmen for him and five bridesmaids for you.

You’d had to diplomatically pick between Chungha and Soyeon for your maid-of-honour, ending up with Chungha being chosen. Hoseok was forever amazed at how strong the friendship was between you all. Decades of media had taught Hoseok was women saw each other as rivals in everything and he’d been beyond worried about the fact you had to pick between your two best friends.

Reality had been a good slap in the face though, and he’d learnt over the four years of being with you that he should firmly ignore everything the media said. Your best friends had been gracious with each other, both trying to encourage the other to take on the role before Soyeon had given Chungha her full support. It amazed him but also made him happy that you had such a good friendship with them both.

The final space in your bridesmaid lineup wasn’t filled, and Yoongi was going to be walking alone at the end. You’d kept the space free to symbolise his sister, letting her be a part of the ceremony even if she couldn’t be there physically.

That had gotten him a little choked up when you’d told him your plans, but it had made his parents cry when he’d, in turn, told them. Any lingering concern that his parents might not actually like you had vanished then. Your sweet insistence of making sure she was a part of the day and not forgotten cementing your place in his family.

He’s brought back into the moment by Jungkook slapping his back hard, causing him to wince and almost spill the entire shot out of the glass. Glaring at him, Hoseok pushes him back before swallowing what was left of the shot. It makes him cringe, the taste of the straight vodka, not his favourite.

“Man,” Jimin sighs, flopping back into his seat before running his fingers through his hair. “Can you believe it? Jung Hoseok. Getting married. If you’d have said that in college, I would’ve laughed hysterically at the thought. The only thing I thought you’d marry was your dick into any available pussy.”

His words make Hoseok’s nose wrinkle, even if he couldn’t deny what he’d said. It was still amazing even to him that he’d finally found someone that he genuinely loved and who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. For his friends, it was probably even more fascinating. Yet here he was.

Loving every moment of it.

“You know, I’d have thought after four years that you all would have come to terms with this. It’s not exactly a surprise anymore.” Hoseok was pleased that he hadn’t drunk enough to have his words be slurred. The last time he’d been truly wasted had been when he’d decided to introduce you to the lovely male concept of a dickcopter. Not his best moment.

Perhaps one of his funniest though.

“We have come to terms with it. Still a surprise though.” This comes from Namjoon, causing Hoseok to give him a betrayed expression. Of all his friends, he’d have thought that Namjoon would’ve been the one who understood how his life had changed upon meeting you. While Jimin had married Eden since Hoseok had met you, everyone had known that Jimin was one of those guys who wanted to have a loving, monogamous relationship.

He was the one in their group that had fantasised about marriage even in college. Meeting Eden had been the icing on his cake, even if neither of them was too sure whether they wanted kids or not.

But Namjoon had been much like Hoseok during the first years of college. Something which had certainly surprised you when you’d found out. Despite how diligent he’d been at his studies, Namjoon had discovered that he was attractive to women. Combined with the help of his friends to make sure he presented himself to highlight all his best points, such as his tall and broad physique which only looked better with a few workouts or how glasses seemed to make the girls swoon, he’d been in his element.

And then he’d met Amelia in his final year, falling hard and defying everyone’s expectations. There had been many heartbroken women, and men, around campus upon finding out that Kim Namjoon had finally succumbed to love.

They’d consoled themselves in Hoseok’s bed instead, for years afterwards as well.

Images of all the girls he’d entertained throughout his life ran through his mind like lightning. Girls of all skin colours, heights and backgrounds had graced his bed, or him theirs. All of them beautiful and worthy of a fun night, or at least ten minutes of his time.

He’d used to be one of those guys who was proud of his sexual prowess, safe in the knowledge that he could probably get any woman he wanted with some effort. It made him cringe now. Hoseok had never been one of those asshole guys who’d bragged and boasted about his body count, but he’d not exactly been subtle either. 

Throughout those years, he’d been adamant that he didn’t want a proper relationship. Hoseok had been more than fine with one-night-stands and short-term relationships that were probably better as being categorised as friends-with-benefits. He hadn’t thought he could monogamy. The thought of reducing himself to one woman and denying all the delights that life had to give him was dissatisfying.

The Hoseok from back then was a fucking idiot, he thought now. A self-centred, dick-centric idiot. The very idea of what he’d been was embarrassing to him now, making him more than thankful that you’d never met him back then. You’d deserved way better than whatever he’d had to offer.

Hoseok knew that he couldn’t go back in time to change things. But he also knew that if he was given the chance, he probably wouldn’t either. Because as humiliating as his old self had been, he knew that it had formed the person he was today. And if he’d been open to a serious relationship for all those years, then he probably wouldn’t have met you.

So, yeah, he wasn’t proud of his past. But he wouldn’t change it. Not when he knew that he’d finally grown up in time to find you. You’d shown him that relationships weren’t something to roll his eyes at or be afraid of, that love was something he was deserving of and was also capable of giving.

And here he was now, frowning at the glass in front of him on the table and being a sappy idiot. The way he kept drifting away from conversations made him wonder if he was a little more than buzzed, but he found that he didn’t care. He was enjoying himself, even if he kept having these more serious thoughts.

It was a good job none of the guys could hear his thoughts now. They already gave him enough grief for going googly-eyed over you, as they called it.

Shifting back into the conversation, he realises that everyone is now talking about who they think will be next to get engaged. Hoseok is a little surprised at how quickly the topic had moved on, but given his friends, he’s also wondering how long it’ll take until it changes once more to how many farts a human can hold or something dumb.

Still, it’s his bachelor party and he feels the need to get involved. So he throws an arm over Jungkook and gives him a smirk, raising his brows in expectation.

“I bet our little Jungkookie here is going to be next. Got any plans on popping the question to Soyeon?” He grins broadly, taking in Jungkook’s expression with pure amusement. The younger man looks remarkably like a deer caught in headlights with his expressive eyes wide and sparkling with their usual youthful exuberance alongside more than a little alcohol.

“I-er,” He stutters, his cheeks turning a rosy pink even in the lowlight of the bar that makes everyone snort with laughter. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Bullshit!” Jimin’s small fist slams down on the table hard, causing the multitude of glasses to shudder and some of them to clink together. It also causes most of the guys around to almost clawing the ceiling with how hard they all jump. Eyes squinting at Jungkook, Jimin points one finger at him in an accusatory manner that seems a little out of proportion for the question.

“You’ve been together...a while now,” Hoseok’s shoulders jerk as he tries to hold in the snort at Jimin’s lack of numeracy skills suddenly. “There’s no way you haven’t thought of it. Women think we don’t think about that kinda shit but we do! And you’re the biggest fucking romantic on the table, Jeon Jungkook!”

His words are more than a little forceful and Hoseok has to bite his lip to stop from laughing, particularly when he glances at Jungkook’s shellshocked face. Alongside those impossibly large and wide eyes, his jaw has now dropped open and he’s staring at his friend in disbelief. Taehyung has an equally surprised look but Yoongi is nodding along in agreement, nursing his glass of whiskey that he’s had for at least half-an-hour now.

“He’s right, you are. I mean...you cried at Hercules when Meg died, remember?” Everyone goes quiet as they try to recall the incident from long ago. Even Hoseok is trying to remember it, his head tilted before giving up. There have been so many incidents of Jungkook crying at films that the Hercules one doesn’t even leave a mark.

“Sorry I have emotions, unlike you lot.” Jungkook is pouting now, crossing his arms over his chest. On another man, it’d probably look a little intimidating given the way his biceps bulged in the black dress shirt he’d put on or the way the buttons strained a little from his shoulders and chest. But Jungkook’s face negates that with his lower lip pushed out almost comically and his cheeks full.

Hoseok can’t help but reach over and cup them, squishing them until everyone laughs at the sight and making cooing noises to him. It’s with resignation that Jungkook lets him, his deep sigh brushing past Hoseok’s fingers while his shoulders slump. 

Almost immediately, Hoseok is reminded of how you call Jungkook the baby of his friendship group. It’s with a grin that he realises it’s true. He’s their baby, despite the fact he’s bigger than most of them all and can probably kill them just by squeezing their head between his arms.

“Girls dig that. Soyeon likes it, right?” Taehyung comments, brow rising from where he was sitting. His arm was resting on the back of the seat, body looking long and lean with his legs spread. He hadn’t been lucky enough to be in the booth itself and had had to grab a chair from another table.

There’d been more than a few hungry looks given to him from other patrons in the bar but Taehyung had remained oblivious, his long black hair ruffled from the day's activities and tiredness on his face. Although part of his obliviousness may also be because he was both asexual and aromantic, so it may be more than he’s purposefully not paying attention to it.

“Let’s not generalise women,” Seokjin interrupted, reaching out to gesture wildly with his bottle of Asahi beer. “It’s rude and they get angry when people do that.”

Everyone pauses to look at him with eyebrows raised, wondering where that came from. But no one questioned it, instead shrugging or nodding in acknowledgement to avoid him going on a rant. Not that there was anyone who didn’t agree, but the last thing Hoseok wanted was to listen to a bunch of drunk guys debate that.

“Anyway, I think she finds it more amusing. Like...sweet but...mostly funny. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Soyeon cry at a film yet. Maybe I just haven’t found the right film or genre yet.” Jungkook has a thoughtful look on his face, his gaze distant and Hoseok realises that he’s probably too tipsy for this kind of conversation.

From personal experience with Jungkook, Hoseok did not doubt that he would spend far too long having internal conversations, arguments and debates without even realising other people were talking to him. If anyone thought Jungkook was introverted normally then they hadn’t seen anything until he was drunk.

“Keep looking,” Hoseok says cheerfully, taking another shot and trying to clean his tongue with his teeth to remove the flavour. “You’ll find it eventually. I discovered that Meeps doesn’t cry at most things but she will cry at videos of cats that have been nursed back after being hurt.”

“Well...duh.” That comes from Taehyung, who’s giving Hoseok a serious ‘wtf’ look right now. It makes him feel a little self-conscious and so he grabs one of the random beers on the tables before taking a swig.

“Yeah, who wouldn’t cry at that? What the hell.” Placing a hand on the table, Yoongi looks at them all with a serious expression that could almost sober a person. It causes him to start ranting on about animal rights for the next five minutes, no one feeling brave enough to interrupt him. When Yoongi got going, everyone had long since realised that it was better to just let him get on with it.

By the time he finally stops, sitting back with a triumphant expression on his face before swallowing the last of his whiskey, everyone else has already finished another bottle of beer. Almost like they were trying to get themselves drunk as fast as possible to cope with Yoongi’s insistence that people who hurt animals should receive the same injuries back to them.

While Hoseok agreed, he didn’t quite like hearing about some of the incidents that Yoongi was talking passionately about. It made him think of Kasumi and Ciri, which made his chest hurt. 

He was a bit of a baby when it came to his furbabies.

Suddenly though, he’s overwhelmed with the intense desire to go home. To see his dog and stroke his cat and cuddle with you. Blinking slowly, he stares at the bottle before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his phone. The bright light as he unlocks it causes him to squint, trying to avoid being blinded before he realises with a shock that it’s after one in the morning.

His day had started at 10 am when he’d met up with all the guys at Jungkook’s place. They’d then made their way to the place for the day’s activities, having spent until 4 pm there before heading back to Jungkook’s to change into some clean clothes for their drinking time. Soyeon had been amused as she’d watched them all emerge almost like a new man, clean from the quick showers they’d taken and ready to get wasted.

But now he was tired. And holy fuck, he hurt. Hoseok had avoided trying to get up whenever possible. Which meant he fucking needed to piss right now, but moving hurt. His joints ached like fuck from all the activities while his body hurt so bad from the paintballing.

Licking his lips, he finished the last of his beer before sighing deeply. It caught the attention of the others, despite the music and noise. Upon seeing everyone’s gaze on him, he smiles at them.

“Okay guys, this has been a pretty great day. Thank you Jungkook for organising it and thank you to everyone for coming. It means a lot to me. Now, before I get too sappy...I’m going to head home.” He’s already organising for an Uber on his phone, ignoring the outraged noises that start from everyone.

It’s Jimin that’s loudest though, his voice rising in pitch and yet simultaneously getting deeper as his accent gets a little stronger.

“What? It’s not even late! We’ve still got plenty of drinking to do.” Now he’s the one pouting and Hoseok notes in amusement that Seokjin and Namjoon are nodding in agreement. Taehyung doesn’t seem to give two fucks, either way, giving him a lazy shrug before taking a drink of what Hoseok realises is a glass of water while Jungkook remains quiet.

“Guys, it’s one in the morning. I know that I’m flaking out early, but you guys can keep drinking. I’m okay with it, honestly. I just...I’m really tired. A little drunk too, probably not as much as you’d all like but enough for me. Also, I have a bruise on my ass that’s probably the size of Ireland from all the fucking paintballs you fired at me. I hurt.” He whines out the word, wanting to wiggle almost like a child but the pain that shoots up from his asscheek causes him to inhale quickly and still.

“Shit, does it hurt?” The question comes from Jungkook, who’s scanning Hoseok up and down as best he can. It’s not a good attempt given he’s had a little too many drinks and he doesn’t seem to be able to lift his head properly once it’s gone down too far, causing Hoseok to snort.

It doesn’t stop him from giving the younger man a droll stare, which he can only see when Hoseok forcefully lifts his chin back up. “Yes, it fucking does. Why do you think I’ve barely moved all evening?”

“Sorry.” Jungkook’s face is scrunched up and Hoseok knows why he looks so awkward. He’s pretty sure he may as well have Jungkook’s name imprinted on his back in bruises from how many times he’d been hit by him. The guy was far too fucking good at paintball, something Hoseok had regretted agreeing to within five minutes of being in the arena.

“It’s okay. But I’m done for the night. I’m going to go home and sleep so fucking hard. Meeps might think I’ve died in the morning or something.”

“Morbid.” Yoongi chuckles, tipping his new glass of whiskey towards him before grinning.

“Yep. Really glad that I asked for this to be done two weeks before the wedding. I’d have been like an old man if I’d agreed to do it the day before.” The very thought of having to hobble up the aisle made him cringe.

A notification on his phone distracted him though, the Uber app telling him that his ride is here. He feels a surprising amount of relief at being able to go home, the thought of his bed almost like a siren call that was too tantalising to resist.

“And with that, my Uber is here. Thank you for today, really,” Hoseok lets out a yelp of pain as he stands, gingerly holding his ass and causing everyone to simultaneously laugh and look concerned. “I appreciate it. It was fun and I enjoyed it all.”

It takes him another few minutes to finally get out of the bar; hugs being given out repeatedly to the guys while he accepts all their praise and well wishes. The Uber was idling by the side of the road and he wished that he could slump inside but instead, he had to gingerly get in and position himself with the least amount of pain. 

To make it even worse, he had to explain to the very sober driver that he wasn’t shitfaced but was actually in pain from the earlier paintballing. That had led to a whole conversation that Hoseok hadn’t anticipated, lasting the whole trip as he’d discussed where they’d gone and the activities they’d done. The guy seemed to be very interested in it and had given him many congratulations when he’d found out that Hoseok was at his bachelor’s party.

It never failed to amuse Hoseok how easily people wish congratulations upon finding out as if they felt obliged. What he didn’t quite appreciate was the guy's remarks about marriage, which were more than a little derogatory. Hoseok didn’t know why anyone would think it was a good idea to disparage marriage to someone who was only weeks away from marriage.

As he was leaving the car, he put on a polite smile and thanked the driver for the trip. Once he was out though, he resolved to not leave a good review. Maybe he sounded a little harsh, but having to listen to how he should ringfence all his finances to avoid them being leeched by his soon-to-be wife for whenever she inevitably cheated or left him had been more than he could handle.

If Hoseok hadn’t been tired before, he sure was now. 

Opening the front door, he kicks off his shoes with a heavy sigh before heading into the living room in darkness. Ciri is in her cage, fast asleep until Hoseok unlatches the door and calls her out. She’s slow to react, her little body tired until he opens up the backdoor and lets her out. He figures that you can both have a nice lie in if he lets Ciri out now. 

Closing the door once she’s out, he heads into the bathroom and brushes his teeth while peeing before washing his wash. He gets to see how badly bruised he is in the mirror for the first time and winces at the sight of the already black and blue flesh, knowing he’s going to be in even more pain tomorrow.

Sighing, he towel dries his face before heading out and letting Ciri back in. He’d love to have a little cuddle with her but he’s too tired, so he just puts a treat into her cage to coax her back in before giving her an attentive stroke and locking it. She’s too busy eating her chew eagerly to notice him. 

Heading to the bedroom, he pulls off his clothes in the dark before fumbling around to find his pyjamas. He’d go to bed in just his boxers but he wants to try and give a little bit of coverage to his poor body for tonight. Which is why he doesn’t even know if he’s put them on the right way around or not. Hoseok doesn’t even care, he already feels asleep.

There’s a little light when he gets over to the bed from your clock, the numbers glowing brightly in the night and highlighting your face as you sleep. Kasumi is curled up against your stomach on top of the covers, her eyes blinking slowly at Hoseok as he leans over to give her a stroke as well. She gives a quiet chirp of appreciation and he smiles softly at how her body vibrates as she purrs, her paws flexing and closing as she pads at your covered thigh.

And through it all, you don’t even stir. Your breathing is slow and steady while your body is completely relaxed, unaware he’s even arrived home. Hoseok doesn’t even realise he’s smiling until he lets out a soft laugh, knowing that you probably won’t wake up at all. Once you’ve fallen asleep then you’re truly out like a light until the early hours of the morning so he has no fear of waking you up.

Carefully, he climbs into bed and throws the cover over himself with a quiet groan as his limbs feel so heavy. He can’t even remember the last time he hurt this badly. It takes way more effort than he’d like to admit to not wake you up and have you coddle him. Mainly because you’re grumpy when you’ve been woken up.

What he does do though, is shift onto his side that doesn’t have the most bruises before carefully shuffling closer to you. A soft mewl of pain leaves him as he does so but he doubts he could get in any position without some level of discomfort right now. So he’ll be damned if he denies himself some comfort in cuddling your sleeping form.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he moulds himself to your back as gently as he can before letting out the deepest sigh he’s done in a while. His whole body relaxes, causing him to almost whimper as the pain he hadn’t realised he had is exacerbated by his now lax muscles. Fuck, that’s the last time he paintballs with Jungkook.

Pressing his nose to your back, he inhales deeply. You haven’t even moved, despite all the jostling he’s done behind you and there’s no change to your breathing. Taking in the comforting scent of you, he recalls his earlier thought process about his past. Feeling you solid and warm in his arms provides him with a sense of peace that he’s never found with anyone else, causing him to feel content despite his discomfort.

Yeah, he wouldn’t change a thing if it meant he ended up with you. And he doesn’t care how cheesy it sounds. In only two weeks, he’d be marrying you. He was allowed to be as sappy as he wanted, whether it was internally or externally.

You deserved to be praised and shouted about and goddammit, Jung Hoseok was going to worship you.