#this musical really shouldn’t have been as big of a part of my childhood as it was

[esfordays]

Sometimes it’s so jarring to remember that the events of the rocky horror picture show happen over the course of like… 8 hours plus that wedding at the beginning

[buuniebaby]

HOME TO ME - HAMZAH X LATINA!READER 🎀

hiii! first of all i wanna make a quick note - very sorry for the inconsistency in posting for a few days. ive been struggling with writers block and summer bedrotting is getting to me a lil. 😓😓

there were A LOT of drafts of this fic that i picked up and then didn’t like. a big part of that is that i really wanted to make a fic that hits sort of close to home, and that’s what this one is to me! i was born in nicaragua and moved to the us at a young age, so this fic is based off of my experiences relating to that, even down to little things like my parents and their broken english lol. i still tried to make it pretty ambiguous to other latin-american countries, so I hope it isn’t too specific. it took me a long time to write, but im really happy with the way it came out after a day or two of really thinking about it.

this fic includes: lots of fluff, then it gets nasty. mirror sex, nothing too rough 🤗

wc: 3.4k

Your childhood summers haven’t changed since the last time you stepped foot here, even though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. you’re home, and you’ve brought your boyfriend along with you this time.

the sun shines down on you, a little too hot for your liking. it’s a lot hotter down here than the canadian weather you’re used to. it’s different, but comforting at the same time. what really makes the biggest change is the sight of your boyfriend, rays of sunlight beaming down on him, framing his curls perfectly. it makes you feel at home just as much as being here does.

the air is warm and sticky, thick with remnants of a heavy rain. sweat clings to areas of exposed skin, dampening his shirt collar and hair with a sweat.

you don’t think you’ve loved the latin-american summer as much as you have seeing hamzah bask under it.

showing your boyfriend around your home country feels like the world around you is unreal. it’s like two universes colliding - ones that probably shouldn’t coexist.

one of the things that really makes you feel like you’re out of your own body is walking down the same road that baby-you walked down to get to school. if you could’ve told your middle school self that you bagged a man this bad she would’ve forgiven you for not marrying her celebrity crush.

and the food is what really gets you - the flavor of nostalgia mixing with the taste of your boyfriend’s lips is an otherworldly sensation. although you can’t get him too full yet; that’s a job for your family.

speaking of your family - hamzah is terrified.

he tries looking extra nice at first. he wants to make a good impression, just like you’ve told him to - it’s why he’s surprised you’re bursting out in laughter seeing him walk out in full black tie attire.

“you don’t have to dress like you’re going to a wedding, hamzah-“ you giggle when he speaks over you, trying to defend himself.

“you told me to look nice, and we’re going to a dinner, y’know-“ he rambles, but catches himself. “and you’re wearing a dress!”

you roll your eyes, giving him a dead stare. “this a a sundress, hamzah. it’s not like.. fancy.” he looks at you blankly back. it’s like there’s not a single thought behind his eyes.

after your criticism and a lot of banter, you’ve got him dressed up more.. how you would have envisioned. he’s got those glasses on - the ones he usually edits with. and god, he looks good. he’s paired those with a polo shirt and a nice pair of jeans; he looks nice, presentable, but not over the top.

you’re knocking on the door while he almost shyly stands behind you before you know it. it takes a good few seconds for you to receive any sort of response, but you’re used to it. once someone eventually comes to the door, you’re greeted with the sound of children squealing in the background and music playing off a speaker - the loud environment you’re most used to.

you think you can see hamzah sweating.

your mom greets you with two little cheek kisses, as always, then smothers you into a hug. “muy linda,” she presses another kiss to your forehead, “mi alma.” she eventually finishes her ramblings about how beautiful you are and how much she’s missed you, then pauses as she pulls back. hamzah flinches.

she’s eyeing him down, eyebrows furrowed with a hand on her hip. It’s the death glare - one you know very well. if he wasn’t sweating before he definitely is now, and you’re even close to breaking into one.

hamzah doesn’t even have time to panic before her angry demeanor snaps into laughter. she’s giggling at the way his smile had dropped, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into that same little cheek kiss. he stumbles when she does it, not knowing what to do; an anxious fluster of sorts.

she pulls away looking at you, and her giggles turn into straight-up laughter.

“he look at me so scared.. he like, ‘i already messed up!’” she says, still laughing, now imitating hamzah’s flustered appearance. her English is slightly broken, as you expected, but it’s the way she tries for you is what really counts. she’s putting in the effort. you laugh with her, but not really at what she’s saying - it’s the way she’s already made herself comfortable around your boyfriend.

“y tu eres el novio, verdad?” your father says, pointing at hamzah, managing to creep up behind your mother without you even noticing. “you going to marry her?”

you awkwardly laugh at your father and how weird he has to make things, but that’s just how your family is. hamzah doesn’t mind it, he understands - nonchalantly smiling, looking down at you as he replies with a quick “hope so.”

you giggle back, but your smile is genuine - you know he’s serious about what he just said. “maybe one day.” you continue for him.

you two enter your house and he’s already being crowded by relatives of yours. he’s introducing himself to one of your tías when he feels something tugging on the leg of his pants, startling him. he looks down only to see your baby cousin staring up at him, big beady eyes and an open mouth, almost like he’s some sort of god.

around an hour later, hamzah is about a beer and two plates of food in to the family function. he’s sitting on the floor, a doll in his hand, playing with that same prima from before. you’re not even sure if they’re communicating, if that baby can even speak any language yet, but whatever they’re doing hamzah.. seems to be enjoying himself.

it’s funny, but it’s sweet at the same time, watching your boyfriend like this. it makes you think of your future together. marrying him, taking him into your family - even watching him play with your little prima makes you fall ill with baby fever. he would be an amazing girl dad.

by the end of the night, hamzah is starting to get a little bit plastered, and your mom is already calling him mijo. you’re trying to teach him how to dance to your country’s music (which he surprisingly happens to not be bad at) while also trying to sneak a few drinks yourself. you’re running back to the bathroom when your mom catches you, pulling you aside for a second.

you tilt your head at her, confused. you’re hoping this isn’t what you’ve been nervous about the whole night - you really, really don’t want a “we don’t like this boy” talk.

instead, she smiles, which wipes away most of your worry, but you’re still staring at her reluctantly.

“te vas a casar con este chico.” she mutters, smiling. she might be a little drunk herself from the way she’s talking, but you know there’s a truth to her words. you smile back a small grin, but it means more to you than what appears - your man is locked in. even your mom agrees, he’s the one.

thank the lord.

the party dies down after a while, baby cousin and older relatives drifting off to their bedrooms one by one. you somehow find yourself sitting on your parent’s couch, cuddled up in a blanket next to hamzah. you’re both a little tipsy, what you would say is fine enough to drive, but you already know your mother will argue against you.

“y’wanna get out of here too?” hamzah whispers, voice deep and soft in your ear.

“mhmm.” you say, comfortable in his arms. “wanna stay here for a second though.”

hamzah doesn’t complain, gently rubbing your shoulder underneath the blanket with his forefinger and thumb. it’s domestic, a gentle touch, and it makes you feel warm inside.

“was cute seeing you play with my prima.” you mumble, smiling to yourself at the memory. he laughs when he picks up on what you’re talking about.

“I don’t really think I understood what was going on like, that whole time.” he begins to ramble. “I think her barbies were like, beefing and shit.” he says, smiling down at you when he sees the way you light up with laughter.

“if we ever like, get married, i wanna have a girl.” you say. he’s quick to rebut you.

“that’s not how it works.” he argues back, stupidly.

“well then, like, we just have more.” you say, the mix of alcohol and sleepiness not giving you the energy to seriously discuss this with him. “you’d make a good girl dad, i think.”

he smiles at that comment. he’s seen it around on tiktok and other social media. he thinks it’s cute, and suddenly the idea of marriage and knocking you up doesn’t seem so scary to him. that gentle touch on your shoulders is moving down to your hips before you know it. you’re both aware that you can’t do anything on your family couch, but you know the intention behind his grip.

“i think you’d be a good boy mom.” he says back. “i could see you like, teaching him how to cook and stuff. i think if you had a baby boy he would be like, really respectful, not like brain-rotted.” you laugh at the stupidity of his comments.

“i think if you raised a boy, he would end up going down like, the alt right pipeline, and start watching andrew tate clips on youtube shorts.”

you both laugh at that - it’s obvious that you’re joking now, but you still enjoy the deprecating banter.

“if my kid doesn’t reach alpha male status, im sending his ass to the frontlines.”

you continue your painfully stupid chatter, not paying attention to how dark it’s getting.

your mother eventually creeps up to you, and you take it as a sign that you should probably start making your way out.

after saying your final goodbyes to your family members who are still standing awake, you’re making your way out the door. after a few cheek kisses and repeatedly denying the “no cab? you sure?” from your mom, you two are on the way back to your hotel.

hamzah’s hand is on your thigh as he drives. it’s another domestic touch that drives you crazy. the little things are really getting to you tonight.

“you’re good with kids.” you mumble, letting your thoughts out with no warning.

“yeah?” is all hamzah says, keeping his eyes on the road and his hand on your thigh.

“yeah.” you repeat back in a breathier tone.

“im not getting you pregnant right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” he mutters, still focused on the road. “I’ll cum inside you, but I can’t handle a baby yet-”

“hamzah!” you nearly yell. “i don’t mean- i mean yeah, that’s a part of it, but like- i guess you’re just like-“ you stutter, trying to gather your flustered self. “it’s like, a domestic thing I guess. makes me wanna settle down with you one day.”

despite how nonchalant he’s acting, he gets exactly what you’re saying.

“yeah. y’know, that little sundress you’re wearing?” hamzah starts, eyes tearing off the road for a second. “that’s like, wife shit.”

you giggle at the way he says it, but you’re flattered at the intention.

“kinda surprised you liked it that much. feel like guys think sundresses are just like, skin-tight skims dresses.”

“you look fucking hot in it, are you serious? like shit, maybe i will just get you pregnant if you’re wearing that.” hamzah pauses for a moment, looking over at you while your eyes widen. “i’m joking. by the way.” you let out a soft “aww,” making a soft smile creep onto his face.

“you don’t have to tonight. i’m joking.” you smile up at him. “but i do miss the feeling of you inside me.” you can tell that you’re at least getting to him a little bit; he’s starting to get riled up.

“duh,” he says, jokingly, but his tone changes with his next words. “ill cum all over that fuckin’ dress if you really want me to.”

there’s the hamzah you were looking for.

he’s already pulling the car you two rented into the parking lot of your hotel, and you can’t even speak before the silence is interrupted with his own thoughts.

“gonna be all over you the second we get to our fucking room.” he mutters, opening his car door. as both of you get out, you can see the hard-on already somewhat formed through his pants.

you love getting him worked up like this.

checking into the room is almost painful. he stands behind you as you speak in spanish to the hotel staff, cock pressed up right against your ass. you’re stuttering as she asks you for your reservation, knowing you’re about to get fucking destroyed.

he wasn’t lying about being all over you. the minute that keycard clicks and the door is open, you’re being shoved onto the bed, hamzah crawling on top of you.

it’s a pretty hotel room - you’re taking it all in as hamzah is on top of you. huge bathroom, silky sheets, relatively good size, yet there’s one thing that sticks out to you. there’s a long mirror, placed at the side of the bed.

it’s the perfect place to get fucked in front of.

you don’t even think hamzah has taken a glance at the architecture around him from the way he’s locked in on your body. you feel his hands gravitate against different areas of your body, resting on your hips, grabbing the soft flesh through your dress. he places a soft, warm kiss to your lips, but continues with a harsher, more sloppy one. it only continues on your neck, biting and kissing down to your collarbone.

he keeps his lips in a certain place for a second, and you already know you’re going to be covering up dark spots on your neck tomorrow.

“pretty,” is all he mumbles when he pulls off, moving down to add yet another bite to your neck.

he pulls the top of your sundress down a little bit, straps going over your shoulders. it’s just enough to free your bra, which he pulls off even quicker.

his mouth is all over your tits before you know it - as expected. he’s sucking at them, licking at the nipple while the other hand fondles the soft flesh around. you can feel him getting harder against your thigh, which you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

you can tell he’s getting frustrated with how fucking tight his pants are getting, cock getting harder by the second. he quickly unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles - he’s a little too horny to take the effort to fully pull them down. when he pulls off his boxers he lets out a sigh, letting his cock free.

you readjust to do the same, pulling at the straps of your dress, but hamzah stops you, a large hand covering yours.

“want you to keep it on.”

yes sir.

you pull the straps back up to where they should regularly be, wearing your sundress like normal, just braless. hamzah takes a minute to catch his breath, but it’s hard when you’re under him looking like that. he takes in his surroundings a little bit more as he calms down, finally noticing the mirror to his side. you can tell by the look on his face that he’s got the same idea as you.

his focus lands back on you when he turns back to look you in the eyes, gently stroking himself. his hips roll softly into his hand, pumping himself loosely in his fist. he takes his other hand and pulls your dress up just enough to see your underwear.

he’s too lazy to get them off your body, so he just pushes them to the side, a finger sliding between the soft lips to your entrance. it emits a gasp from you, even though you were expecting it.

“you look so fucking good from here.” he says, breathy. your brows furrow for a second, confused as to what he means by ‘from here,’ but then you realize where his eyes are pointed -

- the mirror.

you turn your head to look at it too, and god, he isn’t wrong. the way his hands strain, groping at your thighs while he grazes against your cunt. it’s hotter than you had expected, the idea of seeing yourself get destroyed from multiple angles.

he presses a finger into you, and you flinch at the feeling. it’s not long before he’s sliding another one in with it, pulling at your hips with his strong arms to bring you down to his knuckles. you’re looking at yourself in the mirror as he does it, watching as he pushes you around like a toy.

he pulls his fingers out after curling them a few times inside of you, and you protest by trying to buck up your hips up again. he pushes on your womb with big hands, forcing you down.

“s’okay baby.” he affirms you in a soft voice. “wanna fuck you now.”

he grabs you by the waist, strong enough to pick you up with just his bare hands and flip you over. he presses your bodies close together once you’re on your hands and knees, your back against his chest. he nestles his head right above your neck, the perfect spot to whisper into your ear.

“look in the mirror,” he starts, and you immediately do what he says. “watch how fucking good you look while I touch you.”

your back arches as an instinct at his words, feeling his palms glide against your hips. your vision feels hazy, but you’re still paying attention to the way he clings onto soft skin.

you let out a whine, shutting your eyes and facing down when he touches your inner thighs, but it doesn’t last long. before you can finish his hand rushes to your jaw, grabbing your face, pointing your head back to the mirror.

“told you to look at yourself, baby.”

it’s hot, the way he’s in control of you, even if it doesn’t take much to get you to submit. he kisses at your shoulder blade softly, watching your desperate expression fade into excitement. he strokes himself one last time before the tip meets your pussy.

your breath hitches when you feel him slide into you, strokes slow. it fits in you nicely, the back of your thighs pressing against his when he’s all the way in. a finger and thumb caress the skin between your ass and hips while he bottoms out.

“c’mon baby,” he says, slowly starting to drag his hips in and out of you. “move those hips.”

you can’t argue with him, doing what he says on command. you roll your hips back the same way you roll your eyes, creating a rhythm with his thrusts. it earns a moan from him.

he grips your hips while his speed up, moving in and out of you with an unforgiving pace. it’s enough to send you reeling, squealing as you struggle to keep your focus on the mirror. you can barely keep your composure, the urge to shove your head in your pillow and just let him use you stronger than ever.

“wasn’t- fuck- lying when I told you I wanna come all over that dress.” he says, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you clench around him, his words driving you to your own finish.

you’re screaming a “hamzah! can’t fucking take it-“ while he’s plowing into you, building up a well-awaited orgasm. he waits until he feels that clench-and-pulse sensation around his cock, signaling that you’ve came before he pulls out.

he doesn’t even need to touch himself to cum after seeing you like this - he lets himself go, ropes of his semen covering the floral patterns of your dress.

he basks in the sight of you for a moment, catching his breath after his orgasm. it’s a lot for him, fucking you after being pent up the whole day. overstimulating, almost. you’re just that attractive to him, poor boy can’t control himself.

he lays on top of your chest, grounding himself. the feeling of being against you bare skin is comforting to him, a sense of home that you two both find in each other. you run your hands through the curls of his hair.

that’s what he is to you - home. just like how it feels to be here.

[dreamoonverse]

“Laugh through it sometimes…”

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky has had to cope alone with his nightmares until you arrived in his life. Little did he think laughter would do the trick.

Mentions: fluff, nightmares, laughter

(I’m exposing a bad dream i used to have 😂 thank you childhood nightmares 😂😘 hope this makes you laugh some)

Bucky never gets sleep, always waking up to no one there. The heavy breathing, shaking. He thought they would go away eventually but until then, he just had to endure. At least this time around, he isn’t alone.

It’s only been a month maybe since you two started seeing each other. You both like to explore, be curious about things. Found common interests like when he told you he likes forties music and you took him to an old antique shop you used to work showing him all records. He was like a kid in a candy factory seeing albums that he thought wouldn’t even exist still. You liked that he had this hidden part of him. He might look brooding and definitely can be. With you, he turned into a cinnamon roll and you loved every minute of it.

You would invite him over to watch movies or hang out he loved that he could fill up his days with you then be wondering around the city. A nice change. Although you two never really spent the night together, you knew he had a past, you didn’t know everything but no matter you couldn’t see yourself giving up someone as amazing as him in your eyes especially when he didn’t see it. This time you were at his place made a big fort in his living room which actually made him less embarrassed that he didn’t have a lot of furniture. You guys spent the whole day watching movies, talking, curled in his arms most of it. He just worried that if you spent the night you would see what happens and he felt like you shouldn’t.

You tried to keep yourself awake as long as possible but with the smell of his fresh balsam cologne and the warmth of his chest as it rises and falls when he breathes it just started to pull you under. You said you would let him take you home but by then Bucky was half asleep himself and you both just knocked out.

As the night carried on to the bewitching hour, Bucky once again found himself jolting awake sitting up, breathing heavy, sweating, shaking. He bunched part of the blanket in his hands zoning out. He heard stirring which made him jump but remembering you were next to him oh god you were next to him and the fears of not knowing if he hurt you in sleep made him panic more.

“Mm Bucky…you okay?” You say half asleep finding his arm rubbing it. “Yeah…i…Mm it’s nothing,” he sounds out of breath you sit up wrapping your arm around his neck rubbing his shoulder. “Hey it’s okay…you can tell me,” you say softly to him running a hand through his hair it was wet some from him sweating so much it made you pout seeing him get like this.

“I..hydra, the usual…” he sighs. You nod listening to him then eventually get up giving him some water to help. “Wanna hear a bad dream I had before…well I have a few but this one,” you sigh out.

“What was it?” Bucky rubs your shoulder. “When I was a kid i used to like watching the muppets like with Kermit and all of them sometimes with my parents.”

Bucky looks at you so confused “uh huh…”

“Listen it get worse okay, ya know miss piggy. Well I would have recurring nightmares of her tying me up and then standing in the corner of my room watching me I couldn’t scream she ducked tape my mouth and then I would wake up breathing hard crying,”

“What?!” He bursts out in laughter he can’t help it he hasn’t heard something so quirky before.

You laugh with him hard holding your stomach “Hey this is traumatizing okay,” you say in between giggles

“Yeah I bet it was…do you need to come with me to the next therapy session hm tell them about this incident,” he laughs tickling you hard. It did make him feel a lot better actually.

You both eventually calm down after a bit laying down again your head on his chest “I think I can spend the night more often now okay buck…you don’t need to be alone when these happen,” you say lifting your head up some facing him.

He was hesitant at first but nodded “okay…if I ever hurt you…you gotta tell me okay,” he says making a compromise. “Okay,” you say meeting his lips kissing him softly.

“And if you ever ya know get these dreams about miss piggy you let me know…” he says biting his lip laughing again.

“Screw you barnes,” you roll your eyes laughing a little kissing him more.

“Mm I love to screw you…” he smirks getting on top of you. “Bucky…” you groan laughing a little there was no way you two were gonna sleep now.

[themonochromaticcat]

Where were you???

>Pairing- Chapelle Roan x f!reader

>Genre- light fluff, one shot

>Warnings- alcohol, swearing?

Summary! - Roan and reader meet up in a café (by coincidence) after being high school sweethearts and realising that the feelings never left.

Notes- second person, but you’re following reader! Reader is a person of colour and ‘reader’ is used instead of a name. MIGHT BE CONTINUED ‼️‼️

A/N Haiii!1!1!1!! Anyways I love love love Roan and her music, so imma write a one shot for her, I’ll probably do more tho!

It was another boring, bland day: it was nearly half-past ten as you rushed through the busy city; almost struggling to get to get to your beloved cafe! It was a cat café, around 10 minutes walking distance from your apartment block, quite convenient as the city wasn’t really that big, still, it was the biggest for a local distance. It was nice, people from all walks of life were based here, though it was, sadly, common for racism to happen. After all, you did live in the traditional, part of the States: the south, a hotspot for racism towards people of colour. Still, it has gradually been changing throughout your life; In your childhood acts of racism were common, expected. Whereas now, it was unexpected, but you had gotten used to it, even if you believed that you shouldn’t have to.

Anywho, with a huff, you made it through the stampedes of the city to your beloved café, going to sit in your signature spot. It had gotten to a point where balls of fluff were already waiting on the soft, silky pillows for you. Though, once you ordered, someone else had sat there, disrupting your routine which had been carefully curated over the years, being perfected day by day. You were about to ask them to move, that was before you realised it was an old friend of yours. Chay-Chay. Otherwise known as Chappell Roan, well, that was what the books said or how she said it: the ‘Eugh… the no lifers’.

Chappell could feel the soft-worn leather couches fall slightly, and so a quick look made her realise that her old crush was sitting next to her, though, she knew that the feelings never left. A slight warmth spread across her face as she took a small sip of the milky boba she had sitting on her table.

“Hi…”

She took a small shaky breath before continuing, thinking through what she was going to say next.

“Where were you???”

A small giggle escaped your lips, the redness becoming more prominent by each second, as if she was a ticking time bomb.

“I never left, Chay-Chay, where were you?”

The tension was thick, the both of you could feel it, it felt like someone was looming above the two of you. Though, even that felt like an understatement; to be fair, it didn’t even feel that bad, it was more pleasant than uncomfortable. Pressuring is what it was, like you needed to make a move, now. Not soon, now.

“Touché, I’ve… I’ve been around. I made it you know. I really did.”

She sounded relieved, she had always said that she’d become an independent artist, and most importantly, make it. After all, what else could she have done, it was all she had her heart set on.

And so, the two of you got carried away, talking all about yourselves, and all of your experiences after high school, from the very lows to the very highs. It was clear to anyone who even looked your way that there was some things unsaid that the both of you would benefit from if they actually were said. Love is blind, that would the best way to describe the two of you at the moment as neither could notice the underlying love in the conversation at the moment. The sky started darkening, and you had come to realise that your whole day had dispersed into this singular conversation with the stunning woman in front of you.

“_____ that’s my number.”

“Ah! Thanks, do you wanna hang out some time soon then?”

“I’ll pay for the food, though, don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“…After all, I started this conversation up, didn’t i? And to answer your query, yes, gladly, Chay-Chay.”

You gave Chappell a quick wink before leaving, leaving her alone, just how you met her earlier.

You can see where I got lazy 😭 wtf I’ll probably continue this BUT no promises, love y’all ❤️🧡🤍🩷💜

[httpiastri]

hi jackie im back and im here to yap

also this entire thing is really disorganised (just a warning)

pepe’s 187 seems short?? 😭😭😭😭😭 also im pretty sure 187 is very recent bc this redbull driver database was updated early this year before the f2 season started (sorry ive realised how insane i must be to know this but i can’t tell if i agree with the measurements because sometimes i think pepe and ollie should be around 190?? minimally!!)

also the girl who edited pepe to guilty as sin is literally so sweet omg 😭😭 ill def make my own pepe playlist soon bc i need it for myself—don’t know if ill ever share it (although i do listen to so much international music from asia, europe, and literally everywhere else so it might be a pretty disorganised mess)

i saw pepe’s pics this morning when i woke up and i ACTUALLY screamed/squealed out loud and now i realise it’s the stubble/facial hair (i kinda think it’s way past the stubble point but regardless of what it is, i love it so so much)

omg also youre so right about liking when pepe shows emotions?? i love him being all soft and sweet but i also want to see him salty and upset and angry like idk i find it so very attractive when i am reminded that he is human?? idk if that makes any sense but i love it when people are raw and so so genuine with their emotions and i also love when he talks about stuff i barely know about because i love intelligence and i love him

and omg feeling guilty about not using the resources you have is so so real 😭😭 my parents are first gen immigrants and im the first child and so i feel so guilty because of how privileged i am compared to my cousins and stuff, especially since i live in one of the strongest academic countries but am still so lazy at times 😕😕 ESPECIALLY since ive had more opportunities than the average student academically because i was gifted but now im there’s so much guilt surrounding not going the mainstream and highest pathway BUT OMG your sport i completely forgot about that but don’t you coach kids or something?? i feel like i have a vv faint recollection of that because i used to follow you from my old blogs but i’m not too sure 🤨🤨 still isn’t it so cool how so many seemingly insignificant things can suddenly turn into such a big part of your life one day?? i find that concept so cool to think about all the time (like in my un-anonymous ask a while ago i mentioned what i was studying and… i used to be so invested in those themes? like it was never serious, i just dabbled in it here and now my career plans kindaaa differ from what’s expected in this field of study but its cool that im getting to experience what i used to imagine for fun and it’s also sort of led me to consider this career path that MANY childhood friends/people who knew me used to think i’d go into, even though i never once mentioned or even considered it)

i believe in karma too!! i think that if you are a kind person and do things with the best of intentions then that will be exactly what is reflected in every aspect of your life. i am also a strong believer that pepe WILL do well for the rest of this season, from this race onwards. i also have such a good feeling about monaco, and it’s not just because of all the pepe content that’s been put out recently… i think 🫣🫣

omg i remember you complaining (?? pls forgive me i have no other word choice rn) about how he didn’t get a penalty, and i also cannot remember if he did end up with a penalty… but i don’t think he did? so maybe he’s just serving unnecessary penalties from last year idk but it’s def his time now!!

and thank you so so much for always replying to my asks!! please don’t feel bad about replying late 😓😓 because it’s vv understandable if you’re busy and you really shouldn’t force yourself to answer asks when you’re tired! take care of yourself jackie, and i’m wishing you a lovely day tomorrow!! 💗💗

- 🪷

hello darling !!! very happy that you wanted to come and yap for me <3

SJDFHDK I KNOW ITS NOT SHORT BUT LIKE 😭 it seems short for him? like to me he seems like suchhh a long boyyo?? thoughhhh im just now realizing that he's taller than my older brother..... but okay let me explain my reasoning: in my head 187 isn't super tall because in the handball world (the world i live in), 187 is like kinda average? the guy i used to crush on is a little over 2 meters 😶 and he wasn't the tallest in the team 😶 but yeah tbh it seems reasonable that they updated it kinda recently. but pleaseeee update the f2 f3 websites ☹️

omg... if you do end up wanting to share it, i will definitely be obsessed...... i have been listening to ☄️ anons pepe playlist way too often to not be super embarrassed over it 😭 but like certain songs come on and i just catch myself blushing on the street because im thinking about pepe and... yeah...... 🙃 and omg don't worry about it being disorganised, a broad music taste is the best one 🥰

yeah it was definitely more than a stubble but am i complaining?? actually not (which surprises even me) 🥰 i currently have a very big obsession with just the thought of his stubbe/beard/whatever... just touching it? don't need to be shaving it? kissing him and feeling it slightly rub me and getting to jokingly complain just to see his cute smile and hear his pretty laughter??? y e s

" idk i find it so very attractive when i am reminded that he is human??" !!!!!!!!!!!! agreed 10000%!!! i love it when drivers have emotions that arent just happy or "well something bad happened, shit happens", and especially pepe. and idk it's something about the extreme contrast abt him? because when he's happy then he's so happy, big smiles and sweet giggles. but when he's upset.... 🫠 and omfg you're SO right about him talking abt racing stuff or yes just stuff i don't really get, because intelligence is SO HOT 😁 i could listen to him talk abt racing for hours and hours and never get bored

ahhhh i see i see !!! i relate to you sooo much... i made it through like all of my years of school just by luck and always managing to get good grades even though i didn't put in a lot of effort? but in my later years, as soon as something got a little hard or i didn't fully like it, i just bailed 😶 even though im so lucky to have all of these opportunities.... :/

but yes i do coach kids hehe 🥺 cute that you remembered 🥺 speaking of that, the fact that i became a coach in the first place was kind of just a coincidence aswell, and now six years later it's one of the biggest things in my life and i'll (hopefully) be studying coaching in the fall and just !! crazy how life works out sometimes 🥺 (the guy who brought me into coaching actually passed away recently and on his funeral i cried much more than i ever thought i would because i realized that i owe him like my entire life... idk what i would be doing today without him..... and he probably had no idea how much he changed my life 😭 idk kinda off topic but also not)... but yes it's indeed very cool!!! and like u said, like when people think stuff of/for you that you don't rlly think about yourself but one day you're just..... oh

yes yes 100%!! i love showing the girls i coach about karma, like whenever we do something kind and then get instant karma for it i'm like "girls look! we did a good thing, now we get rewarded!! 😁" (im making it sound like they're 5 years old when in reality they're 15 oop-), and this one time when i did something pretty bad we all got bad karma all weekend......... 😶 and ik this was aimed at the monaco weekend buT the next race!!!! a good result in barcelona will feel so much better now considering these last few rounds so im okay with this. i know it will happen 🥰

sjdghkdh complaining is an okay word choice because i was upset about a lot of things that weekend 😭 (though mostly during the sunday-) but no i don't think he got one either? it was probs the teams fault so im sure they got a fine etc? but yeah that could be an explanation 😭 100% about to be his time!!!!

thank you so so so much for sending me asks!!!! no but i will feel bad anyway because i do love writing answers but when i answer so late, it seems like i don't enjoy it? when in reality i love it so much??? idk i just feel so guilty and 😭 im so sorry. but thank you again for keeping on sending in asks!!!!! truly makes my day every time <3 take care of yourself too, hope you have a lovely rest of this week ❤️

[waynes-multiverse]

Multiverse News: Week 2

Greetings, fellow travelers! It’s your favorite hot mess speaking! 🖖

I already knew chances of me doing this weekly were slim, but I’ll be giving these Sunday updates as much as I can! Work was a little crazy the past two weeks, I already miss my vacation days, and my hopes of having an easier next week got crushed on Friday. Naturally, I didn’t have a lot of time to write and read the last two weeks, but I’ll share all the series I’m currently reading and the few WIPs I’ve worked since the last update 😊

I’ve also reached 800 followers (even after blocking a million porn bots 🤣), so THANK YOU so much for stumbling onto this blog and indulging in my little stories. I love and appreciate all of you more than you can ever imagine 😭🖤🖤🖤

I initially wanted to celebrate by opening requests, so I can thank you properly by writing some storylines you want, but since work is crazy and I’m behind on literally everything, I don’t think it’s a good idea for now. Hopefully, things will clear up soon and we can do something fun to celebrate this milestone together 🥳🥂

Currently reading 🤓

A Supernatural Journey by @eevvvaa​ Dean Winchester x OFC, Sam Winchester x OFC Author’s summary: After an unplanned event in their road trip, Emily and Eva crossed paths with two brothers. One thing leading to another, the two best friends found themselves in what seems to be a supernatural journey…

Green is My Favorite Color by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ Dean Winchester x OFC Author’s summary: Dean has been her hero from childhood, can she ever get him to be more?

Limelight by @talesmaniac89​ CEO!Dean Winchester x Journalist!Reader Author’s summary: The workaholic and media shy CEO of Winchester Inc, Dean Winchester, is forced to try online dating by his friends. What will happen when he swipes right on (Y/N), who is working on a series on online dating for her magazine?

Nightingale by @trektraveler​ Jensen Ackles x Reader Author’s summary: Jensen Ackles seemed to have it all. A hit television series fifteen years running, a budding music career and a stunning wife. To the casual observer, his life was perfect. But it was a façade. No more real than the supernatural world created on a soundstage. That day on the lake had started with uncertainty, but when he pulled you from the water everything became clear. The truth was, he’d been the one drowning.

That Simple by @avanatural​ Beau Arlen x Reader Author’s summary: Beau goes to Y/N, a new friend of his, for some dating advice. Is the charming new sheriff gonna get the date that he’s hoping for?

Mind Games by @avanatural​ Soldier Boy x Reader Author’s Summary: Set in 1984. It’s that time of the year – the supes are having the time of their lives at the Herogasm festival. Soldier Boy seems to have taken a special interest in Y/N, a fellow superhero.

Finished reading 💚

A Rose for the Snake by @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone​ Dean Winchester x Reader Author’s summary: Since he discovered the club, Dean’s been going at least once a week. Being a dom is something nice, it makes him feel powerful and in control. But is it really what he likes? Or is it the domme assigned to teach him the basics that tells him what to do?

Surrender Part 1 & Part 2 by @b3autyfuldisast3r​ Jensen Ackles x Reader Author’s summary: Reader is a PA on the set of Big Sky and falls in love with Jensen - who is married. Will she give in to her feelings and destroy a relationship or hide them and risk destroying herself?

Stoking the Flame by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ Beau Arlen x Jenny Hoyt Author’s summary: Jenny and Beau have been ignoring the spark between them for a long time. How much longer can they continue?

GO CHECK OUT ALL THESE AMAZING STORIES AND AUTHORS IF YOU HAVEN’T ALREADY! 🖤

Series Updates:

DBM: Currently reworking chapter 2. It was too funny and casual. Dean needs to be more broken and devastated. I’m going for that full heartbreak here. Tears, sobs – you shouldn’t be able to function when I’m done with this chapter. You’re welcome.

PH: Finished part 19 and realized it’s the longest of the series yet. Currently, it’s at 5.8k. I already tried to think of scenes to cut and while there are some I could live without plotwise, they’re hilarious and I don’t want to erase those laughs. So, should I split it into two parts instead or can we live with this? Let me know! I’m also halfway through part 20. It’s intense and pretty much follows an episode of the show, which I always found important, so I didn’t want to change too much about it, not even the dialogue. I hope I’m doing it justice in the end ☺️

⚠️ PS: In case you missed it, Part 11 posted yesterday and Parts 12-16 follow this week! Get ready! It’s a pretty wild batch! 🤪

Upcoming One-Shots:

Labyrinth: Started writing it this week for a request (the Wendigo hunt). Currently 1.7k words in. The beginning is a bit creepy because Wendigos were always the monsters that freaked me out the most (because they remind me of the horror movie The Descent and that one always scares me to death.) But Dean’s close to saving her and then there’s all the fluff you could possibly get 🥰

Mercilessly: Giving it the finishing touches. Was initially planning to post it on Dean’s bday, but my work schedule won’t allow me to finish it in time. My muse is also in a fluff mood apparently and not up for evil scheming. I’m as surprised as you are, guys...

[xxmolls]

I got a new poster! I’m probably going to put it in my kitchen, where I’ve got a somewhat gallery wall of other blue band posters.

I feel like Lucinda Williams’ music has always been a part of my life. Growing up in the 90’s with parents who were very into the alt-country music scene, Lucinda Williams’ album Car Wheels on a Gravel Road was a huge part of the soundtrack to my childhood.

I also did a deep dive into her catalog when I was first starting to write songs. I think her songwriting style greatly influenced my own songwriting style.

I read an interview she did where she said she realized a song doesn’t need a bridge necessarily … that you shouldn’t be tied down by all these supposed “songwriting rules.” I put bridges in most of my songs, but reading that sentiment by a songwriting hero of mine helped me to not be so rigid about the structure of a song.

I’ve seen her a bunch live over the years. One memorable time was in my hometown in June, 2009. I had just turned 19 years old (15 days earlier!) and was building what I thought and planned would be a lifetime career in music.

I met her after the show and got a picture with her. I also gave her a burned CD of some VERY ROUGH demos of some songs I had written. I cringe now because holy shit were those awful recordings. I really hope she didn’t by chance actually listen to those. Ohhhh the follies of youth…

The date of that show, June 2009 also happened to be very significant in my life, although I had no idea at the time. I had just started working as a summer camp counselor at a local summer camp in the mid-Missouri countryside a week prior. I was pulling ticks off myself every day, not giving it any thought (growing up in Missouri, I spent long hot summer days playing in creeks. I’ve probably gotten hundreds of tick bites over the course of my 33 years living in Missouri).

Judging by my illness timeline, I probably got the tick bite that would make me so incredibly sick and ultimately change the course of my life right around the date of the Lucinda concert (maybe even that exact day, who knows).

The next month, I would start exhibiting “weird, unexplainable symptoms.” First I would start getting horrible stomach aches with everything I ate. Next came the frequent “colds” and flu like symptoms, along with random eye infections.

By September 2009, when I started my Sophomore year of college, my symptoms would have progressed so much that I’d be unable to walk, talk coherently, feed myself, or bathe myself.

It would take until February 2012 for me to finally be diagnosed with Late Stage Neurological Lyme Disease.

Anyway, I’m not going to associate “getting sick” with my new Lucinda poster (or else you could sure as hell bet I wouldn’t put it in my kitchen), but it’s such a weird, cosmic thing to me that Lucinda Williams and her music have been such a big presence in numerous formative times in my life.

*

I am considering doing posts about songs I have written, memorable shows I have seen, etc. basically more music posts.

I have had my tumblr since early 2009, when I was 19, so it has been with me since before I got sick and all the way through to when I started getting my life back at age 30. In my tumblr’s youth, I was still playing lots of gigs and seeing lots of great concerts. I used to write a lot about my favorite music on here. I kind of miss that.

I have a bunch of new songs I have written that I’ve never recorded and I also have some recording time credits already paid for at a local studio. Maybe revisiting my musical past will get my ass in gear to finally record those songs.

Stay tuned, I guess.

[seylaaurora]

ok ur turn. top 5 ajr songs (do not feel the need to give big long explanations like i did lol im just insane. unless u’d like to be equally insane about it)

I cannot do this. I now see the error of my ways of asking you to do this ranking, cause it is just pure torture😆

Started to relisten to their first album cause it's the one that's least clear in my mind and... I already want all of them in my ranking and I know I like the Click, Neotheater and OK Orchestra even more... take pity on me😭

Let’s start with Pitchfork Kids! Absolute classic, absolute banger, delightfully weird in the way that reminds me why I love AJR. The song of their first album that stayed the longest on my playlist and the one that I always get back to being obsessed with whenever I listen to it. I don’t know what it is about this song. I don’t even think it’s one of their most relatable songs, probably not even one of their weirdest songs, it’s just... soooooo good tho. Legit one of THE AJR songs of all time. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it. They’ll never be able to produce a song that hits the same buttons Pitchfork Kids does. No one will be able to, it just holds such a special place in my heart and my brain.

Role Models. This always hits even harder listening to it after Woody Allen like I’m doing today (no one can tell me it’s not a direct sequel to that song, this is 100% partly about Woody Allen). The disillusionment of realising your (childhood) heroes are not who you thought you were. Your heroes letting you down is suuuch an experience of growing up. They’re not just heroes, but they are actual people and honestly, some of these people suck. The struggle of taking what your heroes gave you while leaving the people behind that gave it to you. To what extent can you separate the art from the artist? How do you go on, knowing the influence this person’s art had on your life, on the person you are today and the decisions you’ve made? How do you become okay with you having been shaped by something made by a person you so fundamentally disagree with? How do you keep that part alive while killing the part that is attached to that person? (I’m trying really hard not to write an essay but it’s not turning out so well)

3 O’Clock Things. Look. This song is ace. I don’t make the rules.

Way Less Sad. I haven’t seen a single person yet who didn’t think this song was super optimistic, but also kind of thought that was weird of themselves to think. It’s an “This is not happy, so it can’t be the ending” optimism. I don’t know if we’re just all not okay, or if it’s not actually all that weird to think it’s an optimistic song, but this song came out in February 2021. That’s what we were in. Stuff sucked. It still does. But we are, in fact, not dead yet, and I personally think it’s very sexy of us to hold on to hope. We’re not done yet. Things will get better. They just will. It feels a little like spite, and I’m okay with that. This song makes me want to go out and change my life for the better

Birthday Party. There’s always been some social commentary in their music, and while this isn’t even the most obvious one (looking at you 3 O’Clock Things), it’s just so delightfully ironic about it. Look, Role Models doesn’t hit for no reason. This song always felt like a promise to me. We won’t be them. I remember seeing a post on Instagram around the time about how people were apparently complaining that they shouldn’t get political in their songs and I always thought “who the hell did you think you were listening to?” AJR’s songs have always been about growing up, and while there is the things about how to navigate relationships with other people, looking at the state of the world and building opinions on it has always been part of growing up too. This song is about the innocence of a child who will find out about all the horrible things going on in the world at some point, and I, for one, find that incredibly relatable.

Okay, this got away from me XD

I think I could write an essay about each of their songs, and my top 5 ranking could change at any point. I also wanted to put Weak, Netflix Trip, Call my Dad and Burn the House Down on the list, but I can’t do 9 instead of 5😂 at some point it’s just too much😂

Was this insane enough for you?😂

Drop sth in my ask box if you also want me to do a top 5 ranking for sth

[lovemesomesurveys]

What are your plans for the day ahead? I’ll have some dinner soon and then just scroll through Tumblr and watch YouTube videos until I go to bed.  What was the last thing you cleaned? My hands. 

When do you go to your soonest appointment? I just had one this past Thursday and my next one is at the end of the month.

What did you last order online? Christmas presents.

Can you see any bottles from where you're sitting? Yeah, a Coke bottle and a water bottle.

What time do you usually try to wind down in the evening? I spend majority of my time in bed and trying to rest, but I guess winding down for me is around like 8 or 9 when I listen to ASMR or just watch TV until I do my bedtime routine around 1030. 

What's something you have been putting off? A couple things I shouldn’t be putting off. 

What restaurants do you frequently eat at? None. I get Taco Bell takeout just about everyday, though, ha. Not a restaurant, but that’s the best I got.

Do you like banana pudding with a lot of bananas or more vanilla wafers? My mom and brother make a delicious banana-y pudding and they add a lot of vanilla wafers as well. So good.

How many books would you guess you've read in the last 5 years? Maybe 100. 

What was the last message you sent? I texted my brother to ask him something. 

Have you ate anything green today? What's your favorite way to add greens to your diet? No. I like spinach and guacamole. 

When did you last light a candle or incense? Never because I’m a scardy cat. 

Is it currently warm where you are? No, it’s 48F. 

Have you ever fallen out of bed? Yeah, a couple times when I was a kid.

What do you like on your hot dogs or burgers? On my hot dogs I like ketchup, mustard, mayo, cheese, pickles, and grilled onions. On my burgers I like cheese, mayo, ketchup, and mustard. 

Are you currently listening to anything? Yeah, a YouTube video. 

What did you last put in storage? I don’t have a storage. 

What's your favorite thing to do outside? The only outdoorsy thing I like is going to the beach. 

Are there any celebrities that you are a big fan of? Alexander Skarsgard. 

Do you ever watch award shows? I like the music ones and MTV’s TV and Movie awards. 

Do you usually run out of shampoo or conditioner first? I only use shampoo, so. Do you have any LED lights in your home? Yeah.

What is your biggest challenge? My health. 

What was the last sweet thing you've eaten? Reese’s of course. 

Do you prefer buying new clothes or thrift shopping for clothes? New clothes. 

What is something you need right now? I’m getting hungry.

What's something you like that is blue? The ocean.

Have you treated yourself today? I mean, I’ve had a few Reese’s. haha. My aunt came down this past weekend and brought me more. 

Have you ever traveled alone? No.

What color is your most worn jacket/hoodie? Black. 

Who is someone you would like to get to know more? *shrug*

What toy do you miss the most from your childhood? Sigh, I just miss being a kid. I miss doing kid things.

Have you ever lost something valuable to you? Parts of my life...

What or who has impacted your life the most? My health. 

Would you say you are toxic in any way? I don’t think I’m toxic. 

What's one of your favorite memories from the past year? Last year was a really rough one...

How often do you use a straw? All the time.

What's your current favorite song? I don’t have a current favorite song. 

What are some books you'd recommend to someone? Check out AJ Rivers, Willow Rose, Elle Gray, and Mary Stone. The first author has a long going series that has several books and the others have a few different series with several books as well. If you’re into murder mystery/psychological thriller type stuff, check it ‘em out. 

[ambrossart]

DANCING WITH MYSELF

— PART FOUR

summary: eddie crashes senior prom hoping to steal a dance with his dream girl, chrissy cunningham. instead, he spends the night stuck in the women’s restroom with you—her snarky, insecure best friend. ❖ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader ❖ word count: 2,244 ❖ genre: fluff with some angst ❖ series status: complete ❖ warnings: no season 4 spoilers, some coarse language, body image issues, allusions to eating disorders, typical teenage insecurities, angst, jealousy, anxiety, secret crushes, childhood memories, happy ending, lots of 80s music one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten

He doesn’t know my name… Seriously?

It bothered you more than you cared to admit, Eddie Munson not remembering your name. You’d known the guy since middle school. You talked to him on a near-daily basis… okay, “talking” might be a little inaccurate; mostly you just made snide comments about him under your breath. But he always heard you. You know he heard you because he would always get annoyed and glare at you, just like he did tonight.

Between your sophomore and senior year, you shared a total of eight classes together, and you spent half of them sitting directly behind him. Were you really that forgettable? You expected that kind of treatment from conceited jerks like Andy Hauffman and Clay Howard, but you didn’t think Eddie Munson was that self-absorbed.

Now you felt hurt and betrayed… not so unlike Julius Caesar.

Et tu, Eddie?

You must have been wearing your disappointment on your face because as soon as you rejoined the group, the first words out of Jason Carver’s mouth were, “What’s wrong? Hey, did that freak do something to you?”

“Hm? Oh… no, that’s not…” You saw Chrissy staring at you with a worried expression, so you tried to wave it off like it was nothing. “I’m fine, really.”

Jason put his hand on your shoulder, gave it a small squeeze. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

He frowned, unconvinced. “Well, you should be careful around that guy, okay? He’s dangerous.”

You scrunched up your face. “What? Eddie’s not dangerous. I mean, yeah, he looks all mean and scary, but he’s really just a big geek. It’s kind of hilarious, actually…” You trailed off, letting your eyes wander back toward the entrance, where Eddie Munson was standing around all helpless and miserable, looking like a sad little puppy with those big, round brown eyes…

For a second, you felt bad about how you treated him, but only for a second.

You clapped your hands together. “Anyway, shouldn’t we be heading in? Get this prom party started? If the future king and queen don’t make an appearance soon, the peasants will surely riot.”

Jason continued to watch Eddie with a suspicious glare. Then he gave a faint nod to his friends. “Come on, guys, let’s go,” and he went up the stairs first.

You and Chrissy walked side by side, a few steps behind everyone else.

“What did he want?” she whispered.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

“Oh… He just wanted my extra prom ticket.”

She gasped, delighted. “And…?”

“And… I flipped him off and told him to go to hell.”

Chrissy cringed. “Ugh, of course you did… You know, did it ever occur to you that this might be your Pretty in Pink moment? I mean, think about it: Chance gets food poisoning, so you’re stuck going to prom alone, and now who shows up but Eddie Munson, of all people? You don’t have a date. He doesn’t have a date. I dunno about you, but to me that sounds like quite the coincidence.” She smiled a wide, positively sunny smile.

You scoffed. “He didn’t want a date, Chris. He wanted my prom ticket. It’s not half as romantic as you’re making it out to be.”

“Well, maybe if you talked to him like a normal person…”

“Hey, I talk to him.”

“No, you tease him. I know you think that’s the same thing, but it’s not.”

“Well, it’s not my fault. The jokes are just there, floating all around me. I have to grab ‘em or else they’ll die for nothing. And he’s such an easy target… everything he does is so over the top. It’s like he’s begging me to mock him.”

“Well, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

“You know, I’ve never really understood that expression. Why are you trying to catch flies with either of those things? Just get a bug zapper and fry the suckers.” Chuckling, you went to take the next step, but Chrissy grabbed your elbow and yanked you back.

The gravity of her demeanor was startling.

“Look, you’re running out of time. Is this really how you wanna end your senior year?” She raised her eyebrows, hinting at knowledge only she possessed. “Think about it.” Then she went up, leaving you stranded on the step.

Well, that’s easy for you to say… You’re basically a goddess in this school.

You glanced back to where Eddie had been standing, but he was already gone.

School dances had always been a sore spot for you.

Before tonight, you had only attended one school dance: the Hawkins Middle School Snow Ball in 1981. The night started out like a dream. You put on your favorite dress. You wore your hair differently, spent hours in front of the mirror getting it just right. The gym was decorated like a silver and blue tinsel wonderland, and you were having the time of your life: eating cookies, drinking punch, laughing with Chrissy and all of your friends. Then the DJ played your favorite ABBA song, and you truly felt like the Dancing Queen. It was magical.

But then the first slow song came on over the speakers: “Endless Love” by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross, and you felt the atmosphere… shift. It snuck up behind you and caught you completely off guard. All around you, couples came together naturally, drawn to each other from across the gym like magnets. One after another, they paired up without a word, and you were left stranded.

Alone.

Chrissy, being the considerate friend she was, asked Preston Bailey to dance with you. Yeah, Preston was a real Prince Charming. He looked at you in your favorite dress and just shrugged; then his arms sort of flopped out like two wet noodles. It was absolutely humiliating.

For the sake of your pride, you said no to Preston Bailey and his pity dance. And despite your pride, you spent the rest of the night crying in the girls’ restroom.

You’d never felt so unwanted and unloved.

And now, while you stood atop the balcony overlooking the dance floor, while Alphaville’s “Forever Young” droned on and on in the background, while couples swayed with their arms lovingly wrapped around one another, you felt all those old, ugly emotions come flooding back.

God help me, you thought, and began your slow descent into Hell.

You found your group’s table right away, beneath a sheer canopy of white and gold. It was draped with white linen, decorated with candles and roses, and set perfectly for six, everyone’s seat denoted by a pretty white place card. Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, Andy Hauffman and Heather White, Chance Gallagher and…

You picked up Chance Gallagher’s card and ripped it in half twice, then tossed the pieces over your right shoulder.

Jason pulled Chrissy’s chair out for her, and she thanked him with a smile.

“I’m gonna go grab a slice of cake before it’s gone,” Jason said. “Do you want vanilla or chocolate?”

Chrissy said, “Oh, no cake for me, thank you. My stomach’s still a little upset from dinner.”

“Oh…” Jason reached out and tenderly stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s probably just, you know, from all the excitement.” But when she looked at you, her eyes suddenly became downcast.

Jason frowned. “Well, okay… Y/N, what about you?”

“Either one’s fine,” you said. “I don’t discriminate against cake.”

Jason snorted a laugh. “My kinda girl… All right, I’ll be back.”

Once Jason left, Chrissy said to you in a quiet voice, “I really am fine.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, but I know what you’re thinking… and I’m fine.”

“Okay…”

And now Frankie Goes to Hollywood was telling you both to “Relax.”

You picked up a paper ballot and a tiny pencil. “Just don’t let the pressure of tonight set you back, Chris. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

You drew an X next to Chrissy’s name.

A short while later, while you were picking at the crumbs from your cake, Chrissy and Jason left to go greet some more of their friends. That’s when you spotted a familiar face at one of the nearby tables. You got up and went over to him, plopping down in an empty chair.

“Hey, Jeff,” you said over the music. “You’re looking pretty snazzy tonight.”

Jeff turned his head and smiled. “Well, look who it is… What brave soul asked you to prom?”

“Chance Gallagher.” You looked away. “But he’s dead now.”

“What?”

“He got food poisoning… I tagged along with Chrissy and Jason.”

“Oh… a threesome, huh?” He grimaced. “Well, that’s brutal.”

“Yup.” You stole a bite of his cake. “Hey, where’s your date?”

“Tara? She’s over there with her friends. I forgot to make dinner reservations, so now she’s giving me the silent treatment… Apparently, I ruined her prom night by making her eat a hamburger.”

You shrugged. “What’s wrong with a hamburger?”

“Right…? See, we should’ve just gone to prom together.”

“Well, you didn’t ask me.” You went to take another bite of his cake, but Jeff pulled his plate away.

“Umm, excuse me,” he said with a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m still eating that, you know.”

You smiled sheepishly and put his fork down. “Sorry.”

Then you leaned back in your chair and looked around for a minute, searching for nobody in particular. “So Eddie the Genius forgot to buy a ticket, huh?”

“Oh, you saw him?”

“Yeah, he tried to bum one off me… Naturally, I refused.” You folded your arms over your chest and went quiet. “Would you believe he doesn’t remember my name?”

“What?” Jeff drew away from you, dumbstruck. “No way… No, I refuse to believe that.”

“I promise you, he doesn’t. You should have seen the look on his face, Jeff. It was like I’d just asked him to recite the first seven digits of pi.”

“Really…?” He slumped back in his chair. “Damn!”

Out on the dance floor, the tempo picked up as the DJ drove into the next track: “Dancing With Myself” by Billy Idol. That’s when Grant came bursting out of the crowd and collapsed against the table, red-faced and sweating, huffing and puffing with exhaustion.

“She’s trying to kill me,” Grant said. “Oh my god, she’s trying to kill me!”

Behind him, Megan Mulrooney was bopping away to the beat and singing at the top of her lungs: “If I had the chance, I’d ask the world to dance… And I’d be dancing with myself, ah, oh, oh-oh, yeah…”

You smiled at Grant. “What’s up, Lord of the Dance?”

Grant bent his head and wheezed. “Shut up, Y/N.” Then he grabbed Jeff’s cup of punch and gulped the whole thing down.

While he was drinking, Jeff said, “Hey, man, get a load of this: Eddie doesn’t remember Y/N’s name. Can you believe it?”

Grant wiped his mouth with a napkin, then dabbed his forehead, too. “Yeah, I’d believe that.”

“What?” you said. “Why?”

Grant laughed a deep, sinister laugh. “Oh, come on, you know why… The Shrieking Queen’s Catacombs? Does that ring any bells?”

“No,” you said, but Jeff gasped.

“Oh my god,” he said. “’The Bargain from Below!’”

Grant nodded. “’The Bargain from Below.’”

“What?” You sat up in your chair, looked at Jeff, then Grant, then back to Jeff. “’The Bargain from…’ Oh… Oh, come on, you can’t be serious. Guys, that was back in middle school! He can’t possibly still be mad about that.”

Jeff said, “No, he’s definitely still mad about that.”

“Why?”

“You kinda ruined the whole campaign.”

“Yeah, but how? All I did was accept the demon’s bargain.”

“You weren’t supposed to accept the demon’s bargain!”

“But he was offering me the ultimate power…”

Jeff and Grant bellowed with rage: “YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO ACCEPT THE ULTIMATE POWER! IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE RHETORICAL!”

You threw your hands up, not getting it at all. “Well, if it was rhetorical, then Scottie shouldn’t have let me accept it in the first place. But that’s not my fault. I was totally playing by the Dungeon Master’s rules.”

Jeff said in a small voice, “Yeah, but you didn’t have to kill Eddie…”

“Well, the demon demanded a blood sacrifice.”

(What? You can’t do that! Scottie, tell her she can’t do that!)

(Actually, I think it adds an interesting dynamic to the story…)

(Dude, what the fuck? No, it doesn’t! It totally ruins the story. Now she has the ultimate power and she’s just gonna tank all the monsters!)

Jeff said, “Admit it, you did that on purpose.”

You held in a laugh. “Okay, fine, maybe I did… but I wasn’t expecting him to get as mad as he did. I was just trying to add some spice to the story, and he acted like I killed him in real life. Then he stormed out of Scottie’s basement and said I completely ruined D&D for him. Overdramatic much? Come on, it’s just a game…”

Jeff and Grant shook their heads in condemnation and your shoulders sank. “So, what, now you’re saying he’s totally blocked me from his memory? And all because of some stupid campaign that happened a million years ago? Please, that guy needs to get over himself.” You got up and stormed back to your table.

When you were out of earshot, Grant said, “I’m guessing we shouldn’t tell her about Eddie’s plan, huh?”

Jeff winced. “Not unless you have a death wish.”

____________________

PREV // CURRENT // NEXT

[capesandshapes]

Didn't You Know? (Post Reveal/Pre Relationship)

Summary:

Marinette is sick and realizes that Adrien has a secret to tell her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The music was loud.

Far too loud.

But she knew at the same time that she was drunk, far too drunk; so that might have played a part in it. Adrien sitting at the bar with girls surrounding him—draped on his shoulders and with hands on his knees— might have also played a part in it. Because she’s tired, and sick, and lonely; and he’s there like he always is, waiting to take her home, waiting to take care of her because he feels like it’s his duty.

Because he’s Chat Noir and she’s Ladybug, and he promised one day however many years ago that he would always take care of her. Now she has to live with that. Now she has to live with wanting him, but still not fucking saying it.

And just when her night seems like it can’t get worse, some guy dumps a pint of whiskey on the front of her dress and makes to clean it up, his napkin at the ready to blot it like this totally isn’t some pre-planned thing—

“Oof,” a familiar voice says beside her, placing his sweatshirt around her shoulders before she can even protest and pushing the hands away before the man can try to ‘help’. “Thank you for that, but she’s already taken care of, I think I’m gonna take her home.”

And immediately the guy, some big burly man likely in his thirties, is flinging accusations and acting like he knows everything. “And who are you to do that?” Like he wasn’t just trying to do something awful.

“I’m her husband,” Adrien says, flashing a black and green ring while throwing a cheeky smile over his shoulder as he pulled the two edges of his sweatshirt a little bit closer around her. “Happily married,” he mutters, his eyes softening as they landed on hers and he saw her pull the sweatshirt on to really sell the statement. He leaned forward to zip it up, throwing the man another smile, this one verging on a warning as he placed his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize,” the man began, blinking as Adrien made to herd her away.

“It’s fine,” Adrien said, his arm around her shoulders and his eyes staying firmly on her. “She’s going home.” In a stage whisper, he added, “you’re sick, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Which was only half because of the other man and half because she actually was sick, and he wanted an answer.

She had been wondering how long she could keep it from him that night, how long she could last dancing with Alya and accepting only water. Now that he knew who she was, Adrien had a way of seeing through all of her other disguises too. Like her telling herself that she wasn’t sick and trying to act like she wasn’t sick.

Even though a small part of her was afraid she might have caught the flu or been suffering from some sign of overwork…

“I’m going to get your coat,” he said, guiding her near the door.

“Are you also going to go and tell more people that we’re married?” She asked wearily, swaying on her feet.

He laughed, leaving a small kiss on her forehead that almost made her cross her eyes. “I tell everyone I’m married; it keeps them from hitting on me and technically I am…” He raised his hand, waggling his eyebrows at her, “married to the job,” he joked. “I’m taken in more ways than one.”

She wished she didn’t laugh, if only because it encouraged that type of thing. As his friend, she shouldn’t have been happy that he was sitting in clubs with his miraculous on his ring finger, turning away girls who could have been something to him. As his friend, she shouldn’t have raised the sleeve of his sweatshirt to her nose as he walked away, smelling the soft cologne that he’s taken to wearing instead of the Agreste branded stuff.

She really sucked at this whole being his friend thing. More so now than ever.

He reappeared with her jacket, her housekeys in his hand. He didn’t, of course, make any moves to replace the sweatshirt around her shoulders, just another addition to the list of many things that would always make her wonder about where she actually stood with him.

Alya always insisted that he liked her and was just waiting for the right time to say anything, but two years had passed since they’d revealed their identities and Marinette had started to doubt that. If it was more than a childhood crush, he would have told her by now.

Then again, she thought as she watched him wait for their taxi, she hadn’t told him.

***********************************

Adrien unlocked her door and hauled her stuff inside, Marinette following closely behind. He reached around her once she was safely inside, closing the door and locking it.

“I’ll stay on the couch tonight in case you need anything,” he informed her. Adrien was often overbearing when she was sick, a trait that he’d picked up from her once she learned that no one was really around to care for him when the boy was sick. It almost became tradition for the man to sleep in her living room whenever she was ill, another reason why she didn’t want him to know.

It was almost painful how much he cared.

That was the problem with the two of them, someday he would get a girlfriend or she would have another boyfriend, and they would tell him how weird this was, that he cared way too much for the young woman and she cared too far beyond reason for him as well. Then it would end.

She didn’t want it to end.

She wanted a thousand different things in her life, like to start her own fashion line and see the world, but she didn’t want Adrien to leave her.

She was in love with Chat Noir. How long? She couldn’t tell you. Before the reveal, probably. Before she knew that he shared those green eyes with the other guy who made her chest feel heavy and her breathing weak.

“You should shower,” Adrien said. “Are you hungry? We didn’t go out to eat this time.”

“I had a microwave meal.”

“You didn’t eat then,” Adrien proclaimed, marching into her kitchen. Ever since he learned how to cook one summer at Nino’s grandparents, he was a storm in the kitchen. He made food for her whenever he could, always watching her closely for her reaction to that first bite. It reminded her of her father in a way, that excitement to watch her experience new things and know that he was responsible.

She sighed, lumbering into the kitchen on exhausted legs and wrapping her arms around his back, burying her face into it and murmuring her thanks. “I love you,” she mumbled, such a common phrase from her that it always just slipped out.

“I love you too,” he stated, his hands wrapping around hers and giving a reassuring squeeze. “You can put on a new one of my sweatshirts when you get out of the shower,” he said, because eventually she had started a whole collection of them without thinking about it.

She nodded, bending over to remove her high heels before traveling further into the apartment. He was already at her feet by the time she’d managed to overcome dizziness and bend over, beginning the process of unbuckling her heels and tossing them aside.

She blinked at him, feeling his soft blond hair brush against her leg and immediately giving into the urge to touch it. Her hand wove through the back of his hair and he pressed a small kiss to her leg as he finished the last shoe, tossing them aside. “There,” he said, smiling up at her.

She really hoped he thought she was red from the fever.

Freed from her shoes, she felt the world blink in and out as she stumbled to her bathroom, turning the shower on cold to combat her fever despite her body’s pleas not to. She practically fell into the shower and she knew that he heard, rushing to the door as quick as possible. “I’m fine,” she called before he could so much as knock, blinking at the mixture of shampoos and soaps before her. When would she finally make room for Adrien to have his own shelf? She shook her head, tempted as always to see if there was some magic in his fifty-dollar shampoo, but settling for her strawberry-scented one instead. Adrien had teased her the last time she’d used anything on his recommendation.

Finally clean, she emerged from the bathroom, walking the short distance in her towel before ending up in her room. “It’s almost done,” Adrien said from the kitchen as she pulled on a pair of joggers and one of his old sweatshirts, pulling her hair into a sad attempt of a bun.

Deeming herself close enough to presentable, she moved back into the kitchen, steadying herself on the wall when he noticed her and his face broke into a smile.

“You didn’t have any chicken stock, so I made leek soup,” he said, gesturing to the bowls, one for her, one for him.

She nodded, grabbing the bowl and moving to the living room, scooting too close into his side when he settled on the couch beside her, flicking on the tv. He threw on the show they’d been watching recently, a bad soap opera about werewolves that had the sets falling apart around them. She let out the softest yawn when the theme music began, sinking further and further into him until he finally finished his food, placing his arm around her.

“When is she finally going to realize that he’s in love with her,” she grumbled. “I mean, they’re dating, aren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Adrien said, pulling the empty bowl from her lap and pulling her on top of him, the two laying together as the show continued to play. His eyebrows furrowed, concern for the characters showing on his face, “I mean, she has stuff at his place and everything.”

That didn’t mean anything, Marinette had things at Adrien’s place. She had more than one drawer, a whole closet even. “I mean, he said he’s in love with her, right?”

“Yeah,” Adrien agreed. “And they go practically everywhere together, people invite them as a couple.”

“And he sends her all these texts every day of things that she’s into!” Marinette complained. “I don’t know much about love, but that seems like it’s part of it.”

“Mhm,” Adrien agreed, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth. “Thank you for the recipes the other day, by the way.”

“No problem—” she began, and then stopped, her eyes sliding over to him. He still watched the tv with the same expression, not even giving what he’d done a second thought.

“I think he’s finally about to say it,” Adrien stated with a frown. “It’s taken long enough.”

But Marinette couldn’t focus on the show at all. All she could do was stare at him. “You almost kissed me,” she marveled.

He cast her a questioning look, looking over at her just slightly before turning back to the tv. “Do you want me to fully kiss you, or?”

Marinette straightened, using her forearms to jerk back from him, her eyes wide.

He blinked, turning around to look at her, his eyebrows furrowed. “Marinette?”

“You kissed me,” she repeated, deciding at the corner was good enough and reaching to touch her mouth with her hand almost absentmindedly, tumbling against his chest in the process.

“Yes?” He said, peeling her off him to look him in the eyes. “I mean, that’s what people do when they’re dating—”

Her mouth fell open.

“Marinette..?”

“We’re dating?!” She yelled, her eyes wild.

He immediately flattened against the couch, looking almost as shocked at the statement as she was. “Marinette, I have stuff at your apartment, you have stuff at mine. I cook for you, we have shows. We watched all of Naruto together. You tell me you love me every day, and I say it back.”

“But that’s—We—” She floundered, almost falling off the couch.

Adrien’s hand caught her. “Marinette, be careful, you have a fever—”

“How long?” She asked, slumping into his hand. “We haven’t even kissed—”

“To be fair, we have kissed plenty of times before and I just assumed—”

“How. Long.” She repeated, and she could see the pure terror grow in his eyes.

“Two weeks?” He said, quickly explaining, “I mean, I sent you that long text about how much I liked you and you sent me back that you would be lucky to be my girlfriend, any girl would—”

She gasped, almost falling backward this time before his hands plastered themselves to the small of her back, the young man sitting up beneath her.

“Marinette?!”

“You’re my boyfriend,” she said loudly. “Oh my god, you’re my boyfriend.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He frowned.

“But you tell people that you’re married—”

“As a private joke,” he corrected. “I also tell people that I’m taken, not as a joke.” His hands pulled back from her, his voice almost unsure as he asked, “do you not want to be?”

“Of course, I want to be,” she squeaked. “I mean, that’s like asking someone if they want to be rich, or have a room full of puppies, or cure cancer—”

The corner of his mouth rose in a smirk.

“It’s just that I didn’t know,” she finished. “I haven’t even kissed you. And now I’m sick and I have this boyfriend here to take care of me, and he’s going to sleep on the couch…” Marinette struggled to list everything else wrong.

Adrien didn’t give her a chance.

No, instead he grabbed the side of her face and pulled her down, pressing his lips against hers in a firm, inarguable kiss.

“Well, I don’t have to sleep on the couch…” he said as he pulled away.

[yutahoes]

Thunder

main characters: childhood enemies!? Yuta Nakamoto and Y/N other characters: brother! Lee Taeyong word count: 2.2k words genre: fluff summary: You hated Yuta Nakamoto all your life.  warnings: crotch kicking, Yuta is shirtless in one part, Y/N is in a diet, Y/N is scared of thunder, Yuta teasing Y/N about her chest, cursing inspired by the anime ‘Ouran Highschool Host Club’ 

Czennies’ Anime Boy Birthday Project - Day 2

You hated Nakamoto Yuta all your life. 

No, scratch that, you loathed him. 

It stemmed from when the two of you first met. He, 'accidentally' he claimed, ripped the head of your favorite Barbie doll. While you, intentionally you knew, kicked him in the crotch. It wasn't a big deal. You always see girls do that in TV but your dad had to ground you for doing that which is totally unfair. Yuta still gets to play with your brother, Taeyong, while you're inside the room when it was clearly his fault. 

And that started the cat and dog attitude you had towards each other. 

It doesn't help that your family is close to theirs. So when your family went to Japan for a vacation, the Nakamoto family welcomed you to their beach house. It was a pretty house, you thought, with an exclusive beach behind. 

This will be the best vacation. 

"Yuta!" his mom called which made you frown. Oh yeah, the devil is here. "Where is that boy? He should be helping you with your luggage, Y/N." You gave her a smile, dragging your suitcase in hand. Everything is going on smoothly, you don't want to see him just yet. "Yuta!" she called once again. 

"Yup?" He asked and you clearly heard the footsteps accompanied by that annoying voice. Your jaw almost fell in surprise. Yuta's hair is damp as if he just came from a swim. His bare skin lightly tanned. "Oh, hi auntie and uncle." He greeted your parents before walking past you. When did he get taller than you? He gave Taeyong a brotherly hug which made you pout. 

Your dad laughed. "When did you get so masculine, Yuta?"

"Had to charm the girls in town," Yuta whispered which made you frown once again. A ladies’ man. Why aren’t you surprised?  You felt someone tugged the suitcase in your hand and turned to see Yuta smiling at you. "You're still ugly as ever." he whispered, which made you throw a punch at him. Yuta only laughed. When did his arms become muscular?  

"When will the two of you ever change?" Your mom asked, followed by the others laughing. 

-----

"Yuta, why don't you tour Y/N and Taeyong in town this afternoon?" his dad asked while they're eating lunch. He nodded then lightly glanced at you who were eating small portions of your food. His attention was disturbed when your dad asked some questions about his college education and his recent hobbies which he answered eloquently. 

Taeyong took his dad's car keys to drive to town, Yuta in the passenger seat and you in the backseat. "Y/N," your brother called. "Stop thinking about your ex-boyfriend. This was supposed to be a vacation." You glared at your brother through the rearview mirror. 

"Ex-boyfriend?" Yuta asked. "Someone actually had a crush on you?" 

You gave him a fake smile before rolling your eyes, crossing an arm against your chest while huffing. "Can we get something to eat? I want some matcha cake and macaroons." 

"Are you pregnant?" You only kicked Taeyong's chair in annoyance. 

The market in town isn't that crowded even if it's afternoon. Maybe because the weather is too dry to stroll. Taeyong said that he'll just go to the comfort room, leaving the two of you looking for souvenirs. You already bought a lot of stationery yet your brother didn't come back. "Do you think he ditched us?" Yuta asked while you’re paying for the things you bought. 

"Probably." You answered with a shrug. "We can get a cab back home, can't we?" The guy nodded before opening the door for you. 

You were just enjoying the market, not caring about Yuta. Luckily, your parents had given you money to spend. Maybe you'll buy small gifts for your friends back home. Your attention was on some bracelets when Yuta told you to come with him. Although hesitant, you just went with him. 

The pastry shop looks so pretty with its pastel shades. The pictures in the menu look so delectable that you're quickly hungry. "Order a lot, you didn't eat properly earlier," Yuta claimed, looking at the menu. "Are you on a diet or something?" 

You glared. "Yeah, yeah. My ex broke up with me saying I'm fat so I'm trying to lose weight." 

"Then you're dating the wrong guy. It's your body, he shouldn't care." He turned the menu to look at the cake selections. "Eat lots and be a cute piggy instead." You stepped on his foot which made him glare at you. 

When the waitress came, she smiled at Yuta and he flirted back. You rolled your eyes, such a ladies' man. You ordered a chocolate cake and he ordered matcha, claiming that you wanted that in the car. Well, Yuta isn't that bad. But he's annoying. 

The clouds turned darker that surprised you. It was alright earlier, why is it so gloomy now? "Do you think it will rain?" Yuta nodded, there's a high possibility. "I hope it isn't a thunderstorm." You whispered. 

You walked around one last time, buying things that you might need at home when you bumped into someone familiar. He was Yuta's friend, you remembered, the one who talked to you in the playground when Yuta refused to let you join him and his friends back then. "Y/N," he greeted and you smiled, calling for his name. "Long time no see. You've grown up." It really has been a long time since you saw him. "Are you here for vacation?" 

You nodded and made little chats with each other. When he excused himself to leave, you turned to find out that Yuta is gone. 

Fuck! Where is he? 

When you glanced at your phone, the battery was dead. Another fuck! 

The raindrops fell on your skin that made you hiss. Third fuck! 

How are you going home now? 

------

Of all the people to meet, why does it have to be that guy? Yuta knew that he had a huge crush on you and seeing how you smiled at him, you probably had a crush on that guy as well. He just went inside the store and bought some macaroons that you kept on asking for since earlier. 

When he returned to where he last saw you, you're nowhere to be seen. Maybe you went with that stupid guy. He was about to call you when he realized he didn't have your number. You're with that guy, right? He'll bring you home safely. 

The raindrops fell. Maybe he'll just stay under a shed and wait until the rain stops. But as the minutes passed, it grew heavier. 

The sky was so dark and little rumbles could be heard. A flash of lightning can be seen followed by large raindrops falling on the pavement as thunder came rolling in. A thunderstorm. He might stay here for a long time. 

Yuta was tapping his foot along the music in his headphones when his phone rang, indicating a new number. When he took the call, it was Taeyong's voice. "Where are you and Y/N? I'll come…" 

"I'm not with Y/N." 

"What?" he asked, shouting through the phone. Yuta explained that he left you with a friend but it was his mom who answered on the phone that his friend came and you were not with him. "Yuta, my sister is scared of thunder. She can't move at all when she hears thunder. Please…" Yuta doesn't need to hear the continuation, he knew he had to find you. 

He kept on running under the pouring rain, asking people he passed if they saw the girl he kept on describing. He kept on looking inside shops opened to see if you were inside. The sky is getting darker, it's almost nighttime. He needed to find you, quick. 

A flash of light came followed by rumbles of thunder that startled him. If he's surprised like this, how would you feel? Maybe you're too scared now. Where could you be? He stopped in front of the town chapel, a puddle of water can be seen by the entrance. 

Yuta ran the steps of the chapel, opening the door widely. "Y/N!" he called. "Are you here?"  A bolt of huge lightning illuminated the place, followed by a loud rumble of thunder but he heard the small whimpers coming from the altar steps. 

He stood there, watching you under the table. Eyes closed, both hands on your ear, shaking, soaking wet. Another thunder and you jolted in surprise, crying louder while calling for your dad. 

He pulled the linen above the table, wrapping it on you which made you look at him. He put the headphone on your ear as you gaze at him with tear-stained eyes. "I'm sorry, Y/N." he whispered before you wrap your arms around him, relieved that someone is here. That he is here. You flinched when the lightning struck, loud thunder echoed through the walls of the small chapel that made you clench tightly on Yuta's shirt. "I'm here now, Y/N. I won't leave you." 

----

You woke up with the sound of chirping birds outside, the sunlight hitting your face that made you groan. When you turned to the side, away from the sunlight, you felt something warm. Surprised, you opened one eye and saw Yuta's bare torso lying next to you. "Yah!" you shouted, immediately checking your clothes under the blanket then pulling it up to cover your clothed body. 

The guy rubbed his eyes, "What? It's still so fucking early." 

"Why are you sleeping in my bed?" 

He stared at you dead in the eyes. "This is my room." He stated as a matter of fact and you glance around the unfamiliar room full of L'arc En Ciel and Ultraman posters. "And you were the one who didn't let go of me last night." He claimed while lying on his bed again, groaning.  

The happenings that night came to you. When his dad and Taeyong came to pick you up in the chapel, you kept clinging on Yuta under the warm blanket in the backseat of the car. After showering, you cried in his arms in fright. Maybe, you slept like that.

God, it's so embarrassing. Why are you like this? "Nothing happened, right?" 

Yuta chuckled before pulling the blanket to cover himself. "I won't ever touch your non-existent breasts." This guy, really. You lightly kicked him off the bed, startled that instead of his thigh, you felt something hard by your foot. 

Then he disappeared from the bed. 

He stood up from falling on the floor, glaring at you. "Why do you keep kicking me there? Will you be responsible if I can't have a child?" What? "If something happens…" You heard the door open behind you, "Will you marry me?" 

A gasp can be heard followed by your mom's voice shouting, "Honey, Yuta already proposed." What? You glanced at the doorway, his mom was there with a wide smile on her face. "Oh my God, you two. We've been waiting for this for so long." 

"No, it's not…" But the door closed before you could finish your sentence. You were about to go out the door when Yuta raced you to it. He closed the door, trapping you between his body and the door. "Yuta, our parents will…" 

"Let them misunderstand," he whispered that made you look at him. "Be responsible for me. I have the biggest crush on you since we first met." 

"You broke my Barbie the first time we met." 

"Because you spend more time on that toy than playing with me." he revolted. "You only look at me when I tease you so I kept doing that." He stepped forward, removing the distance between the two of you. " Please take a chance on me, Y/N. I'll hug you during thunderstorms. I'll let you eat all your favorite food. Just please, take a chance on me." 

There's nothing wrong with taking a chance with Yuta. Both your families are friends. Your mom seemed so excited at the idea of the two of you together. And his mom already said that they've been waiting for this for so long. He's handsome, has a nice body, has a nice smile, and did you mention that he has such a nice body? You nodded and he flashed his million-dollar smile, hugging you. "Wow, you really have small breasts." You lightly pushed him, kicking him in the crotch. 

"You're really unbelievable."

Yuta crouched on the floor, repeatedly punching his lower back. "That's the third time. You'll really be responsible for me." He stood up but you opened the door and ran outside, him chasing after you. 

Your parents were both looking as you got out of the house and into the beach sand outside. He hugged you from the back, lightly raising you. "Caught you." Then proceed to throw you in the water. 

"They look really cute together." Yuta's mom commented that made the older men nod. 

"Nice job, Taeyong." your dad claimed, tapping your brother's shoulder.

The younger of the five chuckled while watching you and Yuta playing tag on the water. "I just hope they won't be too lovey-dovey." 

[hannie-dul-set]

araw-araw [na jaemin]

(EVERY DAY)

part of “the puhon playlist” collection

SUMMARY | mahiwaga— someone or something that you’ll choose every single day no matter the circmstance. and for you, that was na jaemin. even if time decides to set you apart PAIRING | na jaemin x female! reader GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, college! au, romance, slow-ish burn, fluff, humor, tiny angst, biology major jaemin and art major mc HEHE WARNINGS | excessive swearing, insecurities, some sex jokes LMAO, i project a lot in this i’m sorry JSFJG WORD COUNT | 14.5k TAGLIST | @prettyjaems @lcvemark @shra-vasti @danishmiilk @probablygonnahurtsomebody @jccv @rebel-lious-alien @dalkomhanchocolateicecream @kthpurplesyou @fullsuhnshine​ @dejvns @nctzun @sweetjaemss @sehunniepot @wownajaemin @emoshishi @holywaterbetch @ukiyoneo @injunified @huangxx​ @jaehyunnie3​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​

a/n: HERE IT IS.... MY PRIDE AND JOY JHSFJSD gahh okay i’m gonna keep my rambling to a minimum but this fic is very close and very dear to my heart and if it isn’t obvious that i’m in love with jaemin then this fic will make it obvious LMAO

also do yourself a favor and listen to ben&ben’s araw-araw on loop while reading this!! adds to the ~vibe~ hehe

Five-thirty-seven in the morning, grey clouds stretching throughout the sky as you peeked outside the window, falling right above oceans and buildings and people that you couldn’t even see. You sighed as you sank deeper into your chair, closing your eyes and adjusting your earbuds to clear your thoughts that were brought about by your sudden move.

You felt a nudge from beside you, coming from your mother (your dad was long knocked out since earlier), and so you politely pulled the earbuds away. “Excited to come back to Korea?” she asked. You simply responded with a smile and hum.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like the idea of returning— it was the prospect that it did not even feel like you were returning in the first place. Indifference was what you felt. After moving to Los Angeles when you were twelve because of your father’s job, you had to say goodbye to all your friends living in your hometown, all the traditions and customs that you were used to, and all the memories that you have built up in order to get used to a new environment. Seven years later when you thought you were just about to fit in with the west, your father comes out with the news of going back to Seoul again.

So it was difficult to manage a full smile.

You had a thought as you looked down through the window, recognizing a few of the landmarks that stood out: how strange it was to have somewhere that used to be home feel so foreign.

Just as you were about to put in your earbuds back in, your mother suddenly brightened, looking at you with a large smile on her face, eliciting your curious gaze.

“Oh! Do you still remember your old friend Jaemin?”

A smile tugged at your lips. How could you forget him?

Na Jaemin. Nana. Jaems. Your childhood best friend for six years until you were forcibly shipped all the way to LA. You still remembered how hesitant you were to tell him that you were moving because you didn’t want him to cry— only to have you crying and refusing to let go of him until your parent's pried you off of him at the airport. He assured you while wiping away your tears that you’d still get to see him one day.

Maybe that day would actually be one of these days.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, fiddling with the drawstrings of your jacket. “Why? I haven’t been in contact with him for years now.”

“His mom and I talked the other day and I told her that we’re moving back! And just earlier, she told me that Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport so we won’t have to take a cab. Isn’t that great? You’d get to be reunited with your old friend again.”

“Ah,” you paused for a moment, in thought, just before pressing your lips together into a tight smile. “Yeah, it would be nice to see him again.”

That was what you said, but even until you left the plane, lugging your baggage across the cold floors of the airport with your music at full volume to drown out the noise, you were actually rather conflicted about meeting him again. A lot could happen within seven years, and therefore there was no assurance that things would still be the same. You weren’t sure if he’d still be the same sweet boy that was determined to fight the park swings after you fell and cried, if he’d still be the same kid that stopped talking to you for three days because you tricked him into eating a strawberry flavored lollipop. Maybe he’d still be, maybe he wouldn’t, but it was exactly that uncertainty that made you feel uneasy.

Still, there was still a hint of excitement, a string that tugged your heart away from all the uneasiness, just enough to bring a smile to your face at the thought of seeing him again.

“Y/N, let’s go?”

Your father called out to you and you didn’t even realize that you have actually stopped walking amidst your musings.

“Oh, yeah I—” you stumbled in between the ever moving airport crowd, looking down to see your shoelace had become undone, and so you let go of your suitcase. “You two go ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec!”

You ducked down, right beside the large, grey case to fix it, lips pursed in concentration. People passed by without minding you too much, but at one instance, just as you had finished retying your shoelace, your suitcase moved away from you with a shadow looming from above. Panic struck, and so you jolted up, instincts forcing your hand to move, quickly grabbing the handle. There was another hand resting on it. Your eyes moved up to meet with the culprit's.

Weirdly enough, he was just as shocked as you are.

Even weirder— he looked way, way too attractive to be a thief. Or maybe that was the modus these days? Still, you harshly dragged back the suitcase, ripping it away from his grasp with a glare. “What the fuck—”

At that moment, you recalled your mother’s words. Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport. This guy looked a little too much like your old friend from your old neighborhood.

It felt like you were looking into the exact same large, dark eyes that used to be always accompanied by a pretty smile, now matched by a mouth hanging slightly agape from surprise. He even had the same dark hair that always messily fell over his eyes. There was a moment of pause in between the rush of bodies, the both of you in a frozen trance staring at each other until you had finally realized that motherfucker— this was Na Jaemin.

When did he get so hot?

“I—”

He flashed you a smile. The same damned smile. It brought you to the conclusion that seven years really didn’t do anything except make him far too attractive for his own good. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious about your own appearance as you gawked at him. God really liked to play favorites, huh?

You could see him say something, his lips moving just enough to represent a few words, but it was muffled thanks to the blaring music. Your confusion reflected clearly on your face contorting, and Jaemin only shook his head and laughed before reaching his hands to your face, bringing you to a momentary halt of haywire because what the actual fuck was he doing.

“You shouldn’t listen to music too loudly in public,” he said, pulling your earbuds out of your ears and gingerly placing them into your open palms with a smile. Holy fuck, his voice got so deep. “I’ve been calling out to you since earlier, but you couldn’t hear. Let’s go, your parents are waiting.”

Before you could even try to recollect yourself from the sudden crashing of events, Jaemin took your suitcase in your stead, leading you to his car.

If you still weren’t sure whether or not this was Na Jaemin from your past, you were now because although a bit watered down, he was just as excessively weird and sweet as he was ages ago. You found yourself feeling stupid for even doubting it in the first place. Of course, he was still the same; he even chirps your name in the same way as he always did before.

“There we go,” with a huff, the trunk came to a close. He threw your suitcase in there after seeing your mini struggle episode with far too little effort for your peace of mind. “You should just ask me next time. Okay, Y/N?”

“Thanks,” you gave him a small nod, flustered when he pinched your left cheek while making a questionable noise, and he opened the car door for you to enter.

Maybe it was you that had changed.

You were fairly quiet throughout the car ride while your parents and Jaemin decided to catch up after everything, only listening and giving your reactions whenever needed. You weren’t a morning person and your jetlag wasn’t doing you of any help either.

“You’re in your third year, right Jaemin?” your father asked, sitting at the front seat as your mother and you sat behind.

“Yep, yep,” he happily replied.

“Time really does fly fast, doesn’t it?” your mother joined in. “What uni do you go to, Jaemin?”

“Ah,” he sounded, eyes still directed on the road. “NCT U. It’s the closest at home, and I didn’t really wanna move out.”

“Oh, what a coincidence! Y/N isn’t that where you’re planning on going, too?”

“Really?” you could see Jaemin’s eyes brighten from the mirrors. “Y/N, do you want me to help you with your requirements? Have you enrolled already? I can give you a tour if you want!”

He’s really the same. You thought, smiling. “It’s fine, Jaemin. I already enrolled and took care of everything online.”

“But I should still tour you, though!” he retorted, the pout and whine evident in his voice. “The campus is really big so you might get lost. Ah, but aren’t universities in the States much bigger? I can also introduce you to some of my friends if you like.”

Jaemin went on for a while, telling your parents not to worry and promising that he’d take care of you throughout your college life here in Korea despite your protests that you could very much take care of your own self. Eventually, your mother asked about his major, and his animated expressions dimmed down into a slight bashfulness after answering that he was taking biology. You joined the conversation upon hearing that. “You said back then that you wanted to be a surgeon, right?”

With a shy smile, he nodded, and at that moment you felt a rush of awe for your childhood friend. Your parents seemed to have reacted the same way seeing as he was growing a little more embarrassed. It was amazing how he held on to the same dream he held since he was a kid— the amount of passion and dedication he must have for it. You on the other hand—

“What about you, Y/N?”

You jumped at the sudden subject switch. “Oh, I’m—” a pause in your statement. “I’m… taking an arts course.”

“Wow! As expected, Y/N is as cool as always,” he doted, which caused you to flush.

“It’s— it’s not really that amazing, it’s just the only thing I’m kinda good at so—”

“No, no, no. Y/N, you shouldn’t say that,” he scolded, clicking his tongue while his hands remained on the wheel. Your mother was beside you yet he was the one doing the mom nagging. “Who is that again? Bob Ross? Leonardo DiCaprio? You’re gonna be much much much better than them someday, I just know it! I have something called Nana vision, you know.”

You stifled a quiet laugh, not having the heart to correct him that it was not DiCaprio. “Does your Nana vision also see that we’re already almost at the complex?”

“Oh!”

At your words, Jaemin’s attention was now a hundred percent back on driving, profusely apologizing for getting distracted. You could see his ears slightly reddening from your seat which lasted until the end of the drive. Jaemin helped your family carry everything to your apartment on the eighth floor, even volunteering to help you unpack. Your mother firmly declined, however, insisting him to take a rest after all his help, but she did invite him and his parents over for dinner tomorrow. A little reunion of sorts.

“Six in the evening, right?”

“Yes. You should head back home now, Jaemin. Thank you for everything.”

He shot a bright smile before readying to march outside. “We’ll be here by five!”

She laughed at him, shaking her head, and proceeded to look for you inside the mess of the living room. You were about to disappear inside your room, luggage in hand to unpack, but she quickly dragged you back by the ear. “Go see him out the door!” she whisper-yelled, and so you did. Fortunately, he was stopped by your father before he got to leave, so you took this opportunity to smoothly stride beside him as he slipped past the door when he said goodbye. The door clicked to a close. He raised a brow at you.

“Mother’s orders,” you answered.

“So you wouldn’t have gone out if she didn’t tell you to?” he huffed, pouting. “And I was really happy to see you, too. I think I might have to take that back.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing, and eventually you made it to the end of the hallway. “Too late. You can’t take back your happiness. It’s good to see you again, Jaemin.”

The both of you stopped right in front of the elevator, and you waited for him to depart, but he didn’t. He had his arms crossed over his chest, accompanied by an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite tell if it was hurt, disappointment, or offense. Probably all three. Definitely all three.

“What? are you putting up a wall between us? Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?” he groused, nose scrunching. “What happened to Jaems? Nana? Y/N, you’re seriously hurting me over here.”

Laughing at the way he was sticking his frown right into your face to prove his point, you playfully shoved him off, pushing him into the elevator after all of his complaints even though he was the one moving his feet, anyway. You missed him, that much you could conclude, therefore you decided to stop his whining just before the elevator doors came to a close.

“See you tomorrow, Nana.”

You grinned, not missing the way his eyes lit up in between the small gap. You really did miss him, and you were lucky enough to have him as a small memory to remind you that this place was indeed home.

Maybe it wasn’t just Jaemin that you had missed. The entire family was just a smack in the face of early childhood nostalgia that you nearly cried (thank god you didn’t) when Mrs. Na buried you into a bone crushing hug the moment she saw you when you opened the door. You were really happy to be back— even when you weren’t exactly sure before.

“Mom, I think you’re suffocating, Y/N,” Jaemin pointed out as he left his shoes in front of your doorstep, walking inside with his father following behind him.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t believe that this is you!” she coddled, and somewhere in between Jaemin found himself beside you. “I think I have pictures of you two when you were younger, hold on—”

Mrs. Na was pushed forward by her husband as she dug through her phone for a decade old Facebook posts of you and Jaemin (you hoped she wouldn’t remember you had an entire album). The older man ruffled your hair as he passed by with a fond smile, disappearing into the dining table where your parents were preparing and leaving you and Jaemin behind.

He was looking at you. Questionably so.

“What?”

“It’s not fair,” he whined. “I didn’t get to hug you yesterday.”

Oh my god, you shook your head, grabbing the sleeve of his mint jacket and leading him to where your parents were to help. “You’ll have more opportunities, you loser. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Jaemin was speechless for a moment as he let you drag him along, but a happy smile broke through and he matched your steps halfway.

“Yeah,” he agreed. You weren’t going anywhere.

Dinner followed the usual sequence of events: reminiscing about the past, asking both parties what they have been up to, and of course talks about the future. During the meal, Jaemin asked when your classes were starting (next week), and he proposed his promised tour to be held this Tuesday— two days from now— because he didn’t have a lot of classes that day. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, neither did your parents, so you ended up agreeing.

Unfortunately for you, your mother pulled out the ancient photo album of the past right after dinner, and the stark contrast between yours and Jaemin’s reactions were also album worthy. By the end of it, you were sure that smoke was emitting from your ears because your good friend had an affinity with screaming over how cute you were, even going as far as stealing one of your baby pictures right before they decided to make their leave.

“Ah, ah,” he pulled the photo away the moment he sensed your attempt of theft. You two were standing right in front of the open door, his parents already having left ahead. “I’m keeping this. You look so cute here.”

“How am I so sure you won’t blackmail me with that!”

An offended gasp. “I would never,” he took out his phone, inserting your picture inside his colored phone case with you watching his every move. “It’s for me to see only, so you don’t need to worry.”

You looked at him. Then to the phone that he was holding up with a confident smile. You let out a sigh.

“Fine,” you begrudgingly relented, and he waddled over to you with a big smile on his face to envelop you into a hug. He smells nice, you thought, reciprocating the embrace. Wait, isn’t this my perfume? That would explain what he was doing inside your room earlier. You could only sigh inwardly let him keep on hugging you. He was whining about it earlier, after all.

It lasted long, maybe a bit too long because his dad came back to fetch him.

“Mhm, you can trust me with anything, Y/N,” Jaemin mumbled before finally pulling away, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he did. “Anyway, before I go— should we exchange phone numbers?”

Tuesday came by, and you were met with two realizations. Both of which made you feel very very small in comparison.

One, NCT U was really freaking big.

Two, Na Jaemin was really freaking popular.

Granted, he had only shown you around the STEM department, but with every turn that you took and every hallway that you passed through, there was least one person that stopped by to say hi to him. Even some of the teachers were close with him. You should have expected it considering he was literally nice, smart, handsome, and everything you could ever ask for, but it still made him feel just a tiny bit out of reach.

“Are you feeling tired?” he asked, breaking away from a conversation with a senior. He put a hand over your shoulder with concern that reflected in his eyes. “We can take a break around the benches if you want.”

“Yeah, sure. After you—”

“I’ll talk to you later, hyung. See you around.”

Jaemin waved off his older friend, Yuta, you had overheard, and proceeded to lead you to the aforementioned area on the ground floor before stopping by a vending machine to get some drinks. You pressed your lips together, feet shuffling as you waited behind him, and then you finally decided to speak. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked, slotting in a few coins into the machine.

“You— you with your friend,” you fumbled, trying your best to speak your mind, but how were you supposed to say ‘cut your conversation short with your friend because of me’ without seeming like a total headass? You could have waited until they were finished.

With a soft smile, he passed a canned, carbonated drink into your hands— lemon, you read— and took one for himself. He didn’t answer your incomprehensible question and decided to walk across the field leading to a bench area, but you were sure he got what you were trying to say. He simply chose not to answer. Or did he? Hell, you didn’t even know anymore. Annoyed, you decided to gulp down the drink in one go to distract yourself, even when the bubbles stung your throat. Jaemin stared at you in horror.

“Were you that thirsty? You should have told—”

“Na Jaemin!”

In sync, your heads snapped towards the direction of the ear-ripping screech, which was quite coincidentally where you two were headed. There were two boys sitting on a bench, one more on the table with a guitar. You assumed that it was one of them that screamed out your friend’s name— probably the one that was making eye contact with him before dramatically turning away with a butchered sob.

“Na Jaemin! Traitor of the brotherhood! I remember when he would still come running the moment I call his name but now— forgotten for dust! He doesn’t care about us anymore, Renjun. He even has a new—”

“What are you on about this time, Haechan?”

Haechan’s evidently fake sobbing stopped, pushing away the boy that he had just been crying into moments prior. “Oh you’re here,” he deadpanned.

It was almost horrific how three pairs of eyes immediately zeroed in on you as you meekly hid behind Jaemin, causing the hairs at the back of your neck to stand as if you were about to die in a fucking horror movie. You could tell from that alone that despite having many friends, these guys were probably his closest— whether it was better or worse, you had no idea. All of a sudden you were dawned with the intimidating task of trying to get them to like you, which was already way too out of reach because the one with the guitar was practically ripping you to shreds with his eyes alone.

“Please stop trying to scare, Y/N. Jeno, you might actually make her cry, stop that.”

“Whoops,” Jeno stopped his death staring. “Hyuck initiated it.”

“Actually it was Renjun, but whatever,” before Renjun could even bite back after being falsely accused, Haechan had already blocked him off and had directed his attention towards you, legs crossed and a critical gaze. “Fuck formalities. Y/N, right? Who are you and why are you trying to steal—”

“Alright, no more scare tactics. Y/N, there are my friends, Jeno, Haechan— or Donghyuck, whichever you prefer, he doesn’t mind— and Renjun. They’re just trying to mess with you, don’t worry. Friends, this Y/N L/N, my childhood friend for like four, five years before she left Korea and moved to LA.”

The term childhood friend lit a spark within the three boys, but before they could do or say anything dangerous that would jeopardize your relationship, Jaemin the ever popular boy was called out by a group of girls. He excused himself to leave for a moment, but not before apologizing to you a million times over (“If you’re really sorry,” Renjun chided before he ran off. “Treat us and Miss Y/N to Kun’s, yeah?”). He agreed without even hearing him properly, and now you were left with his three friends that felt more like three sharks that circled around you. They were fucking out for blood.

“So,” the moment Jaemin disappeared from the parameter, Haechan pulled you to the bench in between him and Renjun with a devilish grin. “Childhood friend, huh?”

Your eyes snapped over to Renjun who was on your right to ask for a way out of this, but the guy was busy filming the entire thing on his phone. Why did Jaemin leave you behind? You had no chance of escaping. Haechan locked you down by swinging his arm around your neck just as you were about to stand. He signalled at his friend who was sitting on the table. “Jeno, drop the beat.”

There was a moment of miscommunication in between because instead of dropping the beat like Haechan asked, Jeno started strumming a sickeningly sweet tune on his guitar. Or maybe that was what he intended. Either way, Haechan was flexible enough to go along with it.

“You know what they say about childhood friends,” another strum. Haechan sang. Was this a fucking oration? “You either end up forgetting each other, hating each other, or you end up toge—”

“That is not—”

“Hush!” he silenced. Renjun was losing it at the side. So was Jeno, because the guitar tune was long replaced by fits of strangled laughter. “It is, clueless Y/N. It is. How many childhood friends have you met that stayed as childhood friends? None, I assume. I’m never wrong, you see.”

“Weren’t you and Mark childhood friends, too—”

“Shut the fuck up, Huang. This isn’t about me. Y/N, listen.”

Grabbing your shoulders, Haechan pulled you away from Renjun, the sudden movement nearly giving you a whiplash.

“From my expert calculations, you and Jaemin are undeniably going down route three, but the both of you are moving at an agonizingly slow pace, correct?” you stared at him, wide eyed, and he was staring right back. “Correct! Now, in order to speed things up a bit, all you have to do is follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your Childhood Friend Into—”

“Isn’t this the same guide that ruined your—”

“I said shut the fuck up!”

The two ended up quarrelling and you ended up being forgotten. You weren’t sure whether to be thankful or be offended. Jeno shot you a look of remorse on behalf of his friends, bringing you to the conclusion that this must have been a normal occurrence. Your eyes shot towards the sky, clouds covering the sun just enough so you wouldn’t be blinded, ears picking up the argument occuring that went back and forth on both of your sides. They’re a lively bunch, you breathed out, a subtle smile on your face.

Eventually Jaemin showed his face again, jogging over to your group and you greeted him with a beaming grin. “You guys seem to be getting along,” he said the moment he stopped before you.

“Oh, Romeo returns,” Renjun decided to stop picking a fight with Haechan. “Where’d you get dragged off to this time?”

There was silence, all four sets of eyes heavily sparked with curiosity as you waited for Jaemin’s response, but the boy was rather hesitant. “Well—” he fumbled, a faint baby pink blush powdering his cheeks. Sheepish, he continued. “Someone confessed to me.”

The first person that reacted was Jeno, who released a loud snort and scooted a little more forward. “Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” Jaemin indignantly refuted as he continued to be teased by the other two boys, the remaining uncharacteristically not joining in. At that very moment you could feel Haechan looking at you, a gaze that you couldn’t quite put a finger on but it was enough to shoot him a glare back.

“Who was it? Is she pretty?” you chose to ignore the annoying male beside you and decide to focus all of your interest and attention on Jaemin instead.

“Jiah,” he mindlessly answered, pushing Haechan to the side so he could sit next to you. “From nursing? I think?”

“Dude,” you turned your head to Renjun. “Kang Jiah? Holy shit, that’s crazy.”

Noticing the lost look in your eyes, Renjun proceeded to explain that not only was the alluded Kang Jiah arguably the prettiest in her department, she was at the top of her class too. You didn’t understand which part about that was crazy because for you, that was exactly the kind of person that Jaemin was destined to end up with. You wouldn’t be surprised if they do become a thing— well, there was only one way to find the answer to that.

“Well, what did you say? You said yes right?” you asked him, looking forward to his answer.

“Oh,” he shrugged. “I turned her down.”

What?

“Of course,” Renjun scoffed, shaking head with his arms crossed. “Only you would turn someone like Jiah down. At this rate you’ll end up dying an old hermit.”

“You have a crush on her or something?”

“Pff— no? I just think she’s pretty,”

“You’re not fooling anyone, dumbass. Come over here, I’m gonna squeeze it out of you—”

While the two quarrelled again in the middle of the field with Jeno being the one filming this time, you remained frozen in your seat, somewhat surprised. Huh, you blinked, wanting to ask him why he turned her down but frankly it was none of your business. You turned your head to face him. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to turn into such a heartbreaker, Jaems.”

He clicked his tongue, face scrunched into a bitter look of disapproval as reached out to mess up your hair. “Stop thinking weird thoughts,” he scolded. “Instead, why don’t I finally take you to the art building?”

Your eyes immediately lit up after the mention, and he stifled a laugh at your reaction, patting your head once more before sneaking off without the other three’s knowledge.

Jaemin’s tour of the whole campus actually deemed to be pretty useful because after three whole weeks of going to NCT U, you’d only gotten lost seven times— pretty remarkable if you do say so yourself. Within those three weeks, you had actually expected that your old childhood friend would leave you off on your own once you got used to everything, but no. He tried his best to meet you in between classes even though your buildings were nowhere near each other, and the times when he couldn’t, he’d never failed to call or text you. “I promised your parents!” he reasoned, but you weren’t sure if that promise included asking you if you’ve eaten breakfast every morning.

“Breakfast?”

You repeated into the phone as you and your recently made friend Soorim walked to your Visual Studies class. You’d met her during your first week and the both of you immediately hit off. It was nice to have someone else other than Jaemin and his friends, but of course you appreciated their company, too.

“I, uh, actually haven’t eaten— no wait! Before you nag me, I have a valid excuse, okay!” Soorim gave you a sidelong glance, curious and suspicious over your loud phone call so she tried to lean her ear closer to the device but you quickly evaded without even looking at her. “Listen, I was in a hurry to school! I actually planned on grabbing a bite on the way but I… forgot my wallet because again, I was in a hurry and— no, shut up, you don’t have the right to scold me for this, too! You literally left your report at home yesterday and I had to walk all the way back to save your butt so you’re no better, Mr. Na.”

Without even realizing, you were already in front of the doors to your classroom, and so you hurried a goodbye to Jaemin just before you and Soorim took your seats at the near back.

“Alright, I’m in the classroom now. See you later. Yes, I’ll eat after, yes, I promise to double check my wallet from now on. Bye.”

The moment you settled on your seat, setting your phone and backpack aside, Soorim swiveled her chair to face you, legs crossed, hands resting with poise on her thigh, and she batted her eyelashes expectantly. You ignored her, twisting open your water bottle because it was the only thing you had that could somewhat silence your crying stomach.

“So,” she started anyway. The bottle opening was hovering over your lips. You narrowed your eyes at her. What the fuck was she doing. “When are you introducing me to your boyfriend?”

You choked while drinking.

“Boy— what,” with a grimace, you ripped away the bottle from your face, slamming it down on the table. You looked at your friend in disgust. “If I had one I wouldn’t be hanging out with you.”

Soorim rolled her eyes, sneering at you. She held up her hand to the side of her face, all fingers closed except for her pinky and her thumb, shaking it a little. You sighed.

“He’s a friend.”

“The same friend that kept on calling you during our night out because he was worried?”

“Yes, well,” your sweat dropped. “He’s just like that, you know?”

“Sure,” she scrunched her nose, haphazardly throwing her giant notebook on the table. There was a brief moment of quiet that overtook because Soorim decided to stop egging on you as you waited for your professor, but that quiet only lasted for a while. She nudged you, and you looked up from your desk. “Oh, look who's coming.”

Huang Renjun sauntered in with an expression not fitting for a “good morning” greeting, so you chose to remain silent and simply stare at him in judgment as he settled right before you and Soorim, plastic bag in hand and binder in the other. What shat in his coffee this early in the morning?

“This is all your fault,” with a grunt, he dropped the bag filled with all sorts of food and snacks right in front of you, immediately pulling out a chair and sitting his ass onto it after. “My plans of turning up late are ruined because of you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, picking out a small container of strawberry milk from the bunch. How was this your fault? Furthermore, what exactly was all of this?

“Ooh, you making moves on Y/N, Huang?” Soorim, on the other hand, was digging into the rest of the goods, stealing a bun filled with red bean paste with a happy smile.

“Ew, as if.”

Renjun fake gagged, earning a look of offense from you which he completely ignored and disregarded. He took a box of pepero from the pile, shooting you a smug look before adding.

“It’s from Nana.”

(“You’re at school already? It’s very early. You’ve eaten breakfast, right?”

At a convenience store nearby the school, Jaemin and Renjun decided to eat their first meal there. Though, it appeared that the latter was the only one doing all the eating because his friend seemed to be far too preoccupied with his conversation on the phone to even notice that he took some of his sushi right in front of his face. Renjun silently chewed as he watched the colors on his friend’s face change at each sentence.

“Aish, it’s the most important meal of the day for a reason. How many times do I have to tell you—”

Another piece of sushi stolen. He wondered how far he could get away with it.

“Y/N, I—”

Jaemin let out a long sigh, causing Renjun to drop the food back onto the plate, retracting his chopsticks back to his own food— a bowl of ramen noodles that he had still yet to finish. He discreetly slurped it down as if he hadn’t been stealing since earlier. He was sure that Jaemin noticed though, but knowing his friend, he probably just let him. Renjun noticed the small pout on Jaemin, eliciting his curiosity.

“Okay,” he’s whining, Renjun concluded. “See you later.”

The moment Jaemin shut off his phone, Renjun expected him to say something, to air out why the fuck he was being all that this early in the morning, maybe even tell him what the call was about like a friend would, but no. Instead, Jaemin promptly stood up from his seat, disappeared into the limited selection of isles in the store, basket in hand, and started throwing a mountain full of food with a scrunched out, concentrated expression. Renjun had his mouth hanging open, brows knitted together, and wondering what in the ever loving fuck was going on with his friend as he stared at him pay for everything at the counter.

He sat back, eyeing Jaemin as he returned in front of him, who placed the full bag on top of the table as he took a seat.

“The hell?” a particular carton caught Renjun’s eye, and he immediately fished for it in primal disbelief. “Strawberry milk? You literally hate strawberries and milk separately yet you’re buying them combined? Are you sick?”

Jaemin did not answer. In fact, he dismissed the question completely with a smile, deciding to ask one of his own.

“It’s almost time for your first class, right? Visual Studies?”

At that point it hit him— the call, the food, the stupid behavior of his friend. It was completely obvious.

“Oh,” Renjun dropped the drink back onto the table. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking whipped.”)

“Shut up.”

After hearing Renjun’s story, you couldn’t look at all the multicolored snacks laid in front of you without heating up a million degrees anymore. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“You’re just messing with me, shut up.”

Renjun scoffed. “Why would I even make up something so stupid? C’mon, Y/N. You know I’m way better than that.”

You couldn’t argue that this wasn’t something Jaemin would do. No, because this was exactly something sickly sweet Jaemin would do and your sad attempt of denial was simply because your heart might actually run away if you admit it to yourself. And as if to give you more assurance or to fluster you even further, your phone vibrated, causing you to jump in your seat. Before either of the two’s nosiness could take a peek, you quickly snatched your phone, leaning your chair all the way back to read the message.

[<nana3: never skip breakfast okok?!? u don’t have your wallet right? wait for me in front of the bio building later. let’s eat lunch together 🥰💚]

Dear lord Jesus, have mercy on your soul. Renjun took your squeak as a sign of victory.

“Wait a minute,” Soorim looked at you wide in a sudden moment of epiphany. “Nana as in Na Jaemin? The fucking Na Jaemin? Is he the friend you’ve been mentioning? The guy you were calling and bought all this? Holy fuck, Y/N—!”

Your body moved before you could think and you thanked god that your professor wasn’t here yet because you would have caught the entire class’ attention when you leaped forward to slap your hands over Soorim’s mouth.

Renjun’s excessive giggling brought you back to reality, pulling your hands off of her with a gasp and an apology. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck, why did you do that?”

“I don’t know, it felt like you were about to say something stupid!”

She gave a look, half done and half amazed at your willpower. You’d never been this fired up for anything. “Is it stupid to say that one of the hottest guys on campus is literally—”

“Stupid!” another slap on her mouth. Renjun was about to fall off his chair laughing. “You were going to say something stupid. Please don’t even think about finishing that.”

Lucky for you, your professor had finally come in. Unlucky for you, Soorim shot you the signature dirty stare which meant that you wouldn’t be let off that easily. How fun.

Class went on quiet and boring as usual— you’d never been one for technicalities, preferring heading straight into the creative process with nothing but inspiration coursing through your veins, so your professor’s voice was nothing but white noise running in the background as you busied yourself with your thoughts. Your eyes flickered to the floor, cheek resting on your palm, and you gazed down to the plastic back beside your backpack. Twirling your pencil between your fingers, you pulled out a scrap piece of paper, every move that you made triggered by nothing except the abstract flow of your mind.

There was only one person you were thinking of. The same person living inside your head the moment you stepped foot back into Korea, the same person that made you feel as if you were someone special out of all the eight billion people in the world, the same person that bought you three persons worth of food because he didn’t want you skipping breakfast, the same person that felt more like a dream than anything.

Mindlessly, you started sketching the face of your childhood friend, filling in all the details of his face that you could see whenever you closed your eyes, up until the bell rang that signalled the end of the class.

“Y/N! Your father and I are leaving, now!”

“There’s extra money on top of the fridge if you want to eat out.”

Saturday evening. Your parents decided to go out on a well-deserved date that night, leaving you alone inside your apartment. You saw them out the door, locking it up once they left, and as you pressed your back against the white washed wooden door, your eyes darted over to the clock hanging on your living room wall. Six-twenty-three. There were still a few hours until closing.

An art exhibition was to be held on the same evening, and this was the last day that the actual artist was going to be there. Free and you got to meet world renowned artist Ten Lee? You’d be insane not to go. Though, as you made your way into your room to change out of your raggedy old sweatpants and Jaemin’s (stolen) mint hoodie, you’d come to a realization that maybe the venue was too far for you to just walk. Your parents were using the car and it wasn’t like you could drive anyway. You could commute, but there was a better idea in your system.

Opening your phone, a smile involuntarily tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pressed the contact number that seemed to have never left your recents.

[you: nana! are you free rn? there’s an art exhibition out of town! i need a ride :p and you need some time off your studies too bcs i noticed youve been more tired than usual so good idea i think yes hehe]

As usual, he took no more than a minute to reply. But after lighting up when you saw his name flash on your screen, you bit down your bottom lip to prevent a frown from forming.

[<nana3: TT i’m attending a seminar for an org rn y/nie huhu i don’t know what time it’s ending so i’m not sure if i can make it 😫😭]

[you: it’s okay!! jhfdj sorry for disturbing u!! please listen well to the speaker hehe and tell me how it went]

[<nana3: i’m so sorry]

It was difficult to pinpoint how you exactly felt.

You chewed the inside of your mouth, staring at the phone screen. He shouldn’t be apologizing.

After shutting your closet door down to a close, you fell face down onto your bed, your phone thrown over to the side. Yes, you were disappointed, but it wasn’t what weighed you down; the actual reason feeling like a disgusting, throbbing feeling writhing underneath your skin after being suppressed for awhile now. It never left your system the moment you'd arrived, the moment he showed you what his life was like, making you realize the stark difference between you and him.

You couldn’t care less about the exhibition now. In fact, fuck that entire plan entirely. As you were loitering, fooling around, planning on going to pointless events that wouldn’t be of benefit to your future, Jaemin was there, making connections and decisions and taking a step further into life.

It made you wonder what exactly had you been doing these past seven years— what haven’t you been doing, what you should be doing. You were ashamed to admit it, but it plagued the back of your mind since you got here.

Jaemin was far too out of reach.

It made the wrench in your gut worse whenever he made an effort to not make you feel that way. He’d always include you whenever he’d be with his other friends, always made sure that you didn’t feel left out since you came here, whether it be by his little cute texts even though you were in the same room just to make you smile, or by giving you all of his attention despite the many people vying for his. God, you didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve to like him.

What did you deserve?

Just then, there was a knock on your front door, followed by a buzz from your phone.

[<nana3: open the door!]

And you did, scrambling out of your bed and nearly tripping over your feet as you ran just to swing it open. Jaemin stood before you with his hair tousled by the wind, a purple and orange varsity jacket covering his frame. He greeted you with brightened eyes.

“I thought you had—”

“I left early,” he smiled at you, walking inside. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? Hurry, I’ll wait here.”

You blinked at him as he passed you by to sit on your couch, unable to understand what led him to such a decision, staring as he stretched his arms over his head with a yaw. He shouldn’t have come here. “Jaemin, it’s just an exhibition, it’s not as important as your seminar.”

He raised a brow at you, stealing a pillow into his lap. “But you want to go, right?”

“Well…” you did want to go, even after your small episode earlier. “Yeah, but—”

“Then it’s more important.”

He smiled at you. You cursed at yourself for letting your heart dither.

“Besides, you actually think I’d let you go out alone this late at night?” Jaemin stood up from the sofa, resting his hand on top of your head with an affectionate gaze. “You should go change. Or maybe not. You look good in my clothes, anyway.”

It was cold outside, so Jaemin made sure that you were wearing enough layers so that you won’t get sick, forcing you back inside when he deemed that you weren’t covered enough.

“Jaem, I’m fucking sweating.”

You huffed as you lugged yourself to the front seat, but your padded winter coat was preventing you from making a smooth landing inside.

“Sweating is a good sign! That means you’re healthy,” noticing your struggle, Jaemin relented to leaving the coat at the back of the car, but keeping it there just in case. He got in after you, starting the car and turning on the radio for some background noise. “Reconnaissance Gallery Right? What’s the name of the show?”

“Mono,” you replied. “It’s by Ten Lee.”

“Oh! I remember you talking about him once,” he exclaimed. “We should hurry then.”

It was a generally quiet car ride, but the silence was welcomed. After asking where you wanted to eat dinner once you were done with the exhibit, Jaemin didn’t talk anymore. Your eyes followed the moving lights that were lit up all around the night scene, and from time to time they flickered over to admire the boy beside you who seemed to be far too engrossed with his driving. An unconscious smile grew, warmth fluttering inside. You were lucky enough to meet him again in this lifetime, even after being set apart for so long.

“Something wrong?”

He asked without looking. He must have noticed you staring.

“No,” you replied with a soft voice. “Just remembered how baby-faced you were back then.”

With a laugh, he shook his head, one hand stretched out to the steering wheel. “You’re one to talk. Alright, I think we’re here.”

You felt a rush the moment you went past the glass doors, met by a relatively large interior with walls painted either black or white and lined with numerous paintings that contrasted the wall they were hung on. With a large grin, you quickly tugged Jaemin’s arm deeper into the venue, your footsteps making hollow echoes inside the place. He was taken aback by your sudden action, heart racing when he felt your grip on him, never slowing down even when you stopped in front of one of the larger works in the exhibit. “Oh my gosh, I love this painting— wait let me take a picture.”

As you fumbled with your phone, Jaemin couldn’t help but stare at you as if you were a part of the exhibit itself. There were more people inside, yet he didn’t even notice them; paintings as pretty as the night sky, yet it was you that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. Your phone camera captured it with an audible click, and he took it as a signal to scramble and take his out too.

Click!

“The painting’s really pretty, right?”

He nodded at you. “Yeah,” it wasn’t the painting that he wanted to capture. He dug his phone back into his pocket after sneaking a brief glance at your excited grin behind the screen. It wasn’t every day that you smiled like this since you were usually reserved. He didn’t want to miss saving a memory. “You wanna walk around more?”

At his suggestion, you and Jaemin decided to move deeper into the exhibit. You knew he wasn’t that knowledgeable about art, but he still listened intently whenever you told him something about the strokes and composition of some of the works displayed. You hadn’t run into Ten Lee yet even after an hour of walking around and taking pictures, but you didn’t mind at all. Jaemin froze in front of a certain painting— the visage of what seemed to be a face formed together by different objects, drawn in a style similar to the rest with the black and white motif, graffiti-esque structure, and the overall whimsical and abstract feel to it. There was a smile on his face, you wondered what he was thinking about.

“One day, it’s gonna be your paintings that will be displayed here. You promise you won’t forget about me when that happens, okay?" he started, turning his attention to you. “You should also paint a portrait dedicated to me," he joked, nudging you a little.

You smiled at him. Jaemin noticed that this wasn’t your usual smile, but he chose to not say anything. “Okay,” you breathed out before looking down seconds before he could see your expression melt away. How was he thinking so highly of you when it was him who was too far to reach?

He was about to ask— he didn’t know what to ask— but he would say whatever just to erase whatever was bothering your peace of mind. But he wasn’t able to. In fact, just as he lifted a hand to rest over your shoulder as an act of comfort, your head shot up, turning to face the sudden eruption of a commotion that Jaemin had failed to notice in his worry for you.

“Holy crap,” you gasped. “Is that—”

Ten Lee, just a few feet away from you with cameras and crowd surrounding him. You wasted no time to run to him, grabbing Jaemin’s hand in a flash to drag him behind. His eyes softened upon seeing the excited bounce of your hair as you ran. At least your spirits were brought back up again.

Jaemin watched as you nervously fiddled with the hem of your jacket as you waited for an opening to talk to the famous artist, how you would stand on your toes to peek above the small crowd and stand back down again after feeling too shy. Eventually the crowd dissipated to only around four or five people. This was your chance. You looked at him Jaemin. He nudged you with his shoulder. ‘Go,’ he mouthed. You pressed your lips together before finally deciding to march up to the artist. He didn’t realize you have been holding his hands until you let go.

“A-ah, hi!”

He followed after you in case you were feeling too nervous, but he was relieved to see that Ten Lee was pretty down to earth and easy going for someone famous. He stayed a few steps behind you as he listened to the ongoing conversation.

“I can’t tell you enough how much I adore your works. Especially, Monarch! I took a picture of it earlier and it’s so much more captivating in person,” you said, watching as Ten signed your phone case. “Actually, I—I look up to you a lot as an artist. A few of my paintings were actually inspired by your style, but of course it— it would be an insult to compare.”

“You shouldn’t compare,” he scolded, adding in a little sermon about your art is yours and that it should stand alone as your own. He handed your phone back, a smile on his face. “Can I see?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. In a flustered rush, you quickly scrolled through your gallery folders to find the specific paintings you were referring to, and Jaemin, out of curiosity, hovered over your shoulders to see as well. As you passed through your works with your friend’s mouth hanging open in awe (he wanted to gush about them, but figured this wasn’t formally appropriate), his eyes caught a glimpse of an image that you quickly swiped past— far too glaring too miss because he was sure that it looked something like his face. It was a different kind of pride that he felt when he saw that.

Ten’s eyes flickered as he saw through your paintings, something formulating within even after you hid your phone. He looked at you, grabbing your hands without any warning which caused you to squeak. “Y/N, right?” you nodded, wide eyed. “You know, I’m hosting an online gallery within the upcoming weeks. It’s for young, aspiring artists like you to be recognized at a larger scale.”

Hold on, you tried to catch on to what he was saying. Was he—

“Are you interested?”

—serious? Was he actually serious? It looked like he was because when he let go of you, a business card suddenly materialized in your hands. Holy shit.

“Think about it, okay? Just email me your portfolio and everything. Who knows, what if you get recognized and scouted after this?”

He winked at you, shooting you a thumbs up. This had to be a dream. You were still trying to process the piece of fucking paper that you were holding and now all of a sudden Ten came in between you and Jaemin, swinging his arms around your neck and giving you a pat on the back

“Anyhow, thanks to the both of you for coming to my show. And Y/N—” he looked at you with a grin. “Looking forward to your more of your works.”

Ten disappeared off with two other people, their footsteps clacking against the cold, tiled floor. You stared at the card in your hands for a few moments— Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, it wrote— before snapping your eyes back to Jaemin who was wearing a far too large smile. “Oh my god.”

Jaemin wasted no time in drowning you into a hug, knocking the air out of your lungs when he nearly toppled you onto the ground.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft in comparison to the roughness of his actions, sweetly fluttering into your ears as he rocked you left and right with his squeezing embrace. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words nearly broke you down to tears.

“This calls for a celebration, right?” he pulled away, hand automatically falling to hold onto yours as he led you to the gallery’s exit. “My treat! I know a place nearby, we should eat an entire feast!”

“Nana, you already treated me to lunch last time, I can’t just—”

“No, no no! I’m treating you, okay? This is your achievement so I should congratulate properly.”

There was no point arguing with him when he already had his mind set, but even during your drive to a nearby barbecue place, even when you were already halfway with the meal, you kept on insisting that you’d pay him back for all of this someday. He’d only laugh it off, telling you that he doesn’t mind as long as you’re enjoying yourself. You downed a shot of soju after hearing that, hoping that it would make you forget momentarily about how fast your heart was beating.

Somehow the clock eventually struck nine, and rather than going home, the both of you took an impulsive detour to a nearby public beach. The sounds of waves crashing against the solemn quiet of the night was heard as you neared the area, bringing you to a moment of peace.

Instead of going to the sandy shore, you two decided to take a spot on the beach cliff right above the rolling water. “Be careful,” Jaemin whispered from behind as he guided you along the rocky surface, heating up from the way he was so, so close with his hands steady on your back. You two sat side by side on the cliff, underneath the veil of stars, with the ocean right in front of you.

“Are your parents okay with you staying out this late?” he cocked his head to face you in a manner that was far too cute for you to suppress a giggle.

“Jaems, they’d probably allow me to disappear off to Italy as long as you’re with me.”

The both of you broke into laughter, but it was eventually replaced by the noises of the ocean. You breathed in the salty scent of the sea, folding your knees to your chest with your arms hugging them together. For a moment your eyes flickered over to Jaemin, and a chord was strung, tugging your heart towards him, but it was impossible for it to leap out of your chest so it only rattled against your ribcage desperately just like the waves. You stared at the way his dark hair melted into the night sky, the wind brushing it away, the way he had his legs stretched out freely over the rocks while you squeezed yourself as small as you could get, and lastly, the way he flashed over to look at the exact moment that you wanted him to.

If there was such a thing as a perfect instance where the stars of the night sky aligned, it would be this.

“You know,” you started, letting your arms fall to your sides as you looked over to the distance. “I envy you sometimes.”

Jaemin was taken aback by your confession.

“I also admire you,” you pressed your lips together tightly, forming it into a smile. “A lot. I admire you a lot. To the point that it made me feel like you’re living in a completely different world from me and that I wasn’t deserving of you.”

You’d finally mustered up the courage to tell him everything you’d pent up during your first month back here— it was better than just letting it fester into something worse, even if there was a risk of completely ruining your friendship. It was better than playing pretend.

“We’re both only a year apart but it seems like you have your life all tied together while I’m still barely able to walk on my own two feet. I wouldn’t even have been able to go to the exhibit if it weren’t for you,” you crossed your legs, a mirthless laugh slipping past your lips as the wind brushed against your cheeks .“I don’t… want to seem ungrateful for everything you’ve done or make you feel bad or anything, because Jaemin—”

You turned around, looking at him.

“If I had the choice to stay back then, I would have gladly chosen to spend those seven years together with you.”

Jaemin stared at you, speechless, unblinking. He had a gut feeling that there was something bothering you all this time, but he never had thought that it would be this.

“But the feeling of seeing you again after all this time is a feeling that I wouldn’t trade for the world either,” you hummed, looking down as you traced the creases of the rocky ground with your fingers, a shaky breath slipping past you. “If only… I wasn’t just so insecure then maybe everything would be perfect.”

For a moment there was nothing— only the lulling sounds of the sea that became quieter after you laid your heart out to the ground. The next moment, Jaemin spoke up.

“I got into an accident four years ago.”

You shot up in a single instant.

Jaemin laughed a little, bringing his hand to the crown of your head in assurance. “I had a herniated disc which got worse during a dance camp. It was definitely scary, how it seemed like I was in a standstill for two years while everyone else carried on with their lives,” he continued, letting his hand drop once more right beside yours. “It’s hard to get out of that hopeless mentality. It takes small steps, but once you do, things will eventually start looking up.”

He shot you a smile, eyes twinkling under the light of the moon. You couldn’t help but put your head down after hearing everything.

“I understand how and why you’re feeling that way, don’t worry I’m not upset. You don’t think I am, right?” he caught you sniffling, leaning forward to take a look at your face but you kept on turning away. “Y/N— Y/N, look at me, okay? I’ll be your personal cheerleader from now on, yeah? Up until you realize that you’re actually greater than you think you are.”

He was too good to you.

“I’m— I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you were having a tough time.”

You silently muttered, meekly sneaking a glance at him to see that he was actually smiling at you this entire time. He’d always been like this.

“It’s alright, you didn’t have a choice, right?” he assured. “And I’m all better now, as you can see. I can even jump off the cliff into the ocean without having a single scratch!”

Right, you managed a laugh from his silly proclamation. He lit up upon hearing you. Maybe you can try to be like that too.

“What’s important is that from now on.”

There had been a gap between the two of you that entire time, but Jaemin bridged it the moment his hand brushed against your skin, his pinky interlocking with yours against the coarse ground. You met his eyes. He shot you a smile. That same smile that you could never get enough of.

“You’ll be with me.”

“Jaemin, please put your shirt back on.”

When you walked back into the living room, easel and canvas in your arms, you did not expect to be met with your childhood friend-slash-boyfriend mid-strip. In fact you were far too in shock that you dropped everything to the floor at that exact moment, only managing to utter those previous words once you were busy picking them all back up and not looking at him. He quickly ran to help you.

“Oh, I thought this was—” he passed you a paintbrush, helping you stand back up once you’ve gotten everything. “Aren’t the models for your classes usually, like, naked?”

“You think I was gonna paint you nude?!”

“Well,” he mused, holding his shirt to his bare chest. “If you want— okay, sorry! Shirt on! Shirt on!”

You settled down the easel that you just threatened to launch at him near the window where the afternoon sunlight was leaking through. A few days prior, you had contacted Ten Lee regarding the online exhibit, asking when the deadline was because you wanted to include one more piece in your portfolio.

“Nana, can you sit over here?”

There was a stool situated a few feet in front of the easel and right beside the window. He did as you said, now fully dressed and sitting properly and well behaved. You marched up to him, moving around his limbs into a specific pose. Jaemin wore a subtle smile as you grabbed his arms to a certain position, his shoulders into a certain angle, and when your fingers landed on his jaw to adjust his head, he just couldn’t help but throw all your work out the window by pulling you towards him by the waist.

“What are you—” a kiss fell on your nose. Jaemin shot you a cheeky smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help it.”

You weren’t inclined to do anything else but forgive him, even if it meant refixing him into position, but somehow you managed. Running back behind the easel, you wore a satisfied smile upon seeing the composition, flicking your wrist to start the initial sketch. There was music running in the background. Jaemin sat still for thirty whole minutes.

“Can I move for a sec?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered. “I got the basic shapes down anyway.”

He let out an amazed gasp, lips forming into an ‘o’ shape. “So cool,” he said, and you let out a little laugh.

You were trying to focus, but in between a few strokes of your pencil, he wiggled his eyebrows when you looked at him again. You threw your head down to suppress a barrage of giggles. “Okay, this is— this is going nowhere. Can I just take a picture of you?”

Even taking a shot of him was difficult because he just wouldn’t sit still. He’d always do something to make you laugh or smile just when you were about to take a picture. You scolded him, telling him that all you needed was a few takes then the both of you can make a run for some popsicles at the nearby store. He straightened upon hearing, and you finally got to do the job.

“Do you have a title in mind for the piece?” he asked, just as you finished taking the last photo of his face up close.

You did have one. In fact, you’ve had it in mind for a while now.

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling. “Mahiwaga.”

Haechan, for whatever suspicious reason, volunteered to treat you out to lunch today at a family restaurant near the uni. You did not know why, and he would not tell you why, but you could not pass up free food. You texted Soorim to follow just in case you needed mental support because as you sat across him, looking up from your phone while munching your fries to catch the terrifying stare he was giving you, you could tell that you needed at least one other person around.

[you: dude, i think hes actually planning on killing me please hurry up]

[soorim: omw babe]

[soorim: but ur paying for me right]

You sighed, telling her yes you already ordered her food, and she replied with an annoying heart that you refused to mark read. Just as you were about to shut off your phone, ready to hear whatever Haechan was brewing, another message was sent your way.

[<nana3: baby, i saw the exhibition!! 🤩 you know, you’re so amazing, you know?!?! nana is super super proud of you 🥺💚 and i’m sure your parents are, too!! i sent the link to all of my friends yesterday hehe. also i’ll call you immediately after my class, ok?? don’t forget to drink lots of water today 😚 byebye! 💚]

“Are you two fucking yet?”

Haechan’s question caused you to choke on your fries, dropping your phone to the table so you can reach for the glass of Sprite. You looked at him, appalled. “I’m sorry?”

“What are we talking about?”

Soorim had belatedly joined in the party, pushing you farther into the seat to make room for herself. Her eyes zeroed in on the table, choosing the giant burger to attack first. You scrunched your nose as you looked at her.

“We—”

“Whether Y/N and Jaemin have done the dirty yet,” Haechan interrupted. You looked at him in offense and horror. He reciprocated with a deadpan stare. “You have, haven’t you? I went to Jaemin’s house at four in the morning yesterday and—”

“Why were you at his house at four?!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You looked at him in disbelief, scoffing, and you looked over to Soorim with the words ‘can you believe this guy?’ ready to fire from your tongue. You could not say it. Not when Soorim looked absolutely compelled by Haechan’s bullshit allegations. She even stopped scarfing down her food. You made a mistake in calling her up here.

“What matters is that he looked absolutely fucked out absolutely naked, but not only that!” a scrunchie. He pulled out a scrunchie from his backpack. That was yours. Even had your hair on it. “This is yours isn’t it? I’ve caught you red handed, Y/N, now answer me—”

Haechan’s eyes were out to kill.

“You wrapped it, right? I’m too young to be called Uncle Hyuck so please tell me you did.”

“We are not—”

“That explains why you were walking all weird yesterday!” Soorim exclaimed. “Y/N, you know you could tell me these things, right? There is no—”

“We are not fucking!”

This wasn’t the best conversation to have at a family restaurant.

A waiter stopped serving the table next to you, it’s occupants (that included three kids and their parents) froze and looked at you in horror. An innocent passerby spilled his drink on his tray. You sharply inhaled, bowing your head apologetically. Thank god there weren’t any managers here— the three of you might have actually gotten kicked out.

With a cough, you collected yourself, giving both of your companions the stink eye for putting you in such a compromising position. “Can I not sleep at my boyfriend’s place without— without doing anything of that sort?” you huffed, ignoring the red hot heat creeping up your neck. “And as a matter of fact, I was walking weird because I fell down the while lugging plywood up the stairs, so shut the fuck up.”

The two of them let out a shriek at the same time.

“Boyfriend?! And what— you fell off the fucking stairs?!”

“Did you do as I told you?! Did you follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your—”

“Quiet!”

You shushed the both of them before the three of you actually got kicked out.

“Yes, boyfriend. Yes, I fell off the stairs. No, I did not follow Hyuck’s guide to whatever,” you spitefully took a sip from your drink. “You never even told me what the hell that was.”

As Haechan started to further explain his guide with Soorim enthusiastically taking everything in, you were caught by the buzzing of your phone. The screen lit up. Someone sent you an e-mail— the sender you did not recognize at all. You wiped your fingers with some tissues on the table before taking the device, clicking on the notification immediately after.

“Right. After you tell him that you’re— hey! Y/N, are you even listening?”

You shot up. Haechan noticed the distraught look in your eyes. His brows furrowed together.

“What’s wrong?”

The following weekend, you went out and treated Jaemin to dinner at a fancy Chinese restaurant despite his many complaints. He was about to pay for everything again, but this time you were faster in stealing the check. Afterward, you stopped by a nearby hardware store to buy another two pieces of plywood. You’ve been painting a lot more frequently lately, and you’ve been experimenting more on larger scale works. It was fortunate that Jaemin was there to help you bring the large sheets of wood this time.

“There we go.”

Jaemin settled the wood resting upright against your living room wall, right beside a few stained cans of paint underneath layers of newspaper. You thanked him, smiling, and he ruffled the hair on your head.

“You should ask me whenever you need to do some heavy work alright? We don’t want a rerun of last time,” you cringed upon recalling. That wasn’t a pretty fall. “How are your legs? Have the bruises healed?”

“Almost. You don’t have to worry,” you assured him. He sighed in relief.

Dinner and a shopping trip weren’t the only reasons you called him out tonight. You had actually been meaning to tell him something within the past three days. Your parents knew, Haechan and Soorim found out during lunch last time, Renjun and Jeno might have already found out thanks to their loudmouthed friend. All that’s left was Jaemin. It was his reaction that would help you make the decision.

But why was it so difficult to start talking?

“I’m gonna head out now,” he hummed, pulling you into his chest. You bit down your lip, contemplating, and maybe he noticed your unease and hesitation, as if he could hear your unsaid thoughts, because he lightly pulled away to look at your face and spoke. “What is it? Do you wanna tell me something?”

Of course, you thought to yourself. He’d probably know you’re hungry before your stomach could even rumble.

You gently pried away his hands from your arms, a hollow smile directed to him. Concern flashed through his eyes, but he held back his tongue, waiting for you to say your mind instead.

“Yeah…” you started. “I— I do have something to tell you.”

That was what you said, but as the clock ticked a couple dozen times in the background, you still had yet to tell him. It wasn’t easy to tell him. Because you were afraid that the moment you opened your mouth to squeeze out a single word, you might not make it to finish the entire sentence. If it were him, this might have been easy. But you were not, so it took a little more effort on your part to let the words go.

Maybe you shouldn’t have looked him in the eye, because the moment you did, your eyes stung from the threat of tears and so you jerked your head to the side.

But you weren’t able to evade, because Jaemin decided to follow you. You turned away again, looking towards the unplugged television, but it was once again replaced by Jaemin’s dark brown eyes. Your eyes stung, your lips pressed together, and at that moment you couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous actions throwing your head down in the midst of it, but your laughter got choked up by the sudden streaming of tears that you had come unprompted.

Jaemin panicked.

“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong? What is it?” he ducked down to reach your face, cupping your cheeks with his large hands as you wiped away your tears. “It’s okay, you can tell me, baby. I’ll listen to everything, okay?”

It took you a while to regain your voice, but Jaemin patiently waited with words of consolation. You couldn’t understand how one person could have this much goodwill and kindness in them.

Eventually your sniffling died down, and so you finally willed yourself to speak. “I— I joined Ten’s exhibition, right? And— and there was a possibility that other artists or institutions might be interested in the participants, right?”

“Mhm,” he replied, stroking the back of your head as you tightly gripped the front of his shirt. “Go on.”

“I— I got scouted? You know PIOA? In Paris? They— they offered me a full scholarship if I…” you paused for a moment, biting the inside of your mouth. “If I transfer there for the remaining months until my last year.”

Jaemin took a while to absorb it, silence flooding along with your occasional sniffles.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Ah, ah, baby look at me, look at me,” he grabbed your shoulders, frowning when he made contact with your red stained eyes. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, heart heavy from seeing you like this. It pained him to see you this way. “Why are you crying? Don’t you want to go?”

A beat of silence. You swallowed, speaking in a small, shaky voice.

“Do you want me to go?”

Another beat of silence.

“Of course! Can you imagine that out of all the people that joined that exhibit, they chose you! Your talent and hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Jaemin inhaled sharply in between his speech, managing a smile for you to see. “I’m really proud of you, Y/N. An opportunity like this doesn’t come that easily.”

“Jaemin.”

You softly sounded, letting your head fall into his chest. He held you close, as if you were leaving at that instant.

“You know I was so happy when we got in touch again, when I came back to Korea. I know I don’t have a lot going on for me, but I could easily forget all of that because I’m with you,” once more, you felt the tears start to rise up again, but you tried your hardest to swallow them down. “It hasn’t even been that long since we got reunited and now you’re… you’re just telling me to leave you again miles, miles away as if it’s nothing.”

“It’s not like that, Y/N. It’s hard for me too, you know,” he muttered into your hair with a slight whine, his chin resting over your head. “But it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again, right? We managed for seven years, what’s two or three more?”

When he heard you stifle a laugh, laughing despite your sniveling, he couldn’t help but laugh along too. Once more and perhaps the last that night, he pulled away so he could look at the smile on your face, eyes still red and watery, and he pressed a warm kiss on your forehead.

“You have nothing to worry about, baby. We can visit each other during breaks and—” he breathed out, lips curling into a smile. “I’ll call you every day.”

Right, you wiped away your remaining tears, huffing out a brief, airy chuckle.

You looked at him, hopeful, earnest.

“Every day?”

You asked.

“Every day.”

He answered.

You were never going to get used to airports. They always carried a bitter, cold air that signified a goodbye that you were far too familiar with. Today was no different.

“Don’t forget to drink your vitamins alright? It’s a new environment so you might need some time to get used to it. Oh! And—”

“Dude, you’re worse than her actual mom.”

Jaemin shot a smile to your mother at the mention, who was waiting for your group to finish from a distance with your father. Your mother was to stay with you in Paris for a week until you got everything settled down while the four boys, Soorim, and your father decided to send you off today. Though, unlike your usual experiences with leaving and returning, today was much louder, more rowdy. It was a nice change— you only wished that it would last longer.

“It’s okay, I appreciate the concern,” you laughed. “Do I have to report back to you everything before I go to bed?”

“Well, if you can,” Jaemin mused, locking his pinky finger with yours and swinging your hand into the air from side to side. “Kidding, kidding. I trust you’ll take care of yourself there.”

A chorus of gagging noises broke out when you pulled his shirt, burying your face into his chest, prompting him to smile and wrap his arms around you. You drowned them out, though, only focusing on how warm he was despite the cold brushing of the wind, how he held you with so much gentleness that one would think he was afraid that he might break you.

It was funny how free you felt when you were trapped inside his embrace.

“How many times do I have to say goodbye to you at the fucking airport?” you grumbled, tears welling up again and so you wiped them away with your sweater sleeve. “Wait, why aren’t you crying. Aren’t you even at the very least sad that I’m gonna leave?”

Jaemin chuckled, replacing your hand with his to brush away the stray tears.

“If I cry in front of you then you probably won’t even board the plane.”

You hated that he was right.

“I’ll do it after you leave,” he let out a laugh, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. At that moment, the pre-boarding announcement rang throughout the area's speakers, signalling that it was time for you and your mother to go. Grabbing your suitcase, you sent a grateful look to each one of them— your father, Jeno, Renjun, Donghyuck, Soorim, and—

Jaemin suddenly grabbed your suitcase handle before you could go, his hand right beside yours. You locked eyes with him, wide and surprised.

He landed a kiss right on your lips.

“Call me when you arrive, okay?”

You mindlessly nodded, still in the midst of recovering from shock. Your mother called out to you to start moving.

As you walked away, head still locked behind, you watched as the four screamed, cheered, and teased your boyfriend as they shook and pushed him around like a ragdoll, while he just kept on looking at you with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll record his crying face!”

Haechan screamed despite being several feet away already, and you stifled out a laugh.

You might have to say goodbye today, but time will come when you would meet again.

Across the cobblestone tiled sidewalk, people were walking about, the streets were filled with tourists and natives, the mid noon sun was just in reach. Summers had always been crowded in the city, and you were swimming in the middle of the crowd in a far too inappropriate attire, sweating as you spoke into the phone.

“Oh, yeah. I’m on my way to the gallery now— I had to stop by at a cafe first, though.”

“You seem busy.”

Jaemin’s voice echoed from your phone’s speakers. The streetlight turned red. You followed the crowd as you crossed the street.

“Yeah… It’s a lot of back and forth work, even on the last day of the show, but it’s all worth it,”you replied. “Did you know that people kept on asking me who my muse was for Mahiwaga? Ever the popular boy, even when you’re not here.”

It has been a year and a half since you first got to France. Things have been going well on your part with your budding art career— and so far you’ve guested in three exhibitions, but you have yet to have one solo. Even though you and Jaemin promised to see each other during breaks, it was practically impossible to align your time. He was busy with internships and his organizations this year and so were you. But one thing the both of you have faithfully maintained throughout the course of your time away was calling each other every day, even if it was just for a few minutes.

A cyclist sped past you. Jaemin’s voice was heard again. He laughed at your last remark, saying that he wasn’t that popular, but all of a sudden his voice turned into a more serious tone.

“Since you have a lot of work these days…”

Your brows furrowed, squinting as the light shone into your eyes. You clutched your sling bag, heels clattering as you passed by the cream, brown, and grey buildings.

“Should we call less often?”

You stopped in your tracks.

What?

“No— no, Jaems, what are you saying? Are you sick? Are you not feeling well?” you were almost late for the opening, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. What was he on about? Call less? Never had that crossed your mind even once. “I don’t even get to see you anymore, so if anything… we should call as often as we can.”

A few people passed from behind. His end of the line was silent. Your lips scrunched into a frown, confused.

“Jaemin?”

“That’s a relief.”

Before you could even ask him anything, the call ended.

“What the hell?” you huffed, staring at your phone screen in perplexity before you returned it to your pocket. Maybe he was feeling a lot more lonely than usual— that was unavoidable, but the both of you made it work. You should ask him what that was all about later. Now, you really needed to head to the gallery. With a sigh, you marched forward, stopping at an intersection where the large, eggshell white walls of the gallery stood across.

You stopped before the crosswalk, the lights green, and a few vehicles passed by, and your thoughts were once again clouded by Na Jaemin and why did he suddenly propose that. Was he getting sick of you? Was this his way of hinting a breakup? Your face contorted into a look of horror. No, you shook your head at the notion. He literally sent you a picture of a weird keychain last night  saying it reminded him of you. Another sigh. The light went red. You crossed the street.

Maybe it was because you were thinking too much of him, maybe you were missing him too much, but the moment you reached the middle of the crosswalk, your heart suddenly stopped, legs froze, eyes stuck to the sight right in front of you.

There he stood, right before the front stairs of the gallery with dozens of people disappearing and passing by. He spotted you, eyes lighting up, the corners of lips automatically quirking upwards. He sent you a small wave.

You ran.

“Hi— woah!”

Maybe you were causing a scene, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t find it in you to care when Na Jaemin was right fucking here. He chuckled when you suddenly ran into him, wrapping you in a tight hug that matched your own. “You know, I was afraid that you’d actually agree to limiting our calls,” he started, and you looked up, the light shining into your eyes. Jaemin’s smile was as bright as the sun. “I thought I would have to deport myself back to Korea.”

Your lips quivered, unable to hold it back. Yeah, you shook your head, a shaky laugh leaving your lips. It’s always been like this.

“Is this where you’re holding the exhibit? Wow, it’s a lot bigger than in pictures.”

There are points in your life where you’re met with a choice— to stay or leave, to smile or cry. Always him between something else. Twice. You’ve said goodbye to him twice choosing to leave. For a moment, it might seem that you’ve chosen the other. But that was never the case, because at the end of each day it was him you were thinking of, it was him that your lines end, it would always be—

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you crying?” he exclaimed, frowning as he wiped away your tears. “Ah, it’s such a happy day today, you shouldn’t be crying.”

“I missed you, you dummy.”

—Him. You’d always choose him. Na Jaemin. Jaems. Nana. Your childhood best friend. Your boyfriend—

He smiled at you, eyes shining, pressing a kiss on your forehead before taking you into his arms once more with a shaky breath. “I missed you too.”

—Your mahiwaga.

hannie-dul-set, 2020.

[bloodorangesoup]

Happy Twenty | S.R.

Summary: At the age of sixteen you and Steve made a pact that, if you were still both virgins by the age of twenty, you’d be each other’s firsts, just to get it out of the way.

Pairing: 30sPreSerum!Steve x Reader

Word Count: 8.2k I’m sorry

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | childhood friends to lovers | a lot of lead up | protected sex (obviously) | slight overstimulation | corruption kink if you squint, spin in a circle, and chant my name 3 times | innocent steve | a lot more fluff than I originally intended

Notes: Before this I had no idea condoms were a thing in the 30s. This is my first Steve one-shot and I don’t know how much I like it because it’s kinda all over the place but it is a thing. It’s also the longest one-shot I’ve ever written so bear with me. Please let me know how I did and any other Steve stuff you’d like to read! Happy reading!

The first fireworks were lit as the clock struck twelve, patriots all throughout Brooklyn not being able to wait even a second longer to celebrate the country they loved so much. The three of you had decided once again to watch the first fireworks of the Fourth from Steve’s rooftop. It was a half Independence Day celebration, half friendship tradition to kick off both of your birthday’s together.

Bucky was sitting up on your right, elbows resting on his knees. Steve laid on your left, his hands folded and resting on his stomach. You laid in between them, your arms stretched above your head. A smile graced your face as you watched the fireballs shoot up in the air and burst into color.

“Happy birthday, kiddos,” Bucky said, a cheesy grin plastered on his face.

“You’re not much older than us, punk, you’re only seventeen,” Steve scoffed back. Your smile grew, watching your two favorite boys. You dropped your left arm down to wrap around Steve’s shoulders and bring him closer to you.

“Hey,” you said facing Steve, “you’re supposed to be nice to senior citizens,” you nodded towards Bucky.

“Ah, shut up, Y/n,” Bucky laughed, you and Steve following.

Silence took over the rooftop, the three of you admiring the colors painting the night sky. Your arm was still around Steve’s shoulder; you only noticed when you turned to look at him and realized how close your faces were. He turned his head, sensing your stare. Noses almost touching, the two of you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before you flashed him a big smile.

“Happy sixteen, Stevie,” you whispered to him, admiring the flecks of green mixed into the blue of his irises. Steve’s smile grew, he let out a little breath of laughter.

“Happy sixteen, Y/n.” You glanced over his face one more time before looking back up at the fireworks, not wanting to miss the rest of the show.

Steve stayed facing you, taking in the rare moment he could stare at you in all your beauty. He shouldn’t have had a crush on you, you were his best friend, but he chalked it up to you being one of the only girls that ever gave him the time of day. His eyes drew down your eyebrows, remembering how excited you had been when your mom had finally let you start plucking them, to your eyes and they way they crinkled at the corners as you beamed at the sky. Every time a new firework would go off he would watch as the blues, greens, and pinks highlighted your cheekbones. He didn’t even realize he was staring until a gum wrapper hit him in the face. Looking up at the direction it came from, he met Bucky’s knowing look, one eyebrow up and a smirk. Steve just shook his head and looked back up at the sky.

Around one o’clock, Bucky had to walk back home. The three of you slowly walked your way down to the door of Steve’s apartment, stalling to prolong your time together.

“Alright, I really gotta get going now. Mom’s gonna whoop me if I’m not home by two,” Bucky said, putting his hands on yours and Steve’s shoulders before bringing you two in for a hug, “happy birthday, idiots.”

“Bye, Bucky,” you rolled your eyes.

As Bucky walked off, Steve unlocked his door and motioned for you to come in. Another birthday tradition you two had begun was to have a sleepover the night before. You would never tell Steve, but the only reason your parents were okay with it was because they figured they would never have to worry about Steve making a move on you. You hung up your coat and immediately made your way to the radio, a gift Steve had received the year before. Spinning the dial through the channels, you landed on one that had slow jazz music playing.

Steve got two cokes from the icebox and set them down on the small coffee table in the center of the living room. You sat on the floor across the table from him, setting up the checkerboard on it.

“Wish Bucky could’ve stayed this year with us. You know the only reason his mom gives him a curfew now ‘s cause he spent the whole night out with a girl last month?” Steve said as he moved his first piece forward.

“Big trouble for a date? Why’d he do a stupid thing like that?” You moved your first piece.

“He said he was this close to losing it,” Steve pinched his fingers together, “said he got his hand up her skirt though. Can you believe it? He’s only seventeen and he’s already almost lost his virginity,” Steve shook his head and sighed exasperatedly as you both made your moves.

You scanned the board, trying to find a safe spot, “You know, honestly, a lot of boys our age are starting to talk about that now, even some of the girls. Is it such a crazy idea?” You moved your piece.

“Maybe not for you guys. Girls tend to do anything to stay away from me,” Steve said with a disappointed sigh.

“Hey, it’s not that bad. And what do you mean ‘you guys’? It’s not like I’m one of the prettier girls or have any boys coming up to me at school or any of the dance halls, I haven’t even had my first kiss yet!” The both of you had stopped looking at the board.

“Neither have I,” Steve shot back immediately.

The air stilled, you and Steve looked at each other, thinking the same thing but not wanting to be the first to say it.

“Stevie?” you snapped him out of his head. He cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows at you, telling you to go on. “Maybe these things would be easier if we just got it over with, y’know?” You hoped he was understanding where you were going with this, not wanting to have to explain and face his surprise.

“Yeah, I mean yes, I guess it’d be easier,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes.

“Steve?” You said again, firmer this time. His head snapped up, eyes meeting yours. “Would you wanna kiss me?” you asked slowly.

Steve stared at you for a second, waiting for you to laugh or tell him this was some practical joke Bucky had set up. Instead you were nervously twiddling your thumbs and turned your head down.

“Yes.”

You quickly looked up, eyes widening. Your mouth opened, words wanting to come out but failing. Closing your eyes and taking a breath you spoke, “Okay, let’s kiss.”

Shuffling to the other side of the table, you kneeled in front of Steve. Too nervous and too worried that saying anything might ruin the moment, Steve eyed you anxiously, the silence in the room instead being evaporated by the music softly playing behind him.. You took another deep breath before talking.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you said honestly, “everyone says it comes naturally but I’m kinda nervous.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief, at least he wasn’t alone in his worries.

“Neither do I, but I think we can figure it out, right?” Steve sat up straight, “I trust you.”

“I trust you too,” you nodded your head, sitting up on your knees, “alright, let’s just...do it.”

Wasting no time, you leaned forward, grasping Steve's face and kissing him quickly. It was a satisfactory medium, somewhere between a real kiss and a peck. As you pulled back, you saw Steve’s blushing face. He looked shocked, like he hadn’t known you would do that, but the corners of his mouth tilted up. You could feel the blood rushing to your face, the familiar heat taking over your cheeks.

“That wasn’t so scary,” you said, a smile growing on your face.

“Yeah, that was actually pretty nice,” Steve mimicked your smile.

Hands still on his cheek, you licked your lips before scrambling, “If you want, we could try again. Y’know the real thing. Just so we know what it’s like, though. Only if you want to.”

A wave of confidence overcame Steve, and before he knew what he was doing he had his hand on the back of your neck and was pulling you in. You gasped as his lips met yours once again. Leaning your head to the side, you parted your lips, prompting him to do the same. There was a moment when your lips interlocked that clicked in your head, the both of you knowing that this was how it’s supposed to feel. Too busy enjoying the rush of the new experience, you two kept going, giving each other kiss after kiss until Steve literally had to pull back before he’d have an asthma attack.

Breathing hard, you let your hands drop from Steve’s cheeks. You felt a big smile creep its way up your face, a laugh bubbling out of your chest. Steve looked up at you, catching his breath. He watched as you touched your cheeks and shook your head, a laugh slowly escaping him.

“We did it Stevie!” You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He let out a breathy small chuckle, hugging you back.

“We did, Y/n. Thank you.”

You pulled back and laid down on the carpeted floor, Steve moving to lay next to you. The two of you fell into comfortable silence. Staring at the ceiling, you contemplated your next question.

“Would you wanna lose our virginities together?” You asked, still staring at the ceiling.

Steve choked on his breath, eyes widening and head turning quickly to look at you. Hearing this you gasped and looked back at him.

“I don’t mean now, Jesus, Steve, I am not ready for that,” you giggled. Steve slowed his beating heart. Truthfully, if you had meant right then he would have said yes. After that kiss, he would’ve done anything you’d ask him to.

“What’d you mean, doll?”

You turned on your side to face him, resting your head on your palm, “I trust you, you trust me. I say we make a pact.”

“A pact?”

“Yes, a pact.”

Steve turned to his side to face you, “Alright, what’s this pact?”

You thought for a moment, “If by our twentieth birthdays we’re both still virgins, we do it together.”

Steve watched you. You spoke with all the confidence of someone who’d done this a million times but he could tell how nervous you really were.

“Deal,” Steve put his hand out for you to shake. You shook your head and grabbed his hand, pulling him in for a quick kiss.

“Enjoy that, it’s the last one you’ll get until we’re twenty,” you laughed, sitting up and moving back to your place on the other side of the table. Steve just laughed back at you and pretended to study the board, his mind too occupied with the feeling of your lips on his.

~

Highschool had ended for you and Steve, Bucky having graduated the year before. Over the years you had grown into your looks, your new maturity giving your face and your body a newfound attractiveness. Steve couldn’t help but notice how many more guys had talked to you in senior year, or how frequently you’d be invited to the dance hall on Friday nights. Still, the two of you remained best friends, Steve continuing to be the only boy to get the majority of your attention.

Steve really tried to right his head, but something had changed in him the night you two turned sixteen. You kissed, and he liked it a lot more than he should have. He couldn’t hide his feelings for you behind the veil of friendship anymore, he couldn’t even blame it on you being pretty. No, this wasn’t some new thing, he’d liked you for far too long for it to just be that. Stronger than his attraction, however, was his love for you as a friend. So he zipped his mouth shut, hoping that in a few years he might be able to kiss you again.

During the summer of your eighteenth birthday, you had gushed to Steve and Bucky about a guy named Charlie from The City who had asked you out on a date the week before. Steve sat with a faux smile on his face as you described how tall he was, how his green eyes shone, and how he was a whole two years older than you. He hated himself for it, but Steve couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous. It’s not like you two had dated or done anything other than hug ever since that night on your guys’ birthday, but he didn’t like the idea of another guy kissing you the way he wanted to.

Much to Steve’s disappointment, the guy from NYC had really stolen your heart. Ten months after that first time you had told the boys about the amazing first date he had taken you on, you were walking back to Steve’s place with him and Bucky with a spring in your step.

“What’s got you so excited, doll?” Bucky had asked with a smile, pinching your side. You giggled and scanned the street, seeing people outside of shops eating ice cream and riding bicycles.

“Too many people out here, I’ll tell you guys when we get back to Stevie’s!” You giggled, looking as excited as ever.

The three of you rushed back, both boys curious about what had you so giddy. By the time you had made it to Steve’s front door you were jumping in place, biting your tongue to stop yourself from spilling the news too early. As soon as the three of you were inside and the door was shut you ran to the couch, sitting down and looking up at the boys, waiting for them to be ready to listen. The two sat on the floor in front of you, Bucky getting equally as excited and Steve smiling at the way your eyes were lighting up.

“Okay, y’know how Charlie and I have been together for about ten months now?” The boys nodded their heads, Bucky glancing at Steve as his smile faltered. “Last night we were in his apartment and,” you took a deep breath, “God, guys, we did it!” You clapped your hands together. There was a beat of silence before Bucky spoke.

“Wow, congratulations, doll,” Bucky said, kneeling up to give you a half hug. “He wasn’t an ass about it was he?”

“No, no of course not! Though, it wasn’t as fun as everyone had said it would be. But I don’t even care, I feel so grown up!”

Steve’s smile stayed plastered across his face. He wondered if you remembered the pact you two had made, feeling stupid for even having thought that maybe you would have wanted to keep it. Bucky walked you home that night. Before leaving, he patted Steve on the shoulder, giving him that same knowing look he had four years ago, this time with a sympathetic smile.

A few months had passed, Steve and you had celebrated nineteen, and the air was starting to heat up. Steve had passed up Bucky’s offer to go to the community pool, already knowing he would have spent the day sitting in the shade as Bucky chatted up girls. He sat in the living room, fanning himself and trying to escape the heat, when you showed up on his doorstep in tears.

“He said he doesn’t love me anymore, Stevie. I don’t know what happened,” you said through shaky breaths. Steve immediately knew who you were talking about and pulled you into his apartment, bringing you into a hug. He let you cry to him for nearly three hours, wanting nothing more than to punch that jerk of an ex-boyfriend in the face for doing that to you. And he did. Actually, Bucky did but Steve got a kick in there.

As time went on, you healed. You got over Charlie and Steve was happier than ever to see it. He had been there for you on countless nights when you couldn’t stop the tears from coming, when you decided to burn the little gifts you had received during the relationship, and when you started to smile again and would ask him to take you out to the dance halls. Steve had begun to forget about the pact he had been so hung up on as he realized he was falling in love with you. He had decided that, if his life continued with you smiling and dancing with him like that, he didn’t need to kiss you or lose his virginity with you, he just wanted you happy.

Unbeknownst to Steve, through the months you spent recovering from your breakup, you began to develop feelings for him. You had no idea why it took you so long to realize that the exact kind of guy you were looking for was in front of you the whole time. You were the happiest you could be when you were around him and he never failed to show you how cared for you were. Guilt coursed through you for falling for your best friend, your insecurities pointing out every reason there could never be anything between you two.

Almost a year had passed since Charlie had broken your heart and you found yourself happily sitting on the roof of Steve’s apartment with him and Bucky once again.

As first fireworks of the night had burst in the sky you let out a content sigh, “Happy twenty, Stevie.”

Steve turned to you to find you already looking back at him. In all honesty, Steve carried just a tinge of disappointment through this birthday. Even though he was happy just to have you by his side and watch you in all your joy, he had never completely forgotten about the pact you two had made, secretly dreaming of what could have been and how it could have led to more. But alas, you beat him to it, and he knew he would have to continue silently pining for you.

His eyes glossed over the brightness of your smile, remembering how the fireworks reflected off your face when you were sixteen and noticing how your cheekbones seemed more lifted and pronounced than they were back then. Steve focused on your lips. They were fuller nowadays and always accentuated with a thin layer of rouge. As he looked back up to your eyes you looked at him expectantly. Realizing he was caught staring, Steve cleared his throat and wished you a quick happy twenty back. You gave him a light chuckle, reeling inside at the fact he was so distracted staring at you.

As if on cue, Bucky’s voice broke through the awkward tension that had just formed, “Alright kids, happy birthday, but I gotta go.”

“Leaving so early again, Buck?” you asked, turning your attention away from Steve’s rosy cheeks.

“What’s your excuse this time?” Steve chimed in, sending Bucky a thankful nod for saving him from his embarrassment.

“Bec’s got a date to see the fireworks that I need to chaperone,” Bucky answered, burying his hands in his pockets.

“A date? To see the fireworks on the morning of the Fourth?” you asked incredulously, even Steve wasn’t buying it.

“Yup. Why else do you think Ma’s got me chaperoning it for?”

You and Steve just nodded and the three of you made your way down. Truthfully, Bucky didn’t actually have to chaperone Rebecca’s date, there wasn’t even a date at all. But he knew Steve better than anyone else and could tell how bad he had it for you. Bucky’d been hoping for years that he’d make a move and this was just another opportunity to leave you guys alone and give him a chance. Once Bucky was gone and you and Steve had gone back into his apartment, you two set up your usual routine, Steve would grab the drinks while you set up the checker board.

“I can’t believe we’re already twenty,” Steve called out from the kitchenette.

“I can’t either,” you shook your head as Steve set your coke down on the small table in front of you, “it feels like just yesterday we were here turning sixteen.” The last part made Steve stop in his tracks for a moment, his thoughts immediately going to the kiss from that night. You studied him, trying to see if he was thinking of the same thing you were. He recovered quickly, shaking his head and moving to the radio.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Your heart beat out of your chest, you knew what you wanted deep inside yourself. As he searched for a good channel, mustering all the courage you could, you spoke again, “Hey Stevie?” Your voice was shakier than you would have wanted to admit.

Steve’s body was rigid, almost like he knew what you were about to ask. To say that he was anxious would be an understatement. He had hoped for years of this exact conversation, but he’d never imagined that he would actually get to have it, and he had no idea how he would manage to survive through it.

“Yeah,” his voice came out gravelly, he coughed and swallowed the lump in his throat, “yeah, Y/n?” He fiddled with the dials on the radio to avoid having to face you.

“Do you remember that...pact that we made, when we turned sixteen?”

Steve had yet to actually get a channel going, quiet static being the only sound consuming the room.

“Yes,” Steve nodded his head, pausing for a beat, “that if we were both still virgins by tonight then we would have sex, so that we would be each other’s firsts.”

You kept quiet for a moment. At any time up to this point you could have talked your way out of what you were insinuating, but the next sentence out of your mouth would put everything out on the table.

“Would you still want to do it?” You asked quietly.

“Why?” Steve asked, “You’re not a virgin anymore, Y/n, you don’t need to have sex with me to lose it.” There was a hint of bitterness in his tone, so light that, if it was anyone but you, it would have gone undetected. You paused as Steve finally found a channel with slow music playing, not knowing exactly how to respond to him. Getting up, you walked over to where Steve stood by the radio, standing behind him. Wrapping your arms around him, you rested your head on his shoulder, tilting your head to the side to whisper in his ear.

“I trust you Steve. I know I’m not a virgin, but I want this.”

Steve was nearly shaking, this is exactly what he had craved for so long, but now that he was actually living it he was more nervous than ever. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he got deja vu of the night that had started this four years before.

“I trust you too,” Steve spoke into the air. Those words cemented all the questions and doubts that had been running through both your minds. This was happening, there was nothing to think about but each other.

Steve held your wrists, breaking apart their hold around him, and turned in your arms. There was a moment of silence as you faced each other, both of you wondering if the other could hear your pounding chests.

“Just like before,” you said, looking into his eyes. You were the “experienced” one in this situation, you wanted to calm Steve’s nerves as much as possible.

“Yeah, just like before,” he nodded. You gave him a quick half smile before dropping your gaze to his lips. Pressing your hands onto his back, you pulled him into you. His hands found your waist, resting comfortably on the curve of your hips. Letting out one final breath, you leaned in and kissed him. This kiss was different from the one you two had shared when you were sixteen. Kissing no longer being the intimidating part, it was more confident and full, neither of you holding back or shying away.

You slid your hands to rest on his shoulders, leaning up into him and pressing your chest flush against his. Steve could feel your breasts push against him, not being able to help the shuddered breath that escaped his nose. With shaky arms, he slid his right hand further down and let it rest right above your ass.

Suddenly, Steve felt your tongue glide against his lip. He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to happen, all he knew was that he really wanted you to do it again. When you slid your tongue in one more, Steve followed, leaving a heated mingling of lips and tongues moving against each other. You seemed to be getting into it, so Steve took a small leap of faith, moving his hand down until he was completely cupping your ass.

Moaning into his mouth at the feeling of his hands on you, you reached for his left hand. Pulling it off your waist, you slowly raised it to sit right above your ribs, dangerously close to your chest. Steve’s breathing slightly quickened, understanding exactly where you were taking him. He moved his hand the rest of the way, gently cupping the swell of your breast, whimpering into your mouth. You slowly walked the two of you back until the back of his knees hit the couch. Tearing away from the kiss, you gently pushed his shoulders down until he was sitting and staring up at you with red cheeks. Breathing hard, you grabbed Steve's hands, bringing them up to the first of many buttons running all the way down the front of your dress.

“Open it, Stevie,” you softly command, the words coming out as more of a plea. Steve’s eyes widened, only realizing right then that he would actually be seeing you naked. He nodded his head and swiftly began to unbutton the top. He fumbled as he got halfway down, his heart beat rising as he saw your bralette under the small opening he had made. Sliding the dress off your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, you stepped out of the pool of cloth, leaving you in only your undergarments. Steve couldn’t control the way his eyes raked down your form. He never thought he’d be able to see a woman like this, especially not you. Shifting uncomfortably in his spot, you could tell Steve was starting to get hard.

“We’re a little uneven, Stevie,” you giggled, motioning to his fully clothed body.

“Oh,” Steve let out a little laugh, “yeah, okay.” He quickly removed his shirt, leaving his undershirt and pants on. You didn’t comment on it, figuring those would come off later as he got more comfortable.

“Do you know how to take off a bra?” You asked. Judging by how pleasantly overwhelmed he looked, you knew the answer was no. You had only asked because you wanted to talk as you went along to cool his nerves, also wanting to know just how much you were ruining his innocence. He shook his head so you stepped forward in between his knees, bringing his hands up and holding them to the clasp of your bra.

“There’s three hooks holding this thing together, just hold each side with one hand and push them together to unhook them, okay?” You spoke to him how you normally would, trying to get comfortable by reminding him that it was just you. Unbeknownst to you, that was the exact reason he was so nervous.

“Alright,” Steve bit his lip. He fumbled with the hooks for a few seconds until he finally got one undone. Smiling to himself, he quickly unhooked the other two and held the fabric taut against you. He looked up at you, his heart pounding, he knew what was next.

Sliding the straps off your shoulder, you took the fabric from Steve’s hands, forcing him to drop them to his side.

“Keep your hands on me, pumpkin, don’t be shy” you said. He slid his hands up your hips to your waist.

“Right, we’re way past being shy with each other now,” he joked, looking relieved when you laughed with him.

“Yes we are,” you smiled at him fondly, “you sure you want this Steve? There’s no shame in backing out now if you don’t.” You dropped one of your hands to caress his face.

“Yes,” he replied shakily.

He held your hand to his face, reaching his other hand up to the front of your bra, hooking his index finger over the fabric in the center. You let your grip on the band slacken, allowing him to pull it from your chest, looking into your eyes. Steve let his gaze wander down to your chest, a gasp escaping the back of his throat as he took it in.

“Oh-oh my god,” he murmured to himself, licking his lips as his eyes darted around trying to get the full picture and memorize every detail.

Taking hold of them once again, you slowly turned Steve’s hands to hold your palms to the backs of his. Steve swallowed hard as you brought them forward to hold your breasts, moving his hands to squeeze them softly. His eyebrows furrowed, his jaw hung slightly open. You dropped your hands to your sides, letting him massage your breasts and move them around in his hands.

“I, um, I don’t know what I should do. I don’t wanna mess anything up,” Steve started, his hands coming off your chest and hovering in the air. You shook your head, grabbing his wrists and bringing his hands back to your chest. Steve could feel your hardened nipples under his palm and held back a groan, the sudden urge to have them in his mouth fogging his head.

“Do whatever feels right,” Steve looked at you warily, “I promise I’ll tell you if something isn’t right, Steve.”

Nodding at your reassurance, Steve began to rub his thumbs over your nipples, flicking them back and forth. With one last glance up at you, he leaned into you and wrapped his lips around one of them, swirling his tongue around the hard bud. Your head fell back as a moan rose from your chest, a gasp cutting it off as he used his hand to pinch the other.

Tangling your fingers in his disheveled hair, you jumped when you felt his hand slide down your stomach to cup your pussy. You breathed out his name as he rubbed over you, switching to suck on your other nipple. It all became too much, you used the hand in his hair to pull his mouth off you, his lips popping off your sensitive nipple.

“Wait,” you said, breathless, “I wanna try something.”

“Okay,” Steve replied quickly, his hands moving back up to your hips.

You sank to the floor and sat on your knees. Steve had absolutely no experience, but he had a feeling he knew what was about to happen. A wave of nervousness washed over him, he could learn to be good at sex if he tried hard enough, but there was no changing his body. His hands fell over yours that were already working down the zipper of his pants. You looked up at him, he could see how dilated your pupils were, he saw the same eyes that would give him comfort during his dark times and would stare down anyone who had anything nasty to say to him. He took his hand off and gave you a quick nod and you got to work.

Slipping off his pants, you let your hand rest over the erection pushing against his boxers. Palming him, you leaned up to kiss him again. You slipped your hand under the band and slid your hand onto his dick, feeling how hard and hot he’d gotten from just touching you. Sinking back down to your knees, Steve lifted his hips so that you could completely take off his boxers.

You relaxed a bit at the sight of his cock, it wasn’t small by any means, but it wasn’t too big where it’d make you worried about how he’d fit in you. Wrapping your hand around his shaft, you began to stroke him up and down, spitting on your hand to ease your movements. Steve’s back fell against the couch, moaning as your thumb brushed over his tip and spread the precum that had leaked out.

“Ah- fuck, your hands are so soft,” Steve whimpered. He was in absolute heaven. He had never imagined having a girl touch him could feel so good. One thing he knew for certain was that he’d never be able to look at you the same way knowing how it felt to have your hand wrapped around his dick.

Steve looked down at you right as he felt you lick a line up his shaft, circling your tongue around the top. Meeting your lust filled gaze, he let out a stream of moans and whimpers as you sucked on his tip and took him into your mouth, bobbing your head. You took hold of his hand and placed it on the back of your neck, giving him access to guide your movements. He kept his touches light as he pushed your head up and down, feeling your tongue on the underside of his cock. Not before long he was pulling you off on him and instinctively jutting his hips forward.

“I’m gonna come, Y/n,” Steve said to you worriedly.

You giggled and slid your hands up his thighs, “That’s kinda the point, Steve.”

“No, I don’t wanna come yet. I wanna come when I’m having sex with you.”

Biting your lip, you nodded, “Okay, c’mon then.” You grabbed his hand and walked to his bed. Before getting carried away, Steve quickly ran to his bathroom cupboard to get the box of condoms he had stashed away. Sitting him down, you grabbed his face and kissed him hard. Steve’s hands wandered along your sides, reaching behind you and groping your ass with both hands.

Pulling back, you grabbed his chin and looked him in the eyes, “Do you want to lead the way or would you rather have me take charge?”

Steve blushed at your offer, slightly embarrassed at his lack of knowledge. He told you of his choice of the latter before pulling you down to kiss him again. His thumbs hooked under the band of your panties, his finders kneading your behind. With a nod of approval, Steve slowly pulled them down, his pupils blown as he saw the fabric pass down your mound.

Surprisingly, Steve didn’t need to be told to touch you this time. He looked up at you, asking for permission as he held onto your thighs, spreading your legs apart. With a small nod from you, Steve pushed the pads of his ring, middle and index finger through your folds, his brow furrowing at the wet heat pooled between them. You let out a small whimper as his fingers brushed over your swollen clit, Steve eyes quickly looking up at your expression.

He brushed his fingers over the sensitive bud again, “That feel good?” His voice had become huskier and it was only fueling the pleasure his light touch was giving you.

“Mhm, yes,” you moaned when he suddenly slipped a finger in you, “Oh God, Steve!” You braced yourself on his shoulder as he used his other hand to push your thigh up, placing your foot on the bed frame so that you were spread open for him to see. Steve watched as his finger slowly went in and out of you, his nerves jolting at the idea of his dick replacing it. Before he could even question his own actions, he leaned down and licked a stripe over your clit, the unexpected sensation sending shockwaves through your body. Steve had spent years imagining what it would be like to fuck you, but all that was on his mind at that moment was the desire to spend eternity with his mouth on your sweet cunt. You felt yourself start to grind your hips over his face and, for the second time that night, had to pull his mouth off you.

“Later Stevie, please, I want to feel you in me, right now,” you said desperately. Steve simply muttered an okay, his brain still foggy and high off the taste of you, and reached back to grab a condom. Slipping it over himself, he threw the wrapper somewhere to the side and looked at you. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of your naked form crawling onto the bed next to him.

“I don’t know if other people do this or not but I’m gonna try getting on top of you, okay?” You asked, looking equal parts nervous and antsy. Honest to God, your nerves were crazy; Charlie hadn’t tried anything other than missionary with you, you were terrified of doing something wrong.

“Okay,” Steve breathed out, “you ready?” You nodded back to him. Steve laid down on his back, his shoulders lifting up as he rested on his elbows. Swinging one leg over him, you shifted until you felt his dick rub against your pussy, your slick coating it and leaving a sheen. Both you and Steve moaned at the contact, groaning as you rolled your hips over him again.

Using one arm to hold yourself up, you leaned down and kissed him, slipping your tongue in his mouth. Sliding your hand down in between your bodies, you grabbed Steve’s cock, lining his tip up to your entrance and, breaking the kiss, lowering yourself down on him.

Steve let out a deep groan, he had no idea this is what it would feel like. His mind raced as he focused on how warm and soft you felt wrapped all around him. As you began to grind your hips over his, Steve reached up and held your breasts in his hands, squeezing them and pinching your nipples. Your head fell back, your breasts bouncing in Steve's hands as you rode him.

“Shit, Y/n, that feels so good, God, you’re so warm,” Steve said through gritted teeth. He could feel himself getting close, he wanted to hold on so bad, but the pleasure was too overwhelming and new. Pulling you down for a kiss, he remembered how he had touched you earlier and lowered his hand to rub over your clit. Your body jumped at the added pressure, Steve could feel you clench around him, your hips stuttering with every thrust. With a loud groan Steve released into you, his warmth spurring you on more. You continued to ride him through his orgasm, Steve’s hips bucking up as you took him for everything he had.

Screwing his eyes shut, Steve’s jaw fell open and his hands balled into fists at his sides, a guttural moan leaving the back of his throat as you kept fucking yourself on him. His balls clenched and his abdomen tightened, a gasp pulling at him when you quickened your pace. Shaking his head he began to whimper, cursing under his breath and chanting out your name and small “too much”s.

You regressively slowed the movement of your hips. Leaning down to kiss him, you brought your thumb up to his face to wipe a stray tear that fell. Steve took deep breaths to collect himself, looking you in the eyes as his hands came up to rest on your hips. Bracing your palms on his chest and feeling his rapid heart beat, you lifted your hips to pull yourself off him, Steve letting out a hiss as your tight walls released him.

Steve’s eyes stared up at the ceiling as you laid down next to him, your forearm resting on your forehead to cool the heated skin. Removing the condom and throwing it in the small bin next to his bedside table, he looked over at you with a soft smile before eyebrows furrowed and he turned his head completely toward you.

“Did you come?” Steve asked. It was less of a wonder and more of an interrogatory question, as if you had thought you could get away without doing so.

“I don’t think girls are usually supposed to,” you responded with a shake of your head. You really, honestly didn’t know if that was even possible and would have been satisfied if the night's festivities had ended right then.

“Why not?” Steve genuinely questioned. You shrugged your shoulders before he lifted his back off the bed, his body slightly hovering over you, “Well, I want you to.”

Raising your eyebrows, the words left your mind, only allowing you to whisper a small “okay” back to him.

Resting his weight on his forearm, Steve lowered his face to yours, kissing a trail from your cheek to your lips. His hands wandered down your stomach to your warm cunt, his fingers running through your folds again, spreading your slick all over his fingers. You let out a small whimper into the kiss, still sensitive from riding him. He began to leave tiny kisses leading from your mouth to your chest, his lips pulling in one of your nipples and sucking hard. As much as Steve loved having his mouth on your breasts, the only thought in his head was how much he wanted to taste you again.

Steve backed up to the foot of the bed, wet hand spreading your legs apart as he licked a line from your entrance to your clit and circled his tongue around it. A moan dragged its way out of you, your hands shooting down to tangle themselves in his hair. He continued to lick you in any and every way he could think of with his one goal in mind.

Your back arched as you felt a finger slip in you, Steve’s tongue never stopping, making you squirm. As his digit moved in and out of you, you could feel your stomach burn with anticipation, but you knew it still wasn’t enough.

“Ah, Steve, add another one, please,” you gasped out, your head thrown back against the sheets. Following directions, Steve slipped another finger into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls fluttering around them. His lips left your clit for a moment, his head rising to look at your chest as you breathed hard and fast and your face as whimpers left your mouth, a small sense of pride swelling up in his chest at the sight of what he was doing to you.

“Curl your fingers, Steve, please, fuck,” you cried out. Your hips began to lift and fall on their own, grinding over Steve’s face as you felt his fingers curl and massage the spongy sensitive spot inside you.

You let out a loud moan, not being able to control your body as your stomach began to twitch and your thighs began to shake. Tensing, your mouth hung open in a silent yelp as you felt the burn in your abdomen spread throughout your body, your orgasm crashing over you. Steve sucked your clit lightly as he felt you squeeze his fingers, proud of himself for successfully returning the favor and making you feel even remotely as good and you had made him feel. You laid limply in your spot, small aftershocks running through you as Steve pulled his fingers out of your and cleaned you up with a few more licks.

Crawling up the bed to lay beside you, Steve’s arms and legs brushed against yours. Silence washed over the room, the only sounds being your steading breathing and the faint music playing from the radio.

“That was a lot better than I expected,” you said truthfully. Steve glanced at your profile for a moment, a flash of disappointment hitting him as he realized the pact was over. There was nothing for him to hope for anymore, he was sure nothing beyond this could ever possibly happen between you two.

“What were you expecting?” Steve asked quietly, turning his head back to the ceiling.

“Not that,” you let out a small chuckle, “When I first did it, y’know with Charlie, it really hurt, and he didn’t really do anything other than come and stop there. It didn’t feel good like this did with you.”

“It didn’t?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed again, frustration bubbling inside of him at the mention of your ex-bastard.

“I didn’t even know it was supposed to,” you said shaking your head, “this was a lot better.” You turned to him, eyes drifting over his eyelashes highlighted in moonlight down to the soft curve of his pink lips. The words were on the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill out if you looked at him any longer. You tried to tear your eyes away but you couldn’t.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah, doll?” He turned to meet your gaze, his eyes flickering down to look at your lips before moving back up. He wasn’t sure whether or not to be embarrassed about being caught staring at you like that anymore.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Body moving faster than your mind, you leaned in and kissed him, your hand resting on his chest. Steve’s hand found your naked waist, holding you to him as he invited your kiss and returned it. Both of you could tell there was something different about this kiss, no longer fueled by sexual tension or disregarded as some juvenile learning exercise. No, this kiss was purely happening because it felt right, because it just made sense.

Pulling away from him, you rested your forehead against his for a moment before sighing and rolling back onto the bed. Another wash of silence, both of you having something to say but keeping quiet.

You let out another sigh before closing your eyes and speaking, a sad tone lacing your voice, “I don’t know what happened Steve. It’s like one day we were best friends and then out of nowhere I like you.” The voice inside your head chastised you for allowing your feelings to get in the way of such a good friendship but it was quickly cut off.

“What?” Steve couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he was sure some cruel part of his brain had imagined you saying it, still, he desperately wanted it to be true, “you do?”

You nodded, shame ran heavy through you, yet there was a hopefulness in Steve’s tone that made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help it,” tears welled up in your eyes. You were sure you had just ruined the best friendship you’d ever had. Steve looked at you to find tears running down your cheeks, he could see your lips tremble and felt his heart break at the sight. Throwing his arm around your shoulder, he pulled you into his chest, shushing your cries and comforting you like he always had.

“Please don’t cry, doll. Y/n?” He tried to get you to look up and listen to him but your face remained burning in the crook of his neck. Not being able to hear your uneven breathing and sniffles he held your jaw and pulled your face to his, his lips softly brushing yours. Your faces were so close you could feel the soft puff of breath leave his nose.

“Y/n?” Steve tried again with a whisper. You opened your eyes, immediately looking into his hazy blues. Your eyebrows tilted, silently telling him to go on.

“I have loved you for longer than I can remember.” Steve’s heart was racing, finally having admitted the truth he had worked so hard to contain.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you asked quietly, your voice croaky from crying.

“I never thought you could want someone like me,” Steve answered honestly, his eyes casting down to escape your gaze.

“I’ll always want you.” Your hand laid over Steve’s on your jaw. Sliding it off and moving to rest it on his cheek, your head moved forward, your lips catching his. This kiss was soft and sweet, neither of you needing to find an excuse or reason. It was innocent and genuine, despite your prurient position. Pulling away from him, you smiled at him, wide and expressive of your joy. Steve smiled back, ecstatic and in awe of how lucky he was to have you.

Letting yourself roll back over onto the bed, you opened your palm, fingers searching for his before intertwining together. Steve’s thumb rubbed back and forth over your knuckles as you two fell into comfortable silence.

“Bucky’s gonna blow his wig when he finds out,” Steve chuckled. You couldn’t stop the loud laugh that rumbled through your chest.

“Yeah, he is.” Tilting your head up you found Steve’s eyes already trained on you, a fond smile on his face. Giving his hand a squeeze, you let your head rest on his shoulder as you closed your eyes, ready for a peaceful sleep to overcome you.

[tsuzuruteeth]

Vil Rant: Why His Overblot was Valid

So I’ve seen a lot of not so hot takes on Vil’s overblot. Some people believe that his reason for overblot wasn’t good enough in comparison to the others. Most of the others overblotted due to some trauma from their childhood that never really got resolved to sum it up very vaguely. Vil on the other hand, it seemingly wasn’t like that. Vil’s overblot was due to envy. Pure envy. 

Or was it?

It wasn’t. So as the resident Vil stan, I am going to take my time to explain why Vil’s overblot made sense and it isn’t as petty as some people think it is. 

Vil himself is a very mischaracterized character, so it’s no surprise that people are not seeing the full picture. 

Vil’s whole character is based on hard work. Most people would assume it’s beauty but it isn’t, at least not fully. For Vil, beauty isn’t his end goal but a tool to achieve his end goal, this is made clear in his overblot flashback. Now some people might not be convinced, but this isn’t a character analysis, so I’m not going to delve too deep into his values and why they’re his values for now. 

So the reason he overblotted, for the people who take Vil at face value anyway instead of learning his motives, is because he was jealous Neige was more beautiful than him. He overblotted out of envy because he couldn’t stand being second best. 

Now this isn’t wrong, but it isn’t the full picture. Too see the full thing playout I’m gonna run through a little Vil timeline with you. And “because I am so kind” and I know not everyone out there is a fan of Vil, so probably wouldn’t take the time to read his personal stories, I will stick to things mentioned in chapter 5. 

So starting from Vil’s childhood. We see this part in his overblot flashback but even as a child Vil would always get villain roles and because of this he is ostracized by the other children, apart from Jack (Just as a reference this is also mentioned in his robes sr personal story).  This didn’t really bother Vil much from what we saw, but it showed us that Vil was a bit more mature for his age, as being in the industry he probably had to be. 

Next thing we see is how Neige always gets the main parts while Vil is always the villain. So this is where Vil’s envy of Neige starts. However, at this stage in his life it’s not about his beauty, it’s because he gets the roles Vil wants. Vil then goes on to talk about how all he wants is to be the heroine for once, yet he knows this will never happen. He is mature enough to realise that life doesn't work that way, no matter how hard you work something can never be achieved, hence his frustration begins.

So throughout Chapter 5 we can see Neige be mentioned and Vil’s vows to defeat him. He constantly asks Mira about the beauty rankings only to see Neige be number one. Which doesn’t seem such a big deal at first, until you think about how much hard work Vil puts in. Although, if you think about it, it’s still a bit petty at this stage, which is why it doesn’t cause overblot just yet. However, it does make his previous childhood frustration towards Neige grow. 

Another thing that I feel I should mention quickly, is that Vil personally doesn’t really have anything against Neige himself per say, if it was someone else in Neige’s place he would be salty towards them. He really just hates the situation and circumstances, not Neige as a person. 

Anyway back to the timeline. This is where it starts to go wrong. The VDC rehearsal. Vil put effort into the performance. We saw how strict he was, how dedicated he was to make sure everything was perfect. He put his all into it. He even made the song and dance himself, and played a key role in the actual performance. He made that performance to perfection. He even was number one on the search results for the word “beauty”! Only for everyone to fuss over Neige. Neige did a remix of a nursery rhyme and it is mentioned that the choreo wasn’t in sync.When Vil checked Mira again, Neige was back to number one. This is what tipped Vil over the edge. 

I have seen some people claim that his actions were uncalled for and petty, because music isn’t just about being perfect, it’s for having fun and making everyone else enjoy your performance too! You don’t need to be perfect to perform well and make the audience love you! Vil should hold himself to lesser standards and realise it’s not a competition, everyone is beautiful and talented in their own way!

I see your point. I really do. But, I think you need to change your perspective a little to see what really is going on. 

Put yourself in Vil’s shoes for example. Imagine you worked really hard on something, like an art project. You slaved weeks over it, making sure it was the best quality it can be. Finally you put it into a competition. Only to be beat out with a drawing that is half complete and was finished the night before. Could you manage to tell yourself to just let it go? There’s value in all art right? So shouldn’t you just be happy for the winner? It might be the right thing to do, but can you honestly say that you wouldn’t be absolutely seething inside? After all you went through? All that effort? I know for a fact I would be fuming with rage. Maybe I’m just a bad, selfish person but it's true. Although I think most people would at least be a little upset at this outcome. And Vil was.

Now you may agree with my point above, but how does that justify Vil trying to KILL Neige? That’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t. Just like Riddle, all of Vil’s views came crashing down before him the moment people started to fawn over Neige. 

He always thought that hard work would get you to where you need to be, but he worked as hard as he could yet he still failed. Instead someone who hasn’t worked hard, someone who didn’t take the VDC seriously, someone who was only there for fun, beat him out. It didn’t help that he was given hope by being number one, only to have that hope snatched from him right after Neige performed. What is he supposed to do now? If he can’t beat Neige with talent, if he can’t beat Neige with hard work, how will he beat Neige? Easy. All he has to do is get rid of Neige. 

So yes, trying to kill Neige was extreme, but to Vil, that was the only way he thought he could beat him. 

You might be wondering why is it a competition in the first place? Simply because that’s the type of person Vil is. He doesn’t want to be second best, he’s a perfectionist so the only number that matters is being number one. 

But this doesn’t cause his overblot. This isn’t the snapping point for Vil. The snapping point was him realising what he had done, what he was about to do. He was about to do something ugly. He even mentions that it doesn’t matter if everyone forgives him, he can’t forgive himself. Then, he overblots. 

So, Vil’s overblot was a combination of frustration, high expectations and just all together feeling like he isn’t good enough. It’s probably the most relatable overblot so far, as I’m sure we’ve all been in a position where we’ve snapped because something seems hopeless no matter how hard we try. It’s easy to tell someone to stop holding themselves to such high standards, but as the saying goes, it’s easier said than done.

In terms of his after overblot, I don’t see Vil lessinging his normal standards, he will still try his best and make sure everyone around him does the same. He just maybe won’t compare himself to others as much. 

In conclusion, Vil’s overblot wasn’t uncalled for or petty, it actually made perfect sense. Thanks for listening or should I say reading my Ted Talk.

[thebigoblin]

Sterek Fic Recs Part 3

[You can find the first two lists here: Fluffy Sterek Recs & Sterek Fic Recs. Also here's a special fic, check it out]

First off, thank you all for a 100 followers!! As of September 7, 2021 you've made me feel really, really good about my obsession with two oblivious idiots (with sprinkles of the hale pack and other fandoms), and this is my way of thanking you ♥️

If you're on PC, you can see that there is a page dedicated solely to fic recs, which caters to other ships & fandoms too. So don't feel left out if you're looking for something other than Sterek!

Without further ado, let's get to it then!

an awful curse

Isaac is asleep in a chair. The angle of his neck makes Derek wince in sympathy.

"Isaac," Derek says.

Isaac snaps awake immediately.

"You're-"

"Where's Stiles?"

"Stiles?" Isaac asks.

Jesus. It's not like they know more than one.

AU - Canon Divergence | 6.3k | By blinkiesays

Throw Away The Key

Stiles knew it was stupid to go to the hunters’ headquarters all by himself, so when he finds himself caught, he can really only blame himself.

It shouldn't surprise Stiles when the situation quickly goes from bad to worse as the hunters throw him to a feral werewolf waiting to tear him apart.

Sucks that it's Derek, though.

AU - Canon Divergence | 5.9k | By mommymuffin

Whatever Happened Last Night, Why Did Glitter Have to Be Involved?

Derek rolled out of bed in search of his phone - quickly finding it in the pair of jeans that had evidently been tossed aside haphazardly on the way to the bed. Seeing the pants sparked flashes of memories - wolfsbane-laced alcohol, loud music, multicolored lights.

Peter’s new supernatural-friendly club - the pack had gone to the opening night party.

He unlocked his phone and opened the pack group chat, which Erica had affectionately named ‘Moon Sluts’.

>>Derek: What the fuck happened last night

[or: Derek wakes up with three things on his mind: he feels like he was punched by a troll, his mate is missing, and there's glitter covering his bed. Oh, and the pack group chat is mildly helpful]

**

Prompt #159 - “Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.”

Crack Vibes | 1.2k | By ash_mcj

Good to Eat

So if Stiles married Derek Hale, he could become Jewish too? Perfect. It was settled. Stiles gleefully shoveled a forkful of cheesy shells into his mouth.

"Uh oh. I know that look.” Claudia shook her head.

"Don’t worry, Mom, ” Stiles said, reaching for his plastic Batman cup.

"I’ve got a plan.”

"Good luck, Derek Hale,” his mother muttered.

Rude.

AU - Childhood Friends | 1.7k | By Jmeelee

Murder Brows and Avoidance Tactics

Derek gets the wrong end of the stick.

Written for prompt: "You're jealous, aren't you?"

AU - Everybody Lives | 2k | By Dragonink13

Double Vision (only registered users can read this one)

"So what caused my hearing and sense of smell to dull?"

Deaton's brow furrowed, all amusement vanishing from his face. "What do you mean?"

Derek snapped, letting loose all of his anger and fear at the man before him. "I mean I can't hear your heartbeat or the cars down below or the birds in the attic! I can't smell the flowers in Mrs. Everett's apartment, I can't smell the rotting burger in the fridge that Isaac left in there a month ago, I can't smell or hear anything like I normally can!" Deaton mouth was pressed into a thin line. "Can you explain that?!"

 Tumblr Prompt: Derek jealous of himself.

AU - Everyone Lives | 6.1k | By Novkat21

Kiss?

Derek likes kissing Stiles, honestly he does. Until he doesn't.

Fluff | 3.6k | By clotpolesonly

Oblivious Misadventures, and Other Such Tales

Going to college was exciting and new, a chance for new friends and a fresh start, and the best part was, there was a supernatural fraternity on campus, meaning Scott finally had the freedom to be himself.

Then he met the resident human who came with a stalker alpha. What was the point of a supernatural fraternity if he still had to pretend to be human. And seriously, did Stiles ever fall asleep somewhere normal?

--

(aka - Five TImes Scott Found Derek and Stiles Sleeping, and the One Time He Didn't)

AU, Supernatural is real but not known by everyone, Alive Hale Family | 11.2k | By Little Spoon

Call Me (Cliché)

When the sheriff's sister ends up in a wheelchair for the duration of summer, Stiles' dreams of three months full of pack bonding, late-night video games and bro-time with Scott come crashing down. He's temporarily relocated to Redford, a three hour drive away, and he can already tell he won't be getting many visitors.

Sure the pack will forget about him while he's gone, Stiles is determined to make the most of his summer of isolation, training his body and mind - and his magic - so he can come back with a bang, and maybe catch a certain Sourwolf's eye.

Then Derek shows up at his window one night with a flimsy excuse about needing research done. Suddenly, his summer away is looking a whole lot more interesting.

AU - Canon Divergence | 84.6k | By Orphan_Account aka the author has dissociated themselves from the fic

Shiver

Stiles has really, really cold hands. Luckily, Derek knows just what to do about that.

Established Relationship | 1.7k | By canistakahari

Derek Hale's Possible Heart

An anon sent me a sterek prompt for Laura teasing Derek and Stiles joining in, then somehow sharing their feelings for each other in the mess of things.

AU - Canon Divergence | 4.3k | By loserchildhotpants

What's a Secret Identity?

Stiles sipped at a mug of coffee, absently watching the news play in the break room. Because of course a news station couldn't play anything other than its own content, even in the one part of the office that was supposed to be a safe space from work. His interview with Superman was making a rerun and Stiles glanced at Derek before commenting absently, “I’d totally let Superman fuck me.”

Derek, who had been in the middle of a swig of coffee, choked violently, “That’s not something I needed to know at nine in the morning, Stiles.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “What time would you prefer I tell you about all of the things I would let Superman do to my body?”

AU, Derek is Superman | 7k | By Chrystie, imabignerd and kate882

i see that you've come so far [just like them old stars]

But her big brother’s unwillingness to touch anyone, like he thinks he doesn’t deserve it isn’t the only thing she notices. She also notices how Stiles doesn’t touch him.

Everyone reaches for Derek in some form or another, but Stiles- Stiles is something different altogether because he reaches for Derek but he never makes contact.

He’ll be trying to shimmy past Derek and instead of putting a hand on his arm like most of them do, he’ll reach out with a hand and stop it scant centimeters away from Derek’s skin.

Or they’ll be walking alongside each other and Stiles will hover a hand on Derek’s lower back.

It’s both fascinating and tragic to watch, like NASA lost control of one of their robots and instead of it landing on the moon it’s fated to gravitate around it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 2.3k | By crossroadswrite

Déjà Vu

There’s a shop in Beacon Hills that no one knows anything about except that the mysterious proprietor, a witch in whispered circles, knows what you need before you do and that the things given are always just what you need.

Derek, lost after a breakup, heads into the shop to see if he can find something to help him forget his ex. The witch gives him a potion to drink, and when Derek wakes up, he finds he’s sixteen again and there’s a new student at his school, Stiles Stilinski.

Everything is familiar and yet not, and Derek finds he’s strangely drawn to Stiles in a way that is entirely supernatural.

AU, Supernatural is Real | 8.8k | By gremlins-came-and-got-me and StaciNadia

Start Small, Like Oak Trees

The months following Allison's death have passed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem to lose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts. Eventually, he thinks, he'll just fade away. He isn't sure anyone would notice. Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Hale attempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory the world doesn't seem so awful.

He's not sure what he'd been expecting when he eventually convinces Derek to move into the Stilinski's spare bedroom, but a newfound passion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn't it.

AU - Canon Divergence | 24.2k | By SmallBirds

Undercover K9

As it usually goes, Derek acts before he thinks. This time he has a good reason, though-it's all Stiles' fault. Mostly.

Or, that time when Derek volunteered to spend all his spare time as a wolf with the Beacon Hills Sheriff's Office K9 Unit, just to protect Stiles' dumb ass.

Future Fic | 17.9k | By Cobrilee

Rose Colored Glasses

“Obviou—um, what? Derek?” Stiles managed. “What? You’re not colorblind. You’re colorblind?”

“Yes.” Derek said gruffly. “And?”

“And? What do you mean and? You can’t see colors?” Stiles demanded, thrown. “Does it—what kind is it? Red-green? Blue-yellow? Why doesn’t—oh my god, is this why your entire freaking wardrobe was completely black until like two years ago? Oh my god!”

“There’s nothing wrong with having a favorite color, Stiles.”

Established Relationship | 2.2k | By SassyStarboard

1,460 Days (gotta clean my slate)

Two years after Scott becomes Alpha and Derek gives it up for Cora, Stiles gets hurt during a fight and ends up in a coma for two weeks. According to the nurse, a guy has been visiting him every day and, as much as he wishes it were Derek, it sounds a lot like Scott. Except he and Scott aren't even friends anymore.

AU - Canon Divergence | 10k | By army_of_angels

This is it for now. Happy reading y'all! ♥️