#though I suppose we have more than our fair share of coffee cookies already

[quibbs126]

We need more Dark Cacao Kingdom Cookies so that we can kick Affogato off the Dark Cacao Kingdom team

[thiswasinevitableid]

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

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

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

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

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

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

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

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

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

[kpophours]

Sweet Night (M)

➵ Stray Kids: Bang Chan x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, camping trip AU / fluff, smut / REQUESTED

➵ warnings: slight cursing, explicit mentions of sex (slight public teasing, orgasm denial, oral: receiving, slight choking)

➵ word count: 6k (lol oops)

a/n: after a few anon requests/inquiries, I decided to write this one shot as the second part to Way to You - you can absolutely read this on its own though.

I’M WALKING ON SUNSHINE, OOOOOOH! I’M WALKING ON-

Your eyes fly open as soon as the song starts blaring from somewhere beside you, and you blindly fumble for the alarm clock, thankfully managing to find the off-switch quite quickly. This very annoying clock was a horrible yet also kinda thoughtful birthday gift from Chan’s roommates, as it’s quite possibly the loudest one on the market, meaning it is able to wake literally anyone. It could probably even wake Dracula from his deep slumber in the depths of his castle somewhere in Romania. And while Chan might not be a vampire, he isn’t one to wake easily either, so this extremely loud alarm clock was the only solution your friends had been able to come up with. Which sadly means you experience something close to a heart attack every morning - or well, at least a few times a week, as you do still spend some nights at the apartment you share with Jisung. 

You fall back into the pillows, heart still racing from the sudden noise. Pale sunlight filters through the curtains and into the otherwise dark room. You groan, blinking against the rays of light hitting you straight in the face, and turn around to cuddle into your boyfriend’s broad back. He hums, only half-awake himself, and turns around to wrap both arms around you, leaving a lazy kiss on your forehead. 

Suddenly, there’s a crash from somewhere in the house, and you jump. Chan sighs deeply, and murmurs “Hyunjin, probably.” under his breath - it’s no secret that his roommate is a walking disaster. You don’t answer, only pressing a soft kiss on his naked chest. “How’d you sleep?”, he asks, one hand beginning to trace gentle patterns on your bare back. “Like a rock - which was exactly what I needed after my midterms.”, you answer, and he nods. “You more than deserved that, babe. I’m really proud of you, by the way. I’m sure you aced all your exams.”, he says, and you can’t help but smile at his sweet words. You look up at him, gently cupping his cheek, and kiss him. He basically melts against you, pulling you even closer towards him, and bites down on your lower lip to slide his tongue into your mouth. Before this can end in a steamy morning make-out session, there’s a knock on Chan’s door. He groans and draws back from you, expression grumpy. “What?”, he then yells, shooting daggers towards his door. “Just wanted to make sure you’re up, we’re supposed to be leaving in an hour!”, Felix answers, sounding way too cheerful so early in the morning. “Ugh, I hate morning people. Just once I want to get up in the morning without having to go through the seven stages of grief first.”, you mumble, your warm breath tickling Chan’s neck and making him giggle and wiggle away from you. “Yeah, we’re up!”, he quickly answers Felix, who shuffles away from the door, before turning towards you again, “Wait, aren’t there only five stages of grief? What are your extra two?” “Denial part two and astral projection.”, you answer, and Chan laughs before giving you a soft smile, brushing some of your hair out of your face. 

“Breakfast?”, he then asks, and you nod. “Absolutely. I need coffee, and lots of it.”, you agree, and he rolls his eyes. “I swear, by now there’s definitely coffee running through your veins instead of blood.”, Chan mumbles, before jumping out of bed to grab his underwear from the floor. You just chuckle and follow him, but can’t seem to find your bra anywhere. “What the Hell…”, you mumble under your breath, twirling around once in a desperate attempt to locate it. “Uh. Looking for this?”, Chan asks and you follow his gaze. You both burst into loud laughter when you spot your bra happily dangling from the ceiling light. “Well, we had to be very fast yesterday evening. Clothes went flying, and quite literally it seems.”, you say, lips twitching while you stand on your tiptoes to get your bra, and Chan nods in agreement. “Very fast indeed - but we couldn’t let the others begin the movie night without us! We had valid reasons.” He grins and wraps both arms around your waist to pull you close to him again, giving you a quick peck on the lips. When you want to deepen the kiss, he draws back again, expression stern. “No time for that, we have to get ready, eat breakfast and you still need to pack some of your stuff before we can leave. And we don’t want to let the others wait, right?” You sigh and pout. “No, we don’t, apparently.”, you just answer, and wiggle into your jeans and turtleneck, finally ready to leave the privacy of Chan’s room and get something to eat.

The scent of fresh coffee and pancakes greets you when you arrive downstairs, and you inhale deeply. Felix is standing in front of the stove, humming a soft tune under his breath while working on making the tower of pancakes beside him even taller. He turns around when you enter the kitchen, giving you his signature sunshine smile. “Morning, Y/N.”, he greets you, “Slept well?” You nod and peek over his shoulder. “Yup. And have I ever told you how much I love you?”, you ask, stealing a piece of pancake directly out of the pan, and Felix tries to swat your hand away before he chuckles. “Shouldn’t you say that to Chan, not to me?”, he replies, and your boyfriend, just entering the kitchen behind you, sighs deeply. “She’s an opportunist, meaning she’ll tell anyone she loves them if it means she gets what she wants, so beware. I actually rarely hear her say it to me.”, Chan says warningly, and you shoot him a dark look. “Oh shut up, that’s so not true. I tell you I love you at least once or twice a day, you needy baby.”, you grumble, and just then, Minho joins the small kitchen party. “Needy baby? You’re not talking about Hyunjin, are you?”, he asks, ruffling his crazy bed hair while filling a mug with coffee, sighing contently when he takes the first sip. You grin and shake your head, before taking a mug out of the cabinet yourself. 

Said roommate also enters the kitchen just then, face looking quite puffy. You raise both eyebrows. “Did you cry yourself to sleep last night?”, you ask, and take a sip of coffee to hide your shit-eating grin. Hyunjin throws you a dark glare, and crosses both arms in front of his chest. “No. But I did have a slight mental breakdown after realizing I probably failed my last exam yesterday, so I decided to treat myself to some late-night-ramen, and now I look like this.”, he points at his face, beginning to pout, “God just hates pretty people, he’s clearly punishing me for my dashing looks.” “Or maybe he just doesn’t like narcissists.”, Jeongin offers when he enters the kitchen, shoving Minho out of the way to get to the kitchen cabinet almost overflowing with mugs. You decide it’s finally getting too crowded in the kitchen, and leave it again. You’re absolutely not a morning person, and can’t deal with the boys’ constant bickering without having experienced the positive effect of the caffeine you’re currently consuming. 

Seungmin is sitting on one of the sofas, currently scrolling through Instagram and apparently trying to like every cute puppy pic in existence. “Morning.”, you greet him and take a seat beside him, peeking over his shoulder and cooing at an extremely cute baby golden retriever. Seungmin just greets you with a curt nod of his head, not being a morning person either, and keeps scrolling. Minutes later, Felix enters the living room, balancing a giant plate of fresh pancakes in front of him while all the other boys follow him like stray dogs. “What would you guys even do without Felix cooking for you all the time?”, you ask, mouth watering when you inhale the delicious smell. “Starve and die.”, Seungmin deadpans, while Jeongin answers: “We’d have to look at Hyunjin’s ugly bloated face every day because we’d solely live off ramen.” Hyunjin hits the back of his head for that, but the younger boy just shoots him his cheshire cat grin. “I mean, I could cook too, I guess.”, Chan says, frowning, and everyone bursts into loud laughter. “Wow okay, I’ll try not to take this personally…”, your boyfriend grumbles, and sits down at the dining table. You slide onto the chair next to him, and pat his thigh affectionately. “I love you, babe, but you literally didn’t know how to whisk eggs when we wanted to bake cookies last week.”, you say, and Chan sighs. “That’s... sadly fair. But I could learn!” 

“No offense, but we actually like our kitchen intact - thanks for your humble offering though. If Felix should die unexpectedly, we might get back to you.”, Minho answers, and before the situation can escalate into a playful bickering battle, Felix yells “SO, WHO WANTS PANCAKES?!”, successfully managing to distract everyone. 

One and a half hours later, everyone is packed and ready to go - you’ve planned this little getaway for almost two months now, everyone having finished their first round of exams at this time of year and being able to just relax for a bit. For some reason, the boys had wanted to go camping, and as you, Jisung’s girlfriend Lina and Hyunjin’s girlfriend Marie were clearly outnumbered by the boys, you hadn’t really had the chance to disagree with them. But you honestly don’t even mind, having gone camping lots of times already and just being happy to enjoy some time with your closest friends. Only Changbin won’t be able to join you guys, as he’s currently doing an internship and wasn’t able to request some time off. 

Chan is just about to lock the front door to the frat house, when Jeongin zooms past you, yelling for his older roommate to wait. “I forgot something extremely important!”, he explains, almost breathless, and disappears into the house again. “What’s he getting now?”, your boyfriend wonders, and shoots you a questioning gaze. You just shrug, and let your bag fall to the ground, too lazy to hold onto it while waiting for the youngest of your group. A few minutes later, Jeongin comes back, a huge grin on his face and a giant stuffed animal in his arms. Chan blinks a few times, and opens his mouth to say something, but he gets cut off by the younger boy: “You guys can cuddle with each other, but I’d rather throw myself off a cliff than cuddle with Minho, Felix or Seungmin, whoever I’ll end up sharing a tent with. But I do wanna cuddle with someone, so Mr. Sunshine it is.”, he explains stoically, and you just nod in support. “I totally get that, plus I wouldn’t be too sure that Minho doesn’t just turn into a bat or something like that during the night. He’s at least part demon, we all know that.”, you say, and Jeongin giggles. 

You’re truly prepared to give him anything whenever he smiles at you like this, his eyes almost disappearing, teeth almost blindingly bright. While you detain from squishing his cheeks, you do poke the dimple on his left one, being too endeared by him. He swats your hand away, of course he does, but you still bask in the victory of having poked his cheek. One thing to cross off your to-do-list for today. 

“Okay, let’s go to the others.”, Chan finally says after locking the house, and without you having to say anything, he takes his and your bag and walks over to where the others are waiting beside the cars. Chivalry is not dead and you’re ready to swoon over your amazing boyfriend. “Okay, we still have to pick up Jisung, Lina and Marie.”, Chan says after he’s put your bags into the trunk of his car, “So, who’s gonna ride in which car?” “Well I obviously want to ride with Marie.”, Hyunjin says, a goofy smile on his face - they have been together for almost a year now, but he’s still very much extremely whipped for her, but luckily, she seems to feel the exact same way -, and Minho murmurs a sarcastic “Shocking, really.” under his breath. “I want Jisung and Lina in our car.”, you quickly say, and Chan gives you a short nod. Of course you’d say that - Jisung is your best friend after all, and you’ve grown quite close to Lina as well. You’re also good friends with Marie, but Jisung just wins this round - not that you’d ever tell that to his face, he’s too cocky as it is, no need to push his ego even more. “Then Minho, you take Hyunjin, Marie, Felix and Seungmin, and I take Y/N, Jisung, Lina and Jeongin, okay?”, Chan suggests, and everyone agrees. Five minutes later, all the bags are safely stored away and everyone has taken their seats. Being Chan’s girlfriend means you get to ride shotgun, something you’re more than thankful for, knowing how crowded the backseat is going to be once you’ve picked up Jisung and Lina. “See you in a bit!”, Felix yells through his open window, and flashes you his extremely cute gummy smile. You wave at him, immediately returning his smile, and successfully ignore Minho’s mock salute and cocky grin while he backs out of his parking spot, almost cutting Chan off.

Twenty minutes later, Jisung and Lina are squished into the backseat with Jeongin, all three having bright smiles on their faces. “Road trip, whoop!”, Jisung yells and gives you a high five, “Happy to have a few days with y’all before we have to face the sad reality of probably having failed most of our exams!” Lina beside him rolls her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic, I’m sure most of us will have aced everything.”, she says, and Jisung wraps his arm around her and kisses her temple. “Sorry, but I have literally only one functioning brain cell and I use it to overthink.”, he explains, yelping when she playfully tickles his side. You chuckle at their bickering, and hit play on your road trip playlist - a second later, Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody fills the car, all of you immediately beginning to sing along. “LET’S GO!”, Chan yells over the sad attempts of everyone trying to imitate Freddy Mercury, and backs out of the parking lot. You smile and interlace your fingers with his. He cheekily returns your smile, and raises your intertwined hands to his lips to press a soft kiss against your knuckles. Over a year of being with him, but you still swoon over this simple yet sweet gesture. Yes, you’re just that whipped for your boyfriend, and what about it. 

It doesn’t take long for you guys to arrive on the interstate, you and Jisung trying to trump each other's impressions of Beyoncé singing Single Ladies (and failing miserably, sorry Queen B). Your belly almost hurts from laughing with your friends, and you can’t wait for the rest of the weekend to begin. 

Minho’s car arrives before Chan’s, and of course he’s gloating about it the second you guys join forces again. But you can let him have this small victory, and decide to just ignore him for now, helping Chan get the bags out of his car and to the campsite. It’s quite cold, the air crisp now that the sun is slowly beginning to set again, but you brought lots of blankets and sleeping bags, so you should be fine. And at least the weather means there aren’t any other campers here right now, so you have the whole area, including the washing rooms, to yourselves, which is nice. 

Setting up camp takes longer than anticipated, mostly because Jisung somehow manages to crash into his and Lina’s almost finished tent twice, which means they have to start from the very beginning again. She truly has the patience of a saint, simply smacking him over the head rather playfully before picking up the sad remains of their tent to begin the whole building process again. Chan and you, having gone camping lots of times already, are quickest with finishing your tent, so afterwards you offer to help Jisung and Lina with theirs, while Chan does the same for Minho and Jeongin. Marie, an experienced scout, has set up hers and Hyunjin’s tent in record time as well, and takes pity on Felix and Seungmin, quickly building the tent for them. After an hour, your camp has successfully been built, and everyone begins to search for firewood.

Felix decides to make a giant pot of spicy chili sin carne for tonight’s dinner, and as soon as all the plates are filled, your conversations slowly dwindle down, everyone too busy with eating. “Lix, you’re a cooking genius, Gordon Ramsey found jobless.”, Marie says around a mouthful of chili, giving the blonde boy a bright smile and the thumbs up. He waves her compliment aside, blushing profoundly. “Thanks, but it’s honestly not that difficult - you just have to follow the recipe, if you’re too scared to improvise.”, he murmurs, and she throws a small piece of kindling at him. “You should really learn how to take compliments.”, she teases playfully, and he shrugs. “Okay, okay, I’m the best cook ever.”, he says sarcastically, and Minho raises one eyebrow. “Whoa, now don’t get ahead of yourself.”, he replies, and Felix smacks him over the head. “You can’t cook at all, so for once, you should just stay quiet.”, you say, and Minho sighs dramatically. “What can I say… We all have our weaknesses. I, for example, am extremely good-looking and tragically funny.” 

You almost choke on your chili because of his audacity, and lift your fork in front of your face, staring through it and at Minho, who just frowns at you. “What are you doing? Why are you looking at me through your fork?”, he asks, obviously confused by your behavior, and you give him a lopsided smile. “I’m pretending you’re in jail, it’s spiritually healing.”, you explain, and Chan beside you bursts into laughter, the others following him quickly. Minho begins to pout and sticks out his tongue at you, always the mature one. “It’s okay if you don’t enjoy my dashing looks and hilarious humor, not everyone has good taste. That’s why you picked Chan over me after all.”, he claims, and you answer by throwing a piece of wood his way, making him squeal and dive for cover. Just then, the flames of your fire flicker and slowly begin to die down. Seungmin, Jeongin and Hyunjin stand up to go get some more firewood, but somehow, the latter one’s shoe gets caught between two logs and with a loud yelp, he tumbles to the ground. “What the Hell is he doing?!”, Chan groans, and Jeongin deadpans “Sadly his best.”, before he begins walking over towards his friend to help him, but Marie is faster, already dragging her boyfriend up from the ground with tears of laughter in her eyes. Hyunjin’s cheeks are red from embarrassment and he murmurs something about nature being out to get him, before he, Marie and the other two boys disappear into the forest to get more firewood.

The rest of the evening is filled with playful banter, soft guitar music from Jisung, and funny childhood stories. Lina soon begins to nod off, her head resting on her boyfriend’s shoulder while he continues to strum a soft tune on his guitar, humming along. When he notices his girlfriend is about to wander into Morpheus’ realm though, he’s quick to place the guitar back into its bag, and wraps both arms around her. “I think it’s time for us to retire, huh?”, he says, leaving a gentle kiss on Lina’s forehead. She blinks sleepily, and smiles up at him. “It’s pretty safe to assume that at any given moment, I want to go back to sleep - so yes, I agree, time to retire.”, she answers, and Jisung chuckles, before standing up to declare: “Well, we’re off to bed now!” Minho and Seungmin boo immediately, while Jeongin murmurs something like “Old people” under his breath - even though he’s literally only one year younger than most of you guys. 

“So, as I’m legally required to kiss my homies goodnight, y’all getting some smooches!”, Jisung says, already walking towards where Hyunjin and Marie are sitting, bodies entangled and breaths mingling. Hyunjin looks up and shoots his friend a murderous look. “I swear, if you kiss me, I’m going to dump you into the river.”, he threatens, but Jisung just grins. “How about you dump your girlfriend instead and run away with me? We’d make such a pretty couple.”, he says, making Hyunjin roll his eyes. “Bro, no offense, but I’d be the pretty one in this relationship, and while everyone can clearly see you already have quite the experience being the ugly one in a relationship” with that, Hyunjin first points at Jisung and then at Lina, who bursts out laughing, “I don’t think I’m ready to hear your constant whining about my face being prettier than yours. So thanks, but no thanks, I’ll stay with Marie.” “Wow, I feel so honored and loved right now, babe.”, Marie says sarcastically, “But does this mean you think you’re the pretty one in this relationship as well?” Hyunjin goes into instant panic mode, quickly reassuring his girlfriend that she’s far prettier than him, while she tries to keep a stern expression on her face, but everyone can clearly see the way her lips twitch. She just loves teasing Hyunjin, and you honestly can’t blame her for that, especially not when it’s just so easy. 

“Okay, goodnight, then!”, Lina interrupts their playful bickering, and gives everyone a soft smile, before dragging Jisung towards their tent. Everyone wishes them a good night and sweet dreams as well, and then Seungmin clears his throat. “Time for some ghost stories, don’t you think?”, he says, voice low and grin almost evil when his eyes find Hyunjin, who immediately falls silent. Everyone knows he’s a huge scaredy cat, which is quite funny seeing as his own girlfriend is a big fan of horror movies and stories. Truly a match made in Heaven. Seungmin just raises one eyebrow, expression challenging - but when no one contradicts him, he begins to tell his first ghost story. 

It doesn’t take long until Hyunjin is pretty much sitting on Marie’s lap, shooting daggers at his friend while his girlfriend is trying very hard not to laugh at him. You yourself cuddle closer to your own boyfriend, smiling when he presses a soft kiss against your temple. Your eyes rest on the big bonfire, following some sparks drifting into the dark night sky from time to time, and you sigh contently. This, right here, is your happy place - in the midst of your friends, just laughing and joking with them, not a care in the world. Midterms lie behind you, and you’re currently not even thinking about your grades for once, your anxiety at rest. This trip was truly a great idea, maybe even Jisung’s best one so far. 

“Okay, wanna hear a really creepy one-”, Seungmin begins, and Hyunjin has finally had enough, standing up and taking Marie’s hand into his. “Well, goodnight!”, he says, a determined expression on his face, and pulls his girlfriend towards their tent. Marie suppresses an amused smile at her boyfriend’s dramatics, and waves at everyone, before following him inside the tent. Seungmin just grins evilly and shrugs. “He’s so soft hearted.”, he then says, and leans back, obviously content with his work. “Okay, maybe it’s three demons, not only two.”, you murmur into Chan’s ear, and he chuckles. You’re always joking about Minho and Hyunjin being demons, as they’re constantly testing your nerves by just being themselves, plus they were definitely the main plotters behind the plan to get you and Chan together - not that you’re complaining about it as their plan had worked pretty perfectly and in your favor. “In the end you’ll probably find that I live with six demons.”, your boyfriend murmurs, and begins to play with your fingers. You shake your head. “Oh no, Felix is definitely an angel, not a demon.”, you disagree, and Chan nods. “Okay, that’s true. The others though… Well, time will tell, I guess.” “Or holy water.” He just laughs and gives you a quick peck on the lips. When you want to deepen the kiss, he draws back. “Later.”, he murmurs against your lips, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, and you shiver involuntarily. He grins at your reaction, before turning his attention to Seungmin’s new ghost story again. 

You on the other hand feel hot and bothered all of the sudden, and decide to tease your boyfriend a bit. So you place your hand on his thigh, not moving it for some time, until you slowly slide it higher, bit by bit. At first, Chan doesn’t seem to notice or care, until you’re getting dangerously close to his crotch. Then, he quickly leans forward so the others can’t see what you’re doing, and glares at you. “What are you doing?”, he asks, voice low, and you smile innocently. “Nothing.”, you answer, and have finally reached your desired destination, slowly beginning to palm his semi over his jeans. “How about you be a good girl and stop?”, he breathes out, but you know he doesn’t actually want you to stop - you know him well enough for that by now. Still, you decide to play along. “Oh, I’ll gladly be your good girl.”, you whisper, and quickly withdraw your hand. He groans at your words and the sudden lack of contact, and locks eyes with you. “Tent. Now.”, he grits out, and stands up, pulling you with him and hugging you from behind so your body hides his erection from the others. “We’re tired too, so goodnight!”, he says in a fake cheerful voice, and you have to hide your shit-eating grin while innocently waving at the others. “Oh you’re in so much trouble now, babe.”, Chan murmurs into your ear while you walk towards your tent, and bites down on your lobe. You feel arousal gather between your legs, stomach jolting at his words. You and Chan have a very playful relationship, full of bantering and loving jokes, and your dynamic in the bedroom isn’t that different - there’s a lot of bickering too, you being a total brat at times, while he’s more on the dominant side, enjoying making you obedient.  

As soon as he closes the tent behind you and turns around to watch you with an almost predatory gaze, you know you might have been a bit too forward at the bonfire. But it’s too late to back down now, so you simply raise both eyebrows, a challenging expression on your face. “So you think touching me like that in front of our friends is okay?”, Chan asks, his voice low and dark. You tilt your head to one side. “I mean, you didn’t seem opposed to it, to be honest.”, you answer, and now he’s the one to lift both eyebrows. “I want you out of your clothes, now.”, your boyfriend orders, and for once, you follow his command immediately, knowing this is for your own good this time. So you quickly wiggle out of your jeans and take off your jumper, shivering in the cold night air. Only left in your panties and bra, Chan smirks to himself, before crawling over your body and beginning to kiss you slowly. You gasp into his mouth when one of his warm hands finds your waist, drawing lazy circles against it, before traveling higher to cup your breast over your bra. His thumb rubs over your clothed nipple before pinching it, hard, and you arch your back, breath hitching. 

“So, let’s see how quiet you can stay while I eat you out, hm? Remember, the walls of the tent are too thin to mask any noises.”, Chan whispers against your lips, before he suddenly descends down your body. Oh no, you know you’re screwed. He’ll try to make you scream his name, but while you’re quite open about sex and have no problem talking about it with your friends, you definitely don’t need them to hear you during the actual act. Maybe you shouldn’t have teased your boyfriend after all - but it’s too late now, he’s determined. He spreads your legs, and begins to leave soft love bites on the inside of your thighs. You’re trembling already, and it’s not because of the cold alone. Chan always has this effect on you, no matter how often he touches you - you’ll never get used to it. He plays with the hem of your panties, until he finally drags them down your legs, his warm breath hitting your wet core. You begin to squirm, impatient to have him finally touch you where you need him most. He smacks your thigh, the crack resounding through the tent, and you yelp. “Chan.”, you hiss, and he grins cheekily, before suddenly pressing his thumb to your clit, beginning to draw lazy circles against it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and you clamp one hand over your mouth to mask any noises. 

Chan soon replaces his thumb with his mouth, sucking on your clit like his life depends on it while simultaneously sliding two fingers inside your heat. A loud moan tears from your lips and you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to stifle your noises but already failing miserably. You feel Chan smirk against you, and then, he slips a third finger inside you, curling them upwards and picking up the pace. You buck your hips against his gentle ministrations, skin feeling too hot and too tight already, goosebumps rising all over your body. It doesn’t take long until you begin to tremble, your high approaching rather quickly, and you’re this close to finally snapping, when Chan draws back from your core, face glistening with your juices, his smirk almost devilish. “I can’t hear you, babe, are you even enjoying this?”, he murmurs, back to drawing lazy patterns on your clit with his thumb. You feel frustration wash over you, and shoot him a dark glare. His grin gets even wider, before he completely withdraws his hand from your heat to suck on his glistening fingers. You close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to gather your wits, until Chan slaps your thigh again. “Look at me, baby.”, he says, voice dark, and your eyes snap open again. You begin to pout. “Please.”, you mumble, trying your best to appeal to his softer side, “I’m sorry I was a brat earlier. You know I can’t be loud or the others might hear us.” Your boyfriend just hums, hands ghosting over your thighs and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Too bad, I guess you can’t cum tonight then.” And before you’re able to reply anything, he dives back in-between your folds. 

You throw one arm over your mouth, and bite your own soft flesh to suppress any noises. It takes little to no time until you’re close to your orgasm again, but for the second time tonight, Chan draws back in the last possible second. You’re almost ready to cry with frustration now, eyes glistening with unshed tears. When your boyfriend sees this, he softens a bit and leans towards you to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “This is what you get for being a brat.”, he murmurs, and you bite down on his lower lip, making him groan into your mouth. “Please.”, you whisper and try your best puppy eyes on him. He just smirks again, finally ridding himself off his shirt, jeans and underwear. When he’s fully naked in front of you, you sigh, eyes raking his beautiful, defined body. Unlike you, Chan actually enjoys going to the gym - and his effort pays off. “Stop drooling.”, he says, sounding way too pleased and cocky in your opinion. So you quickly sit up, and wrap one hand around his hard cock, already leaking with pre-cum. Good to see you’re not the only one being affected by this, you think and grin. You begin to slowly jerk him off, spreading the pre-cum over the rest of his cock as lube. He groans, lower lip pulled back between his teeth and eyes almost black with desire. Finally, he’s had enough, and pushes you on your back again, hovering over you. “There’s condoms in the bag behind you.”, he murmurs, leaving gentle kisses on your neck until he finds your sweet spot, beginning to suck on it. You moan almost inaudible, fingers fumbling for said bag to retrieve a condom. 

Just seconds later, Chan rolls it over his cock, and then, he aligns himself in front of your wet core, teasingly rubbing your clit before you shoot him a pleading look. He finally sheathes himself into you with one swift motion, and you both moan out loud at the feeling. You quickly cough to cover the noise, making Chan chuckle and press a kiss against your forehead. “You’re okay?”, he asks, and you nod, biting down on his neck and leaving a hickey. He groans and finally begins to move, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you, immediately hitting that spot. Your fingers wrap around his biceps, needing something to hold onto while he drills into you. Suddenly, he pulls out of you to sit back on his knees, wrapping your legs around his hips, and thrusts back into you at an even deeper angle, simultaneously picking up the pace. One of his hands snakes towards your neck and he wraps his fingers around the base of your throat, using just enough pressure to make breathing harder for you. When his thumb begins to circle your clit again, you close your eyes, clamping one hand over your mouth to mask your almost obscene noises. 

“C-Chan, I’m so c-close.”, you say in between two moans, and he grins, murmuring a “That’s my girl” under his breath before deepening the angle even more. He suddenly pinches your clit once, and that’s all it takes for you to finally tumble over the edge, his name leaving your lips maybe a bit too loud this time. He quickly leans forward to seal your mouth with his, chasing his own high while guiding you through yours. Not long after, he groans and presses his forehead against yours, shuddering a bit while releasing into the condom. He stills inside you, both your breaths mingling, hearts beating fast while you try to come down from your high. Chan smiles, brushing some of your hair out of your face, and gives you a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you.”, he murmurs, and you return his smile. “Love you more.”, you whisper back, and he chuckles. “Impossible.” 

Before you can begin to playfully argue, Minho’s voice cuts through the night “Next time we’ll build the tents far away from each other, y’all are nasty for doing it with us sitting almost right next you.” Both you and Chan freeze, before you burst out laughing. “WE HAVE ZERO REGRETS.”, you yell back, hearing the others groan. “WELL, YOU REALLY SHOULD THOUGH!”, Jisung complains from somewhere to your left, and you hear Lina starting to giggle. You groan and bury your face into Chan’s neck. “They’ll never let us hear the end of this, will they.”, you murmur against his soft skin, and he shakes his head. “Nope.” You sigh and lean back. “Well, it was still worth it.”, you say, and grin up at him. Your boyfriend just smirks and leans down to kiss you again. “Oh, definitely.”

[masterlist] | [requests] 

[krisdreaming]

🎄 4th Day of Fluffmas 🎄

⟵ Day 3 | Masterlist | Day 5 ⟶

All the Way Home I’ll be Warm || Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

Word count: 3,813 (oops?) | Gender neutral reader

(prompt: “I sort of told my family I have an s/o and now I need someone to stand in for them – HELP”)

-

Day 0 (Briefing)

Kuroo is sitting across from you at the little cafe on campus, and for some reason he actually seems to be looking forward to the next few days. He even brought a notebook, but you can’t tell if he’s being serious about taking notes or if this is all part of the act. You had asked him because you knew he was always down to help you out with your late night adventures and crazy schemes, but this one might just be the craziest.

“Okay boss, what’s the plan?” He props his elbows on the table and leans closer to you. “Actually, before we get into that, I think I’m going to need a little back story. Why, exactly, do you need a fake boyfriend?”

“Well, you see...” You lift your mug closer to your face and peer into it for a moment. “It just gets really old having everyone ask about it at every family gathering, you know? I know I shouldn’t have lied but how was I supposed to know they would insist that I bring my boyfriend to Grandma’s?” You shoot Kuroo an apologetic smile.

“And that’s where I come in.” He finishes. You nod. 

“I’m curious.” He props his cheek on his fist. “How long is our relationship going to last? Are we meant to be?” He flashes you a cheeky grin, and you duck your head. Okay, maybe asking someone you already (possibly) have feelings for to be your fake boyfriend might not have been the best idea, but it’s too late to back out now.

“Actually, I have a feeling that next year, you’re going to leave to study abroad. We’ll probably make a mutual decision to end our relationship because we don’t want to deal with the long distance.” You laugh. “Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a repeat gig.”

“Wow, you’ve really thought this through.” Kuroo actually does write something down in his notebook. “So, do we have any cute nicknames for each other?”

“Hmm.” You hum in thought. “Probably nothing too crazy. We’ve only been dating for four months.”

He nods sagely. “Well, you can call me Tetsurou, I don’t mind. Or Tetsu.” He adds quickly. For a brief moment, you consider it.

“Oh, ah. I’ll stick with Tetsurou. Sounds good.” You manage a quick smile. “You can call me F/N.”

“You got it.” He makes another quick note. “Do we have a safe word?”

“A what?” You almost choke on the sip of coffee you’d just taken.

“A safe word.” He repeats. “You know, if things get too weird, we can use it to tell the other person to chill out.” You nod slowly. That was one thing you haven’t thought of. “If we’re just calling each other by our names, how about we just call each other Babe if we start to get uncomfortable? Will that make it worse?”

“No, it’s a good idea.” You nod. “Yeah, I’m cool with that.” You shake your head. “This is so weird, dude, I’m sorry.”

He laughs. “This is one of the most exciting things I’ve ever done. If this works out I might switch to a theater major.”

“No way, I think Chem might eat me alive if you leave me.” You grimace. “You’re the only reason I passed our lab last semester.”

“Kidding.” He finishes the last swallow of his coffee. “There’s no money in theater anyway, and if I switched majors I’d probably have to drag you with me. I’m too used to having you around.” He grins, a more sincere smile this time, and you can’t help but return it. 

“Well, that’s good, because you’re stuck with me. And just to warn you,” You have to change the subject before you get too flustered. “My Grandma is going to show you every single photo she’s ever taken of me. At Thanksgiving, it took her almost an hour to get through them with my cousin’s girlfriend.”

“Aw, little baby Y/N.” Kuroo laughs. “I might enjoy this too much.” He pushes back his chair, and you stand too. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” The early winter darkness has already fallen.

“Sure, thanks.” You fall into step beside him, stepping outside for the chilly walk across campus. 

“Thanks for helping me out.” You add, your words puffing steam into the air. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anytime.” He knocks his arm against yours. “To be honest, after all this talk about your Grandma’s cooking, I might have tagged along even if I didn’t have to pretend to be your boyfriend.” He laughs.

“You certainly won’t go hungry.” You agree. “She’ll make sure of that. Don’t blame me if it affects your volleyball physique.”

“Don’t worry, I’m naturally slender.” He pats his middle. “I’ve got the quickest metabolism you’ve ever seen.”

You shake your head. “If you say so.” By now, you’ve reached your dorm. “Oh, by the way!” You call out as he turns to go. “I don’t suppose there’s anything you can do about your hair?”

He turns back to face you. “Not a thing. Many have tried, none have succeeded.” He runs his hand through it and makes it stand even more on end.

“Fair enough.” You shrug. “They’ll have to deal. See you tomorrow.”

“Later!” He lifts his hand in farewell and turns to go. For a few more moments you stand and watch his retreating back. These next two days might be harder than you thought.

Day 1

“Here we are.” You announce as Kuroo gets out of his car and grabs his bag. You each drove your own car, and he’s parked right behind you in your Grandma’s driveway. “Ready for this?”

“Ready as ever.” He slings his bag over his shoulder. “Lead on.” You reach for the door, and before you can turn the handle it swings open with your Dad and Grandma behind it.

“Merry Christmas!” Your Grandma pulls you into a tight hug, and you breathe in the familiar scent of rose and sugar cookies. “Come in, come in.” She releases you and is immediately locked on Kuroo, who has a sheepish smile on his face.

“Oh my.” She looks up at him with a huge grin on her face. “Aren’t you quite the handsome young man! Just look at how tall he is.” She turns to your Dad, who has given you a quick hug and is now quickly sizing up Kuroo.

“Dad, Grandma, this is Kuroo Tetsurou.” He gives you a quick prompting glance. “My boyfriend.” You add, already feeling your cheeks grow warm at saying the words out loud.

“Nice to meet you.” Your Dad reaches out and catches Kuroo’s hand in a firm handshake. 

“It’s great to meet you sir.” Your Dad must approve of the handshake, because he gives Kuroo a nod and a smile.

“Come here.” Grandma gestures, and Kuroo leans down to be enveloped in a hug. 

“Thank you for having me, Ma’am.” Kuroo says the moment he’s released. A pleased grin breaks across her face.

“What a polite young man. Honey, it looks like you’ve found a good one.” She pats your shoulder.

“Guess so.” You smile.

“Well now, come, let me show you to your room.” You feel your eyes grow wide, and when she has turned her back you look at Kuroo and mouth room?? As in, singular? He gives the slightest of shrugs, and you follow her upstairs.

“Now, normally I would make sure you each have your own room, but we’re a bit full right now, and besides. I guess you’re all grown up now, aren’t you?” She gives you a fond smile and you survey the guest room she’s assigned to the two of you. A queen sized bed is the only sleeping surface in the room.

Luckily for you, Kuroo doesn’t miss a beat. “Thank you, this looks great.” He plops his duffel bag on the bed, and you follow suit.

“Thanks Grandma.” You echo.

“Dinner is at 6. Some of your cousins are here already, go find them once you’re settled in!” She bustles out to get back to her kitchen, and you let out a sigh.

“Sorry.” You grimace. “I figured there was no way we’d have to share a bed.”

“Hey, no big deal.” Kuroo shrugs. “I mean, it’s a huge bed. I’m not worried about it.” Realization dawns on his face. “But I’ll sleep on the floor if it’s weird for you.”

“Oh, no. No. That’s fine with me too. I’m good.” You manage a smile that you hope is reassuring. You and your brilliant ideas. You silently scold yourself. “Come on, let’s go find my cousins.”

It isn’t much of a surprise that your cousins adore Kuroo. He has them all laughing before you know it. One of them turns to you. “How did you get lucky enough to find someone like him?” 

Kuroo doesn’t miss a beat and slings his arm around your shoulders. You hope your flinch at the sudden contact isn’t too obvious. “I’m the lucky one, actually. Completely random lab assignment on the first day of the semester, and the rest is history.” He grins at you, and you laugh, finally reacting enough to slide your arm around his back. It’s not like you’ve never casually hugged before, but this feels a little different.

“Aww! That’s so adorable.” Your cousins all titter amongst themselves, and luckily, you’re saved at that moment by your Grandma announcing that dinner is ready.

Around the dinner table, the rest of the introductions take place. Kuroo easily answers the different questions asked of him about volleyball and his major. Soon, though, conversation turns to other things.

“So, Kuroo.” Your jokester uncle speaks up right as dessert is being brought to the table, and you’re already cringing. “Any thoughts on marriage?” Kuroo has his glass lifted to his lips, and he ends up spitting half of the water back into it as a coughing fit overtakes him. He recovers remarkably quickly and sets down his glass.

“Well, sir, we are still in college. For now we’re focusing on our studies.” He sends you a quick glance. Your uncle laughs loudly. You rest your hand on Kuroo’s arm in a way you hope is reassuring.

“I’m just messing with you, son. We’re all glad to have you here.”

“I’m glad to be here.” He nods. For some reason, this seems to be the first thing that’s actually shaken him. You give him a long glance with an eyebrow raised, but he just shakes his head ever so slightly, giving you a quick smile.

Everyone is still around the table chatting as your Grandma and aunts clear the dishes away, and before you know it she returns with a suspiciously familiar album in hand and a dastardly gleam in her eyes. The woman is ruthless.

“Oh, Kuroo-kun, I have some photos of y/n as a child if you’d like to see them! Ah, such a sweet child.” She hugs the album to her chest.

“You know, I would love to see them.” Kuroo sends you the biggest shit-eating grin he can muster, and you pout. He must have recovered from earlier. All you can do is sit helplessly beside him as your Grandma flips through the album page by page, going over each photo you appear in with excruciating detail. Kuroo is enjoying it a little too much, but you suppose it’s a small price to pay for what you’re putting him through.

Finally, the torture is over and everyone begins to turn in for the night. Pajamas on, you sit on the very edge of the bed mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you wait for Kuroo to finish in the bathroom.

“Well, that was an experience.” He appears, rubbing a towel on his still-damp hair.

“I’m sorry about my uncle!” You quickly blurt out. “He’s always saying stupid stuff like that.”

Kuroo waves his hand as though brushing it off. “It’s fine. Just caught me off guard. Marriage wasn’t in my notes.” He laughs. “You using that extra pillow?” He gestures to the spare on top of the dresser.

“All yours.” You say, finally crawling under the covers, as close to the edge on your side of the bed as you can get.

“So.” Kuroo gets in on his own side, arranging the pillows to his liking. “Think everyone’s buying it?”

You shrug. “Seems like it. You’re doing great. I never knew you were such a natural.”

“Yeah, well.” He looks away from you suddenly. “Neither did I. Guess I’m just a man of many talents.” He meets your gaze again and grins. “You’re not doing too bad yourself.”

You laugh weakly. “Thanks.” For a few moments, an awkward silence fills the room. “Well, goodnight.” You finally say, reaching over to turn out the light.

“Night.” He echoes back before smushing his face down into his pillows. It’s not the first time you’ve witnessed his sleeping habits, but it’s not something you can get used to so easily.

As he’d promised earlier, the bed is so large that the two of you aren’t touching at all, but there’s something about the sound of his breathing next to you that keeps you from falling asleep immediately.

Day 2

When the sun peeking through the blinds wakes you the next morning, you almost forget the exact circumstances you’re in. You slowly roll over as you wake up, and you almost yelp aloud at the sight of Kuroo laying next to you, silently scrolling through his phone.

“Oh, morning.” He whispers. The last traces of sleep are still in his voice, and he has marks on his face from where the pillow creases dug into his cheeks. You swallow hard, trying not to stare for too long. He looks softer this way. 

“Morning.” You whisper back. “You sleep alright?”

“Like a baby.” He confirms. “Must be the bed, I slept better than I usually do.”

“You’re almost free.” You change the subject, because you don’t want to admit that you also slept better than usual - after you finally fell asleep, that is. “I told Grandma you’d be leaving after the gift exchange this afternoon.”

“Sounds good to me.” He nods, sitting up a little straighter in bed. “Think there’s any coffee made?”

“Always is.” You grin, and the two of you make your way to the kitchen. Your Grandma and aunt are already there, chatting softly, so you pour each of you a mug and retreat to the empty living room.

“This is really nice.” Kuroo comments when you’re situated on the couch. “Your family is awesome. You’re pretty lucky.”

“I know.” You nod. “they’re crazy, but they’re mine.”

“I’m really glad you invited me along.” He says. “I know it’s a weird reason, but being part of your Christmas is kind of cool.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” You admit. “You fit in really well with them. They’re going to ask about you later, you know.”

“What can I say, I’m a popular guy.” He grins. “Maybe I’ll put off studying abroad for another year so I can come back again.”

“Maybe I’ll have a real boyfriend next year.” You’d meant it as a joke, but something changes on Kuroo’s face and you instantly regret saying it.

“Maybe.” He finally says, giving you the smallest of smiles. Before you can say anything more, your Grandma calls for breakfast.

It’s a lazy morning, and whatever strange thing had happened between you before breakfast, you both manage to ignore it. A game of team Monopoly ensues, and after Kuroo learns your family’s amended rules for the game he gets surprisingly into it. He’s back to his normal self, laughing and teasing you as you play. As it gets down to the last tense rounds between the two of you and your cousin and his girlfriend, he shuffles your money around.

“I can pull this off.” He murmurs to you. “$2,000 on Park Place, and-” his trap pays off, and your cousin gets stuck there and is forced to forfeit his entire savings to the two of you. “Victory!” He crows, and in his excitement he presses a firm kiss to your cheek. Instantly, your entire body is warm. You inhale sharply.

“Um, Babe.” You whisper, not really sure why this has affected you so much.

“I am so sorry.” Instantly, concern is written across his face. “I just got really excited.” He looks around, but no one is paying you much attention. Your cousin and his girlfriend have already gone off to scrounge for a snack. “I’m sorry.” He says again, gripping your arm. “That was way overstepping.”

“No, it’s fine. It wasn’t even a big deal.” You’re starting to relax, so you brush it off. “It just surprised me, that’s all. I’m fine.” He nods. He’s still quiet, though, and you can tell that it’s bothering him.

It’ll all be over soon, though. You only hope that things can go back to normal after this. The thought of losing your entire friendship with Kuroo over one of your crazy schemes makes you feel almost sick to your stomach.

Finally, it’s time for the gift exchange. Your family is gathered around in a circle, and the younger cousins are working on sorting through the gifts beneath the tree. “Okay everyone.” Your Grandma brings her hands together. “Let’s go around and talk about the good things that have happened this year.” It’s the yearly tradition. One by one, your family members share about fun vacations and promotions at work, anything that happened over the year that stood out to them as special.

Finally, it gets around to Kuroo. “We can skip you, if you want.” You say quickly. “I know it’s kinda weird.”

“Nah, no way!” He shakes his head. “I had a pretty great year, I might as well share about it a little bit.” He pauses, and now he’s looking fully at you. You bite down on your lip. “I met a pretty amazing person this year.” He begins. “We have so much fun together. They’re really special to me.” Murmurs go through the room, and you can see smiles growing on your family members’ faces. “I really mean that, Y/N. I can’t imagine my life without you.” Somehow, you can tell that this isn’t part of the charade. His expression is completely genuine, and his smile is filling his eyes.

“Wow.” Is all you can say, softly. “Thank you, Tetsurou.” Everyone’s eyes are on you, and you realize it’s your turn to share. You clear your throat.

“I had a pretty great year, too. I passed Chem lab which is a miracle in itself.” You chuckle lightly, still feeling a little unsettled by Kuroo’s declaration. “And I met a really great guy, too.” You shyly glance in Kuroo’s direction, and he nods in encouragement. “He’s my best friend, and I wouldn’t choose to be here with anyone else right now.” You mean every word, from the bottom of your heart.

With that, your turn is over, and your cousin’s girlfriend starts to share about the vacation they took to Italy over the summer, but you aren’t really paying attention. You’re too busy trying to untangle everything that has happened so far today. Is it possible...? You can’t even dare to ask yourself the question.

Soon enough, the presents are opened, the wrapping paper has been cleaned up, and your uncle is sacked out on the sofa, snoring away. Kuroo gets to his feet.

“Well, I think it’s about time I head out.” He stretches his arms over his head. “I’ll go grab my things.” He disappears for a few moments, and you wander over to the foot of the stairs to meet him when he returns.

“I want to go thank your Grandma.” He says, motioning toward the kitchen. You nod and follow behind him. “Hey, I’m leaving for home now.” He announces to your Grandma and two aunts who are in the kitchen. “But thank you so much for everything. The food was amazing, and I had a great time with your family. Thank you for making me feel welcome.”

“Oh.” Your Grandma waves her hand dismissively. “You deserve it. It’s obvious you make my grandchild very happy.” She smiles at you. “Thank you for coming, it was truly a pleasure to meet you. I hope we’ll see you again.” It’s a good thing she isn’t watching your face as she says that. Kuroo’s grin doesn’t waver.

“Thanks again.” He says with a wave as he ducks out of the kitchen. As you head outside, a chorus of goodbyes follows behind you. The moment the door closes, Kuroo releases a heavy sigh. “Whew.”

“Are you glad it’s over?” You ask hesitantly, standing by his car as he tosses his bag in the backseat.

“I really did have a great time.” He says, making no move to get in his car. “But I have to tell you something.” You nod slowly, and he reaches for your hands. “Is this okay?” You nod again.

“Yeah.” You manage, barely above a whisper.

“I’m really sorry I got so weird earlier. It’s just what you said about having a real boyfriend next year... Y/N, I want to be your real boyfriend. And I probably should have told you that before we even left school, but I couldn’t find the words. I never thought someone like you existed. I had a stupid crush on you for so long. So... What do you say?” He looks at you expectantly.

“I would like that a lot.” You say, a grin growing across your face before you can stop it. You take a deep breath. “I guess I asked you to be my fake boyfriend because it was a hell of a lot easier than asking you to be my real boyfriend. It was stupid.”

“Good.” He says, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “Then that’s all that matters.” With that, he cups your face with his palm, slowly leaning in. “Oh. Can I...?”

“Yes.” You giggle, and he doesn’t waste any time in kissing you, soft and sweet. He pulls away, only to lean in for one more kiss.

“For the road.” He say softly, a huge smile on his face. He wraps you up in a tight hug. “I’ll see you after break. Call me tonight maybe?”

“Definitely.” You agree as he slowly steps away. “I’ll see you.” You lift your hand in a wave as he gets in his car and drives away, and for a few moments you just stand in the driveway, watching until his car is out of sight. When you turn to go back inside, all three of your cousins are at the window. One of them winks at you. You stick out your tongue at them, but right now you don’t even have room to feel annoyed.

[jaehyun-eclipsed]

Before I Met You | Twenty-One

Next Update: ~January 10, 2021

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark, Jaemin, Johnny) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

The following day, I woke up and began packing to go home for winter break. Jia had left early this morning to catch a flight back to Beijing, so I was left to my own thoughts about the upcoming lunch outing with Johnny.

I threw on some black jeans, a brown off-the-shoulder sweater, and black knee-high boots. I was finally able to go back to my norm of taking the morning to do my hair and makeup after showing up with minimal effort during finals week.

Yes, I wanted to look cute for this “date,” but I was also just happy to not look like I had just rolled out of bed before going out every day.

I meet Johnny in his room and walk out of the house together with Hendery who was on his way to the airport.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Hendery asks.

I’m taken by surprise because I thought Hendery knew Johnny and I were hanging out today, but quickly realizing that Johnny didn’t mention it, I’m not sure how much to tell him.

“Oh, um, Johnny and I are just hanging out today. I think he needs to drop off a book and then we’re gonna grab some food.”

“Oh.”

We wish Hendery goodbye, parting ways as he gets onto a bus heading to the airport. I follow Johnny to drop off his book and afterwards, we opt to grab lunch at my favorite Korean place near campus. The restaurant is basically empty midafternoon with the exception of a few students celebrating the end of finals.

“So, you’re not seeing anyone?” Johnny asks.

I shake my head. “No.”

“Why not?”

Because I’m me. I get involved with people that seem to have weird issues and the person I’m currently interested in has a girlfriend, and yet, I’m still hanging out with him.

Shrugging, I press my lips together before finally saying, “Haven’t found anyone I’m interested in, I guess.”

“What are you looking for then?”

“Someone respectable and smart. Someone I can talk to about anything,” I say. “Someone who isn’t going to have a problem with me having guy friends.”

“Having guy friends?” He quirks an eyebrow. “That sounds so specific.”

“Believe me, when you have guy friends whose girlfriends hate you, you learn quickly that you’ll need to find someone that doesn’t have severe jealousy issues.”

“Your guy friends’ girlfriends hate you?”

“Something like that.”

Johnny scrunches his face in confusion. “Why?”

I shrug. “I suppose they see me as a threat. Not really sure why. It’s not like I want to date their boyfriends.”

At least, that’s been true until now. Though, it’s not like I’m going to do anything to actively steal him. None of this, “you should leave you girlfriend and be with me.”

“My girlfriend doesn’t want me to have girl friends,” Johnny says.  

“Oh.”

I wonder why. If I knew he acted like this around other girls, I guess I might understand.

“Does she not trust you around other girls or something?” I ask.

Ah ha. That was a loaded question.

“I guess so. She talked to all her friends and they said the same thing: boyfriends shouldn’t have any other girl friends besides their girlfriend.”

“That’s kinda…” —I grimace— “I don’t know how I feel about that. I feel about that. As long as you aren’t flirting with other girls, then I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to have other girl friends.”

“That’s what I said!” he exclaims.

Except, I’d argue that you are flirting with other girls, but that’s none of my business.

“Does she have other guy friends?”

“I don’t know. She says she doesn’t.”

I turn away briefly, hoping he doesn’t notice my look of skepticism. That sounds like a lie.

“Does she go here?”

“No, she’s going to a community college in Santa Clara. She’s trying to transfer to a CSU in SoCal.”

So that’s why we never see her around.

“How long have you been dating?”

“Almost two years.”

“So you met in high school?”

“Yeah, she went to a different high school, but my friend introduced me to her and we used to meet up to study a lot during the school year.”

“Oh that’s nice. Do you see her often?”

“Like every few weeks when I go home or during breaks,” he says. “Do you want to see a picture of her?”

“Sure.”

Johnny pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of the two of them at a park. She’s decently pretty—a six and a half at best—but nothing particularly special.  

My eyes narrow at him as puts his phone away and begins looking through his menu. Maybe he’s not trying to hit on me if he’s being so open about his girlfriend? But that doesn’t explain everything else that’s happened unless he’s just naturally flirty. I highly doubt that.

“I think I’m going to order bibimbap,” he says to me, putting the menu on the table.

I nod in acknowledgement. “I’m going to order the sundubu-jjigae. It’s cold out.”

“Do you want to do anything afterwards?”

His question catches me off guard. After learning more about his girlfriend and seeing how comfortable he is talking about her when prompted, I’m surprised he wants to continue hanging out. But perhaps this really just is a friendship.

“Was there something you wanted to do?” I reply. 

He shakes his head. “What’s your favorite place around here?”

“Um, there’s a bookstore I like that’s a few blocks from campus…”

“Great! Let’s go there afterwards!”

After finishing lunch, we make our way to the south side of campus, surprised to come across a small street fair on the same street as the bookstore. The booths are decorated with fairy lights, creating a very cozy and romantic atmosphere at twilight. We browse the novelty soaps, keychains, and various trinkets briefly before squeezing through two booths to get to the bookstore.

“What kind of books do you like to read?” Johnny asks, trailing behind me as I browse a recent release table.

“Mm, mostly young adult fiction leaning towards the adventure side. I like dystopian novels. You?”

“I like reading nonfiction. I don’t really like fiction.”

“That’s a shame.”

I grab a recent release and begin flipping through it.

“Oh what’s this?” Johnny asks from behind me.

As soon as I turn around, a brown dog puppet is two inches from my face. Johnny is smiling down at me and moving his hand inside the puppet to make the dog look like it’s talking.

“Hi Y/N, my name is Coffee Bean! Will you read me a story?”

My mouth is agape in amusement, part of me unsure how to respond. I chuckle nervously and put down the book in my hand, and quickly scan the table next to me for the closest children’s book.

“Um, do you like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, Coffee Bean?”

Coffee Bean nods his head enthusiastically. “Yes! Woof!”

I force a nervous smile, still uncertain as to how to respond to this other than to play along. I read a few pages of the book and look up at Johnny. “Do you really want me to keep reading?”

He laughs. “No, it’s okay.” He turns to Coffee Bean. “Did you like that Coffee Bean?”

“Yes!” Coffee Bean turns his head back towards me and presses his mouth against my cheek. “Thank you!”

I smile at him and begin walking towards another section of the store. That was weird. Cute, but weird. Sighing heavily, my mind flashes back to our discussion earlier about Johnny’s girlfriend. He clearly was very comfortable talking about her in front of me. Realistically, it probably would’ve been better for me to completely drop the idea of the two of us ever dating and stay away from Johnny because I didn’t want to get in the way. I’d certainly never want my boyfriend to do something like this.

Y/N, you are going to get hurt if you continue to hang out with this guy. This never ends well when you get involved with a guy who’s already in a relationship. He’s obviously not going to leave his girlfriend. And even if he did because he wanted to date you, wouldn’t it be a bad idea? He could do the same thing to you.

Johnny suddenly appears next to me. “So, it’s six o’clock. What do you want to do? You want to watch a movie?”

I blink several times, surprised yet again by Johnny’s continuing desire to hang out today. Most of everyone at the house has left, so I suppose it only makes sense. If we went back to the house and parted ways, there wouldn’t be anything for us to do on our own. I’d probably just sit in my room and watch a movie by myself.

“Sure… I guess. What do you want to watch?”

“Didn’t you mention that you recently watched some movie… Sally something?”

My forehead creases. “You mean, When Harry Met Sally?”

“Yeah! Let’s watch that!”

What? He wants to watch a rom-com?

Okay, movie and that’s it. You shouldn’t hang around him anymore and after today, you won’t even need to see him.

“Okay then. We can watch in the piano room,” I say. “I don’t have an HDMI cable to hook up to the TV, but the couches are comfy.”

He hums in thought. “Can we just watch in your room? It’ll be more comfortable.”

Um, there must be something about a guy wanting to hang out alone with you in your room to watch a movie, right?

“Like, we sit on the bed?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

I bite the inside of my lip. “Okay.”

“Okay! I’ll bring snacks!”

“This is my blanket now!” Johnny grabs my fleece blanket and stuffed dog off my bed and begins hugging it. “This is mine now too.”

He jumps up onto my bed and crawls into the corner, wrapping himself in the blanket and hiding the plush underneath. He cracks into a wide grin and I can’t help but begin to pout a bit, feeling rather protective over my stuffed toys.

“So what do I get?”

“I brought pistachios and cookies,” he says, gesturing over to the snacks he placed on my desk. “You can have those.”

I glance at the packages and then turn back to face Johnny, dissatisfied with the consolation prize. I pout again. “But I’m not hungry. I’m cold.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pretending to ponder as he holds a playful smile on his face. “Okay, I guess I can share with you.”

I scoff in amusement. “Share? That’s mine!”

A cheeky grin makes its way onto his face. “You said you were cold. It’s easier to stay warm if the blanket is already warmed up!”

I roll my eyes and bite back a smile as I go to set up the movie on my laptop. Slowly, I make my way onto my bed and Johnny trades me my laptop for my blanket. I make no comment as I wasn’t keen on sharing my blanket in the first place anyway.

Before leaning against the back wall, I turn to look at him. “Do I get my dog back too?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “No, I think he likes me better.”

“Okay, fine,” I say, letting out a huff and crossing my arms as I move to sit up against the wall.

Our arms are touching, which is to be expected since we’re attempting to share a twin-sized bed. I’m a bit distracted, not really focusing on the movie, but rather on the predicament I see myself in. Clearly, Johnny has no problem with taking my personal belongings or sharing a bed with me. Originally, I thought we would sit up against the wall length-wise, giving both of us plenty of space not to make any physical contact with each other. But instead, Johnny had other plans and also wanted to use my pillows. So here I am, watching a rom-com with a guy that I happen to like and find very charming, is very kind and playful, but I am very uncertain as to where I stand.

After a while, Johnny hands my dog back to me and I pretend to be unfazed by the famous fake orgasm scene in the movie. What an awkward thing to watch with a guy I barely know.

When the movie ends, I shut my laptop and hop off my bed to put it back on my desk. Johnny crawls over to the other end of the bed, lies on his side and hangs his legs off the foot of my bed. I seat myself back against the wall and pull out my phone.

“So now what?” I ask.

“Um, you said that you’re good at giving advice, right?” Johnny responds.

I lift my head up from my phone and turn to look at him. “Uh, I mean, my friends ask me for advice a lot. So maybe?”

It’s quiet for a moment as Johnny contemplates whether to ask me for advice and how to formulate his question. My thumb scrolls through Instagram, though my mind is somewhere else as I wonder about what Johnny could want advice on. Life? Career? School?

“I’m not really sure what to do about my girlfriend,” he finally says.

That’s not… that’s not what I want to talk to you about.

“What do you mean?” I ask, keeping my gaze on my phone. 

“I’m… not really happy with her.”

I swallow nervously. “Why not?”

“You know how I told you earlier that she doesn’t like me having girl friends?”

Can’t imagine why.

“Yeah?”

“It’s stuff like that. She gets upset with me and it’s hard to talk to her. She doesn’t really apply herself in school and doesn’t have a lot of ambition.”

I keep my facial expression neutral, but I’m already not impressed with this girl.

“Just out of curiosity, what do you parents think of her?”

He shrugs. “My dad doesn’t care and my mom keeps asking me when I’m going to get a doctor or lawyer girlfriend.”

“Sounds like your mom doesn’t really like her.”

“Well, my mom likes her, but…”

“She wants you to find someone she thinks is better,” I say, finishing his sentence.

“Yeah,” he admits sheepishly.

Yeah, so basically she doesn’t like your girlfriend.

“What’s her name?”

“Minji,” he responds. “We’ve already broken up twice.”

God, he sounds like Siwoo.

“Why?”

“Because she didn’t like my friend Hyoyeon.”

“Who’s she?”

“She’s my friend from high school,” he says. “She’s two years younger and we were friends in band.”

“Did you like her or something?”

“What? No!” he says emphatically. “She’s like my little sister, but we hung out a lot together.”

I take in the information to create a coherent story. “So… Minji was jealous because you spent a lot of time with Hyoyeon and Minji got angry or something… and you guys broke up because of that, right?”

“Yep.”

“Why did you get back together?”

“The first time was a year ago and I missed her so I thought we could make it work. Then a couple months later, we got into a fight and I broke up with her again, but then I thought I made a mistake so we got back together,” he says. “So what do you think I should do?”

I sit there, staring at my bed spread, trying to figure out how to respond. There is a conflict of interest. I am obviously interested in Johnny and would definitely like for him to be single so that I can date him, but I also do not want to tell him that he should break up with his girlfriend because I’m afraid that I can’t be totally objective in this situation. Personally, if this had been Siwoo, I would’ve told him to break up with her. Perhaps Siwoo is not the best example, but that’s what we have to work with. Johnny’s not happy with Minji and he’s obviously flirting with another girl he likes more. What’s the point of prolonging it?

What’s with me in having guys with girlfriends being attracted to me?  

Either they’re unhappy or unsatisfied or I just have a lot more power than I thought. The other explanation is that they’re just assholes.  

Wow, Y/N, now you just attract assholes? That must say something about your personality.

Attempting to be as objective as possible, I decide to say the most neutral, yet important, thing I can.

“People don’t change, Johnny.”

He tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“If you’re upset with the jealousy and the lack of ambition or whatever, that’s not going to change,” I say. “People only change if something drastic happens that causes them to be different.”

“So… are you saying I should break up with her?”

My eyes widen. “No, no,” I say quickly. “I did not say that. I’m just telling you that people don’t change. So it’s up to you whether or not you think it’s something you can handle.”

He’s quiet for a bit and then turns to look at me. “Do you really believe that?”

“Believe what?”

“That people don’t change.”

I nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“But I’m different now from a few years ago. I know a lot of people I grew up with who are different now.”

“Fundamentally, people don’t change. Yeah, you might pick up some new habits here and there, but generally, it’s hard to change unless you know there’s something you need to change,” I say. “And acknowledgement is only the beginning. You have to want to change too. If you don’t, then it doesn’t make a difference.”

“So, you don’t think Minji is going to change at all?”

I’m hesitant to make any comments specifically concerning Minji. So I give another open-ended answer. “If she thinks something needs to be changed and wants to, then maybe.”

In thinking about it, Siwoo is the perfect example here. No matter how many failed relationships he gets into, he never changes his behavior. Get together with one girl, cheat on her or treat her horribly, break up, feel bad for about two seconds, rinse, repeat. Somehow, it never fazes him.

I often wonder if there’s one girl out there that would break his heart enough that it would cause him to change. Even a little bit.

“I’m going to break up with her,” Johnny says after some time.

I look at him and say nothing.

“Yeah, I think it’s time to break up with her,” he says again.

“It’s your decision.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I know. I’m supposed to see her on Monday, so I’ll do it then.”

I remain silent and keep my facial expression neutral. If Johnny actually follows through with it, I’d be happy. But I don’t want to be the reason he breaks up with her. That’s not my place.

“Thanks,” he says and smiles. “You are pretty good at giving advice.”

“Oh, yeah,” I remark. “Sure.”

I put my phone down and lie back onto my pillow at the head of the bed. Crossing my arms across my chest, I close my eyes as a sudden drowsiness overcomes me. I hear some shifting at the end of the bed.

“Are you tired?” Johnny asks.

“Mm, a little,” I mumble.

A blanket is gently draped over me and I hum a quiet “thank you.” Everything is still and peaceful, but I can tell that Johnny is watching me.

And then he asks me a question.

“What if I told you I like you?”

My eyes shoot open in shock and Johnny is smiling down at me, a hopeful look etched into his features. I stare at him for a moment and knit my eyebrows together, having been rendered speechless by his confession.

My lack of response causes a bit of a panic in his eyes and he asks another question.

“Is that good or bad?”

Trying to remain calm, I close my eyes as if his question hadn’t just shocked me.

“It’s okay…” I respond.

Though my eyes are closed, a small part of me is laughing inside, half-aware that my unenthusiastic and non-idealistic response is not how he anticipated this to play out.  

“So…” The unsteadiness in his voice is detectable. “What about you?”

“I do,” I answer simply.

“You do what?”

“I do like you.”

I open my eyes again and there’s a shy smile on his face.

“I think you’re really cute and I enjoy spending time with you and I want to keep spending time with you,” he continues.

He climbs up towards the front of the bed and lies with his back against the wall. I feel an arm reach around my waist.

“You—you can’t do that,” I say.

Johnny slowly removes his hand. “Why not?”

“You’re still with someone else.”

My voice is unsteady and I don’t trust it. But quite frankly, I’m not sure I trust my own judgment either.

I shut my eyes again, unable to fight the fatigue. A few moments pass before Johnny speaks again.

“Can I stay here?”

Y/N, you know that he shouldn’t.

“Yes.”

He pushes himself up off the bed and climbs over me. His feet land on the floor with a thump and he flips off the light switch. He quickly climbs back onto my bed and places himself where he was before. I’m on the edge of the bed and there’s about a foot of space in between the two of us. I hear him shuffling around and suddenly there’s a hand lightly resting on the exposed skin of my waist.

“No, you can’t do that,” I say more forcefully. “You’re still with someone.”

He quickly removes his hand this time and then says, “I think I’ll leave you alone then.”

He climbs off the bed again and I remain still until I hear the door open and close. Then I’m alone.

I slowly sit up. There’s a thin stream of moonlight peering in through the missing blind. Looking around the room, there’s enough light to see that Johnny had left his bag of pistachio nuts and the package of cookies on my desk. Biting my lip, I decide to go brush my teeth and wash my face, but when I look at my reflection in the mirror, I feel scared.

What are you doing?

What are you supposed to do with this confession?

Hell, you confessed yourself.

There’s a part of me that feels excited that a boy of interest has returned my affections, but suddenly I’m finding that I don’t know how to process it. I’ve had plenty of confessions before, but this is different and I don’t know why.

Prev | Next

Before I Met You Masterlist

Masterlist

[emmerrr]

oh! what about an au where ronan and adam have been pining for each other for a long time and talked for the first time at a halloween costume party

YEAH OK I CAN DO THAT!!

-

Adam stood alone at the food table, eyeing up the pumpkin shaped cookies and bowls full of candy corn, and wondering if he could just shove a bunch into his pockets and then leave.

It was all Henry’s fault he was here, and yet within five minutes of arriving, Henry had ditched him. At a frat party. With no one else here he knew.

“You have to come,” Henry had said. “I’m inviting you. And you have to dress up. It’ll be fun, I promise.”

He’d needled away until Adam had eventually agreed, and now here he was, dressed as a very low maintenance and last minute cowboy using clothes he already had in his closet and a hat borrowed from his roommate, and Henry was nowhere to be found.

“Ugh,” said someone from his right, “candy corn.”

Adam didn’t understand the apparent universal hatred of candy corn. He loved it. He half turned to the newcomer, just annoyed enough to engage. “What’s wrong with candy corn?”

Too late, he realised who it was and he froze, eyes widening. But he’d spoken now, and Ronan, the boy he’d been pining over from a distance since the start of the semester looked up.

Adam only knew his name because during the first week of classes he had come into the coffee shop across campus where Adam worked, and that’s what he’d said to write on his to-go cup. Of course it was possible the drink was for someone else or that it wasn’t his real name, but Adam hoped it was, because it’s what he’d been calling this hot stranger in his head ever since. It suited him.

It was the only time Ronan had ever actually been in, at least while Adam was working, although he’d seen him walk past a few times. But he’d caught glimpses of him pretty often, all over campus. They didn’t share a single class, and Adam had never seen him with anyone else to even know if they had any mutual friends. Adam didn’t know what he was so taken by him for; he’d never spoken to him, not to mention he always looked just a little bit angry and unapproachable. But there was something intensely fascinating about him. Adam could never quite look away.

And now he was here, at this particular party and looking just as unhappy to be here as Adam was.

Ronan seemed to recognise Adam, too. Something sparked in his eyes, just for a second, but then he scowled and turned away. “What’s fucking right about candy corn is a better question.”

Adam might have been able to come up with a decent counterpoint, had it not been for what Ronan was wearing. Gone was all the black, pretty much the only colour Adam had ever seen him in, and in its place was an aquamarine polo-shirt and beige chinos. Instead of boots, there were boat shoes. All other thoughts fell out of Adam’s head. “Who the hell are you supposed to be?”

Ronan frowned. “I’m Gansey. Isn’t it obvious?”

Adam knew Gansey, sort of. They shared a few classes and only really ever said hi to each other, but Ronan’s outfit made sense as a costume now. More surprising was that he was good enough friends with Gansey to dress up as him for Halloween.

“I thought I recognised that polo-shirt.”

Ronan grinned at this and Adam hoped against hope he wasn’t blushing. “Right?”

“The tattoo kinda ruins the illusion though,” Adam said, nodding at Ronan’s neck, where the top of a tattoo he was absolutely dying to see in its entirety was just poking out.

“Thank fuck for that,” Ronan said. “Anyway, you’re not allowed to make fun of my costume seeing as you’re…what, a lumberjack cowboy?”

“Just a regular cowboy,” Adam said with a sigh. “I knew the flannel shirt was a mistake.”

Ronan smirked. “You only find out about this party today or something? This kinda looks like a last minute deal. I’m guessing this is all stuff you already own.”

“I mean, I borrowed the hat from my roommate but yeah, pretty much.”

Ronan gave Adam a lengthy once-over and then laughed. “You don’t even have cowboy boots.”

“Shut up,” Adam said, but he was laughing too. “You just raided your friend’s wardrobe. You expended no more effort than I did here.”

“Okay, true, but at least mine’s funny.”

“Only to people who know Gansey.”

“This is Gansey’s fucking frat!” Ronan pointed out.

Adam narrowed his eyes; he had to concede the point. “Alright, fair enough, you win.”

Ronan’s laughter subsided. “What’s your name anyway?”

“Adam,” Adam said. “Parrish.”

“Ronan Lynch,” Ronan replied. “C’mon, help me track down a beer. There’s gotta be one somewhere in this shithole.”

Adam followed him. How could he not? “Don’t suppose you’ve tried…oh, I don’t know, the fridge?” 

“Oh good, he’s a smartass,” Ronan said, shooting a smirk over his shoulder at Adam.

Well, shit, Adam thought.

Ronan led them through to the kitchen and pulled two beers out of the fridge, passing one back to Adam.

This task now over, Adam thought Ronan might disappear too, but instead he poked his head out the side door, then motioned to Adam. “It’s quieter out here.”

It was a little cold outside, but Adam’s shirt was long-sleeved at least. Ronan didn’t seem bothered by it at all as he leaned against the wall.

“So,” he said, taking a sip of beer, “no offence, but this doesn’t exactly seem like your crowd.”

“That doesn’t offend me,” Adam replied. “Although, I could say the same to you.”

Ronan shrugged. “Yeah, it’s not. But Gansey’s my best friend and he’s been on at me to come to one of these bullshit things all semester, so here I am.”

“So where is he?” Adam asked.

“That’s a good fucking question, Parrish,” Ronan said with a sharp laugh. It should have annoyed Adam that Ronan had called him by his last name, but for some reason it didn’t. “He’s probably striking out with this girl he’s been after for a while.” Ronan laughed again. “He accidentally implied she was a prostitute when they first met so it’s been a bit of an uphill journey.”

“How do you accidentally imply someone’s a prostitute?”

“I dunno, man, but Gansey fucking managed it.” Ronan shook his head, fond. “Anyway, who’re you here with?”

“My friend, Henry Cheng, d’you know him?”

“Don’t think so.”

“He’s around here somewhere, dressed as Tom Cruise in Risky Business.”

Ronan nodded. “Oh yeah, I think I saw him just before I saw you, he was holding court at the karaoke machine. I mean, unless there’s more than one Risky Business costume at this party.”

“Honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Adam was glad they’d come outside. He could hear better a bit away from the loud music and the noise of everyone else, and he liked that Ronan had clearly specifically brought him out here so he could talk to him. Conversation was flowing easier than Adam tended to find talking to strangers, and he was incredibly glad that his admittedly irrational crush on Ronan wasn’t being ruined by his personality.

It made him feel a little bit brave.

He leaned against the wall next to Ronan, letting their arms touch. Ronan didn’t move away. “I have a confession to make.”

“Oh yeah?” Ronan said. “What’s that.”

“I sort of knew who you were already. Before tonight, I mean.” He glanced up out of the corner of his eye, but Ronan was looking straight ahead. “I just…I’ve seen you around. And you came into the coffee shop once, and I served you. So I knew your name already.”

Ronan’s mouth curved up in a brief smile. “You remember that, huh?”

Relief flooded through Adam. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

“I never forget a face,” Ronan said solemnly, then he glanced at Adam and grinned again. “Well, not a face like yours anyway.”

Adam rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide the smile. “So how come you never came in again?”

“I almost did a few times. But I dunno, I didn’t wanna be creepy? I didn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of the cute barista? Take your pick.”

“All this time we could have been living our very own coffee-shop AU,” Adam said with false wistfulness.

Ronan snorted. “How would it be an AU if it’s our literal fucking lives?”

“Shut up, just let me have this.”

Ronan elbowed him lightly in the side. “You’re a dork. I like that.”

“Yeah?” Adam asked, and Ronan nodded. “Well I like that you were too shy to come back into the coffee shop.”

“Hey, I never said shy,”

“Whatever,” Adam said smugly. “You were shy.”

“Alright, fine. But don’t tell anyone.” He turned so he was facing Adam. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m sure it’s a very terrifying reputation,” Adam tried to snark back, but he wasn’t sure how well it came off. Ronan was so close now, and he thought his heart was beating out of his chest.

“It is,” Ronan whispered, and his eyes flickered to Adam’s lips, and he leaned closer and both their eyes drifted shut…

…and Adam put his hand gently on Ronan’s chest to stop him.

Ronan’s eyes flew open. “Sorry,” he mumbled, and stepped back. “I thought—”

“No,” Adam said quickly. “You thought right. It’s just…”

Ronan tilted his head to the side, all concern. “What?”

Adam sighed. “I can’t kiss you while you’re wearing that fucking polo-shirt.”

Any thought that he might have offended Ronan disappeared when Ronan burst out laughing. “If you wanted me out of my shirt, all you had to do was ask, Parrish.”

That was exactly what Adam wanted, but perhaps now wasn’t the best time.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Absolutely fucking nothing, why?”

“Do you maybe want to do something? Food, or a drink, or anything. Just…as ourselves, and not as Gansey and a lumberjack cowboy.”

Ronan smiled, the softest one Adam had seen so far. He suspected this one was rare.

“It’s a date.”

[detectivedreameater]

Caught With Your Hands In The Cookie Jar||Jane and Marley

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @jane-the-zombie and detectivedreameater SUMMARY: Marley goes to dispose of the last of the evidence keeping Erin in jail. Only problem is that Jane wanted to see the evidence, too.

The only thing that mattered now was making sure there was nothing the police could use against Erin. Marley had already cleared out the funeral home, with some effort, and now all she needed to do was get rid of whatever evidence had been brought in in the first place. It was a skeleton crew for the night, but it didn’t matter who was here, anyway-- Marley was invisible to anyone there. She hurried quickly to the back, to the evidence room, slipping inside easily, flitting around the boxes. The organization simple was easy, but before she turned herself visible again, she glanced up at the video camera in the corner. It would be troublesome if someone saw her on that, but she already had that covered. Turning invisible had its perks, after all, and once the camera panned to the right, it would give her enough room to grab what she needed before turning invisible again. She waited, poised-- and as soon as it did, she turned herself visible and tangible again and dug into the box labeled as the new evidence. A journal, and the incriminating photographs, as well as the anonymous letter. Marley stuffed it all quickly into her jacket, turned to leave-- and found herself staring straight at Jane. Shit.

The journal, while written in code, had given Jane useful information not only on Nichols herself but on other potential problem locations. Or, well, what looked like problem locations. Jane was honestly exhausted. The human organ trafficker coupled with the werewolf organ trafficking, and trying to dance around the new Fed in town to cover up the Special Agent turned demon Squid’s murder was taking it’s toll on her. Daniel had sent her a text message - asking to ‘talk’ again. He felt bad after their argument. So did Jane, but she didn’t want to speak to him right now or possibly ever again Right now, she was ready to put in more overtime to pull things from Nichols’ journal, and just maybe, she would head up to the deserted roads in the Outskirts and speed up and down them on her bike as the sun rose. Mmm, sounded good to her. Except then she caught Marley stealing evidence. Clearly stealing evidence. Jane stopped and stared at Marley, her mouth opening. Her brain went static for just a second, and she realized that she was supposed to be upset. Jane folded her arms over her chest, eyeing her. “Is this where you tell me this isn’t what it looks like?” Jane asked warily. “What the Hell, Marley?”

It would’ve been so easy for Marley to simply disappear in that moment. Or even just turn intangible and walk straight through Jane and not even give her the chance to chase after her or ask her questions. But that wouldn’t be fair to Jane. After everything Marley had asked of her, doing that felt like a betrayal. Something she couldn’t do. And now, it was a decision between two people who had somehow grown important to Marley-- Jane or Erin. But..maybe it didn’t have to be. Wasn’t this why she’d pulled Jane into her world? Their world? Surely she would understand. Marley at least had to try. “You don’t understand,” was what she said, hating how bad it sounded, how accusatory, “this whole thing was staged. Erin isn’t the bad guy here. She’s being framed.” Although framed wasn’t quite the word, considering they were setting her up for crimes she had committed. It was just that things ran deeper than that. One evil defeating another, how did you explain that?

You don’t understand. How many times had criminals told her that before she slapped cuffs on their wrists as they cried frame job? Jane knew there were too many to count. But Jane also knew that things weren’t as they seemed, they never were. Not anymore. A scar wasn’t just a scar, and things beyond anything she could imagine existed. Jane hesitated, glancing up at the camera she knew was in the corner. Marley would have a plan for that, no doubt. Jane tiredly looked at Marley. “Alright,” Jane says. “Help me understand, then?” She glanced over her shoulder then, just to make sure no one was around to surprise them. “We should move.”

Marley could see the weariness on Jane’s face, in her eyes, and she felt another pang of guilt. A lot of that had been happening lately and she hated it. She’d never even thought herself capable of guilt until recently. Following her gaze, Marley nodded. “Meet me in the breakroom,” she said, before turning invisible again and slipping through the door without opening it. She couldn’t leave any evidence behind that she was ever there, including fingerprints. It was late enough tonight that the station was a skeleton crew and the breakroom was empty when Marley rematerialized. She waited in the corner for Jane. “Shut the door,” she said when Jane came in. “You can’t tell anyone about this. Fuck, just...telling you puts you in danger, too. But you have to trust me, okay?” She gave her a stern look. “Do you trust me?”

And there she went, turning invisible. Jane hesitated, if only because for a moment she was worried Marley would just bolt. Shaking her head, she headed out of the evidence lock up herself, striding confidently to the break room as if nothing was wrong. If anyone could remain cool as a cucumber under pressure, it was her. Tiredly, she raised a hand in greeting to Marley before shutting the door completely. “I assumed that this wasn’t something to let Sarge in on,” Jane replied, a frown on her face. With a slight sigh, Jane walked over and started to make a cup of coffee, before starting to hunt for food. This was going to be a something and Jane wasn’t certain she wanted to hear any of it under an empty stomach. She paused as she grabbed one of those prepackaged muffins, meeting Marley’s stern look with her own. “I wouldn’t be here searching for the chocolate chip muffins I hid from Keen if I didn’t, Marley. You know that.” 

Marley wondered if Jane was going to hate her after this, but the more important part of the thought was that Marley was worried Jane was going to hate her after this. Jane was digging around for food and making coffee and Marley felt a zip of annoyance before pushing it down. “Erin was set up,” she said simply, even though there was much more to it than that. “By someone much worse than anything else we’ve seen. It’s more complicated than just one bad person, Jane. But she’s the only one that can help take this guy down, and her being in jail is just going to make things worse.” She wasn’t sure her explanation made sense yet, or if she would be able to share the whole thing before Jane decided to turn her in, too. “This guy we’re going after-- he’s big and bad and responsible for a lot of the death in this town.” 

“Set up as in she’s not selling organs on the black market or set up as in the person she’s working for screwed her over?” Jane asked, though she supposed it didn’t make much of a difference. Finding the muffin she was looking for, she leaned against the counter considering. It wasn’t all that different than things she’d dealt with back in Portland. “Yes yes, using the little fish to nab the bigger fish, I am familiar with the concept.” She remembered all too well. Jane pressed her lips together. Partners were supposed to trust each other and have each other’s back, she certainly was doing a bang up job. Got one shot, and now… Well, Jane supposed there was a choice to be made. She pulled a piece off her muffin and ate it contemplating. There were channels they were supposed to go through for something like this, immunity or otherwise deals made with the District Attorney's Office in exchange for talking (which Erin had absolutely refused to do, not that Jane could blame her), it certainly didn’t include tampering and destroying evidence. … Unless it did, she reminded herself. Jane eyed Marley carefully just as the coffee maker dinged. “This big fish isn’t normal, I’m assuming.” 

“Boss screwed her over. She’s trying to get out of the business and when he found out, well--” Marley shrugged, gesturing between the two of them. She watched Jane’s face close for a moment, wishing she could read her as easily as she could everyone else. There was clearly something else on her mind, something bothering her, but Marley didn’t have the capacity to pry in on it right now. There was a short pang of guilt at the thought-- they were partners, after all. Marley was supposed to be invested in Jane’s well-being. They had a synergy that Marley hadn’t felt with someone else in a long time, and here she was, stealing evidence behind her back and working through a case without her. “Not even close. We don’t know what he is yet, but he’s something powerful and dangerous. Even to people like me.” And there wasn’t much that could touch a mara if they didn’t know enough. “You know I’d do this right if I could, but there’s too much of our world involved in this. I’m not going to be responsible for normal officers getting caught up in this. And Erin--” she paused, stopped, bit her lip, “Erin’s my friend. Of the two, she’s the lesser evil. And she doesn’t deserve to go to jail for a mistake her dad made.”

Well, Marley wasn’t the only one with a criminal friend. Jane grimaced as her mind wandered again to Felix. Something she would never, ever admit to him was that she couldn’t picture actually ever arresting him or getting real charges to stick to the slippery, shadowy bastard. All those times she dragged his sorry ass to the precinct in Portland, the tackling, the dress burning, the everything… The whole thing was a game. A game of cat, mouse, and handcuffs. She would be a hypocrite if she were to judge Marley for who she had as friends. And Jane trusted Marley, and if Erin was truly the lesser evil here in this supernatural world… Daniel had been right, there was something wrong with this town. People like whoever the hell Roy Chambers was, black market organ dealers, exploding mimes...  “Alright,” Jane conceded, pulling another piece off her muffin. “Do what you need to do. I’ll run interference with Sarge - I doubt he’ll be pleased.” He had been so… Hurt by Erin’s actions, it was hard to watch. “... You’re dealing with the fall back from Kavanagh, though,” Jane warned. 

The moments while Jane contemplated Marley’s words felt like they dragged on forever. Since when had Marley cared about someone liking her? Or having hurt someone’s trust? She could feel it creeping into her bones, up her fingers, into her arms. There was a buzzing building inside of her as she looked at Jane and wondered if this was going to be the end. She had to believe that Jane would trust her, but she couldn’t see any reason for why she would or should. But the answer came, and Marley let out a long breath. “Thank you,” she said, letting her shoulders droop. She didn’t quite move yet, but she shifted in her spot, leaned back against the desk, “yeah, that-- that’s fair. I can deal with Kavanagh. And Sarge will be--” be what? God, if he knew what they were doing, he’d fire them in an instant. He could never understand. But after what had happened at that house, Marley could never put him in that position again. She looked at Jane evenly. “He’ll get over it. Once this is all over, though, I owe you big time, okay?” 

Just like that it was over. The deal was sorted out, they had plans of action… Jane couldn’t stop thinking about what was in that journal though. She supposed her notes would have to be destroyed, the locations of warehouses and other illicit activity… Anything that could connect back to Nichols and keep her detained. She finished off her muffin and went to pour herself a cup of coffee. “I hope you're right about Sarge,” Jane said, finally glancing at Marley. “The only thing you owe me is to just tell me the next time something like this happens. Don’t wait to tell me until I catch you, red handed, in the evidence room.”

[purplesurveys]

833

Given the chance, would you ever go into space? I’ve answered this exact question on a recent survey...but yeah absolutely, as long as it was a free opportunity. Outer space has always interested me so it would be awesome to actually get there. What is your all-time favorite thing to snack on? A local brand of chips called Nova, corndogs, powdered fries, and pizza. I couldn’t choose just one :( Have you ever been jealous of anyone's socks? Not in a toxic way but I have seen socks that made me go “damn, I wish I had that” and it’s usually socks based off of famous paintings like Starry Night, The Scream, etc. Do you match your clothing, or are you careless about fashion? The most I’ll match is colors; I’ll make sure the colors I wear complement each other. But I’m not likely to buy outfits that come in parts, like a matching top and skirt that have their own price tags. It’s an annoying scam that makes you have to pay more money for one outfit lol. Know anyone that has amazing fashion taste? There’s a professor in the communication research department of our college that dresses SOOOO well. She’s never recycled an item of clothing either. She dresses literally exactly like Audrey Hepburn, except with more printed clothes.

Do you know or wish you could knit? I don’t know how to knit and have no desire to learn.

Like earmuffs? They’re alright, I guess? I never have to wear them, so I don’t have much of an opinion. Have you ever had the roof of your mouth sore? Yeah, that one time I ate takoyaki while it was still burning hot and I burned off the skin on the roof my mouth. Do you like orange juice? I’ll drink it if it’s served or if it’s free, but I never crave for it. How many times a day do you brush your teeth, honestly? Once or twice. Do you think anyone really looks good in a jumpsuit? Yeah. Well it’s since become a trend so that’s really all there is to know about people’s preferences nowadays. I have several jumpsuits that I feel really good in. Have a collection of anything? Not anymore. Ever ran out of something that made you very upset? Sometimes my family will bring home leftovers from a really good restaurant. When we finish them all up it bums me out. Biggest lie you ever told? Saying ‘yes’ with a big ol’ smile on my face to my high school guidance counselors whenever they ask if my situation at home is good. Is there a song that makes you want to rock out? For sure. I have my fair share of favorite punk/rock bands. Do you have a religion? No. Believe that there is a point to churches? Not a single one. How do eat Oreos? I just bite into them. Never really got into the whole twist-lick-dunk thing because 1) I don’t want to bite into something I had already licked (even if it’s my own saliva lol), and 2) I can’t consume a lot of milk, anyway. -This or That- Sunsets or sunrises? Sunsets. I’ve seen more sunsets than sunrises with Gabie, so I have good memories of them. I don’t like the idea of getting up early just for a sunrise either. Pennies or dimes? Can’t relate because we don’t use these concepts. Coffee or tea? Coffeeeeeeee. Never been a tea person, actually. Windows or Mac? Mac. I did use Windows for a while, but when it comes down to it I would rather get a Mac. Headphones or speakers? Headphones. You get more of the sound when you listen to music, so the listening experience is a lot better. Loud or soft & quiet? Depends on the context...I like my concerts loud, but I obviously prefer soft and quiet when I’m doing something like going to bed. Odd or even numbers? I don’t really have a preference lol. The cookie dough or the actual cookies? Cookie dough, heh. Speaking of, I recently found a recipe for edible cookie dough but I keep putting it off... Mp3 players or iPod? iPod, mostly because MP3s went out of style like, a decade ago. Calm or rock music? Again, depends on my mood. I’d listen to rock music if I’m pissed off or going through a similar emotion, and I’d prefer hearing calm music when I wanna focus on something, like if I’m doing surveys. Love or lust? Love. I don’t feel lust for the most part. Converse or Vans? Converse. They’re AJ’s favorite and I find them more comfy. The few times I borrowed my sister’s Vans I always got blisters at the end of the day. Lipsyncing or actual singing? I would prefer to lipsync than to let people hear my actual singing voice; but if I’m watching a performance obviously I’d want the performers to be using their real voice. Walking or running? Walking. I find strolls to be relaxing. Dancing or watching others dance? Watching others. Dancers are crazy talented. With friends or by yourself? When it comes down to it, I wanna be with friends. Local concert or a popular band? Popular band. It’s rarer, so I find it more precious. I still support local though! Blond or brown hair? Brown. Idk, I just don’t know a lot of people who are blonde. Red or black? I like both, but I like black slightly more. Blue or green eyes? Green. Having fun or being asleep? Having fuuuun. Carnival or park? Park. I can’t go on rides anyway, so a nice stroll and picnic at the park sounds lovely to me. -Favorites- Favorite thing to buy? Uh food, I guess? I’m super easy to please lol. What do your favorite pair of socks look like? My bacon and eggs one. Kind of tea/coffee? Iced tea/iced caramel macchiato. Way of communication? Face-to-face with Gab, instant messenger/text for everyone else. Time to sleep in to? Midnight is most convenient for me. Band to dance to? PARAMORE. Also helps that their music has turned dance-y too. Favorite gum? Don’t really have one. I’ll chew on any kind/flavor of gum. Type of cereal? Cookie Crisps. Color of hoodie? I don’t mind color, as long as the hoodie is comfortable and keeps me warm. Spice? Cumin smells lovely. Favorite thing to touch/feel? Dogs. Website? Probably Twitter. I’ve been on it the longest and still have no reason to be tired of it. Person in your life? My girlfriend...but also my dogs, if they can count. -Would you Rather- Hire one of your friends, or fire an enemy? Hire one of my friends, as long as they work well without me. Firing an enemy seems a little bit more unprofessional, especially if they objectively perform well. Be a contestant on American Idol or America's Got Talent? I’d go with AGT I guess? I’ve watched some snippets of the show and their judges seem more nice, whereas on American Idol the judges tend to laugh or embarrass you if you do badly. Live in Britain or Australia? Australia. I feel like it’s a more Filipino-friendly country, not that Britain isn’t but yeah. Travel by plane or helicopter? Plane. Aren’t helicopters loud? I think I’d be more relaxed in an airplane. Trade places with a male or a female for a day? I’d rather remain a woman, thanks. Shop at Wal-Mart or Target? I don’t know. I’m honestly curious though – for the Americans survey-takers, what’s the difference between them and what do y’all prefer? Hahaha Read Shakespeare or Artistotle's work? I internally winced at both lol but when it comes down to it, Shakespeare. I do like his work, as long as I’m reading a modern English version. I hate philosophy straight up, so that’s a definite no on Aristotle. Have a regular donut or donut holes? Regular donut. Spell better or smell better? Smell. I can already spell well. Rather be in a tornado or a large earthquake? This is horrible, no one ever *wants* to be stuck in a natural calamity. 80's or 90's music? I like the 80s sound better. Eat a plain peanut butter sandwich or PB & J? Peanut butter sandwich. I tried PB&J before to see what the hype was about, and it just didn’t work for my Asian tastebuds. Wear a uniform every day or go half-naked? Wear a uniform. I wore one in Catholic school for 14 years and survived, so it’d just be the same thing. Would you rather Santa or the Easter Bunny actually exist? Santa. I’m more familiar with him. The Easter Bunny’s not really a part of our culture so I don’t actually know what it’s supposed to do. Apple pie or Pizza pie? Pizzaaaaa. Y’all should know me by now haha. Spend an afternoon cleaning or clean things later? I’d rather work early so I can be satisfied earlier. Flying or X-Ray vision? Flying. Dentist or Doctor? I guess dentist? There’s fewer reasons to be scared when you go to the dentist because the health problems are just limited to your mouth, I guess. Would you rather spread gossip or start a fight? Both sound awful. I’m never one to start a fight and I never initiate gossip myself, though I do take part in it sometimes. Get rid of your favorite shoes or your favorite pants? Pants. I love my shoes. Visit Florida or New York? New York. Myspace or Facebook (or do they both suck)? Facebook. It sucks, but at least the memes there are hilarious as fuck.

[1kook]

crisis averted

❀: Chanyeol x (F) Reader

summary → The doorbell rings not even ten minutes later, and you buzz him up without even checking the little screen to see if it’s actually Chanyeol. But who else would show up at your door past midnight? → friends to lovers, sexual content (smut) → 5.2k 

this isn't proofread lmao mobile users: there is a read more inserted but it doesn't work unless the post is reblogged so I'm sorry if you have to scroll through all this! :(

for reference x! 

Chanyeol was in the middle of what was probably his third mid-life crisis when you’d first met him, his hair a pastel array of colors that seemed to reflect the tumultuous state of his emotions. You’d been alarmed at his appearance, never before seeing someone as mismatched as he’d been, his very obviously buff figure hidden beneath a multitude of loose clothing, his boyish facial features thrown for a loop whenever he spoke in that deep tone of his. He was constantly changing, balancing between the happiest person in the universe, and the biggest crybaby ever. But his emotional state wasn’t due to some traumatic event that had occurred to him, like the death of a loved one, or a break-up more severe than any drama writer could ever imagine, but it was simply because he wasn’t sure whether or not he turned the stove off that morning. 

In short, Chanyeol was an enigma, a perplexing being whose preferred choice of action always contained the most complex solution, even when the simplest answer was available.  

Perhaps thats why it’d been so easy to befriend him during college, with the way he fluttered from group to group, seemingly finding something to relate to within everyone he ever met. Chanyeol had become the planner of your group outings, mostly the instigator of all those weird three a.m. adventures, and though your friend circle seemed large, he’d always found a time to sneak in a little conversation between the two of you. Of course, he’d done that for everyone and his never-ending kindness was what had made him such a lovable character among you all, one of those guys that you remembered way after college as the life of the party, and, in most cases, the one that ended up a deadbeat crackhead. 

Yet Chanyeol was different in the sense that he had high hopes for his future, dreams that eclipsed any possibility of him becoming a failure. He was dead set on his career as an architect, putting aside his pride to even attend tutoring for that mathematics class he was falling behind in. His determination to succeed in life was so strong, that it was no surprise he did end up in the career he wanted, and had even advanced through different promotions all within your first year out of college.

The way he’d slithered his way into your life after graduation was also confusing.

Though you’d still kept in touch with the majority of your college friends, he seemed to be the one that stuck out the most, his presence nearly inevitable in your daily life. It wasn’t anything too major, not like his clothes were in your house, but just tiny things, like how he’d somehow managed to sneak his copy of Tokyo Drift into your movie collection, or the annoying habit of his to line up all your shoes every time he visited. It was those little gestures that seemed to stand out the most in your apartment, and eventually, you weren’t the only one that noticed. 

“Did Chanyeol come over?” Jongdae called from the kitchen, where he was supposed to be grabbing the two of you a bottle of water. You hummed in response, your attention primarily focused on the paperwork before you. Your current occupation was as an elementary school teacher, and though you loved working with kids, their handwriting was absolutely atrocious, and the only other person willing to strain their eyes for two hours straight happened to be your best friend. 

“Yeah, he dropped by yesterday,” you responded, handing a sheet over to Jongdae as he dutifully returned to his spot on the floor by the coffee table. In exchange, he handed you the water bottle, and you barely cracked the lid open when he dove into his interrogation. 

“He loves bothering you, doesn’t he?” He teased, and you could only offer a half-hearted shrug, gulping down the water instead. Jongdae nudged your side, and you slowly lowered the bottle, raising your brows at him as if he was saying something useless. He was, but he’d smack you over the head with a throw pillow if you said as much. 

“Don’t you think he comes over a little too much for someone who’s just a friend?” He sighed, and you blinked. 

The thought had occurred to you multiple times. Chanyeol’s visits were often, probably at least once a week, more frequent than Jongdae’s, and he was supposed to be your best friend. You didn’t mind them though, as his presence seemed to calm you in a way no one else’s did. But you could see why Jongdae had his suspicions, and from an outsiders perspective, it did seem like Chanyeol was a nuisance to you, and the fact most of the stories you shared about him included Chanyeol being a bit overbearing didn’t seem to help. 

But you knew Chanyeol in a way Jongdae didn't, despite you all being college pals, and you knew he wouldn’t understand that Chanyeol wasn’t bothering you for the mere fact he wanted someone to annoy, but because he cared about you, and valued your friendship enough to check up on you. There was also the fat he brightened your day when he’d pop in, even if his stay was only for a few minutes with the sole intention of grabbing a water in the middle of his jog. He was naturally friendly and nurturing, and the sight of him sprawled across your sofa as you reheated leftovers, waiting to hear about your week, was so ingrained in your mind already. 

You weren’t exactly sure when Chanyeol had morphed from ‘that one guy’ in your group to someone you found yourself relying on, even when nothing was wrong. Since your first introduction, he’d had two other midlife crises, the first one making him impulsively dye his hair a flaming red color, but he was your friend so you were mandated to be there for him whenever another minor inconveniences occurred in his admittedly fast-paced life.

Chanyeol’s hair had been that fiery color when your dirtbag boyfriend had dumped you two weeks before graduation. You remember the way you’d bumped into him as you climbed off the bus in front of your campus, and how he’d dropped his grocery bag in an attempt to comfort you. You’d barely known each other then, and the sickening crack his carton of eggs had made as he pulled you into a soft side hug had sent you into a spiraling panic. 

But Chanyeol hadn’t minded, he even walked you across the campus until you reached your dorm building. It was the first instance you’d found yourself leaning for him, any sort of reservations you’d had before flying out the window as he saw you to your dorm, and even went as far as waiting for you to wash your face and crawl into bed, before shutting the lights off and promptly leaving. 

“He’s my close friend,” you drawl when you realize you’d left Jongdae hanging for too long. He eyes you as if he wants to ask more, but you beat him to it. “You’re the one who said I should be nicer to him,” you point out, and revel in the defeated sigh he gives in response. 

Jongdae stays a while longer, but once the sun begins setting, he leaves. He’s been working weird shifts at work lately, so you don’t beg him to help you any longer, and even wrap up some of the homemade gelatin you’d made yesterday for him to take on his way out. 

You’re left alone in your thoughts for the rest of the night, until Chanyeol texts you around midnight, and you contemplate ignoring it as you open your retainer case, face freshly washed and hair pulled away from your face. You’re beyond tired, and tomorrow’s Saturday, so you can sleep in for as long as you want; you want nothing more than to collapse right now.

But your curiosity gets the best of you and you find yourself setting aside your retainers in favor of reaching for your phone, swiping a finger across the screen until your messages open up and your faced with a challenge. 

chanyeol [12:13 pm] we have a problem.

You can feel your last peaceful exhale leave you like the ocean’s pulling tide in the early morning hours, Chanyeol’s text burning itself into the back of your eyelids as you let them flutter shut. You can’t stop the palm you raise to your face, your pointer finger massaging your temples as you begin considering how to go about this. You could easily ignore the message and tell him in the morning that you’d already been asleep then. He was familiar with your sleeping habits enough to believe such a lie. But there’s also the possibility that Chanyeol really is in trouble this time, and not going through another minor inconvenience that even a toddler could easily get around. 

___ [12:15 pm] what is your problem?

He responds right away. 

chanyeol [12:15 pm] our* problem 

chanyeol [12:16 pm] i’m coming over.

You nearly slam your head against your vanity. Leave it to Chanyeol to deprive you of your sleep. After the week you’ve had, you have to talk yourself out of strangling him the second he shows up. It’d only taken him five minutes to ruin your night so it’s only fair. 

Pushing your irritation aside, you go about your apartment, picking up the stray socks here and there, and even doing a light sweep of the place. You weren’t kidding about your week, so it was natural your place had taken a little extra hit from your growing stress in the form of scattered cookie crumbs and misplaced shoes. 

The doorbell rings not even ten minutes later, and you buzz him up without even checking the little screen to see if it’s actually Chanyeol. But who else would show up at your door past midnight? As you walk past the front door, broom in hand, you unlock the door before continuing down the hall to return the broom to its rightful place in the spare closet. 

Chanyeol bursts in without knocking, a habit of his that had terrified the living daylights out of you when he'd first began visiting you. You don’t think much of it now, and don’t even flinch at his clambering as he tugs off his shoes, trailing your way back to the front door to greet him. 

“Hey,” you say and all is calm for exactly a quarter of a second, before Chanyeol’s entire face goes up in flames. You’re immediately startled, and don't waste time ushering him inside as he struggles out a greeting that is only half comprehensible, his flustered state worrying you the longer he stutters about. “Jesus, Yeol, what happened to you?”

Chanyeol’s looking every bit the abducted civilian as he sits awkwardly perched on your couch, his brown eyes hidden behind the thin glass layer of his spectacles. Suddenly, you notice the soft hues of his hair, peeking out beneath the brim of his hat. Without much warning, you snatch the accessory off his head, greeted by the sight of his wavy hair colored a pastel shade, similar to the it’d been when you first met. 

“I-I can explain!” he exclaims, snatching the hat back out of your grasp to stuff over his hair. He’s visibly a mess, and you can already tell he’s going through another one of his crises just by the way his gaze flickers between you and the potted plant behind you. 

“Oh, dude,” you breathe, trying to chance another peek at his hair, which he dutifully avoids by clamping a palm over the top of his hat, holding it down firmly. “You’re going through some shit, aren’t you?” You plop down beside him, criss-crossing your legs as you turn to face his tense figure. 

“You have no idea,” he whines, before slumping into the couch, long arms spreading over the entirety of the back. His hair makes him appear way tanner than he normally is, the soft pinks and purples curling around his ears where the hat doesn’t exactly cover. 

You know you should feel sympathetic, but you can’t help the snort that escapes your lips as you stare at Chanyeol. He’d been so put together last week as he’d rambled on and on about some new project at work, and how awesome Sehun’s birthday party had been. He’d just finished moving into a new apartment too, one that allowed him to finally reclaim his dog from his family home and live with him. From an outsider’s perspective, Chanyeol couldn’t possibly have anything to complain about, especially with the life he lead now. 

Carefully, you tug the black hat off his head, and when he doesn’t protest, you begin running your fingers through his newly dyed hair. You’re surprised he hasn’t begun balding, especially with the rate he changes up his hair; it’s unusually silky for someone who pours way too many chemicals into it. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You hum, and his eyes flutter shut beneath your touch. He sighs, and you can already tell he’s going to dive into the venting of a lifetime right now. Hopefully, you can derail his stress enough that he doesn’t impulsively dye his hair another color tomorrow. By the way he’s slowly dissolving into a puddle beneath your fingers, it’s possible.

“They wanna build a villa,” Chanyeol murmurs, head tilting just the slightest in your direction. “A fucking villa,” he repeats, and an unamused huff leaves his throat. “Can you believe that, ___? He contracts me for a bachelor pad, and after we’ve finally hammered out all the stupid little details he spent months crying about, his fiancée says she wants a fucking villa.” He groans, and you run your nails against his scalp, until his agitated grunt melts into a soft whine. 

You nod along, even though his eyes are shut, but you know he can feel your sympathy as you toy with his hair. “But it gets worse!” He shifts, so his head is pressed into the couch cushions and turned your way, his body slowly becoming one with the cotton beneath him. “Apparently, Toben can’t be in the complex backyard until I get him spayed, which, I could’ve sworn he was, but apparently he wasn’t!” 

“You should take him to Minseok’s clinic,” you suggest, voice quiet compared to his loud tone as he continues on complaining over you. You don’t mind, and just listen for a few more minutes as he tells you everything wrong with his life, including how he’d gone to dye his hair a dark red, only to hastily decide on the pastel mess it was now, without considering the fact his work dress code only called for moderately natural hair colors. Now he’d have to go again before Monday to dye it black or brown (’or something! I don’t know!’) again. 

You’ve long since abandoned combing through his locks, and instead chose to pick at a stray thread on one of your throw pillows, listening intently to everything he said. He rarely had moments like these, where every single thing seemed to get on nerves, but you yourself had plenty. And he was always there for you, so it was only just that you did the same for him. 

By the time Chanyeol’s irritation is reaching its end, he’s basically cursing everything, even things that don’t have any correlation to his current distress. “And also, I haven’t vacuumed the living room carpet in weeks, the bathroom soap is about to run out, and I haven’t gotten laid in three fucking months now,” he whines, eyes screwing shut as his lips push out into a pout. 

He seems settled after that, his ragged breath slowly turning into a soft sigh, until he’s completely cooled down from his blow up. “You should vacuum while Toben’s at the vet,” you say afterwards, brushing a stray hair behind your ear as you lean into the couch, one hand propped on your elbow. 

Unconsciously, your fingers stretch out to toy with his hair again, but this time, his eyes flutter open. “And there’s definitely an unopened hand wash under the sink,” you add as you recall the tangerine scented bottle you’d seen last week when you’d all gone over for game night at Chanyeol’s place. 

He sighs, leaning into your touch. He looks ridiculously soft in this state, and with his hair array of pinks and purples, the occasional baby blue peeking out, he looked almost heavenly. “You can’t have such an easy solution for everything,” he huffs, an though his comment is sarcastic, his tone is lighthearted. You give a noncommittal hum at his words, and his brown eyes slowly find yours. The glint in his eyes is different then, nothing like the jittery mess that had walked through your door. “What about getting laid?” He teases, the corner of his lip curling upwards. 

You roll your eyes. “Just go to a club, or something,” you reply offhandedly, before turning away from him to stretch your cramping legs out. Chanyeol shifts, and when you sit back again, he’s sat up now. 

“What if I don’t wanna go to a club?” He pushes, running his fingers through his hair until it’s pushed away from his forehead. 

You shrug. “Then go to a brothel.”

Chanyeol huffs out a cackle, which you ignore in favor of watching the way his lips pull tight around his smile, and his Adams apple bops as he throws his head back. When he’s done, he turns his gaze back to you, and for the first time, Jongdae’s words ring in your mind again. 

You shoo them away quickly though. “You have too many problems, Yeol,” you point out, and he chuckles again, though this time it’s more muted and less as amused. 

“Yeah,” he muses, eyes trailing over your face in a way he’s never really done before. He’s eyeing you again, which you try to ignore, but when your gazes meet, suddenly you feel taken away at the intensity of his stare. It’s as if you’re suddenly realizing your situation. Alone with a man on a Friday night, both of you gazing at each other too deeply for people who are just friends. The sudden realization startles you into looking away first, eyes landing on the papers scattered across your coffee table. 

A hand presses to your thigh, bare due to the length of your shorts. “My biggest problem,” Chanyeol murmurs, and your eyes instinctively snap back to him. He grins, his chest rising as he takes in another heavy breath. “Is you.”

“Huh?” You question, and for the first time, you feel nervous in front of Chanyeol. You feel unsure of the way he’s gazing at you, at the way his fingers press into your thigh, and the way he looks like he belongs there, nestled inside your apartment as if he’s always been there.  Perhaps he does, you think, as your eyes slowly trace down his face until you catch yourself staring at his mouth, his lips turned upwards in an arrogant smirk you rarely see on Chanyeol. 

He leans forward then, and your body betrays you, letting him press against you until he has you between his warm body and the armrest of the furniture. “You’re my biggest problem, ___,” he sighs, his mouth suddenly pressed against your neck, and you can’t help the tiny gasp that fights its way out of your throat. 

“I-I don’t understand,” you breathe, though your hands curl their way around Chanyeol’s shoulders, and can feel the twitch of his muscles as his hand trails up your side. “Chanyeol,” you gasp, when he suddenly presses a kiss beneath your ear, and your faithless body arches up into him. 

“God, ___” he says against the skin of your neck, and you jump when you feel his hand pull against the back of your thigh, slowly encouraging your legs aside until he’s cradled between your legs. “I come over here all the time, take you out to eat whenever you want, and I even buy you makeup shit that I don’t even know anything about,” he huffs, and nips at the vein in your neck. Your breath stutters and you find yourself melting under his touch, similar to the way he had been earlier when you’d brushed your fingers through his hair. 

“I’ve been trying to win you over for the longest time, love,” he murmurs, his mouth on your neck getting bolder with every word he says. He pulls away only for a moment, brown eyes meeting yours as he quietly says, “you stress me the fuck out.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your throat, and the blindingly bright smile Chanyeol sends your way is enough to make your heart tap dance in your chest. “Yeol, you’re the worst!” You huff, rolling your head back until it’s over the curve of the armrest. He seems weirdly complacent as he watches you war with yourself, all your past theories suddenly bubbling to the surface. 

Jongdae was one hundred percent correct in his weird assumptions of Chanyeol, and though a deep part of you always knew he was way too touchy for someone who was just a friend, you hadn’t believed someone as marvelous as Chanyeol could be interested in you.

He doesn’t let you drown in your past self doubts for long before he’s resuming kissing along your neck, his lips slowly inching their way up. “Do you know how annoying it is having to watch you whine about how no one likes you every weekend,” he murmurs against your jaw, where he’s making quick work of reaching your lips. 

“Shut up,” you whine, arms twining around his back to finally pull him closer. “Just kiss me before I kick you out.”

Chanyeol complies, pressing his pink lips to yours in what is your first kiss with him. He’s a disgustingly good kisser, and for a moment you kick yourself for letting him wander off with random women at parties, women who’d gotten to see another side of him, when you could’ve been seeing him in this light, hearing the sounds he makes as he pushes against your core. “You’re so pretty, baby,” he chuckles when he pulls away, cheeks adorably flushed and lips sinfully red and plump. God, do you really hate your own obliviousness. 

Though he pecks your lips once more, he soon begins working his way in the direction he’d come from, lips pressing to your neck at all the right spots, leaving you a panting mess beneath him. The shirt you’re wearing only works in Chanyeol’s favor, and he crumples the over-sized material in one fist, pulling it away to expose one side of your neck. 

“Ch-Chanyeol,” you pant when he shifts against you, and something brushes against your core. Your hands dig into the back of his own shirt, fisting the material under your tight grasp. 

He hums, his hands finally releasing you to push up your shirt instead, long fingers tickling up your skin the further he goes. You’d tugged on a lacy bralette when he’d first announced his visit, too lazy to tug on a real bra but not bold enough to let the girls swing in his presence. Apparently, none of that mattered now as Chanyeol’s fingers traced along the soft lace of the only article keeping his hands from your hardening nipples. 

He pushes your shirt back, and leans away just the slightest to stare at the cute lace that hugged your skin. “Wow,” he breathes, flashing you another one of those dopey smiles. There’s a bow sewed into the center of the garment, a dainty little thing that sits in the valley between your breasts, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. “You’re like a present.”

You pinch his bicep, though he probably doesn’t feel it through all that muscle because all Chanyeol does is laugh, obnoxiously loud for someone currently making out. But it’s endearing in a way you never thought sex would be, his hands stroking up your side as he gazes at you intimately. “Hurry up,” you tell him, deciding the best way to get him back on track is with more skin. So you tug the shirt over your head, and make quick work of disposing his own. 

“Relax, baby,” he says once you’ve managed to wrangle him out of his long sleeve shirt. There’s a new tattoo on his clavicle, a date that you hadn’t seen before, and when you point it out questioningly, Chanyeol’s only response is, “I love my mom.” 

“Of course you do,” you murmur, before pulling him by the neck to kiss you again. He does so without complaint, and repositions himself above you until he’s somewhat on his knees, somewhat lying down, his skin on yours scorching. 

Chanyeol’s hand is already under the soft material of your bra, fingers toying with your hardened nipple, when he decides he needs to kiss you again, surging forward to sloppily press his mouth against yours. His tongue is all too skilled as he licks into the hot inside of your mouth, and you know he has that stupidly dopey grin on from the way you occasionally feel his teeth press against your lips. “Stop it,” you quietly whine, fingers knotted in the pastel tresses of his hair. 

“I can’t help it, baby,” he replies, and you have a hard time swallowing the moan that builds in the back of your throat when he finally frees both your nipples from their clothed cage, only to capture them between his fingers. “You look so cute right now.”

Before you can point out his cheesiness, he’s manhandling you around the couch, until you’re seated in his lap. The dark shorts he’d shown up in have shifted from all the movement, until they’re clinging dangerously low on the dip of his waist, all taut muscles on display before you. He taps your arms, urging you to raise your arms, before he’s pulling the bralette over your head, and you’re left in the same state of dress as him, a feat he doesn’t let last long. 

Chanyeol helps you shimmy out of the cotton shorts you’d been wearing, and when you’re finally seated on his lap in only a lacy little underwear you’d bought at a Victoria’s Secret sale, he takes you in. His hands are as wild as he is, tracing over your shoulders and down your spine, a ticklish feeling that makes you unconsciously arch into him, pressing your breasts a little too close to his face. Chanyeol doesn’t mind, and had you not sat back down onto his lap, he’d have leaned forward to lick at your nipples. 

When he’s satisfied with the mapping out he’s done of your body, he lets his fingers trail between your legs, running one lone finger over the little dip where your folds meet. Your body twitches, and you bite down the moan building in your throat. “C’mon, ___,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your neck as his fingers continue their ministrations. “Tell me what you want.” He presses one finger against your clit, and you gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure. 

“Y-You,” you stammer, already feeling the last traces of control leaving your body as you submit to him, body completely malleable under his touch. “I want you, Yeol,” you whimper, and you reach your hands out towards him in a last ditch effort to stabilize yourself. One hand digs into the taut muscles of his shoulder, while the other tangles itself in that bright head of his, your fingers buried between strands of pink and purple. 

“Really?” Chanyeol grins, and before you can respond, he’s pushed aside your underwear and has one finger gently prodding at your slick pussy. His finger now halfway submerged inside of you, he presses a kiss against your neck, where a thin sheen of sweat has accumulated. His finger twists inside of you, and you're vaguely aware that he’s knuckles deep, as he adds in that low voice of his, “you like my fingers, baby?”

You nod, your lip bruising between your teeth. He’s only got one finger inside of you, yet you’re already a withering mess in front of him, thighs quivering with every curl of his digit, your whole body jolting when he brushes his thumb against your clit. 

Chanyeol continues on fingering you, basking in the sounds you make, and the way you cry his name when he brushes against the sweet spot inside of you. You’re sweaty and gross, but the way he glances up at you like you’re an ancient goddess makes your heart thud faster until you can hear the blood rushing in your ears. 

He slips another finger in to properly scissor you, and you nearly weep from the sensations coursing through your body. “Faster,” you beg, voice hoarse from all the incoherent babbling you’ve been doing, but Chanyeol complies, twisting his wrist hard and fast, until you’re pushing down into his fingers, desperate for more. 

“Look at you,” he says, lips sucking at your collarbone. At this point, you’re contributing equally as much as Chanyeol to your impending orgasm, rutting against his hand like an animal in heat. He doesn’t seem to mind as he kisses along your damp skin, sucking marks against places you know will be hard to cover up, but in the moment you don’t seem to mind. “You’re making such a mess,” Chanyeol sighs, and when you glance down, his hand is glistening with your own pleasure. 

Your orgasm is slowly creeping up on you, and your body feels ridiculously weak, your mind in an even more frazzled state from all that’s happened so far. You fall forward, burying your face against Chanyeol’s neck as his hands get faster and your hips get slower. 

“Yeol,” you pant, and his hips unconsciously thrust up into your core, drawing a long moan from you. The sound only seems to work him further, and you’re suddenly aware he’s been holding himself back in favor of pleasuring you first. “It’s so good,” you tell him, lips flush against his skin, you tongue languidly licking at the spot just beneath his ear. 

His makes a sound to let you know he’s listening, fingers curling inside of you as you continue whimpering against his chest. “Please, Yeol,” you whine, suddenly grinding your hips forward until his hand is trapped between the two of you and his covered cock is rubbing against your folds. “You make me feel s-so good.”

It doesn’t take much longer for you to finally release, the combined sensations of his thumb rubbing against your clit and his rock-hard outline against your lower lips enough to turn you into a whimpering mess before him, his name rolling off your tongue like honey, until your hips stutter against his, and you briefly fall into a placid state between his arms. 

When you come to again, the feeling of his raging cock beneath you is enough to make your legs tremble again, but Chanyeol doesn’t let it go any further just yet. 

“You were so good for me, baby,” he murmurs as he presses soft kisses along your shoulder, before grabbing your chin between his fingers to press his lips to yours. His mouth is still as hot as it was before, and you melt into his touch, running both hands through his light hair and tugging until he’s moaning against your lips, his hips slowly stirring beneath you. 

You pull away with a loud pop, quickly pressing your lips against the corner of his jaw, and sucking a light bruise onto the hot skin. “Well,” he sighs, voice airy, “that solves one problem.” 

You bite down hard, yet Chanyeol still laughs. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

Study Buddies (Sternclay)

I got several requests for this prompt as a meet ugly for Sternclay: you caught me doing something a few weeks ago but didn’t report me and now you’re trying to blackmail me into secretly tutoring you even though you and your friends have always been assholes, no I don’t ‘owe’ you.” Fill is SFW

“I saw that.”

Stern freezes, hand still on the now-shut back door, “saw me putting out the garbage?”

“Nope” his coworker Barclay rumbles, “saw you taking the leftover pastries and giving them to the homeless guys who hang out in that plaza.”

“A few of them were from that batch you baked three hours ago, they were barely old, going to waste was ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you know Haye’s rule about that.”

“Yes, and I think it’s ridiculous too.” He crosses his arms, staring up at Barclay and daring him to tell him it isn’t.

“I agree. But you still got caught.”

“By you, not by him, now move so I can start wiping down the tables.”

“What, uh, makes you think I’ll keep my mouth shut?”

Stern turns, startled, “are you trying to fucking blackmail me?”

“No, uh, I mean-” Barclay’s gaze darts to the front of the coffee shop, where his friends make several encouraging motions.

“Of course” he groans, “Christ, Barclay, I didn’t think you’d stoop this low.”

“Look” the larger man takes a step, bringing him into Stern’s space, “I have a massive midterm paper due in a few weeks, and I need help. Big time.”

From this distance Stern can smell laundry detergent and burnt sugar, see a pleading tint in those deep brown eyes. He wants to punch him in his aggravating, handsome face.

“You owe me, Stern.”

“Like hell I do.”

“I’ve covered your ass more times than I can count when you’ve run late because of your internship.”

“And I’ve covered your ass all those times you were late because you were giving your friends rides.” He jabs his finger into Barclay’s chest and his hand is instantly enclosed in one of Barclay’s own

“I don’t want to tell Hayes anything, Stern, but I really, really don’t want to fail this fucking class.”

“Fine. I’ll help with your essay.”

“Not just mine, my friends need help too.”

“Oh no, no chance, deals’ off.” Stern pulls his hand away, “I can tolerate you, but they” he points to the group still sitting at the table, “have been nothing but awful and rude to me”

“They’re not-”

“They are too that bad, at least to me.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. It wouldn’t be those guys, it’d be some friends of mine from the LGBT center on campus.”

“Fine. But if one of those ones shows their face, I leave. Shake on it.”

Barclay talks his hand again, shakes it, and tells him to be at the LGBT center at 7 p.m tomorrow. 

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

Stern arrives at five til, finds Barclay sitting on a beanbag chair near a low table with four other people. One, a blonde girl in a green dress, pops up and walks over to him. 

“Hi, can I help you?”

“I’m here for him.” He points to Barclay.

“Oh! You’re the essay guy.”

“Yep, that’s me.” He smiles as politely as he can muster and joins her at the table. 

“Glad you came.” Barclay smiles at him.

“I didn’t have a choice.” He glares and the smile disappears.

“Everyone, this is Stern-”

“Joseph. Most people call me Joseph.”

“-and he’s gonna help with the midterm essay for our comp class.”

“Sweet!” The other girl at the table, black hair streaked with red, raises her hands triumphantly. 

“Do all five of you need help?” Stern looks around.

“Nope, just me, Duck” she points to a stocky guy in a Yosemite’ shirt, “and Barclay. Indrid and this cutie aren’t in that class.” She kisses the blonde’s cheek. That makes Indrid the guy with messily dyed silver hair and sketchbook, who’s currently laying with his head in Duck’s lap.

“Alright, that’s not too bad. Does someone have the assignment?”

Duck pulls it up on his laptop so Stern can read it. 

“Okay, so, it’s time to start outlining how you want to approach your topic.”

“Uhhhh.” Barclay looks at this friends, who shake their heads.

“None of you have a topic yet.”

“Nope.”

“When is this due?”

“Three weeks from yesterday.”

“And it’s worth how much?”

“45% of our final grade.”

Stern allows himself a few moments of vicarious stress, then gets to work. By the time the center closes, they all have topics selected, and Stern has instructions to come back on Monday.

He does just that, comes back Wednesday too. By Friday, he’s learned that he and Duck actually share a chem lecture and that Aubrey has many classes in the same building he does, as she always waves to him when they cross paths. On Friday night, he arrives to help them flesh out their outlines. 

“Colors?” Aubrey says as she braids pieces of twine while studying her notes for her midterm. 

“What?”

“Your pride colors; I’m making bracelets for everyone because it helps me focus.”

“Oh, um, trans pride ones. Please.”

“Good, already got those out.” She slides a pink, blue, and white bracelet across the table to Duck.

Barclay arrives with cookies, and they settle into their usual working rhythm, Stern bouncing between the three to see what they have and offering editorial advice. He’s sitting shoulder to shoulder with Barclay, enjoying the contact more than he cares to admit. 

“This is a little clunky here, I think I see your point but it’s getting lost.”

Barclay taps the table, then deletes and re-writes the section. 

“That’s way better.”

“What can I say, got a good teacher.” Barclay smiles at him, subdued yet charming, and Stern’s heart flips several times before he whacks it into submission. 

A week later, he turns up at the center to find the room rearranged and a larger group present. There’s a screen hung up on the far wall and Dani is tinkering with a laptop and projector. 

“I think I missed a memo.” He says to Duck as the other man is pouring two cups of soda. 

“Yeah, we decided to have a movie night and watch Dracula’s Daughter because Aubrey insists it’s a gay classic.”

“It’s quite good. I’ll, um, I’ll just head out then.”

“Y’know you can stay right? You ain’t just essay help, you’re our friend.” Duck gives him a look stuck between reassurance and concern.

“I guess I can, since I have tonight blocked off.” He goes in search of a seat and finds the only free spot is, of course, directly next to Barclay. 

Dani dims the lights and the move starts. There’s a rustle near his lap.

“Popcorn?” Barclay whispers. 

“Sure, thanks.”

As the movie plays on, their hands keep going for popcorn at the same instant and bumping each other. A few weeks ago this would have annoyed him to no end. Now he just wants to hold his hand. Barclay is different around these friends; gentler, funnier, his generosity given plentiful outlets. He’s been different at work too, less inclined to needle Stern and more interested in talking with him as they clean than in enabling his friends to stay late and make a mess. Stern’s noticed said friends do their fair share of shit-talking Barclay, the larger man seemingly so used to it he doesn’t react. But more and more Stern sees the flashes of exhaustion and hurt on his face. 

“You're not their servant, Barclay.”

“I know, I’m just being helpful.”

“That was half your cut of the tips they scammed off you.”

“It’s fine, Stern.”

“But”

“It’s fine.”

The group opts to watch Frankenstein meets the Wolfman next, and Barclay adjusts so his hand is flat on the ground on the other side of Stern. Stern leans to the side, resting against him, and lets himself pretend he could feel this safe and wanted all the time. 

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

“Stern, wait up!” Barclay catches up to him as he walks home. It’s Wednesday night, meaning everyone’s essays are finally finished. When Aubrey asked if Stern was going to keep hanging out with them, he said he’d have to see about his schedule, and ignored the fact she knew he was lying. 

“What was that line about your schedule? You could still make time to hang out with us.”

“I’ll come back when you all need help on your finals.”

“....do you seriously think that’s all we care about? All I care about? Stern, they really like you, and it seemed like you were getting along with everyone.”

“I was, and I do like them. But I can’t keep being around you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Barclay steps in front of him, barring his path. 

“It means that I like you too, but am well aware of how you really feel about me. You act kind, you talk to me like I actually matter, like we’re actually friends, but deep down I know you still think I’m uptight and nerdy and deserve to be mocked for it.”

“I don’t, I swear” Barclay puts his hands on Stern’s shoulders, voice earnest, “I like you a lot, I’m so fucking glad we started hanging out more, I, I really care about you.”

“Care about me? How the fuck am I supposed to believe that when you still won’t even call me by my name!” He hisses, not wanting to wake the nearby apartments. 

“I...I was just using it like a nickname. I didn’t know it bothered you. I’m, uh, I’m sorry.” He looks genuinely chagrined and the fire in Stern’s chest flickers out. He stares at the ground, not knowing what else to do.

“Joseph?”

He looks up in time to see Barclay bend forward, bringing their lips millimeters apart.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Do you” he exhales so intensely a nearby moth gets blown off course, “do you really want to?”

“Haven’t been able to think about anything else all night, babe. All week too.”

Stern closes the distance, Barclay’s hands gripping his arms when he does. The kiss is the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted and he lifts his hands up to Barclays cheeks, stroking them in a plea for more. 

Barclay obliges, slides his hands onto his back and pushes him forward, sighing soft and shaky when the kiss deepens. When it ends Stern stays put, rests his head on Barclay’s shoulder as he hugs him, shuddering with want.

“I gotcha babe, don’t worry.” Barclay pets his fingers through Sterns hair.

“Not worried your friends will see us?”

“Fuck ‘em. They were guys I knew in high school who knew how to manipulate me and I can do better. Like you, for starters. Plus Dani thinks their dicks too.”

“Knew there was a reason I liked her.”

“Now, if those friends saw us, we’d know because we’d hear Aubrey yelling ‘called it’ from a mile away.”

“Not that I’m opposed to sidewalk hugging, but it’s getting kind of cold.”

“C’mon” Barclay kisses his forehead, “let’s get you home.”

“Feel like joining me for some ‘coffee?’” Stern makes air quotes as Barclay takes his hand.

“Hell yeah I do. Can think of a lot of places I’d like to put cream.” 

“Not just yet, big guy, though I appreciate the enthusiasm.” Stern pauses his walking to kiss him, “tonight I think you and I have a make-out date on my couch.”

Another kiss, full of promise and the barest hint of heat, “sounds good to me, Joseph.”