#you can ignore this insecure weirdo. he holds no say over things

[tossball-stick]

everyones freaking out over the brothers thing, but they state that they arent actually related, and the term brother for men youre unrelated to has a long homoerotic history. especially during the victorian period, of which piltover is inspired by. you guys dont need canon reasons to ship things, you can ignore canon thats fine to do. regardless, here is another reason you all can ship the yaoi brothers guilt free: they arent actually brothers, therefor you can ship them.

like seriously guys please for the love of god stop acting like you arent allowed to think differently than the show creators and game writers. there is so much LoL lore that im rewriting for myself because it doesnt matter. you can do whatever you want forever, and also riot doesnt care about the games lore whatsoever. even if there are people working on it with love, riot is just forcing another fucking rewrite of all of it. so who cares

this isnt even to mention the fact that the show itself loves to compare and contrast familial and romantic love; the show loves paralleling vi and jinx (familial) to vander and silco (romantic; also!! they call each other brothers!!!! the show itself uses brother as a homoerotic term of endearment!!! you can too), as well as making vi's two choices be between family and romance, with jinx jealous of caitlynn 'replacing' her. again, we are seeing the emphasis of how familial and romantic love are intertwined with each other. like, ultimately this should be its own post, but im trying to make my point here:

jayvik is purposefully vague about its status om whether its romantic or familial love. you can interpret it however you like, thats no sin. what IS the sin is that riot games (allegedly) has a history of doing this with their characters. there are many more instances of LoL characters that are clearly intended to have gay vibes with others of the same gender, but they cant just outright confirm that. fucking. udyr and lee sin come to mind as blatant examples of this, they have extremely gay vibes and lore and dialogue (they even love to be nebulously fused like jayvik), but have no actual word on their relationship. they could genuinely just be really good bros, or they could be gay! its up to you.

in conclusion, if youre letting this stop you from shipping fictional characters: stop it! get some help! have some creativity of your own and make things up that may seem out of character. thats the point of fandom- have fun with it. if youre scared about something not being canon, i have something i regret to tell you: none of your interpretations of either of these characters is anything close to canon!! nobodys is!! theyre our interpretations, so do whats most fun!!

[pettygangfriend]

Earn me 2/2

Pairing: Rio x reader. Part one here

Requested by: @appropriate-writers-name sorry it took so long to post the second part, but as you can see it’s pretty long, lol. I hope this was somewhat like what you had in mind💞

Warnings: none, may find some curse words.

Word count: 1509 (Im so sorry, lmao.)

“Either way, my world doesn’t revolve around no man. Remember that.”

The last thing you said to Rio before parting. It was also the last time you had spoken to him, or even heard from him. If you were being honest with yourself, it really did sting. But after a week of sitting around, hoping for a text or a phone call, you decided it was time. It was time to try something new, or, someone new.

Which is exactly how you ended up in your position, right now. Sitting at a tiny table at a bar/restaurant thingy you’ve never been to, with a man you’ve never seen before.

“So what do you do for a living, anyway?” You ask the guy in front of you, trying to make some small talk.

He wasn’t really the smoothest talker- scratch that, he wasn’t much of a talker at all. But as you were only 15 minutes in, you’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I make and sell t-shirts.” He didn’t even bother to look at you, being too busy slurping away at his spaghetti.

“Oh thats nice!” You answer, trying to sound somewhat interested. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s not, but it pays the bills. Actually, it doesn’t really, but at least it kills some time”.

You just stare at him with the most confused look. What the fuck does that even mean?

You’re so busy being weirded out, and making a mental note of asking god what you did to deserve this, that you almost didn’t notice a familiar face entering the place, taking a seat at the bar. Rio. His eyes fall on the guy in front of you, looking him up and down, smirking.

A million different emotions and thoughts you had managed to push away, came flooding back, immediately. You do your best to ignore his presence, but his burning eyes on you making it hard to. So after a good 3 minutes of pretending to listen to the pasta eating weirdo in front of you, you decide to find out what the hell Rio’s doing here.

“Please excuse me for a second while I go use the bathroom” is all you say, before getting up from your seat, your eyes catching Rio’s curious ones.

Once you enter the bathroom, it doesn’t take long before he enters shortly after. He locks the door behind him, and turns around to face you. You just stand there, crossing your arms. You sure as hell wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying the first word. I guess that’s one thing you guys had in common. Pettiness.

“So first you’re giving me your little speech about needing more, and what not, and now you’re getting it on with some stranger?” He asks you, taking a step closer towards you. “Doesn’t really make sense, does it?”

Letting out a scoff, you bring yourself even closer to him. “When someone ghosts you for a week long, you it does make sense.”

“I had thing’s to do. I’m a busy guy, you know”

“Not busy enough, if you’re out here lurking around on my date”

Apparently you had said something funny, as Rio throws his head back laughing.

“Date? Come on, ma. You know you deserve better than-“ he points around him, the bathroom looking like a scene from a bad movie. “Better than this.”

“What I deserve is someone who’s willing to make an effort, even if it’s this” you copy his movements, pointing at your surroundings.

Alright, that was probably a lie, you did deserve more than this shithole. But you weren’t lying about someone making the effort to go out.

“And that someone is that guy? The one with the spaghetti stain on his shirt?” He says, sticking his hands inside his pockets.

“Well, I don’t see it being you, either. So why don’t you just leave this place, sure you got some more important things to do”

He holds your angry stare for a moment, nodding his head slowly.

“Grab your stuff, we’re leaving this dump” is all he says before wanting to turn around, but you’re quick to pull him back by his arm.

“What do you mean ‘we’re leaving’?!” You whisper yell at him, absolutely dumbfounded.

“What part don’t you get? You wanted someone to take you out, so I’m going to take you out.” He tells you, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

A part of you wants to grab your coat and bolt out of there with Rio, but the other part needed a little more convincing. You couldn’t just leave the other guy behind, right?

“Are you crazy? I can’t just leave him!”

"You really thought that was going somewhere?"

"Yes! He was cute.. in a way" making Rio raise an eyebrow. "Okay maybe not cute, but he was nice!"

“Well either you’re gonna tell him, or I will. Or both of us, that’s cool with me too” he says, already smirking at the look on your face. You hate giving in right now, but at this point you would do anything to get out of this ‘date’.

“Fine. Let’s go”.

After a -not very sincere- apology, you feel like you have moved from one awkward date in a dump, to another awkward one in a fancier place. Honestly, you couldn’t even call this a date. It was more like you shooting Rio angry glares, while he gave short answers to your hundreds of questions.

“So why did you take a whole week to decide on wanting to take me out?”

“Something came up, so I had to go take care of some business out of town.”

“What business?” “Nothing that concerns you”

“Why did you decide you wanted to go out with me, all of a sudden?” “I had time to think.”

“Think about what?” “You and me. Us.”

You let out a deep sigh, his short answers starting to make you wish you hadn’t come with him at all.

“You know what, maybe this was a bad idea. I should just go-” you say, starting to get up from the chair, but Rio takes a hold or your wrist, before moving his hand down to hold yours.

“Don’t.” You look at his face, only to find his usual cold stare, now replaced by a more insecure one. You sit back down, waiting for him to continue, as he’s still holding your hand.

“Look, I don’t really know how to do all this” he starts, referring to the whole ordeal of two people sitting together romantically. Something that was the most normal thing in your mind, yet not in his.

“I’m know how to boss people around, I know how to make money, stay on my game. It’s what I’m used to, it’s what im good at. I’m not used to a ‘normal relationship’, and all the things that come with it. It’s not something that fits into my kind of life”

“If it doesn’t fit into your kind of life, then what am I doing here?” You ask him, already preparing yourself for the disappointment.

Rio looks down at your intertwined hands for a second, giving it a soft squeeze, before pulling your hand more towards him.

“Because when you’re with me, I feel like I can be myself, you know? Like I can finally breath, after the crazy ass day I had. But when you’re not, I feel like there’s something missing, like I need-” Rio thinks for a second, trying to find the right word. And he did. “More.”

All you can do is stare at him, taking in all the words pouring out of his mouth. A warm feeling forms in your stomach, knowing that all this time, he felt the same way. He just didn’t know how to express himself.

“And after I realized that, I tried to figure out how to tell you. You were right about me taking too long, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want-“

“I do.” You’re quick to cut him off. “I’m just happy you came to me. And we don’t have to jump in the deep end, let’s just take it slow. That way, we can both get used to new things” you tell him, sending him a smile, which he happily returns.

“I’d like that, mama.”

The both of you let out a sigh of relieve, finally being able to make things right. This wasn’t going to be easy, but that didn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re on the same page, entering a whole new chapter.

After a nice dinner, where you guys had lots of time to talk about regual things for once, he had decided to take you home.

“So,” he says, making you look over at him. “Does this mean I have to meet your parents?”

You look at him, wondering if this man is actually being serious right now. So much for taking it slow.

“Oh baby, you ain’t ready for all that”

If you’d like to be added to my Rio taglist, please let me know! ✨

@appropriate-writers-name

@gemini0410

@sesamepancakes @vicmackeybullshxt

@chrmdnbeautiful

@thickemadame

@isisafrofairy

@stitchesbystults

[monkeydlesbian]

# KISS OF GHOSTS.

hanamaki takahiro x reader

wc: 1.2k

content warning: making out, hurt/comfort kinda? makki is insecure :(

a/n: i’m trying to get myself back into writing so i can finish my matchups, so i decided to write a little something for takahiro. he’s really easy for me to write i think. reblogs help hehe <3

“You’re not the best at hiding it, y’know,” Makki comments from beside you on the couch.

He stops copying down the notes for tomorrow’s lecture and sets his pen down onto the table in front of you. You can feel the shift of his long limbs turning to face you, and now the weight of his gaze.

You gulp, “what are you talking about?”

At your feigned oblivion, he laughs, snatching the pen out of your hand and chucking it across the room dramatically until it hits the wall.

“Makki!” You growl, turning to face him properly now, “I was using that!”

“Not anymore. Now, why the hell are you staring at me so much? It’s like you’re trying to set me on fire or something,” he jokes, but the realization that he’s figured you out is no joking matter.

You flounder a little, stuck at how you should approach this.

Or whether you should approach it at all.

“You—” you start, “you’re just—”

He raises a concerned eyebrow; you decide to look at everything in the room other than him.

“I’m just…?” He prompts, moving his hands in a rolling motion, as if to say ‘move it along.’

You take a deep breath, pondering the outcome of the situation if you decide to just blurt it out right then and there.

On one hand, it could go over smoothly. If the slightly flirtatious looks and quips he’d given you these past few weeks are anything to go by, then he’d likely receive your comment well.

On the other, he could think you’re a total weirdo and a creep and never want to speak to you again.

To hell with it.

“You’re pretty.” You blurt out, finally, with little to no ceremony. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your fists are clenched on top of your knees, and you’re flinching back like he’s going to hit you.

A pregnant pause, then he’s laughing.

Annoyed, your eyes jerk open to get a good look at his face before you fight the urge to punch it in, only to see a bright shade of pink sitting atop the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Through laughter, Makki speaks, “you—you think I’m pretty? That’s why you’ve been staring at me? I thought I pissed you off or something!”

“Stop laughing,” you half-grumble, half-whine as you throw your head back in embarrassment. “This is no laughing matter!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he throws his hands up in surrender once he finally stops, “you’re right, this is serious.”

“You... you’re not mad?” You ask tentatively.

Technically, no one should be mad about being told that they’re pretty, but you’ve let your apprehension get the best of you.

“Why would I be mad that you called me pretty?” The question is genuine. You can practically feel the insecurity injected into the words he chose to emphasize, and it breaks your heart a little.

“I—well—I don’t know... and why’d you ask it like that?”

“Like what?” He feigns ignorance, turning his body away slightly so he won’t have to meet your eyes. He picks at the fabric of his sweatpants. They’ve gotten a little small, and they’re riding up his ankles more than they did in the past. Well, he did get them in high school, so it’s probably time for a new pair anyways. He suddenly remembers the new store the two of you passed coming back a different route from the library one afternoon. Maybe he’ll stop by tomorrow and—

“Like you’re not pretty,” you explain honestly, “and like you think you’re not worthy of being called that.”

“You’re makin’ me sound like I’m Thor or something,” he jokes. Normally he’d laugh at himself, but he isn’t joking around for the goal of laughter this time.

“You’re pretty, Makki,” you say firmly, confidently, so sure of yourself that it makes Makki’s eyebrows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut. He doesn’t believe it, but it’s obvious you do.

“It’s just hard to believe that the prettiest person I’ve ever met just called me pretty.”

His tone is dripping in self-loathing, disguised as flattery towards you. You recognize this, yet you still can’t help the butterflies that erupt deep inside your core.

“Makki—“ you stutter, eyes widening when he jerks his gaze towards yours, “can—can I kiss you?”

It’s deafening silence for a couple seconds, and you can feel your heartbeat in your ears the longer it drags on. Makki’s eyes widen in surprise, before disbelief escapes him in the form of a breathless chuckle.

“Well—yeah. Yes. Please,” he breathes, scooting closer to you until his knee bumps against your own. He’s warm, you can already tell, and it’s then you’re reaching to cup his face in your hands.

Your eyes flutter closed when you feel a puff of his breath hit your lips, before you’re pressing your mouth to his own.

You thought your first kiss with Makki would’ve been fun, lighthearted, maybe even a little teasing. But as it turns out, it barely even feels like a kiss. Your lips are barely pressed against his, but you still feel your body grow warmer and subconsciously scooting even closer to his own.

The two of you break away from the kiss of ghosts, and your eyes flutter open to meet his own, the void of his pupils dwarfing the steel gray you’ve always been enamored with.

“Again?” He breathes against your lips, knocking his nose against yours, “can I—can I kiss you again?”

You don’t answer him verbally, instead opting to press your lips against his again, more firm this time. He sighs a contented little sound into your mouth, moving one hand to the back of your knee, bringing your leg over his own, and moving the other to cup the nape of your neck, tilting your head so he can press his lips against yours more intensely.

Your hands move from his cheeks down to his warm shoulders, covered by the crewneck you borrowed from him just last week. You tug a little, wanting him closer to you and his chest pressed up against yours.

Instead of yielding to you like you thought he would, like he usually always does, Makki just drags your thigh further atop his own, hoping you’ll get the memo to crawl into his lap.

And you do, thank God. You swing your other thigh around his hips without breaking away from the kiss. Further into his hold you slip, moving a hand to play with the thin strands on the back of his head. Those slim and shaky hands of his shift to your waist, feeling across your ribs and tummy covered by another thing of his that you’ve borrowed; the air conditioning unit in Makki’s apartment works exceptionally, and you forgot your own sweatshirt at home.

(‘Will you ever learn?’ Came his fond response to you shivering on his couch, getting up and grabbing the sweatshirt he left on the chair at the dinner table.)

His lips leave yours, and you let out a noise of disappointment as you try to chase them. They eventually move to the corner of your mouth, across your cheek, along your jaw, and eventually down the side of your neck.

These kisses aren’t intense like the very long one before, instead they’re soft. They’re the kisses of ghosts.

It’s then you figure you wouldn’t mind becoming one with him.

all rights reserved © sweetbakugou || do not translate, repost, or claim my works as your own.

[sgtbradfords]

I just had an idea and I don’t think anyone wrote about it yet 🙈

SE2E12 when Lucy takes down that guy at the speed dating place

Any chance you would write something on that?

Lucy shutting down, nayla and Harper not being able to help her and having to call Tim to come and help

This turned out really cute and I am kinda happy with how it turned out... I hope you enjoy anon! :)

Lucy Chen thought they would be going to a bar or a club for her first girl’s night out with Nyla Harper and Angela Lopez. But no, what the two officers had planned was so much worse.

Speed dating.

As soon as she read the white words on the hideous pink sign, her fight or flight response kicked in. She wanted to run but knowing her two friends, they would never allow that. She tried talking her way out of it, didn’t work. So, she took the only option left, being to rope them into their own scheme.

‘Trust your judgement.’ They said. ‘Control the environment.’

‘Bullshit.’ Lucy thought as she took a seat, a sip of liquid courage coursing through her veins.

The night had started off decent, easily picking out the creeps to be vague to and actively ignoring the weirdos who sent a shiver down her spine. Though, she was not much better, as she came off a little too forward with the men that sat down in the seat across from her.

The buzzer sounded, announcing the end of the night as she and the last prospect, Isaiah stood. He told her he had a good evening, to which she off-handedly agreed. She heard him before she could see him as he reached out, pulling at the loose thread on her sweater.

She reacted instantly, his hands were moving towards her and all she could think about was the last time a set of unwanted hands approached her.

Lucy had him on the floor with his hands secured behind his back in eight seconds flat, Nyla and Angela running over when Lucy laid him out.

“Hey.” Nyla told her placing a hand on her shoulder, bringing her out of her daze. “You’re ok. It’s alright.”

She could hear the shrieks of people being startled around her, Angela’s voice foggy as she spoke to the man she just laid out. Her breathing increased rapidly, adrenaline coursing through her veins as her heart pounded in her chest.

Lucy never heard the question that Nyla was asking as she pulled out of the hold the other woman had on her arm. Her body moved on it’s own accord, her feet carrying her quickly, returning her to the car she had vacated not even an hour earlier, pulling on the handle of the car, sitting down in the passenger seat before she hit the automatic lock button, locking the doors.

“Hey, Chen?” said Nyla as she knocked on the window.

Lucy took a shaky breath to steady herself, focusing on grounding her mind.

“Lucy?” Angela asked as she pulled on the handle of the locked door, hitting the button of her car, unlocking it.

Lucy’s right hand hovered over the switch panel, pressing the button to lock the doors back.

Angela hit it again, only for the occupant of the vehicle to lock it back.

“Seriously. What do we do?” she asked looking over the top of the vehicle.

Nyla pulled out her phone, her thumb scrolling on the screen before pressing the glass, moving the phone to her ear. “Hey. You busy? Yes, I know you’re off duty. We’ve kinda got a situation. I mean kinda like you’ll find out when you get here. We’re in the pay by the hour parking lot on 42nd street. You can’t miss us.” She said before ending the call, placing the phone back into the back pocket of her jeans. “Well, this has been an experience.”

“He on his way?”

Nyla nodded, leaning back on the car. “Relax, she’s not going to budge.”

Angela glanced into the car, standing between the car and the one next to it, keeping an eye on the woman sitting in the passenger seat.

“You meet anyone interesting?”

Nyla snorted, telling Angela about the guy who got up and ran from the table holding a hand to his mouth, and the one she thoroughly grossed out, telling her the stories she had told them.

“What about you?” Angela had just asked when a familiar truck pulled in off the road.

Tim Bradford pulled his truck into the parking lot, stopping at the automated machine to pay for parking, grabbing his ticket before pulling up behind the car he knew all too well. He put the vehicle in park, pressing the button to roll down the passenger side window. “I’m not going to be your DD Harper.”

Nyla walked over to the truck, resting her arms on the sill of the window. “We may have done something stupid.”

“Define stupid.”

Angela walked over, joining Nyla as she looked at the driver guiltily. “I may have pushed Lucy too hard.”

Tim’s face dropped, concern quickly taking over before he could mask the emotion. “What did you do?” he asked as he unbuckled, opening the door of the truck.

Angela shared a look with Nyla, “We may have gone speed dating.”

Tim stared her as he rounded the truck. “You what?”

“She agreed, after some encouragement and bribing.”

“Speed dating.” Tim said as he ran a hand over his face. “What happened?”

“She had a loose string on her shirt and one of the imbeciles tried to pull it without telling her.” Nyla began telling him.

“Then she laid him out. It was impressive really.”

“Not the point Angela. Listen, we tried to calm her down, but she ran out of there and locked herself in the car.”

Sighing Tim moved towards the driver’s side of the car. “Unlock the car.”

Angela hit the button, Tim opening the door simultaneously, getting in behind the wheel before he pulled the door close.

Lucy stared ahead as the vehicle shook, her training officer sliding into the seat next to her, his chest against the steering wheel as his left-hand moved to his side, fumbling with the buttons on the side of the seat.

“How the hell does Ang drive like this?” he grumbled as the seat began sliding all the way back, his long legs slowly unfolding. “So, what happened boot?”

Lucy held a hand to her face, her elbow resting in-between the glass of the window and the door as she continued staring ahead, watching the things moving around the outside world of the vehicle.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.”

“Are you here as my boss or as my friend?” She asked, moving her hand down from her face as she began to wring her fingers.

Tim thought for a second, hesitating before answering. “Friend.” They were friends and they were coworkers but somehow, they were also more than that, their working chemistry setting the base of their friendship outside the four sides of the shop.

“I thought I was ready.” She sighed.

“For?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something more.”

Tim nodded. “It’s only been two months boot. Your recovery isn’t something that will fix itself overnight.”

Lucy somberly let out a lone laugh. “Like hell it will! I’m tired Tim. I’m tired of the pity, I’m tired of the looks, tired of it all. I just want to put it behind me, live a normal life.”

“I know.” He whispered. “But neither one of us has a time machine Chen.”

“Tim, it wasn’t-“

“Don’t. Don’t say it wasn’t my fault. I’m the one who- I almost lost you Lucy.” He told her, his voice cracking at the admission.

“We talked about this the other night. What happened was neither here nor there and both of us are going to have to move on from it sooner or later.”

Tim knew that his rookie was growing restless, the outcome of those twenty-four hours still eating away at her. “I think… what you need, is to find an outlet.”

“An outlet.” She stated, turning her head to face him.

“Something that takes the stress off, where your thoughts disappear and I don’t mean paintball, something a little more strenuous.”

Lucy snorted, rolling her eyes. “Isn’t that what sex is for?”

“That’s not a healthy outlet.”

“And what, Officer Bradford, is your healthy outlet?”

“I have a few, one of them being running.” He told her shrugging. “I try, every day, to run. In the morning, in the evening, doesn’t matter. If you hold onto the shit that we see on the job, you’re going to implode.”

She nodded. “So, what would you suggest?”

“Everyone’s different, you just have to find something that works for you.”

Lucy mulled over his words, silence enveloping the car before she took the opportunity to speak. “Thank you.”

“I would say anytime Chen but you’re making me miss Thursday night football.”

Lucy shoved his shoulder. “I’m sorry for ruining your Thursday with my insecurities.”

Tim flashed her a smile. “We all have our days boot. I do have to say that I wouldn’t mind seeing the video of you putting this guy in his place though.”

“What, so you can critique me?”

“No, so I can see you laying this guy out on his ass.” He said with pride in his voice. “Then critique you.”

A knock sounded on the driver side window. “If you two are done with whatever this is,” Angela said, gesturing between the two “we would like to get out of here.”

“Find an outlet boot.” He said as he pulled the handle of the door, his tall frame exiting the car. “You three text me when you get home.”

“Awwwe look Ang, I think he’s worried.” Nyla teased as Tim walked back towards his waiting truck, the man raising his right hand up the air as he flashed his middle finger.

It took several days and shifts to find what he was talking about, but as she wrapped her hands in tape, a bag of sand hanging in front of her, she took the advice given to her to heart. Lucy couldn’t help the smile that overtook her as she replayed the conversation that followed the disaster that was the other night as she began hitting the swaying bag. ‘Find an outlet boot.’

“Bring your elbow up.” A voice spoke from a few feet behind her causing her to jump.

“Giving boxing advice now are we Officer Bradford?”

Tim shrugged off the bag on his shoulder, letting it fall to the ground. “No but, I would rather you hit the bag properly than have a bummed wrist tomorrow and us get into a shootout.”

Lucy jabbed the bag. “Sounds like advice to me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?”

She stopped the swaying bag, grasping it with both hands. “Fine.”

Tim stepped closer, moving into her line of sight as he stood next to the bag. He began critiquing her, Lucy adjusting her stance and positioning countless times as he began placed a pair of boxing pads on his hands. “Enough with the bag. Hit me boot.”

“What?” she said in astonishment. “I’m not-“

“You will Chen, hit me.”

Lucy took a swing at him, missing him as he ducked. “Again.” He ordered.

She forcefully swung her right arm, her throw landing on the soft padding. “Good. Again.”

They kept it up, Tim counteracting her throws and punches, throwing in his own punches that she successfully blocked for the most part.

“See? Outlet.” He told her as he pulled a bottle of water from his bag, taking a sip.

Lucy began unwrapping her wrists, wading the tape into a ball. “Thanks, Tim.”

“You’ve got a mean right hook but your uppercut could use some work. We’ll meet back here in two days boot.” He told her, gathering his bag, moving towards the door.

“Don’t I spend enough time with you already?”

Tim turned around, smirking. “Two days boot.”

Lucy sighed, turning around mumbling under her breath. “He’s lucky I like him.”

“Heard that!” he yelled as the door closed.

[collecting-stories]

3am Friend - c. 01 - Topper Thornton

Summary: Topper and y/n have been in a “friends with benefits” relationship since September but the line between friendship and something more are already starting to blur. 

A/N: This is basically four chapters: Fall, Winter, Spring, and Summer. Also it’s going to be a bit of a practice run at writing more smut for me lol. Also it’s smut like, right under the cut lol. 

Sophomore Year Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

What were you doing with your life...

You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle a moan as Topper’s tongue pressed against your clit, the cold tiled wall of the shower stall pressing into your back had your skin erupting in goosebumps, a contrast to the almost burning water that was hitting you. It was futile to bother concealing whatever noises Topper managed to pull out of you, the curtains of the shower stalls did little to shield their occupants from the rest of the communal bathroom, the plastic more often than not creating the perfect outline of whoever decided to use the showers. There would be no mistaking you, pressed against the wall, one leg tossed over Topper’s shoulder, his own figure silhouetted, kneeling in front of you with his hands digging into your hips.  

If anyone did find you there was a 90% chance that they weren’t just going to let you off with a ‘sorry for intruding while some guy eats you out in the shower’ but any concern you actually had about the consequences of your hookup had died the minute Topper had joined you in the shower stall. Technically he’d texted you to come over to his dorm, he lived right off the main campus, close to your building, in a still operational fraternity house. He split a room with some guy who liked to stare but never actually talk when you came around. Yours was not a relationship of anything substantial. You’d hooked up with Topper at a party and exchanged numbers and, two days later, responded to a very obvious booty call at one in the morning.  

“Holy shit!” You cursed, your voice coming out an octave higher than usual, fingers gripping Topper’s short blond hair. You could feel every muscle in your body tense as you tried to keep yourself upright, your other hand grabbing hold of the dial on the faucet in a desperate attempt to not completely fall apart as Topper sucked on your clit. He had moved one of his hands at some point, middle finger now moving rhythmically in and out of your entrance, working you through an orgasm.  

When you came down, your muscles relaxing and you pushing back against the wall to keep yourself steady, leg slipping off Topper’s shoulder, he stood up. He caged you in almost immediately, moving as close as possible in the stall and kissing you, the salty taste of cum still there on his mouth. “That pad really comes in handy,” he teased, referring to the silicone mat you’d bought two weeks earlier to scrub your feet without trying to do a yoga pose in the shower.  

You hummed, “I’ll leave that in my review on Amazon. Great for not bruising your knees.” When he kissed you again you smiled, eyes fluttering closed for a split second. This was the worst part. The part when you ran out of things to say and he would untangle himself from your arms and leave, promise to text you later.  

It was the thing that your roommate had warned you about in the beginning that you had ignored.  

“That’s like, not even friends with benefits though.” She had admonished when you told her for the first time that you had started this bizarre relationship with Topper. “I mean, you’re literally having casual sex with some rando guy that you hooked up with at a party. At a frat party. Do you even fucking know anything about him?”

“I know his name,” you had replied, rummaging through your closet to find something to wear to class, “and his phone number so I can booty call him.”

“Brilliant.” She snapped, “he could be some fucking weirdo axe murderer preying on college girls.”  

You rolled your eyes, “he’s the same age as us.” You had never been one for casual sex in your life until this point and you weren’t sure why it seemed enticing now but you wanted to branch out a little. You’d gotten your first boyfriend in ninth and you’d stuck with him until August of this, your sophomore year of college. He broke up with you, claiming the distance between your school and his was too much for him to deal with.  

It was your roommate that had dragged you to the party at the fraternity house, claiming that it would get your mood up after the guy you’d been with for the last five years decided he couldn’t do the 2 hour commute between your school and his. Three shots of tequila later and the blond you couldn’t take your eyes off of asking if you wanted to ‘go somewhere quiet’ were all the motivation you needed to put the past behind you and stop groveling over a guy who wasn’t even there.  

Still, the fact remained, even now as Topper put his hands on your hips, looking at you through the mirror and kissing the back of your head, you knew that casual sex was not your forte. Not simply because you had never done it before but because you found yourself craving those small, just after when the bubble had broken yet and there was still some lingering affection, moments as much as you craved the sex. But you had both agreed, casual. Something to take your mind off school for a few hours, a stress relief. For you it was more than that. You’d never been the most confident when it came to sex or your body, all that self-love/self-care crap was wasted on you and your gnawing insecurities. Having casual sex was like constantly challenging yourself to be your most exposed and most intimate with someone who was still relatively a stranger to you.  

“You know I think it was technically supposed to be my turn,” you mentioned, running the wide-toothed comb through your hair. You should’ve detangled in the shower except that wasn’t really top priority. What would you even say, ‘oh, would you mind not eating me out for a second so I can brush my hair’…you’d live with the awkward waves that dried in.  

“I thought we switched.” Topper shrugged, pulling his sweatpants back on. His shirt went over his head and you involuntarily pouted at the mirror, there went the view.  

“No, I said…this doesn’t technically count.” You replied, referring to the party three nights earlier and the head you’d given to avoid having actual sex on your period. You were at the tail end and you’d contemplated not going to the frat house at all but changed your mind at the last moment.  

“Hey, if you’re offering, I’m not gonna turn you down.” He joked.  

You turned to look at him, the mirror not sufficing as you stuck your tongue out playfully. “I have a test tomorrow, I have to study.”  

“Come over, you can study in my room. We’ll hang out.”  

“We are incapable of hanging out Topper.” You replied, grabbing your shower caddy and heading for the door. He walked right out after you, both of you ignoring the rather appreciative stare of one of the other girls on your floor.  

“Not true,” he’d suffered a nasty break-up in high school that he gave no more background to other than to say she had cheated on him extensively. Casual seemed to be the best he could allow himself to do though you weren’t sleeping with anyone else and, as far as you knew, neither was he.  

Your roommate looked up from her desk, rolling her eyes at the sight of Topper following you into your dorm. In the beginning of September, when this first started, it felt like you only ever disappeared at night. You saw Topper when he texted you and you might smile in the café but you never actively sought each other out. Now it was creeping toward November though, with Halloween right around the corner, and Topper felt like an accessory. He was always right there wherever you were, not that you were complaining. To anyone on the outside you looked like a couple but you both maintained the friends with benefits story.  

“Oh look who it is.” Almost two whole months of him and your roommate still greeted Topper with a disdainful glare. She was fervent in her belief that the guy you thought was damn near perfect (if only he’d actually date you) was hiding some deep-seated flaw.  

“Hey G,” Topper greeted, taking a seat on your bed as if he couldn’t tell just how annoyed your roommate was.  

-

Geena and you had been thrown together after enduring a freshman year from hell. Her roommate from the year prior had been awful, like caging yourself in with some 00’s mean girl who only found satisfaction in watching you suffer. Your own freshman roommate had been neurotic about the dorm and constantly scrutinized whether your cleaning methods were sufficient. Geena was a blessing, you got along well, hung out all the time, had become fast friends in the short time since the beginning of the semester. Topper was the only thing you didn’t agree on. She thought it was unhealthy, that it would only lead to heartbreak.  

“You can’t have casual sex with a guy for three years…people already think you’re dating. Some girl I don’t even know asked me if I could get her into a Phi Sig party next week cause my roomie is dating one of the guys.” There was a new reason almost daily with Geena, like she tore away a new page on the calendar and it offered up cons to your relationship with Topper in lieu of a word for the day.  

“I can ask for her.”  

“Oh my god, that is not the point.” She snapped.  

You sighed, “I don’t really care if people think we’re dating.”

“Why?” She asked the question so smugly you already knew where she was going with this. And you knew why it didn’t bother you that people thought you were dating, why you sometimes even fanned that flame.  

“G-“

“No, tell me why? People usually keep that shit quiet so they can hook-up with other people too. So why don’t you care?”  

“Because if people think we’re dating…they won’t try to date him.” You shrugged, practically mumbling the last part. You hated that she knew that off the bat, that she could tell that you liked him so much in such a short span of time. And you knew she had a point to all her antagonizing. You had been in too deep since two weeks into September when he told you that you looked pretty in something your ex always said made you look fat.  

-

You held the seam of your towel shut as you rummaged through the set of plastic drawers underneath your bed. Geena had done the bed on risers thing for optimal storage and you had followed along, semi grateful for the added space since both of you seemed inclined to transport your entire bedroom with you. Topper’s foot nudged your side as you got closer to him and you looked up, matching his smile when you caught him staring at you. You were sure Geena was sitting behind you rolling her eyes.  

“Guess I’ll go grab something to eat.” She announced, as if your very presence had worn her down.  

“I’m just getting changed, I think we’re heading over to Topper’s.” You replied, looking back over your shoulder at her.  

Geena scrunched her nose and stood up anyway, “still would rather not be here while you got dressed so I don’t have to pretend like I can’t see this one leering at you.” She shot Topper a look of contempt as she passed. If it was real, if he asked you out and he was really, actually, your boyfriend, Geena was positive she’d have no problems with him. He seemed like alright and he certainly made you happier and more confident than she’d seen you in the beginning of the year. But she hated the thought of you getting hurt and didn’t want to be just sitting on the sidelines watching it happen.

“I don’t leer.” He joked, turning back to you once she was out the door, “I don’t leer.”

You didn’t answer, instead grabbing your underwear out of the top drawer and pulling them on once the door was shut. The first time you had ever gotten dressed with Topper around you’d made sure that you were obscured from view, still too bashful and self-conscious of the way that you looked without clothes on. There was still that split second moment when you doubted yourself, when you thought about maneuvering your towel to hide your body from view, as if after two months Topper might suddenly look at you and decide he didn’t like the softness of your stomach or the width of your hips or any other imperfection you could find.  

You pushed through the voice though, dropping your towel and getting dressed. When you reached for the bralette your tossed on the bed beside him you realized he was looking at you. “G might have a point, maybe I should turn around.” You teased, his eyes snapping up to meet yours.  

“I’m admiring the view.” Topper replied, not at all embarrassed at being caught.  

You rolled your eyes, pulling your bralette on and adjusting your boobs until it sat right. “I don’t even know why I’m putting this on,” you mentioned, grabbing his sweatshirt to pull on over it, “I should just stop wearing underwear to your room and then I won’t ever lose it.”  

“You lose stuff? Whose wearing my hoodie right now?” He asked, grabbing the edge of the hood to pull you closer to him.  

“Your room has swallowed three of my bras...the nice ones too. Or Will like, took them.” You said.  

If there was some kind of formal set of rules that you and Topper had ever thought to draft, kissing outside of actually having sex with each other should have qualified as a major no. But nothing of the sort had ever been discussed and now, Topper leaned over, stealing a quick kiss before he got off your bed. Maybe now didn’t count as a ‘just friends’ moment though since technically you were heading back to his room, presumably to have sex. To finish what he’d started when he showed up seconds before you got a shower.  

“What would Will need your bras for?”

“To masturbate over? Who knows...all I’m saying is, I wear bras to your room, I never seem to leave with them.” You replied.  

“I promise I will find all your missing bras today, okay?” He grabbed your lanyard off the hook, keys and wallet all in one place, pulling the door open for you. “Wanna grab pizza later?”  

You chewed on your bottom lip, waiting a beat to answer him. Grabbing pizza meant, inevitably, hanging out after. Becoming friends was unavoidable, there was no way that either of you could have navigated sleeping together without some sort of relationship forming. So far it was only friendship, or at least that was all either of you were willing to let it be. Anything more than that meant an actual romantic relationship forming, something you wanted but were determined not to let yourself even entertain the idea of.  

“Fine but not from that place by Barnaby's.” You replied, pushing the door open and stepping out into the quad with him. The local bar was always teeming with college students and the last thing you wanted was someone recognizing Topper, because everyone always seemed to recognize Topper, and invite the two of you in.  

“We’ll just get it delivered.” He shrugged.  

The first time you met Topper, enough to tequila to not make you totally embarrassed as you danced with Geena in the main room of the Phi Sig frat house, you had laughed when he told you his name. It was a combination of the heels you borrowed from another girl on your floor and the alcohol that had you losing your footing, catching yourself in time not to smash your whole body into a coffee table, and landing on the couch beside Topper. He was taking a sip of beer and looked relatively startled when some almost drunk girl fell into the spot next to him.  

“Sorry!” You’d shouted over the bass as you tried to undo the straps of the heels that you were sure were also guilty of twisting your ankle.  

When he introduced himself two sentences later, “I’m Topper” you couldn’t resist a good dad-joke and smiled at him, “but I hardly know her!”

“Amazing.” He had been less amused by the joke than you were though he didn’t really seem bothered by it, at least not bothered enough to move on because he stayed on the couch for three more turns of the conversation before asking if you wanted to talk elsewhere. You were sober enough to know exactly what he meant and obliged because you were still kinda pissed at your ex and you didn’t want this year to pass the same as last year had, with nothing but school work to show as a passing of time.  

At least you’d have a good story to tell.  

Highschool you had a healthy apprehension of frat houses and the people who lived in them. You’d seen enough episodes of CSI, Law and Order, Veronica Mars, and any other crime show that existed in the early 00’s to know that frat houses were breeding grounds for terrible things. Your parents had even attempted to sway you from going to your first-choice college simply because the greeks still existed on campus. You could only imagine what they’d think now, knowing that you had spent more time in Topper’s room than you had in your own in the last month at least.  

Frat houses might’ve been sordid in your mind but so far, your reality of this one was exactly what it looked like on the surface, a bunch of guys living together with limited supervision. You still stuck to Topper whenever you were inside but you’d never had a problem with anyone in there and you rightly assumed that most of them just figured you were his girlfriend.  

“Will told me he wants that TA position next year, with Prof Berkley.” You mentioned, flopping back onto Topper’s bed and tilting your head so you could look over to the empty other side of the room that belonged to his roommate. Aside from staring at you too much and possibly stealing your bras, you still had a hunch that Topper was just messing with you and had them stashed away somewhere, Will was alright. You were both in the same area of study, pre-law, and he had told you days earlier that he was gunning for the same TA position with your advisor as you were.  

“I don’t know anything about it.” Topper replied, kicking his slides off and climbing onto his bed with you. The countdown in your head started now, hopefully soon you would be naked.  

“Yes, you do because I literally told you about it at breakfast.” You pointed out. He’d texted you that morning to get coffee with him and you ignored Geena when she told you that sex-friends don’t get coffee together. “I said I was applying for the TA spot because it’s a massive opportunity.”  

“Sounds like something I don’t have an opinion on.” He said, rolling over so that he could kiss you. “Enough chit-chat.”

“You’ve got a one-track mind Thornton.” You joked, moving your arms above your head as he pulled his sweatshirt off of you.  

“Well can I interest you in getting on that track with me?” He replied, lips brushing over your neck as he spoke. You hadn’t bothered to put on any makeup before you left your dorm, you hadn’t even bothered to dry your hair all the way. But who were you to worry about things like that when Topper was pushing your bralette up over your head.  

You jerked slightly, wriggling around on the bed when the fabric got caught half way up your arms, binding them above your head and covering your face, Topper taking advantage of the moment and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around it as you arched your back into him. “Topper!” You whined.  

He hummed, pulling away from you to take the bralette the rest of the way off and tossing it off the bed, “sorry, couldn’t resist.” He said, smiling at you as if he truly couldn’t resist. The thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach.  

You didn’t let yourself have the moment though, pulling him in for a kiss the moment he had untangled you, hand on the back of his neck as you ran your tongue against his bottom lip, biting gently as you pulled away. Topper held himself up on one elbow, his other hand pushing passed your sweatpants.  

“Always right down to business,” you teased.  

“What do you want me to take you out first?” He was joking, you knew that, but the way he said almost sounded like he truly would take you out if you wanted him to. But then what would this be, if you had dinner before you hooked up.

“Some foreplay would be nice.” You kept the conversation light, the way you always did, and he laughed.  

“I thought the shower was foreplay.”  

You would’ve answered, thought of something witty to make him laugh again, but he had pushed your underwear to the side, fingers pushing passed your folds to brush your clit. He made the same satisfied hum that he always did when he realized that you were wet, like a quiet pat on the back. His middle finger circled your clit, a barely there shudder of nerves setting off in your stomach as you moaned.  

“I was supposed to,” you managed as he shifted further down the bed and you realized what he was doing.  

“We have plenty of time.” He promised, pressing a kiss to your stomach.  

Topper hadn’t seriously dated anyone since his break-up with Sarah. Kelce told him constantly that he was putting too much on that relationship, as if it was the holy grail by which to rate every other relationship that he had. And maybe he was allowing himself to be too scorned by something that lasted little more than a summer but he couldn’t help it. Topper was nothing if not a hopeless romantic and that had felt like such an idealistic time in his life until it all inevitably crashed around him.  

He tried casual hook-ups before you. A few girls from high school that he knew that made it practically impossible for the casual to still exist alongside the hook-up. College was easier but freshman year had been mostly dedicated to rushing the fraternity that his dad and grandfather and great grandfather had all rushed before him. Then he met you at a party in the beginning of sophomore year and he told himself it was casual but he knew that this was far from it.  

You weren’t anything like Sarah and maybe he had done that on purpose. Specifically slept with someone that didn’t remind him of anyone back home as some way to separate himself from that part of his life. To fully embody the frat boy, jock, life he was trying to live through. He figured it would just be a onetime thing and then maybe a sometime thing but now it was most definitely an all the time thing. Kelce told him that he should just ask you out but Topper felt like he was in too deep already.  

This was supposed to be strictly friends with benefits, if he crossed that line and you said no he would be crushed.  

“Topper,” you moaned, bringing him back to the moment. You shuddered as he pulled his fingers out of you, placing a kiss just below your belly button. When you tugged at the short blond hairs at the back of his head he shifted, letting you lead him back up so that you could kiss him.  

You had told him specifically that it was your turn, as if he really cared about taking turns at all. “That’s the whole point, isn’t it? You don’t have some fussy girlfriend bitching about giving you head.” Rafe’s colourful comments about the situation had been largely ignored but Topper knew, less crudely, he was right. The whole reason the two of you had started this was for sex of any kind and you had been the one to suggest taking turns.  

“My ex wasn’t very forthcoming with praise. He always told me I was kinda shitty at sucking dick so, maybe it’d be kinda nice to practice.” It’s been a colourful sentiment, one you had felt oddly comfortable sharing with Topper when the two of you first sat in his room discussing the arrangement.  

And while he wholeheartedly disagreed with your ex-boyfriend, Topper just liked being the one to give. He liked that moment when everything overwhelmed you enough that you let go and stopped worrying about if you looked attractive in a certain position or if your thighs were too big or if you had any unwanted rolls. That split second between overthinking and not thinking at all was powerful and Topper liked being the one who caused it. He liked the way you looked in his bed, biting your bottom lip to keep quiet so other guys in the house didn’t hear you. The way your hair tangled just from laying on your back. He could list a million things, every one more obscure, less noticeable, than the last because he felt like when you were around all he could do was pay attention.  

“Hey, quit daydreaming about Hailey Bieber-“ you teased as Topper’s movements slowed down, his lips brushing languidly against your collar like he was in some lethargic trance.  

He squeezed your side, baring his teeth to nip at your neck, scraping them across your skin and making you laugh as you turned your head towards his. That lazy smile you got was there, eyes hooded as you watched him, the moment passed and he leaned in to kiss you again. When he broke away it was only to grab a condom from the box on his dresser.  

Topper pushed your legs apart, settling between them. He slipped one hand beneath your back, guiding it into an arch to bring your chest closer to him, mouth finding one of your breasts. His tongue pressed against your nipple, swirling around it as you dug your nails in the sheets beneath you. He looked up at you, eyes hooded, as he pushed you back down against the bed. “God,” he breathed out, “you’re so fucking gorgeous.”  

You grabbed the back of Topper’s neck, pulling him into a kiss, slower than the ones before, more tender. Your other hand moved down between your bodies, finding his dick, enjoying the way he moaned against your mouth as you guided him in. Despite the orgasm he’d given you in the shower you still felt that stretch as he pushed in, kissing across your jaw and sucking a bruise into the space just behind your ear.  

You would never tell Geena but somewhere between quick hook-ups and longer nights together your ‘just casual sex’ had turned into something else, something far more meaningful though neither of you would acknowledge it.  

Instead you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, Instead, you just held onto him, nails scratching a trail down his back as he found a rhythm, hips snapping against yours. The sound of your panting breath and his grunts filled the room; you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning when Topper’s fingers dipped passed your folds to massage your clit.  

“Oh god, Topper,” you whined, turning your face enough to press your cheek into Topper’s pillow, the faint smell of his cologne hitting your nose. You breathed in, always a fan of the subtle musk.  

“Does that feel good baby?” His lips brushed your ear as he spoke, words barely registering over the sensation of him. You opened your legs a little further, lifting your knee and hooking your leg over his back. The angle seemed to give more depth and his movements picked up speed. His fingers circled your clit faster as he continued to whisper words of encouragement to you. A quiet “come on baby, I know you’re close”.  

“Are you?”  

His comment had seemingly brought you just out of the haze enough to ask him if he was close. You knew you were, he knew you were, and you wanted him to be there too, just on that edge with you. As he pulled out you clenched around him and when he pushed back in it felt deeper than before, that all too familiar groan of satisfaction leaving his lips as you guided him back into a kiss. He didn’t answer your question, instead taking the opportunity to kiss you, tongue working it’s way into your mouth and dragging across your teeth. You found your grip on his hair, tugging hard enough that he jerked his hips in retaliation, hitting so deep you felt yourself go off that edge, his motion become erratic as he followed, smoothing your scream with another kiss, biting your bottom lip as he pulled away.  

There was always a moment of frenzy in the beginning when you first started hooking up. You would rush to grab your clothes, partially because you felt the need to leave when the act was done and partially because you didn’t want him to linger too long on your body. You were a temporary fix for a problem he didn’t feel like dealing with on his own, he wasn’t responsible for making you feel good about yourself. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t obligated to tell you that you were beautiful or lavish any compliment onto you at all, not that your ex had ever been willing to either. You didn’t stay, for the first few weeks you trudged back across the lawn from the frat house, back to the dorms, and snuck in. But things had changed by mid October and what was once a booty call at one in the morning when he couldn’t sleep was now you going over for pizza and a study session that turned into an afternoon spent in his bed.  

“What time is Will back?” You asked, sitting up as Topper came back into the room with two water bottles. There was still that awkward moment just after sex, as if neither of you knew how to leave behind the intimacy of the act and return to normal life. Like you were both waiting for the other to admit that maybe just friends wasn’t really what you wanted at all. So he disappeared downstairs to get water and you pulled your underwear and his sweatshirt back on, leaving the bra somewhere on the floor.  

The empty other side of the room served as a poignant reminder that time alone was only ever temporary.  

“Not sure,” he shrugged, “he’s been talking about some girl on campus that he’s dating. Won’t reveal her name apparently, he’s convinced Fitz will try to fuck with them if he finds out.” His fraternity brothers were not the same as hanging out with Kelce and Rafe every day but they weren’t the worst substitutes for entertainment. Fitz was the head of the house, a senior whose greatest claim to fame was being party to a wildly controversial radio-show that amounted to nothing more than some white guys imitating Rush Limbaugh and the Douche from Parks & Rec. He said dumb shit just to piss people off and had an unappreciated proclivity for trying to ruin any relationship one of his brothers found themselves in.  

Will was always an easy target for him though he’d set his sights on you a few times, assuming like others did, that you and Topper were dating. You had never mentioned it to Topper, Fitz was gross and you were looking forward to his inevitable graduation at the end of May.  

“Fitz totally would,” you replied. Last year you existed on no one’s radar. You hadn’t so much as gotten an offer to go out on a date with someone and yet this year, all because of Topper, you were sure, it felt like everyone in his circle seemed to pay attention to you in some way. “He told me he prank called Will’s mom two weeks ago pretending to be the on campus nurse for a bit on his radio show.”  

Topper looked up from his phone and the pizza he was ordering, frown etched onto his features. “When did you talk to Fitz?”  

“His econ class is right down the hall from my 12:30 poly sci class…he always ‘walks with me across campus’ in case I get mugged apparently.” You laughed, “I think he just does it cause he knows we hang out.”  

“I didn’t know he was talking to you.”  

You shrugged, Fitz had been goading you for weeks but it wasn’t anything that felt harmful. Just some mind-numbingly dumb conversation about parties and girls and his radio show and how hot he apparently thought you were. “It’s not a big deal, if he was bothering me I probably would’ve said something.”  

“Right,” Topper still looked miffed despite having no reason to be. You weren’t interested in Fitz and, even if you were, what say did he have over it. That old familiar feeling crept in though, the one he recognised as the same one that the plagued him after Wheezie told him that Sarah had cheated on the boyfriend before him only to find out that she had cheated on him with John B. When he looked over you were pouting at him, “what?”

“Your room is so cold.” You replied, pulling the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands as if that was an indication of the frigid temperature. The old house lacked insulation in most of the rooms, Topper’s being one of them.  

He rolled his eyes, climbing back into bed with you, the momentary worry subsiding. You weren’t his girlfriend but in that moment, as he pulled the blankets around the two of you, guiding you back down to lay with him under the covers, he could have fooled even himself about the relationship. He held his arm out in front of both of you so that you could see his phone and the menu for the pizza place.  

“I’ve been really in the mood for pepperoni.” You mused, not bothering to look at the screen and opting instead to tuck your face into his bare collar. Your hand slipped down from his chest and Topper grabbed your wrist before you could make it to his briefs.  

“Pizza first,” he said, “you’re already getting sleepy.”  

“It’s cause I’m cold.” You insisted.  

He turned to place a kiss on your forehead, “pizza.” He reminded you again.  

-

Halloween weekend creeped up and, before you knew it, Phi Sig was decorated and advertising a Halloween haunted house party for everyone on campus. Geena was going home on the actual night of to trick or treat with her sister but she agreed to go to the party with you that weekend. She loved a good party and any excuse to dress up.  

When you weren’t spending time with Topper, and sometimes when you were because he had a tendency to hang out just to hang out (the friends side of the benefit), you and Geena marathoned episodes of Supernatural. And it was at  her coaxing that your Halloween costume became an homage to the show and your favorite character. A semi-loosely interpreted Dean Winchester, complete with a flannel over your black tank top and the mark of Cain crafted by Geena using her best fx makeup skills. You wore cut-off jean shorts with your hiking boots, showing off the legs that you were usually self-conscious about. Geena was Cas, sticking a little closer to the actual costume though she made a few alterations.  

“I gotta ask…” Fitz said, coming up to the two of you the moment you were in the door, as if he was the greeting committee.  

“I’m Dean Winchester.” You explained, “G’s Cas.”  

“You dressed like a guy for Halloween?” Fitz clarified. “I was hoping for something that showed a little more…” he made a motion with his hands to indicate that the little more he wanted to see were your boobs.  

“I have the obligatory sexy cat costume but that’s…” you looked passed Fitz’s shoulder, eyes landing on Topper down the hall chatting with some friends, a smile instantly lighting up your face, “that’s for his eyes only.”  

Fitz looked behind him, catching sight of his frat brother and rolling his eyes before turning back to you, “yeah well, if Thornton’s not appreciative then you know where to find me.”  

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you laughed, stepping around him. Geena had broken off already, heading for the keg that had been set up in the corner. When you started down the hall Fitz found someone else to antagonise, leaving you to vie for Topper’s attention, not that it took you much. Just walking up had him breaking his concentration to look at you, the smile automatic. “Hey,” you greeted as he hugged you, keeping his arm around your waist as he brought you into the conversation.  

“Hey, you look great.” He praised, offering you some of his beer. Topper’s costume was best described as JFK yachting in Hyannis. He looked like a preppy New England white boy and you suspected it was all clothing he already owned thrown together differently. There was always that slight air of prep to him though college and a growing collection of hoodies were slowly eating away at that.  

“Thanks, I feel a little out of place,” you joked, noting a girl down the hall that was wearing a mock up of Amanda Seyfried’s bunny costume from Mean Girls. “Though I do have a costume change saved for later.”  

“Oh yeah,” that smile was a full blown mischievous grin and you wondered for a split-second how down he would be to ditch the whole party and take you to his room. “Does it involve these clothes on my floor?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You teased.  

You had been stressing over the purchase of a costume that could’ve been more accurately described as lingerie since it arrived at your dorm a week earlier. Did friends with benefits buy lingerie sets specifically for showing off? You weren’t sure where that one fell on the line but you were positive you were crossing into territory that was reserved for girlfriends. But even with those doubts, just the thought of Topper seeing you in something that was just for him to see you in somehow made you unable to pass up the opportunity.  

Topper groaned, pulling you closer to him so that he could press his forehead into your neck, “baby,” his voice sounded almost close to whining and you ran a hand through his hair. He nipped at your exposed collar before lifting his head again to look at you. “How long am I supposed to wait?”  

“One track mind, I’ve said it before…I’ll say it again.” You laughed, trying not to think about the way this felt so much like a relationship, pulling away from him but taking his hand, “come on, I wanna get a drink.”  

He followed you to the makeshift bar set up by the keg, refilling his beer while you ladled a generous helping of jungle juice into your cup, trying to fish as many sour patch kids as you could to add to it. You were drinking mostly to calm the nerves that were bubbling up. Geena would be gone Halloween night and the whole next day because she didn’t have classes and you were thinking of inviting Topper to stay over. Regardless of the hour or the amount of time you spent together afterward, the post-coital bliss always came to an end and one of you always left the other. Even if you got breakfast the next day there was a stretch of time that existed between the night before and the morning after where you were nothing to each other but bodies.  

“So, Geena’s going home on Halloween, I thought maybe you could come over,” you suggested. That part was a given.  

Topper looked almost confused that you were asking, “yeah, figured we’d end up hanging out anyway.” He replied.  

“Well…” you worried your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, “I was thinking, she won’t be back til the next day…like, at night, and I thought, maybe you’d wanna stay over.”  

No. There was a voice in the back of his head, the logical one who knew that crossing the most obvious line, the one where he stayed and you woke up together, was a turning point that he wouldn’t be able to come back from. It was bad enough that he had let this become something that bordered on being a relationship to anyone looking in on it, but letting himself pretend like it was…he wasn’t sure he could come back from that when this all ended.  

“Yeah,” he said, quieting the logical side of his brain, “as long as you wear this ‘something else’ for the duration of my stay.” It might be a bad idea but who was he kidding, he was so far gone he’d accidentally referred to you as his girlfriend when he was on the phone with his mom just the day before.  

That smile returned to your face, the one that was so sly yet excitable at the same time, the perfect juxtaposition of innocence and deviousness, “Well, I was gonna wear nothing but-“  

“Nothing works for me.” Topper replied, using his free hand to hook his fingers through your front belt loop and pulling you toward him so that he could kiss you. Definitely not friends with benefits, but you’d both keep pretending until one of you cracked.  

-

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[yuzukult]

effortlessly (m) || jungkook & reader

title: effortlessly  pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, romance, school!au, smut (poorly written, don’t come @ me) words: 4.5k warnings: this chapter contains smut. a/n: i wrote this on wattpad like months ago (unfinished) but i was kinda sad bc you can see the view count so i decided to finish it here and spruce it up since tumblr lessens my insecurities lol also, i decided to make this my first series (a five part(?)) series!!! note: jungkook & reader are 18+, seniors in high school. series: part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six || part seven || part eight || part nine || part ten || epilogue 

"Alright, pick your partners!" Your P.E. teacher exclaims, clapping her hands to quicken the students' pace to get started. Jungkook beams at you with a smile before giving you a nudge into your arm. "Let's be partners, it'll be more fun this way!"

"Okay, okay," You unwilling agree, crouching down before falling on your bottom. You bend down and motion Jungkook to hold down your feet so you can start doing the sit-ups. Leaning over, he sits on his knees then wraps his soft, gentle hands around your ankles. "Go."

Oddly enough, this wasn’t the first time when you began to notice things about Jungkook that made him seem... more and more like a man. It was so strange – he'd been your childhood friend, so in your eyes, he was still that innocent little boy who played house and leap frog with you outside in the backyard. His shirt was snug around his arms that were flexed from holding down your ankles, hair ruffled from the wind blowing, and his jawline was especially sharp in comparison to the roundness his head was in his younger years.

You gulp. Hands crossed over your chest, touching your shoulders, you move your upper body up and down continuously, trying to avoid his gaze. "Why are you looking away, weirdo?" He chuckles, head tilting in confusion. "Uh, no reason."

"You're not afraid that you might accidentally kiss me, are you? Like we're in some k-drama?" Jungkook raises a brow, stopping you in the midst of a set. "What?" Your head shoots to his direction.

"Come on, we've kissed before, this is nothing."

"How about we be each other's first kiss." Jungkook suggests, tapping his toes on the floor anxiously. You were both in your early teen years, sitting on his bed side by side as you've always done, discussing about how your classmates were starting to get their first kisses and you personally were afraid of not being able to get one soon enough. "I mean, you mentioned that you were scared, right? You said it yourself that you don't think you’d get the opportunity any time soon. I can give you mine, and you can give me yours. It'll be perfect." You bite your bottom lip, feeling something churn deep in your stomach when he turns to look at you. "Are you okay with that?"

"I'm okay with that." Jungkook cups your cheeks with both his hands, and you felt your ears turning hot. Closing your eyes, you feel him scooting closer when his heavy breathing hits your face. Pursing up your lips, you feel his lightly meet with yours before he pulls away with the cheekiest grin.

"What—stop saying stuff like that in public. People will stare." Glaring at him, you wrinkle your brows in slight annoyance. "I'm not in the mood to get attacked by some crazy fangirls around here."

"Hey you! Why are you stopping? Chop chop!" The teacher proclaims toward you, and fearfully, you quicken your pace in compliance.

"Crazy fangirls?"

You move hastily as your form starts to mess up before you stop then stand, ignoring his response. "Your turn." Jungkook switches positions with you without argument, except you sit horizontally from him and on his feet. "You didn't answer my question. What do you mean by crazy girls?"

"I don't know? You're like a pretty boy kdrama lead type of guy. The girls here think they're the leads, and you're their romantic interest." He slows down his sit-ups and observes your expression. "Kdrama-lead? Pretty boy? What are you saying?"

"Think about it. How many girls have confessed to you in the span of a week? You're telling me that you don't notice these things?"

One of Jungkook's friends, Hoseok, jumps on his back eagerly to gain his attention then messes up his hair. "Come on, little guy, let's grab some lunch!" He grins from cheek to cheek, tugging him along with the rest of their group. "Oh, um, Jungkook," a soft voice speaks; Jungkook and his friends freeze, directing their attention to the girl standing before them. "Yes?"

Her hands were full of gifts – a bag with treats and a flower inside, a small carton of chocolate milk, and a letter stamped with hearts and doodles all over it. "This is for you," She says with her head down and arms extended to give him her confessions. "Aw, sweet! What's the occasion?"

"Oh—I—"

"Come on guys, I'm starving!" Someone shouts from the back, pushing Hoseok and Jungkook to move forward as the latter waves goodbye to the girl with a smile on his face while he grabs the items from her hands. "Thanks for the gifts!"

"Hah, there's no way," Jungkook retorts, sitting up from the workout before clicking his tongue in attempts to retrieve the memory of the girl's confession. "Okay, but what about the other girl from Tuesday?"

"Tuesday?" He looks at you questioningly. "What about Tuesday? There was a girl?"

"You don't remember?" You slide yourself off of his feet, and settle yourself on the dirt across from him. "That girl, the one who recently dyed her hair blonde. She bought you breakfast and gave you that little note in the bag. Did you even read that note? Did you even read the other girl's note?"

Jungkook looks up, trying to recall back to the moment. "I really don't remember seeing any of this. There was a note?"

"Ah, so you didn't read any of the notes. They were all confession letters."

"Confession letters? People still do that?" He lets out a chuckle before getting up, and brushing the dirt off his pants. "We're in high school, I thought that was something people left behind in middle school."

"I think it's kind of romantic," You shrug, and Jungkook offers his hand out for you and you accept, standing and dusting off your shorts as well. "But it is kind of sappy. You can't blame them though, these dramas are setting too high of standards for these people. Either way, you should tell them whether or not you reciprocate feelings. Are you really that oblivious?"

"Reciprocate feelings?" Jungkook crosses his arms before he continues, "They should know that you're the only girl in my life." 

What?

"Yeah, but I'm your friend, not your romantic partner." Jungkook lets out a sigh before he runs his hands through his hair, and you’re suddenly wishing you were the one doing it. "Okay, fine. But help me, I don't know how to let them down easy."

You were neighbors since the beginning of your lives, and didn't know of any friend that you both have known longer than each other. There were weekends where you would sleepover at each other's house, play games, watch movies, and eat junk food. It was almost a ritual – something the two of you do on a bi-weekly basis that it was never questioned by either of your parents. There was a level of trust that was established; he was welcomed to your house, and you were welcomed in his.

You're not sure when it started, these weird emotions you began to feel towards Jungkook. He was always the same annoying, overly excited, lazy guy. You didn't think you liked him in that way but there was this weird fuzzy feeling you had every time he smiled, or whenever he would blurt something flirtatious, even though you knew he was joking. You've seen him at his worst—room filled with trash of wrappers from candy, empty bags of chips, half drunk bottles of soda and water, and his clothes, dirty and clean, mixed in his room as if a tornado hit. But you had also seen him at his best, competing at his swim meets against the biggest names in the nation and locally combined, and during his practices where he’d still show the same persistence and motivation. Jungkook wanted to become a professional swimmer, and his ambitions were something you had always been supportive of and found admiring. He always left you questioning what your goals were, and how you were going to get there.

Jungkook snaps his fingers in front of your eyes before sitting down on the bench in front of you with his lunch. "What are you thinking of so deeply? Or are you staring at that guy over there?" He questions, tilting his head curiously.

"Oh, sorry, I just got caught up in my thoughts." You shake your head at the thought of having feelings for him before grabbing your chopsticks and digging into your lunch. "You're not thinking about the girl that just confessed to me in the lunch line, are you?"

"Wait—what? Again?"

"Yeah," He says, reaching into your lunch to steal a bite of some of your side dishes. "She was telling me how she thought that you liked me but since you never really tried confessing, this could be her opportunity to ask me out. I like that women these days are taking the initiative. Girl power," Jungkook pumps a fist up before poking through your lunch again. You slap his hand again and grimace. "Circling back to the main topic... So what did you say in return?"

"I told her to be patient and that you'd ask me out."

You choke on some rice, coughing as you grab the water that Jungkook hands over to you and chugging it down. "You told her I was going to ask you out?"

"Remember this morning? I said that you're the only girl in my life."

You couldn't help but think about what he said for the rest of the day. You're the only girl in my life. Groaning, you slide your arms on your desk with your hands in your hair, tousling it in slight frustration. He couldn't keep saying things like that; it made your heart flutter.

"Hey," A classmate, Yura, turns around in her seat in front of you, tapping your arms that were covering your face. She was a friend you made several years back, now coincidentally having the same classes as you. "What?" You mutter, peeking in between your palms. "I heard another girl confessed to Jungkook again during lunch." You sigh, letting your hands fall back onto the desk. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well," Yura starts, pushing her seat back to move closer to you. She's sitting backwards in her chair  with a bright smile spread on her face. She loved to bother you in every way possible but beside that, she was equally of a great friend as Jungkook had been to you. "I'm curious as to why he hasn't dated anyone yet. No one here sparks an interest?"

"Well," You mimic her with a laugh trailing afterwards. "Are you hoping you can spark an interest?" She waves her hand and shakes her head, dismissing the assumption. "Oh, no no, I'm just curious. He just seems like the type to want to date around but he won't even glance at a girl. Is he gay?" 

You pull out a notebook from your bag when you notice your teacher walking into the classroom, rolling your eyes at her comment and nod your head to gesture the teacher's presence. "He mentioned before he wanted to focus on just becoming a swimmer. Maybe that's it."

"Okay fine, fine, I'll drop it. Anyway, let me come over today! I've been dying to try that new candy you bought from that store downtown. I haven't been recently..."

Later that day, on your walk to your house with Yura, she stops in her tracks and drags you aside to hide behind a tree. "What—"

"Hush!" She spits, peeping out from the side as you wipe her saliva that sprayed on your face. "Disgusting, Yura. What are you looking at?" She tugs on the sleeve of your uniform and you both sneak a look from behind the tree. "It's Jungkook. Who is that girl?"

You see him opening the gates in front of his house with a female, who looks around your age, tracking behind him as he readily unlocks the front door to his house. She looked pretty – although that was presumption since you didn't really know what her actual features were other than from behind. But her hair was lusciously long, and she had a petite body, appearing to be Jungkook's ideal type. You haven't seen her before, so who was she? He never really had any female friends other than you. "Guess he brings girls home after all."

The two of you quickly make way to your house, rushing up the stairs as your mom shouts at you from the kitchen. "Stop running! You're going to slip in your socks!"

Yura already had her backpack dropped at the door of your bedroom, peering through the window as she bends down below the windowsill's height. "Look! She's in his room." You had a perfect view of Jungkook's bedroom from your own. Sometimes you'd catch yourself looking at him changing his shirt, or doing his homework. There were moments where that's where he'd be able to contact you if your phone died, too.

"I'm not looking," You respond, grabbing her stuff from the floor and placing on an unoccupied chair. "That's an invasion of privacy, Yura."

"They're talking," She commentates, ducking below at times when either of them face her direction. "What are they saying? What do you think they're saying?"

You walk toward Yura before pulling the blinds down and it hits her fingers. "Ah! What was that for?"

"Stop spying, Yura!" In all honesty, you just couldn't bring yourself to see him be with some girl, especially if she's been in his room. "They could be doing some intimate stuff. Are you trying to get free porn? Do you not have that at home?" She groans in return, falling back onto the floor. "I really wanted to see something juicy."

"Let's lose our virginity to each other," Jungkook proposes, fiddling with his fingers, trying to evade your gaze. "Eventually, we're going to have to do it with someone, but our firsts... wouldn't it be more comfortable with each other?" It was around 8pm, and Yura had already gone home. Jungkook threw a pebble at your window to gain your attention so you could come over to “talk.” He said it was urgent. This was urgent?

"You're not a virgin?" You let slip from your lips. "Sorry, I just... I assumed that you already gave yourself to someone because I saw someone in your room earlier."

"You peeked through my window?" He cocks a brow, finally locking eyes with yours. Your face was flushed in embarrassment, lips pink and slightly swollen from chewing on it so anxiously and hair unkempt from the friendly rough play with each other before. Jungkook knew he made jokes here and there about how you were the only girl in his life for him but he truly met it. He always had lingering feelings for you, but he was afraid of getting rejected then losing the friendship between the two of you.

"Accidentally," You lie, falling back onto the bed and looking up at the ceiling. "I'll be honest. I thought you slept with her. I thought you slept with a lot of girls."

"I'd tell you. Even if you didn't want to hear. I feel like I can't hide those things from you." He interjects, lying back onto the bed beside you, turning his head to observe your expressions. "I want to lose my first time to you."

"Wouldn't it be weird?" You turn to meet your eyes with his, tapping your fingers together restlessly. "You'd see me naked. It'll change the entire view of our friendship."

"That could never happen — negatively, I mean."

It didn’t take much convincing when it came to Jungkook. You’d do anything for him and likewise. He never failed to go above and beyond for you, extending his hand whenever you needed it. And you? Well, you felt the same way. "Then... okay. Let's do it."

It was just another Saturday night, where you'd plan to stay over at Jungkook's for a marathon of a kdrama the two of you found interest in recently. There were snacks and drinks in his room, and he brought the bedsheets, blankets and pillows onto the floor to get closer to the small TV monitor he had in his room. You both sat at an arms distance, and you were hugging one of the pillows while you were throwing another piece of popcorn into your mouth before you hear the door creek open and his mom peers in. "Another movie night?" She asks with a smile, handing Jungkook a plate of cut-up watermelon. He nods and thanks his mom before she closes the door with a goodnight.

"Ah, she's so nice. She knows I love watermelons the most." You comment, drinking some water to clear your palette before reaching for a slice. Taking a bite, juices spill out of your mouth, signaling with your hands to get Jungkook to get you a napkin as you shove the rest into your mouth. He gives you a napkin but doesn't let go, leaving his hands in yours. Furrowing your brows, you manage to say with cheeks filled with watermelon, "What are you doing—" Jungkook was already leaning in, licking the spill. He traces it with his lips before meeting with yours, moving in closer with his free hand on your waist.

What is he doing? You felt gross. A wash of emotions flush through your face when you realize you're not dressed for this. Was he trying to do your first time now? And how? Your hair was loosely tied up in a bun, wearing a baggy hoodie with some shorts that you quickly grabbed from one of your drawers. You felt so insecure. You didn't even have makeup on — at least if you did, you wouldn't look so... average. Jungkook was handsome, sexy, and cute. But when you saw yourself in the mirror, you couldn't even call yourself beautiful or ugly... just average. Was Jungkook going to lose his virginity to someone who didn't even look at anything he would want to remember?

You didn't move. He took the lead for a couple moments before reclining back, bumping his forehead with yours, lips swollen from the tugging of the kiss. "I think... tonight is the night. Can we do it tonight?"

"I don't really feel... attractive enough right now." You confess after swallowing the remains of the fruit. "Trust me," He says between his breaths that seemed a bit heavier. "You're attractive right now." Letting go of your hand, he leans against his bed on the floor before lifting you from your waist to straddle him. "It feels effortless this way."

Moving closer, you try to sit down completely on him, hands confusingly trying to find a placement before he grabs them and guides you to wrap them around his neck. He groans, raising your hips slightly to lose contact with his. "Sorry, I'm kind of hard and it hurts when you press down that hard," He reveals, ears brimming in red. You immediately back away before he brings you back closer. "Sorry—"

"Don't be sorry," Jungkook says before pulling you into another kiss, hands gripping onto your thighs before maneuvering them up and down your legs. You slowly reiterate his motions, opening your lips slightly for him to slip his tongue in. Your fingers comb through his hair before he pulls away for a moment, panting uneven patterns compared to yours. "My hormones are raging, and your shorts are just really short. You're not even wearing a bra," He states as his hands begin to roam around your bottom before he slides them underneath your hoodie to feel your bare skin. "You're beautiful." Oh, that made my stomach feel weird.

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, planting delicate kisses, following a suck and a nip afterwards that made you feel slightly uncomfortable but at the same time pleasurable. Unconsciously, you move your hips into his before a faint moan escapes his lips. "Sorry," You apologize, lifting yourself up, only for his hands to shove them back down, grinding his hips into yours. Suddenly, you felt warm down there.

Jungkook takes a moment to take off his t-shirt, exposing his built chest. You had noticed he had been working out lately, but you never got to see the results of it. He tugs on the hem of your hoodie, giving you a look. "Can I take this off?" You slouch a bit, feeling your cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I kind of have a junk food belly at the moment." He lets out a chuckle, pinching your stomach a bit before shaking his head. "I think it's attractive, please let me take it off." You hesitate, but comply anyways and he discards the material. Your chest falls in his sight, and he felt himself twitch in his pants before grabbing a breast and letting the other one's nipple slip into his mouth. Your hands find the crown of his head and tug on his hair gently, earning a hum from you. "Feels good?" He asks, and you reply with only a nod before he lays your body back onto the floor, holding onto your head before slipping a pillow underneath.

Jungkook plants a kiss on your lips before tailing down to your neck, and then your chest, playing with your nipple before leading his hand down into your pants, finding a place in between your legs then brushing your clit. He leans back up to kiss your ear before whispering, "Show me how to make you feel good." You nod, feeling a bit flustered, still placing your hand on top of his outside of your shorts. You guide him, and when he touches the right spot, you can't help but gasp and close your legs. "Please?" He begs, and you open your legs back up for him as he slips a finger in. You were warm and wet around him, and his breath quickened against your ear. Jungkook pulls in and out before adding another finger, earning a whimper from you and he slows down, noticing your face crinkle up in slight pain. He wanted to stretch you enough for him so you wouldn't be in as much pain later.

The feeling eventually subsided and replaced with pleasure. You stop his hand when you feel yourself almost hitting your high and lock eyes with him as he raises a brow questioningly. "I'm ready."

Both of your pants were off, and your legs were spread for him as you watched him lean to his bedside table to grab condoms from a drawer, opening on and sliding it onto his shaft. He positions himself outside of you, looking up to meet your gaze before gifting you a peck on the lips, slowly entering in. "Ah," You wince in pain, as he moans quietly from feeling your warmth. "I'm going to move slowly, so please tell me when you're ready." He says, lips pressed against your collarbone, holding himself back from letting it go.

After several slow thrusts, you squeeze his arm to signal him to move faster. He eagerly obeys, quickening his movements before he feels his stomach clenching moments later. "I think I'm about to cum," He says, body tensing above you as strings of cum paint your inner walls. Jungkook's chest is against yours when he collapses from reaching his high, face in your neck with his fringe damp and body glistening with a layer of sweat. He regains his composure before lifting his head and giving you another kiss on your lips. "I'm sorry, that was fast, you were just so tight and warm— do you want me to help you finish?—"

You lay, hair a mess, no sign of the tie anywhere, skin sticky, uneven breaths, and cheeks flushed crimson. It felt good— even though it didn't last for long— but it felt good. Shaking your head, you pull him in for a longer embrace. "Don't worry about it, it was good. I'm content," You say honestly. You didn't need to finish because you felt like you were at your high already.

The weekend passes, and Monday hits.

"Wait... you're telling me that your first kiss and your first time was with him? And you've never wanted to date him?" Yura says astoundingly. "But you're still friends. There's no way you don't have feelings for him. You like him, don't you?"

You scratch the back of your head before shrugging your shoulders, opening the textbook laying in front of you. "I don't know, Yura, you're asking me a lot of questions right now. I'm not sure how to reply." It was the middle of a break session in class, and people were sitting around, talking or playing games, so it was rowdy enough for the two of you to have a conversation without anyone overhearing. "That's what someone with a crush says," She responds, shaking her head before tapping her pen against the table. "Maybe you should confess to him or something."

"Confess to who?"

You felt your heart drop for a moment -- no one heard anything, did they? Eyes looking up at the person whose body lingers, you notice that there are two people standing at the end of your desk. "Oh, Jungkook, Hoseok, you scared me," Yura has her hand on her chest, inhaling in a deep breath. "I decided to drop by your class since Jungkook is too busy to hang out with me today," Gleams Hoseok, arm hanging around Jungkook's shoulder.

"You guys didn't answer my initial question, who are you confessing to?" Jungkook asks. Although the question was supposed to be directed to the both of you, his eyes were directly locked onto you. "Uh, pft, no one," You turn your head to look at Yura, stare hinting for her to help. Luckily, she reads this and claps her hands together with a laugh. "Me! I should confess to a guy,"

"Oh, who?" Hoseok had already grabbed a chair and sat down at this point, suddenly interested in the conversation. "And how are you going to do it? Are you going to do it like those girls did for Jungkook?"

Jungkook shakes his head, and extends his arm out to shift Hoseok back in his seat. "No, I think you guys were trying to talk about someone else's confession, not yours, Yura."

The bell rings. Hoseok frowns, standing up before returning the chair back to the rightful owner, ruffling Jungkook's hair. "That's my signal to leave, please tell me what happens next!" He makes his way out of the classroom as Jungkook waves goodbye but keeps his stare at you. "Saved by the bell. But I expect a talk later."

Fuck.

[agirlwhoisaphantom]

Moonlight- Adam Sackler x Reader

Chapter 2: Mystery Boy

Word Count: 4750

Warnings: Insecurities, fluff

Author's Note: I actually loved writing Shosh and I can't wait to add her more. Besides that this is one of my favorites.

Read Chapter 1

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

Walking to school or work was the highlight of your day. Adam was always there to accompany you on your way there.

At 7 am, he was always outside of the apartment complex expecting you. Adam didn’t care if last night he only got five hours of sleep. He would say to himself that he wanted you to get safe to your location. But deep down, he knew that he got addicted to having your presence next to him.

For years, you had gotten used to walking alone to every place you needed to go to. Meeting Adam, it changed. You’ve gotten used to him being outside waiting for you with your favorite drink. Occasionally, he would bring you breakfast so you could eat on your way there. On the days that you had an exam, he would take out a crumpled piece of paper full of questions to ask you about the subject. He wanted you to be ready for your exam. He cared about your education. Now that he was in your life, he didn’t want to become a distraction.

Within a couple of weeks, you both have known each other. There still hasn’t been the first kiss. You would get on your toes and kiss Adam’s cheek. Meanwhile, he would kiss your forehead. That would be the closest thing that you would get to a kiss.

The two of you agreed to take it slow, even though you both were craving more.

Amelia was the only friend that knew about Adam. She thinks that he is a weirdo, but she was glad that you were finally moving on from Oscar. You were unsure if you wanted to tell your other friends about him, not because you wanted to keep Adam a secret but incase if things didn’t go well. None of your friends would bring him up.

Getting into a new relationship was always scary. Learning how to trust someone new with your heart and your deepest thoughts was a difficult thing to do. You want Adam to know you, to know about the nightmares you have in your sleep, to what you like on your toast.

You were in class while these thoughts were running through your mind. You were spaced out, holding your pen against your paper. “Sunday by 11:59 pm. The Case Study will be due, and no late papers will be accepted” your professor raised his voice. You quickly made a note on the corner of your paper as a reminder.

When classes ended, you thought to yourself, ‘Hmmm, I wonder what snack he’ll bring me today and what shirt he’ll be wearing.’ You received a message from Adam as if you were manifesting him to talk to you soon.

2:38 PM Hey Kid, I’m going to pick you up a little late. The place that I usually get our coffee is hella packed.

2:40 PM I’ll be there soon, hopefully

Receiving that message took you by surprise because he was never late to pick you up. You did appreciate that he told you that he was going to be late.

2:41 PM Hello Goof, that’s okay, just get here safe.

2:42 PM Those muffins better be out of the oven if it’s taking this long.

You loved teasing him, and he loved teasing you. It could be small things such as tickling you and you tickling back to picking you up and spinning you around. The small things brought you two both to laughter and a smile.

Waiting for him, you decided that you wanted to catch up on some of your readings.

On the corner of your eye, you could see Adam holding two cups and a paper bag. “Sorry for being late. Usually, it’s never that packed” He hands you the cup and the paper bag “you requested a muffin, so there is a muffin for the captain” he points to the bag as you were opening it.

You were grateful that he would bring you food whenever he would pick you up from any place. Adam grabs your backpack and puts it over his shoulder. He offers you his hand as you tried to get up. Before he could pull you up, you made sure you had a tight grip on your coffee and muffin.

You both walked around the city for a while as you were finishing your coffee and muffin.

Café Grumpy was around the corner. You grab Adam’s arm, shaking it lightly, and pointing towards the safe “we should go there. It’s one of my favorite places” there was excitement in your voice.

Adam notices where you were pointing, he never told you no, but this time he was hesitant. He didn’t want to go there due to bumping into someone he knew. He had a concerned look on his face. “Are you sure you want to go there? I heard that their coffee is not that great.”

Noticing Adam’s concerned look on his face, you tilt your head. You wanted to know why he was confused. “I’ve been there many times with Amelia. It’s our go-to place to grab a coffee.”

There was a moment of silence as you were trying to read his facial and body language. “Please, Adam, can we go? Just this one time,” you had a pouty face. You knew making that face was Adam’s weakness, so you didn’t do it as often. You grab his hand and look at him straight in the eye “please.” Looking into his eyes, you had puppy dog eyes.

Adam always wanted to please you and get you whatever you wanted. He didn’t like the idea of going, but your happiness mattered to him. He rolls his eyes and gives a small grunt. “Fine. We can go.”

Grabbing his hand, you turned around in excitement and started running towards the shop. You were excited to introduce him to your favorite place in town.

He opened the door for you, and you walked inside. The smell of coffee and fresh cookies surrounded you. It felt like home. Now that Adam was with you, it felt perfect.

Ray was preparing coffee and was facing his back towards you, so he wouldn’t have known if you had gotten there. You got near the cashiers, still holding Adam’s hand. “Hello Ray, there’s someone I want you to meet.” You turn around to see Adam.

The last time that Adam saw Ray was when he had to return that dog and ended up cursing him out.

Ray turns around he makes eye contact with Adam. He ignored him, and his eye went straight to you. “Hey, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Where have you been?” He looks back at Adam, hoping that he wasn’t the guy you wanted to introduce him to. “Where is that person you wanted me to meet?”. Ray looks around to see if there was anyone else.

You tilt your head in confusion because you wanted to introduce Ray to Adam. You look back and forth to Adam and Ray. “It has been a minute. I’ve just been busy” You grab Adam’s hand and pull him towards the front, so he can be next to you instead of behind you. “This is Adam, and I wanted to introduce you to him” you had a small smile on your face, but your eyes lit up.

You felt happy that you finally dared to introduce Adam to one of your friends.

Ray had a concerned look on his face as his eye switched from you to Adam, back and forth after he got done staring at both of you. “What do you want to order, Adam? And the usual for you, right?” You nodded.

You both went to sit down meanwhile the drinks to get ready. As you both went to sit down, Amelia walked in.

Ray notices that Amelia walked in and walks in her direction as fast as he could. HE grabs her wrist and takes her to his office. As he closed the door, Amelia panicked, “Ray, what are you doing?” She had her arms crossed and wanted to scream, but she didn’t do it. She trusted Ray.

Ray walks back and forth. He covers his mouth as he is in a shocking state of mind. “Amelia, is she seriously talking to Adam?” He continues to walk back and forth. He didn’t know what type of emotions he was feeling, but one of them was that he was concerned.

Amelia was confused, trying to catch up with what Ray was asking. “Yes, she is” She started to make conclusions in her head as she watched ray pace around the office. “Wait- do you like her?” Amelia wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask that. She didn’t want to be right either.

He stops pacing and looks at Amelia with a serious face. “No, Amelia, I don’t like her. I have a girlfriend” there is a small pause in between. “I’m just- not sure if Adam is the right fit for her” He relaxes and sits on top of the desk.

This conversation continues between Amelia and Ray.

Meanwhile, you and Adam noticed that Amelia and Ray were arguing in his office. It was not that loud, but you could still hear it. This was the first time that you heard Ray and Amelia argue. You wanted to go in and see what was going on. But it was already weird enough with the interaction between you, Adam, and Ray.

You waited for Amelia and Ray to get out. You wanted to ask her what was going on between them. But in case it was about you and Adam, you wanted to wait until you got home.

Amelia approaches where you and Adam were sitting. “So guess what happened at work today” She sits down across from you and him. Amelia noticed that you both were holding hands. “Hello Adam, long time no see” she has a fake smile on her face.

Time passes by as Amelia rants about what happened at work, and Adam was trying to listen to the conversation but couldn’t. He grabs your hand and puts your palm facing up. He starts tracing the lines on your palms with his fingers.

You were trying to pay attention to what Amelia was saying, but your focus was on how gentle Adam was being by tracing his fingers on your palm.

Before you could say anything, you could hear Ray yell for us to get our order in the background. Adam quickly got up and went to get the coffee.

Once Adam left, you stared at him leave. There were sparkles in your eyes. Amelia grabs your hand “hey, googly eyes, are you serious about him?” You ignore her comment. She snaps her fingers “hey, pay attention to me. Do you like him?” You stared at her before you gave her a nod.

Adam got thee coffee tray. Once he turned around, Ray was trying to catch his attention. “Adam, if you are serious about her, please don’t fuck it up. She’s too precious and innocent” Ray was referring to you. Even though he only saw you as a friend, to him, you were like a little sister and wanted to protect you as much as he could.

He turns around to face Ray. “Don’t you think I don’t know that” he turns his head, so he has a clear view of you. “She has made me so happy these couple of weeks” He had a smirk on his face as he told Ray how he felt about you.

Ray didn’t know his intentions, but he could tell that Adam was genuine about how he felt. “Be careful. She’s been through a lot” a small sigh escaped his mouth.

Adam and Ray continue to talk. They didn’t only talk about you, but they wanted to catch up with one another. Adam wanted to know how things were between him and Shoshannah.

On the other hand, while Adam and Ray were catching up, Amelia wouldn’t stop bugging you about Adam. She had the main question if you were serious about him and not just a game you were playing. You got tired of the conversation and started to space out, “Amelia, Can we talk about it once we get home? Please” You didn’t mean to cut her off, but it was an off day for you already.

You didn’t care if the people around you heard you talk about the feelings your felt towards Adam. But you wanted to tell Amelia in private. You felt like things were getting serious with him. You wanted to sit down with her and pour your feelings into her.

Even though for the past half an hour, things were weird between you, Adam, Amelia, and Ray. That didn’t stop you four from having a great time with one another. You all shared a laugh.

An hour passes by. You were already halfway done drinking your coffee when you notice that one of your friends from undergrad walks in.

You got up as fast as you could to go and hug her. It’s been a while since you have seen her. Seeing her for a long time made your day. “Oh my goodness, Shosh. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other” there was joy in your voice. You hug her for a little while longer before you let her go.

Shoshannah walked into the café, wanting to visit Ray. When she saw you, she was so excited to see you. You were there for her freshman year at NYU. You both developed a strong friendship when you were attending there. You were in your junior year of college when you met her. But you two had a great friendship that no matter how long you both haven’t talked, you both acted like there wasn’t time separating you two.

Shosh hugs you back tightly. Once you both let go, she looks up and down at what you were wearing. “Girl, that outfit you are wearing to totally fetch” she snaps her fingers as approval to what you were wearing.

You spin around to show her your full outfit. She gasps in surprise “you look so hot in that outfit” she had a small little smile on her face as she winked at you.

Ray notices that Shoshannah was there and goes around the café stand. “Hey Shosh, here is your drink and your food” Ray hands her those items.

Shoshannah was grateful that Ray gave her something to eat and to drink.

You noticed how they interacted and started pointing Suttle and looking back and forth as you knew something might be happening between them.

Before you could ask them if they were together, Ray and Shoshannah both nod their head together as they knew you were going to ask them that.

You squeaked very quietly in excitement. You were so happy that your two friends that you held dear to your heart were a couple. You grabbed both hands and started to jump in excitement.

They both smiled as they were happy that you approved of them being together. Ray leaned over to kiss Shoshannah on the cheek before he had to go back to work.

Your focus was now on Shoshannah. You wanted to know everything from the moment they met till the moment they started to date. “Shosh, you have to tell me everything.” You had a bright smile on your face. You were truly happy for them.

Before Shoshannah could give you an answer, her phone rang. She had a concerned look on her face “oh my god, I wish I could tell you everything right now, but I have to go” she looks around the room and notices that Adam was there. She waves at him, and He waves back at her.

You notice who she was waving at, and it was him. “wait, Shosh, you know Adam?” your emotions were going off the roof. You were confused, and you had anxiety. ‘What if they dated and I didn’t know about that. If they did date, would I be considered a bad friend?’ Your thoughts were going wild, and your anxiety through the roof.

Shosh notices that and places a hand on your shoulder “yes, I do know him, and before you ask, no, I did not date him ew.” She showed a disgusted look on her face when she mentioned that. “He did date one of my friend, Hannah, but they ended it like months ago” She was always the one to give you more details than it was needed. She scanned your face on why you looked nervous, then she concluded, “wait, are you dating him? If you are, just a little F-Y-I he can sometimes be an asshole” she puts her hand near her mouth, trying to cover what she was trying to say towards the direction that Adam was sitting at.

If your day couldn’t get any weirder, you thought that seeing Shoshannah would make it less weird. Instead, she comes in here and tells you these random things that you didn’t need to know about Adam. “hey, we should catch up, I don’t want to keep you here any longer” you take out a crumpled piece of paper you had and a pen to write down your number.

After you hand her your number, you hug her goodbye. Once she was out of sight from the café, she texts your number. She wanted you to have her number saved as well.

You walk back to where Adam and Amelia were sitting, with the most confused look on your face. You were trying to process everything that has happened today.

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

An hour later pass by, you were ready to go home. Adam notices that you were getting tired of being there since you were resting your head on his shoulder. He tilts his head towards the door, telling Amelia that we should leave.

As usual, he carries your bags on the way home, and this time he was holding your hand. He rarely holds your hand, but this time he wanted to make sure that you didn’t fall behind and that you caught up with him and Amelia.

Once you both got near the apartment building, You all stood there at the entrance. Amelia notices that he was holding your hand “okay, lovebirds, I’m going to head in so you both can say goodbye” she points towards the door. She looks like she had an idea. Her face lit up at the thought she had. “Adam, you should come in and have dinner with us. Ms. supermodel here makes some bomb as food.” She smirks as she said that.

You could feel the heat of your cheeks risen. Your cheeks were a rosy color as you listened to Amelia mention that Adam could come in and have dinner with both of you. You were nervous about him going into your apartment, but you didn’t show it. You look at both in confidence. “Amelia, that is a great idea. He should come over and eat” you wanted to take control of the situation.

Amelia gives you the looks as if you were sure that you wanted him to go in. You gave her a small nod, it was like you read her mind, and you know what she was going to ask. Amelia points towards the doors “so I’m going to take a quick bath, but in the meantime, you two can go and walk around” Amelia didn’t let you nor Adam respond. She rapidly went inside.

You knew what she was doing. She wanted you to spend more time with Adam alone. In case if you were unsure about bringing him inside. Deep down, you knew it was already time for him to go inside the apartment.

Even though this was the first time Adam held your hand, you wanted to do it more. You grab both of his hands and start swinging them around gently. You look down to see how tiny your hands looked holding his.

Meanwhile, you were swinging his hands. He was thinking about places that he can take you. He looks back at you, noticing that the way your hands looked holding his. He lets go of one of your hands to place it on the back of your head to bring you in close to give you a forehead kiss.

He keeps his lips pressed on your forehead for a couple of seconds. Once he let go of you. He lets go of your other hand and places both hands on your face. He looks at your face admiring your beauty. His head was running wild of thoughts. "Princess," there was a small pause. He wanted to say the right words and didn't want to fuck it up. "You are so beautiful, and I'm happy that you are part of my life now" he was looking at every inch of your face.

He wanted to see every little imperfection you had, even though to him, you were the perfect girl he has ever encountered. He takes a big gulp before he says anything else. "I know it has been a couple of weeks that we have known each other, but I don't want to lose you" he shakes his head slightly, trying to hold in together.

Calling you, Princess, made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies. You didn't mind him calling you Kid or Captain all the time; you have gotten used to that. This was the first time he called you something else. You were unsure how to respond to what he said. You were happy and wanted to tell him how you felt. You place your hand on his cheek, you slowly moved your thumb, feeling how soft his face was.

You got on your toes, closing the space between you and him. Lips inches away from each other. You place your hand on his chest. You both search each other's faces for any sign of not wanting what was about to happen. You gave him a small nod with a smile on your face. Without hesitation, you grab his shirt and pull him in closer to you.

This was your first kiss with him. Your lips were pressed against his as if you have been craving this for a long time.

He pulls away for a moment and smiles, then slams his lips back down on top of yours. Placing your bag on the ground making sure he does not drop it. This time it was different. He wraps his arms around you to pull you in closer to him, not leaving any room between the two of you. As his lips were on top of yours, he parts them to deepen them. It felt like someone has lit a match between the two of you.

You made a small noise of pleasure as you continue to kiss him. You were practically melting in his arms. You let go of his shirt and move your hand from his face to wrapping your arms around his neck.

You both separate from each other's lips, just staring at one another with the biggest smile. It finally happened, the one thing you both craved from each other. You let out a small giggle because you hadn't noticed that Adam was bent down slightly, so he was able to kiss you.

You grab his hand and walk towards the apartment. Your apartment was on the third floor. Every step that you took, it felt like you were floating on cloud nine. Every time you looked back at Adam, you saw the same dorkish smile from the first day you met him.

Opening the door of your apartment, you felt your heart was racing. You were unsure how Adam would react to it. You look around the apartment to see if there was a mess, but there wasn't. It looked clean. Your first thought was Amelia got in here, and she started cleaning. Wow, that was a first. You did appreciate that she did that for you. Amelia's door was closed. As you were holding his hand, you give him a small tour of the place.

Adam pays well attention to every detail in the apartment. He notices that on the wall a painting with your name on the corner. He gets closer to it to see the details. It was a landscape painting, with a beautiful sunset in the background with mountains and trees surrounding it. In the sunset, there were stars.

In your eyes, that painting wasn't that great compared to what Amelia has hanging around. Adam didn't care about the other pieces of artwork. He only cared about the one that you did.

You walk in the direction that he was standing. You had a slight frown. "It's not the best, but it's something that I'm proud of doing" you start pointing at places on the canvas "this part I accidentally spilled coffee on and tried covering up," you let out a small chuckle.

Adam laughed when you mentioned the coffee part of the painting, "I think that is my favorite part of the painting, Captain" he points to the spot you were pointing to. He looked at every detail as he was in an art exhibit. Those were the strokes that you probably did at 3 am one day—trying to do them, not trying to mess up carefully. /but as careful you were being, you ended up spilling your coffee over it, but you were able to fix it.

You left Adam to continue admiring your artwork when you head to the kitchen to start cooking for dinner finally. You look around inside the fridge of what you can make, and you decided you wanted to make a meatloaf with mashed potatoes. As you were gathering the items, you noticed that one of the things you needed was on the top shelf. 'Great,' you thought to yourself.

You were trying to find the looking stepping stool you have around just if you needed it. The stool was not where it usually was. You took a big breathe and looked annoyed. The next thing you knew, you had to do was get a chair so that you can reach an item on the top shelf.

Adam was already sitting on the couch, looking at his surroundings, searching if there were other paintings that you have made. Other than that paintings, there were photos of pictures that you have taken.

There was a sound in the background as you tried to move the chair from one place to another. Adam looks back to see what was going on. When he catches you on the chair, gets the items you need, and places them on the counter, he gets up and walks towards you.

He stares at you with his left eyebrow rose. On one of the top shelves, he notices a box of cereal, and he grabs it. Without breaking eye contact, he winks at you and gets near you, and whispers into your ear, "shorty," he turns around and chuckles a little.

You were slightly annoyed by him making fun of your height. You murmured to yourself, "well, at least I can be unseen in the crowds, you long boy McKee." Even though he heard your comment, he decided to ignore it as he chuckled to himself.

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

You finished eating dinner with Amelia and Adam. You all shared chuckles and shared stories about one another. It was a good time. It was already night by then. Amelia wanted to go to bed. Meanwhile, Adam wanted to stay a little bit longer.

You invited him to your bedroom because you wanted to spend more time with him. Even though you had a king-size bed, his feet still tangled. You had so many pillows that surrounded you and him.

He was against the headboard in a sitting position, trying to attend to what he was watching.

You put your book down and stopped doing your homework. You went to lay right next to Adam. You placed your head on his shoulder and hugged him.

For the past couple of months, all you've known is grief and pain. Having your head on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his bicep, you finally felt at peace.

[thelargefrye]

INTRODUCTION

SUMMARY : how your relationship came to be

PAIRING : poly!ateez x reader

WORD COUNT : 2.1k

WARNINGS. falling down the stairs + injuries + mentions of a hospital

being an idol was hard. all the years of endless hard work and then the amount of stress that is put on you. it’s even harder when your company decided to “spice things up” and try something different for their new group.

which is how you came to be in a male dominated group as the ninth and only female member. granted at the time the group was being formed, you were the only female trainee and it wasn’t like the company totally didn’t know what to do with you. that’s a lie, they had no idea what to do with you. so that’s more or less a quick and possible bad explanation on how you ended up in the ateez lineup.

training with the guys was fine. you got closer to some members more than others. it was a lot of figuring out how to make you feel welcomed after they had already had a year+ to get to know each other and figure the other out.

it was fine.

san was the first member to really welcome you into the group and made to sure to include you in on everything. at the time, you used to see him being nice as a friendly gesture, but now... you realize he only did it because he had a crush on you.

“you did?” you remember asking him one night as you laid in your bed together. the two of you were remembering your trainee days when san confessed about his crush.

“you were practicing your dance for the monthly evaluation and i was just so... fascinated by how you moved,” he explained causing a blush to form on both your cheeks. 

you wonder what would have happened to your relationship if you had noticed his feelings sooner. when you were trainees and even after debut, your feelings were ultimately occupied by the leader of your group. of course hongjoong was so blinded by his love for music and the eldest member, that he didn’t even think twice about you most times on his own accord. 

it was pathetic how you all acted around each other really. one member in love with two others and then one of those two might have returned the feelings while also liking a different member. it was just one big emotional mess.

sometimes you wonder what set off the chain of events that finally caused you all to become lovers. 

“i think after you confessed to hongjoong-hyung that’s when everything started,” san said that same night. 

that was honestly a whole train wreck and a story for maybe another time, but just know that hongjoong thought you were messing with him. so you ended up playing it off as a joke until you got to the dorm were you cried for an hour in the shower and then proceeded to lock yourself in your room for the rest of the night.

“i felt terrible that night. hearing you crying on the other side of you door and not being able to help you,” he spoke and by this time you were holding hands. you gave his hand a comforting squeeze. “i’m not going to lie, i was shocked when it was wooyoung would volunteered to go talk to you.”

you let out a laugh, “yeah i was too. woo was really helpful that night, i think it really helped our personal relationship.”

and it was true, when you joined the team, everyone seemed rather welcoming of you. all but wooyoung seemed to enjoy having you around. the male would often ignore you or would bump into you and then blame you for being clumsy. it hurt, you’re not gonna lie, but you pushed on and did your best to ignore his rudeness.

when you two ended up talking, you found out he was only jealous of how close you and san had gotten and that he felt like you were slowly also taking yeosang away from him. “wooyoung, i would never try to take san or yeosang away from you. i love all three of you dearly and would never want to come between you and the others. i’m sorry i made you feel that way, it was never my intention.”

“i realize now that maybe it me just being insecure of myself. i shouldn’t have been so mean to you.” you remember holding your hand out to him suddenly. he looked so confused and just stared at your hand before looking at your glassy, red eyes. he then took it after a few moments.

“i’m y/n, its nice to meet you,” you said softly as you shook wooyoung’s hand. “i hope we can be friends!” 

“i’m wooyoung. i hope so too.”

after that you two started to become close and it was like all the rude and mean things he did to you were put behind you both. you also began putting your feelings for hongjoong behind you and instead you began to grow feelings for san and wooyoung.

“when did these feelings happened?”

“i think... around our first comeback and when we were doing our first world tour. i began spending more time with you both and you both made me feel safe and loved. at the time i thought something was wrong with me for liking two people. i think mingi might have found me crying about it one day and talked to me about my feelings.”

mingi was probably the only person you could have deep life talks with, without the thought of him judging you for them. he never once looked at you like you were a possible weirdo or even a whore as might consider for what you told him.

“there’s nothing wrong with loving more than one person.” that night he ended up confessing about his own feelings towards not only yunho but you. “see you’re not a weirdo because i love two people too. you and yunho mean a lot to me, and i would do anything to keep you both happy.

you honestly don’t know how it happened, but all you remember is him leaning over to kiss you. the kiss didn’t last long because of wooyoung suddenly coming into your shared hotel room. at first you weren’t sure if wooyoung had seen you two kiss, but you could tell by the slight flash of hurt that he did. 

before you could say anything, wooyoung quickly left the room, door slamming behind him. you were thought about going after him before deciding against it. “i’m sorry.” you turn to mingi and smile at him letting him know he didn’t do anything.

this went on for a few months, you and the other member dealing with your feelings that seemed to be growing for each other. but then none of you knowing how the other felt. it was during the wave/illusion comeback when things started really happening. you began making friends with female idols and hanging out with them.

“hey, y/n do you think you can give my number to seonghwa?” you remember soojin asking you, and yes we are talking about i-dle’s soojin. you hesitated at first knowing that your leader was still in love with seonghwa, but you took the piece of paper with her number on it to not be rude.

“oppa, what do you think about soojin from i-dle?” it was the next day during practice when you asked. you weren’t looking at seonghwa directly, keeping your eyes trained on the reflections in front of you. you of course spotted hongjoong carefully listening in.

“she’s cute,” is all he said.

“she wanted me to give you her number,” you explain and seonghwa looks at you with a tilt of his head. “do you,” you quickly glance at hongjoong, “want it?”

“sure. it’d be nice to get to know her,” he says with a simple smile. you can’t help but catch the look of panic and hurt flash through hongjoong’s features before he turns away to do something else.

after that, seonghwa would text soojin almost every chance he got. after a few weeks, seonghwa told you guys he would going on a date with soojin. 

“i felt hongjoong’s heart break and i knew it was my fault,” you admit to san.

“you were just being a good friend to soojin.”

“but i knew it would have hurt hongjoong-oppa if soojin-unnie and seonghwa-oppa had hit it off like they did. deep down i think i did it because i wanted hongjoong to know how it felt to have his heart ripped apart and then i realized how selfish i was.”

“is that why you threw yourself down the stairs? to stop seonghwa from going on his date?” your silence confirmed what he said was true and san couldn’t help but laugh. “that was probably the most stupidest thing i had ever seen you do. you scared all of us half to death,” he confessed.

throwing yourself do the stairs at the dorm, probably was and still is the most stupidest and dangerous thing you had ever done. honestly, it was a last minute decision to try and maybe secretly make up for hurting hongjoong. you made it seem like an accident, that you were running down the stairs in your slippers. something seonghwa may have told you not to do in fear of you slipping and falling. it worked though, seonghwa cancelled his date in order to take you to the hospital.

“i’m sorry,” you told seonghwa on the way back from the hospital.

“for what baby? it was an accident, you got hurt and i have to take care of my members,” he says, an arm wrapping around your shoulders to bring you closer.

“but i ruined your date with unnie.”

“i wasn’t that interested in her anyway,” he confesses and you look at him with confusion. “there’s... someone or someones else that i’m more interested in.”

“who?” seonghwa didn’t bother answering with words. instead he used his free hand to cup the side of your face before kissing you. 

“w-wait,” you gasp pulling away, eyes wide in shock as you look at seonghwa. your left speechless, what the actual hell? seonghwa was the last person on earth you thought could possible like you. “i-i-i don’t... i don’t understand.”

“i think all nine of us are rather confused about our feelings for one another.” you can’t help but agree to his words and how true they were. looking into your eyes you quietly ask, “will you kiss me again?” you don’t know what came over you in the car ride home. the two of you kissed the whole rest of the ride, lips swollen and red by the time you reach the dorms. you felt slightly embarrassed that you and seonghwa made out in the backseat while your manager drove you home.

he bided the two of you goodbye before leaving, the three of you never spoke of it again, which was honestly fine by you. once back in the dorm, san was the first one two greet you and ask how you were.

“i think we all need to have a talk about what’s been happening with us these last few months,” seonghwa says, the remaining eight of you knew what he was talking about and soon enough you were all sitting in the living room confessing how you felt.

“so what now?” jongho asked from his spot on the floor.

“well,” yeosang began and everyone looked towards him, “i did some research a few weeks ago and found out there are relationships with more than two people. polyamory is what the internet called it, and i think we should all give it a shot. its obvious that we all really care for one another, and i think we can make it work.” he finishes and yunho is the first one to agree.

“i think we should give it a shot like yeosang said!” you swear just his smile alone could reassure you of anything.

“honestly, i couldn’t imagine my life now without being with you all. you bring me so much happiness and love,” you confess, turning to look at san.

“me too,” he says before leaning over to kiss you. both of you occupied with kissing don’t realize yunho had entered the room. a pout forms on his face before he walks over and jumps on the bed, landing on top of you both. you and san groan as yunho begins smothering you both with kisses. 

“hey are you three having fun without us?” wooyoung whines as him and jongho walk by and eventually joined on the way too small bed. eventually the remaining four members joined you guys, and now you and san are being dog piled on top of. 

but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[the-arcana-romances]

~Female MC that gets catcalled headcannon~

So I apologize ahead of time but for a while these headcannons will be for the guys as I've played their routes and know them better. Eventually I'll add the girls as well, and might even do some headcannons for other characters too, such as the courtiers or major arcana.

Asra 🔮 ~He would glare at whoever had dared to even look at his girl, violet eyes narrowing to intimidate them ~Asra would give them a reason to fuck off if they didn't get the hint to back off, pulling you close against his chest and covering your neck in heated kisses and nips at the sensitive skin ~After leaving a few hickeys and causing you be a blushing mess he would be satisfied, taking your hand in his and leading you home while making sure to keep you close. This man won't let anyone else even look at you

Julian 🏴‍☠️ ~Straight up will go into defensive boyfriend mode and pull you against his chest, hiding you with his cloak. ~Hes so damn easily jealous and insecure that he will tell you to ignore them, "H-Hey now y/n, ignore them! What an idiot thinking they could earn your attention with those stupid words and actions!" ~Julian would lean down to press gentle and light kisses over your cheeks and nose all the while whispering, "I love you y/n..Please don't leave me. I'm better than that weirdo aren't I?" ~You would have to smile and reassure this dummy by pulling him down by his collar and planting a firm kiss on his lip, causing him to glow like Christmas lights and melt at your touch. "Julian, what do I always tell you? Nobody could ever take me from you, Mr. Devorak..are stuck with me." To which you knew he was more than happy with, the lanky man becoming a smiling goof at those words.

Muriel ⛰️ ~This man would be a bit confused at first, wondering just why the person is saying such things to you. Seeing your uncomfortable face and how you moved closer to him as you guys walked would snap him into protection mode though. ~Wrapping an arm around your shoulder he would pull you closer to his side and stare at the person, moving you along with him as he would watch the catcaller become so unnerved by the stares and run off into the crowd. ~"..Are you okay y/n..? Did..did they upset you?" Muriel voice would be laced with concern but still gruff and low as he stopped and gently lifted your chin, making you look up at him. When you just smiled at him and nuzzle into the warmth of his hand he would become nervous, cheeks flushing a deep red and reaching his ears. "....I'll protect you." ~With those last words the large man would lean down and place the softest kiss to your lips, pressing your foreheads together afterwards just to enjoy being close to you. You knew Muriel would always protect you, even just from some basic flirt in the market.

Lucio 🐐 ~Oh hell no, nobody talks to his woman let alone even LOOKS in her general direction without him going into jealousy mode. His golden arm would wrap around your shoulder, holding you close as he would glare daggers into the person. ~"Y/n, baby..I think I see an idiot. And I think that PERSON should leave before I have a little..accidental twitch of the nerves, I could accidentally swing this at someone." He would flex the clawed fingers of his left arm, still keeping you close and careful not to scratch you. ~Looking over at the person who had been throwing flirts your way, you'd giggle a bit and look up at the count. "Lucio..you can't just threaten everyone that looks at me, you know. As sweet as it is." His eyes would widen and a pout form on his lips, blushing lightly before a small but protective growl escaped from deep in his throat. ~Hands wrapped around your waist now as he pulled you flush against his chest, leaning down to whisper into your ear and nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. "They need to learn who you belong to, me. You're mine, so only I can look at you and flirt with you..my sweet pet~" this always sent shivers up your spine, feeling his fingers gripping your hips now and how he didn't care if anyone stared. "I love you y/n. Now, let us continue our walk!" As if nothing happened he would lock his arm gently with yours and lead you through the streets of Vesuvia, grinning like the sassy idiot he was knowing he had scared away yet another idiot dumb enough to gaze upon his beautiful beloved.

[georgescatcafe]

but i keep my hands (’til you come into the water)

rating: t warning/s: none pairing/s: georgenap genres/tags: barista george, fluff, humor, flirting, friendship, communication, getting together word count: 22,064 summary: George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.”

Or, the one where George is a barista, Dream is Sapnap's best friend, and Sapnap just feels a lot.

+ao3

;;

The first attempt is a disaster. Sapnap should’ve expected it, the object of his desires completely different from who he usually chases after. For one thing, it’s a guy, for another, he’s got his arms crossed, fingers digging harshly into his arms, brows furrowed, lips downturned in a frown. Usually, when someone catches Sapnap’s interest, they paint a more pleasant picture.

Yeah. Not this one.

“I’m working,” he snaps. “I get it, but I really don’t like being flirted with at work.”

“You’re so upfront,” Sapnap replies, smile still on his lips, though he’s certain his ears are turning red as more people turn to look at him where he leans against the counter, probably about to be completely eviscerated by this barista. “I like that.”

He’s not eviscerated. His fate is even worse.

He gets ignored.

“Julia,” George calls, placing down the drink handed to him.

Sapnap steps out of the way as a petite girl with blonde hair takes the drink from the other, delicate fingers curling around the cup, golden-tipped fingers contrasting against the pink of her drink. Sapnap finds himself fighting against the urge to shove his hands in his pockets, remembering something about Dream saying that’s an obvious display of insecurity. And Sapnap isn’t insecure.

He just doesn’t like the way George smiled at the girl as she walked away.

“It’s called customer service, idiot,” Dream tells him later, the two of them having agreed to meet at the library so Dream doesn’t have to smell the coffee that wafts a good way out past the entrance of the Starbucks Sapnap frequents. Sapnap rolls his eyes as he takes a long sip of his vanilla frap, not fully convinced.

“It’s just,” he finally says, drink set carefully down on the table, “it’s like… why did he smile at her like that, when you could barely hear her ‘thank you,’ yet he doesn’t even look at me?”

“Maybe because he told you to leave him alone and you didn’t?” Dream suggests, taking Sapnap’s cup and drawing a smiley face in the condensation. He presents it to the other, only for Sapnap to groan and rub it away. He’s not exactly in the mood for cutesy shit. He says as much.

Dream looks unimpressed. “I’m just saying,” he draws another smiley on the opposite side of the cup, “try respecting his boundaries next time.”

“But I only know him as the barista from Starbucks,” Sapnap whines. “How am I supposed to flirt with him if I only see him when he’s working?”

“Break,” Dream replies, easy.

“Ah.”

Dream sets down Sapnap’s cup, the new smiley still there. “Yeah,” he says, “ah.”

;;

Dream had also advised him to maybe read the barista’s nametag and find out his name, so that’s the first thing Sapnap does when he walks in on Wednesday, eyes going directly to the little plaque on the barista’s apron. GEORGE. Sapnap bites his lip. He can work with that.

“Welcome to Starbucks, would you be interested in trying any of our—oh.” Sapnap looks up from the nametag to see George’s eyes on him, face devoid of any emotion other than perhaps vague disappointment.

“Hi,” Sapnap says.

George’s lips press together, and it’s not a frown, so Sapnap takes it as a smile.

“One venti vanilla frap please.”

“Name?”

“Come on,” Sapnap says. “You so remember my name.”

George hums, brows furrowing as he enters the order into the computer. “You’re right. Something like… ‘nuisance’?”

Sapnap frowns.

“My bad,” George says. “It was ‘annoyance,’ wasn’t it?”

“Ha ha,” Sapnap replies, crossing his arms. “It’s—”

“Sapnap, I know.” George taps the screen and Sapnap tries not to flush at the sight of his wrists. It’s not like they were hidden. It’s not like George is some Victorian lady. Jeez. Embarrassing. And then—

“‘I know’?” he quotes. “So you remembered my name.”

“Kind of hard to forget,” George replies, “since you wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “Come on,” he tries, “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were.”

“I’m just determined.”

“Determined?” George repeats, unamused. Sapnap nods. George gives him a long look up and down (and it’s not checking him out, not even close, but Sapnap pretends that’s the case, straightening up and hoping the lighting makes him look good) before sighing and motioning to the person next in line.

Sapnap is ready to continue speaking, but then he remembers the main point of Dream’s advice and instead just rolls his eyes, finding an empty table near the window. 

Better? a text from Dream reads.

Duh, his name is George

George

Yes, George , Sapnap glances up at the barista, who’s now taking the order of a guy definitely taller than Sapnap, and judging by the size of his arms, probably stronger too, and when he walks away, George’s eyes definitely follow him, lips curled into a smile not like the one he wore when the blondie left, but rather… oh, come on. Dude what the hell

What

Sapnap doesn’t take a picture, but he does try his best to describe the other customer to Dream. George was like..drooling over him what the hell!

I doubt it

When Sapnap looks up again, George is most definitely not wiping any drool away from his mouth, instead wearing a polite smile as he takes an older woman’s order. It’s as if Sapnap made up the smile he wore watching that guy walk away.

Ok, he concedes, maybe not drooling, but he definitely like… I dont think Im his type :(

As if u ever gave up that easily, Dream’s reply is fast, and Sapnap smiles as the thinking dots appear. You’re fine, just be yourself and respect his boundaries. I know you, you’re a great guy Sap you’ve got this

He’s right. About… everything. Sapnap slips his phone into his pocket right before he hears his name called. It’s not George calling out the drinks today, whoever was missing the other day now returned to their normal shift. Sapnap accepts the drink with an easy thank you and is about to walk away before he’s struck with an idea.

“Um, excuse me,” he calls to the woman who’s already started to head back to the espresso machine. She turns around and makes her way back over to the counter anyway, brows raised, anticipating Sapnap’s question.

Sapnap leans in some, unsure if he wants George to hear what he’s about to ask or not.

“Um, George,” he starts, and, oh, that’s not a good look. He presses on anyway. “When is… do you know his breaktime?”

“I do,” the woman replies, and Sapnap is ready to be pleasantly surprised, the amount of information this employee is ready to give more than expected, but then she continues, “but legally I’m not allowed to share it with you, and even if I could, I don’t think I would.”

Sapnap tries his best to swallow his disappointment. He’s not sure how he ended up so dumb with hope anyway. “Right,” he says. “Sorry for asking.”

“I suggest not doing it again,” she replies easily, but before she walks away she gives him a soft smile, “but it’s fine.”

Sapnap returns her smile, even as he feels an itch at the base of his neck, only growing as heat spreads under his skin. He’s quick to make his way back to the table, fingers wrapped tight around his frap.

He tries his best not to watch George, appearing as disinterested as he can, up until the other switches places with another employee, now going around cleaning up tables. Sapnap’s been people watching, eyes determinedly looking anywhere but at George, but that fails when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, a napkin falling to the floor, just in reach of Sapnap’s foot. Stretching the tiniest bit, Sapnap catches the napkin under his shoe, pulling it over to him so he can pick it up and throw it away himself. He almost makes a comment to George about his cleaning skills, always one to tease, no matter who it is he’s teasing, but then the napkin flops over the back of his hand and he sees ink on paper.

Mon-Th 8am-4pm break @ 10 lunch @ 12 break @ 2

Sapnap has no idea when George wrote that, if it was while he was still taking orders or if he wrote it while Sapnap kept his eyes out the window, but when he looks up, he finds the barista already watching him, now back behind the till, cheeks pink even as he holds Sapnap’s gaze. Sapnap smiles, waving the napkin in an I got it! gesture. George doesn’t smile back, just looks down at the register, then up at the customer that walks in a second later.

That’s fine. Sapnap shoves the napkin into his pocket. This is progress.

 When he’s about to leave, hand pressed against the glass door, he turns. George is looking down, but Sapnap can see the tips of his ears, the slope of his nose. Pink. Bright, pretty pink.

He smiles. Definitely progress.

;;

“So you want me to flirt with you, then?” Sapnap asks, leaning his hip against the edge of the table George sits at, the barista looking at something on his phone.

“No, not really,” George replies, not looking up from the device.

Sapnap sits in the seat across from him. “But I can flirt with you now, right?” he asks. “Since you’re not technically working right now?”

“I’m being paid for this,” George says. “It’s ten minutes. Money is going into my bank account, right now.” He finally looks up at the other, eyes wide in emphasis. “That means I’m working.”

“Boo,” Sapnap immediately snaps. “You just don’t want to admit that you want me.”

George makes a face.

“Want me flirting with you,” Sapnap clarifies, though he wouldn’t mind George wanting him. (He even hopes for that, honestly.) “You want me to flirt with you.”

“Quit making assumptions, you weirdo.”

Sapnap laughs. “You sound like my friend.”

“Oh, really?” George asks. “Maybe we’d get along then.”

“Me and you?” 

George gives him a dry look. “No, you idiot, me and your friend.”

“Well, you’re not going to meet him,” Sapnap replies.

“What, is he better looking than you?” George asks. “Wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Hey!” Sapnap cries indignantly. “What does that mean?” George merely raises a brow. “And no , he’s not. I just… he doesn’t like coffee.”

“And that means he can’t come inside?” George asks.

“He gets, like, really nauseous if he smells it,” Sapnap explains “After I come here, I usually end up meeting him at, like, the library or something.”

“Oh, are you guys students?” At this, George sits up, leaning forward slightly over the table. Sapnap wonders if he’d be allowed to copy the other’s posture, or if it’d make George lean away. He decides not to risk it.

“I am,” he says. “My friend isn’t.”

“H’m,” George says.

“Yeah,” Sapnap replies. “H’m.”

He smiles at the smile that spreads on George’s lips, even as the other looks away, tucking his chin into his collar in an attempt to hide it further. “Stop it,” George says, muffled as he speaks into fabric. “Stop that.”

“I’m just looking at you,” Sapnap replies.

George glances at him from the corner of his eye. “I know,” he says. “Stop it.”

Though he doesn’t want to, he does. “So are you a student too?” he asks.

“Alum,” he replies. “Graduated last year.”

“Ooh,” Sapnap says. “Teach me all that you know.”

“You don’t even know what I majored in,” George replies. “What if we took, like, completely different classes?”

“Unimportant,” Sapnap says. “I was just trying to find an excuse to spend more time with you.”

“I—,” George is cut off by a persistent beeping. The two look down at the phone on the table. “Oh,” George turns off the timer. “Back to work.”

“I thought you said you’re still technically working?” Sapnap asks, knowing the grin he’s wearing is infuriating.

George’s eyes narrow as he looks at Sapnap before he shakes his head. “You’re so annoying.”

“You’re the one who talked to me for ten minutes,” Sapnap replies easily.

George doesn’t reply, instead just shaking his head once more, heading back to the counter, where he grabs his apron and goes to tie it around his (oh God, small) waist. Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut, thinking, before he gets up from his chair. The place is relatively empty for ten in the morning. “It’s compsci,” he says as George finally comes to stand at the register. “I’m a compsci major.” George looks up at him from across the room, startled. “In case you were, you know, actually wondering.” He can feel his confidence drain out of him the longer the other continues to stare blankly at him. “Um, yeah.” He lifts a hand to wave goodbye, and he’s about to walk out when George replies:

“Wait, Sapnap,” he turns around to see George watching him, fingers gripping the edge of the counter, “if you actually do want help ever, uh, I can do that. For you.”

Sapnap wants to reply, wants to say thank you or maybe even you, me, library tomorrow at six?, but instead he stays silent, and the moment passes, George inserting something into the computer, Sapnap clearly dismissed.

;;

“I fucked up,” he says immediately to Dream, sinking into his seat at the small diner on the corner of Mulberry and 11th, convenient for its equidistance from his dorm and Dream’s apartment.

“You really could’ve gotten a date, and instead you just stood there,” Dream says, a vague echo of Sapnap’s retelling.

“You’re making fun of me right now,” Sapnap whines.

“No,” Dream says. Sapnap looks up at him from between his fingers. The corner of Dream’s mouth twitches. “Maybe.”

Sapnap groans, pushing his face further into his hands.

“No, no, it’s not that bad,” Dream tries. “Come on, man, no moping at Sally’s. You’re literally eating cheesecake pancakes right now. You can’t mope.”

“I’m not moping,” Sapnap immediately replies. “I’m mourning.” He pulls his hands away from his face, instead pressing the tips of his fingers to his temples. “Mourning the relationship that never was.”

“Is this what you’re like when you actually have to work for a relationship?” Dream asks. He steals a strawberry off of Sapnap’s plate. “I don’t know if I like this dude.”

“George?” Sapnap asks.

“No,” Dream says, stealing another strawberry, “you.”

“Considering you’re still here, I think you like him well enough.” Sapnap lifts a brow as Dream goes to sneak another strawberry, blocking the other’s fork with his own. Metal clinks against metal.  Dream accepts defeat, going back to his waffles.

“We all have our ups and downs,” Dream finally declares. “That was a bad day—”

“But it was going so well!”

“Okay, then things got thrown off with the alarm—”

“Timer.”

“—going off,” Dream eats another bite of waffles, “so basically: don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it,” Sapnap says, just to be contradictory.

Dream knows what he’s doing, so instead of replying, he just finishes off the first of his waffles. Sapnap glares down at his own meal before spearing a piece of pancake.

“I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” Dream says.

Shit.

;;

He resigns himself to waiting until Monday to see George again, only to find himself stopping short when walking to his dorm from the library, spotting a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches that line the commons.

“George?” he calls, before he can decide if interacting outside of the four walls of the Starbucks they’re so used to is a good idea.

George looks up, slipping his phone in his pocket, eyes obviously wide even when hidden behind a pair of—

“Are those clout goggles?” Sapnap asks, biting back a laugh.

George crosses his arms, stretching his legs out (though they don’t reach particularly far, Sapnap affectionately notes) and leaning back on the bench. “Maybe,” he replies.

Sapnap stops holding back his laughter, letting it spill out freely as George’s face goes through a range of expressions, from a frown to a smile to a grimace to something of a cross between all three.

“If you’re done,” he says when Sapnap’s laughter has turned more into sporadic giggles.

“I’m sorry,” Sapnap immediately replies, though it’s clear the words mean nothing. He’s certain if he could see George’s eyes clearly through his lenses, the other would be rolling them. “It’s cute,” he almost says, but something stops him, the words turning into, “It’s fine. They suit you.”

One of George’s hands comes up to adjust the glasses, the twist of his lips finally turning into a smile. “Really?” he asks, hand pulling away from the frames to instead rest his fingers lightly against the plastic, but Sapnap isn’t paying attention to the glasses at all, eyes instead locked on the delicate bones of George’s wrist.

“Yeah,” he says anyway. George’s hand falls back to his lap. “So,” Sapnap says, now that the immediate distraction is gone, coming back into himself, “what are you doing here? Don’t tell me you were wanting to see my face again.”

“Um.” George looks away, at a tree that Sapnap knows is behind him, at the ground, the railing of the bench, at an acorn that lay a few feet away. Sapnap tries not to let the hope grow in him, even though the silence only continues to stretch on.

The hope finally breaks loose, and he asks it: “Did you really come here just to see me?”

“Not… entirely,” George replies. Sapnap gives him a disbelieving look, and George is quick to defend himself. “No, really!” he says. “I live in the area, and this… it’s nice, isn’t it?” He motions to the commons. “It’s, like, cool outside now, and the sun isn’t, like, really hot or anything. It’s nice.”

“But you said ‘not entirely,’” Sapnap says, “so that means I was part of the reason?”

“I didn’t expect to see you,” George sighs. “But if—if—I did see you, I wouldn’t be opposed to, like, hanging out or, um, something.”

“Okay,” Sapnap says easily, taking a seat on the bench next to him. Now that he’s beside George, he can see his eyes better underneath his glasses, and he doesn’t even try to hide the way he stares. “So what do you want to do?”

George gives a noncommittal shrug. 

Sapnap sighs. They sit in a tense silence, Sapnap itching to say something, George… Sapnap isn’t sure what he’s thinking. Although they’re sitting side by side, sometimes their shoes would brush against each other, edge of sole against edge of sole, and George would jump like he’s been shocked, bringing Sapnap’s eyes back to him every time. Finally, Sapnap gives another sigh and says, “I spy… with my little eye… something… blue.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees George tense. And then.

“The sky?”

“Nope!” Sapnap answers, popping the ‘p’. “Try again.”

George hums quietly, head moving the tiniest bit as he surveys the area. “There,” he says, pointing, “those flowers.”

“Got it,” Sapnap smiles, “your turn.”

George looks around, a single finger tapping on his jean-clad thigh. Sapnap refuses to follow the movement. “I spy,” George begins, “with my little eye something that starts with P.”

Sapnap looks around, searching for whatever George could have chosen. Then a bark rings through the air, and his head snaps around to look at the dog darting across the commons to get to a girl kneeled in the grass. “That puppy,” Sapnap replies, smug.

“Yup.” George nods, glancing over at Sapnap as he picks out something.

“I spy with my little eye,” he starts, angling himself more towards George, “something green.”

George falters. “Grass?” he tries, a slight smile on his face.

Sapnap laughs. “No,” and then out of a rush of courage he’s not sure from where, he reaches up to pluck the leaf out of George’s hair, holding it up between the two of them.

George scoffs. “That’s not even fair. I can’t see that. And was that in my hair this entire time?”

Sapnap shakes his head, flicking it away from them, the leaf dancing idly in the air before twirling to the ground. “Nah. It must have happened sometime last round.”

“Ah.” George finally takes off his sunglasses, pushing them up onto the top of his head. “Well, still not fair. I can’t even see green.”

“What?” Sapnap doesn’t mean for it to come out as a laugh, but it does. “What do you mean you can’t see green?”

“I’m colorblind, asshole,” George doesn’t shove him, but his hand does lift and make a weak motion towards him. “When you started with a color, I figured this wouldn’t last long.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, then?” Sapnap asks, hand coming down on the bench next to him so he can lean towards George.

“You said blue; it was fine,” George replies. “Besides,” he gives a shrug, “I just said the letter the word starts with. If I did it every time, maybe you would too.”

“Weird,” Sapnap says, the word coming out on a whistle.

“Not as weird as you,” George easily fires back.

Sapnap rolls his eyes but doesn’t reply, settling back on the bench once more. They sit in a companionable silence for another second before he remembers.

“Hey, uh,” George looks over at him, and wow, have his eyes always been that deep, wide and round and shining like honey in the bright sun, “my friend and I, the one that doesn’t like coffee, we’re meeting up for dinner. Would you… maybe want to come? Just so you can meet him. You know. We hang out a lot. And stuff.”

George seems to consider it before he nods. “If your friend is fine with it, why not?”

Sapnap sends Dream a quick text to ask, though he knows the other will say yes. “You’re not allergic to anything, are you?” he asks, even though he and Dream were just going to meet at, like, a McDonald’s.

“Not that I know of,” George replies.

“Awesome,” Sapnap says.

“Yup,” George agrees.

And… it’s awkward again.

“Got any other plans?” he asks, just to break the silence.

“Not really,” George says. “Fridays are usually pretty uneventful.”

“No one asking you to any parties?”

At that, George gives a quiet laugh. “Not really a partying type of person.”

“Really?” Sapnap asks, eyes wide. “I never would’ve guessed.”

George looks over at him, brows high, before he realizes it was sarcasm, making him roll his eyes. “Oh my God, you’re so annoying.”

“I’m not the one who agreed to spend more time with me.” 

George doesn’t reply, but when Sapnap glances at him, he’s got a small smile on his lips, cheeks pink and not, Sapnap is pretty sure, because of the sun.

;;

Sapnap thinks he should be jealous. He’s, like, really sure he’s supposed to be jealous.

Dream and George meet and hit it off immediately, falling into an easy banter that Sapnap watches like a tennis match, a constant smile on George’s face, laughter spilling out past his lips like a waterfall. 

They get along like a house on fire or whatever the phrase is, and Sapnap is left to breathe in the smoke. Yet he’s not choking and he’s not jealous.

Because every time George says something that sends Dream into a fit of laughter, he’ll glance over at Sapnap, eyes bright and smile wide, as if to check that he has Sapnap’s attention too, that he has Sapnap laughing right along with them.

Sapnap wonders if Dream notices, if he catches these moments between them, but if he does, he never comments on it, instead continuing to talk to George like they’ve known each other for thirty years and not thirty minutes.

By the time they finish their food, George and Dream have exchanged numbers and are planning another time to hang out.

“It sucks about the coffee thing,” George says to Dream, head tilted back so they can make eye contact. It’s endearing, but Sapnap does feel a slight pain in his chest when he realizes their one inch difference in height means he doesn’t get the same experience. 

“Yeah,” Dream agrees, “honestly it’s just, like, really inconvenient because I don’t like coffee in the first place, but you’re telling me I can’t even be near it?” George gives a sympathetic smile, and Dream backtracks. “If you ever want, I’m sure I can stomach it for, like, a minute or two, but—”

“It’s fine,” George cuts him off. “I can meet you wherever you want. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Dream asks, looking apologetic.

“It’s fine,” George repeats. “So next Tuesday? When I get off work?”

“Yeah,” Dream confirms. “I’ll let you know if something comes up.”

“Same here.” George gives him a smile. “It’ll be fun kicking your ass.”

“Oh, right, like you’re going to win,” Dream scoffs. “Right.”

“You’ll see,” George crosses his arms, “just wait.”

“Whatever.” Dream gives a laugh before shouldering his backpack. “Alright,” he says to both George and Sapnap this time. “I’m going to head out. Patches is probably wondering why she hasn’t been fed yet.”

George laughs as Sapnap lifts his hand in an easy wave.

Dream waves back then heads out, leaving George and Sapnap alone.

George turns to Sapnap.

“So,” Sapnap says, “what’d you think?”

“He’s nice,” George replies, and then, “thanks for, uh, inviting me.”

“Of course, dude,” Sapnap says because what else do you call the guy you like, other than dude? He blinks. “Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

George gives a hesitant smile. “Maybe.”

“You’re not, like, intruding on anything,” Sapnap immediately goes to reassure. “We do this, like, all the time. It’s really not a big deal.”

“I didn’t think I was.” George collects his trash, “but thanks for putting the idea in my head.”

“No. You don’t get to do that.” Sapnap follows his lead as they throw out the wrappers from the burgers. “Anyway,” he opens the door for George, who ducks his head in silent thanks, before following after him, “what about me?”

“What about you?” George asks.

“Your number,” Sapnap answers, “I want it.”

“You think I give it out just like that?” George’s brows are raised in disbelief as Sapnap scoffs.

“You did it for Dream, and he didn’t even ask!”

“Okay, and?”

“You’re so mean to me, George,” Sapnap whines, crossing his arms. “See if I ever talk to you again.”

“Oh because that’s just the worst possible outcome for me,” George laughs.

“What the hell?” Sapnap uncrosses his arms to instead fling them out at his sides. “I thought we had fun today! We played I spy!”

“Yes,” George says, “because that is the exact definition of fun.”

“Well,” Sapnap crosses his arms again, “ I had fun. Sorry that you didn’t.”

In his performance, he had closed his eyes, but when he opens them again, his heart is quick to skip a beat upon seeing the soft smile on George’s face as he looks at him. His eyes are no longer turned to gold by the sun, but instead are dark like the coffee he serves, and Sapnap only finds himself looking away from them to instead drop his gaze to the other’s lips. They’re a soft pink, and they’re full, and Sapnap finds himself wondering what they’d feel like on his own.

“It’s,” and then a slew of numbers that Sapnap doesn’t catch. He finally meets George’s eyes again.

“What was it?” he asks, pulling out his phone. George rolls his eyes, giving a quiet laugh, before repeating his numbers as Sapnap rushes to add him to his contacts. When he’s done, he sends a quick text to George (Hiiii :D) to which George doesn’t answer but does make a show of blocking the number (then immediately unblocking it).

“Anyway,” Sapnap shoves his hands in his pockets, Dream’s advice be damned, and gives a slight whistle, “walk you home?”

George shifts his weight, readjusting his jacket, before nodding. “Alright.”

Sapnap smiles. George starts walking.

;;

George’s apartment is nice. Not too far from the Starbucks he works at (not too far from Sapnap’s dorm) and it’s in a quieter part of the city. The two of them stand in silence on the front step.

“So,” George says.

“So,” Sapnap agrees.

A second. Two seconds.

George makes a small noise that has Sapnap ready to ask if he’s alright when George’s hand suddenly smacks against his cheek. Sapnap immediately reaches up to cradle the reddening skin. “Did you just slap me?” He thinks the slight crack in his voice is warranted.

George’s eyes are wide as he shakes his head. “No. Oh my God. I wasn’t… it was a,” and then he makes a motion, like he’s pressing a kiss to his fingers, then lifting them as if he were to press that kiss to—

“You couldn’t have just kissed me like a normal person?” Sapnap is trying not to sound accusatory or angry because he’s not, but what the hell.

“It’s—I didn’t—look, fuck, I’m sorry.” George wraps his fingers around Sapnap’s arm to tug his hand away from his cheek. “Here, look, shit, I—,” and then he’s got his lips on Sapnap’s cheek and any pain Sapnap’s feeling is gone. George’s lips are warm against his skin, and when he pulls away, his eyes are still shut, fluttering open only once he’s back within his own space. Sapnap stares at him with wide eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal,” George says.

“It was kind of cute,” Sapnap tries, heart pounding in his chest. “But only kind of.”

“Whatever,” George says, “I’ll see you Monday, Sapnap.”

“Will you kiss me then too?” Sapnap asks.

George shakes his head, shoving past Sapnap to get to his front door, pulling out his key and unlocking it. “Goodnight, Sapnap,” he says.

“Goodnight, George,” Sapnap replies.

George turns around, looking at him from right inside the door. Sapnap stares back. George opens his mouth, as if he plans to say something, but only ends up closing it again, shaking his head and turning to go further inside, shutting the door behind him.

Sapnap stands there on the front step for another second before shaking his head, the ghost of a response to whatever George left unsaid, deciding to take the long way home.

;;

Monday comes quickly, and after class Sapnap finds himself making his way to Starbucks, just in time for George’s lunch break. He wonders if thirty minutes is enough for him to take George somewhere, nothing fancy, just something quick, but then he’s inside and George is sitting at a table on the far wall, lunchbox open in front of him.

“Boo,” Sapnap says, sliding into the seat across from him, “I was going to ask if you wanted to get lunch with me.”

“I’m good, thanks,” George says.

“I can see that.”

He watches as George peels away layers of cling wrap around his sandwich.

“So how was class?” George asks, right before he takes a bite.

“Ugh,” Sapnap crosses his arms and rests his head atop them, closing his eyes, “I don’t know why I do it sometimes.”

“What, go to school?” Based on what he hears, Sapnap assumes George has peeled away more cling wrap.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Deep down you enjoy it,” George says, “and it’s for your future.”

“You went to school,” Sapnap starts, “and now you work at Starbucks.”

“I hate you.”

“That’s not what you said on Friday.”

“I didn’t say anything Friday,” George says.

“You’re right,” Sapnap sits back up, “you didn’t say anything because you were too busy kissing me.”

“Yeah because a kiss on the cheek totally equals making out on the couch,” George snorts as he takes another bite of his sandwich. “Right.”

Sapnap grins. “Duh.” When George just rolls his eyes and opens a bag of chips, Sapnap is quick to steal one. “Anyway, we have a quiz Friday that I am not looking forward to.”

“I don’t think anyone looks forward to quizzes,” George slaps his hand away when it swoops in for another chip, “are you ready for it?”

“Define ‘ready,’” Sapnap replies. At George’s unimpressed look, Sapnap shrugs. “I mean, as ready as I can be.”

“That’s better than ‘not at all,’” George sighs. “Tell me how it goes?”

“Obviously.” Sapnap smiles when George allows him another chip. “So what about you? How’s your morning gone?”

“It’s gone,” George says. And then he pauses. “I got a girl’s number.”

“Oh,” Sapnap says, because that’s all he can think to say.

“She, like, wrote it on the receipt, I guess when Sarah was talking to me, and when she left, she just… left it on the counter.” Sarah, as it turns out, is the woman who told Sapnap she’s not allowed to disclose George’s break times. Sapnap still feels prickles of irritation under his skin as George continues: “I threw it out.”

The prickles suddenly stop.

“You threw it out?”

George nods, nonchalant, popping another chip in his mouth and even offering the rest in the bag to Sapnap with a raised brow. Sapnap just shakes his head, ears still ringing from George’s words.

“Why?” he asks.

“Not interested,” George says, finishing off his chips. “Besides,” he says, getting up to toss the bag in the trash, “no flirting while I’m at work.” Sapnap hands him the cling wrap sitting on the table. George smiles as he grabs his lunchbox. “See you later, Sapnap.”

“What if I wanted to order something?” Sapnap calls as George gets himself situated behind the counter.

“You drink too much sugar,” George replies, putting on his customer service face as a middle-aged man walks in. “Welcome to Starbucks, would you…,” Sapnap lets the rest of the greeting fade into background noise as he watches George’s mouth move, his fingers dancing across the computer as the man places his order. After another second, he gives a stretch, then rises, giving George a smile and a wave as he heads out the door.

He comes back that afternoon only to be greeted by George’s furrowed brows and a cold drink shoved into his hands. “On the house,” George tells him as Sapnap stares down at the vanilla frap, the condensation that had gathered on the cup wetting his hands.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” George replies, pushing through the glass doors and holding one open for Sapnap. “So where to?”

Sapnap thinks. He hadn’t really thought of anything for them to do, mostly just wanting to see George again. Then he remembers neon lights and crummy carpet with space patterns on it, rockets and stars and moons. With the next step he takes, he moves the tiniest fraction closer to George. The backs of their hands brush together. Sapnap lets this happen a couple more times, and then—he takes George’s hand.

George just holds on tight.

Sapnap smiles. “I have somewhere.”

;;

They hold hands the entire way, and Sapnap tries not to let it get to him. George’s fingers are thinner than his, and not long after he had started to lead them in the direction of the arcade did George’s fingers slot their way between his. His palm is warm, pressed flat against Sapnap’s own, and every once in awhile Sapnap will say something that makes George laugh and his hand will come up as if to cover his mouth, the action aborted halfway to its destination when Sapnap’s arm goes taut, George letting their hands fall back between them. He still looks over at Sapnap though, eyes glittering, squinted, cheeks rosy.

It’s maybe the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen.

;;

Correction. George smiling (still, because George always looks nice smiling) colored by the neon lights is the most beautiful thing Sapnap has ever seen. He’s almost tempted to take a picture of just George, just for him to have, him to cherish, but he knows George will hate it, George will watch him like a hawk over his shoulder as he deletes it, not letting up until he deletes it, and the effort isn’t worth it. Seeing George so displeased isn’t worth it.

So instead he crowds into George’s space, demanding a selfie, “to send to Dream! To make him jealous!”

Like that’s anywhere close to the truth. But he does send the selfie to Dream, who does reply with a >:(, and Sapnap laughs and shows George, who laughs then wanders over to the skee ball, and then that’s when Sapnap goes and changes the picture to his homescreen (because a lockscreen is too risky, because he knows George will definitely see it).

He lets George win at skee ball. And air hockey. And… this game isn’t even competitive, what the hell, but he lets George win at that too. (And okay, maybe sometimes George wins because he’s better, but it’s not like Sapnap would ever admit to that.)

When they leave, George is still giggly, fingers intertwined with Sapnap’s once again, but less passive, more with a purpose, more I’m holding your hand because I really want to hold your hand, because I like how your fingers feel between mine, because I like the way our skin touches, you’re here and so am I. It’s so deliberate, and Sapnap is dizzy from it.

They get dinner at a seedy, shitty pizza place, though the pizza is anything but, and then it’s back to Sapnap walking George home.

“You really don’t have to,” George says. “Your dorm is, like, right there,” he makes a general motion to the upcoming intersection.

“But I want to,” Sapnap says.

George sighs, but doesn’t say anything, even as they walk past the entrance of the university.

When they reach his apartment, Sapnap fakes nonchalance. “So,” he says, “are you going to make it a big deal?”

George crosses his arms.

Sapnap puts up his hands in front of him. “Just a question.” He smiles. “So are you?”

“You’re so annoying,” and then warm lips are on his cheek as fingers tangle into his shirt. “I hate you,” George says when he leans back. Sapnap looks down at where George still has a grip on his shirt, but when he meets George’s eyes again, the other doesn’t let go. Sapnap wants to take his face in his hands and press a kiss to his lips right then and there.

George’s gaze dropping down—to his lips, there’s no doubt about it, George is looking at his lips—is almost enough to make him do so.

But that would scare George away. He knows it would. So he leans back on his heels, smile on his lips. “Hate you too.” The soft lilt of his voice belies his words. He doesn’t mind. 

George’s eyes flit back up to Sapnap’s. Sapnap’s smile widens. George drops his hand from Sapnap’s shirt. “Thank you for today,” George finally says. “I had fun.”

“Me too,” Sapnap reaches out, taking George’s hand in his own, finding that he quite missed the other’s touch, even if it’d only been a few seconds. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” George agrees, “we will.”

They stand there in silence, Sapnap holding George’s hand. George clears his throat.

“Well,” he says, “goodnight, Sapnap.”

Sapnap gives the other’s hand a squeeze. “Goodnight, George.” He drops George’s hand, their fingers dragging together until they’re not.

When their fingers finally part, George takes a breath then turns to unlock his door and head inside. Right before he shuts the door, Sapnap is treated to the sight of an eye turned liquid gold from the streetlights, a rich, amber color that leaves Sapnap tasting coffee and honey. “Goodnight, George,” he says one last time, and then, the door shuts and it’s just Sapnap out in the cold. He gives a smile to the closed door, then turns and starts the walk to his dorm.

;;

Sapnap ends up with what feels like fifty new assignments on Tuesday, and he knows Dream and George are meeting up after George’s shift ends, so he decides to forgo his usual trip to Starbucks and instead heads back to his dorm after shooting George a quick Have fun with dream :) text. 

When he reaches his room, his phone chimes in his pocket.

thanks, i’m gonna kick his ass

Sapnap huffs out a laugh before unlocking the door and heading inside, dropping his backpack onto the floor next to his desk then collapsing into his chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes before replying to the text.

Of course u will <3

Immediately, he gets a text back, and he thinks more about that than what the text actually says (gross, don’t ever send me a <3 ever again).

Just to be antagonistic, Sapnap grins and sends: Good luck baby xoxo mwah mwah mwah <3

Another instant reply: you’re so disgusting. talk to you later sapnap

Sapnap’s grin stays as he sets his phone down and pulls out the assignment he’s decided to tackle first. Sure, George may be annoyed by every text he sends, but he’s still replying right away, still replying at all—he totally doesn’t mean it. George totally loves texting him, he’s sure of it. Sapnap gets out his laptop and goes to Blackboard as he thinks about George on Monday, the way he’d sometimes lean into Sapnap, the clean scent of his laundry detergent settling into Sapnap’s heart and the occasional press of his cheek against Sapnap’s leaving a permanent warmth under his skin.

He goes through his assignments in a daze, Java getting mixed with java and graphs getting interrupted by George. Only the sound of his phone going off—a call from Dream—breaks him out of it, little numbers and letters dancing behind his eyes as he blinks and answers the phone.

“Yeah?”

“George and I are getting something to eat, do you want us to bring anything to your dorm?”

“You don’t have to,” Sapnap replies, even as his stomach rumbles and roars at him to eat.

“You’re right,” Dream agrees, “but I’m not doing this for myself.”

Sapnap blinks. “George,” he says, and Dream gives a quiet hum. “Where’re you guys getting food from?”

“Taco Bell, maybe,” Dream replies. “There’s one on the way to your dorm.”

“Across the street, yeah,” Sapnap agrees. “Then can I get a Cheesy Gordita Crunch with two soft chicken tacos, a steak quesadilla, cinnamon twists, and a Baja Blast?”

Dream repeats it back to him with an, “alright,” at the end, and Sapnap tells him he’ll pay him back when they get to his dorm. “Sounds good,” Dream replies. “See you in a bit.”

“See you,” Sapnap agrees, then the call disconnects, and Sapnap is left in a messy as hell room with George on his way. “Shit,” Sapnap says, looking at the weeks-old laundry spilling out of his wardrobe and the assortment of half-drunk Gatorades and water bottles littering the shelf above his desk. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He grabs his trash can from where it sits at the foot of the bed, lifting it to the edge of the shelf and just pushing all the bottles into it, some of them falling past the edge and hitting the floor. He groans as he bends over to grab them and put them into the trash properly. When that’s done, he knows he’s not going to be able to run a full two and some loads of laundry before Dream and George get to his dorm, so he deems the laundry a lost cause and shoves it as best he can back into the wardrobe, his hamper buried under weeks of unwashed clothes. Oh well. At least his room doesn’t smell.

Sapnap freezes. Does it?

He shakes his head. No. It doesn’t. It’s fine. Besides, his room isn’t that bad. And George is a guy; he probably lived in the dorms, he knows the horrors of a bunch of dudes crowded in one building. It’s fine.

A knock on the door makes him look up from where he’d been staring a hole into his bedsheets, wondering if remaking his bed (he had put it together haphazardly that morning, more for a sense of productivity than any need for cleanliness, the sheets wrinkled and pillows slouched awkwardly) would be worth it. He supposes the interruption is answer enough. Leaving the bed as is, he unlocks the door, swinging it open to see George standing there holding three paper bags, two drinks under his left arm.

“Hi,” Sapnap says.

“Hi,” George replies, angling himself to allow Sapnap to take a bag from him. “These drinks are really cold.”

“Here,” Sapnap grabs the green one, immediately lifting it to his lips and taking a sip. “Almost as refreshing as seeing you.”

George stares at him before making his way into Sapnap’s room, setting the two bags down then taking out a napkin and setting his drink on it. “You’re not funny.”

“You’re right,” Sapnap agrees, making George’s eyes widen as he looks over at him. “I’m hilarious.”

George’s parted lips fall into an unamused line. He scoffs, turning back to the bags and pulling out various Taco Bell items. “Here,” he says, handing Sapnap his quesadilla and cinnamon twists, “they threw some of our things in the same bag. Everything in the one you’re holding is yours, though.”

“Nice.” Sapnap sets down the bag to take the food, immediately getting started on his quesadilla.

“And Dream was going to come, but then he got a call from someone and said he had to go. He might’ve taken the hot sauce…?” He looks over at Sapnap with a raised brow, who glances into his bag.

“Nah. There’s sauce in here.”

“Cool,” George replies. “But yeah, it’s… it’s just us now, I guess.”

Sapnap glances over at him. George is staring down into his bag, fingers crumpling the paper. When George turns to look at him, Sapnap doesn’t turn away. George holds his gaze for a second before his ears turn a warm pink, and he ducks his head, reaching into his bag to pull out a Quesarito. 

“Uh,” Sapnap says, and then reaches across George to grab his wallet from the desk and pull out a ten. “For the food.” He holds it out to George.

George takes it, their fingers brushing and Sapnap’s pulse sent racing. 

“Thanks,” George says, “but Dream paid.”

Sapnap plucks the cash from George’s fingers. “Never mind then.”

George laughs, “rude,” before unwrapping his Quesarito and taking a bite. “So how are your classes going?”

Sapnap groans making a motion to the stack of assignments half-covered by an empty Taco Bell bag. “Terribly. I’m doing… fine. It’s just… so much work.”

“The worst,” George agrees, taking another bite. “Studying for the quiz?”

“What are you, my dad?” Sapnap asks, but at an unimpressed look from George, he sighs and leans back against his bed. “Yes.”

“Good,” George says, and then he says, “I kicked Dream’s ass by the way.”

“Like I said you would,” Sapnap replies, and when George looks at him from under dark lashes, he thinks about how easy it would be to lean forward and press a kiss to the space between his brows, the tip of his nose, Sapnap hesitates for the shortest second before his gaze drops lower—it’d be so easy to lean forward and press a kiss to George’s lips. When he meets George’s eyes again, they’re dark, and in the faint light, Sapnap can see his pupils blown wide. He swallows. George watches the movement.

Sapnap takes a breath. “I—”

And then George is on him, their mouths pressed hot against each other. Sapnap moves back, resting on the bed, as he tilts his head, angles it so that he can kiss George properly. It’s once he does this, once he brings a hand up to hold the back of George’s head, that George pulls away with a small breath. “This was a—”

“If you say ‘bad idea,’ you owe me ten bucks,” Sapnap says before he can finish.

George, flushed, glances up at him and huffs a small laugh. “Lapse in better judgement, then.”

“No take-backs,” Sapnap says, his left hand, which had settled on the curve of George’s hip, sliding up to hold the nape of George’s neck. “Okay?”

George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels it warm against his lips, a phantom of their kiss. “Okay.”

Sapnap smiles. “Good. So what’s wrong?” He wouldn’t normally talk it out, the other party throwing out their worries and Sapnap immediately going back in for the kill, lips on theirs and them preferably in the bed by now, but it’s okay if it’s George—if this takes longer than it normally would, that’s okay, and—George gives him a hesitant smile back—if the end result is more than a tumble in the sheets, that’s even better. (Not that that was ever the desired result, but for a time, Sapnap could’ve been content with just that. Not anymore, though. Not now.)

“I’ve never dated anyone,” George admits, “not seriously.”

“Like, you’re some type of player or…?” Sapnap lifts a brow as George sends him a look. He drops his hand to pull himself back and up onto his bed then pats the space next to him in a silent offering to George. George looks from his hand to his face then back a couple times before sighing and climbing onto the bed next to him. When George places his hands down at his side, his and Sapnap’s pinkies brush together. George takes another breath.

“I mean, I dated a girl in high school, if you could call it that,” George says. “More like I knew she had a crush on me and was doing what I was supposed to.” He makes a face and Sapnap wonders if it would be bad of him to curl their pinkies together, to take even more than that. Good or bad, he leaves his hands as they are, letting George continue. “It didn’t mean anything, and it was a high school relationship. Those are hardly legitimate.” He gives a slight eye roll. “So yeah, this is… kind of new to me.”

“That’s okay,” Sapnap says immediately. “I’ve never had a real relationship either.” 

It’s not the consolation Sapnap had planned for it to be. Sapnap wouldn’t say he sleeps around, or slept around, he’s not some kind of manwhore or anything, but the fact still stands that he’s definitely had more than one partner and most of those relationships did reach at least third base before he even hit the ball. That, in contrast to George’s high school hand-holding, is definitely a strike against him.

Sapnap shakes his head, dissipating the baseball metaphors beginning to sprawl in his mind. “But it’s something I want with you,” he amends. “I really like you, George. Like… I really like you.” He’s not sure if the second thing is what does it for George, but either way, he still takes Sapnap’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and resting their connected hands in his lap. Sapnap leans over just enough to have their shoulders touching.

“You really do annoy me sometimes, you know?” George asks, thumb rubbing smooth circles into Sapnap’s skin. “It’s like you go out of your way to do it, too. You can’t just… dial it back a bit. It’s really all or nothing with you.”

“I’m not known for doing things in halves, yeah,” Sapnap agrees.

George glances at him from the corner of his eyes. “Except for relationships,” he says. His voice is rough.

The smile that had started to grow on Sapnap’s face drops. “Yeah. Except for those.”

“I really like you too,” George finally admits, “and if you’re willing to try,” he squeezes Sapnap’s hand then looks over and meets his eyes, “I am too.”

;;

The soft atmosphere had broken not long after that, Sapnap’s stomach rumbling and George bursting into lilted giggles, nerves and hesitance coloring his every move after that. But when Sapnap offered to walk him home, George agreed, and they held hands the entire way, and when they reached George’s door, George scrunched his face up then grabbed Sapnap by the front of his jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss.

“For someone who’s never been in an actual relationship,” Sapnap had said, “your kisses are pretty hot.”

“Thanks,” George had said and then slammed the door in Sapnap’s face.

Sapnap didn’t mind, though; nah, he grinned the entire way home.

;;

The rest of the week flies by in a vanilla frap-flavored, headache-filled haze. George is certain the headaches are from all the sugar Sapnap intakes, but Sapnap is certain it’s from all the homework his professors assign and studying George pushes him to do.

“It’s not as if you wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t in the picture,” George tells him as he wipes down the table next to Sapnap’s. Sapnap has a lab report open on his laptop, his notes spread all out on the table before him. Half of the keyboard is covered by the paper, rendered unusable. 

Sapnap doesn’t have a good argument for that, but he also wants to keep George nearby. He leans back in his chair. “I’d have a headache with no remedy,” he says.

“Remedy, huh?” George asks, standing straight and arching a brow.

“Seeing your face is the only medicine I need,” Sapnap says, and then he throws in a, “pretty boy,” just because he wants to see what it’ll make George do.

Apparently, it makes his expression fall off his face and heat rise in its place, cheeks and ears glowing a bright pink even as he stutters out irritated (and empty) phrases, eventually giving the table a final furious once-over then disappearing into the kitchen to get rid of the dirtied rag. So basically, the words did the opposite of what he wanted, but in the end, Sapnap finds himself unable to consider it anything other than a win, mind now running through other opportunities to pull out the pet names.

George appears only when he’s about to leave, sending him off with a kiss on the cheek that’s really more an accidental brushing of lips against skin, but it’s enough for Sapnap, and he leaves the other with a smile and a promise to tell him how the quiz goes at dinner.

;;

Come dinner, Sapnap is halfway through explaining how he’s pretty sure he failed the quiz when George sits up in his seat and asks, “Is this a date?”

Sapnap freezes, mouth open and mid-word. “Do you want it to be a date?”

George huffs. “This isn’t really the wining and dining I expected, but—”

“I’m nineteen,” Sapnap tells him.

George sighs. “It was just an expression,” he says. “And I was going to say it’s fine. Everything here leaves something to be desired, but it’s fine.”

“Everything?” Sapnap asks, eyes widening coyly as he looks at the other.

“Everything,” George confirms. “Especially my date.”

Sapnap exaggerates a sad face and George rolls his eyes, throwing a fry at him, but he’s got a smile on his face, so Sapnap drops the act and grins back. “You’re so cute,” he tells the other, and George immediately seems to grow smaller, shoulders curving inwards, face angled down, his smile facing the floor instead of Sapnap, who observes this all with a quiet gaze.

“Shut up,” George says, the words on the end of a laugh.

“It’s true,” Sapnap replies. “I love looking at you. Even when you look dumb.”

“Excuse you,” George immediately snaps, finally looking back at Sapnap, “I never look dumb.”

“Oh,” Sapnap says, “you’re right. I meant when you look stupid.”

“What the hell?” George guffaws. “You’re actually so annoying. Shut up.”

“So you want me to shut up when I compliment you, and you want me to shut up when I insult you—what’s the truth?”

George looks at him, unimpressed. “The only conclusion is that I like you best when you say nothing at all.”

Sapnap scoffs. “Rude.”

“And yet.” George lifts a brow.

Sapnap gives a quiet exhale. “And yet,” he agrees.

;;

Dream stretches his legs out in front of him while Sapnap twists himself around to lean against Dream, back pressed against shoulder.

“How’s it going with George?” Dream asks, flicking through the channels on the TV, Sapnap watching the short frames he gets while taking nothing in.

“I think we’re a thing,” Sapnap replies, settling even further into Dream when he finally decides on a channel. It’s an old comedy from the 80’s, one Sapnap thinks his dad might’ve shown him when he was younger. Vaguely, he recalls falling asleep halfway through. He’ll try not to do that this time.

He feels Dream shift as he looks down at the younger. Sapnap can sense his eyes on the top of his head. “You think?” Dream asks, the words coming out slowly, as if he’s tasting every letter.

“We kissed,” Sapnap explains, “and we both talked about how we feel, and we went on a date, and he’s kissed me again since that first one. On the lips,” he adds hastily, just so Dream understands the severity of the situation.

“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Dream concludes.

“But no one’s said ‘boyfriend’ yet,” Sapnap confirms.

Dream hums as a fanfare starts up in the movie. Sapnap takes a handful of popcorn from the bag on the coffee table in front of them.

“I think we’re taking it slow,” Sapnap continues. “Neither of us are good at relationships.”

“What do you mean?” Dream turns slightly, and Sapnap slips down his arm some. “You’re not good at relationships?”

“You know how it was,” Sapnap answers, “is.”

“Is it really that bad?”

Sapnap shrugs, scooting back up against Dream as he does so. “I’d think so. Someone like George would think so.”

“Where does that leave me?” Dream asks.

Sapnap doesn’t answer, eyes back on the TV screen. Dream huffs, but doesn’t push for one either. 

“It’s fine,” he finally says. “Whatever works best for you guys.”

Sapnap nods, and they don’t talk about George or Sapnap and George or relationships for the rest of the movie.

;;

This is new. Sapnap’s heart pounds heavy in his chest as George sits perched on his lap, hands flying across Sapnap’s keyboard as he types a command into the chatbox. Dream’s voice crackles through his speakers: “George! What the hell?”

“Oops,” George says, glancing back to share a conspiratorial look with Sapnap, “I didn’t mean to.”

“Yes, you did,” Dream argues, his character finding George’s—who's really just using Sapnap’s character, but it’s whatever—and George running, even as Dream hits him over and over, beginning to take hearts. “You’re such an idiot, oh my God.”

George leans back against Sapnap’s chest, letting Dream kill him. “Fine,” he sighs, “we can do it your way. Whatever.” Sapnap smiles at the way his accent colors his words. George sends him a curious glance; Sapnap noses at the edge of his hairline in answer. George makes a small noise before leaning forward to get back into the game. Sapnap shifts, adjusting George on his lap so he can have some circulation in his thighs again. It’s not that George is heavy, no, George is fairly light, but George is bony, and for all Sapnap likes him and would in fact like to slip his hand in the other’s back pocket as they walk together, that doesn’t change the reality of George having a bony ass and it pressing into Sapnap’s lap.

When he’s got him where he wants, Sapnap curves himself over George, wrapping his arms around the other’s waist. George feels warm all over, and when Sapnap tilts his head to take in the other’s profile, he sees it as a soft pink. Though George can’t really afford a free hand when PvPing Dream, he still lifts a hand to shove Sapnap’s head away.

Sapnap huffs and hooks his chin over the other’s shoulder. And then he gets the most terrible (wonderful) idea and angles his head so his nose is pressed into George’s neck and he’s starting to run kisses across the skin there. George breathes out a titter and lifts his shoulder to try and push Sapnap away. Sapnap grins and starts to climb his lips up the slender column of George’s neck. George gives a full-on giggle at this. “Stop,” he says, hand coming up to shove at Sapnap again, the lapse giving Dream a chance to hit George with his axe. “Sapnap,” George says when his kisses turn a bit rougher.

“What are you guys—,” and then George gives another breathless laugh and Dream makes a disgusted noise. “Seriously?” he asks. “In the middle of my Minecraft PvP?”

“Sorry,” George gasps, shoving at Sapnap with an urgency now, brows knitting and lips losing their smile for a frown instead. Sapnap gives one final nip to George’s neck before relenting, letting George stand from his lap and glare down at him. It holds for another second before George turns back to the computer. “I’ll be back on in a bit, is that okay?”

Dream makes a noise of confirmation then ends the call. George turns back to Sapnap. 

“Too far?” Sapnap asks.

George scrutinizes him, eyes narrowed, before he sits back down on Sapnap’s lap, this time angled towards him. When Sapnap puts his hands on his hips, George makes a face. Sapnap drops his hands. “I know I kissed you first,” George finally says, not quite meeting Sapnap’s eyes. “So I should be okay with all this.” He finally manages to make eye contact, holding it as he speaks. “But I’m not.” He swallows. “I’m sorry.”

“You can tell me when it’s too much,” Sapnap tells him, but at George’s look, he sucks in a breath. “You did.”

“I was—I didn’t seem like I meant it,” George says. “I know. And, um, I guess I didn’t. Not really, not at first, but—”

“I still should’ve.” Sapnap lifts a hand, looking from it to George’s eyes then back. George gives a nod, and Sapnap sets his hand on George’s side, fingers resting in the spaces between George’s ribs. He feels George’s chest expand and contract with every breath he takes.

“We could,” George ducks his head, “have a sign, or a word, or something, and if one of us does it, the other stops,” he meets Sapnap’s eyes again, “would that work?”

Sapnap’s brows raise, jaw dropping slightly. “George…,” he says, “did you just suggest we employ a safeword?” 

George splutters. “No? I mean—I guess, but not like that! Just… yes or no?”

“Butterscotch,” Sapnap says.

“What?” George makes a face.

“When it’s too much,” Sapnap explains, “just say you want butterscotch.”

“It sounds like a euphemism.” The word drips distasteful from George’s tongue.

Sapnap rolls his eyes. “But that’s what makes it good !” He slides his fingers from George’s side around to his back, watching George’s face all the while. When George doesn’t stop him—physically or with butterscotch—Sapnap brings his other arm around George, holding him. “People will think we’re going to fuck or something, but actually we’re doing the opposite!”

“That or they’ll think we’re sugar addicts,” George scoffs, making Sapnap laugh.

“One of those,” Sapnap agrees. “Is that really such a bad thing?”

George looks at him, disappointment clear on his features. Sapnap smiles. George’s facade breaks; he smiles back. “It’s dumb,” he says.

“You always look dumb,” Sapnap replies. “No one will think anything.”

George sighs. Sapnap feels the movement against his chest, beneath his fingertips. “Fine,” George finally concedes. “Butterscotch.”

Sapnap smiles back then leans forward till their noses touch and their breath intermingles as George inhales then says, “If there’s ever been a better time to say the opposite of butterscotch, it’d be now.” Sapnap kisses him. George’s eyes slip shut, hands coming up to tangle slender fingers into the ends of Sapnap’s hair, and returns the kiss.

Eventually, George calls Dream again and the two of them start up their game again, George back to his perch at the edge of Sapnap’s lap, and this time Sapnap doesn’t kiss him, but George lets him run his fingers up and down his sides, and Sapnap delights in the little shivers and shudders George does every time. George and Dream end the day on a tie, the last win one of Dream’s. George’s consolation is a kiss pressed to his temple, but then George says that’s not enough and decides Dream and Sapnap owe him dinner.

“Both of us?” Sapnap asks as Dream groans on the other line.

George nods.

“Why me?” Sapnap makes the best pleading face he can. 

George is made of stone. “Friend of the enemy.”

“Boo,” Sapnap says, “hiss.”

“Hey!” Dream’s voice crackles through the speaker. George glances over at it, unamused.

“I think we should try that one place, what was it called? It’s on Main and Delaware.”

Dream makes a noise. Sapnap thinks it might be one of fear. “If it’s the place I’m thinking… that’s really expensive.”

“But you can pay for it, can’t you, Dream?” George asks. “I know you can.”

Dream doesn’t reply. All three of them know he can.

“But I wouldn’t do that to you,” George continues. “Which is why Sapnap owes me dinner too.”

Sapnap is about to whine when his brain catches onto an idea and his eyes narrow. “Is this payback for the date?”

“H’m?” The tilt of George’s head is innocent in a way only the guise of innocence can be. Sapnap’s eyes squint even more, vision practically gone. “Of course not.”

Sapnap doesn’t believe him.

;;

Despite George’s teasing earlier that week, he ends up ordering the cheapest things on the menu, though Sapnap (feeling guilty about the date thing, oops) points out other, more expensive, things for George to try.

“Sapnap,” George finally says, “it’s fine. If it bothers you that much, we can split a dessert or something.” Across the table, they meet eyes and at the contact, a small smile appears on George’s face. Sapnap’s breath catches.

Dream is seated next to George, this date of course anything but traditional, but, like at the McDonald’s, Sapnap finds he doesn’t care, their closeness completely platonic—if anything, he’s comforted by it, in a sense, his two favorite people getting along as easy as they do. Sapnap’s utterly sold on it.

He and George catch eyes again as Dream peoplewatches casually, cheek resting on his palm. Sapnap’s own palm is open on the table in front of him, bored of messing with his unused cutlery. He smiles as George eyes the hand, eyes dark and inscrutable, before a hand covers his own. Sapnap curls his fingers around the other’s. They sit in this calm silence until their server brings them their food.

Sapnap’s tempted to keep George’s hand in his as he eats, but it’s his right hand and George’s left, so he lets go, turning to his food instead. George does the same, and Sapnap thinks that’s it, but then he feels a foot brush his, and when he glances up, it’s to see George already watching him, cheeks flushed. Sapnap hooks their ankles together. George’s gaze goes back to his plate.

When it comes time for dessert, George does agree on splitting with Sapnap, Dream getting his own thing, some chocolate mousse pie, and George and Sapnap getting a crème brûlée, George eager to tap the top with his spoon when the waiter brings it out to them, steaming and pretty.

Every once in awhile, their spoons clink against each other, and they exchange quick glances, Sapnap swears his aren’t heated, but the pounding in his heart suggests otherwise—he never knows with George, whether there’s something behind them or not, his eyes dark, endless, Sapnap wonders if he’ll ever be able to properly read him. If Dream is ever uncomfortable, he never gives any indication of it.

Dream and Sapnap do pay, and George looks green and guilty after, even when Dream did everything he could to keep George from seeing the check, leaning away and even cupping a hand over the receipt to prevent curious eyes from wandering.

The three of them walk out together, Sapnap’s pockets feeling considerably lighter, but the meal worth it, and when he reaches over, George lets him clasp their hands together easily, fingers intertwining like this happens everyday. Dream walks on his other side, hands in his pockets (Sapnap stops himself from making a smart remark), eyes on the sidewalk ahead of them. The sun has long since set, and a chill has started under Sapnap’s skin, shaken only by the solid warmth of George’s hand in his. Still, when a breeze ruffles their hair, Sapnap has to suppress a shiver. 

They reach George’s apartment first, and he goes with an easy goodbye to Dream and a short hug around Sapnap’s middle. When he pulls away, he turns his head and his lips brush Sapnap’s cheek in something like a kiss. Sapnap watches him up until the door finally shuts and they hear the click of the lock. 

They’ll reach his dorm before they reach Dream’s place. When Sapnap looks over, Dream is still staring straight ahead.

“I could’ve paid it all myself,” Dream says. “You knew that.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap agrees.

“You could’ve told me to pay it all myself.” Dream turns his head, eyes on Sapnap. His gaze is sharp. “George wouldn’t have minded.”

Sapnap looks to the ground. “Yeah.”

Dream goes back to looking ahead. They walk in silence for another minute. “He’s happy,” he finally says. Sapnap’s eyes dart to the other. Dream isn’t looking back. “He really likes you.”

“I really like him,” Sapnap says.

“Monday—the other week,” Dream gives a slight laugh, “George said he really liked that, too. He had a bad day—,” Sapnap remembers the drink shoved in his hands, the dark expression on George’s face, “—and then you were there, and you were happy and happy to see him, and suddenly the bad parts of the day didn’t really matter.”

“I just want to see him smile,” Sapnap says, and then he amends the statement, “I want to see him happy. If it’s because of me, that’s even better, but really, he just…,” he shrugs, makes a noise in his throat. “I care about him.”

“So do I,” Dream says. “And I care about you. And I can tell that you guys make each other happy. And that’s all you want for each other.” He glances over, showing the other a soft smile. “And that’s all I want for you both.”

“You haven’t even known George for that long,” Sapnap says, because he’s socially incompetent or something.

“George is easy to love,” Dream replies.

Sapnap doesn’t have anything to say to that. It’s true. He is.

;;

It’s another one of Sapnap and Dream’s biweekly movie nights, but this time George is there, head resting in Sapnap’s lap, feet in Dream’s. He fits perfectly along the couch, though he’s turned on his side, blanket tugged tight over him as he watches Jurassic Park. They settled on that after some brief bickering, mostly between George and Sapnap, Dream content to watch whatever, while George wanted a comedy and Sapnap didn’t know what he wanted but it wasn’t a comedy because, “Dream and I watched a comedy last time!”

“I wasn’t here last time!” George argues. “So it shouldn’t matter!”

“But it does ,” Sapnap does not whine, though they all know the pitch in his voice makes it close to one. “We should watch something else.”

In the end, it was Dream who decided, having closed his eyes then picked a movie off the shelf randomly. Once Dream was sat back down on the couch, George had huffed and flopped over onto his side to watch it, ignoring Sapnap’s cheering but not turning away from the hand the younger had placed atop his head, fingers running through the short strands.

Now, an hour and a half later, George makes a sleepy noise, nuzzling into Sapnap’s thigh, and Sapnap’s heart clenches in his chest.

Dream had dozed off a few minutes ago, chin in his palm, and now his elbow has started to slide off the arm of the couch. Sapnap bends over, running his nose along the curve of George’s ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hey,” he whispers. “Want to call it a night?”

George turns his head, nose bumping into Sapnap’s when Sapnap doesn’t sit up quick enough. Their eyes lock, dark blue on dark brown, and George stares up at him for a second before he glances to Dream at the other end of the couch, one hand curled around George’s ankles. “‘Kay,” George says, voice rough. Sapnap finally leans back the rest of the way, and George sits up, pointing his sock-clad toes and stretching out his right arm, the limb having been pressed to the couch beneath him. When he takes his feet from Dream’s lap, dropping them to the floor, Dream’s elbow finally slips from the couch, and he jerks awake, eyes blinking rapidly until they finally settle blearily on the TV.

Sapnap leans over to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “George and I are gonna head out,” he tells him. “We’re all pretty tired.”

Dream looks over at him, movements sluggish, before he nods. “See you guys tomorrow?”

“Probably,” Sapnap replies.

Dream nods again before making a small noise and pushing himself up from the couch. The movie still plays on the television, but none of them pay it any mind. Dream picks up their empty bowl of popcorn and takes it to the kitchen.

George sighs, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes.

“Ready for the walk home?” He’s talking about their respective homes, Sapnap knows—George’s apartment and Sapnap’s dorm—but it feels so much like they’re a duo, a pair, home coming from George’s lips like they live together, that it makes Sapnap’s breath catch in his chest. Breathlessness and a clenching heart—maybe Sapnap should seek medical help.

At his lack of reply, George looks back at him. The blue light colors his skin something pretty. Maybe Sapnap’s just had an overdose of George. He doesn’t think he minds. “I’ll walk you home,” he says. And then he thinks about the placement of their houses. He backtracks. “Or… if you wanted, you could just stay at mine?”

George, growing steadily more alert as time goes on, stares at him. “You want me to go home with you,” he says. It is in no way a question.

“I mean, if you want,” Sapnap answers anyway.

“We might as well have spent the night here,” George tells him.

Sapnap glances back at Dream, only to find the other missing from the kitchen. A look at the dark hallway and the slim line of light coming from underneath the bathroom door lets him know where the other is, however. He turns back to George. “We can ask Dream,” he says. “Do you want to?”

George gives a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe your place would be better. We don’t know what he’s doing tomorrow.”

“We don’t,” Sapnap agrees, although they’re both aware Dream doesn’t have any plans.

“And we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” George continues.

“We don’t,” Sapnap repeats.

George sucks in a breath, holds it. “My place is farther,” he finally says on the exhale, “ but my bed is bigger.”

That’s true. Sapnap has a room to himself, but he’s still only got a twin. It can barely fit him sometimes.

“I’m willing to make the walk if you are,” he decides.

;;

George is willing to make the walk. Dream had come out of the bathroom not long after, wiping his hands dry on his sleep pants, then waving them out with a tired smile. Sapnap had taken George’s hand the minute the door had shut behind them, the two of them alone on the sidewalk, Sapnap tugging George even closer, using their connected hands to his advantage.

They make their way to George’s apartment slowly, despite their initial reluctance to walk. Sapnap wonders if it’s a delay of the inevitable or an enjoyment of the other’s company. (They can enjoy each others’ company within four walls, not outside where the unforgiving autumn cold that’s finally settled seeps into their bones.) George takes a breath.

“I don’t,” he starts, then makes a noise. “I don’t want anything to happen, Sapnap.”

When they pass under a streetlight, Sapnap sees George’s cheeks glow red. George glances over at him.

“You know that, right?”

Sapnap has a list of things he could say. I never even thought about that, is one. Why not? is another. “Yeah,” is what he goes with. “Don’t worry.” He squeezes George’s hand. George squeezes back.

“I just…,” George tilts his head back, looking to the sky, and Sapnap’s eyes are locked on the graceful column of his throat, “I really like you, Sapnap.” He goes back to looking ahead, but Sapnap keeps his eyes on him. “And it’s almost been a month since… since,” with his free hand, he makes a vague motion at where their other hands are locked together, “this. Whatever this is. So I just… in case you, I don’t know, expected anything.”

“It’s okay,” Sapnap says. Again, he adds, “Don’t worry.”

George smiles at him. Sapnap smiles back.

;;

When they reach George’s apartment, George unlocks the door and Sapnap follows him silently inside, chewing on his lower lip as he contemplates what he’s about to say next. Eventually, he gives up on elegance:

“You said this.” George looks over at him from where he’s locked the door. Sapnap leans against the kitchen counter. “Whatever this is.” He makes a gesture between the two of them, something indicative of the blurry relationship they have.

“I don’t know what to call it,” George says.

“I know,” Sapnap replies. “I don't know what to call it either.”

George glances around, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before he looks back to Sapnap. “What do you want to call it?”

Sapnap raises his brows. “What do you want to call it?”

George gives a sigh. “Are we having this talk now?”

“When else will we have it?” Sapnap crosses his arms as George shuts off the main lights, plunging the two of them into darkness.

“I don’t know,” George replies. “In the morning?” He’s nothing but a shadow as he crosses in front of Sapnap. Sapnap refrains from reaching out to grab a wrist, pull him to his chest, demand an answer now. It doesn’t matter that much.

But it’d be nice to have some answers. And George had been right before. It’s been almost a month since that kiss in Sapnap’s dorm, lips greasy with Taco Bell yet the kiss still nice, in that way kissing someone you really, really like is. In kissing someone you could grow to love—maybe already love, deep, deep down—is.

“I just like knowing,” Sapnap finally says. “What’s wrong with that?”

A light flicks on, and when Sapnap takes a couple steps away from the counter, he realizes it’s the light for George’s bedroom. He stands out of place in the doorway before George takes notice and makes his way over to the other. 

Sapnap gives him a tight smile once they’re face to face. George studies him for a second before sighing. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” He pivots, going over to a set of drawers and tugging the middle one open. T-shirts and lounge pants are folded loosely inside. “I like knowing too.” He glances over his shoulder at Sapnap. “Do you think any of these will fit?”

George buys most of his clothes oversized. Just something Sapnap’s noticed about the other. “There’s a chance,” he replies. George tosses a few different pairs at him. Sapnap changes in the bathroom.

The first pair he tries doesn’t fit at all. He gives a small laugh to himself before grabbing the second. They fit better. The third look hot, flannel and dark, even for the weather, so he leaves them folded and tries his best to fold the other pair before dutifully marching back to George’s side to have him tuck them back into his drawer.

“We’ve been on a date before,” Sapnap says, “and a half. A date and a half. You could say we’re dating?”

“We’re about to literally sleep together,” George replies, and although his cheeks are flaming, the heat radiating off them in waves, his expression remains neutral, completely unamused. “I think we’re a bit past that.”

“So…,” Sapnap tries his luck, though he’s starting to think it less luck, and more a careful maneuver on George’s part, “you could say we’re boyfriends?”

“A bit gradeschoolish,” George replies.

Sapnap blinks at him.

George stares back before rolling his eyes and scoffing. “You’re so dumb. Yes, you could say we’re boyfriends.”

Immediately, the blank look drops off Sapnap’s face, and he grins, even as George turns on a lamp and brushes past him to turn off the bedroom light, completely ignoring him. Sapnap watches him disappear out the door and round the corner into the bathroom. There’s the sound of water running, then rummaging, then water running again, and then George’s head pops into the bedroom and he says, “I’ve got a spare toothbrush.”

Sapnap brushes his teeth and watches George’s shadow every time its reflection appears in the mirror. He holds back a sudsy laugh when he realizes the taste of George’s toothpaste is familiar. He rinses and spits then straightens and runs a hand through his hair. It’s gotten longer since the start of the semester. Since he’s met George. When he tugs his fingers through the ends, they get caught on knots. He does his best to untangle them without a brush. He gives up less than a minute in.

When he gets back into George’s room, George is already in bed, looking at something on his phone. Sapnap bites back a giddy smile, crawling into bed next to him, immediately pressing a kiss to his temple then sliding down the bed and wrapping an arm around his waist. 

George sets his phone down on the bedside table before looking down at him. “You’re very affectionate,” he says.

“So I’ve been told,” Sapnap replies.

George stares at him for another handful of seconds. Sapnap stares back. George blinks, then stretches to turn off the lamp. They’re left in the dark once again.

Sapnap is forced to lift his arm when George gets properly under the covers, the sheets tugged up to his chin. He’s flat on his back, and when Sapnap sets his arm back down, this time across his chest, he can feel the tension in him. George takes in a breath, and when he lets it out, Sapnap feels it shudder.

“George,” Sapnap says, and then, a leap of faith, “baby.”

George turns his head. Beneath Sapnap’s arm, his heart pounds.

“C’mere,” Sapnap says. A second. Two seconds. George rolls onto his side. Now, they watch each other, face to face. Sapnap can’t pick up any details on George’s, the room too dark, the most he can figure out being the slope of George’s nose, the occasional movement of his eyes. The window is behind George. Sapnap wonders if George can see him more clearly. 

Sapnap gets his arm further round George, pulling him close. When George lets out a breath, Sapnap feels it warm through his shirt. When George blinks, Sapnap feels the feathery kisses his lashes leave on his skin.

“You’re really warm,” Sapnap says.

From beneath the covers, George’s fingers twist and tangle in his shirt. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

A car passes by outside. George gives a small sigh. Sapnap brushes the pads of his fingers across the back of George’s neck.

“You can,” the words get muffled into Sapnap’s chest.

“What?” Sapnap asks.

George tilts his head back. “Your shirt,” he says. “You can take it off if you want.”

It’s Sapnap’s heart’s turn to pound.

George goes back to lying on his back. And then he rolls onto his side, but this time, he faces the window. Sapnap studies the curve of his shoulder. Then he sits up. And he pulls off his shirt.

He doesn’t really know what to do with it. Dropping it on the floor seems messy, but folding it and putting it on the bedside table just feels weird. No matter what, he’s not getting out of bed. He glances over and has to fight back the urge to jump. George has rolled back over, now staring at him.

Sapnap drops his shirt on the floor. George scoffs before rolling back over.

“I didn’t know what to do!” Sapnap immediately defends himself. He gets back under the covers. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” George replies.

Sapnap moves closer. “Stop,” George says.

Sapnap places a hand on George’s shoulder. It’s warm under his palm.

“Sapnap,” George says.

“George,” Sapnap replies. He runs his hand from George’s shoulder down to his chest. Again, he can feel his heartbeat. He pulls the other closer, so George’s back is pressed to his chest.

“No,” George says. “I’m not… spooning with you.” The word is spat with venom.

Sapnap sighs, nose tickled by the other’s hair. “Night, babe.”

“Sapnap.” George’s fingers curl around Sapnap’s wrist. They make no move to pull his hand away. He makes no move to push him away.

He still hasn’t said butterscotch. Sapnap is pretty sure he’s not going to say butterscotch. George lets out a breath. Sapnap feels him relax against his chest. Another car passes by. Sapnap hears it outside. Sees the change in lighting from behind his eyelids.

George lets out a quiet breath. “Whatever,” he finally says, more to himself than to Sapnap. “Night, Sapnap.”

Sapnap hums and delights in the shiver it sends through George. When he falls asleep, it’s to the steady sound of George breathing and the light movements of George tracing shapes on the back of his hand. Sapnap wonders what exactly it is he’s drawing. Wonders if he’s drawing anything in particular at all.

;;

When Sapnap wakes, George is still asleep. They’ve changed positions sometime in the night, both of them apparently being the type to spread out (and it had felt nice, Sapnap notes, not just to wake up next to George, but to wake up in a bed that he can actually stretch out in), so now George, Sapnap sees after sitting up all the way, has a foot just off the edge of the bed, the bump of it clear under the blanket, an arm flung back towards Sapnap, the other close to his head, fingers brushing the hair near his ear. The leg closer to Sapnap is tangled with Sapnap’s own. Sapnap’s not sure which of them is the cause for that.

There’s not much to do yet. It’s a Saturday, and while Dream didn’t have plans, he didn’t have any either. George might, but Sapnap is pretty sure that’s unlikely. He lets himself fall back onto the bed, head bouncing lightly against the pillow. George makes a soft sound from next to him. Sapnap takes his hand. He tries not to think the curl that appears at the corner of George’s lips is because of him.

George sleeps for another hour, Sapnap drifting in and out of wakefulness next to him. The final time Sapnap wakes, he knows he won’t be falling back asleep, but it doesn’t matter, because George huffs then slowly blinks open his eyes, staring blankly at the wall before looking over at Sapnap.

“G’morning,” he says.

“Morning,” Sapnap replies.

“Breakfast?” George asks.

“I’m down.”

Neither of them move.

George gives a soft laugh. Sapnap smiles at the sound.

“I might have eggs in the fridge,” George says. He looks over at the other. “I have apple juice.”

Still, neither of them move. Sapnap grins as George sighs and presses the heels of his palms over his eyes.

“There’s a diner on 3rd and Ashmore,” Sapnap tells him. “Want to try there?”

“Sounds good,” George replies.

They sit there for another second before George swings his legs off the bed and Sapnap leans over to pick his t-shirt off the floor.

“I might have a sweater you can wear,” George says. “You can put it on over your shirt.”

“Yeah?” Sapnap asks.

George tosses him a sweatshirt. It’s a pale grey, crewneck. Sapnap tugs it on over his head. It’s a little tight. George sighs, grabbing Sapnap’s jacket off the chair he had set it on the night before. “Never mind. It’s fine. Not like anyone saw you last night anyway.”

“Scared they’ll think you’re sleeping around?” Sapnap teases. George sends him an unamused look, taking the sweatshirt back when Sapnap hands it to him. “George the neighborhood whore?”

“Shouldn’t you be a little nicer to your boyfriend?” George asks, and while Sapnap is choking on his words, George sends him a playful look, hanging the sweatshirt back up in his closet.

Sapnap gets a grip on himself and gives him a smile back. “That’s not a no.”

“Yes,” George tells him, “because I’m just such a whore. Always sleeping around.”

Sapnap stands, going over to George, backing him up into the bedroom door. “I wouldn’t mind,” he says, “if that were the case. I know it’s not, but even if it were, I don’t care.”

“I don’t care either,” George replies. Sapnap wonders if George thinks that was the case with him. “I,” they had tentatively locked eyes, George’s occasionally glowing amber when caught by the morning light slipping through the blinds, but now, George looks away, at some distant point past Sapnap, “like you as you are. If that’s how you were, it wouldn’t matter. I like you.”

“Can I kiss you?” Sapnap asks, breath caught in his throat. At George’s concerned look, Sapnap waves a hand. “Morning breath, I—you—you seem like you’d care about that.”

George presses a kiss to the corner of Sapnap’s lips. Sapnap lifts a hand and runs his fingers along George’s chin, gets pricked by the short, short stubble there, then tilts his head and kisses George proper on the lips. George kisses back.

When they separate, George keeps his eyes closed. Sapnap bumps their noses together.

“In the future,” George says, “I’ll care about that.”

Sapnap really wants to say I love you.

“I’m sure you will,” he says instead.

;;

For breakfast, Sapnap has steak and eggs. George has French toast. To drink, he has apple juice. Sapnap stares into his own black coffee.

“Very nice,” George tells him. “Very stereotypical.”

“Are you really judging my food choices right now?” Sapnap asks.

George lifts his cup to his lips, taking a sip of his juice as he raises a single brow. Sapnap tries to be defiant, firm in his choices, but his eyes are continually drawn to George’s throat, the pale skin there. His gaze is only broken by George setting the glass back down. Sapnap swallows. He can’t say if George’s eyes following the movement is deliberate.

He looks back up. George has moved on, cutting into his toast, taking a bite.

“It’s good,” he says, once he’s swallowed. “How’s yours?”

Sapnap cuts into his steak. It’s good.

They eat, and their legs once again tangle, this time under a table instead of blankets.

;;

Despite what they had all told each other the day before, George and Sapnap end up not seeing Dream again.

“Sorry,” he tells them over a Discord call, George and Sapnap both at George’s computer, Sapnap having dragged the chair in the corner of George’s bedroom over to the desk. “Someone kind of high profile asked me to code something for them. I wasn’t going to turn it down. It was a good offer.”

“We didn’t expect you to turn it down,” George replies. “We don’t want you to turn it down.”

“Yeah, man,” Sapnap agrees. “That’s great. Secure that bag.”

“Secure that bag?” George echoes. “Seriously?”

“Let’s get this bread,” Sapnap says solemnly. “Make his pockets hurt.”

“I already did,” George replies.

“Still,” Dream cuts in easily, making George and Sapnap immediately stop, heads turning once again to the computer, “I’m sorry. I’ll see you Monday or Tuesday maybe.”

“You want a rematch?” George asks him. “It’s been awhile since I’ve completely obliterated you.”

“Whatever,” Dream laughs. “I’ll see you.”

“See you,” George and Sapnap agree. And then the call ends. And then it’s just them.

Part of Sapnap feels like he’s overstaying his welcome. Part of him wants to overstay his welcome, wants to stay forever. Part of him feels like George would say something if he were. If not get out , then butterscotch or something. But George has stayed silent, content to have Sapnap by his side.

At that thought, Sapnap leans over, a hand coming to rest on George’s thigh. George shifts, and Sapnap’s hand falls. That was the movement’s intention. Sapnap readjusts, placing his hand on the edge of George’s chair. George returns to his previous position. Sapnap leaves his hand where it is.

George takes a breath then leans back, head rolling on his neck to look over at Sapnap. “Got any work to do?”

“Nope,” Sapnap replies, popping the p. George hums, eyes slipping shut.

“Got any plans at all?”

“Nope,” Sapnap repeats. “No obligations, nowhere I need to be. I can go home if you want me to, though.”

“You don’t need to,” George replies. And then he glances behind to the bed. “I might take a nap.”

“You want me to say something,” Sapnap says, eyes narrowing. “What is it?”

George looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I want you,” he says, “to do whatever you think you should be doing right now.” 

And with that, he rises from his chair, tugs off his tennis shoes, and falls onto the bed.

“In jeans?” Sapnap asks him, crossing his arms as best as he can at the angle he’s at.

George grunts. Sapnap sighs, taking the pair of sweatpants George had left on the dresser and dropping them on the bed next to George.

“You want any water or anything?” he asks.

George keeps his eyes closed. “I’m good, thanks.”

Sapnap studies him for a second before heading to the bathroom.

He really has no idea what George wants from him. 

Really, going into the bathroom was just him stalling, more for George’s benefit than his—he’s completely certain he’ll reenter George’s bedroom to see the other wearing the sweatpants he had set next to him—but he does use it as a moment to wonder just what he’s supposed to be doing.

When he goes back into George’s room, the other is lying the way he had been when he left, but, just as Sapnap thought, he’s now wearing sweatpants, an arm thrown across his eyes.

Sapnap takes a seat next to him, then lets out a breath and lets himself relax back onto the bed. George’s arm falls from his eyes. Together, they stare up at the ceiling.

“Can we just stay like this?” George finally asks.

Sapnap looks over at him.

George remains looking at the ceiling.

“Like what?”

“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap.” George’s fingers brush his. Sapnap fights the urge to take them. “It’s a lot for me.” George finally turns his head and meets Sapnap’s eyes.

Sapnap holds his breath. George’s fingers run up his arm, tickle quick over his shoulder, finally scratch through the slight beard he has. “Sorry,” Sapnap says.

George takes a breath, then shifts, turning himself onto his side. “Not your fault. It’s just new. A lot of this is,” he gives a quiet exhale, “new.” His fingers still press against Sapnap’s skin. They’re warm. Sapnap swears when they fall away, his skin will be stained red.

“I like it,” George finally says. “New is good.”

“That’s good,” Sapnap says.

“It is,” George agrees. “I like this a lot.”

“In the future, you’ll care?” Sapnap asks.

George laughs, gentle, soft. “I already do.”

;;

The rest of the weekend passed slowly, time molasses. Sapnap hadn’t spent the night again, the two of them finally napping, then Sapnap slipping out when they next woke, delivering a kiss to George’s lips then tugging his jacket over his shoulders and heading out into the October cold. He’d taken his time on the walk home, an opposite of Friday night—reluctance to leave, each step heavier than the last. By the time he gets to his dorm, he swears his feet are stone.

Wearily, he eyes his desk. Atop it lay various assignments, all at different degrees of completion. Most aren’t due till Friday or the next week entirely—he’d meant it when he told George he’s got nothing he needs to be doing—but with nothing to take his immediate attention anymore, he finds himself wondering if now would be a good time to complete it all.

He gets through an assignment and a half before he finds his thoughts wandering. Some of them go towards eating; he and George had slept through lunch, and now it’s practically dinnertime, and Sapnap is hungry. But most of them go towards George, towards a thought he’d had that morning.

I love you.

He rolls the thought around in his mind. Reshapes it.

I love you, George.

A beat.

“You’re so affectionate, Sapnap. It’s a lot for me.”

Sapnap groans, head coming to rest in his hands. When he lifts his head again, he pushes his hair back. An I love you now would be too soon. They’ve just declared themselves boyfriends, and now Sapnap is thinking about I love yous.

It is a lot. For anyone. Sapnap is the odd one out here. He knows it’s a problem, but he just doesn’t know any other way to be.

;;

meeting dream today, gonna try and kick his ass. wish me luck?

Sapnap smiles down at the text that lights up his phone. Kick his ass babe, gl but u got this

thanks

Sapnap slips his phone back into his pocket. It vibrates. Sapnap pulls it out once more.

It’s probably the bare minimum. There’s no words involved. But it stops Sapnap short, leaving him staring down at his screen with wide eyes. He wonders if he’s pink. His skin feels warm. 

<3

It means something. It’s George. It has to mean something.

;;

“I brought Taco Bell,” George announces when Sapnap swings the door open.

George pushes past him easily, setting the bags at an empty spot on Sapnap’s desk while Dream brings up the rear, shirt wet with condensation from their drinks.

“It only felt right,” George tells him as Dream gives him his Baja Blast.

“I’m here this time, though,” Dream says, pulling out a burrito from one of the bags George sat down. “Please don’t make any jumps in your relationship while I’m still in the room, thanks.”

George glares at him then takes a menacing bite of his Quesarito.

Sapnap turns to Dream with wide eyes. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”

“It won’t be,” George says.

“I didn’t realize you’re so sentimental, George,” Dream finally speaks up after a few minutes of them just eating their food.

“I’m not,” George replies.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Dream sends him an unamused look, but George just gives him one right back.

“Really,” he says. “I’m not.” He glances at Sapnap. Dream catches it. “I’m not really doing this for myself, anyway.”

Sapnap flushes, staring down at his gordita. Dream looks between them, blinks, exhales. Sapnap thinks he’s going to say something ridiculous. All he says is, “Couples,” and that’s that.

George catches his eye, smiles, and it’s like they’re sharing a secret. Sapnap likes it.

He loves it.

;;

With a new week comes the panic of midterms. Sapnap had thought he’d been overwhelmed before, but now he’s drowning, completely slipping under murky waters.

George pulls him out with a heated chocolate croissant and a pat on the head.

Sapnap smiles at him as he walks away.

Dream sits on a chair next to him, flipping through one of the New Yorker s left on the little table in front of them. Sapnap blinks at his laptop before setting it aside and stretching. “You’re so lucky, man,” he tells Dream, who gives a noncommittal hum and turns a page. “I mean it. Midterms are the worst.”

“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “Tests are annoying.”

“They’re dumb,” Sapnap says, conviction coloring his words. “Memorization is dumb.”

“Just a couple more years of this,” Dream replies.

Sapnap sighs, picking up the chocolate croissant and taking a bite. “Just a couple more years.”

After a few more minutes, Dream heaves a sigh. “It’s getting to me,” he says.

“Sorry,” Sapnap replies, like he can in some way change the strength of the coffee.

“It’s fine,” Dream dismisses, then he stands, dropping the magazine back onto the table. “See you later.”

Sapnap sends him a smile as he waves at George, who’s moved back behind the counter.

“See you!” George calls as the door slides shut behind Dream.

“That was pretty long, I think,” Sapnap says when George makes his way over a few minutes later, now on break, taking up Dream’s empty chair. “We’d been here almost an hour.”

“That is long,” George agrees. “How long are you staying?”

“You get off at four?” Sapnap asks, and George nods. “Want to get dinner with Dream and I after?”

“Of course.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back.

;;

Despite all of his manic studying—or perhaps because of it—midterms the next week pass by relatively quickly, him coming out of his last class Friday tired but content. He doesn’t really think he got an A, but he’s sure his mark will be pretty damn close. 

A few hours and a billion failed Minecraft speedruns later, Sapnap gets a message from Dream.

I know movie nights r every other week, but u just finished midterms. Wanna come over?

Sapnap’s at the other’s house before he even thinks about it. “Uh, yes, I want to come over,” he tells Dream when the other opens the door. “What are we watching?” 

“Whatever you want,” Dream replies. “You’re the one who’s got nothing to worry about anymore.”

Sapnap grins, plucking a movie off the shelf. “Here,” he hands it to Dream. “Popcorn?”

“You know it,” Dream replies, getting the movie set up.

When the popcorn is done, Dream is on the couch, remote in hand. “Good?”

Sapnap nods, setting the bowl between them.

The movie passes by quickly, and they move onto the next one—it turns into a right marathon by the time the sun has set, and eventually, the bowl of popcorn is empty, and they’re leaning against one another in the center of the couch.

At a lull in the movie, a quiet moment between the two main characters, Sapnap speaks:

“I think I’m in love with George.”

Dream is quiet for a moment. Sapnap feels him shift against him. Their shoulders press together. “He’s easy to love,” Dream echoes his words from weeks before.

“Easy to scare,” Sapnap replies.

More movement.

“Is there ever a right time to say I love you?” Dream asks. “If you love them, let them know.”

“He told me that I’m a lot,” Sapnap tells him. “That I’m a lot for him.”

“I’m sure he didn’t say it like that,” Dream says. Sapnap gives a half-hearted shrug. Dream sits up, angling himself to better face Sapnap. Sapnap imitates his pose. Like this, he can only see half of Dream’s face, one side lit up by the TV screen, the other cast in shadow. “It’s been a month,” Dream continues, “and a half. I think George is the type of guy where, if he feels like you’re too much, if he doesn’t like you, he’s going to leave. He’s not going to sit there, miserable, waiting for you to pull the plug.”

Dream is right because of course he is, but Sapnap still shifts, uncomfortable. “I just… I am a lot. We don’t spend all the time together, but I’m so much more affectionate than he is, and it’s like… I already love him, and—and—we have a safeword, Dream. Like this is some BDSM thing. But it’s not for that, it’s for how much I fucking hold his hand.”

“But isn't that proof?” Dream asks. “That’s communication. Compromise. He wants this to work, Sap. He wants to be with you. Wants you.” He smiles, hand reaching between them to hold Sapnap’s shoulder. “He wants the guy that’s pushy and loud and in your face, the guy that drinks too many vanilla fraps and gets competitive over everything and likes to cuddle. He wouldn’t have decided to go out with you—hell, I don’t even think he’d have kissed you—if that isn’t who he wanted.” He leans back, hand stroking warm down Sapnap’s arm, and the minute it falls back into his lap, Sapnap leans forward to throw his arms around the other.

“I love you,” Sapnap says, turning his face to press his nose into Dream’s neck. “I’m so lucky you’re my best friend.”

Though his arms are pinned awkwardly to his sides, Dream still manages to reach and get his hands on Sapnap’s waist where he squeezes the other in a poor imitation of a hug. “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t my best friend,” he replies. “I love you too.” 

When Sapnap pulls away, Dream smiles. “But I don’t think I’m the one you need to be saying I love you to, though.”

Sapnap sleeps on Dream’s couch that night and dreams of the different ways telling George he loves him could go.

He’s pleased to note that most of the scenarios end positively.

;;

Saturday he spends the night at George’s again. He lies in bed, quiet, with George next to him, one of the older’s hands holding his phone, the other affectionately brushing through Sapnap’s hair. Sapnap gives a quiet sigh before rolling over and touching his nose to George’s hip. George hums and twirls a lock of Sapnap’s hair around a thin finger.

“You okay?” George asks.

Sapnap squeezes his eyes shut and nuzzles further into the other's side. “Tired.”

“Fall break is coming up,” George consoles him, “and midterms are over.”

Sapnap nods, arm stretching out and over George’s waist. His fingers brush along George’s side, featherlight. George flinches away from it with a giggle. Sapnap tilts his head, eyes opening and gaze flitting to George’s face. It’s a bad angle, but he can still make out the smile there.

He loves George, he knows that now. He’s in love with George.

And George wants him. Wants the him that touches too much and feels too much and loves more than he should. George wants that. George has that. And he likes it.

Sapnap sighs, sinking back into George’s side. George plugs his phone in then turns off the lamp. Before he gets fully under the covers, Sapnap feels his fingers run through his hair one more time before a kiss is pressed to the top of his head.

“Goodnight, Sapnap,” George whispers.

Sapnap squeezes George as best as he can, delivers warm kisses to the parts of George he can reach. “Night, baby.”

George hums, touching the tips of their noses together (with the action, Sapnap swears he did some kind of witchcraft to steal his breath), before rolling over, back to Sapnap’s front. Sapnap bites back a smile. He wonders if George would call this spooning. Because that’s what it is.

He buries his nose in the soft hair at the nape of George’s neck. It’d be easy to say it now. Let the words slip out and if George questions him on it, he can blame it on sleep. A slip of the tongue.

But he doesn’t want it to be a mistake, even if that’s a lie to save his own face. He wants the words to be deliberate, the meaning of them felt by George wholly.

He sighs, and George shivers with it. Sapnap makes a small noise of apology.

“What’re you thinking about?” George finally asks.

Sapnap takes in a breath. He’s not sure what to answer.

“You don’t have to tell me,” George says.

“I want to,” Sapnap replies.

George exhales, the sound loud, before rolling back over. When he’s facing Sapnap, a hand comes up to hold Sapnap’s cheek.

“I think you’re more affectionate than you realize,” Sapnap tells him.

“I think you just make me affectionate,” George replies.

Sapnap stares at him. George stares back before he lifts his hand, fingertips remaining against Sapnap’s skin. He runs them over his cheek, then across his lower lip. And then they go back to his cheek, and George is moving to slot their lips together.

When they separate, Sapnap smiles. He’s pretty sure George smiles back. He presses one more kiss to George’s lips.

He could say it now. George’s fingers begin to tangle into the ends of Sapnap’s hair. His mouth is hot underneath Sapnap’s own. Their breath intermingles. Under the sheets, their legs have tangled together. The two of them are practically completely intertwined.

Against his lips, Sapnap feels George smile.

He says it.

The words hang heavy in the minimal space between them. Sapnap’s heart is equally heavy in his chest as he anticipates George’s reaction. He wants to ramble—apologize, take them back, clarify, tell him that he loves him but he isn’t in love with him (but he is)—but he doesn’t. The words are what they are. He means them.

Though his face seems to now be void of the smile he wore, George doesn’t move away, and they remain tangled together. George rubs his thumb over the curve of Sapnap’s cheek.

He feels George’s breath. George kisses him softly. And then he replies: “I can’t say it yet, Sapnap.” His other hand finds Sapnap’s own. Holds it. “I feel it. I’m, like, certain I do. But I can’t say it yet. Not like that.”

Sapnap sucks in a breath, closes his eyes, nods. “I get it. That’s fine. I love you, though. I just… wanted you to know.”

At that, George laughs, a quiet, warm sound. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.” A beat. And then, “The minute I can say it myself, I’ll tell you.”

Sapnap smiles. “I’m holding you to that.”

George rolls back over. Instead of waiting for Sapnap to curl around him, he backs up, pulls Sapnap’s arm over him. Readjusts so it’s even harder to separate their legs. “Goodnight, Sapnap.” He means it this time.

Sapnap closes his eyes, relaxes. The words are out there now. And George accepts them. No take-backs.

“Goodnight.”

;;

Neither bring it up later. It happened—Sapnap definitely told him—but the words stay only in the air between them, felt but never heard. They go on a walk, no destination in mind, just enjoying each other’s company, and at the local cafe (an actual cafe, not the Starbucks George works at), they split a hot chocolate topped with a mountain of whipped cream that ages them a hundred years only for those years to be wiped away with a thumb. At one point, George has some stuck to the corner of his lips, and Sapnap can’t help but lean forward to lick it away. Of course, George shrieks and shoves him back, flustered and grossed out, but his lips are upturned.

“Sweet,” Sapnap tells him.

“You’re so annoying,” George replies.

“You’re cute,” Sapnap shoots back.

George flushes and takes the mug from Sapnap’s hands, lifting it to his lips so he can hide the smile on his lips. It only works so well. Sapnap lets the moment go, though.

“Normally that’d be butterscotch,” George tells him as they exit the cafe. “I can’t believe you did that. That’s so disgusting.”

Sapnap laces their fingers together. George huffs.

“The only reason you got away with it is because I didn’t expect it.” George kicks a pebble lying in his path. “So annoying.”

Sapnap doesn’t bring it up, but he does say it again.

George stutters out a laugh. Sapnap feels George’s hand squeeze his. It’s enough.

;;

The weeks pass by quickly after that, and soon Sapnap finds himself Friday night sitting between George and Dream while an early 2000s sci-fi movie plays on the TV. They weren’t supposed to have movie night this week either, but come tomorrow morning Sapnap is supposed to head down south for Thanksgiving with his family, so this is their last hurrah together.

They’re a bit like dominoes, actually, Dream sitting normally on the couch, Sapnap’s back resting pressed against his side, and George leaning on Sapnap. Idly, he plays with Sapnap’s fingers. To add to George’s amusement, Sapnap flexes and stretches his fingers. Meanwhile, Dream tugs on his hair.

“It’s probably best you head home soon,” Dream says. “Not to kick you out, but it’s a long drive tomorrow.”

“How many hours away is Houston anyway?” George asks, voice muffled with the way his cheek is squished against Sapnap’s chest.

“Too many,” Sapnap says. “I’m gonna miss you guys.”

“We’ll miss you too,” Dream tells him. 

George makes an affirmative noise.

“But it’s only for a week,” Sapnap says. “And then I’ll be back up here.”

“You don’t normally focus on that,” Dream tells him, more for George’s sake than his. Sapnap flushes, glancing down at George, who stares back with inquisitive eyes. “But I guess now you have something to come back to. Someone.”

“I like spending time with you.”

Dream scoffs. “Like distance ever mattered when it comes to us.”

“Huh?” George pushes himself up and Sapnap sends Dream a dirty look.

“I like cuddling with the homies well enough, but affection from you is way different from affection from George.” He pulls George back down on top of him. “Affection from you is like… a jacket. Nice to have, really nice, but not a necessity. George is a shirt. No shirt, no shoes, no service.”

Dream guffaws. “I hope I’m not just a jacket to you guys, but a friend too.”

“You’re my friend, Dream,” George tells him.

“I love you, George!” Dream immediately replies, and George hides a laugh in Sapnap’s chest.

The movie ends not long after that, and soon Sapnap is heading home.

“I can walk myself home just fine,” George tells him when they reach the intersection that Sapnap is supposed to turn at.

“But I like walking you home,” Sapnap replies.

“But you need to rest,” George tells him, smile on his face. He brushes a strand of hair out of Sapnap’s eyes. “I can help you pack your car in the morning?”

“Do you want to?”

George just continues to smile.

“Why are you like this?” Sapnap asks, and then he leans forward and George lifts a hand to cup the back of his neck. They kiss, and when they separate, Sapnap squeezes George’s waist. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Sleep well,” George replies.

“I’ll try.” George smiles, and Sapnap smiles back. George’s hand slips from his neck, and Sapnap’s hand falls from his waist. George starts to walk away. “Goodnight!” Sapnap calls after him. “Love you!”

“Goodnight, Sapnap!” George calls back.

;;

George greets him with a kiss and a coffee and bagel pressed into his hands. “For the road,” he says, and Sapnap thanks him, setting the things aside and drawing George into a deeper kiss than the chaste one he was given. “For the road?”

Sapnap grins. “For me. A week away from you. You know I need my kissies.”

“Don’t ever say that again,” George says. “Oh my God. I think I’m going to be sick.”

Sapnap laughs before tugging his backpack over his shoulders. Dragging his suitcase behind him, he leads George to the parking lot, where he lifts his suitcase and sets it into the trunk. “Seriously, though,” he says, “this’ll be fun.”

“An experiment,” George replies. “A week apart. How will we fare?”

Sapnap grins, and George smiles back.

“Remember me while I’m away,” Sapnap tells him. “Don’t go falling for the first pretty face you see.”

“Of course not,” George says solemnly, and Sapnap laughs. George studies him for a second before once again kissing him. “Three’s a lucky number.”

“I didn’t think you believed in luck,” Sapnap says.

“I don’t,” George replies.

Another kiss. George makes a small noise.

“Four,” Sapnap says. “Actually, I think that’s unlucky in China. I read that somewhere.”

One more.

“How’s five?” George asks.

“Eh,” Sapnap says. “Even numbers are better.”

“Seven is lucky.”

“Eight?”

“Pushing it.”

Sapnap leans away from where he’d come to pin George against the door. George straightens up, readjusts his shirt. Sapnap runs a hand through his hair. George tracks the movement with his eyes. Sapnap’s hand falls back to his side.

“Thanks,” he says.

George huffs a small laugh. “Don’t mention it.”

Sapnap studies him for a second before pulling him into a hug. “I really will miss you,” he says. “I’ll see you.”

“You’re getting on the server with Dream and I if you’re not too tired tonight, right?” George asks.

“Duh.”

George nods. Sapnap feels it against his neck.

“I’ll miss you too,” George finally says.

Sapnap holds him tighter.

;;

Despite the drama of him leaving, Thanksgiving passes by without much fuss. 

They voice call a fair amount and when Sapnap gets to Houston he does hop on the SMP for a bit, a couple hours later passing out mid-call. When he wakes, the lights are all shut off and his blinds are closed.

He’s grateful.

Dream FaceTimes him on Thanksgiving, showing Sapnap his and George’s… creative feast.

“I still can’t believe you guys are having it together,” Sapnap tells the two, completely ignoring the football game on TV to focus entirely on them.

“Why shouldn’t we?” Dream asks him. “George’s family is in England, and it’s not like they celebrate, and I’m not going to Florida this year. Why not?”

That’s fair. 

“Still,” Sapnap says anyway. “And did you just call every nearby restaurant?”

“It’s an assortment,” George says.

“But it’s good,” Dream continues. “Besides, it’s more about the leftovers than the meal.”

Also fair, and Sapnap finds himself with an array of Tupperware from his family’s Thanksgiving in his backseat as he drives back to school. When he’s back inside his dorm, staring at his minifridge, he realizes they won’t all fit in the small space.

“Can I use your fridge?”

“Welcome back, Sapnap,” George replies. “How was your break?”

“I’m offering you free food,” Sapnap says.

“And I’m asking how your break was.”

Sapnap makes a face. “Good. I’m happy to be back. Now, can I please use your fridge?”

A pause. “You only love me for my house,” George finally says. “That’s so wrong of you.”

It’s the first time George has ever brought up Sapnap’s love for him, even as a joke. Sapnap takes a breath. “I do love you for your house,” he replies, teasing before turning serious, “but I also love you for a lot of other reasons. You’re very lovable, you know.”

George is quiet for a second before Sapnap hears movement. “When are you coming over here?”

Sapnap gets an Uber, knowing parking near George’s apartment is risky at best. “Ten minutes?” he says when his phone tells him his driver will be there soon.

“Okay.” Sapnap listens as George putters around. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” George replies immediately, and then, “you’ll see.”

“M'kay,” Sapnap says. “I’ll be there soon.”

“Bye,” George says, and then ends the call.

Sapnap looks down into his plastic bag of remaining Tupperware. His phone pings—the driver’s outside.

;;

“Are you ready to eat leftovers for months?” Sapnap asks, setting the bags down on the counter. “Or at least as long as they last.”

George opens the first bag, pulling out a medium-sized container stuffed full of mashed potatoes. Immediately, he finds a place in his fridge to tuck it into. He does this with the rest of the containers, Sapnap taking them out and setting them on the empty counter space for George to pick up and put away. When they’re done, George comes to lean next to Sapnap.

“We survived,” he says.

“I knew we would,” Sapnap replies.

They’re on each other in an instant.

“I’m not usually into this,” George says hotly into his mouth.

“I know,” Sapnap says.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” George continues.

“Do you need to know?” Sapnap asks.

George moans at the nip Sapnap gives to his lower lip.

“No,” George replies. “No.” Sapnap runs a burning trail of bites soothed by his tongue down George’s neck. “Sapnap.”

Against his skin, Sapnap smiles.

George gasps when Sapnap moves to press George into the couch instead, the cushions definitely comfier than the linoleum counter. “I missed you so much,” Sapnap says, each word punctuated by a kiss.

“You—Sapnap, yes—too.” George gets his fingers twisted and tangled into his hair, drags him up roughly. Sapnap bites back a groan at the sting and George pulls him into a bruising kiss. “Shit. I missed you.”

Sapnap lets himself be pulled down over George’s body, more than happy to press him further into the couch.

;;

George doesn’t let Sapnap skip his first class on Monday.

“School is important,” he tells him, zipping up his jacket like some mother hen. Sapnap makes a face when his hands brush imaginary dust off his shoulders.

“What are you going to do when I’m gone?” Sapnap asks.

George laughs. “Leaving for a week again?”

Sapnap gives him a dry look.

George smiles, soft. “I’m going to work. You’ll see me in, like, four… five hours at most. Is that really the end of the world?”

Sapnap grabs his hands from where they’d come to rest on his chest, pulling George in closer. “I just like spending time with you.”

“I love spending time with you too,” George says, “and you don’t see me clinging to you.”

“You think this is clingy?” Sapnap raises a brow in a silent challenge, and George tries to back up, but Sapnap just gives another tug to his hands before pulling him into a hug and wrapping his arms tight around him. “You wish I were clingy! You want me to be more clingy, actually.”

“I do not,” George replies, words warm against Sapnap’s ear. Sapnap holds back a shiver as George wriggles in his arms. “You’re… I like you like this.”

Sapnap holds him closer. George lets him.

He pulls away after a moment, the day finally catching up to them. “Class,” George tells Sapnap.

“Work,” Sapnap tells George.

They reach the Starbucks and George squeezes his hand. “See you,” he says.

“Love you,” Sapnap replies. And then George is disappearing into the cafe, the words dissipating in the growing space between them.

;;

The rest of the week passes by slowly, each day slouching into the next. Sapnap looks over at George, whose lips are wrapped pretty around a cake pop. He’s been quiet, more so than usual, and it sets Sapnap on edge, each word coming out of him more hesitant than the last.

Come Saturday, and he finds himself confronting the other.

“You’re avoiding me,” he says.

“I’m not avoiding you,” is immediately shot back, and Sapnap rushes forward, George bringing a hand up between them to push him away. “I’m not. I’m just….”

“I’m too much,” Sapnap says, filling in the words himself.

George is adamant. “No! You’re—you’re—you’re you, and I—Sapnap, I really—,” he makes a small noise and Sapnap tries to get closer again, but George’s hand comes back up and he mutters a quick butterscotch. 

“What’s wrong?” Sapnap asks. “I did something.”

“You—no,” George shoves past Sapnap to get a glass and fill it up with tap water. He takes a quick drink before pouring the rest down the drain. “You love me so much,” he finally says.

“You’re lovable,” Sapnap replies. “Everything about you, George. It’s just—you’re so easy to love.”

“That’s what Dream had said,” George tells him, and Sapnap swallows at the lump that’s built in his throat like sediment, little bits and pieces added to the pile till it cuts off Sapnap’s airways and he’s left floundering, gasping for air. George gives a quiet laugh. “I thought,” he swallows, takes a breath in contrast to Sapnap’s struggle, “it was too soon. I’m not good at this, Sapnap.”

Sapnap moves to speak, but George continues, setting the glass in the sink before his fingers curl into the countertop, knuckles turning white from his grip. He takes another breath. “I love you,” he says, all in one breath. “It shouldn’t have happened so fast. I’m… I’m terrified, Sapnap.”

When Sapnap takes a hesitant step closer, George lets him. He lifts a hand and brushes back some of George’s hair before running his knuckles over George’s cheek, down to his neck. He curls his fingers around the back, brushes them through the short hair there. Under his palm, George is tense.

George breathes, and it comes out in a shudder. “Everything about you is so much.” He straightens, meets Sapnap’s eyes. “I’m trying, Sapnap. But sometimes I think you’re just too much for me.” 

And then he shrugs off Sapnap's hand, moves around him, disappears into his bedroom. Sapnap hears the door click. He stands alone in the kitchen, his only source of light the one over the stove. He thinks it might be dimmer than usual. He waits. George doesn’t come back out. Sapnap wonders if he’s been broken up with. George still doesn’t come back out.

Sapnap looks at the empty plastic bags on the counter. He gathers them in his hands. George can keep his leftovers. He never really wanted them anyway.

;;

“I think George broke up with me,” Sapnap accepts the apple slice Dream hands him, and at the sight of the fruit, it’s like the dam he tried to build surrounding thoughts of George breaks and all those pent up feelings come pouring out, “yesterday. He told me he loved me. And then he left me.” His grandma had made some apple cobbler. It sits on the second shelf of George’s fridge. George’s favorite fruit is apples. 

Sapnap takes a bite out of the slice. Dream sits next to him on the couch, setting the tray of assorted fruit on the coffee table. “Did he actually say that?” Dream asks. “That he’s breaking up with you.”

“He left,” Sapnap repeats. “He said, ‘I love you. You’re too much for me.’ Then he just… walked into his room, shut the door, and that was it.”

“Talk to him again,” Dream says. “He told you he loved you. I don’t think that’s nothing for George.”

Sapnap sighs. It’s not. Dream smiles at him, and Sapnap leans over, resting his head on the other’s shoulder.

“It’ll be fine,” Dream tells him. “Communication is always key.”

As always, he’s right.

;;

He doesn’t want to have any major conversations at Starbucks, but he feels if he doesn’t do it now he won’t do it at all. There hasn’t been any word between him and George since that conversation in the kitchen, but Sapnap doesn’t let that deter him, instead pressing on determinedly as he walks inside and sees George’s usual station devoid of, well, George.

“Called in sick today,” Sarah tells him as she finishes putting whipped cream on someone’s drink. “Thought he’d have told you.”

Sapnap blinks. “Uh,” he says, and then, “think he fell back asleep before he could. Thanks.” Sarah waves nonchalantly, but Sapnap is out the door before he can see it.

The walk to George’s has him tugging at the drawstring of his hoodie, the chill settling deep within him, unshakeable now, especially without George’s easy warmth by his side. He’s never been more grateful to see the steps leading up to the older’s apartment than he is at this moment.

And then he has to wait, much the same way he did Saturday, wait for George to see his text, call him back, answer his knock.

He waits, and he waits, and he waits.

The lock clicks, and the door creaks open. Sapnap swears his fingertips are turning blue.

“George,” he says immediately, just to have said something , and then the door is opening wider and Sapnap is rushing into the apartment, getting himself fully inside before George can reconsider.

In the sink, he spies empty Tupperware containers.

George stands next to the couch. Sapnap swallows.

“George,” he says again. “I missed you.”

“It was only a day, Sapnap,” George replies. His voice is quiet.

“You said I love you to me,” Sapnap says. George stays silent. Sapnap falters, continues: “I love you too, and I know I’m a lot, but George,” he comes closer—George lets him—he places a hand on George’s waist—George lets him, “I’ll… you once told me I can’t dial it down, or whatever, and this is me telling you that for you, I’d dial it down. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I can’t, but I want to try. For you. You said you’d try for me. You need to know I’d do the same for you.”

George laughs, but it’s an empty, hollow sound, just air shoved past his lips. “I don’t think it’s as easy as that.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Sapnap asks. “You said it happened so fast. What happened so fast?”

George mutters something. Sapnap moves closer. George pushes him back. “Falling in love, dumbass. I was in love with you before I even realized it was love I was feeling.” He keeps his hand in front of him, a visible barrier between him and Sapnap. “Am feeling.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Sapnap asks. “What are you so afraid of?”

George doesn’t reply.

“It’s only as complicated as you let it be,” Sapnap says. “I’m—we’re—we’re in love with each other, George.” His voice is firm. George finally meets his eyes. Dark and inscrutable as ever. Sapnap is in love with him. “Isn’t that enough? Just for right now, tell me it isn’t enough.”

George moves, a mirror image of the him in Sapnap’s dorm on Tuesday months ago, bringing their lips together and kissing Sapnap with purpose. When he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed and his eyes sparkle. “I can’t. I can’t tell you it isn’t enough. But I won’t say it’s not either.”

“I love you,” Sapnap says, reflex. He presses a kiss to George’s lips, presses one to his cheeks, his chin, nose, forehead. “I love everything about you.”

“You too,” George says. “I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“You don’t need to know,” Sapnap replies. “Just love me. Be in love with me.”

George’s fingers twist in the fabric of his hoodie, pull him closer. Their noses touch and Sapnap feels every single one of George’s breaths on his lips. They’re heavy. So are his own. When George speaks, he may as well be putting the words directly into Sapnap’s mouth, the two of them working as one. “I love you,” he says, and so does Sapnap. “I love you and being with you and being in love with you.”

“It won’t be perfect,” Sapnap says. (So does George.)

“But it doesn’t need to be.” George seals their lips together. He’s right. Neither of them need it to be perfect. Nor, Sapnap thinks, as George wraps an arm around his neck, draws him closer, holds him tighter, do either of them want it to be.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 11 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 3K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

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{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

Plans For The Future

You're seated on your knees, on the floor, before the coffee table where several sheets of paper are scattered around. The possibilities for your future. You left the League in the cave to discuss their business and came up here to do this. But it's been twenty minutes since you wrote down the last option, and you're still clueless.

“Any luck?” Barry is suddenly seated across from you, the wind he makes with he's speed messing with the papers. But he quickly gathers them again.

“No,” you mutter, feeling a little defeated. Seconds later the others are here too, and as if they were told to, they sit all around the coffee table, on the floor. Expect for Bruce, who sits on the couch, his legs near you.

“Isn't there anything you would like to do?”

“I can't really picture myself doing anything.” Running a hand through your hair, you sigh.

“You were so excited about it in the cave. What changed?" Diana asks, and you notice how everyone seems focused on you. In the last week, since they got back from Washington, the League seems very interested in you. There's a lot of effort to make you feel comfortable, and engage you in their conversations.

“Am I going crazy or are you guys like... Trying to make me get used to normal human interaction again?” Crossing your arms, you have your answer by the way they all exchange a glance and then stare at Bruce. “I knew it.”

“How did you find out?”

“Well, right now everyone is literally seated around the coffee table with me. Except for this weirdo here.” You elbow Bruce's leg, making Barry and Arthur giggle. “You're planning to take me out, aren't you?”

“You're very perceptive.” He says as he moves to seat on the floor with you, an arm around your shoulders. “I've been thinking about it for a while.”

“Do you think I can deal with the real world?” You ask him in a lower voice. You haven't been on the streets yet, and you're not sure how you'll feel among the people.

“Yes, I do.”

“You know people will think Bruce Wayne has a girlfriend, right? If we go out and you do things like hold my hand...” You bet it won't take half an hour for his name to be on the headlines again, and the news channels will talk about it. The world will know about your existence, and every girl who has her eyes on Bruce will know they lost their chance. “You'll have to keep a distance.”

“(Y/N), we're dating. I won't keep that a secret so yes, people will have to find out eventually.” He places a soft kiss on your nose before his lips connect to yours.

“Uhm... We're still here...” Barry mutters, reminding you of the public.

Weird how it only took half a second for you to forget you have company. “So... Now that I know why you guys are still around, help me find something to major in.”

“Let's see what you have here.” Diana starts, and everyone takes a piece of paper or two. “Doctor?”

“Nope. That was just a joke.” Bending over the table a little, you take the paper from her hand. “Moving on.”

“Nurse," Arthur says.

“Vet.” Clark reads.

“All jokes.” Wanting something isn't enough, you have to feel like you can do it. And you don't think you can.

“If you become a nurse you could patch him up.” Arthur gestures at Bruce who nods.

“Sweetheart if this is what you want you just need to say and I'll help you.”

“Me? A nurse? No way, it's too much for me. I need something easier.” You're not saying you're stupid, but why put effort into something on which you'll probably fail? No need to hurt your feelings.

“So you don't think you're smart enough?” Clark asks and you nod.

“If you weren't smart you wouldn't have survived this long as a criminal. And wouldn't have escaped the prison twice. Or fooled the Joker so many times.” Bruce says, and you tilt your head to the side a little, thinking. It did take some brain to do this stuff, calculations, memorization, and some random knowledge.

“It looks like this is what you want,” Arthur mumbles, elbows on the coffee table.

Nurses help people, and that's the exact opposite of what you did. You never really enjoyed hurting people though, at least not normal civilians.

“Yeah... I've been thinking about being a practitioner nurse.”

“You've been doing some research on the subject then.” Wonder Woman raises an eyebrow.

“Yes. They can diagnose diseases, initiate treatments, and prescribe medications. They're more independent.” Shrugging your shoulders, you lean closer to Bruce. “But I don't know. Maybe we should keep looking into the other options.” Pretending you're not insecure is useless. Building a life is both exciting and terrifying.

“No. I guess we found what you want to do.” Bruce says and kisses your cheek. You bite back a smile, but it escapes anyway. “Anything as long as you're happy.”

“I can die in peace now,” Arthur says, and everyone turns their heads to look at him. He simply gestures at you and Bruce as if it would explain everything. “I lived enough to see Batman being soft with someone. The rest of my life will be dull.”

It took long enough for the funny comments to start. “Let the man be, Arthur. Everyone softens when they find love.” Diana adds.

“Aren't you a little too young to be dating Bruce actually?” Barry asks, shrugging his shoulders. “Just-just saying.”

“I haven't really thought about that,” you say.

“I have,” Bruce admits.

“Obviously. In this relationship you're the morals part.” You start gathering the sheets of paper, making a small pile. “I'm the impulse part.”

“Impulse part?”

“I did kiss you out of impulse. I was trying to control myself for quite a while but the thought of another suicide mission finally made me give in.” Looking at him, you smirk. “What would you do if I didn't kiss you before the mission? Were you planning to tell me about your feelings?”

“Shouldn't we discuss that in private?” He raises an eyebrow, and you give the guys a glance before looking back at Bruce.

“We don't mind. Go on.” Barry mutters, getting an annoyed stare from Diana.

“Let's give them some time." She says before getting up. The others soon follow, but Barry is the last.

“The fast one seems very curious about Batman's love life,” you say in a sassy tone when you're left alone.

“He turned the mission in Washington a nightmare the moment I mentioned you.” Bruce moves closer, caressing your cheek.

“And how was that?”

“I told them we had to make it as quick as possible because I had someone to go back to.” He places a soft kiss on your lips and you can't help but smile. You can't believe that someone was you. “Then he just wouldn't let it go. And yes, I was planning on telling you how I felt.”

“What would you do if the feeling wasn't mutual?” Wrapping your arms around his neck, you move to sit on his lap.

“I was pretty sure you felt something for me.”

“Really? I was trying so hard to hide it.”

“Miss Quinzel. Master Bruce. Dinner is served.” Alfred announces and you're just about to stand up when Bruce lifts you up with him.

“Because that will make Barry stop sassing at you,” you tell him, not even bothering to ask him to put you down. He can carry you all the way he wants. It feels funny though, and good to float like this. But the best part is how close your faces are, so you take the chance to kiss him as he takes you to the dining room.

Dinner goes on very well. The chattering is constant, and you manage to get into the conversations. You do feel like you're getting along with the League. Maybe you'll do well with other people too. If you can deal with the supers, you can deal with regular humans. It gives you hope, makes you a little more excited to go out. For dessert, you have brownies, one of your favorites, with vanilla ice cream.

“(Y/N), you said something about a suicide mission?” Barry asks after Diana gives you more details about the Washington mission. “What was that about?”

“Yeah... It was a terrorist attack in New Mexico. They mounted a base there but we never knew their plans.”

“They send you in a mission completely in the dark?” Diana furrows her eyebrows.

“We're the Suicide Squad. Well, that's what we call ourselves. The official name is Task Force X.” You move in the chair a little, but you notice you're not as uncomfortable as you were before talking about it. Bruce says you have to accept who you were in order to be free to restart. Trying to ignore it will only allow the past to haunt you. “When the soldiers can't deal with it but it's still not bad enough to call the heroes, they send us. The whole point is that it doesn't matter if we die in the process. The order is to finish the mission. We're... Spendable.”

“I never heard of anything like that,” Clark says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nobody is supposed to know. But it doesn't matter anymore. The mission was a success and I'd be fine with it if the guards didn't beat me up on my way back here.” You say it without really noticing what it means, but by the way they exchange glances with each other, there are questions in their heads. “Some of them knew me from Belle Reve. So they knew I was going back somewhere they wouldn't be able to punish me for my crimes. They said it was a taste from home.”

“Everyone who was in that van was fired.” Bruce's voice is heavy with anger. “And I doubt they'll get any other job in Gotham.”

“If you're in prison to pay for your crimes, why did they beat you? Isn't the confinement the punishment?” Barry raises his eyebrows, and Arthur nods.

“Uhm... Yes. In any other prison, yes. But Belle Reve is different. It's like we're not on Earth anymore they... They can do pretty much anything they want. Every man and woman who acts as our guards are military or ex-military. Soldiers... And they have so much hate for us.” The memories come back in flashes of lightning, flooding your mind. The pain is still a vivid dream, the darkness is still terrorizing. “I can only speak for myself but I'm sure almost everyone who gets there tries to fight, to run away. I did. And maybe... Maybe I deserved it, maybe what they did was right.”

“(Y/N), don't you think for a second that you deserved what they did to you. Just because someone is a criminal doesn't give them the reason to treat you like an animal.” Bruce takes your hand over the table, and you smile to feel his fingers brushing against the soft skin of the back on your hand.

“They don't treat animals like they treat us.” The acknowledgment is dark and heavy, and you feel as the atmosphere gets tense. The League seems uncomfortable, perplexed.

“What the hell happens in that place?” Diana is the first to speak up after several seconds of deep silence.

“I can only tell what happened to me. By the rumors, it depends on who we are. Killercroc, for example, is left alone in a hole on the ground. Me... I always fought back.” Taking a deep breath, you revisit the endless days you spent in hell. The longest year of your life. The terror was usually suffocated by anger, burning rage, but it was always there, creeping through the walls. “I was kept in the dark. The only light source came from the small gap under the door. It had a blueish glow. My cell was open three times a day, at 10 a.m., 04 p.m., and 08 p.m. The two first were to feed me. They put a straw through my nose all the way down to my throat and fed me with some kind yogurt.” You cringe at the memory, a shiver rolling down your spine. “The last one was the shower. If you can call that a shower... They made me take my clothes off and back up into a concrete wall and blast me with water from a hose. If the weather was hot, the water was ice cold... If it was cold, the water was so hot that it burned my skin.” As you speak, Bruce moves his chair closer to you, putting an arm around your shoulders.

“You don't have to tell us anything if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” Clark says in a low voice.

“No, it's ok... It's good to say it. To... Let it out.” Holding it inside has only screwed you up over and over again. Dealing with it alone has isolated you. And you don't want to be alone anymore. “Before or after the shower was usually when the beat me. Men, women... They didn't really mind if they were a 6ft tall man kicking me. The drugs, the... Several different kids of drugs they gave me numbed the pain, but it was worse, at least to me.” The tears are rolling down now, as you're looking at the table, holding Bruce's hand as if he's your anchor. “I knew my body was being broken, sliced, bones being fractured but I only felt the impact. It's a psychological torture they play alongside the physical one. They liked to know that I was feeling my body being hurt, but I could never feel it... The drugs never wore off, so they never treated to my wounds. I was always left there, in my cell, as the blood dried, as the darkness threatened to suffocate me but I always told myself I was Havoc. I was freaking Havoc and I did not only deserve that, but I also could deal with it. That I was used to the pain...”

“Alright, that's enough.” Bruce raises his voice, and you notice you were yelling. He pulls you close and you hide your face in the crook of his neck.

“I speak for everyone here when I say we're very sorry for everything you've been through,” Diana says, and you feel a hand on your shoulder. When you look up, you see that not only her but all the others are standing around you and Bruce. “And I'm sorry I brought up such terrible memories.”

“Thank you.” Your voice sounds terribly weak, and Bruce dries off some of the tears with his thumb. When you get up, Diana holds both your hands on hers.

“I want you to know that you have me now. To talk, to ask for help, anything.” Your eyes quickly fly through the others when they nod.

“More than Bruce's friend, you're our friend now,” Arthur says.

“So now you not only have friends but superfriends.” Barry steps ahead and pulls you into a hug. You're surprised at the sudden affection, but it feels nice. The others join you soon, and you're in the middle of a group hug.

Not for a single moment in your life you thought you'd ever had anything like this. “Guys, you know you don't have to do this,” you mutter because you can't help but think you don't deserve it, that you're not the victim. Guess you still have a lot to work on, and Bruce is right to still give you some therapy sessions.

“Of course we do. You're an incredible woman who overcame so much. And you truly seem to want to leave the past behind.”

“Clark's right. You're the proof that villains aren't too far beyond repair.” Arthur says with a smile.

“Thanks again.” You're blushing a little because you think they see you as more than what you are now. But it's good to know they believe you.

An hour later, you're on Bruce's bedroom, getting ready to sleep. You're reading about Gotham's University as Bruce brushes his teeth, getting a little confused by how complicated it seems to be accepted there.

“Bruce, all these papers... I don't know if I have them.” You complain, suddenly losing hope.

“I'll deal with them, don't worry.” He comes to the bed, sitting beside you and resting his back against the pillowy headrest. “Worry about studying.”

“And about the fact I'll be surrounded by people all the time.” You sigh, putting the tablet on the nightstand. “It's still confusing, you know. Terrifying sometimes.” You're used to making people fear you, and when that's not possible, they just hate you. Hurt you. You're not sure how you'd manage to stay in between. To be normal.

“The classes only start next semester, so you'll have some months to get used to people.” Bruce pulls you to lie down, and you lay your head on his chest. “Tomorrow we're going out.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. We'll walk around, buy you some new clothes, eat at a nice restaurant...” He caresses your hair, making it hard to keep your eyes open. “I'll be right there with you, so no need to get anxious.”

“Okay...” Noticing you're a little thirsty, you roll your eyes as you get up. “I need water. Do you want some?”

“No, thanks.”

“I'll be right back.” Crawling out of the bed, you make your way downstairs, straight to the kitchen. You hear low voices, so you walk slower, making sure you won't interrupt anything. When you get there, you see it's Diana and Barry, who's eating your ice cream. “Hey, guys,” you announce yourself.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Diana says as Barry waves with the spoon.

“You know this ice cream is mine, right?” Raising an eyebrow, you try to look mad. It apparently works because he gives an apologetic look and lowers the spoon.

“Sorry.” He mutters as you walk around the island, getting a spoon for yourself, sitting beside him and starting to eat too.

“Relax. It seems that I have to share now.” You keep the sarcastic tone, but Barry still doesn't seem to understand. “I'm joking. You can eat it, it's just ice cream.” You smile when he starts eating again. “Don't you want some, Diana?”

“No, thank you.” She raises the mug she's holding. “I usually just drink some tea before going to sleep.”

“Yeah. I just eat. I need a lot of calories.” Barry says with his mouth full of ice cream. “What about you?”

“Actually I just came to get some water. Bruce is waiting for me upstairs.” You forgot about the water, but now you feel thirsty again, so you get a glass and head to the fridge.

“You guys sleep together?” He asks.

“Barry.” Diana reprimands him, and that makes you giggle a little.

“We share the bed.” Shrugging your shoulders, you speak as you pour some cold water on the glass, closing the fridge and making your way back to where you were seated. “I have... Nightmares. They were more often before, but they still come. But when I'm with Bruce it's just... It's better.” You feel safe, secure, but you're too shy to tell them that. It's too much that you're telling about the nightmares, but it's a good sign that you're able to open up, even if it's just a little bit.

“You love Bruce, don't you?” Diana asks in a low voice.

Looking down at your half-full glass of water, you nod. Love isn't the word you use to express your feelings for Bruce, but that's just because you're way too scared to let those three words flow out. ‘I love you.’ You've been biting your tongue for quite a while now. Those words hold power, you know it, and you're scared that he doesn't feel the same way. “Don't tell him,” you beg, looking up at Diana.

“Why?” As she asks, Barry takes the ice cream and gets up, leaving the kitchen.

“Girl talk.” He mumbles on his way out. And yes, you feel a little more comfortable knowing it's just Diana.

“Because maybe it's too soon and... If he doesn't feel the same I'm afraid it'll push him away.” Your feelings for Bruce only grow, and even though being in love with someone is something new, you know how things should play out. Or you think you do. The fact that he's Batman and you're Havoc, a villain he tried to catch before, only makes everything worse.

“I know Bruce. He would never officialize a relationship if he wasn't one hundred and ten percent sure of his feelings.” She moves from her place at the table to seat across from you on the island. “And I understand that what you did before may get in the way but it only makes me even more sure about his feelings towards you. So yes, I think he loves you and there's no reason for you to be so scared.”

Taking a deep breath, you try to accept that. “How could he love me?” You inquire in a low voice because you can't help but go back, to remember who you were and what you did. You do regret it, and you do want different things now, to have a whole new life. But... Sometimes the fear of losing Bruce hits hard, and you start going back to your shell.

“Why don't you let me answer that?” His voice makes you jump, and you stand up abruptly. Your heart beats so fast that you can hear it on your ears, like drums.

“I'll get some sleep. Good night, (Y/N). Bruce.” Diana stands up and leaves the kitchen, as you stand there, looking at Bruce.

“You weren't supposed to hear any of that,” you mumble.

“But I'm glad I did. Let's head upstairs. We need to talk.” Nodding, you start following Bruce. “I need to make things clear with you, sweetheart.”

×

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker

[sepublic]

The Art Gallery and Mega Maze Car!

           …Goddammit Kez. I really don’t know what I expected, but of course MORGAN wants you dead as well…!

           Also, I called it- Morgan is the castle! Anyhow, RIP to the judge, I really liked her design and was glad she survived the zapper… But then Pig Toddler got interested in the word butter (clever writing for these two unlike things to come together like that), and I knew it was all over! Damn he was terrifying and hilarious, breaching the rubble like a freaking Mosasaur to devour the judge, alas! So much for a peaceful resolution… Also, seems only Pig Toddler and the Bouncer are left. What was up with the Bouncer at the end there? I dunno, but I’m glad the person with an actual family to feed has a new job now; Guarding Morgan might make ends meet and help them reconcile with Kez, or at least decide NOT to kill her…

           Seriously though, that gag with the Bouncer catching them at the end after you forget, only for THAT joke- This show is so funny you guys.

           But, let’s backtrack for a bit… Okay, that Hand Monster was TERRIFYING, and I was lowkey afraid it would join up with the posse after Kez, but thankfully not! But JEEZ, the shadowy hands, the sound design like it’s from the Grudge… And the DESIGN, it’s so visceral and grabby and uncomfortable, like it’s grasping onto and constricting and strangling you, it’s violating, and I LOVE IT! It’s SUCH a metal character design, whoever came up with it, I wanna shake your hand, and maybe even kiss you! I’ll have to plagiarize- I mean, TAKE INSPIRATION FROM, this type of superb peak character design later down the line!

           But seriously, with how it’s made of hands, and one of them has a number on it… Does this denizen like; KILL passengers, and add to its mass with their numbered hands; The higher the number, the better? I’d suggest it aggravates passengers, but Min and Ryan seemed to agree that it didn’t ACTUALLY influence them, this was just all them going out… That, or it enabled them to say what was on their minds the entire time! Oof, that thing gave me heebie-jeebies, but also…

           THIS is a character-heavy dump, let’s go into it! It seems Min and Ryan are afraid of being the other… But they also want to BE the other as well! And Min, he’s got abandonment issues, which makes sense- He’s clearly a more anxious and reserved person and an only child… But Ryan doesn’t think people will miss him because he feels like he’s always overlooked, that he has to earn attention! He doesn’t think Min cares that much about him, and vice-versa… Oof, love that trope, the tragedy of such misunderstanding because of insecurity and self-loathing, thinking you’re not good enough! And damn, Min really broke at the end there, thinking Ryan had abandoned him…

           I do wish Kez had cleared up that the Art Gallery Car would NOT let Ryan back inside and even silenced him, but like. It still opens how he feels in general, and it led to some honest discussion in the Mega Maze Car, so it’s fine… Love you Kez, you adorable weirdo just screaming and weirding out even this hand-monster! I love how she’s SUCH a shameless freeloader, but she also serves to lighten the mood, and she’s something Ryan and Min can BOTH agree upon! She’s the glue that holds the trio together, I love and adore Kez…

           But back to Ryan and Min! Like I suspected, being in a large family, Ryan feels ignored and undervalued, just another face in the crowd, so he wants to be somebody… And Min, he didn’t want to go off and abandon things, he felt Ryan wasn’t taking him into enough consideration; But maybe he also hoped that Ryan would see that Min wasn’t ready, and then stay for him? And then it broke his heart when he went on anyway… And Ryan, he thinks Min is looking down on him, and in a sense it’s like… They WANT to be one another in some ways, but are also afraid of that? Ryan wants to be more level-headed, Min more bold, but not to the extent that it becomes negative, because they can see the good AND bad in each other’s traits!

           Min is kind of jealous of Ryan’s boldness and more fun life… And it’s like, these two can’t progress until they learn to respect one another’s decisions and places in life more, to recognize their own decisions, etc.? To not look down on each other, to think they have to guide the other and look after them… Hence Ryan saying initially that Min is just ‘dead weight’ to him, because he still wants to be his own person and individual and live his own life, so maybe he doesn’t need Min anyway?

           And Min, he’s amazed at how Ryan can be so bold and be himself, but Min, like he said- He’s tired of faking things, pretending he’s fine when he’s not, that he’s okay with this… And he gets an outlet to admit how he feels aloud, instead of trying to be calm and level-headed about it! Min’s just having this identity crisis, figuring out who he is… Ryan probably thinks he’s secretly dumb, Min’s belittling didn’t help, as did Ryan admitting he could never get into university. Ryan doesn’t feel respected, and it’s just AMAZING how… How each has a trait that can easily be both the best and worst of them at the same time! It’s SUCH good writing… Min feels left behind from taking things too slowly, and Ryan keeps moving forward so he can stand out; One wants companionship from being alone, the other wants to be an individual and recognized!

           Min thinks that Ryan complicates things, that HE’s the one making them difficult, and Ryan feels like he’s being dragged down and discouraged, that he has to pull Min along, because he DOES care and wants him; And they think they’re the others’ caretaker. Ryan wants HELP, he wants support, and he feels like he gives it to Min, but Min doesn’t reciprocate and instead just tells him his ideas are dumb. And it’s this duality of Min wanting conformity and safety, belonging, while Ryan is sick of that and wants adventure, risk, individuality and to stand out after being overlooked, to be free and not weighed down! It’s fascinating, they’re like mirrors of one another, if one were a denizen I’m SURE Mace would get a kick out of this…!

           Overall, this was a really weighty pair of episodes. It helped us get into the meat and confrontation of their emotions, of their issues; The darkest parts, their low point. But they say after the low point comes the triumphant rise, hopefully… If Min and Ryan are about two coming together and becoming whole again, it could contrast with Amelia, who is missing her other half; Let’s hope it does! I’ve never seen passengers constantly go back and forth, relapsing, tugging on the progress on opposite ends- Really conveys the frustration of two people whose numbers are together, bound, like a three-legged race.

           And, well, we’re on it- The final pair of episodes! And possibly our last episodes yet, EVER… This might be the last time I see a new Infinity Train episode. Here’s to the final destination, guys… Our journey might be over, maybe not. There’s more to the journey than just the destination, but eventually you always get there; All things, inevitably, come to an end.

[parkertech]

Tattoos & Tears - CHAPTER 1

a/n: on everybody's 18th birthday, they get a tattoo of their soulmate written on their wrist. for you, it's your best friend who you thought you got over. who even has a girlfriend of his own.

warnings: swearing

———————————————————————

It had been exactly a month since the trip to Europe. You spent the entire week by yourself, isolating yourself from Peter. You didn't want to, but after seeing him kiss MJ on the bridge, seeing your crush since the 7th grade kiss another girl, your heart shattered. He sent countless texts, but you ignored them all. If you even thought about him, the tears came out like a waterfall and the aching in your chest became stronger.

By the time the week was almost over, you realized something. Despite the jealousy, insecurity, and overall terrible feelings you felt, you realized Peter was happy with MJ. And all you wanted for him was to be happy. So, you sucked it up, and shoved your feelings down.

You came back to school happier than ever. You convinced yourself Peter was just a crush that didn't work out. To your surprise, life was easier like that. When you were introduced to MJ, you found out you had a lot more in common than you thought. You didn't feel a ping of jealousy when Peter and MJ kissed or hugged or showed any sort of PDA. You just rolled your eyes playfully and complained about them being cute.

Eventually, even Ned had his own girlfriend—Betty Brant. Betty joined you and MJ, and all of you became a trio. Everything was perfect.

And everything brought you to right now. You were walking to your house with Betty and MJ, you being in between them, chatting about the usual. Until Betty brought it up.

"Wait...isn't it your birthday soon, Y/N?" She said a little shocked. Your eyes widened along with MJ's.

"Holy shit you're right! I have only a week left!"

"And then you get to find out who your soulmate is!" Everyone's 18th birthday, was their famous day. Not only because you became basically an adult and almost graduated high school, but it was also because your tattoo would come. It would reveal the love of your life.

"Who do you think it could be?" MJ spoke up. You shrugged your shoulders while thinking.

"Maybe Aiden in Physics?" Betty sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. "What? I think he's cute and has potential! Plus we went on a few dates that weren't half bad."

"Oh please, Aiden? We all know who it really is, Y/N." She gave you an obvious look, and you just shook your head with a confused expression. "Brad Davis!" It was your turn to roll your eyes.

"What, you don't think he's cute?" MJ asked a little shocked.

"It's not that! I just...I don't know..." Okay, you had a tiny crush on Brad. But you never admitted it. Because he kind of became a player after the blip. Every girl found him hot, and leeched onto him. Which kind of started his reputation. You didn't want to be one of those girls, but you couldn't help it with his soft hair and gentle, yet mischievous smile. Not to mention, his muscles....

"Oh, please! You do know! It's gonna be him, I bet $100!" Betty exclaims.

"Well then I bet $100 it's Aiden. Just to compete." MJ counters. You giggled at the both of them as they finalized their bet. All three of you eventually made it to your apartment, and said your last goodbyes. You rushed to your room and spent a few hours on your phone, before getting to the more important things. In the middle of your homework, you heard a tapping at your window. You knew it was Peter before you even saw his familiar, bright smile behind the window. You hopped off your bed with a matching one, and opened the window for him.

"Whatcha doin' here, Spidey?" Peter didn't go to your window often, since usually at this time he'd be with MJ.

"MJ's at a peaceful protest and I'm bored out of my mind." He replied matter-of-factly. You rolled your eyes before moving aside and letting him climb in your room. He dropped his backpack on the floor before leaning over your bed and landing face first into the mattress. You chuckled a little before doing the same thing. He then fixed himself so he was on his back, and you turned so you were on his side.

"Someone's getting old in a few days!" Peter said sing-songy. You groaned before burying your face into your blanket at the mention of your special day.

"I knowww! God, I'm not ready." He chuckled at your response.

"Whoever your soulmate is, if he hurts you even once, I'm kicking his ass." Peter said firmly. You raised your eyebrows at him, a little surprised at his word choice and confidence.

"Whoa, who knew Peter Parker had the balls to want to actually kick someone's ass?" Peter just gave you an unimpressed look.

"Shut uuup! I'd totally be able to. I can stop criminals, for fucks sake." He countered. You scoff at him before sitting up.

"Speaking of my birthday, of course I'm gonna have a party, and it's mandatory that you come." Peter rolled his eyes while you put on a puppy face you know he couldn't resist. It always worked, whether it was asking for your favorite candy from Delmar's, or help with homework.

"Y/N...you know how I feel about parties..." Peter started. But you interrupted him.

"Nu uh! You're going! It's a necessity! No refunds, nada!" Peter realized there was no out on this, which caused him to groan a little. You sat there, expectantly waiting on an answer. Peter dragged it out, creating more suspense.

"Fine...only because it's you though." You squealed and gave him a bone crushing hug. Peter found himself hugging you back, and hiding his face in your neck. He could smell your perfume, and almost took a good amount of air to get a better smell. But that was weird. That's what weirdos do.

The rest of the night was spent watching Star Wars movies, cracking jokes, and Peter's constant complaining about your party. You constantly reassured him you'd make sure he would have a fun time, but that didn't stop him from dreading the event. Your fun ended when he got a text from MJ saying that she was back from her protest and wanted him to spend the night. Peter sighed a little loudly, which snapped your attention from the movie to him.

"What's wrong?" You asked in slight concern.

"MJ's back. I gotta go..." Peter felt a little guilty honestly. He barely spent time with you like this, and you were always so understanding. He didn't want to leave. Tomorrow was always another day, but this is his girlfriend. Everyone knows how the girlfriend feels about the girl best friend. But MJ wasn't like that, right?

"Oh, okay..." You didn't mean to sound so sad, but you knew how rare this was just as much as Peter.

Then a weird ache came back in your chest. You cleared your throat, holding your heart while Peter furrowed his eyebrows at you.

"You okay over there?" You nodded and waved him off despite how much it seemed to knot up.

"Yeah, I think it's just heartburn or something." You felt your cheeks flushing and grabbed the cold glass of water on your bedside table and took a big gulp. Peter kept eyeing you in confusion, but nonetheless kept packing up his things and opened your window.

"Okay, well...see you in History tomorrow?" He asked as his leg was resting on your carpet and the fire escape.

"Yeah, you're acting like we don't go to the same school, stupid!" You both shared a little laugh, and then you felt a weird wave in your stomach. Your face fell a little, but not enough to be noticed. You both exchanged one last goodbye before Peter was heading down your fire escape back to his house, where MJ was waiting.

On his way home, Peter felt a weird tugging at his heart. He found himself missing you, more than usual. It was probably because you two didn't spend after school hours with each other in a while. Right? Right.

You on the other hand, were wondering why your body was reacting that way to Peter. It's how you used to react to him when you had feelings for him. But you didn't anymore. You didn't. Have. Feelings. For Peter Parker. Even if you did, he's in love with MJ. And you can't do that to MJ. So there it is. Problem solved.

Letting out a long heavy sigh from your thoughts, you changed from your school clothes and put on a hoodie with some sweatpants. You turned off your bedside lamp before getting in your bed, pulling up the blanket to the middle of your ears. Your thoughts were still on how you reacted to Peter today. But you said it yourself. You got over him.

Peter is nothing more than a friend.

But there was a tiny voice that you tried to silence at the back of your mind.

Are you saying it because it's true, or saying it to convince yourself?

———————————————————————

Taglist 🏷: (you can always ask to be here!)

@marvel4geeks

[amazingdriverfics]

hii, can i request a fic where reader is sackler’s gf and she constantly worried that adam still has feelings for Jessa/Hannah and he always reassures her. But after coming early from a trip to surprise him with a gift (an expensive watch with their anniversary and initials engraved at the back) she catches him making out with Jessa/Hannah in their apartment? Sad ending please, but with a time skip of reader moving on and meeting (cross over moment) with another Adam driver character? Thank you!

A/N: Hey love, I hope you are doing fine. I know this took me a while (just like everything lately), but I wrote this with much love. Two of my favorite characters are in here and so I hope that you can feel the double of love, although Sackler will fuck things up…

Anyway, hope you like it. Sending you love.

Warnings: bi reader (just a mention), alcoholism, addiction, mention to toxic relationships and cheating.

My masterlist

When you met Adam Sackler you should have known better, you really should, but you saw so much of yourself in him and you wanted to help him so very much that you were blinded.

You first met him in a AA meeting, he was clearly devastated and as he spoke about his last relationship, it felt like you heard your own story from a couple of years ago coming off his mouth and it was like a light had surfaced inside of you and you just knew you had to find a way to help the man.

As soon as the meeting was over you made your way to the huge figure, confident that this would do you just as good as it would do to him. And so as he drank water by the door you got closer, gently calling his name.

Even though when he turned your way you were quickly astonished by how pretty Adam was, your intention at first had nothing to do with romance, you just wanted to be there for him.

You talked to him for a bit about your last relationship with a girl name Heather and how just, as he had said in the meeting, you were super unhealthy to each other, how it was super intense and no matter how much both of you loved one another, how nothing could make things work and how in the last of the relationship it felt like the only thing keeping you both together was the fear of being by yourself. You even told the unknown man how you had started to drink again after things ended until you decided to go back to the meetings.

As you finished the long introduction you invited him for dinner in a place nearby which made your favorite burgers in the area.

The dinner was nice, you got to know him and his story better, how the addiction started in a young age and that he soon realized that he needed to do something about it, how he had been jumping from one unhealthy relationship to another, how he had been struggling to sobriety since things ended between him and his ex-girlfriend named Jessa and how he felt so completely alone.

With every word he spoke, the more you saw yourself in him and, therefore, the more you convinced yourself that you could definitely avoid that the man had to go through all the terrible situations you had after things ended with Heather.

From there, your friendship evolved quite quickly, Adam was truly a lonely person and you made the effort to go and meet him whenever he asked you to. Hanging out with the man was fun, although he was a little bit of a weirdo and sometimes did some questionable things, you really enjoyed his company.

The real problem was that, after a couple of months being kind of his rock, your feelings started to get in the way of things and you knew that if you made a move you could ruin everything you had built with Sackler. You were completely aware that getting over a relationship like that took a lot of time and suffering and that he was nowhere near the stage in which he was able to date someone else and so you buried your feelings, telling yourself that they would eventually go away.

They didn’t.

Although you never admitted to yourself that your feelings had gone nowhere, they were constantly proving it to you. It was obvious whenever he stood too close to you and your heartbeat fastened, whenever he smiled and you found yourself smiling too just because seeing him happy made you just as happy, whenever you tried to make out with someone else and you just couldn’t bring yourself to really enjoy it and, mostly, whenever you cried alone in your bed because you knew that there was nothing you could do to get him to be with you.

Or so you thought.

Things really reached a turning point when Sackler stopped treating you just like a friend and he started to shamelessly flirt with you whenever and wherever he possibly could - sometimes he would say things so dirty that you felt your cheeks heating up -.

When he made the first move then it felt like you had gone to heaven. You were in his kitchen getting some water since it was super hot in New York and you felt like you would melt in the floor at any minute. You were so hypnotized trying to get your body temperature down that you didn’t even notice Adam sneaking behind you until you felt his bare chest touching your back.

In that moment, you were completely frozen, hyper aware of every inch of his skin that touched yours, but you didn’t know what to do, it truly felt like a dream coming to life. When his lips finally touched yours you thought that if you died in that moment, you would die a happy person, as things progressed and he went down on you, you were sure.

After that, things progressed slowly and you were actually the one to decide that it was the right pace to follow.

Even though you wished that his heart was all yours, you knew that a part of it still belonged to Jessa and knowing that ignoring that fact would just hurt you, you asked him to let things go on as they should, not hurrying anything. He tried to convince you to do otherwise, saying that Jessa was the past and you were the present and future, but you knew better.

At least until then.

The problem with addiction is that some are more obvious like being addicted to drugs or alcohol, you and the people around you tend to notice it kind of quickly, but when you get addicted to someone, things can go a long way before you do anything about it and maybe then it is already too late.

Therefore, you didn’t notice how addicted you were to Adam Sackler until you were crying your way out of the apartment you shared almost two years later.

What at first was something you felt as completely normal didn’t take long to become an insecurity.

Little by little, your world started to be all about Adam, you thought of him through most of your day, you dreamt about him almost everyday and whenever you could be with him, you would be. And so, with the progress of the relationship the thought that he might not feel so intensely for you started to haunt you a lot and it was usually followed by a voice telling you that he would never get over Jessa because you would never be as good as her.

And although you knew rationally that you were way better to him than her and the constant reassurance Sackler gave you, something inside of you could never let it go.

Of course you trusted him and you knew that he loved you back, in his own way he would always make it clear to you about how much you meant to him. He would take you for a run, walk you somewhere, hold you through some crisis and spend a whole day with you in bed if you just asked him to.

Things were really great, you spent a whole year without any major problems before you and him decided to move in together and for a while it was really good for your insecurity, because he would constantly remind you that you were enough for him and that he would never trade what you two had and how you made him feel, but as his work started to demand for him to travel to perform the insecurity kept making its way back in.

Hell broke loose two days before his birthday. You had traveled to Seattle for a family thing and you came back sooner as soon as you found out that the rolex watch you bought for him with both of your initials and anniversary engraved on it - after saving money for months - was ready. You figured that it would be nice to surprise him with the watch before and so you reschedule the flight.

You were so excited on your way back to him that you could barely stop smiling, you couldn’t stop picturing his perfect face when he saw the gift and just the thought made you tear up a bit from sheer happiness.

You didn’t suspect anything, not even as you got near the door listening to some strange noises, you were too much in your head, too excited to think about anything else other than opening that stupid door and kissing him deeply before surprising him.

As the door opened finally, the one to truly surprise the other one was Adam.

He had his eyes closed and his mouth attached to someone with long blond hair which was in his lap, her legs straddling him as her pelvis moved on top of his.

You were totally shocked, not a noise left your mouth and the only sound that announced your present to your boyfriend and his guest was the sound of the package holding the most expensive thing you had ever bought someone hit the ground. You watched as she jumped out of his lap and his guilty eyes met yours, but you could only focus on her face as you remembered the picture he had shown you years ago in the burger place, it was Jessa.

“y/n” you heard his deep voice, but you just couldn’t move as the tears streamed down your face and you kept looking at her.

Adam repeated your name getting closer and taking his hand to your wrist, the touch waking you up. You took your eyes off of her and turned to him, the hurt in you becoming too much. There was nothing that he could do or say to fix the situation and you had nothing to say to him.

With trembling hands you got off his touch and grabbed the present on the floor, handling it to him before saying ‘happy birthday’ and leaving the place. You could get your things some other day.

——————————————————————————

You weren’t going to lie, it felt almost like a part of you had died that night and you had almost gone back to drinking once again, but eventually things got better.

You started to go to therapy, you finally opened a cafeteria and bookstore like you had always dreamt and after you got your things off of his apartment, you never saw Adam again.

The first time you thought of dating once again was when you saw a tall man, with medium length black hair and a pretty face in your store. He walked in holding hands with his son and as you watched him talk so sweetly to the boy, your heart warmed up a bit.

After that day he started coming more and more, sometimes with his Henry, as Charlie had told you the little boy was called, and sometimes without him whenever he was with his mother.

The first time he had shown interest in you was when he told you that his theater company was on the other side of the street and that he could never say no to a good cup of coffee, a good book and a good company causing you to blush right away. And he kept his word, there wasn’t a day where he wouldn’t pass by, even if it was just for 5 minutes.

Two months after coming to the shop for the first time, Charlie finally asked you out on a date and as you said yes, you couldn’t help feeling that he might just be the one.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

1.2

You sit at the kitchen counter and flip through Vogue magazine. The children were all at school by now and Jaehyun had driven them there. Only Miga was still there since she had a shoot for a K-Drama today and it didn't start until a little later. You take a sip of your coffee when Miga suddenly came to you and hugged you with the corners of your mouth pulled down. "Mummy..." She sighed and put her head on your shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?" You put your hand on her head and stroke her a little. Even though Miga was so big and grown up, she was still your baby. "Why are guys always such idiots?" She sighed and then sat up again. You look into her sad face and it hurt to see her hurt. "I know it's not easy, but you will find someone who treats you right." You smile gently and stroke her hair aside. "I just want to have a relationship like you and Daddy." "Hmm ... the relationship between me and your Dad was very difficult at the beginning. Any healthy person wouldn’t have continued this. We put a lot of work into the relationship and have only matured over time. But I would not recommend this to you. Better find someone who treats you well from the start. " You smile gently, but Miga didn't quite understand. She knew part of the story but not everything. Jaehyun regrets some of the things he had done in the past and he doesn't want his children to use that as a role model. "That means daddy wasn't good to you?" Miga was a bit shocked and you didn't want to take the picture from her. "I just want to say that the relationship was never perfect." You smile and take another sip of the coffee. Miga then sighed and played nervously with her fingers. "Tell me, does your heartache have something to do with Sunoh?" You know your son too well and you knew that Jaehyun taught his sons to protect the women here. "Mum, I don't want Sunoh to get in trouble because of me, but I can't tell Daddy that I was dating an idiot for a short time." You could feel her insecurity and you could understand her in this topic. "Can you tell me the whole story? I promise I won't tell your Dad." You smile gently and Miga nodded. She told you the full story and you weren't surprised at all. Sunoh had inherited all of the aggression and emotional instability from his father. "I don't know if I should be angry or glad that Sunoh hit him." You have been worried about Miga lately. She was very popular with men and in public. She became a beautiful woman, but that made her vulnerable at the same time. "Mum please, Dad always says if anything is there to protect you and me, he shouldn’t hesitate. He just wanted to help and protect me." Miga really just tried to help her brother and you thought it was cute that she stood up for him so much. "I know, I think I already know how to talk to your Dad." You smile and Miga hugged you. "Thanks mom, you're the best."

For Chichi, it wasn't funny that she had to change school. While her friends stayed in the old school, she came to the new one. She was shy anyway and found it difficult to make new friends. She was with Sunoh the same year, but he couldn't always be there. For example in physical education. It was not easy for her. She was petite, almost childish, and many of the girls couldn't take her seriously. No one spoke to her, but Chichi noticed also that she could hardly find a connection. Especially during the lunch break when she was sitting alone. Her little heart broke when nobody wanted to eat with her, but then she saw Sunoh. He came in her direction with the tablet when a group of boys called to him. "Hey Sunoh, sit down with us." Chichi saw that the group consisted of pretty good looking guys, maybe future idols too, they definitely seemed to recognize Sunoh. "Sorry no interest." Sunoh already wanted to go on, but still heard someone calling him weirdo. But he ignored this and came to Chichi's table. "Hey," he said then and sat next to her. Chichi smiled shyly and her cheeks flushed. "Why didn't you want to sit down with them? They seem pretty cool." She looked worriedly at her plate, but didn't touch any of her food. "They're just idiots." He sighed and started eating his food. Chichi watched him, but she couldn't bring a bite down herself. Then he stopped and looked at the girl. "Why don't you eat anything?" He asked, turning to Chichi. She just shrugged. Then Sunoh turned back to his tablet, took the salmon and put it on Chichi's tablet. "You like salmon. Eat at least that, okay?" He looked worriedly at her and Chichi softened and nodded.

Chichi didn't feel like going home after her ballet training. She didn't feel well and just wanted to sleep. But Sana, Yuta's wife and her stepmother, was trying to build a better relationship with her, but Chichi found it difficult to open up to her. Sana and Yuta have been together for 6 years and have been married for 4 years. "Hey Chichi, how was school?" Yuta smiled when he saw his daughter come into the apartment. "It was okay." She sighed and put down her backpack. "Hello Chichi." Sana came to her and smiled. "Hi Sana, Hi Asami." She strokes the toddler's head in Sana's arms. Asami was the half sister of Chichi. She was the daughter of Yuta and Sana. After they got married, they decided to have another child. It had taken Yuta a long time to finally trust a woman again and with Sana he could finally start again. "Chichi ..." said the little two year old girl and started giggling. It was really cute because the toddler loved her big sister. Chichi then kissed her on the cheek, but then went to her room because she still had to do homework. But the pain in her abdomen, which she had had all day, was getting worse. And when she went to the bathroom, she was surprised by something she had been waiting for. She was pretty late with it, but now she finally had her period. But what was she doing now? She couldn't go to her father and somehow didn't want to go to Sana. She had no problem with her, she liked her, but it was still uncomfortable for her. So she dialed the number of the person who was closest to her for a mother. "Y/N?" She asked when she heard your voice. "Hey Chichi, are you okay?" You could hear how worried she was. "I ... I think ... well ... I think I got my period." She sighed and was a little desperate. "Ohh, now you're a woman." You laugh lightly and Chichi also had to giggle a little. "Do you have some pads here?" You ask, but Chichi shook his head. "No, I searched but found nothing." "Did you ask Sana?" "No, but I don't want to ask her. It's so uncomfortable for me." Chichi's heart pounded and she didn't want to leave the bathroom. "Okay okay. I think Miga will be home soon, I'll call her and tell her to come over with a few pads without being noticed. Is that okay for you?" You knew that Chichi also trusted your daughter and it wasn't a problem for the girl that Miga would come over.

It wasn't long before Miga knocked on the door. Yuta opened in surprise, but Chichi came running towards her. "She is only there for a short time," she said and pulled Miga into her room, who was holding a small bag in her hand. "You don't have to be embarrassed. It's something completely normal." Miga smiled gently when she came into the room. "I know, but somehow I’m." Chichi's shoulders fell and her shy side came out. But Miga smiled and started to clear things out of the bag. "Look, here you have pads that will help you first. But since you dance a lot of ballet, I brought you tampons. They are difficult for the beginning, but they will make your life easier. And then I have you brought some tea to help them hurt. I don't know how much it really works, but Mum always gave it to me and she drinks it whenever she has her period. And do you have a thermophore? Warmth also helps the cramps. " Chichi tried to follow her and collected everything. "Thanks, Miga," she said shyly and quietly. She was glad that she was there.

You are standing in the laundry room and sorting the dirty laundry. Unbelievable how much accumulates every day with 4 children. It always surprised you. But suddenly the door opened and Jaehyun entered. "Hey, I didn't hear that you came home." You smile and see how he came up to you. "I was very quiet because I wanted to go to you first." He stood behind you and put his hands on your hip and gently kissed your neck. "Do you want something special from me?" You grin while you stop folding the laundry. "Mmmm I wanted to know if you already think about it." The question of another baby was still in the room. Jaehyun desperately wanted another child while you were still unsure. "I don't know yet, we finally have more time for us." You sigh because it wasn't easy. On the one hand, a baby would be super cute, but on the other hand, you also enjoy life with Jaehyun. "I know, but I also like to make sweet and beautiful babies with you." Jaehyun grinned as he buried his face on your neck. His hands went under your shirt and up to your breasts. With his hips he pressed you more against the washing machine and this caused the vibration of it to excite you more. "Jaehyun ...", you moan softly, because you couldn't utter more words. "I'm already so hard and I wanted to do this with you all day long," Jaehyun whispered in your ear and gripped your breasts more firmly. It got really hot between you and you were more than ready for him. But the next moment you hear Sunoh calling for you. "Mum?" You hear his voice and Jaehyun quickly pulled his hands out of your shirt and just hugged you from behind so he could cover his bulge. "Yuck, can't you stop being cringe?" Sunoh sighed when he was in the room and Jaehyun had to laugh. "Sunoh, what do you want? I don't think you want to do the laundry with me?" You look at your son, who rolled his eyes. He was pretty much in puberty right now and you can't blame him for that. "When will we eat?" Whatever happened, since Sunoh was in puberty and growing, he was always hungry, all around the clock. "When your sister is there. It won't be long now," you say and Sunoh then left the room. As soon as the door was closed again, Jaehyun turned your body and pulled you up on the washing machine. Without saying anything, he pressed his lips to yours and his hands went down to your ass. But then you hear again that someone is calling you. "Mummy!" It was Kiwoo and before they came into the room you quickly jump off the washing machine. "Mummy! Geon doesn't let me play and it wasn't my turn yet." You had so many game consoles at home, but the twins always thought they wanted to play the same thing. "Geon," you call your other son and a few seconds later he was there. "Either you look for games that you can play in pairs or you let Kiwoo play now. If this continues, I'll take the console away from you two." You were relatively strict. Geon nodded and the twins ran away again. You turn back to Jaehyun and close the door. He looked at you desperately, but you wanted to continue. "Are you still hard?" You walk up to your husband and gently grab his crotch. "A little bit." He grinned and searched your lips again. But in the next second you hear how Miga came. "I'm back," your daughter called into the room and Jaehyun put his head back and sighed. "Do you really want another child?" You wink and grin broadly while Jaehyun tries to collect. "I'll start cooking." You laugh and go out of the room.

[make-me-imagine]

Hello love ♡

First of all, I want to congratulate you on your 5500 follower milestone! That's incredible♡! I love your writings, Mera, and I think that your ship celebration is a wonderful idea!

Could I please request a male matchup for Marvel, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings/Hobbit? With the additional "What you did for your first date" and "Ways they show you they love you without words" headcanons for all three of them? I'm female, she/her.

To begin with, I'm full of contradictions, utterly boring, very insecure and highly complicated. I would say my strongest personality traits are my kindness, calmness and sympathy. It's almost impossible to scare or upset me, because I always see the good in a person and recognize where anger, frustration and despair come from. There's no cruelty in me at all. I'm open and impartial towards everything and everyone, without any judgment or prejudice. I also have a calming/grounding effect on other people and animals, which is great because I honestly love all sorts of animals (I'm also a vegetarian because I refuse to intentionally hurt any animal). I have a faszination for chaos and rebellion, but am quite submessive/timid and a clean-/control freak myself. I'm always well-meaning and there to help others. I despise people who enjoy the suffering of others, just because they have the 'power' to. I'm very open-minded and I think that every opinion matters and that whatever someone has to say is important, at least to them and therefore for me. I will never ignore someone's sorrows and suffering and I try my hardest to help and comfort as best I can. But, even though I see the good in everything, I'm very insecure myself and have little love and understanding for myself. I have a very bad self-esteem and not a particularly positive self-perception, which mostly defines my actions. It makes me believe that I'm a burden to others and that I annoy them. I feel like I'm not "worthy" of love/there's nothing lovable about me, that there are too many problems in contrast to the little good things. Nevertheless, I would never change myself for anything or anyone, I'm who I'm. For me, dealing and interacting with people is really difficult, because I'm so clumsy and nervous around them and easily feel like I'm making a fool out of myself. Another reason is that I fear to be rejected and thrown aside when someone sees how boring, problematic and annoying I actually am. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I'm; I'm sure you wouldn't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (I'm always wearing only black, have dyed my hair a little and two ear piercings). I almost never like the "typical" heroes and righteous characters. And somehow I have such a undergoing disdain for any figure in the police and law department. Because I'm easily sad and not a funny/joking person, I like and enjoy people who aren't too serious themselves. And I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on and by your side, no matter what. I've always felt like I don't belong anywhere, like I'm the only cat in a room full of dogs. That's probably why I have a soft spot for the weirdos, outcasts, loners and "crazy" ones. Though, in my opinion, the definition of normal, crazy and real are very subjective. My whole life I've felt kinda judged, misunderstood and unwanted. People often falsely think that my unassuming nature is naivity and take my social-insecurity for aloofness and coldness. I'm also quite opinionated and aware of what I want, how I feel and who I am. I'm often questioning my surroundings, the traditions and rules and I have no problem challenging others, even authority. I'm a perfectionist, which often leads me to overthinking and that can be equally good and bad. I'm absolutely clueless in romance and totally oblivious to flirting because I'm 100% inexperienced in this stuff, but I'm a bit of a hopeless romantic.

-Luna 1/2

Hey Luna, I hope you like what I came up with. You provided a bit more information than was necessary lmao, I forgot the word limit for asks was extended. BUT, it was enough to give me a good feel for who to ship you with, so I hope you like them!

All ships are under the cut: 

Marvel: 

I ship you with Clint.

Clint was my immediate thought when reading your information. He is very loyal and kind-hearted and I think would be most drawn to those who are kind, loyal, and have strong morals. He would try his best to show you how great you are through your insecurities, he loves you for who you are and sees no flaws in you. He would be very good at showing his care and love for everything you are. He does not need words to know how you feel as he is very good at seeing through you and knowing what you feel without them.

What you did for your first date: 

You would have a fun yet casual day out date.

First you would go on a walk through a nearby park, talking and joking about everything and nothing. 

Then you would go to a musical instrument museum.

He loves music too, so this would be great for both of you.

You got to see the evolution of music and instruments and listened to various kinds of music.

You spent hours in the museum together.

To finish the date of you went to a restaurant, you chose the place to go too since he knew you were vegetarian and he wanted you to share your favorite place and meals with him. 

Ways they show you they love you without words: 

He loves physical touch as well, so he would often express himself through various physical actions. 

Placing a kiss to the back of your hand, or head. 

Hugging you close to him randomly. 

Wrapping you up in his arms on the couch when watching movies as he randomly kisses the side of your head or face. 

Best Friend: 

I think your best friend would be Steve. He is a very kind and compassionate person and would be very brotherly to you. he would never force you out of your comfort zone and would often check in on you. He can sometimes be a bit serious, but it never pushy towards you. He is very caring and helps you to accept yourself and things around you. 

-

Harry Potter: 

I ship you with Harry. 

Harry is a very encouraging and accepting person and I think he would see the best in you and would never stop showing and proving to you that you are worthy of love and compassion. He would find you to be beautiful and never sees the flaws that you try to convince yourself that you have. I think he would be one of the best people to show you that you matter and are beautiful. 

What you did for your first date:

You first met at Hogwarts, and since there was not much choice in dates he chose something simple that he knew you would enjoy. 

You left during dinner and took an evening stroll around the grounds.

You stayed out past curfew and sat on a nearby hill watching the stars together.

When you began to get sleepy you snuck back in and he walked you back to your room.  

Ways they show you they love you without words:

He brings you your favorite snacks and drinks randomly. 

Randomly drapes his cloak or jacket over your shoulders when you are cold. 

Will take your hand in his and rubs his fingers softly over your skin. 

Hugs you from behind randomly. 

Will play your favorite music throughout the house when he knows that you are stressed or sad. 

Best Friend:

Hermione. She is very good at making you feel better about the world and yourself. She is always open to going on long walks and listening to you rant about anything or just to talk when needed. She is good at giving advice and never lets you feel inferior to anyone. 

-

Lotr: 

I ship you with Aragorn. 

Out of everyone, I think Aragorn would be the best suited for you. He is kind, and patient and sees the best in everyone. He would see the best in you and is very good at showing it to you too. He will always make you feel wanted and needed. He does not let anyone take you for granted and will always stand up for you. He loves that you love music and will sing for you when you are stressed or having trouble falling asleep. 

What you did for your first date:

Aragorn being Aragorn, woud take you on a horse ride to a beautiful forest.

You would go exploring and walking through the meadows.

He would share his knowledge of various plants with you and pick you flowers along the way, making you a small bouquet. 

Once it got late, you two sat on the top of a hill and watched the sunset, waiting for the stars to come out before making your way back. 

Ways they show you they love you without words:

Surprising you with flowers randomly. 

Holding your hand as you walk through town on a quiet evening. 

Bringing you various plants and taking care of them for you.

Planting you a garden with all of your favorite plants and flowers. 

Hand-making you a special pendant to wear or hang somewhere in your home. 

Best Friend:

Out of everyone, I think you would form a bond with Eowyn. She is caring and quiet, and is very easy to get along with She is very good at making people aware of their worth and of feeling wanted. She would never make you angry or disappoint you. I think you two would become so close that you consider each other family. 

xx