Tumgik
#so apparently even if you only add like a drop or two to like a bathtub full of it its all holy
fanficimagery · 2 days
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Joining the Biz.
When the hotels are all booked up, your cousin asks if a few friends can crash at your place. You accept, not knowing you'll be meeting some people who will become lifelong friends and get a shot at doing what you once loved. [Part Two of Three]
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Words: 7.4K Author's Note: There's only a very brief Jey/Reader interaction in this. Oops. Just trying to set up Reader for part three, but at least there's some fluff that will make you smile. Hopefully..?
Over the next few days, your house becomes hang-out central. You even meet Liv, Finn, JD, and Carlito, but you don't click with them as you did the others.
It becomes obvious right away to everyone visiting your home that there's a connection between you and Jey, though the two of you dance around it. When he's not training at the arena or at the gym, he's snuggling you on the couch in the living room or just affectionately teasing you. Damian had volunteered to swap rooms with him, but you assured Damian that nothing overly intimate would be happening with Jey and explain your reasoning to him like you had explained to Jey's family. He understood and then dropped it, but you occasionally caught him smiling in sympathy at you when he saw you tucked into Jey's side.
Friday morning, your main three houseguests find you printing out a large picture of Roman. When asked why, you explained how Solo wanted you to crack Roman's serious facade, so you were going to sit ringside holding up a sign for him. And when they saw what you had written, they laughed, and Rhea took it upon herself to add red hearts around Roman's picture.
You drove to the arena early, flashing your backstage pass to be let in right away rather than wait in line. You had found your seat, which just so happened to be near the steel stairs leading up to the ring and took a moment to snap a few pics of the filling arena and post them. After posting them, you then had to clear out your friend requests yet again because the fans were interested in seeing who the woman that Jey, Roman, Jimmy, Dominik, Damian, and Rhea were posting about. Jey had posted about your workouts together, plus a few pics of your ass in your gear, but Dominik, Jimmy, and Rhea had posted your drunken dancing and Rhea's entrance stomp. Roman and Damian, however, posted group photos of all of you together or candids taken around your home and thanked you for opening up your home to their craziness.
And that, apparently, got their fans hella interested in you.
When the show starts, you keep your sign down by your feet until the perfect moment. Instead, you sit there cheering and booing as wrestlers come and go, snapping pics and video here and there. And when it's time for The Bloodline to come out, you boo Solo along with everyone else. However, when Solo notices you are booing him, his eyes squint as if he's trying to keep his mean mug in place and you're quick to form a heart with your hands and blow him a kiss. His lips purse as if to fight back a smile and you mentally cheer.
As The Bloodline talks, you grip your sign with one hand and prepare your phone with the other to take video. You boo as they talk and then scream when Roman's entrance song starts to play. Immediately you start to record on your phone.
Roman walks down the ramp, looking pissed off and intimidating as hell. You scream along with the fans, holding your sign out in front of you. As Roman nears, you cheer even louder and manage to garner his attention. He notices you first, keeping his expression neutral, but when his gaze darts to your sign and then back to your face, the wiggle of your eyebrows is his downfall. He barks out a laugh, realizes his mistake, and mouths I hate you while stomping up the steps. Half of your sign is a shirtless picture of him, but the other half reads Daddy's Home along with all the hearts Rhea had added.
As you watch The Bloodline and Roman argue back and forth, your phone vibrates with a text message.
From JeyBae: DID YOU JUST CRACK ROMAN ON LIVE TV?! To JeyBae: Yes. Yes, I did. Tell your baby brother I expect all my WWE shirts within the month. He'll know what I'm talking about.
Jey sends back laughing emojis and you send him the video of Roman when he reads your sign and cracks.
And when you get home later that night, you have a text from Roman promising to get you back for that.
You don't believe Roman until that same weekend, everyone's winding down at your house again after hours of shooting promos and having their pictures taken to refresh the web page. This time the guys are cooking, so you're free to lounge around and sunbathe with Rhea off to the side. However, just as you get comfortable, Solo and Roman take it upon themselves to grab you by the wrists and ankles. You scream as you hang between them, eyeing the pool with trepidation. Both men are laughing, bringing up how you made them crack on live tv, and no matter how much you say that it was all Solo's idea, the two Samoans swing you and then launch you into the pool.
Monday night has you attending Raw, ringside yet again, this time reppin' Jey with a Yeet sign and wearing his merch. You cheer and boo along with the crowd, surprising those around you when Dominik and Rey both break character when they spot you at different times. Dominik fist bumps you as he passes by, but your tio Rey takes a moment to pause and hug you before getting back into character. A few people around you ask why the Mysterio's are friendly with you, so you throw them a bone and admit that Rey's your uncle and Dominik your cousin. After that, they decide to leave you alone when they realize you're invested in the story telling going on in front of you.
When you get home, you're in high spirits. But then you realize that when Damian, Jey, and Rhea get back to your place, they'll have to pack and get some sleep before they have to wake up at four in the morning so you can drive them to the airport, and your mood plummets. And since you had eaten after leaving the arena, and the others had eaten at the arena, you decide to take a shower and crawl into bed.
Close to midnight, you feel yourself being moved and your eyes flutter open. You're curled on your side, and you see Damian and Rhea crawling into bed in front of you.
Rhea smiles, voice quiet. "One last sleepover."
A hand slides over your stomach, and you slide your own hand over it, sliding your fingers between Jey's. He's held you like this a few times, but you never touched his hand. Tonight, however, you'll allow yourself this moment. "I'm gonna really miss you guys."
"We're gonna miss you too," Damian says.
"Get some sleep, baby girl." A kiss is pressed to the back of your shoulder. "We still have a few hours before we gotta be on the road."
Though you're sad, you still manage to fall asleep while being cuddled by Jey.
Later, when their alarms go off, everyone's dragging their feet downstairs. You take the Range Rover, letting Damian drive. Rhea sits up front with him, and you sit in the back with Jey who refuses to let you sit far from him.
Damian parks at the airport so you can get off with them, and you help Rhea carry her bags inside.
When everyone gets to the point where you'll have to stay behind, they each take a moment to thank you.
Rhea goes first, dropping her bags and pulling you into a hug. "Thank you for this week. I didn't expect to find another family member when Dom suggested we stay at your house."
"You will always be welcomed here. Always." As you pull out of the hug, you wrinkle your nose when you feel your eyes stinging with tears already. Rhea laughs, her own eyes glassy as she steps back.
Damian steps up next, and you wetly laugh when your head barely meets the middle of his chest. "See you around, hermana."
"Don't be a stranger, Priest. You guys all have my number. Use it."
"I will." He squeezes you one last time before stepping back, he and Rhea starting to walk off. "We'll give you guys a moment."
As you turn, you're immediately engulfed by Jey. This hug is different than every one he's bestowed upon you since meeting you and you can't help but melt into him.
As your arms wrap tightly around his waist, you hide your face against the side of his neck and the two of you just stay there like that, not speaking. Then after a moment passes, you say, "This isn't fair."
"Right guy, wrong time, right?"
You huff a laugh. "Your brothers and cousin gossip too much."
"Nah. They just want to see us happy. You make me happy."
His words make your heart ache and your throat swell with emotion. "You make me happy too, but-"
"I know, baby girl. I know. It's like you said, this isn't fair." When you and Jey finally pull free from the hug, you can't meet his gaze. Not until he gently cups your face and makes you look up, pressing his forehead against yours. "We'll figure it out, yeah? It's only been a week, but already I know that whatever this is, it's different."
You sigh. "I can't do long distance."
"You will." Jey presses a kiss to your forehead and then steps back, smirking. "I'm not letting you go, baby. We're gonna text and Facetime so much that you're gonna be sick of me."
"You're ridiculous."
"And you're mine. Remember that."
You gulp, his possessive words stirring something within you, but you manage to squash it less he notices. Jey continues to walk backwards with his bag, smirking, and then turns to head to his gate.
As you walk out of the airport, you're filled with sadness and loneliness, but also hope for the future.
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You've never had an issue sleeping alone, in fact you preferred it, but you have trouble getting used to an empty bed this time around. You manage to cope though, especially when your new friends keep their promise to check in with you every other day. And not to mention that you get to see their alter egos appear on Monday Night Raw and Friday Night Smackdown which gives you a reason to text them, making fun of their storylines.
In between of keeping in touch with Jey, you manage to focus on yourself and grow your business of IT work, having enough resources to hire a few individuals and purchase a few work vehicles so no one had to drive their personal vehicles to any locations. And though you hadn't realized it at the time, spreading out the work actually lifted the weight that had been on your shoulders.
On Raw, you can say your favorite storylines are the Terror Twins beating the shit out of Judgement Day any chance they get, and Jey stepping up to protect Damian and Rhea when they need it. You don't really have a favorite storyline on Smackdown, but you do watch for Roman and Solo, and their ongoing battle for Tribal Chief. You get annoyed with the Bloodline when they accept Nia Jax into their ranks, making their faction even stronger. And then during one brutal beatdown on Roman, Jimmy finally makes his grand return to the ring. Roman and Jimmy aren't enough to take on the Bloodline, so Jey surprises everyone by rushing to their rescue. It's a mini reunion of the old Bloodline, and the new Bloodline seems to think twice about attacking them before retreating.
It's when you're Facetiming with Jey, teasing him about when the Creative team is finally going to give every fan what they want- his date with Rhea to Waffle House- that you get a call from your Tio Rey. You make up an excuse to hang up with Jey, not wanting to clue him in about Rey randomly calling you, and then call your Tio back.
"Hey, Tio," you greet when Rey picks up. "What's going on?"
"Mija, how are you?"
"I'm good. Work is keeping me busy."
"That's good, that's good." Rey falls quiet for a moment before saying, "Listen, I know I spoke about you possibly joining the business, but I need to know how serious you are about it."
"I mean, I wouldn't mind," you say. "I miss it. Miss the training and everything, but let's be serious for a second, Tio. I'm in no shape to suddenly get into a ring."
"You're in great shape, mija. It wouldn't take much to get you fit for the ring."
You chuckle. "If only, huh." Rey says nothing. "Tio?"
"What if I told you I got you a zoom meeting with Paul? Would you listen to what he has to say?"
"Shit. Are you serious?" Your heart starts to beat double.
"Yes." He chuckles. "I remember how much you loved wrestling and since you've made so many new friends within the business…"
"I'll do it." The words are out before you can second guess yourself. "But I have conditions of my own, Tio. The storyline has to be pretty decent if I'm to agree."
"I'd expect nothing less. I'll text you the details."
"Alright, Tio. Thank you. I love you."
"Love you too, mija. I hope your meeting goes well."
You're a ball of nerves and anxiety when Rey texts you the information about your video call meeting with Paul "Triple H" Levesque, the meeting only being in a few days.
You keep the meeting a secret from your friends and tell your Tio not to tell Dominik because your cousin wouldn't be able to keep it from Rhea. And to distract yourself, you keep busy with work.
The video call with Paul comes and goes, and you end the call feeling like you're on cloud nine. The storyline they're looking to drop a newcomer into is that of a female presence alongside Roman Reigns, of all people. They want someone who can be serious, but also a little goofy since they're looking to tone down Roman's alter ego since he's become very likable once again.
You had explained to Paul that you would love to work with Roman as a female ready to kick any other female's ass who dares to lay a hand on him, but you're not looking for a romantic storyline. Against your better judgment, you admit to having a very personal relationship with Jey Uso, and you rather not make things weird by your alter ego getting it on with Roman's alter ego. Paul chuckled away your worry, especially when you went on to playfully ask when Jey and Rhea were going to get that Waffle House date because you were waiting for it just like every other fan.
Paul talks a bit more about how Roman will be treating this newcomer like a little sister and be protective of her as she will be of him, and you're liking the idea more and more. And when he sees your very obvious interest in wanting to be that person, he slyly admits that Raw and Smackdown wrestlers will be making appearances on each other's shows, so it'll be likely that you see Jey Uso more frequently.
When you finally admit you're seriously interested, Paul tells you that there will be more phone calls and a meeting in person to be had in the near future. Since this isn't the normal way to bring in a new wrestler, the higher ups will want to see you in action.
"Noted, sir. If I'm to wrestle in person so you can see my skills, there's only one female I want to go against, but she needs to swear to secrecy about not letting it slip that it's me she's meeting with."
"Who do you got in mind, kid?" He had asked.
"Ripley," you mused. "Her technique is right up my alley. Plus, she's a friend."
"Jesus. Don't tell me I'm gonna have two brutal forces on my hand."
You smirked at him through the camera. "Can you imagine a team-up with us? We'd tear your female roster up."
Paul had chuckled. "How are your mic skills?"
You shrugged. "Not sure, but I don't have stage fright. I'm good at talking shit, but I will have to remember to censor myself. I have a potty mouth when I'm pissed off."
"That's what the production team is for. They'll bleep if necessary."
"That's going to be a lot of bleeping."
"I'm sure it can be handled." There was a moment of silence as Paul looked at something off screen. "Well, so far I like what I see. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders," he'd admitted. "Why don't we exchange numbers, so we don't have to go through the hassle of emailing. Then when I get everything set up for our face to face, we'll fly you out so we can see you in action."
"Yes, sir. Thank you so much for this opportunity."
And after a quick exchange of numbers, the video call was ended, and you texted your Tio the good news.
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Over the next few weeks, you change up your routine to make more time to work out and even change your eating habits. You even call a mandatory meeting with your employees, telling them that you're taking on a second job that's unrelated to what you're currently doing. If they wish to walk away, they're more than welcome to do it with no bad blood between you, but if they wish to stick around then they'll be getting a pay raise since they'll also be taking on a fair bit more of the work. Your new hires have no problem with a pay raise and decide to stick around, learning their new schedule for when you'll be out of town.
When you finally fly out to meet with Paul, your Tio Rey, Rhea, and the higher ups, you're driven to a random gym to keep your presence a secret. You walk in with the hood of your hoodie pulled up and you watch Rhea warm up in the ring. For a moment you just watch her and then you head in.
As you approach the ring, Rhea takes notice of you. Smirking, you pull down your hood and her eyes widen in delight.
"Shut the fuck up!" She practically yells in elation. "You?! You're the new blood?"
Laughing, you hop onto the side of the ring and step through the ropes. "Hopefully."
Rhea embraces you with more laughter, squeezing you tight.
"Good. You've met already," Paul suddenly says. Stepping up to the side of the ring and looking up at the two of you. "So, here's how this is going to go.."
As Paul tells you what he and the other higher ups expect to see, you strip out of your hoodie and toss it aside. You pull your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra and your leggings that are more than acceptable to fight in. You take the time to stretch, asking questions here and there to make sure you're on the same page of what they want to see. And when you begin, you and Rhea take the time to warm-up by running back and forth across the ring, bouncing off the ropes and dropping to the mat so the other could hop over whoever was down on the mat at the time.
Then when Paul tells you to fight, to feed off one another's energy and read each other's body language, you and Rhea lock in the middle. Each of you takes hits and kicks from the other, acting as if it were a real match and you were seriously injuring one another. You take turns climbing onto the ropes, but never properly get a moonsault in. You surprise everyone when you 6-1-9 Rhea, but Rhea ends your little session when she gives you the Riptide and pins you with her provocative pin.
Panting and heaving, you lay there on the mat as Rhea falls onto her own back, catching her breath as well.
There's a silence that follows before several rounds of applause break out.
"Atta girl, mija!" Rey cheers.
"That.. was impressive work for being rusty," Paul says. "How do you feel?"
"Honest answer?" You ask, breathing heavily.
"Yes."
"Rhea's pin kinda turned me on a little bit." Rhea and Paul bark out a laugh, and your Tio shakes his head in amusement at you. "But in all seriousness, I feel great. I haven't done that since I was a teenager and it.. it felt like coming home."
"I'm glad to hear that," Paul says. "We're all impressed, especially since you kept up with Rhea so well. You weren't joking that your technique was right up alley. I think with a few months of training, you'll be good enough to be introduced."
"Really?" You slowly smile, eyes turning misty.
"Yes. In the meantime, you need to make your presence known on social media. You have the option of keeping your private life private while making a new profile that's just for your public life as a wrestler, or you can start integrating your wrestling life into the profiles you currently have."
"Uh, I think I'll make some new profiles. I'll post some private life moments for the fans so they can get a peek behind the curtain in my life, but nothing too personal that they can track down where I live."
Paul nods, knocking his knuckles onto the mat. "Sounds good. And good work in the ring. I'm glad your uncle just wasn't all talk."
You grin. "Thank you for taking a chance on me, sir."
"Thank you for being an asskicker. Now, I'll be in contact. I'll get you a contract soon and we'll talk some more."
"Yes, sir. Thank you again."
Paul and the others take their leave, leaving Rey and Rhea with you. As they disappear, you can't help but burst into tears. Rhea laughs, rolling over on top of you and straddling your hips as she grabs your wrists and squeals. Rey joins the two of you in the ring, and you end up laughing as Rhea can't stop cursing and just being excited about you possibly working with her.
"So, what's this about a faction I've been hearing about? Do you already know where you're going?"
As you wipe away your tears, you sniffle. "Yeah. There's a storyline that requires a female companion and Tio Rey told them I could possibly be a good fit."
"And I was right. You were magnificent, mija."
"But it's all still a secret, so Rhea, you can't say anything!"
"Got it, got it. My lips are sealed." She crawls off of you and you sit up, laughing at her smile. "This is awesome. I hope you come to Raw. You can be our tiny terror triplet."
You huff a laugh, shoulder checking her. "I thought Uso was the triplet?" She snorts. "Seriously, I'm banking on you and Jey finally getting to go to a Waffle House, only for Damian to obliviously be third wheeling. You should become a throuple. I'd ship it if no one else does."
Rhea laughs. "Shut up. Don't give them any ideas."
Rey finally helps you to your feet, making sure you're alright and that there are no injuries that need to be looked over. You want to spend more time with Rhea, but she's got to get back to the arena before anyone becomes suspicious. But before she leaves, she tells you to keep her in the loop about what you can and when you'll possibly be making your debut. You assure her you will and to keep a lookout for your new public social pages where you'll start off as inconspicuous as you can by posting about how you want to get back into shape and what not.
When it's just you and your Tio Rey left, you hang out in the ring to listen to all the pointers he has to offer. He works with you for a couple of hours before he buys you dinner and sends you back to your hotel.
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For your contract signing, your Tio Rey sits in on the meeting with you to explain a few things here and there. You're aware that your public socials will mostly need to be posts as if your alter ego was posting or anything related to fan interactions/charities/upcoming shows, but that you can also have personal pics/videos so long as you explain you're posting as your real self and not your wrestling self. However, since your impending appearance on the show is being kept on the down low, you're only to post work out videos or get ready with me videos and show no inkling of you getting into the business.
The topic of body art comes up because when you're under contract, any tattoos need to be approved beforehand. You assure Paul that there's not really anything you plan to get at the moment and understand you need to run any future ideas by the higher ups.
When Paul and some of the Creative team spitball ideas about how to start showing your face associated with the business, you have an idea. They hear you out, and though the dynamic between Dom and Rey is overused, you ask them to bring it up again. You can start flying out to shows to watch your family do work, but then get upset one night when Judgement Day starts beating down on Rey. It'll give you the opportunity to jump the barricade and shield your Tio, only to get into an argument with Dominik in the ring, tearing down those he now calls his family. You suggest Liv and JD attacking you, and Finn and Carlito attacking Rey while Dom stands back, unsure of what to do.
As you were talking, you hadn't seen the team taking notes. Only when Paul chuckled and joked that you should take up a part time job as a writer, did you finally sign the contract. Rey was ecstatic and Paul welcomed you aboard, telling you to go home and continue doing what you were doing. They'd bring you in soon.
. . . .
When you get back home, you don't change anything in your routine. The only thing that changes is that you start posting videos on your breaks, videos that Rhea immediately starts following and hyping you up for.
It takes a few days, but eventually you notice an uptick of followers from those you made friends with within the WWE community. Your comment section is full of encouragement and playful flirtation, but it isn't long until the trolls find your page. Some shower you with compliments because of your affiliation with certain wrestlers while others troll you. But since you're under contract, you can't lash out at their pathetic criticism less you want to be reprimanded by the higher ups at WWE.
One day, you're really feeling yourself and decide to do a pole workout. You wear a pair of cheeky workout shorts and a very pretty workout bralette, and get to work. There are no provocative dance moves, instead you decide to show off the strength of your arms and legs by climbing, twirling, and going upside down on the pole. You even show off your flexibility, and when it's all over you post the video with the song Play Hard by David Guetta, Ne-Yo and Akon. Immediately, the likes and comments roll in. And ten minutes later, Jey has you on Facetime.
"Yessss," you drawl as you answer the video call with a grin.
"You really gonna do me like that, baby?" As you stare at Jey, you see he's in a locker room, towel draped over his shoulder. You chuckle at his pout. "I know you danced in the past, but I didn't know you were still able to do all that."
"Of course I can still do it. Pole dancing is quite the workout. And it's fun when the person you want to see sees it." You wink and Jey squints his eyes at you.
"You still in them little ass shorts?"
"What is it with you and my ass?" You laugh, heading towards the body length mirror you have in the hallway of your home. Standing in front of the mirror, you angle your body so your ass can be seen as you twist, aiming the camera over your shoulder. When you see the screen white out for a second, you freeze. "Did you- did you just take a screenshot?"
Jey smirks. "Yes, and? I miss my girl. I need this."
You blush, heading shaking in amusement before heading to your living room and falling onto your couch to relax. "You're ridiculous."
"You know it! But as much as I've missed seeing your face and booty, there's actually a reason I called. Big Uce needs a favor."
You roll your eyes. "How many times have I told you and everyone else that my house is your house? If someone needs a place to crash, my house is open."
"See! Told you, man. You could have just showed up and she'd let you right in." Jey is talking to someone off camera and then he's scooting over, making room for another person. Roman enters half the screen. "Hey YN, how are you?"
"I'm good, Rome," you say. "How are things with you?"
He shrugs. "Could be better. My shoulder's been acting up, so the boss wants me to take a month off to heal and prepare myself for some storyline they wanna start me in."
"And you wanna spend that month here?"
You chuckle as Roman turns sheepish. "If you don't mind? It's just at your place, I know I won't be bothered if I go for a swim or soak in the hot tub."
"Come on down, Rome. It'll be nice to have some noise back in this house."
"Thank you. Do you think you can pick me up from the airport or should I get a rental?"
"Send me the details of when you'll be landing, and I'll be there."
"Alright. I'll go book the flight right now and text you right after." Jey takes over the call once more, grinning.
"What's got you cheesin'?"
"You. It makes me happy to see you treat my family like your family."
"Yeah, well they make it easy."
Jey continues to smile before it turns rather wistful. "The next time I ain't booked for anythin', I'm coming down. We have a lot of time to make up for."
"I'll probably see you before you see me," you muse. At his arched eyebrow, you say, "Dom and Tio Rey want me to start coming to shows. I'll probably wait until Roman leaves so I don't leave him alone here, but I should be coming to a Raw show at least once a month from now on."
"When you do, don't book a hotel room. You can bunk with me."
"Sure thing, Uso. Now get back to work. I wanna see you yeet that lame ass Judgement Day soon."
He laughs. "Your cuz is in that lame ass Judgement Day."
"I said what I said."
He shakes his head in amusement. "I'll see what I can do. Talk to you later, baby girl."
"Bye, Jey."
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When Roman gets to your house, you help him get situated in the room that he'll be taking over for the month. You hand him the keys to your Range Rover to use while he stays and tell him you have a friend that works at the local gym who can get him some private hours should he want it. He agrees to the private hours so long as you join him which ends up being the perfect excuse to work out alongside Roman and post those pictures and videos. After all, you'll be part of his faction when you start at WWE, so it'll be nice to have those pictures on standby after your affiliation is known.
You and Roman post serious pics of working out side by side, encouraging one another. Some videos are silly, though, especially the one Roman posts where he mentions that having a workout partner is actually fun. But when he pans to you, you're laid out on the floor, panting for breath, and giving him a shaky thumbs up that he laughs at. While you had a decent routine, Roman's was intense, and you cursed him the entire time he pushed you to your limit.
Monday and Friday nights are reserved for watching wrestling on your flatscreen, and Roman can't help but tease you when you get into it, especially where it concerns his cousins.
"When are you going to make it official?" Roman asks as he watches you watch Jey's match on screen.
"When I can travel along with you guys for a couple months at a time," you answer without missing a beat.
"What about your job?"
You wince as Jey is tossed from the top rope. "I can work from the road," you admit. "I have employees now that can do the house calls and I'll be available Monday through Friday, nine to five over the phone. The only thing keeping me from flying out is that I've yet to find a trustworthy house sitter for when I'm away."
The only sound that can be heard is the commentators announcing Jey's win before, "You really love him, don't you?"
You freeze and turn towards Roman. "Love is a.. strong word."
He rolls his eyes. "If you didn't love him, you wouldn't be finding a way to travel on the road with us. It's okay to have strong feelings for him. You can't help who you love, when or how it happens."
You turn sheepish, not wanting to talk about it anymore with Jey's cousin. Your feelings for Jey were strong and they had caught you off guard. You figured they'd diminish when he left, but you only missed him more, and those feelings grew every time you spoke on the phone. It also didn't help that all your mutual friends were rooting for the two of you to work things out.
Roman lets the conversation drop and the two of you continue cohabitating like normal, treating one another like the world's most annoying brother/sister.
When it's time for Roman to get back to work, you fly out with him to attend a showing of Smackdown. You wear his merch, even carrying a sign that proclaims Roman as THE tribal chief. Unknowingly, Solo and Nia add beef to your future interactions with them when Nia rips the sign from your hands and tears it in half. You merely smirk at her, however, earning a nod of approval from Roman and a few secret texts from Paul who's giddy that his wrestlers are unknowingly setting themselves up for your explosive introduction.
But before you can get to your introduction on Smackdown, you need to make appearances on Raw as the distraught family member who's tired of your Tio and cousin beating each other down.
. . . .
Paul gives you a total of three appearances on Raw, sitting ringside and shouting at your cousin when he takes things too far with his dad. Some fans start to suspect that you might join WWE, however briefly, since WWE usually pulls in a non-wrestling family members every now and then to spice things up. Unfortunately for those who don't know, you're very much into wrestling and know how to hold your own.
On the night of your so-called debut, you're sitting ringside yet again.
(Live on Raw)
Rey Mysterio walks out to an amped up crowd and when he spots you, he takes a moment to hug you and greet you with a kiss to your temple. As he slides into the ring to start warming up, the Judgement Day theme goes off. Dominik swaggers out with Liv hanging off his arm and your nose wrinkles as Liv openly laughs at you, mockingly wiggling her fingers in a wave when you try calling out to Dominik to stop this feud already.
He doesn't, and father and son go toe to toe.
Rey and Dominik trade blows back and forth, and even with the help of Liv… Dominik still loses the match. This enrages Judgement Day, and it isn't long until Finn, JD, and Carlito are running down the ramp to beat up on Rey.
From your side of the barrier, you're screaming at Dom to stop it. You ignore the camera crew when they film your reaction and when you see Finn pull out a chair to wrap around Rey's neck, you hop the barrier. The crowd cheers as you slide into the ring like it's something you've done all your life and you cover Rey's body, holding your arms out as you stare up at your cousin who's standing on the top rope, ready to jump on the chair around his dad's neck.
A microphone is slid to you, and you pick it up, pleading with Dom as you stand up. "Stop! Stop it, Dom. That's enough." Your voice cracks and you sniffle. "It's enough."
As Dom stares at you in shock, he slowly climbs down the rope and requests a mic as you remove the chair from Rey's neck and slide it behind you, glaring at Judgement Day surrounding you. "Prima, what the hell are you doin' in here?"
"What am I doing? What are you doing?" You ask in return. "This is your dad, Dom. Your blood! Cut the crap already and come home."
He's stunned silent before huffs, a cruel smile taking over. "Home? What home? And blood doesn't define family, cuz. You should know that. When was the last time you spoke to your old man, huh?"
Oof. Low blow, but part of the script. Paul did tell you to ad-lib the fight to get under each other's skin. Slowly, you stand, turning around in a circle and putting your back to the ropes rather than having someone stand behind you.
"Of course, I know blood doesn't define family, pendejo. But I seriously hope you don't mean to call this rag-tag team of cowards your family." The crowd laughs as those of the Judgement Day take offense to that. "You really think Judgement Day 2.0 cares about you?" You huff out a laugh. "You're delusional. The only one who cared about you in their own weird way was Rhea. She brought you in. She gave you a family. She kept you safe," you seethe at him as the crowd agrees with you. "Believe it or not, Rhea and Damian were the only loyal ones of Judgement Day, and you ruined a good thing when you betrayed them all for a Harley Quinn reject that has eyes for Finn when you're not paying attention."
The crowd ooh's.
"No! No that's not true," Liv screams when she rips the mic from Dom, shouldering her women's title as if it proves that she's the best. "I love my daddy Dom and he loves me. Rhea was toxic!"
"Toxic or not, she's clearly the better choice." The crowd cheers as you look Liv up and down, disgust evident in your features. "Have fun with Rhea's sloppy seconds."
You drop the mic, turning to help Rey up. However, Liv's scream of rage makes you pause, and you feel the weight of her championship belt connect with the back of your head. You fall forward and the crowd goes into an uproar. When kicks start connecting with your back, you curl up on your side and curl your arms around your head.
Liv gets in a few kicks before you take charge. Between one kick and the next, you roll onto your back and sweep Liv's legs out from beneath her. When she falls, you scramble onto your hands and knees and straddle the women's champion before grasping her hair in one hand and delivering blow after blow with the other.
The arena fills with screams and cheers, and then you're dragged off of Liv. As your arms are held behind you by JD, Finn and Carlito help Liv up. She attacks you with hits and kicks while Dominik watches from the corner, hands in his hair as he's torn between stopping the attack or not.
THIS IS MY BRUTALITY!
Rhea's theme song goes off, purple lights flashing, and the crowd is deafening as Rhea and Damian rush the ring. Judgement Day quickly abandons ship, and the Terror Twins stalk the ring back and forth, pointing and threatening the cowards as they run away.
You stand back, glancing warily between the Terror Twins and your Tio who's still laid out on the mat.
When they turn towards you, Rhea and Damian watch you with unsurety in their gazes. You're holding onto your stomach where Liv landed kick after kick, and when your Tio groans, you rush to help him to his feet. Damian beats you to it, however, and offers Rey a hand up much to the crowd's surprise.
There's another stare off before you say, "Thank you."
Damian's expression is kept neutral, but Rhea slowly smirks, licking her bottom lip in a rather seductive manner. You can feel your cheeks heating against your will, and she laughs before her and Damian are rolling out of the ring with a mock salute towards you and Rey.
After a moment, Rey heads for the stairs and you follow after him, the two of you leaning on one another as you make your way backstage.
(End of broadcast segment.)
The moment you make it behind the curtains and filming is cut, you're engulfed in a hug by Dominik.
"Prima, that was so good!"
Liv walks up beside you, squealing. "That was awesome. I hope I didn't hurt you. I felt a few of those kicks connect."
"Nah, girl, you're good." As you pull out of the hug with Dominik, you high five the blonde. "The more believable it is, the more people will wanna watch you."
She laughs, calls you crazy, and then steps aside. The rest of Judgement Day congratulate you on a great intro, and then Rhea and Damian are there putting you in the middle of their group hug.
"Mate, that was awesome. I'm so glad I don't have to keep this secret anymore!"
"What? You knew?!" Damian demands. Both you and Rhea laugh.
"Where do you think I was sneaking off to?" Rhea muses. "Paul wanted to see what YN was capable of, so I was her opponent for the trial matches. Needless to say, everyone was impressed."
"Damn. I wish I could have been there," he says.
"And ruin the surprise? Never."
After your friends release you, your Tio hugs you. "I'm proud of you, mija. You were meant for this life and I'm glad to be a part of it."
Rey's words make you a little emotional and you have to laugh less you start ugly crying. "Thank you, Tio. I'm looking forward to what's to come."
As soon as your Tio releases you, you're spun around and yanked into yet another hug. "Damn, baby girl. No head's up?" You laugh as you hug Jey, this hug being long overdue. "Does this mean you're going to be on Raw?"
You shrug as you step back, but Jey keeps you close by tucking you under his arm. "A contract is still in the works," you say, reluctantly lying to your friends. Your contract was already locked in, but they didn't know that. "At first I didn't want to fight, I just wanted to be what essentially is a hype man on the sidelines, but Paul thinks I'm destined for more. I was scared to step on the toes of the females still waiting to be called up to the main roster, but Paul says he saw something in me worth taking the risk."
"Damn right he did," Jey says. "You're ballsy."
You smile up at him, letting him press a kiss to your forehead. "But anyway, for now I'll be stuck in the middle of my cousin and Tio, playing the distraught family member. They wanna gauge everyone's reaction to me and if I'm liked enough, they'll plant me into a storyline either on Raw or Smackdown."
"Yeet," Jey says, clearly excited. "Everything's coming together, baby. Now let's go check that phone of yours. I'm sure Jimmy and Roman are blowing it up as we speak."
Author's Note: Reader is a little ass kicker. This is very self-indulgent, so don't just me haha. Let me have this.
Spanish translations: Hermana - Sister. Mija - Darling (term of endearment family mostly uses for younger girl). Prima/Primo - Cousin. Pendenja/Pendejo - Stupid girl/stupid boy.
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toiletclown · 23 hours
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breathless.
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spencer agnew x gn!reader
mostly fluff, a little angst.
part one of four or five, depending how much more i add.
summary: you've had feelings for your best friend, spencer, almost as long as you have known him. it isn't getting any easier, and you need to tell him soon, whether he feels the same or not. your friends are pushing you, the fans already ship you, and after courtney and shayne's success, you just couldn’t bare to keep lying anymore. to yourself, or to him.
word count: 2028 for part one.
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾  ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
It’s been two years since you graduated from Smosh crew member to Smosh cast member. You weren’t the first, and are unlikely to be the last, but it’s still a bit nerve-wracking. You were moved to cast not long after Spencer made his switch to cast, but that was exactly your problem, wasn’t it? When you were both on crew, it was easier. Small smiles, hidden glances, a blush forming under your mask. Once or twice, Brennan had swiveled his camera to the crew to get their reactions and you couldn’t duck fast enough to dodge the shot. 
You both shared moments without fear of judgment, knowing everyone at Smosh knew how close you were. Some more than others. But once you were both on camera more often, those moments dwindled to near nothingness. You couldn’t make eyes at him, he couldn’t flirt with you. Plenty of the cast flirted with each other on and off camera, of course, but it was different somehow. The office flirting became private hangout flirting, which then became no flirting at all. 
He didn’t get jealous anymore when Amanda or Angela flirted with you, and you did your best not to get jealous when he flirted with Tommy or Shayne. It was like your friendship was entirely platonic again. And while that was all it had ever been – platonic – it hurt a little. It was like something happened overnight, and the flirting wasn’t cool anymore.
The last time something happened before your promotion to cast, Spencer, Angela, and Chanse were doing Who Meme’d It with Shayne, and someone had sent in a meme about you always looking at Spencer. As soon as it popped up, everyone was laughing, and Brennan promptly turned his camera to get your face. You were smart enough to expect it, and you managed to push out a laugh and shrug to the camera. All in good fun, it seemed. But really, it was a little bit upsetting to realize you were so obvious about your affection for Spencer. You thought that you were fairly secretive and weren’t too over the top, but apparently not so much.
“Okay, ‘Y/N pretending they weren’t just staring at Spencer’! Spencer, any thoughts?” Shayne said through giggles. 
Spencer made eye contact with you, and you did your best to hold it. “Gotta be honest, Shayne, I wasn’t even aware they stared at me. Guess they’re sneakier than I thought!” Everyone was laughing again, and you joined in. Instead of making a joke about him staring at you, or a joke about you two flirting in your pod, he went with a PR answer. You could barely admit to yourself how bad it had stung. And sure, most people got roasted in Who Meme’d It, especially with the lack of funeral roasts, but it didn’t really feel good to have your private crush on Spencer blasted to not only cast and crew, but whoever ends up watching this video. And his comment was making it seem more one-sided than you liked.
After the laughter settled down, Shayne got back to hosting. “Alright, who meme’d it! Was it Erin Dougal? Courtney? Or Y/N themselves?” You made a silly face when Brennan panned to you, channeling your best mad scientist look. Your face dropped immediately after. No one saw it.
The cast members debated for a second before writing down their answers. It was Courtney across the board. “Alright, so we all think Courtney made this meme. Angela, what makes you think it was Courtney?” 
“Shayne, that’s a great question, thank you so much for being here with me today. I said Court because I have seen them having little whisper sessions with Y/N and I simply don’t trust like that!” Angela laughed, a bright smile on her face. She winked at you once the camera had moved away from her face. She was actually your go-to confidant, and you were sure she knew that. She was your best friend, behind Spencer, after all.
After a dramatic pause, it was revealed that Erin Dougal was the one who made the meme. You could have called that from a mile away, but that was because Erin was constantly telling you to ask Spencer out. You shot her down every time, knowing it was safer and easier to suffer in silence with your feelings rather than to possibly fuck everything up with your best friend. Besides, suffering in silence was what you were best at.
//
And now, a few months later, you were the one in front of the camera for a Who Meme’d It. It was your first time actually competing, although you’ve sent your fair share of memes in. Spencer and Angela were the only two people to continuously guess you correctly, which in the grand scheme of things made the most sense as they were your closest friends at Smosh. However, you were now competing against both of them, and your competitive side didn’t have a concept of “friendship”, unfortunately. 
“Okay! Welcome back to Who Meme’d It! Today we have Angela, Y/N, and Spencer competing. And Y/N is quite competitive so let’s hope they still have their best friends after this!” Shayne introduced you all, smiling at you to ease your anxiety. 
“Lest we forget what happened when they were on Don’t Win Mario Party and nearly killed me,” Spencer said, turning towards you with his hands folded on the table. His eyes were smiling, but he was trying his best to keep a serious face.
You turned to face him, mirroring his expression and hands. “Lest we forget you deserved that attack because you fucked with my controller mid-lap so that you could get seventh.”
“Okay, are we doing Who Meme’d It or the Newlywed Game?” Angela joked, and you and Spencer returned to your normal positions, excited to play.
//
After the shoot, Spencer caught up with you in the kitchen. “You got your first Who Meme’d It win, how’s it feel?” You had indeed won, but only by two points. Spencer was right behind you and Angela frankly tanked it this episode. Usually she wasn’t too bad, but perhaps she knew how competitive you were going to be and decided to focus more on having fun instead of winning. Especially considering there was content being made that needed to be entertaining.
“Eh, I feel like my competitiveness isn’t very fun on camera. I’m hoping we don’t have to scrap the ep simply because I was too locked in.” You grabbed some fruit from the fridge and prepared to make your way to a table so you could sit and destress before your next shoot. You weren’t needed on set for over an hour so you were ready to mindlessly doomscroll while you snacked on your peaches.
Spencer chuckled at your comment, which made your heart flutter a bit. Suddenly, you had the urge to touch him. You put your hand on his shoulder, mostly unconsciously, not actively making the decision but simply just doing it. His giggling stopped instantly, and he looked at your hand cryptically, his expression unreadable. All too suddenly, it felt too serious, too personal, so you instantly pivoted. “But at least you didn’t win, right?” You smiled, patting his shoulder and turning to head to your seat. 
You were hoping, for the first time ever if you were being honest, that he wouldn’t follow you. Things had been weird between you two for a few weeks now, and you almost wanted some space to deal with the pain of your best friend seeming to lose interest in your friendship. And once again, Erin had submitted a meme that made you a little upset. You knew it was unreasonable to be upset with her, as it was all in good fun and she wasn’t actually trying to hurt your feelings. You should probably try to talk to her about that, since you knew she wouldn’t take your upset personally.
This one was arguably worse than the first one though, because instead of it being at your expense, it was technically at Spencer’s. The meme wasn’t mean in any regard, but it was making fun of Spencer for consistently getting “lost in his thoughts” whenever you were on a shoot together. Of course, Erin alluded to those thoughts being romantic in nature, which earned a few oohs and aahs from the crew and cast alike. You had felt your face get warm and tried to remind yourself you were on camera and it was all in good fun. 
Your thoughts were interrupted by Courtney approaching you. “Y/N, Spence! Just the two people I wanted to see. I have a question for you guys.” 
Clearly, Spencer had intended on following you, since Courtney had greeted you both. You sighed as quietly as possible, before asking Court if you could sit down before you all got to talking. Your castmates followed you to a table, and you popped a piece of fruit in your mouth. “Okay, what's up?” 
“Well, we wanted to do a Guitar Hero stream next week. I know you haven't been on any of the livestreams, so I figured I’d ask if you wanted to be in this one. You don't have to play but if you sit and make commentary I’m sure that'll be enough! But of course you can play if you want to.” Courtney was always so thoughtful, and you made a mental note to thank her for always being so considerate. 
“Oh hell yeah, I finally get to show off my guitar skills. It’s been a minute since I’ve played, but if Y/N’s down, I’m down!” Spencer’s eyes lit up. He had been trying to figure out a way to impress you and gauge your reaction before he finally took the leap and asked you on a date.
Everyone had been encouraging him to do so for months at this point, but he still wasn’t so sure about it. Yeah, you blushed whenever he mentioned you on camera and you blushed a lot during the shoot today when Erin’s meme came up. But some part of him felt like that had less to do with reciprocating a crush and more to do with embarrassment. 
You thought for a minute, munching on your peach slice. “Sure, that sounds fun. Spencer, maybe you could teach me how to play?”
Spencer broke out in a grin, “Of course I can. Although I’m surprised you’ve never played it before, it’s an iconic franchise.”
Courtney worked out a few more details with the two of you before making their way back to their pod. When she had left, Spencer turned his attention back to you. “Have you seriously never played Guitar Hero before?” He genuinely was having trouble believing that.
Truthfully, you had played before. Many times. And you were actually quite skilled at it. But it’s been quite some time since you picked up and played it, and you knew you would be rusty. Plus, you were mentally hatching a plan. Have Spence “teach” you the game, play extremely badly the whole time, then on stream you can kick his ass on Expert mode. Perfect plan.
“I have not. I might have played once or twice as a kid but I don’t really remember the controls or, like, speed, since I know some of the songs are really fast.”
“Okay, do you wanna come by my place tonight after work? I have a bunch of the Guitar Hero games but I also have Clone Hero which will probably be what we use on the stream anyway.”
Oh, right. Not-so-perfect plan. If you were to be taught, you needed to be taught before the livestream. Which means you had to hang out with Spencer outside of work. You can survive one night alone with him, right? You’ve done it so many times before. Sure, it’s been a few weeks since you guys hung out, and with your increasing feelings for him you were sure to be awkward. But it was Spencer! Your best friend in the whole world! It would be just fine. Right?
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Welcome back to the bits of soup I deem good enough for the public:
Angel 100% thought Zach and Ruben were dating for a hot second. It would've been like somewhere in between after the talent show and before canon starts. But either way I think it went something like this.
Ruben: yeah so there's this guy
Zach: ooh guy?
Angel: oh do you guys have an open relationship?
Zach & Ruben: what-
Angel: aren't you dating?
Zach: i mean ruben's an amazing person but I'm straight-
Angel was then confused about this for the next like month. After this interaction he ran it by Jon and Jon was like "bro what planet do you live on?". Then after Zach and Ruben came out to Jon and Angel, Angel pulled Jon aside and was like "fuck you I knew it I was right".
Secondary thought. After Zach and Ruben got their shit together but before Jon and Angel knew (that's a time window of like 2 weeks right??? I don't remember lol) they like put together that something was going on and were trying to make the math math. Eventually Angel got to "they've gotta me a thing man no way they aren't" which was very "I've connected the dots. You didn't connect shit. I've connected them.)
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neowinestainedress · 2 months
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wave | lee donghyuck (part two)
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part 1 | masterpost | full fic not split in two
pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, weed/alcool consumption, thigh riding, oral (receiving, giving), unprotected sex, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 20.3k (out of 42k)
a/n: here’s the second part. please if you liked it leave feedback (comments, reblogs, asks), i love knowing your opinions and it keeps me motivated to keep posting my writing. enjoy!
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After too many dates, too many studying sessions together, and in general too much time spent together —even with his group of friends— you feel like this is a relationship that simply hasn’t been named, yet. Something about everything doesn’t feel like just sex and hate.
You’re fine like this, for once believing you can let loose a little and still do well in your studies.
Haechan, instead, thinks his plan is going amazingly. He knows he has you distracted, he knows he takes away your time, and he knows everything is technically perfect. But the plan is not the best made of his life, and the more time passes, the more he forgets about it, and the more he thinks about you.
He never planned to use you, that had to be clear. He just wanted to distract you with sex —something you both wanted to have— and give you a boyfriend experience so you could write the song in the best way possible. But in doing all that, he is more caught up in you —and not only because of the plan, he is just caught up in you— than in his studies.
It’s nine pm on Sunday after he dropped you home around four pm this afternoon. He made you meet his girl friends too for lunch and then you went back to his place to stay together for a while. But even if you spent almost the entire day together, he still misses you.
He rolls on his back as he goes into his contacts to text you again, he doesn’t have to scroll down, you’re second on the list since he last annoyed you forty minutes ago but you still haven’t replied. 
haechan: can you answer me?
haechan: i miss you : (
haechan: you didn’t even let me eat you out
haechan: you looked so pretty in that skirt i think it looks better with my head underneath it
haechan: fuck and now i’m hard thinking about you
mortal enemy: the only hard thing should be the books you should be studying on, remember we have a test tomorrow?
“Fuck,” he screams, sitting up. “What?”
He never forgets these things. He always writes them down in his agenda that he maniacally reads every day to make sure he’s always on time with his studying schedule. He can’t have forgotten about it. But, apparently, he did.
His thumb quickly wipes to call you and your answer doesn’t let him wait.
“I’m studying,” you huff annoyed as you pick up his phone call right away.
“Why would you go out with me if tomorrow we have a test?”
Your chuckle reaches his ear through the phone before he gets to hear your voice again. “Why not?”
“Don’t you want to be the top one? What about your grades? This adds up for the finals.” Panic fills his voice, he’s hoping you remembered just now and haven’t been studying since you went back, but you’re too relaxed for that to be true.
“Yeah, I know,” you reply, too calmly for his liking. Was his plan working? No, because you knew about it. And he completely erased the test, too busy thinking about you.
“And you go out?” He asks again as anxiety starts to take over him.
“Why would I lock myself up before a test? It’s not even that serious. There’s the topic you pick, and then like four questions that will surely be the main things we discussed in class, Professor Kim only knows one way of making tests.”
He groans, he can’t believe you’re always so ahead of him. “How do you know these things?”
“I use my brain,” you reply nonchalantly.  
“So you started studying… when you got home?”
“Last week.”
“Last week? Are you kidding me?” He screams so loud that he’s sure you have to move the phone from your ear.
You sigh, rubbing your temples, Haechan knows it, you always do that when he pisses you off somehow. “You didn’t open the book at least once until now?”  
“I…” I would usually read through the notes at least once a week, but I’ve been too busy. “I’ve… I read the notes, until some weeks ago. I got busy, okay?”
“Were you perhaps distracted by something Hyuck?” You ask teasingly, and he can see you twirl the end of your hair in your fingers while your tongue pokes at your cheek.
“Nothing distracts me,” he mutters, frowning even if you can’t see him.
“Then hang the call and try to read the notes at least, I’ll send you the recordings of the lessons, play them all night maybe something will stick to your brain.”
“Okay, bye. Wish me good luck, please,” he says, and you chuckle. “No seriously, don’t manifest against me, I need all your good energy.”
“I will, Hyuck. Just give it a quick read and then try to get as much sleep as possible. You have a brain and you’re smart with it, it’s better for you to be active tomorrow than force information that just won’t get in, alright?”
He hums, weirdly feeling a bit calmer at your words. “’kay, goodnight, babe.”
“Goodnight.”
Haechan sighs, slumping on the bed, boner long gone and anxiety on his chest, until the screen lights up again and a few messages from you show up.
mortal enemy: 10 audios + 10 files ‘music theory notes’ sent the audios anyway but my *perfect* notes should be enough to not make you pull up an all-nighter also don’t stress too much, I appreciate the act of chivalry to make me top this class grades again :;
He forgot about an exam, he didn’t study for it, yet he’s smiling like an idiot because of you.
Haechan’s screwed.
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“So, how did it go?” You ask, blocking Haechan as soon as the bell rings and Professor Kim dismisses the class, letting you know the results will be in next week.
Haechan glares at you, and you suck your teeth. “Come on, it wasn’t that difficult,” you say, sitting on his desk, as he looks for something in his bag.
“I did great, I just don’t want to admit your notes are perfect and were enough to save my ass,” he says, and you can’t hold back the smile.
“You’re welcome,” you say, standing up and kicking him playfully with a swing of your hips.
“Hey! You could’ve made me fall,” he jokes, grabbing his bag before taking a step back so you can lead the way out of there. “And thank you.”
You chuckle, lowering your head to hide that dumb grin on your face. “You know, I wanted to ask you why we never revisited music theory but I thought you wanted to do it on your own, maybe you were scheming something against me.”
“What? I would never scheme against you,” he says as you start walking to lunch.
You stare at him with a raised brow, and he huffs. “It was in the past and you did it too. Also, what would I scheme?”
“I don’t know, maybe you sneaked into his office and stole the test to already know the answers?”
“That would be cheating, not beating you. There’s no fun in that,” he says, holding the door of the cafeteria open for you.
“You’re such a fair rival,” you joke as you head to the buffet to grab something to eat.
“Wait,” he stops you when your plates are full. “Why don’t you sit at our table? I hate seeing you eat alone.”
“Have you ever considered I can’t stand how loud your friends are?”
“Oh come on, you already deal with them when you come to my place.”
“Exactly.”
Haechan huffs, standing in front of you to stop you from going toward your table. “We can go to yours today.”
You furrow, lightly tilting your head to the side. “We don’t have anything to study.” You try to decipher his expression and think if you could get so distracted to forget something you had to work on or revisit.  “The song?”
He shakes his head. “I might…” he pauses, trying to find a way to say what he wants to say that’s not so humiliating, but then he gives up with a heavy sigh that rolls from his lips. “Okay, I need help.”
“You?” You scream, attracting some attention on you, and Haechan glares at you, pulling you to the sides so that the curious gazes can linger away from you.
“Yes, me,” he replies through gritted teeth. “It’s just a small thing, but I don’t get it.”
You smirk smugly and he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I can’t wait to tutor you,” you reply, starting to walk to his group of friends’ table.
“Why can’t I ever win with you?” He whispers, shaking his head and following you.
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You’re not sure Haechan told you the truth. He is smart but he isn’t the best actor ever, and when he came to your place to try to understand that small thing he didn’t understand in sociology, you were pretty sure it was just an excuse. You explained it in less than five minutes, he got it too quickly and immediately started messing around.
You don’t mind it, though. You enjoy spending some time with him. He’s a good distraction. Surely you would’ve fixed some notes or listened to some lessons instead of… well, instead of being on his lap with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your ass, grinding on him.
You hold in a moan when he concentrates on your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking the spot that makes you shiver. And you’d like to go on like this, but you need more. So you shift on top of his thigh, while yours presses against his hardening dick and makes him growl.
“What are you do—”
“Shh,” you shush him quickly, pressing your thumb on his lips before replacing it with your lips. “Ouch,” you gasp when he bites on your lower lip. “Why did you do that?”
Haechan chuckles, shrugging before leaning close to you again. “Why not?”
You frown but have no intention of carrying it any further. You can feel your panties stick to your skin and you just want to come, not really caring if it’s just like this.
But the moment of intimacy, if you could call it that, gets interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket.
“God, just answer,” you yell when Haechan ignores the third call but whoever is on the other line has no intention to stop trying.
Haechan rolls his eyes as his right hand leaves your ass to search through his pocket and huffs annoyed when he sees the name on the screen.
“Jaemin, what?” Haechan groans as you keep moving on his thighs, ignoring his deadly glare. “No, I’m busy.”
You faintly make out an angry reply from the other side, but you don’t care enough to understand what Jaemin’s saying.
“No, I can’t go out with you.”
“We can,” you reply loudly enough so that Jaemin can hear while Haechan scowls at you again, muttering a scold under his breath, but his anger is quickly addressed to his friend on the other side.
“Yes, I’m with her,” he huffs, rolling his head back, trying to stop your movements but failing. “Don’t ask questions. And yes, fine, fine.”
When he hangs the call after mumbling a quick, annoyed goodbye, you chuckle. “Thought you didn’t want to hear my annoying friends?” It’s all he asks, leaving a small, teasing slap on your asscheek.
“What were we supposed to do? Stay inside all day?”
“Yes, we have everything here,” he says, spreading his arms to point around. “And you’re still grinding on me.” He looks down, eyes narrowing as he stares at your hips. 
“I’ll finish and then we’ll get out,” you wink, starting to move faster but he has no intention to get back into the mood, not yet, at least.  
“You’ll stain my pants and where do I come?” He huffs, and you’re sure he’s trying to find an excuse to don’t go outside rather than one to don’t fuck with you. He would never say no to that, especially when you two are already in the middle of it. 
“Take them off,” you urge, jumping off him, waiting for him to get undressed as you do the same, your panties the only thing staying on.  “Come on. You don’t want to be late.”
Haechan groans, “you’re so… so greedy. You just want everything.”
“Yeah, am I allowed to have one flaw?” You bat your lashes at him, grinning when his eyes roll in the back of his head. “Oh, will I stain the underwear, too?” You ask when his lower half is completely bare to your eyes.
“Honey, I’m not coming inside my boxers, can’t wear your panties to hang out with the boys,” he says annoyed.
You chuckle, climbing on his thigh again, watching him whimper when your bare leg brushes against his dick and you press on him to be as close as you were before.
He doesn’t know why you didn’t take the panties off, but he knows he doesn’t want them there. He wants to feel you on his skin. As hot as this is, he wants to feel your pussy drip down his thigh, and your panties are stopping the full experience.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Donghyuck!” You scream when the sound of the fabric ripping hits your ears and the chill air of the room hits your warm core.
He groans. “It’s so hot when you say my real name with an angry tone, makes it hard to hold back fucking you.”
“You need to stop ripping my stuff,” you complain, trying to hide how hot you found that, the ripping of the panties and that fucking smirk on his face now that he lays back against the headboard of your bed, so proud and snotty that is hard for you to hold back fucking him.
“Shut up, you love it,” he says, pulling you into a rough kiss, pushing your body closer while his hand rests on your hips to guide you in the movements. “Also they weren’t a good pair, if you were in lingerie I would’ve asked you politely to take them off.”
“You will never see me in lingerie,” you retort, pulling away as your hand sneaks down and starts moving up and down on his throbbing cock.
“Fuck,” he groans, “at least warn me?”
“I’m half naked, grinding on top of you and I have to warn you when I grab your dick?” You ask. “If you don’t want, I won’t make you come.”
“No, just —fuck,” he glares at you when you concentrate on the tip, “don’t be a bitch.”
“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckle but still move your hand quickly, following the steady rhythm of your thighs. Your head rolls back when one of his hands creeps under your shirt and cups your boob, his thumb brushing against your hard, sensitive nipple.
Haechan sucks in a deep breath when your thighs start shaking around his and your cum drips down his thigh. “Fuck,” he moans, eyelids fluttering as he looks at you, head reclined back as you hold onto him with only one hand, the other still busy taking care of him. “This is so hot, you are so hot.”
The compliment pushes you closer to reaching your high and when he lifts your shirt to wrap his lips around your sensitive nipple, you lose it.
You whimper and quiver, hips moving messily as you keep riding your high, breath getting stuck in your throat when he accidentally bites you as his orgasm washes over him unexpectedly.
“Fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, and if you weren’t still so lost in your pleasure you would let him know you liked it.
When your hips still, and the dizzying sensation calms down, you lay your head against his shoulder for a while as his arms wrap around your waist.
“Can we stay in?” Haechan pouts when you try to get away from him, reaching for your hand to keep you next to him before he rolls over when you shake your head and jump off the bed. “Please.”
“We can’t always fuck and study and study and fuck,” you reply, cleaning yourself up, holding in a sigh when you realize he stained the cover of your bed with his cum.  
“Who said I want to do either of those things?” He says, looking up at you with puppy eyes, pushing his lower lip out to pity you.
“I know you,” you reply, glaring at him before pulling your pants back on, not even caring about putting on another pair of underwear, you would’ve had to wash all those clothes anyway after taking a well-deserved shower, but for now you only had to pick some clothes to go out with the boys.
“No, let’s stay in and, I don’t know. Should we sing?” He proposes, jumping on his feet and putting his discarded underwear on.
You laugh, staring at him in shock. “You want to sing?”
“Yeah, you have a guitar, right?”
You nod, turning around the corner where your guitar is.
“Don’t you want to hear my angelic voice?”
You take a deep breath at his brag and then exhale loudly. “But Jaemin?”
“Fuck him, I don’t care,” he says while a small victory grin already starts widening on his face. He knows you’re about to give in.  
You huff, rubbing your temples and giving up fighting him when his fingers are already typing on the phone to tell his friend you two can’t come anymore.
When he puts the phone away and smiles at you in anticipation, you sigh. You really are stuck with him, aren’t you?
“Why don’t we prepare biscuits?” You suggest. You wanted to bake something for a while now, but you never really find time to dedicate to the kitchen.
“Biscuits?”
You nod, stealing his sweatshirt to wear on top of your shirt before walking to the kitchen —that space you consider the kitchen. 
“I’m a mess when it comes to cooking, you know, right?” He confesses as he leans against the countertop, watching you move around to grab all the ingredients and tools you need.
“You? Admitting you’re bad at something? To me?” You ask with a teasing tone, but you’re genuinely surprised he let you know without turning even this into a competition.
He fakes a laugh. “Very funny,” he says. “I just don’t want to hear you complain if I make some mistakes and ruin your perfect biscuits.”
You chuckle. “Can you weigh the ingredients and then put them all in a bowl?”
“All at the same time?”
You nod, handing him what he needs and showing him where the scale is. “Is not that hard, even you can do it. Plus, it will be another thing I teach you today,” you wink.
“Careful, baby. Don’t start thinking you’re so much better than me,” he says, starting to weigh the ingredients and putting them in each separate bowl.
You scoff. “Honey, I won’t start thinking that,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder, “I already think that.” You leave a teasing kiss on his cheek before he hits you with the flour and you gasp.
“Oh, no, we’re not doing that,” you warn, taking a step back, seeing how he’s ready with another handful of it.
“Then take it back,” he says nonchalantly.
“I never take back the truth —oh, Jesus Christ, Donghyuck!”
He laughs loudly, bending forward as he glances at you, flour on your face and well, his sweater. “Don’t call my name like that again, though. I won’t resist this time,” he says when he finally stands up and stands right in front of your face. “Now, will you take it back?”
“Never —Ah!” You scream when he lifts you up without a warning and sits you on the table before he starts tickling you. “No, no, please,” you babble, shaking your head and trying to stop his hands on you but he’s faster. “Okay, fine, I’m not better than you — I’m not better than you!”
“Good,” he says, stopping his torture and smiling proudly. “I love it when you listen,” he jokes, kissing you again.
You should hate it —or at least don’t like it so much— when he kisses you like this, out of nowhere, for no reason at all other than wanting to shut you up, or maybe to feel you. But you truly don’t mind. Actually, you lean in for another one, and another one and another… until you feel this is once again going in another direction and, as much as you’d love to indulge in the moment, you want to prepare those biscuits.
“Enough,” you say, pushing him away and jumping off the table. “No more food waste and we’re doing this together.”
You discover you and Haechan work better in the kitchen than in other fields, maybe because there’s no tension pushing you to do better but you are listening to each other, teaching tricks, and simply having fun. And this atmosphere stays with you even when he grabs the guitar and starts playing the tune of your song, you sing some bits of the lyrics and then jokily propose to add some about baking cookies on a cloudy spring afternoon, expecting him to laugh at it but he just smiles and tells you to go on. And you do, mumbling something about being in the kitchen, humming, baking, and laughing. You think it’s too cliché, and you will surely go back to it obsessively until it comes at you like you want it, but he loves it.
Then the oven rings, signalling the biscuits are ready and none of you can believe they came out good, nothing burned, and they’re tasty. Somehow, those cookies, feel like the biggest achievement you two ever made together.
“Maybe we should stop fighting each other,” he mumbles, after chewing his last bite. “We make a pretty great team.”
You smile, cleaning your lips with a napkin, crumbs falling on the table. “Hate to agree, but we do,” you say. “I mean… we kinda teamed up months ago, don’t you think so?”
“We want to kill each other, and you call that teaming up?”
“It’s our way of teaming up,” you reply, handing him a clean napkin so he can clean himself, and he takes it. “We just like to keep the flame alive, if we stopped bickering at all, it wouldn’t be so funny.”
Haechan shrugs, he guesses so. “Not like anybody else ever stood a chance with us on top.”
You chuckle. “Imagine if someone is using our rivalry to get to the top and we never noticed them.”
“Honey, trust me, I would’ve noticed.”
Once you’re done eating, you push him into the shower. There’s flour, and dough on all your clothes, and you still need to wash off the sex of before. You’d opt to shower separately but you’re tight on water and you have to make the best out of the confined space, reason why his plan to fuck another time fails.
“Why are you wearing my pink robe?” You turn around two seconds to grab the towel you prepared for him, and he betrays you. “This was for you,” you say, holding up the white towel as you stand there naked.
“I already put it on, it’s wet,” he says. “Come on, it’s pretty.”
“Yeah, that’s why is my favourite robe,” you pout, but still wrap the towel around you because you don’t want to freeze.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and, before you can even think how, you don’t feel the ground under your feet anymore. Your arms immediately wrap around his shoulders for more safety as you let him carry you outside. You have no idea what is going on today, but you like this, how he’s taking care of you —in his way, of course— and how this feels good.
“You have to change it anyway,” he says when he drops you on the bed and, as soon as you open your mouth, he knows you’re about to complain about the wet towel on the dry covers. “I’ll help you change it later.”
While you change into your new clothes, your pink pyjamas with small black hearts as a pattern, you watch him walk around as if he’s so familiar with the place —not that it would take much for anyone to know where everything is, considering how small it is— but something about it makes a feeling of comfort and warmth spread in your heart. Nobody else had ever been inside that place.
But then you snap out of it and realize he’s naked, and his clothes are dirty, so you rush to the closet to find something to give him.
“So, mhh,” you say, making the things you grabbed fall in front of him, who’s sitting at the table. “I have those sweatpants and a sweater, or these pyjamas if you want it, it’s pink, but it doesn’t look like you care much,” you note, looking at how much he’s rocking your robe.
“Pink pjs! We’ll match,” he says, eyes lighting up as he wastes no moment getting out of the bathrobe.
“Out of the kitchen!”
“There’s not even a wall?”
“Still, get out,” you say, pushing him with force away from there. “Better.”
He rolls his eyes but still grabs the shirt and pulls it on him, blinking when he sees a pair of clean boxers. “Why do you have these?” He still studies them, thinking he has seen them before.
“Because they’re yours,” you say nonchalantly while fixing your hair in a braid.
“They’re mine? I left them here?”
“I might’ve accidentally dragged them with me once,” you confess, looking at him with a big, awkward smile.
“When?”
“When Jaemin almost pushed the door down and we had to rush to get dressed. I just stuffed everything in my bag and your underwear was next to mine so, ta-da,” you say, stretching your arms and shaking your hands to complete the sound effect.
Haechan sighs, nodding. “Of course, it must have been because of Jaemin, somehow.”
“Well, it turned out useful, just put them on. I don’t want to see your dick more than necessary.”
Haechan scoffs and bites back a comment as he finishes getting dressed. “You have to admit I look really good in pink.”
You look at him up and down while he twirls, and you smile. “You would be my favourite Barbie at the mall if they sold you in boxes.”
“God, you’re so annoying, can’t ever make normal compliments,” he complains. “Come on, help me with the bed. It won’t clean itself.”
Making the bed with him is tiresome. His weird way and theories about making it lead you two to bicker more than you should and remake it twice to see who is right —you, obviously. So, once you’re done with it, laying on it with him by your side, you know not even God himself will make you stand up to cook dinner. You don’t need to say a word, Haechan already has his phone out ready to order, and you couldn’t be happier.  
You spend ten minutes deciding what movie to watch and another five bickering because you don’t want to eat on the bed, but he insists you won’t make a mess, and if you do, he will help you clean up. It ends with you giving up and the bell ringing with your order ready.
You never have nights like this. You always try to cook on your own and don’t waste money on eating out, and you also never finish the movie or the series you start, either too tired halfway or with something more important to care about, for example, some notes to copy, or lessons to listen.
But this is nice.
You two joke, laugh, eat, and then you start to feel the sleep take over you, and you don’t think about sending him home or falling asleep on the pillow.
And as you rest your head on his shoulder, Haechan’s more and more sure that his plan failed.
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“You’re playing with me, right?” You ask when Haechan messes up for the nth time. The end of the year is approaching, and you two are getting ready for yet another test, the last before the finals, but right now he’s testing your patience not getting a single answer right. You’ve been stuck in his room for hours now.
“I wish I was, my brain is fried,” he huffs, throwing his head back on his chair.
You’re speechless and you shake your head. “It’s super easy, you were better than me in this class, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap.
“Hey! Why are you so pissed? Shouldn’t you be happy you’ll beat me even in this?”
“Be serious,” you say, sending him a deadly glare. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m…” he huffs, shaking his head, and turning around in his chair to avoid you. “I’m just stressed for a lot of things. I’m tired, I didn’t sleep tonight.”
“You struggled even last week. And when the Professor asked you something in class you gave an answer that is just not you,” you say, cutting off his bullshit, grabbing the armrest of the chair, and forcing him to face you with a rough tug on the chair.
“There are too many things to remember,” he says, after frowning at how harsh you have been. “It’s not that I don’t know, it’s that I mess it all up.”
You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Do I have to motivate you?”
He lifts his head, staring at you with a furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Let’s play a game,” you say, sitting better on the chair, and Haechan gulps when doing so your skirt —short skirt, incredibly short skirt— rises. He will never tell you, but the way you show up on your dates is another reason why he can’t concentrate. It’s May, it’s so hot. It’s your excuse, but he would bet you’re also doing it to mess up with him.
“No,” he replies, already fearing your proposal.
“Why not? You didn’t hear it, yet.”
He sighs but signals you to go on with a quick movement of his fingers.
“So, we’ll revisit once again, I’ll try to explain all your doubts. Then, I’ll ask you a question, if you get it right, I’ll take off one piece of clothes, if you get it wrong, you’ll take off one, and vice versa.”
“How studying with you butt-naked would make me learn more things?” He almost screams in a high-pitched voice.
“See!” You say. “You’re already starting with the idea you’ll lose.”
“Because I can’t get anything in my brain, and if I get it right then you’ll have to take something off and all I’ll think about will be… you.” I already only think about you, he’d like to add, but that’s too humiliating. Just like the grin on your face. He hates how weak he is. He hates how easy it is for you to win battle after battle. And he hates even more that his plan is showing flaws with each passing day. He doesn’t want you to be his Waterloo, but he’s not sure he can come up with another strategy soon enough to beat you. 
“Fine, then no study-strip-poker,” you give up, but the smug smirk on your face doesn’t drop when you start to think of something else that could motivate him, it only grows bigger when you finally get it. “If you answer right to at least ten of the fifteen questions, I’ll suck your dick.”
Haechan gulps. His eyes immediately fall on your lips as his brain starts to wander on lands he shouldn’t think about, not now at least, not when he has a bigger obstacle to face if he wants to get there.
“Hey,” you call his attention, snapping your fingers and waving them in front of his face. “It has to be motivation, not distraction. Do you want me?”
He huffs, throwing his head back. “Can’t we just fuck and then we’ll start again?” He pouts like he does every time he wants something from you.
“No,” you reply sternly, stealing his sweatshirt from his chair and putting it on you. “You don’t get the prize if you don’t win.”
“That’s not fair. And why are you covering up?”
“So you can’t distract yourself,” you say. You might like to tease him with more revealing clothes, but your intent is never to get him to be this distracted. You don’t want to be the reason he will fail this last test.
“You’re not my distraction,” he scoffs, diverting his gaze, and moving closer to his desk.
You decide to ignore him, you know the truth, and as much as the idea of him starting to lose because he’s too busy thinking of you, sends you on cloud nine, you also don’t want him to do terribly, especially in a class you know he loves and is good at.
“I know the theory,” he says, stopping you from going back to the start. “I wouldn’t be able to produce songs if I didn’t.”
“Yeah, but you just failed to explain how you create and add effects, and you forgot the basic difference between the dry sound and the wet sound, so revisiting some theory won’t hurt.”
Haechan sighs but soon gives up as you hand him your notes. He always thought you were crazy for also having printed pictures of how the software works but now that he needs it, he couldn’t be more grateful that you’re so precise with everything.
You start explaining things once again, cutting short about the most basic notions and diving deeper into the last lessons, as you try to stop as much as you can to make sure he’s still following you. And, after almost an hour, you’re done.
“What are you doing?” He asks when you take off his sweater again. “What about my concentration?”
“I needed your focus while I was explaining, now you have to answer even if you have distractions.”
He huffs loudly, throwing his head back. “But don’t play dirty, you can’t touch yourself or anything like that.”
“I’m not that cruel, I just want you to answer me,” you say. “So, let’s start with an easy one, should we?”
Haechan answers the first questions with ease, not like he usually would, but it’s still better than the mess of before. And he would be so close to getting the last one that keeps him on thin ice, he only got five wrong...
“No, no, no, please,” he begs, trying to stop you in place. “Please, give me one last chance. Ask me just one last question.”
“You got six wrong, babe,” you reply, loving how he’s almost on the verge of tears as his big brown eyes look up at you.
“But it was hard, I will never remember all the types of old reverbs unit,” he whines, coming closer to you.
“Then why do I?”
“Don’t lie, you don’t remember them either, I can’t even pronounce some of those names.”
You chuckle. “Oh, it’s really funny when the lack of a good fuck gets in your brain.” It’s not about sound design anymore. It’s about the desperation behind his eyes; knowing he wants you so much even if you’re the biggest reason for his despair gets your body hot and your pussy wet.
He groans, slumping back on his chair as he gives up on you. Or so he thinks because when he doesn’t pity you enough and you’re still packing your things to leave, he’s back again with his complaint.
“Please, one last chance? I didn’t mess the others up, I just made some tiny mistakes.”
“And you didn’t answer to two,” you say, ignoring him, trying to keep a serious face to not show your true emotions.
“Do I have to get on my knees?”
You snicker. “You look good on your knees,” you taunt but you don’t expect him to do that. “Get up!”
“Not until you give me another chance,” he retorts. “Please.”
You huff, rolling your eyes. “Fine, but just one.”
He nods enthusiastically, almost looking like a puppy being teased with a treat before he sits up in front of you.
“The differences, all the differences, between the shelving equalizer and the peaking equalizer.”
“Okay, I know this one, I know it,” he says before he starts explaining without missing a single detail. “So?” He asks with eyes full of hope as if he doesn’t know he just gave you a perfect answer.
“It was… great,” you tease him but you can’t keep a straight face when you see the pout on his face. “Kidding, kidding, you answered perfectly. So, I guess you deserve your prize.”
“Yes,” he screams, and in a second he throws himself on you but you shake your head and push him back on his chair. “What?”
“You sit there and let me handle this,” you say, placing your hands on his thighs. “Take them off,” you order, tilting your head to point at his grey pants. You see he’s confused about where you want this to go, but he obeys you anyway. “Everything,” you add when he’s still in his boxers. “Good boy, come here,” you say, patting your lap.
Haechan frowns. “You said you were going to suck me off.”
“I know, and have I ever break my promises?”
“I don’t know.”
“Just trust me and come here,” you order, waiting for him to follow. “Can’t believe you’ve been this hard all this time,” you say, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, starting to pump the pre-cum that leaked.
“You teased me,” he huffs, trying to keep his composure as he watches your hand moving on him delicately.
“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” you pout, one hand sneaking under his big white shirt to tease his nipples.
“Don’t,” he mutters, but you only laugh.
“Don’t, what? Let me take care of you, you’re stressed.”
He doesn’t reply, his head falls back as your movements on his dick quicken. He feels so small in your hold and he should find this more embarrassing but he doesn’t care. He loves the way your hand wanders delicately on his body and your lips leave pecks on his neck while the movements on his dick are fast enough to give him what he wants but not too fast to ruin this moment.
Your hands keep moving while your lips kiss his neck and jaw.
“Feels so good,” Donghyuck hums, shifting in your lap.
“I told you,” you chuckle, watching him roll his head back on your shoulder as his eyes close. “The others will hear you,” you say when his whimpers get louder.
“Don’t care,” he moans. “Feels too good.”
You smile and shrug. If he doesn't care, who are you to worry about it? It’s not like they don’t know what happens between you two.
So you quicken your hand, sliding up and down his sensitive dick so fast you make him tremble in your hold.
“You’re so cute like this, you know?” You say. “You look so small and delicate.” You expect him to get mad but instead, he moans and nods swiftly. And you know that stress got him good. Donghyuck, admitting to be vulnerable in your hands? You can only thank the weight the University is putting on his shoulders. But if that’s a way to make it go away, you can’t complain.
“I’m gonna — gonna come,” he whimpers when you start rubbing your thumb on his tip. “Fuck.”
You trap his scream with your other hand, staring at him as he slumps against you as his orgasm washes over him, squirting white strings of cum on your hand and his crumpled shirt.
“Get on the bed,” you urge while lifting the shirt off his body, leaving him naked. He barely has time to put himself together, but you don’t care and you know he needs more too.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that you’re still all dressed up?” He asks, still sitting on top of you.
“Do you want me to suck your dick, or do you want me to leave?” Is the only thing you have to say to make him obey with no more complaints. “Good. You should be thankful I gave you another chance. Right now you would be masturbating all alone and have no knowledge of sound design, so… what do we say?”
“What do you want me to say? You didn’t—”
“What do we say?” You shut him up, pulling his hair back harshly as your body weights on his lap, eliciting a broken groan.
“Tha — thank you,” he mumbles, cock throbbing right against your thigh. “Thank you but, please, do something, I’m… I need you.”
You snicker, letting go of his head and crawling back on the bed. “You’re so pathetic,” you mock, grabbing his dick again. “Begging on your knees just because you wanted my mouth.”
Haechan groans, throwing his head back but the harsh slap on his thigh makes him snap his eyes open.
“Why?” He squeaks.
“Eyes on me when I’m talking to you,” you order before lowering down so you can tease his tip with your tongue, making him bite back a loud moan.
“Please,” he pleads, and you finally give in. When you take him in your mouth, the broken breath that rolls from his lips makes your pussy clench around nothing.
“Shit,” he moans, fists clenching in the sheets as you suck harder, moving your head up and down in quick movements. He wants to look at you, knowing it will be even harder to not come on the spot, but he’s fighting with so many parts of him, he doesn’t know what to do.
When you pull away to look at him, he whines, hips bucking up in search of physical contact. You snicker, “and then I am the greedy one?”
“You’ve been teasing since you stepped inside the house,” he whines, trying to grab your hand but you don’t let him. “Come on, I’ve been good.”
It’s true, he has been good, but you don’t want him to come yet. “You can’t come, not yet.”
“Fine, just — just don’t tease me. Please,” he cries, begging you with his eyes.
You start taking care of him seriously; bobbing your head up and down while your hand wraps at his base to touch him where you can’t reach. Your movements are quick, but not too messy, since you’re trying to avoid creating a pool of spit and pre-cum all over his lap.
“Your mouth, fuck,” he groans, involuntarily fucking into your throat and uttering a slurred apology. “You’re just so good. God,” he curses, and you catch him rolling his eyes. “Even at — even at this you’re good.”
You snicker to yourself and keep focusing on his dick, heavy on your tongue as you suck with force.
You might be too good, cause it doesn’t take a lot for him to explode in your mouth; a brief warning for you to choose if you want to pull away and then the pleasure runs through his body for the second time.
You barely have time to clean your chin from the cum that dripped down that Haechan pulls you close to him, kissing you intensely while his hands are all over your body. “Want you, please, please fuck me,” he begs against your lips.
You slip out of your panties, quickly grabbing the base of his cock to line it with your soaked entrance because you can’t wait anymore.
“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet,” he hums when you sink, wrapping your hands around his shoulders.
“Want to take merits for this, too?”
“Well, yes,” he retorts. “Shit, don’t move, it’s not fair.”
“Everything is fair between us,” you say, starting to pick up a rhythm that makes him struggle to come up with a snarky reply. “Loss of words?”
He groans, throwing his head back and tightening the hold around your waist. “You can —mmph— you can talk all you want but —ugh— I am the reason why you’re soaked.” Somehow the way you’re bouncing on his dick it’s not enough to wipe away that smug smirk off his face, and you can’t stand it.
“Just shut the fuck up and enjoy this, will you?” You snap before kissing him roughly, cupping his chin with force before nibbling his lower lip, making him hiss. “I like it when you moan, so please, just fucking moan. The only words I want to hear are my name and begs.”
Your “threat” is effective because he doesn’t dare to open his mouth again.
“Good boy,” you praise without ever stopping to kiss him and moving your hips at a quick but regular speed.
You quickly realize that stress has gotten to you, too. You love to pretend it doesn’t affect you, and that you don’t need to let off steam, but you do. You are desperate to feel carefree for a few moments, put all the books and papers behind and have fun. And worst, you need him.
Donghyuck is what makes you feel good. It doesn’t matter if it’s mostly physical, he takes you to another world every time. He makes you feel wanted, he puts you through the test, but he makes everything worth it.
You’re so sure of it as you let your body crush against his, your fleshes meeting in a messed-up tangle of flaws. The kinds of flaws you both grew close enough to show each other.
In a few minutes, waves of pleasure hit you both and your bodies collapse into each other as you keep lazily riding that sensation; muscles on fire, lips meeting in messy kisses, moans panting the room, and your hands looking for each other.
When you lay on the bed side by side, you feel disconnected, and, truly, the only thing you’d like to do is to close your eyes and fall asleep, but your eyes fall on the clock against the wall and remind you why you went to his place.
“Five minutes and then we’re revisiting again,” you say, knowing the only way to get up is to say that thought out loud.  
Donghyuck groans, pressing his face against you and mumbling, “can I eat you out if I make no mistakes this time?”
“We’ll see.”
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You’re woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of the piano playing from the living room. The other side of the bed is empty, and the sheets are crumpled up, signalling you Haechan got up somewhere during the night.
You two went on a trip the whole weekend. Not like you had a choice when he passed by your place and told you to get in the car without giving you any information. You got mad at him when he told you it wasn’t a one-day thing, but you were too far from town to even think of going back. And even if initially you were angry because your plans for the weekend were different —studying all day for three days— your anger disappeared quickly.
This is the second night out; you spent the entire day wandering around a town you didn’t even know before and got closer to each other. You love the thrill with him, but you soon realize you also love it when there’s peace between you. It’s impossible for you to don’t bicker, but you learned how to balance everything. And the more you get to know him, the more you like him.
“Can’t sleep?” You ask, watching his features being lit up by the faint moonlight and a small lamp at the side of the piano. It’s an old one, almost left abandoned in the living room of the small, cheap house you’re staying in for the night.
Donghyuck shakes his head. “Got a tune I couldn’t get off my mind so… here we are.”
You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit next to him. You don’t talk, you only watch his fingers move on the notes looking like ballet dancers. You’ve never seen him play the piano before, you weren’t even sure he could. But you’re amazed at how many things he’s talented at, the guitar, the piano, production, singing, dancing —and making your days less grey.
You don’t tell him, you only lean in, resting your head on his shoulder as he keeps playing the sweet melody.
“It’s…” he huffs, stopping for a second. “Doesn’t it sound messy?”
“Not at all,” you reply. “It sounds upbeat. Happy.”
“Out of all the ways you can describe music,” he chuckles, looking at you.
You look up, shrugging. “I’m describing how it’s making me feel.”
“Yeah? And what does it feel like?”
“Play it again,” you say, closing your eyes and letting the tune lull you. “It feels like spring. Like a field full of sunflowers, the ones you see at the side of the highway, passing by so fast before you can even get lost in their beauty.”
Haechan chuckles, holding back the big smile on his face. “It reminds me of those late summer evenings, when the heat dims a bit and the sky is pale pink and purple and blue, and time is frozen.”
“Yeah, when you’re ten and you don’t want summer to end because it means you have to go back to school,” you smile. “When you would stay out all day and come home with the smell of your favourite cake that your mom just baked.”
“Really? Your mom would bake that too?”
You nod. “Chocolate cake, basic and too messy for the heat of summer. But my mom loves me too much to don’t bake it for me, even if it’s 30° outside.”
Haechan chuckles, and his fingers start moving faster, starting the melody of what could be the chorus of the tune.
“In this part, it feels like a wave. I’m picturing running on the beach as the waves crash at your feet and the wind blows against your face.”
“Why are you smiling?” He asks.
You shake your head. “I — I can… it feels oddly romantic, a bit tormented, maybe confused, but in love,” you whisper. He gives you a weird look, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re not using technical words to describe it or because you’re just weird. But there’s a reason you’re not being technical, you’re saying what it makes you feel, the vivid pictures in your mind. And, somehow, there’s you and him.
You two on the beach, walking on the sand before he starts running, teasing you to follow him. There’s the scent of the sea filling your nostrils and your lungs burning up as you reach him and then fall in his arms and feel your heart explode.
“It’s an unexpected feeling, something that wasn’t supposed to happen and then… changed everything. It’s thrilling. Scary, but satisfying.” You avoid his gaze but hear him hum in agreement, and wonder if he’s thinking the same, if he can feel this tension.
“So, something that sweeps everything like a wave,” he asks, and you nod. “Sunset,” he adds, smiling at you, slowing down the rhythm of his fingers. “I can also see the sunset colouring the scene. The kind that makes you look up and stare in awe like a child.”
“The one we saw yesterday,” you reply shyly. “It made your eyes look even more brown,” you confess, watching his cheeks tint up of rose.
“The kind that leaves you breathless,” he whispers. His fingers are still moving but they’re playing the same notes, he’s too busy staring into your eyes, leaning closer to you.
“And speechless.”
And a bit closer.
“And grateful you’re on earth.”
And closer.
You move back, coughing and lowering your head because you feel on fire. Is he making fun of you? Does he feel this? Why is he so confusing?
“It feels like a road trip with nowhere to go,” you say to fill the silence, and your words make him play again. “The calm while everything outside is falling apart.”
“Like running to your safe place?”
You nod. “It feels like… home.”
He smiles, looking in your direction while his fingers still play that sweet melody. “I always believed home is a person, even people, but not a place.”
You swallow, staring at his lips before your eyes meet his. “I’ve forgotten that feeling quite some time ago,” you whisper, feeling your head spin. You left home and never looked back, eager to chase your dreams, the ones you’ve been fighting hard to achieve since you were a child, but in that marathon to success, you’re starting to realize you lost something.
“You just need to find the right people, and then never let go.” He leans closer to you, hands falling from the piano as he leans in completely to trap your lips in a kiss. His hand cups your face while the other moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and moving his thumb in small circles. You feel like your lungs are on fire, and your legs are weak, but your heart never pumped harder than this. And when he slowly pulls away, you’re staring into each other’s eyes.
You know all the words to your song.
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It’s true you’ve tried to avoid Donghyuck’s group of friends as much as you can —mostly to preserve your brain from early injuries— but it’s also true that the end of the second academic year is tearing you apart and you need to do something to don’t go insane.
So here you are, it’s Friday night, at their place, and you’re surrounded. Haechan has left you alone for a moment, busy talking with Mark. Jeno is trying to set up the table in the living room, while Renjun runs after him because ‘things are not perfect enough.’ Yangyang —no, he doesn’t live with them, but for some reason, he is always around— is in the kitchen doing only God knows what.
For your luck, you have Jaemin and the girls by your side. Ningning, who apparently has something going on with Mr Loverboy at your side. Yeri, who is there just to bully Haechan, Mark and Yangyang  —an old tradition that goes on since high school, and you love her for that. And Minjeong, who’s the nicest and yet smartest person you know, you are relieved she is in creative writing with Jaemin. You met them all before, one of the thousand times Donghyuck dragged you around with him, and the four of you got along right away, quickly becoming friends.
“They’re so loud, I would have a constant headache living here,” Yeri huffs loudly, rolling her eyes and falling backwards in Ningning’s arms.
You raise a brow as a ‘told you’ moment.
“They’re not that bad usually,” Jaemin defends, looking at his friends, now all too interested in something that regards what they are supposed to eat.
“Pfft, please, Jaem,” you say, glaring at him.
“How would you know?” He says. “Oh, no, yes, actually you would, you’re always here.”
“See, so stop defending them,” you say before becoming aware of the three sets of eyes boring holes into you. You turn around meeting your three friends and lift a brow in a questing look.
“Why would you always be here?” Ningning teases, nudging you.
You roll your eyes. “Don’t wander too far with your brains. I’ve got a project with Hyuck.”
“Hyuck? You used to go around calling him by his stage name just a few months ago and now it’s Hyuck?” Yeri points out, smirking smugly.
You throw a pillow at her. “He’s always attached to my hip, of course, we got closer,” you explain, frowning.
“Sure, sure,” she laughs. “Not even the boys call him Hyuck.”
“They do,” you retort.
“Of course you know, you’re always here,” Minjeong giggles and you gasp.
“You traitor!” You say, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her as you both laugh.
“Move your asses over here, motherfuc—” Yangyang screams before Renjun slaps a hand on his face.
“I will kill you all one day,” Renjun says, storming into the kitchen to bring more drinks as you sit down around the table.
“Please leave us out of it,” Yeri screams loud enough so he can hear.
“Sure, you can even help me get it done if you want to,” he says, sitting between Jeno and Yangyang, handing the bottles around.
“I’m in,” the four of you say simultaneously, raising your hands and they all gasp as they glare at you.
“Guess we better sleep with our eyes open tonight,” Yangyang mutters.
“You should always sleep with one eye open,” Yeri threatens, smiling creepily.
You chuckle at their antics, but your attention is caught by Donghyuck who sits by your side. “Would you kill me?”
You smile, caressing his hand on his thigh. “Honey, what are you saying? You would be the first that has to go.”
The smile on his face drops and you laugh, turning to the table to grab something to eat.
“You know,” he whispers, leaning in so only you can hear, “no dick tonight.”
You lower your head, trying to hide the embarrassment, but then lift it up and shake it, fixing your hair behind your ear, and turning to him. “Not like something could’ve happened tonight anyway.”
“Period?”
“People,” you say and he chuckles, opening a can of beer before taking a sip.
“As if that ever stopped you.”
You roll your eyes, stealing the beer from his hand, “as if that ever stopped you.”
He smiles, resting his head on his palm as he looks at you. “You never said no, though.”
You wave him off, returning your attention to the table, but it doesn’t last much, they’re deep in a heated conversation and you’re missing something. “Why are they bickering… again?”
Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, grabbing a spring roll, dipping it in the soy sauce before taking a bite. You roll your eyes because you need to be updated right away but when you look at him munching happily you can’t hold back a smile.
“So,” he says, cleaning his lips after he swallowed, “Jeno wants Renjun for a project, but Renjun has war traumas of the last time they did a shooting together and doesn’t want to.”
You giggle, grabbing a spring roll too, and dipping it in the same small cup of Donghyuck, while you both pay attention to the conversation.
“But you’re perfect for it,” Jeno insists, shaking Renjun from his shoulders, not caring about the pissed-off expression of the older.
“I’m literally not, ask anybody else but me,” Renjun repeats, a deep crease visible on his forehead.
“But you look like an angel,” Jeno pouts, finally stopping his movements and batting his lashes to gain some pity.
“I might look like an angel, but I feel Satan rising in me every time you talk,” he says, making everybody laugh before he glances, and the room goes quiet.
“Come on, how bad can it be?” Minjeong says, and you see her shift closer to Mark, but you don’t say anything.
Renjun groans, throwing his head back. He can’t believe he might be convinced into this by the end of the night. “He’s too much of a perfectionist, and I’m not comfortable in front of the camera. Also, he’s not rich enough to have a studio and he always takes ages to put the light boxes in their place once he’s done.”
“Oh, I won’t annoy you, I promise,” Jeno begs again.
“We can rent a studio,” you say, all eyes on you. “I mean,” you cough, placing the small bite of the roll left on the plate in front of you, “me and Hyu— Donghyuck have to shoot the cover for the songwriting project, I don’t think we can wait any longer since we also have to record the song and then come up with an advertising strategy.”
“Then rent a studio?” Renjun says, coming out colder than he intends to. “No, wait, I just don’t get why you have to drag me in this.”
“Jeno proposed to be our photographer, but I doubt we can do it at home. And since we wouldn’t be paying for his job. Sorry,” you mouth quickly glancing at Jeno who shrugs and smiles at you. “We can at least put the money for the studio.”
“And where do I fit in this,” he cries, shoulders slumping as he knows there’s no way out of this, no matter what you say next.
“Well, since you pay the studio per hour, I don’t think Jeno will torture you much. He takes two hours with you and two hours with us and in a day, we are done. Also, if there are four of us, we can be quicker,” you finish explaining, hearing some hums of agreement from your other friends.
Jeno doesn’t say a word, he’s only smiling widely with his face close to Renjun’s as the latter regrets all the life choices that brought him here. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he exhales, groaning when Jeno hugs him and screams a cheer in his ear. “Step away before I change my mind,” he warns, slapping Jeno’s arm and glaring at him when he does as told.
Yeri sighs deeply at your side, rolling her eyes and muttering, “children.”
You chuckle, finishing your roll, and stealing Donghyuck’s beer again before talking to him. “So, I guess we’re almost done.”
“Almost done? You still didn’t show me the lyrics, have you even written them?”
“Hey,” you scold. “Are you doubting me?”
“I don’t know, last time I checked, you were the one struggling. I offered you four bases, and all the words I’ve read from you ended up crumpled in the bin.”
You sigh. “I’ve got the song,” you reassure him.
“Really?”
“Yeah, and I also picked the production. I mean, I… I wrote it because of that production.”
Haechan’s smirk widens when you start stuttering and looking away, trying to look unsuspicious in your friends’ eyes. “Really? And why are you shying away?”
You almost jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, resting on your bare skin under the skirt. “I’m not,” you whisper, trying to keep cool.
He snickers. “You know I’ll have to see it and you can’t keep it a secret from me, right?”
“I know, I don’t want it to be a secret. You’ll read it.”
He squeezes your thigh, and you glare at him. “Not now.”
“Right, later, under the cover when we’ll watch a movie,” he jokes.
Yeri coughs beside you and you see your entire life pass in front of your eyes, but you fake nonchalance and turn to her. “Need something? Some water?”
“Some tea, honey, some tea,” she says, raising a brow and pointing at the man at your side, now busy talking with Yangyang.
“I can make some.”
“Stop playing me,” she whispers, sending you a deadly glare. She can be scary at times, you’re not surprised the boys listen to her in the blink of an eye.
“He’s just being stupid, he flirts even with walls,” you say.
“Does he touch their thighs?”
“No, he’s not,” you say, only to gasp when she looks down and his hand is still on you. You push it away but he puts it right where it was and you can only sigh.
Yeri snickers. “Ah, l’amour.”
Your head rolls back as you let out an annoyed sigh. “Love my ass.”
Yeri shrugs, sipping from her small bottle of soju. “Don’t care, there’s still something going on, and I’m interested.”
“I’d love to mock you with somebody but you’re more closed than an unopened can of beans.”
“You are so bad with words. How do you write songs?”
“I don’t write about beans, clearly,” you say seriously before you both laugh.
“You two, mind to share what’s funny with the class?” Ningning calls you out.
“Sorry Professor Ning, we’ll be even more annoying next time,” Yeri retorts.
“Why do I feel you’re quoting something we can’t understand?” Renjun says.
“Because you’re right,” Yeri replies.
“Yesterday Yeri almost got us expelled,” Ningning says with a forced smile on her face, making you all gasp.
“What happened to sharing information?” Mark screams, leaning in with interest.
“Why do you care so much?” Yeri shrugs, grabbing a bowl of tteokbokki to eat.
“Mh, hello? You got your asses out of Uni,” Minjeong says.
Yeri only rolls her eyes, resting her head on Ningning. “If a tteokbokki falls on my clothes you’re dead,” the blonde-haired warns before bringing her gaze to all of you. “In her defense, it wasn’t her fault. Not at the start, at least.”
“No,” Yeri retorts, sitting up straight again, and placing the bowl on the table, “it wasn’t my fault, period.”
“Here she goes again,” Ningning sighs, puffing and shaking her head, making you chuckle. But Yeri is not paying her attention, too busy telling the facts right.
“Professor Choi hates us and treats us like kids. Not only his lessons are boring, and I would like to add, useless, but he also thinks we’re in kindergarten.”
“Did you fight with him?” Jeno questions, frowning, already fearing a positive answer.
Yeri gulps, looking around to take time to answer.
“Oh, God, tell me you didn’t,” you say, staring at her with a worried expression.
“He asked for blood,” she says, getting fired up.
“You fought a Professor?” Jaemin gasps loudly.
“She didn’t,” Ningning intervenes when Yeri is about to open her mouth again. “Just because I was there to babysit her, but she didn’t.”
“I didn’t come here to be treated like a child,” she says, crossing her arms on her chest. “We weren’t even being loud. We were sitting in the back of the class, minding our business and he called us out. There was a group of boys in the middle row watching fucking porn and he called us out.”
“Ew,” it comes out collectively.
“But unless the headphones weren’t connected how would he know?” Yangyang asks.
“I don’t care! He hates us,” she groans.
“So you decided to make him hate you even more? Smart move, Yerim, smart move,” Renjun says sarcastically, and she glares at him.
“I just decided to drag her out when things got a bit heated,” Ningning says.
“Not in a Beyonce way I guess,” Haechan jokes, and Yeri slaps him as you move back to give her space to hit him.
“Hey! Why are you helping her bully me?” He asks offended.
“Cause you deserve it?” You shrug.
Donghyuck looks around in disbelief, groaning when everybody agrees. “Fake ass friends, can’t even trust your own shadow in this group.”
“Back to what matters, safe to say you won’t pass the class,” Renjun says.
“We will, there’s only one lesson left, and we’ll pay attention,” Ningning says and Yeri raises her brows. “We will pay attention. He might hate us, but, you know, a bit of boot-licking and we’ll be fine.”
“Fine,” Yeri gives up. “But only because I don’t want to see him ever again.”
“We once fought so hard we got kicked out,” Haechan confesses, bringing the attention to him.
“You and?” Jeno asks.
“Dumbass, Miss Better than him, thought you heard them bicker every two seconds,” Renjun replies instead, pointing at you with his index finger.
“Hey!” You say. “I mean, thank you for acknowledging I’m better than him but it wasn’t so bad.”
“Oh, trust me, it was,” Mark comments before drinking his beer.
“And you were teaching us a lesson, uh?” Yeri teases, eyebrow raised at you two.
“We didn’t insult the Professor,” you explain. “We were just at each other’s throat.”
“Why?” Minjeong asks.
“Honestly? Can’t remember, we fight about everything,” Donghyuck replies.
“We don’t fight,” you clarify. “We discuss. And sometimes things take a bad turn. Not anymore, we learned how to survive with each other.”
“Oh, I’m sure,” giggles Yeri and you kick her knee with yours, making her groan.
Haechan sends you a look you ignore, and you go on explaining. “We were just stating our thoughts, but we weren’t exactly agreeing, and we couldn’t stop, so the Professor told us to take it somewhere else.”
“And you did? You simply could’ve stopped,” Renjun asks in disbelief. He can’t believe he thought you were normal.
“We had business to settle, okay?” You explain.
“Oh, and we sure did,” Haechan chuckles under his breath or so he thinks because the room goes quiet, and you think you want to strangle him.
You have to come up with something.
“You only won because I gave up,” you say, looking into his eyes, seeing the devilish glint behind, warning him to not say a word more.
“You always give up if there’s a prize you can take,” he clicks his tongue and you gulp.
“Oookay, weird tension in the room, it’s clear the only one not getting laid is me,” Yangyang cheers, bringing you two out of your competitive stare. You’d like to complain, saying it’s not what he thinks about, but you’re still stuck, brain busy thinking about something else.
“This night it’s boring, if we don’t do something funny, I’ll act out my plan of killing you all,” Renjun says, standing up.
“I still don’t know whether you’re joking or not,” Mark says.
“Because I’m not.”
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“Caught you!”
“Hyuck!” You scream, turning around, holding a hand over your chest as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulders. “You could’ve killed me.”
“You’re eating cake without me, that’s the crime,” he says, pulling your hand to his face to take a bite.
You roll your eyes. “Jaemin told me he had to store it away because Jeno and Minjeong were eating it all.”
“So, you were hiding, uhm?”
You hum, cutting another piece and diving it in two to give it to him. “He said I could eat it. Also, I think I had too much alcohol and I need to put something in my stomach.” You sit on the countertop and he takes his place between your legs.
“Am I allowed to eat it?”
“I guess so, I’ll take the blame if he says something,” you giggle.
“Don’t think he will notice, too busy dancing with somebody,” he says, hinting at Ningning.  
“They look cute together,” you say, smiling fondly.
“Oh, they do. If only he could grow some balls and confess,” he says.
“Do you confess, Casanova?” You tease.
Donghyuck smirks. “How does it look like?”
You shrug. “Don’t know, you tell me.”
He rolls his eyes before he realizes you two are not together. “Wait, are we… no, never mind,” he says, pulling away, and turning to the door.
You grab his hand, stopping him. “What?”
“Jeno called,” he lies, trying to escape your hold.
“No, he didn’t. He’s sitting with Yangyang passing the blunt around,” you jump off the top and face him. “Are we?” You’re not sure what you expect him to say.
Donghyuck gulps, struggling to keep his eyes on you. “Are you fucking somebody else?”
Whatever you were expecting, that wasn’t it. “Are you?”
“I asked you first,” he retorts.
You blink. “Oh, really?
“Yeah, really.”
“Do I look like I know somebody else besides us?”
“Jeno likes you, and he told me you two are texting.”
“As friends, Hyuck. I already told him I’m taken — I’m not, I’m… I’m taken by other things in my mind. Uni, fighting you, especially fighting you.”
Donghyuck snickers, not really what he expected from you, but deep down —not even so deep, truly— what he wanted to hear. “Yeah, I agree, you’re taken, mostly by me.”
You’re about to retort but he slips from your hands too soon, leaving the small kitchen to reach the others. But you’re smiling. It’s a dumb, small smile that lights up your face in the dark of the night, and your heart pumps. You two didn’t name any of this, but —bickering aside— you objectively know you acted like a couple. It’s not about the sex, it’s about everything else. He started to pick you up before lessons so you could go to class together and sit next to each other —while he did everything he could to distract you. You ate at your friends’ table at lunch, went out for dates, and occasionally even slept over. You are taken and probably for longer than you even realise. Donghyuck started filling your days months ago, and even your life.
You’re still caught up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Ningning enter the kitchen.
“I spy with my little eyes something suspicious,” she sings while pouring herself a glass of water, leaning against the countertop where you were before.
“First Yeri, and now you?” You ask, a small smile curling your lips while you walk to lean next to her.
Ningning gasps offended. “She knew before me? Is this how you betray me? After I helped you style your hair?”
You laugh, resting your head on her shoulder, and inhaling deeply; she always smells nice. “I didn’t tell her,” you confess. “Honestly, I don’t even know myself.”
You can’t see her, but you know she’s smiling when her arms wrap around your body.
“So, what is that, love?”
You hum. “I don’t know what it is, but I know I like it.”
“I knew you were a romantic at heart,” she jokes, pulling away to squeeze your cheeks.
“I’m just happy. I don’t think I need to put a name on this… on this happiness.”
A big smile spreads on her face and her eyes crinkle, her hand softly caresses your cheeks. “It’s not only Donghyuck, is it?”
You nod, pressing your lips in a flat line because something about this feels too emotional for you. It’s 11 pm and there’s faint music playing in the living room while people laugh, and joke, sharing a blunt or bottles of alcohol. And you’re in the kitchen talking about a boy you want to kiss and strangle with who, you’re sure, can now consider your best friend. It’s the stupid fun of the early 20s. It’s the sense of something you’ve been missing for too long since you only let yourself be absorbed by your studies, leaving friendship behind.
And when a lonely tear rolls down your eyes, Ningning coos, gently wiping it away. “I’m happy,” you say, nodding.
“I know,” she replies, cupping your face.
“I’ve been on my own since I came here and I never regretted believing in my dreams even if it meant leaving the ones I loved the most behind, but now I realize what I’ve been missing,” you confess. “I love that they’re so loud they give me a headache.” You both chuckle and your hands intertwine. “And I love that we all sit together at lunch even if most of you have to run from the other side of the building. I love how none of you hesitated one moment to consider me part of your group.”
“I’m so happy you’re with us,” she says, smiling. “I guess Donghyuck does something right sometimes.”
You both laugh.
“Yeah, he definitely made my second year less boring than the first one,” you admit.
“Come here, I guess we both could use a hug,” she says, not giving you time to reply before you’re into her arms. You stay like this for a while, and you know more than before that this is what you missed the most. This is what college means. It isn’t in the loud parties, the sex, and the drugs, it’s in the people you do things with. Nine young people like you, trying to survive this craziness by being each other’s strength. You can still look at your goal right in the eye even if you have fun, even if you date, even if you have someone to walk down this road with.
“You know, I knew you were a good one when you slammed your fist on the table at lunch when he made you fuck up the essay,” Ningning confesses when you pull away.
You laugh, wiping away another tear. “I’m glad he did, I wouldn’t be here today if he didn’t.”
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“You and Ning disappeared in the kitchen before,” Donghyuck says, searching in his closet to find something to make you wear for the night.
“Yeah, we talked about us. I know I might not show it, but I’m glad I found this,” you sigh. “I like them.”
Donghyuck smiles, sitting next to you. “They all like you just as much.”
“It’s like I finally have a place where I belong. I have people to rely on, so maybe I’ll learn to stop wanting to deal with everything by myself.”
“I told you life doesn’t have to be lonely,” he says. “I know that coming from me sounded like sabotage but I meant it. Having someone by your side makes everything easier.”
You smile and nod, grabbing the shirt he’s handing you. “I hate to say it, but you were right,” you chuckle. He doesn’t reply and you don’t drag the conversation, simply enjoying the thousands of words you two should be telling each other, but are not ready to face, yet.
“Can I use the bathroom? I need to freshen up a bit,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Most of the others are crushed in the living room, you think you saw Ningning sneak into Jaemin’s room but you were too caught up in Donghyuck to be sure of that, Renjun and Jeno might still be awake but you’re sure that all the weed they smoked won’t make them pay attention to you.
“Sure, if you need towels they’re in the cabinet under the sink,” he tells you, and soon you’re out of the room.
It doesn’t take you long to clean yourself up; you wash your face and steal someone’s products to get rid of your make-up, quickly get rid of your dress, put on some perfume —you’re pretty sure it’s Donghyuck’s cause you smell like him— and then wear the shirt he borrowed.
Once you’re done, you quickly make your way to the kitchen, and, passing in the living room, you see your assumptions are right; there’s no sight of the two love birds, and the only ones awake are Renjun, Jeno and Yeri, while the others are crushed on the sofa. You expect a remark from the girl, but she barely notices you, too busy playing —trying to— something with the other two.
After a few minutes, you’re back in Donghyuck’s room, and you notice he’s changed into something comfortable, too. He’s lost folding his clothes, and you let yourself get lost in his beauty. Too busy fighting him and trying to prove something, you realize you never noticed the smallest details that make him so handsome. The bridge of his nose, his soft lips, the moles on his cheek, his soft brown hair falling around his face.
“You alright?” His voice brings you out of your daydreams and you nod shyly, feeling embarrassed for being caught staring.
“Yeah, everything fine,” you reply, quickly walking to the bed. You see him staring at you with a confused expression, but avoid any awkward moment by reaching for your phone and pretending to be busy. But you’re not busy, you’re confused. You’re not used to this, any of this. Your nights have always been filled with yourself and books (whether for school or your entertainment), and if you felt wilder a movie, rare were the occasions when you would go out with your friends. And regret is creeping on your back. You feel like you lost a lot, you feel like you’ve punished yourself to get where you are now. And you think about love, how you treated your relationships, how little weight you gave them. And when you think about what you felt in these past months you wonder if you have ever even been in love.
“Remind me to never make you drink again if you get this sulky.” Once again, Donghyuck’s voice brings you back to earth, and when you turn toward that sound, you see he’s sitting next to you.
“I’m not sulky,” you chuckle. “I was just thinking about what I said before.”
He hums. “And?”
You shrug. “Nothing. You can’t change the past, I was just… having some bittersweet emotions.” It’s the truth, but you know that deep down your brain is trying to make you focus on the friendships because you don’t want to think about your biggest problem: the man you have by your side. This wasn’t supposed to be whatever it is. It wasn’t supposed to happen. And you don’t hate that it did, but you don’t know how to feel and act about it, cause you didn’t plan it. You couldn’t study this, you couldn’t put this on a PowerPoint and have it all laid out for you to understand it, it’s not logical, it’s not a theory, a study, a thesis, it’s emotion.
“You seemed happy before,” he whispers after a few minutes of silence passed. His hand gently rests on your stomach and you feel your heart race.
“I was,” you reply. “I am. I just wish I found this sooner, I always focused on my studies and career, and looking back at it now, it was lonely. And…” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “I’m jealous of you, ‘cause you managed to be at the top with all of this.”
He chuckles, but it’s a tender sound, and then smiles at you. “Well… I managed until you came around. You…” he coughs, struggling to confess, “you distracted me a bit, so I think you’re better than me at this socializing and rocking your career at the same time thing.”
You laugh. “I distracted you?”
“Just a bit, don’t get too excited,” he warns, falling deeper into the mattress and laying in silence. You have your thoughts tormenting you, but for him, it’s no different. He knows his plan failed. You’ve been filling his thoughts, days and seconds for a few months now. Even when he was studying or recording, somehow, you were always there. At first, for spite, surely, but then, it turned into something else. Hate turned into teasing, teasing turned into lust, and lust turned into something more. He knows he doesn’t just simply want you or need you. He craves you and your company, your study sessions together, your smart talks, your witty words, your annoyed eye-roll when he’s right, and the soft eyes when you listen to him. He craves you and your laugh, the suppressed one during lessons and the loud one when you are alone, or your hidden smirk when he makes you smile even if you don’t want to.
He constantly comes back to you.
“Are you listening or are you avoiding me?” You ask when he doesn’t reply to your question and he shakes his head, mumbling an apology.
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
You chuckle. “It’s alright, it was a bitter question anyway.”
“No come on, ask me again.”
“It was just for fun. I wanted to know if I was the reason why you’ve been doing a bit worst than me lately,” you say. There’s no mockery in your tone, instead it’s light and hides a timid blush as the words roll down your tongue.
Donghyuck’s body shuffles next to yours and only then you realize how intimately close you are, with your legs almost intertwined, his hand still on your stomach and his face resting on your chest. “Well, yes, you were an unexpected presence in my life, so…”
“So…?” You laugh. “Am I so hot I got you horny all the time?” You joke but he doesn’t crack a smile, instead he furrows and stands up to sit on the bed with his arms crossed.
“I’m not that horny,” he murmurs.
Your body mirrors his, and then your hands lift his chin up. “Sorry, I was kidding. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t think you thought about me that much. I wanted to be on top but not like this.”
“Technically, you’re not on top of everything, but anyway, we just spent a lot of time together, you know? So different studying methods and so on, shocked me a bit.”
You raise a brow, not because you’re so pretentious to think you distracted him that much, but because you think you learned to read him a bit and he’s not being honest at all. “Sure, and you weren’t busy thinking of me after our… dates? Coming home and texting me, and telling me how you should’ve been between my thighs instead?”
He blushes, and you can’t believe your eyes. “It only happened once, and either way I never study at night, my pretty brain can’t handle it.”
You laugh. “Your brain is pretty, now?”
“Yeah, of course, everything about me is pretty.” He shrugs.
“You’re a bit of a liar, you know? First telling me I distracted you and then taking it back, but it’s alright, I think we settled this war. We’re equal now, right?”
“I guess you could say that.”
You huff rolling your eyes. “You’re so competitive, God.” You fall on the mattress again. “But maybe it’s good, we can keep this healthy and competitive.”
He hums, thinking about it and then nods. But you don’t expect him to cage you with his body as he sits on top of you and reduces the distance between you. “Doesn’t sound bad, we could try.”
You smile, trying to act nonchalantly, but it’s hard when he’s so close; hair a mess, face tired but still so fucking handsome, and plump lips so temptingly close to yours.
“I want you,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes even if they make your knees buckle.
“I want you, too,” he replies before diving in and kissing you.
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The last weeks before finals are hectic. You and Donghyuck spend all the time studying together. When you’re not locked in the library you’re either at your or his place, and most of the time you end up sleeping over with the excuse of “spending just a few minutes together without thinking about exams.”
Yet, none of you confess anything. Your relationship lingers in that limbo.
In all that chaos, what takes you more time is the songwriting project. You spend days in the studio to record and mix it. Then when you are done, you move to the studio with Jeno to shoot the concept photos. And it would been enough for the exam, but you and Donghyuck just have to go an extra mile, making an entire booklet with the photos and the lyrics inside, the physical CD with the track, the instrumental, and an acapella version.
Even if the shooting is long and tiring, since you have to style and do each other’s make-up, and the only help is from Renjun, you have a lot of fun.
If at the start you feel a bit insecure with the poses, Donghyuck is the perfect partner to have to feel at ease. And Jeno knows how to do his job, making you feel like a queen after the first awkward shots.
“I love how the photos turned out,” Jeno cheers happily on your way to their place. “The three of you are the perfect models. I will annoy you again to build my portfolio.”
Renjun rolls his eyes as his head slams against the bus window.
You chuckle. “Come on, Jun,” you say, pinching his cheek. “You had fun too, you can’t deny that. Also, you got so many beautiful photos for free, I wouldn’t complain.”
“Free? I’d like to remind you I helped you pay for the rent,” he retorts, sitting straight again. “But yeah, I had fun,” he admits, making Jeno clap happily. “But, I will do this again only if she comes with us.”
Jeno bats his eyes at you and you snicker. “Yes, if I am what he needs to be dragged into the studio, I will come with you.”
“I love you,” Jeno screams, hugging you tight. When you hug him back, you make eye contact with Donghyuck, but he swiftly turns his head. Not quick enough to hide he’s not enjoying this so much; jaw tense, fingers closing in a fist.
You find his jealousy of Jeno quite interesting. Even if it’s true you got very close to him, it’s hilarious how Donghyuck thinks anything would happen between you two when Jeno is clearly taken by someone else; someone too busy plotting his murder to realize his feelings, but that’s another matter.
And Donghyuck shows his jealousy even more when, once at home, you sit around the table to watch Jeno post-produce the photos and create the mock-up for the entire project with your supervision.
His arm wraps around your shoulder as he keeps his leg pressed against yours, and you have to hold back a chuckle. Yes, it’s obvious there’s nothing between you and Jeno, but this makes you feel wanted, and you let him show it.
You know you’ll have to deal with other menaces tomorrow; a hangout is already scheduled in the group chat with the girls after a quick text sent right away by Yeri. You love her, you do, but without that, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have four other pairs of eyes set on you — Jaemin and Yangyang are very curious when they want to.
“Are you listening?” Jeno’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.
You blink twice and then mumble, “what?”
He shakes his head. “Do you like the font?”
“Oh,” you whisper. Your eyes adjust again on the screen that you were mindlessly staring at and focus on the project. “Yeah, I love it.”
“We were thinking of not putting our name on it since it’s more trendy lately,” Donghyuck says.
You nod. “Yeah, I think it’s better like this. I also love the picture, I think it would be more powerful without the name on it but we’re not that famous, yet,” you joke making them laugh.
“That’s why I didn’t make it too big, so the focus would be on you two.”
“Love it, that's perfect,” you praise. “Honestly, seeing it all almost done, I feel guilty for not giving you anything.”
Jeno shrugs. “It’s alright. I’m having fun doing this and can put it in my portfolio anyway. I did much worse and less fun for some courses.”
“We will offer you a dinner,” Donghyuck says. “Somewhere cheap, though.”
After a few hours, everything is almost done. Jeno still wants to double-check everything tomorrow before sending it to be printed but the final results won’t differ much.
“So, I think we should celebrate the project that brought you two so close,” Ningning says, winking at the last words, before raising an empty cup.
You chuckle, trying to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but it’s still firm on you. “It’s just a Uni project, there's nothing to celebrate.”
“Well, mine and Mark’s is not that good,” Yangyang snorts. “I don’t understand why you two always want to do so much extra work but whatever makes you happy.”
“We love the song,” Donghyuck replies. “And we’re proud of it so we might as well fool ourselves it might get more than 30 listens on SoundCloud.”
“For me,” Ningning says, “this is huge. One day you’ll be famous and we will get to say we were here from the start, so we need to treat ourselves and party.”
“Yes, let’s treat ourselves to the cheapest pizza on the block. Oh, how I love being an adult,” Yeri huffs, slumping on the couch. “No, but really, this is something to celebrate.” She then moves closer to you so that only you can hear. “And maybe if we get you drunk enough we’ll get juicy info before tomorrow.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fine, order these pizzas and let’s celebrate.”
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The girls don’t get you drunk enough to spill anything but get themselves drunk enough that Jaemin has to drive them back to their place. Truthfully there’s nothing to say anyway. You and Donghyuck still didn’t talk, you didn’t even have sex lately. Too busy with everything, that was the last of your thoughts. But you did sleep together and basically lived in symbiosis. So?
You should feel happy about this project. Academically it will be another success, and honestly, one of your best works so far. So why do you feel this emptiness in your chest now that you’re sitting on a chair in Donghyuck’s bedroom?
This is the end. Now nothing holds you two together, and you fear that what you built over these months might not be strong enough for you to still hang out with you. You wonder if this meant anything to him. Sure, he likes you, but how much? Sex means nothing, and even if said between the lines, he got you to try out romantic things to make you come up with the song. And he succeeded. You have the song, the lyrics you tried so hard to put down. Fake dates, fake flirts, fake everything, but everything you put down is real. And it’s terrifying.
So absorbed by your torments, you don’t see Donghyuck stare at you, standing in front of you changed into fresh clothes.
“Hey.” His voice makes you flinch in surprise and quickly look up at him. There’s a frown on his face. “What’s with that face?”
You shrug, diverting the eye contact.
“Are you not happy with the result?” Donghyuck asks, grabbing the closest chair so he can sit right in front of you.  
“No, I love it. I loved everything so much and that’s why I’m sad.” There are many reasons why, and you’re not a master at dealing with too many emotions at once. Subjects? Books? Essays? Projects? They can fall and pile up on you and you won’t feel the weight of it. But real life? Feelings? Not where you excel.
“Cause you won’t have any excuses to spend time with me and see me?” He teases, chuckling. He’s still the same person you met one year ago but behind his playful voice and acts there’s something tender, at least you like to see it this way.
“Uhm, I hope we will keep seeing each other,” you confess shyly, doing everything in your power to not meet his warm gaze. His hands on his lap are a beautiful view now. “But no…”
His teasing smirk turns apprehensive. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You shrug. This should be the easy thing to confess. A bit humiliating considering showing some weakness to him still feels like letting your mortal enemy pour salt in your open wounds, but you’re hiding more vulnerable things from him.  
“Nothing but… I was so sure I didn’t want to be a singer, and I was more and more sure of working in Pr, and now… I don’t know. I loved writing the song, like I always do, but this time felt different, as if… that’s what I’m supposed to do in my life, you know?” You look up because even if you can’t take a mocking look you have to see his reaction.
He smiles, caressing your cheek. “I think you’re good at it so yeah, you should.”
You’re taken aback by that reply. Deep down you wanted him to shred your dreams cause you feel like all of this is insane, and if you have nobody supporting you maybe you won’t indulge in it. But it’s clear that Donghyuck is not an enemy anymore and has your back now.  
“Yeah but… I loved singing and doing it with you. Being in the studio, recording, but even before when we were working on the melody and everything. And working on the concept? We did all that with just one song, can you imagine what working on an album feels like?”
He smiles and nods. “Well, yeah, I fantasized about it a lot, so yes. But why is it a problem? Why can’t you pick this as a career?”
You can see in his eyes that he’s confused. Not by your change of path, but by your sudden insecurity. Deep down you’re shocked by that too. You have changed goals a few times in your academic career but somehow this feels so different.
“Cause it’s rare to make it,” you mutter, nervously playing with your hands. Truth is, the chances of failure are so big, and you’re not sure you could take it. You and your perfectionism and your need to succeed on the first try.  
“Can’t say you’re wrong, it’s hell out there, but… you’re good, and beautiful, and I’m sure that with your songwriting skills and your voice, someone will notice you.”
He had tried to make a name for himself longer than you, he knows it. During some vulnerable night conversation where you showed him your songs, he told you how many demos he had sent, and how hard he tried to build something at least on the socials. So you don’t care if his words are driven by sympathy, he could discourage you, but instead, he’s supportive, and that’s all you need.
“And what am I without your production? Will you be my Jack Antonoff?”
Donghyuck laughs. “I’d prefer to be your Aaron Dessner.”
“Yeah, fine. I like that Haechan,” you say, highlighting that name that now sounds foreign.
“I don’t want to hear that name roll from your lips anymore,” he chuckles and you hum laughing.   
“Talking about lyrics,” he says after a few seconds, the phrase lingers in the air… “this song was interesting.”
“Interesting? What do you mean? Is it bad?” Your eyes widen and the anxiety that left you jumps at you again.
He shakes his head. “I said interesting, not bad. You should know the difference.”
“It’s not funny, interesting means nothing.”
He chuckles. “Some phrases are interesting… that’s it. They look familiar.”
You feel your body burn up in flames and you have to shift your gaze from him. You should’ve scrapped that, he isn’t dumb. (You believed he was up until two seconds ago, but apparently, he was just waiting for the right moment to trap you.)
“I wonder if something, or someone,” he winks, “inspired you.”
“The sea. When we went there together. The sea inspired me,” you whisper swiftly, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. “That’s why I called it wave.”
Donghyuck laughs. “I’m not talking about the title, and you know it,” he says, resting his hand on your knee. “Flow that I’ve never felt before? Meeting you through distinctive distraction is a miracle?”
“You told me you liked it,” you say, playing innocent.
He rolls his eyes. “I do. I love it, actually. I just wanted to analyse it with you.”
You gulp when his fingers start rubbing on your skin. “We should’ve done it before recording it, don’t you think?”
He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I want to do it now. I think I already know who inspired you.”
“The sea —”
“Drop it,” he retorts sternly, squeezing your knee. “I think our plan worked. Well, unless you found someone else who inspired you to write a love song.”
“It’s barely a love song,” you stutter, body heating up.
“Right, some lyrics felt sexy,” he giggles. “You’re such a master in holding me here and there and going up and up down and down again.”
You try to scoot away, but he blocks you by putting his feet under the leg of the chair. “So what? Also, you’re dirty-minded, that’s not what it means…”
He snickers, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Why are you so flustered then?”
“Cause you’re too close to me, I can barely breathe.”
“Mhh… it reminds me of something.”
You roll your head back and mutter a curse under your breath. “Isn’t it what you wanted? To inspire me? I did it. I romanticized everything and we got the song.”
“Romantized everything,” he hums. “In this wave called you that’s pushing in, I fall in love. You are the center of my heart. Feeling new, feel now. The wave that started because of you, babe. Dive into the world called you. Damn, your creativity is so good, you are talented.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No, I…” he sighs annoyed. “If you wrote it down in a song, why can’t you say it to my face?”
You gulp. “I have nothing to tell you.”
He raises a brow. “So you’re still confused. Should I satisfy you to hear you say it?”
You hide your face in your hands and groan. “Fine,” you snap. “I — I wrote that about you. And I, God, this is humiliating. You heard the song, you sang it. Do you want me to say it out loud? Was that not enough?”
Donghyuck smiles, and, for a moment, you fear he will break into a mocking laugh, but instead, his smile gets bigger. “Yes, I knew it,” he screams.
“Oh… of course it’s funny to you, maybe this is what you wanted all along, make me fall in love and then make fun of me.”
“Fall in love?” He whispers, stopping in his tracks to look at you, and only then you realise you said it loud and clear. And it’s worse than saying it in a song. “You love me seriously? Like it’s not just attraction and maybe liking me?”
You feel like choking up on tears but try not to show it. “So you can laugh at me more?”
“Why would I laugh at you? I just want to know if what you feel is real,” he replies, and somehow he sounds even more annoyed than before.
You hum and nod, no words can leave your mouth.
“Did you really think I would use this against you? Don’t you trust me?”
“I — I… I don’t know, okay? I do, but also, this was… this was all fake, just to write that song and now it’s real. And it was never supposed to be real, and maybe you never wanted me, cause I’m not your type and you hated me and we both wanted this to be over and now I feel like I can barely breathe without you, and I know that in the song I said I would’ve left the decision in your hands but the idea of you not wanting me back makes me sick and I —”
Your words fall into a void as he kisses you with no hesitation. Hands cupping your wet face and holding the back of your neck to keep you close.
“You’re so fucking stupid. So, so smart and yet such an idiot when it comes to feelings,” he chuckles when he pulls away. “You said I was an unexpected thing that completely changed your flow but do you have any idea of what you were to me? You ruined my second year,” he confesses, and your face quickly shifts into a worried expression, but he clears your doubts right away.  
“I thought I could beat you, I thought I could have the upper hand and… you messed up my days and nights. I thought you couldn’t fill up so much of my time when I already had so many friends but, fuck, I was wrong. And instead of distracting you, I let you distract me.”
“But I — I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want to —”
His thumb shushes you as his eyes crease in a smile. “You didn’t do anything, I just miscalculated. I didn’t know the amazing person you are, and let jealousy consume me before love took its place without me even noticing.”
You almost gasp. “Love? So, you do love me back?”
He nods. “Strong word, I know. But goddam, you were ten times cheesier in the song.”
You laugh and he does the same.
“But I am hurt, though. I can’t believe you thought I was playing you.”
“What were the chances you were going to fall for me, too? Nobody ever falls for me.”
“Good thing you only needed me to fall for you,” he says, kissing you. “So… did you fall for me at the beach?”
“I was confused back then. I knew I felt something but I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was only attraction, but at the same time, I felt like I needed you, you know?”
“And to think I wasn’t even sure of taking you there,” he giggles.
“Really?”
He nods. “I wanted to study, I already felt like I was falling behind and I thought I could use those three days to catch up, but then you crossed my mind and I forgot about the rest.”
You look down to hide the big smile on your face. No, you’re not happy you almost made him fail his second year in this war, but you love knowing how much he cares about you. The old Donghyuck would’ve never confessed this, he would’ve never shown how weak you make him. But now he’s proudly telling you how you genuinely occupied his thoughts.
“I know I didn’t show signs of failure, but you did succeed in your plan just a bit.”
He snorts. “Don’t need fools gold.”
“No, I’m serious. I mean, maybe you’re right, you didn’t, but I think you succeeded in something better. You showed me I can achieve my academic goals and still live life. You showed me so much. I had fun on my own, and I loved it, but I also only had myself and nobody to count on, and that sucks.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Yes you did, you pushed me out of my comfort zone and trust me, I did panic sometimes. I just hide it better. But you gave me the chance to meet seven amazing people allowing me in your friend’s group. Some of you have known each other for so long, that’s probably when I should’ve put my heart at ease and realised you truly cared about me.”
“You fail to understand how likeable you are. Everybody loves you, you just don’t pay them attention.”
You shrug. He’s probably right. You never cared about that, but you won’t start caring about it now. You found your people, you found your place.
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Staying at his place for the night is tempting, but, truth be told, you two want to be on your own on your first night as lovers. So, with the excuse of wanting to eat an ice cream (not an excuse, you will eat ice cream), you slip out of the place.
The others don’t care. Honestly, it’s clear that everyone except you two was expecting this ending, but you will deal with this tomorrow at lunch with the girls. For now, you chuckle at Jeno’s wink before he rests his head on Renjun’s shoulder again, who barely waves goodbye before going back to the movie they’re watching. Mark seems to be the only one confused at the way your arms are linked when you walk through the living room, but you’re sure that Yangyang, who has a teasing smirk on his face, will fill him in as soon as you’re out of the door. Jaemin will sneak at the girls’ hang-out tomorrow, his face lets it all known.
“I love this place,” Donghyuck says when you enter your apartment.
“Really? This hole?” You chuckle, leaving your bag at the door and getting rid of your shoes.
He nods. “It’s cosy and quiet, and I get to have you all to myself.” Before he finishes the phrases he pulls you in his hold, almost making you lose your balance and you scold him.
“Can you be less clumsy?”
“Mhh... no.”
“Also, it’s not like not being alone ever stopped you from being the clingiest man on earth.”
He huffs, throwing his head back as he slowly starts walking backwards to reach the bed. “As if you don’t like it.”
“You got us many suspicious looks,” you complain.
“Girl, everybody knew about us,” he says, falling on the bed with you. “I fear they were betting on a situationship but well, we didn’t do anything to keep this on the low.”
You shrug. “Whatever,” you say, caressing his face to move the hair on his eyes. “I don’t care. Tonight I just want to think about us.”
“Now you’re talking,” he hums happily. “Can I get a chocolate-less kiss?”
You laugh. “You can get all the kisses you want.”
Your lips connect to his to start a sweet kiss that lasts for a while. You never truly pull away as your hands start moving on each other to get rid of the clothes and leave you half-naked on the bed.
“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs, rolling around so your back is on the mattress before he starts going down. His fingers hook with the band of your panties and pull them down. “A bush?”
You huff. “I was just a bit busy, and didn’t have time to shave.”
“Good. I hope you don’t find time to do it ever again,” he says making you laugh.
“You like it?” You ask.
“I love it,” he replies.
You don’t have time to react because his lips are on you as soon as he's done talking. Your hips buck up and you fail to hold back the moans.
Donghyuck takes his sweet time, licking up stripes to get you wet before he starts sucking on your hardening clit.
Your head rolls back against the pillow and your hands can’t help but tangle in his hair to pull him closer. The groan of pleasure that comes out of his mouth at your gesture makes you tremble.
“So fucking sweet for me,” he mumbles against you. “My sweet girl.”
A dumb grin curls your lips and your eyes try to open to get a glimpse of him. You regret that action cause his pretty face smashed against you as he eats you out as if you're his last meal sends shivers straight to your core.
“Please,” you whimper, making him open his eyes to stare at you. Your throat tightens and you feel like you might pass out from that, but still force yourself to finish the phrase. “Don’t stop, you’re so good. I — I never felt like this.”
He grins, pulling away only to reply. “Yeah? Am I that good?”
You groan. He’s still so competitive and always has to prove a point. But you don’t care. That’s fun. That’s what you love about him. “Yes, you’re that good. Just please, keep doing it.”
“Never planned of stopping.”
When his mouth starts moving on you again you see stars. Your neck falls behind, enjoy the softness of the pillow, and you stop trying to keep it together, moaning loudly and chanting his name.
His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you close to his mouth. And each flick of his tongue pushes the climax closer, making you see stars.
Your breath gets messier as you hit your peak and pleasure takes over your body as you let go to that blissful sensation running inside you.
You’re still gasping for air when you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, slowly entering you.
“Hyuck, what are you—?”
“I want you to be ready for me,” he says. “I won't make you come another time, I promise. Just getting you wetter.”
You mumble a sound that makes no sense before you decide to relax and enjoy the sensation. It’s not like you would ever complain about his fingers, you simply don’t want to be too sensitive already. But he’s true to his words, his two fingers fuck into you, curling up right on your sweet spot, turning you on more and coating them white.
“Always so good for me,” he praises when he pulls out, sucking them harshly before he leans in to kiss you. Your hands wrap in his hair as you pull him closer, letting your legs wrap around his waist to pull him down. “Damn, calm down,” he chuckles close to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I know, but I want you close.”
Donghyuck smiles. “Unhook your legs for a moment and I’ll be as close as possible.”
Reluctantly, you do as ordered, knowing that as soon as he’ll slip in, your legs will be exactly in the same place.
You barely pay attention when he does, too focused on the gentle kisses he's leaving on the crown of your head, cheeks and neck. Your eyes only open when he bottoms in and brings your legs around himself.
“Happy now?” He asks, brushing behind a few strands of hair that fell on your face.
“More than happy,” you reply smiling. Your body moves on its own when your hips buck up against him, eliciting a deep moan to slip past his lips.
That’s the sign he needs to know he can start moving. One hand places on your waist to keep you in place and the other supports his body as he starts dragging his hips out.
You can feel your heart skip a beat when he leans down and hides in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good, that’s what tricked me to always be close to you,” he mumbles, nibbling your skin.
You chuckle, shaking your head. Even now he has something to say. Still, his words don’t distract him from his actions. With each stroke, he hits deep inside of you, hitting sensitive spots that make your toes curl and your fingers close into fists on the sheets.
After finding the perfect angle, Donghyuck starts speeding up, his thrusts not harsh but fast enough to build up a steady rhythm. And, with each one, you feel a wave of pleasure invading you.
“Come here,” you whisper, cupping his face to pull him close. “Wanna kiss you.” Your lips are on his right away and you both let go to a long passionate kiss as the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. One hand leaves his face to run on his back, feeling his muscles flex.
Your moans get louder with every passing second but they end up muffled in the messy kiss you’re still sharing.
When his hand sneaks between your bodies, so he can touch your clit in quick circular motions, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls clench hard around him, and more wetness coats him as your hips buck up for more friction. And the last drop comes from his lips, leaving yours to wrap around your sensitive nipples.
“Hyuck,” your voice trembles as you call for him. Pleading eyes looking up at him. You should say something sex-related, maybe praise how good he’s making you feel, or how close you are, but even if those are the thoughts on the tip of your tongue, the words that come out are completely different. “I love you,” you whisper in a hush, feeling the weight disappear from your chest. Saying it clearly is like finally coming to the real realization.
Donghyuck smiles, kissing you repeatedly on the lips. “I love you, too.”
And soon after, you both reach your peak. The pleasure shoots through your bodies like fireworks in the sky.
You stay like that for a few minutes, kissing each other as you wait for your bodies to calm down.
When he slips out of you gently, putting his shirt under your body to avoid a mess, you still have a dumb, but content, smile on your face.
You don’t have the energy to move, so you lay there as you watch him move around to grab new clothes and two glasses of water. Just the time to pull yourself together, and you’re once again under the bedsheets, cuddled up against each other. You relax at the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on the back of your neck and let his heartbeat be a sweet melody.
Mamma Mia is playing on the TV, but none of you has much energy to sing along to ABBA’s songs —he has a bit more than you as he hums the words.
When he chuckles, you look up at him.
“What’s so funny?” You ask, staring at the tv with a frown on your face. The SOS scene not being exactly one of the funniest one.
“I was thinking about us,” he says.
“I do hope we won’t end up like this.”
“Yeah, no, but you ended up being my Waterloo, I guess,” he whispers, looking at you. And then you get it, remembering when he sang it to you.
“I told you,” you reply, making him gasp offended. “What? You expected me to say something nice? You mocked me, you bragged and I cursed you with eternal love for me.”
Donghyuck laughs and then wraps his arms around you to pull you flatter against him, resting his chin on your head.
“You know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to beat you, right?” He chuckles, but when you lift your gaze, getting a glimpse of him, you see his serious expression. And you hope he's true to his intention and that that spark set by your ambition will never die.
You smile smugly before relaxing against his warm embrace. “Yeah, but we’ll see if I’ll let you.”
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YEARS LATER
“Is everything alright? Why are you looking at us like this?” You ask, shifting on your seat on the couch, looking at the girl in front of you.
“Is it true?”
“What?” Donghyuck says.
“Is it true that you two couldn’t stand each other?” She says, big brown eyes staring at you with curiosity.
You quirk a brow, giving your full attention to your daughter. “Why this sudden question?”
“Cause it’s embarrassing to see tweets of people going insane over you two, but also I think it’s unfair how these strangers seem to know more about my parents than me.”
You and Donghyuck laugh. “And what do they say?"
She rolls her eyes. “That they can’t believe you hated each other and that you started dating her to distract her but ended up falling for her?”
You look at each other smirking before a tender, nostalgic smile takes its place.
“Would it be so terrible?” He asks, tilting his head.
She thinks about it for a moment and then replies. “It would be a bit embarrassing for you, Dad. But also... cute. So?”
“I’d say it’s true,” he replies, shrugging.
“Wait, so you really started dating because you hated each other?” She screams, sitting straight on the loveseat, leaning toward you with her body.
You chuckle. “We didn’t hate each other. We believed we could outdo the other. And your father did too much, as always.”
“You were miserable before me,” Donghyuck replies, tightening his hold around your waist. “I had a plan, and it would’ve worked.”
You roll your eyes. “Imagine thinking you could make me fall in love and not fall in love with me,” you say to your daughter. “I was a real heartbreaker back then.”
“You still are,” she replies, smiling. “My friends go insane every time they realize who my parents are.”
Your daughter never brags about being your child. The famous singer, producer, and dancer Haechan, and you, who had a good launch as a singer before you realized that wasn’t your world and decided to stick to be a choreographer and PR manager (well, mostly Donghyuck’s choreographer and his manager). But everyone close to her knows who she is, and it’s not easy to act nonchalantly about it.
She has heard many stories about you two. The gossip about your story running wild since you broke into the industry. But you never sat down and explained it to her, not until now.
“We still have our charm,” Donghyuck laughs.
“I think the most important thing is your love and that you might be the best parents in the world. But I’m saying it officially only if you don’t turn it into a race.”
“Us? Turning something into a competition? We would never,” Donghyuck jokes.
She rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. And you can’t help but smile thinking how similar to your husband she looks right now.
“Honey, forgive us. How do you think we’re still having so much fun after all these years? That’s how we thrive, we learned how to push each other healthily.”
“Yeah, fine, I’m glad your love story is still perfect, but seriously, no competition when it comes to me. I love you both so much.”
“Come here,” you say, patting the space in front of you on the couch. Hugging her when she sits down between you two. “You are the only thing we won’t turn into a competition.”
Donghyuck hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around you two. “We both won with you.”
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general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo
fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,
@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,
@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,
@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,
@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun, @shxnz
@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained
@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno
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pitchsidestories · 2 months
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the kids are alright II Barcelona Femení x Reader
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masterlist I word count: 1666
a/n: inspired by this request here, enjoy.
summary: the Barça youngsters see Lucy and you as their team mums, a game against your Spanish teammates doesn’t change the love you've for them.
pairings: Barcelona Femeni x Reader (platonic), Lucy Bronze x Reader (romantic)
Such team mums.
She had even dared to add an eye-rolling emoji to her comment.
You sighed.
This was not what you had expected when you checked your phone right after training ended.
Not even your Instagram posts were save from the Barca youngsters.
The notification saying that Esmee had commented under your post had already made you nervous, but you had not expected to be called that.
And the likes on her comment! Way too many in your humble opinion.
You scanned your post again. It was a simple photo of you and Lucy at your last game with Esmee, Vicky and Salma sandwiched between the two of you.
You shook your head slightly. Calling you and Lucy team mums had apparently become a running gag between the youngsters. And had now also made it to social media.
When you looked over, Esmee was in the motion of leaving the training pitch, looking as innocent as ever. Like she hadn’t just called you a team mum on the internet.
Lucy appeared on your side, sipping water from her water bottle. Her cheeks were still red from the training session.
Wordlessly, you thrusted your phone towards Lucy.
You watched as she studied the photo. She then turned to you with an “Is she really serious right now?“-look.
“Esmee!“
The dutch player blinked innocently at her: “Yes, Lucy?“
“I swear I will delete all your damn comments!“, the defender threatened, only the slightest quirk of her mouth revealed that she wasn’t serious.
Esmee smirked: “I don’t know why you’re so upset about that.“
“We’re not your mums!“, Lucy said with emphasis.
“No. But you behave like you are.“, Vicky sided with Esmee, smiling brightly at you.
You grimaced: “We don’t.“
“Sure.“, Salma grinned.
You and Lucy shared an annoyed look.
You decided to finally give up: “Alright, see you children on the pitch next week for the England versus Spain match. Except for Esmee.“
“We’ll beat you.“, Salma shrugged unimpressed.
Esmee rolled her eyes: “I will totally have a hard time without anyone telling me what to do.“
Mapi wrapped her arms around the young Dutch player from behind: “Don’t worry, Esmee. You’ll still have me for that.“
Esmee shot her a critical look: “You’re not a mum, Mapi. You’re more like the crazy aunt.“
“Excuse me?!“ Mapis face dropped and you had to bite back your laughter.
“Ignore the kid, Mapi.“, Lucy adviced with a dismissive hand gesture.
Mapi turned to Esmee: “Don’t you dare comment that on my posts.“
You sighed quietly. Of course, Mapi had already seen the comment too.
“I’d never.“, the Dutch player promised, her voice dripping with innocence.
You shot her an amused glance: “Lies.“
The cold temperature and the rain that just wouldn't stop made you shiver, even as a woman born in England. You had to admit to yourself that by now you were spoilt by the sun and warmth of Barcelona. How you yearned for that in this moment!
It wasn't long until the game, both teams were just surveying the pitch and you realised that the young Spanish players were not happy about the weather conditions.
“Hi children.”, Lucy was the first to greet them with a huge grin on her lips.
“Hey, mums.”, Jana chirmed.
“Ready for the game?”, the older defender asked.
“We’re.”, Salma nodded enthusiastically.
“And you’re not too cold? That’s quite a weather change from Barcelona?”, you raised an eyebrow worriedly.
“Mum mode activated.”, Vicky rolled her eyes at you.
“I was just asking!”, you protested laughing.
“We’re fine.”, the seventeen-year-old assured you.
“Good.”, you remarked.
“And we’re not even on your team.”, Salma threw in with an amused smile.
“I know.”, you told her.
“Just letting you kids know that I’ll go as hard in as I’ve to but after the game I’ll check if you’re okay.”, Lucy warned them.
“We don’t need to be looked after.”, Vicky insisted.
It would be a tough 90-minute game. The rain which kept pouring made the grass slippery underneath the players feet. Somehow Beth was able to score in the last minute of the game and the lionesses pulled the Arsenal forward into a group hug.
Afterwards your girlfriend and you walked to the defeated Spanish players, you promised them to do a jersey exchange, but you knew the small gesture wouldn’t help against the pain of their loss. 
“You weren’t bad either.”, Salma replied.
“Weren’t bad? We won.”, Lucy reminded her.
“Yeah, you did.”, Vicky muttered, shoulders shrink while she looked down to the wet grass, the watery pearls seemed like tears.
“Congrats Kei, Luce and y/n.”, Alexia hugged each of you. The captain of your club team was clearly disappointed in their performance as a whole but especially by her own. 
“Thanks. Good game, Ale.”, you responded truthfully.
“You were great too.”, she admitted, happy to have you usually in her team and not as an opponent.
Suddenly you realized that your girlfriend who didn’t leave your side since the referee had ended the game wasn’t there anymore.
“Where’s Lucy?”, you wanted to know from your teammate.
“She’s babysitting again.”, Alexia explained grinning, pointing into the direction where Lucy was handing the young Barcelona girls their jackets, making sure they’re staying warm despite the cold.
“It’s cute.”, you commented, seeing their interactions and your lover in the centre of it warmed your heart.
“Thanks for cheering them up, they need that. It wasn’t a good game.”, the midfielder said gratefully.
You trained your gaze back on Alexia and gently smiled at her: “You’re welcome. Losing is always hard, especially when you’re young and not used to it.“
“Right.“, she replied, biting her lip.
You knew that she still struggled with lost games, even as an experienced player so you quietly pulled her in for a hug.
She didn’t fight it and relaxed a bit. Enough for you to know that she had needed the hug.
Lucys voice drifted towards you as she instructed the young players: “Don’t forget your recovery, girls!“
“Sure, Lucia.“, Vicky said in a mocking tone and rolled her eyes.
At the same time Alexia let go of you, pulling out of the embrace and looked over at her teammates. With a stern expression, she watched as the younger players slowly made their way towards the dressing rooms.
“And keep your head high!“, you called after them.
Salma turned her head towards you and grimaced.
You almost laughed about her reaction. They might make fun of you, calling you team mums but they enjoyed being the children a little too much as well.
Janas face appeared next to Alexia, beaming at you and Lucy who finally joined your group now that the children were taken care of.
“You’d be such good mums one day!“, she squealed.
Alexia shrugged nonchalantly: “Agreed. But no pressure, I want to have you two as long in my team as possible.“
She raised her eyebrows with a smirk.
“So do we.“, you laughed.
Lucy grinned: “Don’t worry, we have enough children for now.“
“We do.“, you agreed.
A buzzing noise in the pocket of your jacket startled you. You carefully pulled out your phone, an Instagram notification on your screen.
You already knew what would come next.
“Oh my god, Esmee commented again!“
“Again?!“, Lucy echoed and slid closer to you so she could have a look at your phone too.
“Yes, on the lionesses latest post. See?“
Lucy released a breath: “I’m going to murder her!“
“Don’t.“, you said calmly while replying to Esmees comment with a simple heart emoji.
Maybe it was time to embrace being the team mums.
“I’ll take her phone then!“, Lucy suggested.
“Yes, that’s a good idea.“, you laughed.
Your girlfriend rolled her eyes with obvious fondness: “These children.“
“You love them though.“
“Maybe…“, she admitted slowly but with sparkling eyes. She looked lost in her own thoughts.
Playfully, you elbowed her in the side: “What are you thinking about?“
She shook her head and answered more seriously: “Nothing. Let’s go back to our team.“
“Alright.“, you said, waving goodbye to Alexia and Jana.
“Come on. The children will be alright.”, Lucy remarked softly.
“Fine.”, you agreed, hoping that in the save four walls of your hotel room the defender would be able to tell you what she was thinking about.
Later you were wrapped up in your bathrobe and noticing how unusually quiet your girlfriend was. Cautiously you sat down next to her on the bed.
“Luce, you’ve been suspiciously silent, so what’s on your mind?”
The stillness in the room became almost unbearable to you.
Slowly, the fellow footballer turned her face round to look at you.
“Maybe she’s got a point. We would be great mums.”, Lucy admitted emotionally.
“Yes, I agree.”, you nodded, feeling the significance of this conversation you were having.
“You do?”, the dark-haired woman asked in return.
“Yes, just not because they said it though.”, you emphasized.
“No, of course not.”, Lucy replied.
“Maybe we should give it a try? Not right away but soon?”, you suggested nervously.
“I’d love to have children with you actually.”, Lucy confessed in an earnest tone.
“Me too.”, you told her before she cupped your face with her hands to give you a heartfelt kiss. There was something promising in those kisses like it was the beginning of something new.
A couple of months had passed since the match against Spain. During the dinner with your Barcelona teammates at the training grounds Lucy handed Jana a little box.
The younger woman glanced at your girlfriend excitedly.
“Is this what I think it’s?”
“Find out and open it.”, the older defender smirked.
Your lover didn’t need to tell her twice, Jana unwrapped the box quickly and let out a delighted squeal once the player saw what was inside, a little pair of sneakers.
She knew immediately what the meaning behind those were and went to pull you two into a hug, while the other teammates followed suit.
569 notes · View notes
stevie-petey · 24 days
Note
stug stug stug pleaseee i would LOVE to see something where bug is comforting steve maybe he had a fight w his dad or j in general. i’m so excited for season 4! but obvi take your time j know that we’re all very excited bc we just know that you will blow us away with your writing!!
really missin happy steve and bug so im writin this <33
enjoy !
"i dont think it looks that bad."
"youre a terrible liar, y/n."
"im not lying!" but the way your voice pitches gives it all away, and steve knows it.
"im ruined." he drops his head into your lap, burying his face in the flesh of your thigh. partially because hes mourning the loss of his hair, but mostly because he adores your thighs and revels in them whenever he can.
steve is in mourning. he can be as selfish as he wants when it comes to your thighs. its his god given right as your boyfriend.
knowing what hes doing, you shove steves face away from your thighs, though not unkindly. youre still shy around him, his touch against your bare skin foreign after only a month of dating. steve is gentle and patient with you, he understands that youve never really been in a relationship before, so he takes his time with you.
secretly, you adore how gentle he is. how cautiously he skims his fingers over your waist or how softly he breathes against your neck. it makes everything easier, lighter, for you. to be loved so tenderly without any falsehood behind it.
lost in your honey warmth of love for steve, your fingers tangle through his hair. that is, whats left of it. steves chest faces you, the hem of his shirt has lifted slightly during his complaining. soft skin spills out from underneath, revealing a plush tummy. with a mind of their own, your eyes draw down the lines of his abdomen. a low hum stirs in your own stomach.
"are you seriously checking me out right now?" steve taps your nose with his finger, snapping you out of your daze. "i mean, here i am, the love of your life, mourning the loss of beautiful hair that was taken from us too soon, and youre drooling over me."
you flick his forehead, he scrunches his face, and its familiar and lovely. "i wasnt drooling, i just wasnt listening to your dramatic despair."
steve gasps, hand over his chest. "my hair was murdered!"
"honey, only like, two inches were cut off."
well, more like three, but you wont tell him that.
somehow one of the kids, almost certainly mike, left their chewed up gum on the counter top of family video when they visited earlier today. they came in like a storm, turning the place upside down before you, robin, or steve could even stop them. apparently dustin had wanted a new movie, will was bored, lucas wanted max to go outside, and el forced mike to join because shes never seen a movie store before.
the wreckage they left behind for such simple reasons for even entering the store in the first place had astounded you.
then, because steve is always perpetually suffering the consequences of the partys actions the most, had dropped his head down onto the counter top in exhaustion as soon as they left.
right in the same spot the gum had been left.
never before have you ever seen steve crumble to the floor quite so suddenly. it was comical, really. the way he shrieked in horror while you and robin watched, neither having any idea what had just happened.
which leads you to now: consoling steve as you comb through his newly cut hair.
"what, are you implying two inches isnt a huge amount of length?" steve raises an eyebrow at you, teasing, and you blush furiously. sparing you, he doesnt point it out and instead changes the topic. "i hate those little heathens, i really do."
"how do we know one of them is the gum culprit?"
"because theyre cursed little shitheads who always mar my appearance one way or another." then, as an afterthought, steve adds, "plus that wheeler kid has a weird obsession with watermelon gum."
again you try to defend the kids, even though you know it was most definitely mike. sure, he shouldnt have left his gum on the counter, but it was funny. "and how do we know it was watermelon gum?"
"i could smell it when robin was cutting all my hair off, angel."
"and yet youre as handsome as ever!" you press a purposely messy kiss atop of steves head, blowing slightly into his face and making a dramatic kissing sound when you pull away. anything to distract him from realizing it was all mikes fault.
gotta protect the little shithead somehow.
steve shrieks, reminiscent of the shriek from earlier, and shoves you away as he wipes at his face. "ew!"
"how dare you wipe my kiss away, steve harrington."
"you spit on me!"
"lovingly."
steve rolls onto his stomach and throws himself onto you. now its your turn to shriek as he throws his weight on top of you, tackling you onto his bed. luckily his parents arent home, otherwise theyd have some very horrified questions.
"steve!" you land with a soft thud on his pillows, and he smiles up from above you. hes all proud, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and his eyes shine with adoration for you.
hes beautiful. you cant believe hes yours.
"youre supposed to be comforting me, angel!" steve presses himself down even more, rendering you unable to move and wiggle away from him. you squeal when his hands find your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tickles you. "i mean, im wounded here!"
you squeal with laughter as his hands attack you, mercilessly, yet gentle nonetheless. "s-steve! stop!"
"not until you apologize to my hair."
"your hair?" more laughter rips from your chest, ribs aching.
"mhm, tell my hair that its still handsome. his feelings are hurt." steve buries his nose into your neck, causing you to giggle even more, and the sound encases his body and reminds him of everything good and lovely.
you try to pull away, but steve has you pinned. "youre-ah! youre such an-an idiot!"
"that doesnt sound like an apology, y/n."
finally giving up, you force out an apology in between breaths of laughter. "i-im sorry! your-your hair is handsome!"
steves fingers leave your sides, but he pulls you deep into his chest and collapses upon you. he nuzzles into your neck, wraps his hands around you, tries to meld the two of you into one. "much better," he mumbles into your skin.
"your hair really is handsome, you know." you draw circles into steves back, breath slowly returning to normal. fingers finding his hair once more, you play with the strands and massage his head with your nails. "youre handsome. two inches lost or not.”
"really?" steve lifts his face, looks down at you, preening at your words with an unusual shyness.
you bring your hands to his face, holding it with all the love you have for him. "the handsomest."
lips find lips, and soon the two of you get lost in each other as you inevitably always do.
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houseofoddballs · 8 months
Text
Fuck it. Trauma bond Ghoap with a forgotten reader because all I can write is angst. Final word count is about 3,700, enjoy! Sorry about the lackluster ending and fair warning that Soap is a bit of a dick and fairly OOC.
Tw: Emptional neglect, light nsfw, mentions of torture. (Tell me if there are any more to add!)
You had never heard of trauma bonding, not before your 6'2 masked boyfriend brought back his Scottish best friend. Ghost was never one to be shy or sheepish, but the way that he bowed his head as he told you that he had fallen in love with Soap during their capture and torture, well, it broke your heart a bit. You thought that was going to be the end of it, that he was going to choose the mowhawked muscle over you (and you couldn't really blame him after the small tidbits about the incident you had heard) but then Ghost dropped to one knee and held your hands in his own as he looked you dead in the eyes and begged you not to make him choose, because he still loved you too. And how were you supposed to turn him down?
So, that's how you ended up living with two discharged military men. At first, things were a little rocky. You and Soap were getting along and getting to know each other after all. You weren't exactly dating Soap, but the threesomes made it hard to understand what exactly you were. Polygamy? It didn't matter, though, because Ghost was the one you loved. Ghost was the man who had stolen your heart and treated it like a golden retriever treats eggs. Gently, softly, sweetly. And you had done your best to do the same.
But Soap? Soap was... different. Where Simon was quiet and calm, Soap was loud and boisterous. Where Simon was introverted and kept to himself, Soap was ambiverted (at best) and loved social media. They were like night and day in a lot of ways, and it made your head spin. Another difference? Soap was SO *clingy*.
It was ok at first. Apparently, Simon and Soap had been captured for nearly a week and took turns watching each other get tortured. In the dead of night, when they got any reprieve, they spent that time whispering sweet words to each other just to keep them level-headed and alive. Trauma bonding. Ghost and Soap were bound to be connected at the hip for at least a bit. Right?
Well, 'just a bit' turned into months. Inseparable. You couldn't get five seconds alone with your boyfriend unless Soap was in the bathroom because he refused to do anything without Ghost.
That would have been OK if you didn't see how much it was wearing on your sweet Simon. Any time you got a minute alone together, he would gently hold your face and apologize to you. Murmur to you with his brows knit up about how exhausting Soap could be and how soothing your quiet company was.
He was burnt-out. No other way to put it. In the fleeting moments you got where you could hold Ghost and do things with him, he was simply exhausted and worn-out from Johnny clinging so tightly to him and making him a part of everything in his life. Simon was definitely an introvert, and hardly ever got time to recharge those batteries on touch and the like.
So what did you do? You gave him space. The time you got to spend alone was spent at a distance, small conversations about the things that interested Ghost, since Soap hardly ever talked about those. You had asked why Johnny was still here if he was really making Ghost so miserable, and all he had told you was that he couldn't leave Johnny, couldn't hurt him. So, you relented and just tried to be supportive. You could be happy like this.
Except you weren't. One can only live on table scraps for so long, but you were willing to try for Ghost, and even for Soap. So when Johnny told Simon that it was irritating how little alone time the two of them got because you were always hanging around and asked him to have a talk with you about it, what did he do? Well, he didn't defend you, that's for sure.
Groceries. How pathetic. Soap finally let you and Ghost get *Groceries* together, just the two of you, and your heart utterly soared. Just you and Simon, for possibly an hour. How long had it been since you could do this? How long had it been since you had even hugged or been hugged by your boyfriend? You had no idea.
But all of that went cold as you finished loading your haul into the trunk. Simon turned to you, dark eyes peeking out from behind his Skull balaclava that he only took off at home. He looked so tired, so exhausted.
"Listen, love... Johnny-..." You froze. Of course, you should have known better. No way Soap would let you and Ghost go somewhere together alone while he just sat at home scrolling through short clips on his phone. Of course, there was a condition, a caviot. But this was Simon, your Ghost, so you heard him out. "Johnny was wondering if you could... give us a bit more space. He feels like he doesn't get enough alone time with me. I'm sorry, love, I promise that I'll make it up to you."
If your heart hadn't sunk into your stomach, you would have had to resist the urge to laugh. Soap wasn't getting enough time with Ghost? The same Soap who had been draining every ounce of willpower out of Ghost until your strong-willed Simon was just complacent? The same Soap who drug Simon wherever he went and whined when you wanted to come with? The same Soap who had kicked you out of your shared room for reasons that you still don't know how he convinced Simon? And yet, he didn't get enough alone time with Simon.
You wanted to scream, to cry, to do or say anything to fight back. But one more look into Simon's weary, amber eyes shut down all of your complaints. He was slowly being worn down, and you didn't know what you could do to help. So, you just nodded.
The entire drive back was silent. At some point, you had reached over and gently held Simon's hand on the center console to let him know that you weren't mad, and he had let you. Your first physical contact with Simon in ages. You helped carry in and put away the groceries, acutely aware of Soaps eyes boring into and watching you for your next move, and then you simply retreated to your room. Alone.
That night, you had to listen as the two made love. Headboard banging against the wall, soft moans permeating through your headphones and into your ears, vibrations buzzing and echoing through the halls. You cred that night, just like so many other nights.
You were being forgotten, forced into invisibility in your own house.
And that's how so many months passed by. With you hiding away in your room and only coming out to eat or eagerly take Johnny's table scraps of Ghost's time. But Ghost hardly ever got any time to himself, so, sometimes you would just let him be and relax. Maybe it was simply time for you to move on.
That's when the texts came. Any time Johnny was gracious enough to give Ghost a moment of peace and you either didn't know or just let him relax, he would text you. "Johnny's still at work." "I miss you, love." "I'm on the couch." "Come see me?"
He was making you feel loved, needed even. Even though most of that time spent was him complaining about Soap, every time he would look at you with those soft brown heart melting eyes and thank you for being so understanding and supportive. He would tell you that he loved you so much and that you didn't know how much having you there kept him sane. And how could you leave him like that?
You wished that you had made Simon choose. Nearly five years of this neglect. Simon was so physically overstimulated by Johnny's constant need to be touching him, that something as small as resting your hand on his thigh made him irritable. Johnny would openly complain about you right in front of you, and Ghost would just sigh and let Johnny think he was having his way because it was better than fighting and dealing with Johnny being bitter and whiny.
It was fucking torture. Do you know what that's like? To be slowly isolated and forgotten in your own household? Yes, you do. Because Johnny has made sure of that. Are you going out too much? Johnny is complaining. Are you working too much? Johnny is complaining. You watch too many shows with them? Johnny is complaining. It was getting to the point where you only left your room to eat and when Simon texted you, period. Soap had insisted that with him and Ghost working civilian jobs, you should stay home to keep things tidy and make life a little easier. All it had taken was for Ghost to agree that that would make things easier for you to relent since your job wasn't the best anyway. But the pure isolation that you felt from only interacting with the two of them unless Johnny was gracious enough to let you come with them on an errand?
It was debilitating.
Finally, everything came to a head. "Hey Johnny, would you go to the corner store and pick up some soda?" "Would you come with?" "I would have bloody come with three hours ago right after work. Now I'm in my fuckin' pajamas. Not goin' anywhere like this." "Well, you know I dinnae like going right after work, Simon."
This was your opportunity, your chance. Soap was nose deep in some book he was reading and only half paying attention while you sat next to Simon on the couch, his feet propped up on your lap.
"I would go with you?" Simon's eyes flicked to you, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah, love, that would be great. Mind makin' a list for me so I know what all we need to pick up?" A task. You loved when Simon gave you things to do, because whith those things to do was always some form of praise or appreciation upon completion. You ate it up whole and completely. "Of course, Si. I'll be ready by five tomorrow." "It's a date then, love."
And so, that's how you flitted around the house all day, straightening up and making a list of what you needed, absolutely giddy and buzzing wirh hopeless excitement. Soap got home early that day, which wasn't much of a shock, just made you retreat into your room early. Nothing new. Simon would text you when he was ready, right?
You sat by your phone eagerly with baited breath. 5:30. You guessed that work had kept Simon late again. It wasn't that big of a deal. But you sent him a text just to let him know that you hadn't forgotten about him. "I'm ready whenever you get off work, no rush. I love you."
5:30 turned to 6:00 and that's when you finally got the message. "I'm here." Short, sweet, to the point. That was Simon for you. You practically threw yourself off of your bed and ran to the garage with a large grin on your face. Even if it was as simple as groceries, you cherished every moment of time you got with Simon as if it were spending time with God himself. Because, in a way, Simon was your God. You looked up to him, depended on him, revered him, practically worshipped the ground he walked on; because he deserved it in your eyes.
Your grin fell at the sight before you. "Oh, hey Bonnie." Soap was hopping out of the passenger seat of Ghost's Jeep, going around to the trunk and popping it to pull out several grocery bags. Hurt, confusion, and betrayal all pooled together in your gut as you watched him take the bags inside all in one go. But, what about your list? Your phone felt heavier in your pocket as your stomach churned at the realization that to bring up the completion of the task would be pointless now.
"Hop in." Ghosts voice shook you from your haze, and you slowly took Soap's empty seat beside Ghost. Why? The question swam through your head in several versions and variations, like fish in a barrel, trying desperately to find the freedom to burst forth from your lips. But, you just couldn't ask, too afraid of the answer.
"Where do you want to go?" The question almost caught you off-guard. Where did you want to go? Did he mean Groceries? Were there some left? Or did he mean just in general? Was he offering to do something with you? "I um, I don't know." You admitted, eyes flicking between Simon and the road.
"...'M sorry love." He admitted with a sigh, shoulders sagging with the weight of the world placed upon them. "There was a bit of a mix-up, ya see? I got home and texted Johnny to ask if he would ask if you were coming-" Of course, the plan had been to bring Soap all along. That hurt a bit. "- and he told me 'no' so I thought he meant that you didn't want to come."
"I didn't get your message until we were already in the bloody market, and when I asked Johnny about it, he told me that he had told me that he didn't ask you. I felt so plum bad because I knew that you wanted to come with. 'M so sorry, love."
You were so close to losing it. Hot tears stung at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall when Simon was trying so hard, going so far as to take you for an extra drive just to make sure you had some time with him and felt loved.
"I already told Johnny, so he knows that I'm spending some time with you. Tried to throw a fit, but I shut him down." Simon sighed and ran a hand down his mask as he looked over at you while stopped at a red light. "It's ok, Simon, really. I'm just happy to spend this time together with you. That's all I can ask for. Even though you're tired after work and going for groceries, you're still taking the time to make it up to me even though it wasn't your fault. I really appreciate it."
Simon didn't pull away as you clasped his hand in your own, softly running your fingers over the back of his knuckles. He looked so grateful and relieved, as if so much pressure had just been released. He had been so worried about how you were going to take it, about if this small bit of time would be enough.
"Thank you, love. You have no idea how much I appreciate you and how-" Simon was cut off by a loud click and a light being turned on on his dashboard. "Bloody hell, check engine? I'm so sorry. It doesn't seem too big a deal, but I should probably check it out before it becomes an issue. Is that OK, love?"
What were you supposed to say? 'No!' 'For the first time in months, I get some time alone with you, and it's just 20 minutes in a car!?' 'I miss you' 'please don't!' You couldn't. Simon was tired enough as it was with Soap clinging to him. You simply felt dejected as you tried to smile and reassure him that it was ok and that you enjoyed your time together.
When you got home, Simon muttered about checking the engine tomorrow as he herded you inside, plopping down on the couch next to Soap. The sight made your heart hurt even more. You were ready to just head to your cold, lonely room to cry out your frustration when Simon piped up. "Hey, love, mind cooking up some chips for me? I'm bloody starving, and they sound wonderful."
How could you say no? Sitting in your kitchen waiting for the French fries to bake, you couldn't do it anymore. You sobbed quietly into your open palm as you clasped your hand over your mouth to quiet any noises. What were you supposed to do? Staying was only wearing you down and tearing you apart. You felt more like the ghost in this household, forgotten and lost. You were losing yourself, touch starved beyond belief and to the point of isolation where you were starting to sleep more than you were awake because it made the pain go away for a bit.
But leaving would be just as hard. You hadn't been employed for so long because the boys took care of you, which wasn't going to look good on a resume, and you had nowhere to go. But worst of all?
Worst of all was how you knew your leaving would affect Simon. Johnny was consuming all of him and leaving mere shreds, and the only time that Ghost got to indulge in his own interests was with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Johnny. You were his support system, his pillar.
You knew this, and yet, it still felt so unfair. Simon was everything to you. When you had been at your worst, he had held you and told you that you were beautiful. When he had been deployed for months at a time, you always texted him and told him how much you loved and missed him. He gave all of himself that he had to give to you before Soap came and statched that all away.
And you couldn't blame Simon for how badly the trauma had messed him up! He still had nightmares about that week. Being tortured and having to watch Soap get tortured as well. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night to one of them screaming and waking up on a picnic only for the other to softly murmur and reassure them that they were ok and alive. You couldn't do that, not for Simon, not like Soap could.
A sharp 'ding' cut off your thoughts as the oven beeped, signaling the end of the potato strings furnace treatment. You pulled them out of the oven and put them on a plate, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up. The time for your little mental breakdown was up. Now you had to go take the fries to Simon like you weren't just bawling, like you were perfectly fine and happy, like you didn't want to scream and shout and beg for things to be different, to change. But that would be selfish of you to do, and Simon couldn't deal with you and Soap both being selfish.
God, you looked like shit. Bags were heavy under your puffy eyes, your nose was red and runny, your face all splochy from your crying, tear streaks running down your cheeks. This wouldn't do. You sighed as you splashed some cold water on your face and took a deep breath, trying desperately to distance yourself and disassociate from these awful feelings.
Once you were sure you looked fine once more, you towled your face off and grabbed the plate, plastering on your 'I'm fine' smile as you took the french fries to Ghost. The way he smiled so softly and gently at you made it all worth it, made you temporarily forget all of that pain. "Thank you, love. You're welcome to stay?"
"No, thank you, I think I'm going to try and catch up in some games. Thank you, though." Ghost didn't press any, didn't ask again. You wished he would ask again, would even try just a bit to make you feel like he loved you a shred as much as you revered him. But you had to remind yourself that you were getting greedy. He had just taken you for a car ride just the two of you, he had just stood up to Soap so you two could have a bit of time alone, he had just done exactly what you were asking him for. And yet you still wanted more.
The realization that you felt terrible for wanting the bare minimum amount of attention and affection for a relationship was just another reminder of how unhealthy this was for you.
"I love you." Simon said, his eyes so soft and sweet. "I love you too." You had to hold back tears as your smile grew a little bit, and you turned. You couldn't even wait until you made it back to your room to start crying. It wasn't fair. You did everything right, did everything Simon asked, and asked nothing in return, you loved him unconditionally with all of your heart and gave all of yourself to him; meanwhile Soap didn't even care enough to give Simon personal space when they were together because it made HIM feel better. And yet, Soap was the one who got all of Simon's time and love simply because it was easier for Simon to cave to his whims than put up with his bitching. You couldn't handle it anymore! Couldn't take it!
But what were you supposed to do? What could you do? Nothing. The only thing you could do was throw a fit, and that would just wear Simon even thinner and wouldn't accomplish anything because things would be the same again within a month.
And so, you did the only thing you could do. You fell asleep crying again, clutching your pillow to your chest, wishing desperately that Simon would finally come to his senses and put you first for once. But you didn't fool yourself into believing it.
Only shooting stars Grant wishes, and all of yours had been shot down.
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i314flix · 1 month
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— PART ONE, PART TWO.
the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.
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pairing: sirius black x fem!reader
word count: 3k
rating: PG-15
content: fluff, established relationship au; gryffindor!reader
warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem
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opening note. it took a whole year for me to finish writing this part two lmao, but for the readers who got to read part one way back, i hope y’all like this!
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Being seen with Sirius—and frequently, might you add—indeed became the talk of the town for the first few days.
As soon as the news spreaded, Iris and Martha, your close friends, interrogated you endlessly inside your shared room at the dormitory, asking a bunch of questions that ranged from how did Sirius confess and what did you feel for the aforementioned guy.
They labeled themselves as ridiculous and as oblivious as you were when they realized that all the gestures that Sirius has been doing in all the times they accused him of liking Iris were actually directed to you. They apologized, for not seeing it themselves and for not thinking of you as the person Sirius liked, and told you that they were going to be happy and supportive of you as long as they saw that you were happy too and that Sirius treated you well.
When your Hogsmeade date came, you spent the whole day just getting to know Sirius. Turns out, he was more well-mannered than you thought. He was a gentleman; he opened doors for you, offered to pay for everything, was the one who ordered your meal, stood up whenever you wanted to follow up something from the counter, and carried your bag when you bought some sweets from Honeydukes.
But what you liked most about him now was how he seemed genuinely interested in you and whatever that happened in your life. He made it apparent that he really was keen on discovering more about who you really were, from your hobbies, to your favorite things, and where you grew up.
“My parents… I don’t know if you’ve heard it from somewhere,” you began as you walked with him back to the path that led back to the Hogwarts castle, “but they’re, uh, Muggles. So, that means—”
“You’re Muggleborn,” Sirius supplied for you, appearing not even the slightest bit bothered by the fact. “And you don’t have any siblings, do you?”
You answered him, quite confused that he didn’t dwell too much on your revelation, but chose to drop it for now. “None.”
“Ah, so that makes you the only witch in your family.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “uh, does that sound okay?”
He glanced at you with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know. You’re a Pureblood, and you come from an excellent line of wizards.”
“You have a point,” he said, still nonchalant as ever, “but I’m… well, you can say I’m a bit different from them. I mean, to start it off, I’m a Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Plus, I’ve moved out from my home decades ago.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I live with James over the summer. His parents treat me as their own. Nicest couple, the Potters.”
“Wow. I never knew.”
“Well, being a teenage runaway and an outcast in my own family isn’t exactly something I should be proud of.”
You both laughed.
You were relieved to find out that there was no issue about you being a Muggleborn, especially since as stated, he came from a family of impressive and some well-known wizards who—from what you remembered—believed that being a Pureblood was equivalent to being practically royalty in the wizarding world.
Even if you knew that he wasn’t like that to begin with, there was still some doubt in your mind that perhaps his mindset is the same as theirs, considering that you’ve been a victim of prejudice over the years you studied in Hogwarts and was even called a Mudblood by a Pureblood student when you surpassed them on an exam in second year.
So, to have a confirmation right now was great. You were happy to hear from him that he didn’t have any problem with it, unlike some people who you’ve caught muttering to themselves about how Sirius could associate himself with a person like you, which inevitably led to some insecurities building up.
“Do you reckon I can get away with taking you out again next week?” asked Sirius once you were back in the Gryffindor common room, stopping before you where you stood at the last step of the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitory.
Your eyebrows rose. “There’ll be a next time?”
“Yes. If that’s okay with you,” he said with a patient smile. “Or did I read the signals wrong and you actually hated spending time with me today?”
“Don’t be foolish. I didn’t hate it.”
“You didn’t?”
“Not one bit.”
“Then how did you like it?” He was suddenly doing it again, that thing he does wherein he moves closer to you and you were bound to move away because of shyness, but somehow at this instance, you couldn’t command your feet to do its usual response.
“Hm?”
“Was it nice?” He continued, a hand now placed on the stairs’ handrail, leaning towards it. “Was it okay? Was it average? Would you ever want to be with me again?” He was teasing, it was evident on his big smile and his mischievous expression.
“I think you already know the answer to that.” You frowned cutely.
“Oh, I really don’t.”
“Sirius…”
“Tell me what you think,” he urged, tone gentle.
There were girls from your house walking down the steps, seeing the scene of Sirius gazing at you and you looking flustered playing in front of them. They hushed among themselves, glancing at you in envy, and you felt your cheeks burn at the attention.
“It was nice.” You told him finally.
“Just nice?”
“Wonderful,” you corrected.
He nodded solemnly, waiting.
“And I’d like to do it again sometime.”
He grinned. “That’s more like it. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
You smiled down at the floor. “As if I was going to say something else.”
He lifted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. “Still, I like hearing it come from your lips.”
Before you went upstairs to your room, Sirius reached for your hand and kissed the back of it, winking at you and then heading to the boy’s dormitory.
For the following weeks, the both of you were consistently hanging out and going on dates. It reached a point wherein your respective friend groups were starting to merge. It was either Martha and Iris who were going to be with you two, while anyone from Sirius’ own friends tagged along and joined the party as well.
You were naturally growing more comfortable with Sirius day by day. You even allowed him to hold your hand by the third date. He has stolen a few kisses on your forehead and cheek, and has laid his head on your lap whenever you were in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sometimes getting your hand and placing it gently on his hair, asking if you would stroke it as he tried to take a nap.
Everything was going at such a smooth and great pace.
Sirius was great. His friends were great. What you were feeling for him was getting stronger.
The only problem was the bitter people who had no business having a say in your blooming relationship.
You knew you shouldn’t mind them, but it was hard when you could hear students whispering about you in classes and during breaks, always going on about how someone like you didn’t seem to be a good fit for Sirius, either in deep belief that Purebloods shouldn’t date Muggleborns or that you were far too quiet and timid to be a wonderful match for the ever so magnetic Sirius Black.
You couldn’t agree more, to be frank. However, your greediness and happiness were what mattered to your most in situations like these that you managed to fade those comments out.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.
Or influenced you to sometimes see yourself in a harsher light.
“I knew you’d still be here,” Sirius spoke from behind you, a quick kiss being planted on your temple before he took the spot next to you on the sofa.
It was past midnight, and you were still working on an essay for History of Magic. You promised Sirius an hour or two ago that you weren’t going to stay up too late, but you haven’t been adding any new paragraphs to your essay because of your overthinking, so that meant you also haven’t reached your personal quota that was made in the first place to prevent you from cramming the said output.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” you replied, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t you say you have training for Quidditch in the morning?”
“I do.”
“Which means you really have to go to bed.”
“I tried to. Really. But I couldn’t.”
“Why not? Do you need warm milk or a frame that has dozens of sheep for you to count to help you get drowsy?”
He rolled his eyes. “Ha, very funny, but I actually wanted to make sure that you were already in your room. It’s not good to be here all alone.”
“I do it all the time. Nobody’s usually up in the common room at this hour, anyways.”
“Well, next time, tell me, so I’ll keep you company.”
“Oh, but that won’t be necessary.”
“I’m aware,” he said. “However, I insist. Come on, love, we’ve talked about this.”
You smiled, apologetic. “Sorry. I should know better, shouldn’t I?”
“Well, you told me that you’re still getting used to it, so I’m not holding that against you.”
“Yeah. But that’s just it, actually. I know that I should be getting used to it. To us… to you… but my brain keeps telling me that it’s bad to do so.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know,” you trailed awkwardly, realizing that you might have said too much, but you didn’t want to stop giving him a little bit more of your thoughts, getting a sudden rush of courage you’ve been wanting to have, “perhaps just, I feel like… I don’t deserve this. Any of what’s happening between us.”
Sirius stared at you, confused. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I just feel like this is all a wonderful dream that I’d have to wake up from soon.”
“____,” he began to say your name, but you shook your head, already sensing where it was heading.
“You don’t have to say anything, Sirius. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you’re making me feel.”
“Then what’s making you think this way? Is it because of what the others are saying?”
In your silence, he got the answer he needed.
“It’s absolute rubbish, you know,” he said. He sat up straight too, appearing more passionate now. “People don’t know what they’re blabbering about. All they want is to stick their noses into others’ businesses when they don’t know anything.”
“Sometimes they have a point, though.”
“Such as?”
“Such as you being a Pureblood and me being a Muggleborn not making any sense.”
He seemed frustrated at that. His nostrils flared a bit when you mentioned it. “Since when did that matter anymore? Lily and James are literally the same.”
“Yeah, but we’re not the same same as them. We’re still different. Lily’s different. She’s much more spectacular than I am.”
 “Come on, you’re being absurd. You’re amazing, ____.”
You had the nerve to laugh. “It’s fine, really. You don’t have to make me feel better. If there’s something that I’m used to, it’s this.” You sighed, going back to your previous position and focusing back on your parchment. “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.”
“No, don’t be,” he reached for your hand and forced you to face him again, in which you did, but you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I should be the one apologizing. I haven’t been checking up on you about this. I should have known better that this was something that would bother you.”
“What do you even see in me, Sirius?”
“What?”
“We nearly have nothing in common. You should be someone who’s at the same level as you are.”
“No, I don’t. I much rather be with you—regardless of how different we are, I don’t particularly care and I never thought of it as an issue nor will I ever do.” Sirius pursed his lips, appearing a bit nervous now because of what he was going to say. “Look, ____, I like you so much. I like every aspect of you and what kind of person you are. I see what you’re made of, and I cherish you very much because of it. I like your kindness, your wit, your energy, and your whole being. You’re simply the easiest person to adore, and I’m utterly puzzled that you cannot see it.”
Your tongue felt dry. No one has ever declared what they felt for you in that manner before. It caused your eyes to tear up a bit at the overwhelming reality that there was a person out there who saw you this way, who liked you for who you are and didn’t give two cents of what others thought of about it. You were so accustomed to being unseen, not given that much importance to, that to have Sirius tell you what you meant to him brought indescribable contentment in your heart.
So, without thinking, you leaned towards him and kissed his lips, bringing your arms around his neck while he parted his mouth in surprise, nonetheless wrapping his own around your waist to support your weight on him.
Sirius reciprocated the kiss, matching the vigor you were showing him, despite being shocked that you were the one who initiated your first ever real kiss with him. He was under the impression that it would take more dates before the both of you would reach this point, a concept that he didn’t have any problem with since he was sincere when he said he’d be patient with you, and that he’d be the one who was going to test the waters before asking if you were good with the thought of him planting a kiss on your lips.
“I like you so much too, Sirius,” you whispered, pulling away and gasping for air. “Having you be in my life is perhaps one of the most unexpected yet greatest things to happen to me.”
He grinned at that, pressing another firm kiss on your lips that made you sigh. “You’re so wonderful, love. I should’ve been with you since first year if only I wasn’t a bloody coward.”
You both laughed at his statement.
“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You have a lifetime now to show me what I’ve been missing.”
“You’re exceptionally bold tonight.” He observed.
“Well, the guy I have been crushing on and dating just made a heartfelt declaration of his attraction to me so I’m feeling my best.”
“About time that he did, honestly. Will this guy have the honor of being officially your boyfriend if he asked tonight?”
Your eyes widened. “That depends. Is he going to ask right now?”
“He’s about to. Just after he stops pretending that he’s pertaining to another guy and not himself.”
Another laugh and you were kissing him again, Sirius holding onto you tightly as he kept you in his embrace.
“Be mine?” he murmured against you, drawing his head back a little so he could stare directly at your eyes.
You smiled. You were on cloud nine; there was nothing that could ruin your entire year. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
Sirius leaned for a longer kiss, much longer than the one you just shared earlier. He thought of how he could stay all night like this, how he might have to fake sickness just to ditch quidditch practices so he wouldn’t have to wake up so damn early, but before he could seriously contemplate it, you retracted your mouth from his and was telling him that he should go back to sleep because he had a tiring day ahead of him.
He frowned, wanting to kiss you again but you shook your head, evading his advances and giggling. “Sirius, you have practice in a few hours,” you told him again, “and I have to finish my essay too. You should head back.”
“For real?”
“For real.”
“But—”
“No, no.” You stood up and pulled him with you. “As your girlfriend now, my opinion holds more bearing, so when I say that you should go back to sleep—”
“I should follow you?” he finished, allowing you to lead him back to where the boy’s dormitory is headed.
You grinned, teasing. “Only if you want to, of course.”
He snorted. “You promise not to stay up too late? Because as your boyfriend, I should be entitled to stop you from making bad decisions as well.”
“Yes, I won’t. You have my word.”
“Good.” Sirius pecked your lips. “Goodnight, beautiful.”
An even bigger grin made its way to your features. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at lunch?”
He nodded. “You’ll probably catch me standing at the Gryffindor table too. I have to announce to the whole school that you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re still available, right?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would.”
“Sirius.”
“Goodnight. Dream of me, would you?” He snickered, abruptly rushing to the dormitory and leaving you there, speechless.
You were positive that he was only bluffing to tease the hell out of you who was not a fan of too much attention, but somehow, considering Sirius’ track record of being mischievous, you suddenly feared that he was not bluffing like you reckoned him to be.
Not to mention that he could be really petty at times too, and given that a lot of students still did not believe that a person like him would like a person like you, making a dramatic proclamation of how much he liked you and how much he hated those who couldn’t keep their idiotic opinions to themselves would certainly make a point.
For some reason, you found yourself smiling at the idea, secretly pleased that you had Sirius—the person you were now sure would move the earth and moon for you if that was what you wanted.
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gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡
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thr0wnawayy · 2 months
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Midoriya's Delusion
This is post that builds upon my previous one, I've copied many of the points I made there to here. Albiet with some corrections and tweaks.
To summarize, I have a bit of a crack theory that chapter 430 isn't as real as we've been led to believe. (As for when this actually takes place, that's up to you but I like to imagine the start of his third year marks the beginning of his mental decline.)
(As an update, I find it dubious whether 8 years have actually passed or if that's also a part of the fantasy. I can see Midoriya becoming so attached to the lie that his reference of time begins to warp)
This theory mostly comes from some inconsistencies in regards to the hero rankings and some other things I've found.
Corrections:
It's left ambiguous whether Best Jeanist and Endeavor are still active. However the fact that people view these two in a postive light (especially after Dabi and the war) still seems absurd.
2. Midoriya wasn't outright abandoned, rather their busy schedules make it hard for their days off to coincide. This falls apart when you look at this panel
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"The rate of new villains keep decreasing and the number of heroes have stabilized"
Besides Ochaco who's funding a quirk counseling project, the rest of the class should be able to make time. Again it's stated that they aren't actually fighting.
There's no real threat to face. Besides PR and Community Service there's bot a whole lot else (besides the occasional natural disaster)
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One could argue it's because the scope of what heroes do is increasing, thus keeping them busy. But again, we see heroes doing exactly what they did before, PR, Advertising and (implied) Showboating.
This leads me to believe that the lack of contact is based in reality, to some extent.
Whether it was by choice or forced by their (1A's) respective PR teams to preserve their images (can't be seen around the "freaks" for too long, now can we?).
The lie comes in the form of busy schedules.
Now whether that's what Midoriya tells himself or what he's been told, I cannot say for certain.
Disturbia:
For those of you who didn't read my last post, you may be wondering, so what's going on?.
Simply put:
Midoriya's having a breakdown fantasy to cope with the fact that he won't be becoming a hero due to the loss of his quirk.
Im aware it sounds crazy but consider the following:
1. Midoriya subconsciously knows the way he's been treated was wrong.
This manifests within the escapists fantasy in Bakugo's drop in the rankings + the attitude surrounding him (as well as his damaged hand never fully healing)
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He meets a kid who just so happens to be in a near exact same position as he once* was (and still is to an extent). One could take this as his mind's way of trying to cope and heal itself, by having Midoriya do what he does best and help others, henceforth working though his trauma by using the kid as a stand in.
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*Even the kid's "bully" seems to be a warped version of Bakugo (perhaps this is how Midoriya tries to fool himself into believing how it was)
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2. We see Kota.
I believe that here, Kota serves as what Midoriya thinks he could have been had he not failed. Kota is the idealized version of Midoriya here, the unobtainable.
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3. A lesson ignored
Apparently people forgot the connection between Endeavor and Shoto. You'd think this would be a good thing as Shoto would be able to become his own person.
This falls flat when you remember that also includes people forgetting the reason and happenings behind Shoto's existence, it feels like Midoriya is trying to have his cake and eat it too
To elaborate, this is a major copout, it allows Shouto to be unaffected by his family's past bith career wise and emotionally. While also feeding into Midoriya's rather toxic belief that forgiveness is required to be a good person.
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(The fact that killing Tomura violated this only adds to my theory that this whole thing is an escapist coping mechanism.)
(You can also add the idea that Tomura didn't forgive society for what they did to him and his friends. That likely broke all the "rules" that Midoriya knew.)
4. The Mech Suit is a massive cope, it's the dying whimper of Midoriya's childish hope that All Might will save the day.
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This time there's no magic quirk, no garrish mech suit, no plot twist.
No. There's only Midoriya and the consequences of his, his classmates and hero societies actions. It doesn't matter how shiny and seamless the illusion, how sweet the lie.
You can't hide the blood.
Concerning Aspects:
That was mostly the revised stuff, let me introduce you to some new points
1. A Frozen Lake
Something I noticed was certain characters seem to be almost frozen in time, as if someone tried to continue a story using scraps of the original text.
The curious case of Rei Himura:
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This scene seems almost stagnant, what was most noticeable was Enji's bandages still being on and Rei still being there.
It's as if Midoriya hasn't seen them in years (or perhaps doesn't want to acknowledge what happened). So his mind uses what he last saw/heard of them, creating a sterile, static scenario. Little better than props.
Those surrounding her (with the exception of Hawks) also seem to be stuck in the past.
It's definitely strange.
2. See No Evil, Hear no Evil, Speak No Evil
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Shigaraki is a representation of Midoriya's repressed guilt and his fears. I believe deep down Midoriya knows that, inevitably the cycle will repeat, so long as the system is allowed fester and wallow in it's complancy.
I find the fact that he's behind Midoriya to be ironic, as if to say: don't look back, don't think about what you've done.
A Symbol of Stagnation:
I should warn you that it does get lengthy from here, however I think it's important to get the full picture. Even if I tend to ramble here.
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It's implied here that Lemillion's the top hero. This is awful for a variety of reasons. Mirio is a horrible symbol.
All Might was flawed for a variety of reasons, but a majority of these were byproducts rather than directly being his own doing.
Mirio on the other hand, has such a cancerous philosophy that it actively harms all who interact with it.
Mirio is a follower, he follows orders first and asks questions never.
Eri is the best example of this. Even after Nighteye's death, Mirio never truly reflects on the damage his actions could have caused ( only saved by the narrative, seriously it's a miracle Eri trusts anyone besides Midoriya after being abandoned like that)
You see, the difference between Toshinori and Mirio lies in their actions and principles.
Mirio left Eri to die, all for the sake of the "mission".
For all the heroes knew, Eri could have been a trafficking victim and either have been killed or relocated. But no, appearances and "gotta catch em all" take priority even after knowing Eri is in the Yakuza's clutches.
Lemillion made the worst decisions possible. He followed a known murder into a secluded, restricted area (with a hostage mind you) bringing his pupil with him.
Willingly ignored blatant signs of abuse (just look at the girl) and played hooky with thre leader of a criminal organization, who is known for his short fuse and willingness to kill.
He did all of that, when he could have easily detained Overhaul at any point (his quirk being a direct counter)
Toroshinori would fight tooth and nail in that situation. Consequences be damned if it meant saving Eri.
Part of the reason Toroshinori was so effective as a hero was 1. His sense of justice and 2. His compassion.
Mirio is a symbol that can be controlled, a weapon if you will.
The fact that Mirio is at the top shows that things haven't changed and are even beginning to decline. So this brings me to my next point
You may be asking, if Midoriya's losing it in his own mind, what's the outside world look really like?.
Allow me to set the stage.
4. Speculation
Within Midoriya's muddled mind, Lemillion represents both his toxic optimism and a subconscious understanding that nothing has changed. It represents denial and acceptance, a dysfunctional middle ground that's easy enough for Midoriya to stomach.
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The truth of the matter is, delusion or not, the reality is soon to sink in.
Something that I don't see discussed is the lack of reactions from other nations or really any insight into how they were affected by everything that happend.
Here's the idea: Most likely they are foaming at the mouth.
Particularly it's the countries who suffered under Imperial Japan in the past (Korea, China, Singapore etc), however this also applies to every nation Nedzu brow beat into aiding with the rebuilding efforts, albiet their reaction would be latent.
Not not only is the attitude painfully reminiscent of how Japan handles it's past atrocities, Japan has had them clean up their messes. seen below:
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(you cannot tell me Big Red Dot over here is having a good time)
From an outside pov. The Commission never told anyone about AFO, rather they suppressed any information, locked him up in Tartarus and then sat on the whole situation until it blew up in their (read: everyones) faces.
He then proceeded to: kill over 8000 people (+ those killed during the Blackout period), kill the top hero of one of the world's most powerful nations and incite mass panic. Destroyed massive amounts of infrastructure and transport nationwide, broke thousands of criminals out of prison, destroying those prisons in the process.
Meanwhile the heroes:
Abandoned civilians in mass by quitting in the middle of a war.
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Left the public in the dark for months and allowing crime and paranoia to grow rampant, even (forcibly) bringing someone they knew was being targeted by AFO and his forces to the one place they could find shelter.
Mutilated a seven year old girl. Who has a history of being mutilated for the gain of others and patted themselves on the back. (Also having no holdup on how that may effect her physically via her quirk or mentally via her trauma)
Mic: tried to kill a docile prisoner who could be considered in comatose, based off of his emotional attachment to a dead man + viewing it as justified if it meant Spinner couldn't get to him.
Used hospital staff and patients as meatshields (Central Hospital) during a riot.
Most had no qualms supporting a child beating eugenicist and implied marital rapist, even with his one of his victims exposed him and citing it as his main reason for turning to villainy.
Held an illegal questioning* with said abuser while ignoring his main victim (Rei, who is probably the most reliable source of information there)
(*which effectively is like conducting an investigation on yourself and declaring you are not guilty)
And so much more! (But this post is getting too long)
My point is by the time everything was said and done, it seemed everyone but Japan was paying for it.
It's outright stated that the US president risked national security by sending every hero they had to help Japan. (Impeachment worthy if you ask me)
Endeavor's little plan to kill himself and Dabi in a blaze of death ended up disrupting the weather. Very likely it'll end up resembling an El Niño phenomenon, only vastly off schedule and even more destructive than normal.
For Reference [https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/ninonina.html]
Very likely it'll lead to an agricultural drought in the northern America's and mass flooding in southern America's, likely starting at the west coast and bleeding inland. Leading to a domino effect where cost of living surges due to the sudden displacement of people and the rapid loss of products.
Worse still, because the US had no heroes (likely for months on end), crime has likely surged in the America's, which will further impact the rest of the world.
The rebuilding efforts likely emptied the wallets of most participating countries, leaving them unable to help anyone, including themselves.
Also keep in mind that Japan incriminated themselves with the Business Course footage. I don't think the general public (outside of Japan) is going to take too kindly to a known murder and abuse apologist being in charge of a system already known for it's corruption.
The end result is likely be a world that detests Japan, either from a moral perspective (Rei's treatment + the treatment of those society abandoned), a financial perspective (we can't afford shit and you contributed to that) or historical perspective (you do this everytime and ignore the consequences).
A world divided by struggle and united by an immense loathing for the Commission's Japan and the culture surrounding it.
Oh, don't forget there's no finding left for quirk research. Meaning that it's very likely no one will be prepared for quirk singularity to start manifesting in the upcoming generations (Thanks Nedzu).
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Update: Can I just say that Aizawa's lack of ownership infuriates me even though this is likely a fantasy and not grounded in reality.
Like what the fuck do you mean "with the way he talks, it was pointless" Fantasy Aizawa.
Because "Hey Asshole", You deliberately ignored his attitude and offenses!. And what? Now your just gonna shrug it off like it wasn't your fault. To hell with that you had two years, most teacher are said to only get one. As you so graciously mentioned at the start of this shit show of an epilouge.
Heres the moment I'm referring to btw:
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While we're at it. Are you telling me it was too hard to get Momo some proper attire all three fucking years she was at UA for.
Not to mention Toru is still naked, how the fuck hasn't she died yet, she is literally exposed to the elements (and lord help her of she gets a cut)
Kirishima's costume is still his biggest liability considering it exposes his chest and back (also seeing as even when hardened he can't repell bullets)
Does Denki still fry himself with his quirk?
Before we move on Aizawa. How's that daughter you neglected, her horn still broken?.
Speaking of which let's look at the rescue team:
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What the hell is this!?
Let's see, we got a guy who can only do damage (and his sweat detonates on contact, destroying whatever it touches.)
A brainwasher who only got into the hero course via nepotism and who can only brainwash people who directly respond to him!. A person trapped underneath rubble either frantic or groaning in pain isn't going to be able to respond or even just give consent.
(On a side note what are the laws regarding mind control quirks, does some sort of waiver have to be signed, can a person sue for being controlled against their consent?)
Oh, but wait there's more.
Midoriya running headlong with experimental tech that has, very likely never seen the light of day. Let alone preform in an actual high stakes situation before.
You're trying to carry someone and oops! Something malfunctioned or was miscalculated, now there's an even bigger mess (hooray!)
Who could forget Mezo "they'll come for your kids" Soji. Who climbed the ladder and pulled it all the way up.
Yeah forget that Heteromorph's were getting hate crimed long before the war, ignore the fact that you yourself were maimed by an angry mob after doing one of the most heroic things a person can do. Dismiss Spinner's comment about being sprayed with Pesticide for walking in public.
Nah screw it, let's all sing Kumbaya while the Creation Rejection Clan runs wild outside the reach of the cities, then ignore that the discrimination still is prevalent in the countryside and it's only a matter of time before somone gets fed up and takes matters into their own hands. (talons, claws, you get the picture)
But your a hero now Soji, you got your's. So fuck the rest of 'em
And don't even get me started on Hawks. Congratulations you ignorant bastard, way to kill time and by that I mean for everyone but the heroes.
"Yeah life is great!, everyone hates us, we're rapidly falling into debt from all that rebuilding 8 years back."
"Speaking of which some of those buildings are staring to fall apart due to being rushed to meet deadlines set within the month they were started."
"Social darwinism is on the rise and people are becoming more complacent that ever before due to heroes applying bandaid solutions on decade long, deeply ingrained problems."
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"All so the average person doesn't have to think about what's festering beneath society's floorboards, so thank you Safety Commission. Here's your star of positivity ⭐️." - Some random anti-hero civilian
So much for greatest heroes, huh.
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UPDATE 2:
A dark thought I just had, is that the main reason Izuku killed Tomura was because Tomura broke the rule of "Forgiving Your Abusers makes you Good".
When Tomura refused to relinquish his hatred, when he stood his ground, that is when Midoriya decided he had to die. If not to "stop" him, then to preserve Midoriya's perception of the world .
Shigaraki + The LOV by their very ideals went against everything Midoriya has had beat into him by Bakugo and Aldera over the years.
Makes me wonder how'd he react to a person refusing to forgive their abuser. If he interacted with Natsuo or Rei, I could see that delving into a complete mess.
Now that I think about it, The Midoriya we know now, he would have never tried to hold onto Eri back when they first met.
Ironically, he became what he named himself after, a Deku. A puppet attached to thorns of liquid gold, glistening and burning hot.
A slave to his own biases and belief system, now trapped in a stage of his minds own making.
First bound by his past, then by legacy and finally, now by his own hand.
木偶.
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souliebird · 11 months
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[[and then I met you || ch. 8]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7
Words: 3.9k
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There is a pigeon perched on the streetlamp that sits on the north corner of the block. It's got some sort of stick, most likely, and has been unsuccessfully trying to make a nest for the past hour. Given that the streetlamp is curved, this is a very bad idea, but the bird doesn't know that. The poor things weren't meant to be in the wild and a single stick is not going to save its egg from falling off if it chooses to lay it there. But it keeps at it, picking up the stick and putting it back down at different angles. 
Matt very much understands the dumb bird's struggles. He has no idea what the hell he is doing, either. He felt, finally, after many a year, he actually had his shit together. And sure, maybe it was held together with duct tape, a lot of ibuprofen, and multiple prayers, but it was stable and balanced. He had a handle on things, for the most part. 
He was doing what he loved, in all aspects of his life - defending people with the law and with his fists. He had Foggy and Karen, and he was working more with the Defenders, and he could be in Frank's presence without a fist fight happening. There was a drop in crime in Hell's Kitchen - he'd stopped the last two crime families who had tried to set up shop here before they even had a foot hold. 
Then everything in his universe changed and Matt is now the human equivalent of a pigeon trying to lay an egg on a streetlamp. 
He never thought he would be a father. It was something he dreamed about, in the deep recesses of his mind, but he never thought it would be a reality. Not with Daredevil. But, oh did God love to yank on his chain and remind Matt he had no clue what His plans were for him. 
Matt wouldn't change it for the world, though. Something fundamental in him changed the moment the words had left your mouth and when he met Minnie for the first time, he knew he was a goner. 
He would happily throw himself into the pits of Hell if it would make his daughter smile. 
He wants so much to be a good father. Everything in him aches to be half as good as his own father was to him, but he doesn't know how, and he is terrified of fucking it up. 
Because if there is one thing Matthew Murdock is good at its fucking things up. Especially when he thinks he means well. 
So, Matt is taking in all the lessons God has taught him over the last few years and going against his instincts and he is going to ask for help. 
Foggy and Karen should be at his door any minute, if they stop pausing to talk on the stairs, and Matt is going to tell them everything. 
He hasn't been this nervous in years and he can't stop pacing. He's pretty sure he's going to wear his path into his floor if he keeps going, but he just adds it to all the other damage the apartment has incurred over the years. It's not like he's getting his security deposit back anyways. 
He wants to open his front door and yell at his friends to hurry up, but he doesn't want to alarm them. They know something is up with him, Matt apparently wears his emotions on his sleeve, but they don't know what. He suspects Karen might have an inkling because Karen has an extra sense when it comes to detecting secrets, but Foggy is clueless and Matt doesn't want to worry him. 
He allows himself to stop pacing once they reach his landing and tells himself to walk calmly once they knock on the door. 
He prides himself in not wrenching the thing off its hinges from his nerves and gives his friends a beaming smile, "I thought you'd never make it up the stairs." 
"Oh good," Foggy chimes, clapping Matt on the shoulder as he walks by, "He's still being weird."
"I'm not being weird," Matt counters quickly, only for Karen to pat his cheek when she passes him.
"You're being weird."
He shuts and locks the door before following them into his main living area. Foggy goes straight for the fridge, browsing his beer options while Karen takes residence on the couch. He doesn't need to be able to see to know she's staring at the two big binders sitting on the coffee table. 
"Buddy," Foggy starts, popping three beers open with a hiss of the bottles, "the past few weeks you have been Grade A weird. You keep getting this dopey look on your face and spacing out. And usually," he continues, walking leisurely to the couch and handing Karen her beer first, before giving Matt his, "I would suspect a woman, or a man, because the heart wants what the heart or dick wants, but I know Matt Murdock falling for a girl weird. This isn't that type of weird. And this isn't Daredevil weird, because you get broody when it's that. This weird? I don't know this weird. So, spill Murdock, why are you being weird."
"And don't tell us it's nothing," Karen adds. Her beer sloshes in the bottle, indicating she's pointing it at him. "Because I agree with Foggy. We don't know this weird."
Matt deflates just slightly. He guesses he's been way less subtle than he thought he was being.
"Fine, I've been weird, BUT," he says with emphasis, "It's for a very good reason and I want it on the record that I was not hiding anything or keeping it secret. I was confirming all the facts before presenting my case. I.." he pauses to choose his words carefully, "didn't want to get ahead of myself." 
"You didn't want to get ahead of yourself?" Foggy confirms and he gives a nod. 
The response is for both Karen and Foggy to take long sips of their respective beers. Matt's nerves are too riled up to drink his, yet so he starts to scratch at the label to get the energy out. 
"So, this is Devil related?" Foggy asks. There's a hint of disappointment and exhaustion in his voice and it makes Matt's heart hurt. He has really put his best friend through it, hasn't he? 
"No. Well, yes, but no. It's complicated." Because the Devil is involved by default because it is Matt and it will be something that needs to be addressed down the road, but for right now, no. Not Devil related. 
"That's not very reassuring," Karen points out. 
"Just tell us, buddy. Whatever it is, we're here for you."
That makes Matt's lips turn down, "It isn't a bad thing, Fog." 
"Well, we wouldn't know that because you've told us nothing," Foggy counters.
His instinct is to keep bantering with Foggy and he knows they can go at it for another hour, but he reminds himself of his resolve and settles back into the couch. 
He's practiced his speech about a dozen times but all of it dies in his throat and the truth comes out on its own, blunt and to the point.
"I am a father."
Foggy has the more intense reaction, confirming Matt's suspension that Karen had an idea at the truth. His best friend inhales sharply, heart starting to beat harder in his chest. His body is sending all sorts of signals, and this is one of the times Matt wishes he could see - just to know what expression Foggy has. 
It feels like hours before Fog finally says something.
"You're going to be a father?"
"No," Matt corrects, "I AM a father. I already am."
Karen leans forward, her spine creaking and her hair swishing, "The little girl. From last week. That's her, isn't it?"
Matt nods, feeling a smile start to pull at his cheeks, "Yeah. That was her."
"Oh my God, Matt!" He hears her weight shift as she pushes herself across the couch and right into Matt, loosely throwing her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it, hugging her back with the arm not holding his beer. "She is adorable!"
"She is, isn't she?" He preens. 
Foggy's brain finally seems to process the information and he sits on the arm of one of the chairs, like he needs the support, "Wait, no, that was a toddler, wasn't it? That child was like five."
"She's three. And a half." Matt says as Karen pulls away from him to go back to her spot.
Foggy's bottle of beer sloshes and Matt imagines he's holding up his hands in a mock surrender. "Sorry, three and a half. Plus, nine months that would…Jesus, Matt, that's before we started the firm. The first time."
"Blasphemy, Foggy. And.. Yeah, the Christmas before we started the firm. When we were still at L and Z," he allows himself a sip of beer before diving into his explanation, "That Christmas party we went to, the one good one we ditched the L and Z one for."
Foggy shakes his head, "I was with you that whole night, Matt." 
"Until you ditched me for the French woman," he gently reminds his best friend. 
Foggy goes quiet and he must be trying to remember. Matt can tell Karen is watching like a hawk, keen eyes and ears trying to unravel the whole story. 
"I forgot about the French woman. She ditched me and I guess I assumed you left and…" Fog trails off.
"Well, I did leave, to be fair," he reminds them. "Just not alone."
"Jesus, Matt," Foggy repeats and he lets it slide this time. He'll say an extra Hail Mary for him. "Did you not wrap it up?"
Both Karen and Matt give a bark of laughter.
"Of course, I did. And she was on the pill, but you know that is not a guarantee." 
"Why come forward now?" Karen asks, redirecting the conversation. 
"She didn't know who I was. She says she tried to find me, and she wasn't lying. Then she saw that interview we did and recognized me," he tells them. 
He hears Foggy rub at his jaw and Matt just knows his brain is going into lawyer mode.
"But why did she tell you," Karen pushes, and he can tell she's looking for an angle that isn't there.
He ducks his chin just slightly and goes back to playing with the beer label, "It's not like that. It's not. She wants what is best for Minnie. She wanted me to be aware and have the option to get to know her. She was fully prepared for me to turn her away. She had already signed the forms waiving her right to ask for child support. The only thing she wanted was to know my family medical history."
"Her name is Minnie?" Karen cooes and that warms Matt's heart. He suddenly very much understands your need to gush over your daughter.
"It is. Winifred Love. She goes by Minnie or Mouse," he knows he's smiling like an idiot, but he can't help it. 
"That is such a sweet name," Karen hums and he can hear her smile.
"It is," he agrees, then he tilts his head towards Foggy, his voice dropping to something almost apologetic. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to be sure. She wasn't lying when she said I was the father, but that could have been because she believed I was. And I am. We got a paternity test and I wanted…I wanted it to be official. Real. Before I told you. And now it is. My name is going to be added to her birth certificate. I filed the paperwork and everything."
He can't nail down how Foggy is reacting and that scares him. He doesn't want his best friend to be upset with him, again. He was really, really trying to do the right thing this time. 
Foggy finally, finally pushes himself off the chair and steps around the coffee table before enveloping Matt in a tight hug. Matt hugs him back, just as tightly.
"I'm so happy for you, buddy," Fog breathes against him. The corners of his eyes start to sting, and Matt tells himself he is Not going to cry.
Foggy holds him for a good thirty seconds before letting go and stepping away, "Okay, before we jump into the whole Daredevil -"
"I'm going to tell her," Matt cuts his friend off. He puts his beer down and leans forward to put his elbows on his knees, "Not right now, but I completely intend to. If I can trust her. I think I can, but we've only just really met again. But I've learned. From both of you. I want to do this right. I want to tell her about my senses, first, and then we can build up to the other stuff. Once I am completely sure I can trust her."
Neither Karen nor Foggy respond to him right away and he has the feeling they are having a complete conversation with just their eyes. He waits. He doesn't want to rush them either. Matt wants to go into this with all of them on the same page. It's important to him. 
They are his family, too. 
"Tell us about them," Karen finally says and Matt doesn't even try to fight the grin that spreads across his face.
He tells them your name, then reaches for the first of the binders - the one that is twice the size of the other.
"She's…she's Good. You'll like her. She, uh, made me this, kind of big guide to our daughter. Everything I need to know and it's…in Braille. She knew I couldn't read print, so uh, all of Minnie's life she's been requesting copies of documents in Braille for when she found me." He pushes the binder towards Karen, and she picks it up in a flash, starting to flip through the pages. 
"This is pretty detailed," she hums, before cooing again, "There's pictures. Look, Fog." 
Foggy walks around the couch to stand behind Karen. Matt can tell that even though they are both Happy for him, they are worried, and he more than understands. He knows once he tells them more, that worry will fade. 
He just needs to drop the final off the bombshells. 
He licks his lips, clears his throat, then throws himself into the open, "Minnie is like me. She has my senses." 
They both go as still as they can, taking identical sharp inhales. 
"Not as…intense as mine, I don't think, but she has them. I.. Confirmed it. She could hear an ice cream truck four city blocks away."
"Matt…" Foggy starts and Matt shakes his head.
"We had a conversation, Fog. Clear across the park. I was whispering. She's…she's like me. She was born with it, but she's adapted, for the most part. Her mom just thinks she's sensitive, and she is, and she…she.." he motions with his hand, trying to convey what he wants to say, "Her mom helps. She gets her these headphones to block out sounds and all these things to help her. She just does it, she's doesn't question the why. All those little stupid things that make my life more annoying - the smell of cleaning supplies and how food tastes like the sewer or that certain fibers feel like sandpaper - Minnie deals with those and her Mom does her best so that she doesn't have to suffer. And that's…I need your help." He taps the second, smaller binder. "She made me a guide, so I want to make her one. I just…I don't know how." 
He deflates a little. Over the past two weeks, he's done his best to type things up, things he thinks will help, but he has no clue if any of it makes sense to anyone but him.
"Oh, Matt," Karen hands the big binder off to Foggy, then leans forward to take Matt's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, "Of course we will help you." 
"We will make the best how to deal with your bat radar guide that has ever existed, bud. You can count on us," Foggy adds, starting to flip through the binder himself.
That evaporates Matt's doubt, and he huffs out a laugh, "I don't think there is another guide, Fog."
"Then we will set the standard for human bat radar guides," Karen counters with mirth. 
"I'll drink to that," his best friend says, once again moving so he can grab his drink. He raises the bottle in a toast, "To the best damn bat radar guide there will ever be, and to Matt, whose man whore ways have blessed us with another him!"
Matt scoops up with beer with a laugh and clinks his bottle against Foggy's, Karen's joining a moment later. 
"To Minnie," Karen adds and that makes Matt beam.
"To Minnie!"
"To Minnie!"
They all take long pulls on their beers then set them down on the table. 
Matt can practically feel Karen grinning at him, "What?" 
"I want stories," she says, reaching over to shake his arm, "You've told us the big picture, I want to know about this little pumpkin. How many times have you gotten to meet her?"
"A few times," he says, unable to hide his own smile. "She calls me Mister Matt. We haven't told her who I am yet. We want her to be comfortable and I…want her to want me to be her father, you know?" He hears both of them nod and he keeps barreling on. "She's…she's perfect. She's so sweet - she loves to use her manners, you know? Please and Thank yous. And she just wants to help, with anything. She's pretty good for a three year old at being a Guide. I'm learning a lot about what she thinks is important."
"What is important?" Foggy asks, and Matt can hear the underlying happiness in his voice and that makes Matt giddy. 
"Colors. How soft something looks. If it has a name and how it's feeling." He grins and adds, "At the park she was telling me how we can't walk in the grass because it's rude and hurts the grass' feelings. And that we can't pick flowers because it takes them away from their families and makes them sad."
Karen cooes, "That's the sweetest thing."
Foggy huffs fondly, "She wanted to pick flowers with you?"
He shrugs and ducks his head a little, "Kinda? She was talking about how to make flower crowns and bracelets."
"Is she going to make you a flower crown?" Karen asks, and Matt can sense her leaning towards him. The teasing in her voice has him guessing she's got her Mischievous look on. 
"Maybe."
"That's so sweet."
"It's so 2014," Foggy adds with his own teasing.
Karen throws one of the throw pillows he's somehow accumulated at Foggy, "She's a baby, leave her alone."
Both he and Foggy laugh and Matt can't help but get his own dig in, "Like you would deny a flower crown from her."
"Damn right, I wouldn't," his best friend bites back. "I'm accepting all flower crowns, hair braiding, nail painting, and tea parties. I am going to be the best uncle she could ever dream of - wait, does she already have an uncle? Do I need to do research? I'll out Uncle anyone."
Matt shakes his head, "No, it's just the two of them. No other family. It seems like a sensitive topic, so I haven't.. Pushed. She hasn't either, but my background is a little more…public?  I haven't told her about Maggie, yet."
The couch groans as Karen leans back into it, sipping again at her beer before humming, "Well, it will be easier to keep your late night activities under wrap. Less people to question things?" 
"That's a way to put it," is the response from his other friend. Matt shakes his head at both their words.
"I told you I want to tell her, once it's safe. I need your help with that, too," Matt pushes himself up and starts to pace behind his couch, "With everything we've been through, all the things we've been working on as a team - and I know most of that is me with all my bullshit and issues." He stops his walking to rub at his jaw, "I know…I know I'm going to be bad at this. I know I'm going to fuck something up. I've done it to both of you countless times. And I can't give up on being the Devil, we've seen how it goes when I try to go either way, so I need to find the balance quick but I can't.." He trails off slightly as the emotions swell in his chest at his self sabotaging this and he has to inhale deeply to keep himself from getting too worked up. "I can't lose them. I can't."
"Oh, Matt," Karen whispers. 
He's so caught up in his own emotions he doesn't hear Foggy get up and actually starts when he's clapped on the shoulder, "Matt, let me say this with my full heart, and I know Karen will one hundred percent agree, and I'm pre-facing this with I love you and you are my brother and best friend, and I think this is exactly what you need me to tell you. If you pull any of the bullshit you did with us with them or anything similar, I will personally drop you into the Hudson. After Karen is through with you."
It catches him off guard, but his best friend is right and it is exactly what he needs to hear. 
"There would not be anything left to dispose of," Karen cheerily adds and Matt doesn't need super human hearing to know she's telling the truth. 
He nods in understanding to both of them, "Thank you." He needs to properly thank them for so many things, but he doesn't know how and all he can do is repeat the words. 
"So," Foggy starts again, squeezing Matt's shoulder before shaking him a few times. "When do I get to meet my newest niece?"
"Once we tell her the truth about who I am to her. I'm going over for dinner tomorrow, to try and be in more everyday things to get her used to it all." He wonders if his excitement about the dinner is showing through. He gets to visit where you and his daughter live and that always says so much about a person. He wants to be let into that bubble. 
"Wait!" Karen gasps, turning more in her seat so she is facing towards the two of them, "If Foggy gets to be Uncle, does that mean I'm an Aunt?"
"Do you want to be?" He asks, because it is obviously a 'yes' in his mind. 
Karen considers this, Foggy narrating, "She's debating on her head, doing the whole tilting it one way and then the next." 
"Oh, hush, Fog! Of course, I want to be!"
This quickly dissolves into playful bickering.
"Aunt Karen has a good ring to it."
"Oh, like Uncle Foggy is much better?"
Matt grins and finds his way back to his seat and his beer. He grabs the bottle and takes a long sip, listening to two of the most important people in his life bask in the glow of their little family getting bigger. 
Maybe, just maybe, he isn't as helpless and lost as he thinks he is. 
Maybe it will all be okay. 
He just needs to have faith. 
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ddollfface · 3 months
Text
𝐀 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐞𝐝
𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙎𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙆𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧
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"How can you not dance?"
Your jaw dropped, there's no doubt you'd catch a fly, and your hand flew to your mouth, quickly recouping your bearings. You were still a princess, after all, you need to act like it.
It's just, you never knew someone couldn't know how to dance, of all things. You've always thought that it was something everyone did! You thought that everyone loved to spend their free time clicking their heels and swaying their dress to the newest symphony, letting their hair move in the wind and getting lost in the rhythm. But apparently not.
"Never thought about it, I guess," He simply shrugged, turning his head to look across the kingdom, attempting to hide the smirk that snuck onto his face. He peered back down at his belt, fiddling with the handle of his sword.
"Whaa?" Your eyes widened and you shot up from your seat, leaning over the table. Your brows pursed and lips pushed into a pout, "How can you not think about dancing! It's like-like the best thing in the whole wide world!" You waved your hands around to add dramatic flair, falling back into your seat - your dress crinkling under your weight.
The small tiara on your head slumps to the side, causing you to just push it out of your vision as you lean against the table, hand on your cheek, "You really don't know what you're missing out on..." You grumble.
He just chuckles, "I suppose so..." Looking out at the royal garden, peering at the rooftops that stretch past the castle walls. The garden had a vast amount of flowers, trees, and fruits, from all over the world. Some exotic, while others were local, but they all were different in their own might. And even then, there wasn't even a fourth of the world's nature in this garden.
You really have no clue. There's so much out there, yet you're far too focus on some simple dancing. You were like any other noble, but simply in a different font. You were a slightly lighter rose in a flowerbed of other roses, only standing out if you'd look hard enough. And he was nothing more than a thorn on your side, only created for the purpose of prickling the hands that dared to reach for you. Though he's just sixteen, he's already seen so much, experienced so much more, that he has never had time for silly dancing, these meaningless conversations you indulge in. Though he supposes, that's what he likes about you--your innocence, how you are so naive to their horrors pass the castle walls.
He keeps his posture straight, attempting to stay professional even though you declared the two of your friends from the day you first met. He can't help but feel on guard, taking his job a little too seriously, but it isn't every day that the Nation's Sweetheart's life is in your hands.
"Never had the time, I reckon," He adds on, glancing back at you, only to be greeted by your befuddlement. It makes him chuckle.
"Hmmmm, I guess that's a good reason..." You purse your lips, looking off to the side, huffing as you thought about the situation. A small smile creeps onto your face, your eyes flicker across your large bedroom.
The curtains drawn, letting in all the natural lighting the sun has to offer. The white tiles framed in glimmering gold, just as the doorway and window seals are. Your bed, which is far too big for just one person, stands right in the middle, outlined by white lace. A room fit for a princess, as your father would say.
From where you sat, on the ivory balcony, there was plenty of room to waltz -- you were sure of it. Though the table would be in the way, you're sure the two of you could make do. Glancing over at your loyal guard, you was far too uptight, you jump up from your seat, pointing right at him.
"Well! There's plenty of room here, let's dance!" You smile, feeling far too giddy. It's been so long since you've danced with a friend, and you can't help but feel excited. Offering your hand out to him, you look at him with awaiting eyes, fluttering your lashes.
And for the first time in what felt like years, he could feel his heart skip a beat. The organ pumping blood a little faster, banging and prodding against his ribs in a simple thud, thud...thud. The way your eyes gleamed had his chest tightened, that simple thud feeling far more like the ringing bells of a chapel. That thud was no longer just a thud, but a memory, a vision of what could be, what would be.
Taking your hand, feeling the ivory cloth of the material, he bites back a small smile, covering it with a stoic expression. He stands to his full height and lets you guide him through the steps. Though clumsy, he regains his bearings quickly.
As you laugh and giggle, jumping and twirling in his arms, he decides then and there that maybe... just maybe, you were onto something. It might be possible that you're not just some off-colored rose in the flower bed, but the rose that was plucked and sealed in resin, hidden from the greedy hands of others, instead encased so they can gawk from a safe distance, only for the gardener to touch.
And maybe, he isn't just a thorn on that rose, but the gardener who'd snipped the rose away. Yeah... he liked that idea.
He just needed to snip the bud.
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glitch-karma · 1 year
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Can I request another part of your "forgetful reader" headcanons you did but with Jouno, Fyodor, and Ranpo? Nikolai too if that's not too many characters, but dont worry about him if it is. Same prompt but with these characters
I was actually just thinking about my forgetful reader hc's the other day, Idk if other writers do this but I always go back and read my older stuff lmao
So here's part two, I had a bit of trouble figuring out what Nikolai would give his partner as a gift, so that isn't specified, I did add Chuuya and Sigma though
Cw: Degradation/name calling in Jouno's, Slightly spicy in Fyodor's, Kinda OOC Fyodor
Jouno
Low-key high-key an asshole
Don't get me wrong I'm in love with him,
But his love language is degradation (hot)
Jouno constantly is making fun of and being rude about how forgetful you are
If it seriously bothers you, he'll try his best to lay off as much as possible
Only because it's you though
He does get very irritated though
He got you a lovely set of earrings that resembled his a bit
They were honestly very nice and semi-expensive
You had always kept them in a tiny jewelry box on your nightstand
But after a rough day of trying to catch terrorists, you'd clumsily taken them off and fallen asleep
When you were getting ready for work the next morning, you realized they'd gone missing
In a panic, you tore apart your apparent in search of them
After a while, you heard a voice that made you wanna puke
"What's up with you huh? Why's my little troublemaker so frantic?"
Oh my lord no
"What are you talking about.?"
"Oh please, your heartbeat is a dead giveaway. Along with the shakiness in your voice. Can't hide from me y'know."
You shakily sighed as you admitted you'd lost the earrings
"Pft- are you kidding?"
He laughed slightly walking towards you
"How pathetic of you, losing a gift from your precious boyfriend?" He sighs in 'frustration'
"They were expensive too, do you even have a concept of money?" He laughs,
At this point, small drops of tears filled your eyes slowly as he kept poking fun at you
"Honestly how air-headed can you get? Tsk, should I be questioning this relationship?"
After a few seconds of silence, Jouno tensed as he heard your quiet whimpers.
He'd gone too far.
For a second, he didn't really know what to do
He sighed, bending down next to you and wrapping his arm around you.
"'m sorry." He mumbled lightly
You sniffled a bit, you looked up to see the concerned frown on his face, along with the softness that was rare for you to see in him
After a moment you sighed, leaning into his shoulder
"I'll get you a million more pairs if it means I don't have to hear you cry again. Truly."
He really was a good man, he just had some issues showing it.
But in the meantime, he'll let you teach him how to open up
I literally love him so much even if he's a dick head
Fyodor
He kinda just doesn't care-
I don't see him as the type to really mind stuff like that in a partner
But I don't really see him doing anything to help per se
He'll give you light reassurance if you're upset, but I don't see him doing too much more though
Surprisingly, he didn't buy you a country
He got you a necklace that was very clearly expensive, it had a key attached to it that was also made of some metal that did not look cheap, along with the small Diamonds and sapphires lacing the key (Real btw you tested it)
It was extravagantly expensive, and he made sure you knew that was less than you deserved (He couldn't find countries on the market)
Wow what a nice gift
Now where the hell did it go?
You, of course, retraced every step
Your apartment? Cleaned vigorously to search and find it
The cafe by your house? You paid every worker to search for it
The Doa office? A wreck
You were ass up on the floor looking under one of the couches when you heard a whistle behind you
When you tuned you saw the man you were scared to see
"Why might you be in such a comprehensive pose my paradox?"
You shakily sighed as you hit your head on the floor
Fyodor then quickly determined why you were on the floor by the necklace missing from your neck
He chuckled a bit as he walked towards you
He leaned down and picked you up, silencing you as he carried you to a basement you were unaware of
Before you could question, he pulled out the necklace, inserted the key into a large door, opening it to reveal a giant glorious room filled with all your favorite things, comfortable chairs, and a giant kitchen
As he set you down you started freaking out
"It's not quite done yet, I wasn't intending for you to lose it so fast. I'll get some help in here as well."
"You- This was all a plan for me?"
You yelled, running around and looking at everything
He chuckled as he grabbed you, leaning down and kissing your neck
"Жизнь моя,(1) you deserve this and more.."
He then threw you on the couch, hitting a button that shut all the doors and windows
"And tonight, I'll prove it to you."
Let's just say, you had trouble walking for awhile
(1) Жизнь моя, pronounced "Zhizn’ moya", means “my life” in Russian and is usually a term of endearment
Sigma
Oh my lord he is so understanding it's crazy
Although Sigma is the furthest thing from forgetful, his brain and schedule will always have room for stuff you need to remember
Got a doctor's appointment you forgot? He remembers and brings you to it
Forgot where you put something important? He knows where it is
Forgot to eat? He'll make you a meal himself
Forgot to meet up with a client? He'll meet them for you
Honestly, he gives you royalty treatment
He loves just giving you gifts in general, so he custom-made you an obsidian necklace that had a poker chip on it, The obsidian in his words was to represent how strong you are, and the poker chip was to remind you of him
It was one of the most thoughtful gifts ever
And you'd lost it
You debated just asking him at first,
But no. Too embarrassing
You'd worn it every day and now POOF
GONE?!
You didn't wanna worry your already busy partner with this
So you tore apart your half of the room before neatly searching through Sigma's half of the room
3 hours later and nothing.
For a second you debated throwing yourself off the sky casino
But then the click of your bedroom door was heard
"Oh my-"
You slowly looked up to see Sigma's confused face as he looked at your side of the room
For a while, he was silent in thought
"Are you.. redecorating-"
You groaned as you fell the rest of the way down on the floor
"I lost your necklace.. I didn't wanna ask you for help."
Sigma chuckles a bit as you look up at him
"That was actually my mistake"
Before you could ask, he walked over to his dresser and opened a small box, pulling it back out
"You'd accidentally left it in the bathroom"
Wow
The one place you didn't check
Definitely cuddles after though
Nikolai
He would not give zero shit's
He just loves you
He might make fun of you a bit, but he honestly just thinks you're adorable when you lose stuff
He asks Fyodor to buy you new things when you lose them rather than look for them-
He has such admiration and genuine interest in you that he gets you gifts tailored exactly to your interests
If you lose a gift from him, he honestly won't be mad
"Awe my Kindred Spirit,"
He grabs his cloak and reaches in, pulling out something even better
"Here does this make it better!?"
"Nikolai!"
He dances around the room with you to celebrate you being happy again
Ranpo
Oh he teases you, shame on you if you think he wouldn't
He gently teases you though, stopping if he gets even a slight hint it upsets you
Ranpo does have amazing patience though, there has never been a moment your forgetfulness has annoyed or bothered him once
He regularly gives you snacks as gifts, but he gave you a silly little necklace with a duck charm (Yes this is a Wan ref)
It was silly and cheap, but it was sweet
When you lost it you were crushed
You looked for it but could not find it
In the morning you went to the agency to try to search for it, but on your way there you actually met with Ranpo at a sweet store
"Hey there detective darlin'!"
He yelled as he ran out of the store
For internally freaked out a bit as he started excitedly telling you about the sale in the store
You chuckled nervously, making him immediately deduce what happened
"Ohhhhh, I see. You lost the Necklace!"
You kinda expected him to figure it out
He then chuckled as he walked over to a small quarter vending machine and pointed at the prizes
"Ya see! We can just keep playing till we get a new one!"
You two then had a small date of finding quarters and playing the Machine till you had a bag full of prizes, and a new duck necklace of course
Chuuya
Although Chuuya is a very understanding person, I can't deny this wouldn't slightly annoy him
He would never make fun of you for it, or make you feel bad though
He will always express that he's not mad at you and does his best to hide his slight frustration
He does understand though, I mean the man didn't remember the first 8 years of his life for years so
He is a little protective of you though. if anyone gave you shit for forgetting something he would a million percent throw hands
He leaves notes all over the house and your hands about important things, he will also text you to remind you about meals throughout the day
"Have you drank water"
"Ah, fuck-"
"Exactly"
Chuuya loves spending money on you
It's his favorite activity
You already have 20 custom-tailored outfits cause of his love for fashion,
But that doesn't mean he can't get you more tailored accessories
One of them was an anklet that had his and your initials in it, along with diamonds and your favorite stone
It was cute, although it was easily hidden by clothes, you wore it very often
You had on the perfect outfit to show it off that day, but when you opened up the cabinet you kept it in, it was gone.
Oh fuck
Panic ensues
The sheets were torn off your bed, and your closet full of clothes from him was searched from top to bottom
The bathroom was also searched along with Chuuya's half of the room
You sighed as you fixed the house, knowing Chuuya hates messes
You then reluctantly called him
"Hey, still at work but what's up doll?"
The softness in his voice made you tear up a bit in guilt
"Chuuya.. I-"
You took a pause to breathe
"I lost the Anklet you gave me."
You heard him gratefully sigh and shuffle in his chair a bit
"That pause made me think you were in trouble"
He joked a bit
"I can buy 20 more of those if I wanted to Sweetheart."
You sniffled a bit
"But that was important!"
He paused a bit
"Are you crying?"
You then paused
"No.."
"Baby."
You could hear him then walk through the halls of the Port Mafia building
"Give me just one sec, "
You heard him then knock on a door and open it
"Hey boss, I need to head home early. Let me know Tomorrow if there's anything else you need me for"
"Alright, I'm on my way home. We'll search together, okay?"
You sniffled a little as you smiled
"You're the best."
"Anything for you Angel."
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syoddeye · 7 months
Text
the warren
price x reader | 895 words
had the overwhelming urge to write creepy!price. this is the result. not closely edited, apologies.
CW: blood (mentioned), hunting (mentioned/implied), theft, stalking
Bare footprints, neat impressions set into the loam ringing the lake. They veered left to the woods, to the direction of the climb leading to meadows.
Where'd you run now?
The signs of her trail are near invisible in the night - disturbed foliage and snapped twigs - but not to him. Crouching at the edge where the prints disappear into the underbrush, he sees dark droplets of blood, wet, painting leaf and root. He wipes one off of a stone, brings it to his mouth, and runs the pad of his finger over his gums and tongue. Salt and metal, the very things she tried to use to keep him out, keep him away.
The very things he had developed a taste for.
John admires her spirit, even with his plan to snuff out that independence. Her frenzied escape only heightened his anticipation for when he'd catch her.
Run, rabbit, run.
~~ Three months earlier ~~
John knew the day he spied her trespassing at the hutch that her hands were clean. Soft and unsullied. Not a speck of dirt under her fingernails. Polite and easy with her apologies, lips parting to show a pink tongue and good teeth.
She saw the cat, followed it over the unmarked property line, and then spotted the colony in its enclosure.
"You like animals?" 
"Yes, who doesn't?"
"Come see the kittens, then."
She trailed after him, around the side of the shophouse and back to the business side. He held his tongue when she observed none of the lots on the road bracketing the bay were fenced.
Fences were unnecessary this far out. Everything, everyone, knew their place. Knew where they were not allowed to tread without invitation. Everyone except her, apparently.
A newcomer to this neck of the woods.
She crouched, peered into the plastic, straw-filled tub on the porch, and watched the week-old creatures half-blindly search for their mother. The heat lamp was a functional substitute while the queen was out filling her belly.
"So, this is your shop?" She brushed herself off when she stood, eyeing the store's interior through the front windows.
"Mhm."
"Are you closed?"
"For lunch, as of five minutes ago."
"Oh."
He sighed. "But I can delay my meal. C'mon."
"Thank you, I promise I won't take long."
~~
She takes ten minutes. John leans against the back counter, steel thermos down to the dregs of the morning's coffee. The basket in the crook of her arm carries a week's worth of canned and dry goods. She presents it with a small smile and digs into a pocket for her cardholder.
He rings her up, poking through the haul. In addition to the sundry of foodstuff, there are basic toiletries, insect repellent, a lighter, and a pack of twelve-hour candles. She adds a pair of cheap red sunglasses from the revolving display. They do not make it into the final total.
"Can I ask what brings an Englishman here?" She asks after handing over a wad of cash, setting her wallet down to take the tag off of the sunglasses.
Like clockwork. Always the same question with every new face.
"Retirement," He cards through the bills and makes change. "And you? Visiting?"
"I'm renting for the summer."
He smirks and closes the cash drawer. Holding out what she's owed over a manicured hand, he tilts his head slightly. "Would that be the old Warren place? Or the Lakeshore Arms?" He drops the money.
A few coins slip through the cracks of her fingers, clattering sharply against the formica, some ricocheting to the floor at her sandaled feet.
"Limited housing supply here, least longer term," John explains, making no move to assist other than lazily pushing a quarter back across the counter.
She scrambles to collect the scattered tender, resurfacing from the other side of the counter with a sheepish look beneath her brow, clearly flustered. "The Warren place."
"Hm. Need a bag?"
"No, thanks," She says, smiling tight when she pulls two canvas bags from the sling over her chest. She drops the items into each bag inelegantly. Cans settle atop the loaf of white bread, and the bug spray slots snugly next to the toothpaste.
Never bagged her own groceries before, I'll bet.
She grabs her wallet. "Are there…any other stores nearby?"
"Next place is two towns over. About an hour and a ten-minute drive, forty-five minutes if you speed," John leans back, arms crossing. I assure you, though, the store's got everything you need right here. And if it doesn't…All you need to do is ask."
It's heavy-handed. He knows. But it's better to plant the seed now and let it take root.
"I'll keep that in mind," She sets the sunglasses atop her head and turns to leave, only to spot the short stack of bagged deer corn near the door. One hand on the door, she takes a closer look. "Aw, I didn't know you could feed the deer like this."
His mouth slowly curls. "It's bait, sweetheart."
The instant drop in her expression sends a wicked thrill down his spine.
When she leaves, he watches her hurry down the road through the glass. He flips the sign on the door again: Out to lunch. 
John fishes her ID card out of his pocket, murmurs her name, and looks back at her retreating form.
You're a long way from home, rabbit.
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Flowers you gave to Gods have withered away? no problemo, reuse them!
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Hello guys! I believe I made a post before in which I talked about my habit of picking up flowers for Lady Aphrodite, Lord Hermes, and Lady Athena whenever I come back home. However, since they do not have dirt in which to expand their roots and absorb water, they wither away very soon. Generally, I would advise you to not leave expired food or dried-up flowers on your deity's altar. But there comes the question
,, Jelly, what do I do with them afterward?"
Well, fear not, because I've got just the solution as your fellow devotee and flower enjoyer!
1. Make homemade Potpourri!
A potpourri is basically a jar full of flowers, fruits, spices, etc. Which you leave in your room for its scent. Once your flowers get all dry, you can make one of these and place them in your room as to fill it with scents that remind you of your deities! and it is also a way more natural alternative to room freshener. I personally follow this recipe:
– Spread your flower heads and petals on a baking sheet. – Dry your flowers in an oven at 93° Celsius (200° Fahrenheit), which may take up to two hours. – Place dried flowers in an airtight container with a lid and add two or three drops of essential oils for your ideal scent. Rose, lemon, lavender, and cinnamon are among the most common fragrances for the home. – Store for six to eight weeks to allow the flowers to absorb the essential oils.
PS: Can also be a good freshener for your altar!
2. Homemade dried flower body scrub!
I actually only found out abut this today. But, apparently, if you mix up dried flower petals with Epsom salt, sea salt, baking soda, and essential oils you can basically create a scrub! I dunno if I would recommend it to people with sensitive skin tho...
3.Scented room spray
Mix together essential oils, alcohol, and dried flowers, and BOOM natural room spray! poof a little on your altar every morning!
4. If they are roses, make rosaries out of them!
Even though rosaries can be found a lot in Catholicism, many other religions use them. Buddhists, Muslims, and so much more! and, they actually used to be made out of actual roses. @jekraftbooks has a very good tutorial on TikTok about this, but basically, you need to:
1.Take your dried roses and throw them in a blender
2.Cook them down for several days at a low temperature. Only simmering, never boil.
3.When it begins to form like a clay ball, it is ready to go! Get a cheese cloth and squeeze all the water you can out of the clay. (Keep it for later)
4.Roll them into balls. Put a needle through them to make the hole, then leave them on cardboard for a few days to dry.
5. Once they dry, they will be rough, but we need them to have a smooth texture. Use the water from step 3, then rub some oil on them to give them some shine and protection from water ✨
6.Your beads are done! congrats! make necklaces, earrings, bracelets, any type of jewelry you wish for with them! You can also dedicate them to a deity as devotional jewelry or use them for prayer. Let your creativity go wild!!
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stirthewaters · 6 months
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Too Sharp to Touch pt.12
Word Count: 2.5k
Summary: Wednesday comforts you in your fear of the rain
Warnings: language, pills/drugs? Fluff
Pairings: Wednesday x Reader
Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist
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The darkening skies had you on edge as you walked along the sidewalk.
The presence of Wednesday at your side was starting to become surprisingly familiar as she strode beside you, her pale, well manicured fingers gripping the straps of her backpack rather tightly as her deadpan expression remained focused straight ahead. It was starting to become quite comforting.
The two of you were in town for different reasons; Wednesday specifically wanted to visit the hunting store to look over the recent customers to add to her evidence board, and while you of course were devoted to the case the two of you were engaged in, you were in town for an alternate purpose; supplements.
Not that you found anything wrong with your wolf, merely because you preferred not to spend full moons in the lupine cages. Your most recent prescription had unfortunately been completed right before the full moon; about two days away from now. All you had to do was show your prescription to the outcast doctor and be on your way.
“This way.” A slight nudge on your arm tugged you from your thoughts as you glanced over to see Wednesday turning the corner, barely slowing down as she pointed out without even sparing you a glance. “You’re nervous.”
You scurried back to her side, unable to resist a soft roll of your eyes as you mumbled, “it’s a perfectly normal phobia.”
“I’d hardly label the fear of rain as rational.” Wednesday remarked, shooting you a look as her boots clomped along the sidewalk, a rhythm you repeated with your fingers against your side. “Perhaps some therapy would do you good.”
“Oh and where did that get you?” You retort hotly as her glare darkens. “I’d rather not look for psychological help in a town that’s known for murders. I’m already breaking the rules enough being out here.”
“It’s merely a medical trip for you. Consider it that way if you prefer a clean conscience.” Wednesday almost shrugged, pausing abruptly and causing you to stumble, nearly bumping into her in the process. “I’ll meet you back here once I’m done.”
“It’s a pharmacy, not a drop-off center…” you grumbled under your breath as you stepped into the building, the warm heat welcoming you as opposed to the cold outside. You turned and watched as Wednesday walked off in the direction of the hunting store.
Approaching the counter you instantly recognized Dr. Kennedy, the same man who’d started to become familiar with your occasional visits.
“Ah, Y/N. Welcome back.” The man smiled over his glasses with a warm expression, placing his clipboard down as he approached the other side of the counter to meet you. “How’s life at Nevermore treating you? I didn’t think any students would make it to town with the storm on the way.”
You felt yourself pale slightly at the mention of the storm before responding, putting on a smile to match his. Although you were never very particular about doctors, Dr Kennedy did a decent job at making you feel welcomed in a town like Jericho. It only made sense, seeing as his business catered specially to outcasts. It was lucky that Nevermore had a medical supplier so close to the school anyways.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, honestly; it’s a little chilly but nothing I can’t handle.” You paused before pulling your crumpled prescription from your jacket pocket, slipping it onto the counter for him to see. “I was looking for a refill on my supplements.”
Dr Kennedy adjusted his glasses down the bridge of his nose slightly as he took the paper into his palm, rereading the words. Taking a pen in his palm he re-signed it, turning into the back room as he spoke.
“You're quite lucky you got here in time, Y/N. Our shipment of lupine suppressants came unusually late and with a lot less too; apparently the pharmacist up in Vermont had to deal with some sort of robbery at his place.”
He returned a few moments later with the usual brown paper bag, sliding it over the counter to you as he leant on his elbows, continuing.
“I hear pharmacies aren’t doing too well nowadays. Or at least around here, they’re not.”
You frowned slightly as you reached for the bag, double checking as usual that it was the correct bottle. Spotting the ever familiar green label you stuffed it into your pocket.
“There must be some sort of shortage wherever they’re growing or manufacturing these… probably nothing bad.” You shrugged, not taking notice of Dr Kennedy’s skeptical expression. “Thanks for the pills, Doctor. I appreciate it.”
The man nodded softly and smiled warmly; “good luck, Y/N. I assume you’ll see me in a month or two.” With that he disappeared back into the back room.
You stepped out of the building, looking up at the darkened skies; a low rumble of thunder met your glance, making your skin crawl. Yes, Wednesday had specifically instructed you to wait here until she returned, but there was no way in hell you’d be caught in the rain; besides, she wasn’t in charge of you, was she?
There was a brief moment of hesitation but when you felt a light sprinkle on your shoulder you flinched and immediately made a beeline for the hunting store.
The doorbells clanging over the door announced your arrival to everyone inside and you felt yourself grimace in disgust at the sight of all the different rifles and guns mounted upon the wall, distaste lingering in your mouth. Fortunately there weren’t that many customers; the occasional fisherman here and there but otherwise it was surprisingly peaceful for a hunting store.
As you walked through the stand of furred hats you spotted Wednesday at the counter, speaking with the cashier; a man wearing a Bulls baseball cap and a torn leather jacket. You watched as the raven spoke, recognizing the slight look of impatience in her eye you’d become familiar with lately. Clearly the man’s attitude wasn’t one she was happy with.
“-listen, Miss, I’d love to help you, I really would, but the data we track from our customers is private. We don’t just give it out to anyone, y’know.”
You watched as Wednesday’s grip tightened slightly on her backpack straps as she spoke through slightly gritted teeth.
“My motives are in the pursuit of the school's safety; you’re willing to risk that in order to protect a store policy?”
“Just because Jericho and Nevermore are on decent terms doesn’t mean we’re responsible for each other.” The man frowned slightly as if in slight distaste as he met Wednesday’s glare. “And all that shit that went down last year with the Hyde is over. I highly doubt the safety of the school is at risk.”
“Then explain where the deputies are right now.”
Wednesday folded her arms, her gaze darkening as the man sighed.
“I don’t know everything that goes on in this town, kid. It’s probably just another bear attack up north.”
“How ironic,” you caught Wednesday mutter under her breath as he continued.
“You’re just a high schooler. Even if Nevermore is in danger like you said, I’m not giving just any goth who walks into my store important information. So unless you’re planning on buying something you can leave.”
You weren’t surprised when Wednesday slid a knife across the counter without a moment’s hesitation; the blade was short and straight with a nicked top that looked quite sharp; the handle was a deep black, with silver hints down the sides, making for a tasteful choice of knife. Of course she had good taste in knives.
“I can make it worth your while.”
The raven held up a small stack of bills she had retrieved from her backpack, raising an eyebrow at the employee. He eyed the money for a moment, his eyes narrowing before folding his arms and scoffing.
“I don’t do bribes, kid. Just buy the knife and get out of here.”
Jaw clenched, Wednesday thumbed a bill from the stack and handed it over, placing the rest in her backpack as she took the knife and slid it into her jacket pocket, not bothering to say goodbye as she headed out.
“You’re dreadful at hiding.” Her voice startled you as she paused in front of you, an eyebrow raised. “You’d think a wolf would have a better sense at subtelty.”
“You’d be surprised.” You gave a soft grin of your own as you folded your arms, glancing at the man who was now watching the two of you with a distasteful expression, eyes narrowed as he examined you closely. “Let’s get out of here.”
The two of you were at the door when you were stopped by a hand on your shoulder and you froze, eyes narrowing as you slowly turned on your heel.
“I recognize you.”
“Don’t touch her.” Wednesday shouldered you aside somewhat roughly, but you didn’t mind, you were too busy glaring at the man as you retorted
“Leave us alone. You said you wanted us gone, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, whatever.” He waved dismissively, removing his hand at the sight of Wednesday’s death stare. “But you’re that Lyall kid, right? The one from Vermont?”
“What’s it to you?” You frowned, suddenly hyper aware of Wednesday’s cold hand on your wrist.
“I’d be willing to give that intel your girl was looking for in exchange for some information. I mean, you’re famous after all, aren't you?”
“She’s not my- my-“ you stuttered dumbly as you felt yourself blush slightly, Wednesday’s eyes on you as you fought for words. “I’m not famous, you’ve got the wrong person.”
The guy frowned slightly, examining you for a moment until eventually muttering something under his breath, “not worth it”. Turning on his heel he started to head back to the counter, but Wednesday stepped forward quickly, gripping his jacket tightly in one hand as the other bore the knife she’d just purchased, pointed at his neck.
“If you want to keep your head attached to your body I’d suggest staying away from us.”
Your eyes widened slightly as the man’s eyes widened in shock and slight fear as he gave what little of a nod he could until the raven stepped back, folding the knife in disgust and putting it away as she turned back to you.
“Let’s go.”
-
By the time you and Wednesday had returned to Nevermore a good rain was already falling, the rumbles of thunder now more pronounced through the school’s walls. If not for the umbrella Wednesday had brought just in case you would’ve been soaked.
“That was a waste of time,” you grumbled as you followed her into the dorm the Addams shared with Enid. “Other than my suppressants we got nothing.”
“Not necessarily.” Wednesday pulled her jacket aside, hanging it over the side of her bed as she faced the recently set up investigation board by the window. Thing scuttled out from her bag, perching himself atop the board; in his fingers he held a pair of keys.
A wild grin burst upon your face as you held out your hand and Thing tossed you the keys, speaking with excitement “how the hell did you get these without being seen?”
“Simple diversion. I would’ve thought you’d learned a bit more after all this time.” Wednesday gave a little roll of her eyes as she examined the board; there wasn’t much on it; a map of the woods, a diagram of a shotgun, and a couple receipts. “Tonight would be more than a sufficient time to break in.”
You started to respond with a grin until a crackle of thunder split through the dorm, sending a chill down your spine, fingers tightly gripping the edges of your jacket. Wednesday clearly noticed, as something akin to a frown flashed across her face.
“I still don’t understand how you can fear such a beautifully gloomy sound. Just because it is meant to instill fear does not mean you have to be afraid.” The Addams paced across the room, until she was facing you directly, her dark stare flitting over your shaking form. God you hated the fact that you were shaking. “What will it take for me to get your pitiful shaking to stop?”
You fought for words, at a loss for what to say. You’d never been asked that before. You didn’t notice the way Wednesday’s gaze softened just ever so softly; the way her furrowed eyebrows lifted slightly and her chocolate-toned eyes met you.
You had no clue what she was thinking.
For Wednesday she was left utterly confused at the muddled mess of disgusting feelings sitting in her stomach like a pile of rot. The Addams had no clue how to handle them, especially since she had such a lack of experience with… emotion. You must have cursed her… at this point she was positive that you were the one making her cup your chin, your skin ever so warm on her cool hand as she lifted your head so that you met her gaze. Her usually confident and sure footed mind was left scrambling to remember all do Enid’s advice on comfort.
“If it will get you to stop quaking like a frightened puppy I will allow you to reside on my bed.” Wednesday paused, before her eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t stain anything or I will kick you out.”
The way your eyes faintly brightened made her heart twist; oh god, you weakened her. She most certainly despised you. Another boom of thunder seemed to end any hesitation you might’ve had as the raven watched you scramble for her bed.
Glancing over at the investigation board she spotted Thing, cutting off his tapping as she gritted her teeth - “not. A. Word.”
A quick look back over at the bed confirmed your still shaking form. You were just sitting there, stiff and awkward on the edge of the mattress. Wednesday couldn’t help rolling her eyes as she strode towards her cello case, kneeling down as she muttered, “one could easily think you were a corpse.”
“I’m getting comfortable.” You defended hotly, clearly a little embarrassed. She decided not to mention it, merely pulling her beloved instrument from its casing; settling herself atop her chair she pulled the cello in front of her carefully, tuning it.
“You’re going to play for me?”
Wednesday halted, her fingers freezing momentarily over the knobs as she slowly looked over at you, her eyebrows furrowing. “Of course not. Your phobia of the rain just happened to interfere with my playing time.” She turned back to the pegbox, giving one of the pegs the slightest of adjustments before picking up her bow. She didn’t need sheet music to play the song she desired.
Her bow pulled across the strings as her fingers maneuvered the fingerboard. The haunting melody of “Cello Sonata in D Minor, Op.40” began to fill the room, a deep sense of satisfaction stirring within her as the piece unfolded.
Halfway through the song she noticed you’d fallen asleep, draped in a slightly uncomfortable position over the foot of her bed. Sighing, she reluctantly put down the instrument, standing to step over to the bed.
You didn’t even rouse when she draped a blanket over you.
She was unconscious of the fact that she played her cello just ever so slightly softer when she returned.
-
Taglist:
@idkjustliving2 @alexkolax @tekanparadiae
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loveswrites · 2 years
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ok so how about cullen poly during the fight scene in the fourth movie orrrr cullen poly with how spending a day with them would be like
Tomorrow Poly Cullens x reader
Summary: Basically what the lovely anon asked for but I didn’t listen what so ever so I might make a part two if you guys want.
Etc: And if you loves want a part two let me know and drop some ideas for what they could do in their two hours aloneee. Also thank you my loves for all of the notes it encourages me to write more things for you guys and not just myself lol <3
Word count: 1694
Time it took: 1 hour and 40 minutes
“How could you be like a thousand years old and still so stupid!” You huffed holding your head in your hand. You and the Cullens had been fighting lately. You don’t know why.. Well maybe you have something to do with it.
“How am I stupid? I really can’t hangout with you today my darling. We need to hunt. Especially Jasper, with you being around a lot more his hunger levels tend to double.” Carlisle said. You could just picture him looking at you in sympathy. 
You had called him because apparently all of your lovers are just too busy to hang out with you. You thought Carlisle would be free seeing as he was off today but I guess that wasn’t the case. He was off to go hunting with the rest of the family. Jasper had to leave earlier than the rest. So Alice, Emmett and Esme went with him. You thought Edward would be free since he didn’t go with him but he was in one of his petty moods ever since you went to hang out with Seth and Jacob with Bella. You told him he had nothing to worry about but he insisted that he did. Him and his stupid stupid mind reading. Which led to a fight with him so he was on the bottom of the roster right now.
Then there was Rosalie which was just a hard no for you. You didn’t want to hang out with her right now. Why you may ask? She threw away your pasta three days ago because she said it stunk. Who is she to throw away your pasta? You don’t walk around here popping her blood bags because you don’t like the way it looks to you. Maybe you should. I thought about it for a while and eventually said it out loud, Which was another fight with her that you could just add to the list.
So that left Carlisle who was perfect. Just perfect. He had picked you up from school just earlier today because you told him that you needed a ride. Since everyone else was busy he came and got you. Which he usually doesn’t do because it draws attention. But by now everyone was used to you being with and around the Cullens. Though they don’t know that you date them all. They only know that you date Jasper and Edward which they already thought was weird as hell. But you never cared. You're in love with two vampires that are the downfall to all of the human race. And you think that the world can know that. Know just enough without blowing the cover of it all.
“My love, I know that you are disappointed and upset with us but sadly there is nothing that I can offer for a solution.” Carlisle said after hearing your long aspirated sigh. 
“It’s like you guys are avoiding me. I don’t feel loved at all. I want some love without an argument following through not even two minutes in.” You said, Stripping yourself of your clothes preparing to take a shower since you had nothing better to do. 
“We are not avoiding you-” Carlisle paused and you could hear voices in the background. Listening closely you could hear that it was Esme.
“Is that-”
“I’m sorry but I have to go, the hospital is calling.” He rushed out and before you could even say a word the line was clear. 
Pulling your phone away from your ear you could do nothing but stare at it in disbelief. He hung up on you. And not only that but you were completely sure that that was Esme's voice in the background. No one else around her sounds like her. And you know damn well the hospital did not call him. He was lying. Esme was lying. They’re all lying. 
You couldn’t feel anything but disbelief. 
You knew they lied to just about everyone but that was to protect their family. Not everyone in the town could know that they drink animal blood and sparkle in the sun like a fucking case of glitter. But you knew those things already. You’ve seen those things already. So there would be no reason to hide anything from you. At all. 
Finding a new sense of adventure sparling through your veins you put your clothes back on now determined to find some answers. 
Running down the stairs with your bookbag you almost bumped into Charlie. “Woah there kiddo, What's the rush?!” He yelled out to you as you ran past him.
“I’ll be back later, don't worry I just need to see something really quick!” You yelled back getting into your car Carlisle got you for your last birthday. You had told him that was a big mistake. Even though He bought you a car you always felt guilty using it because you didn’t want it to look like you were using him. So you’d always catch a ride with one of them or go with bella. But right now you didn’t care about any of that. 
Pulling up to the Cullens residents It looked deserted. But then again when did it not? Parking your car you walked up to the door which was already being opened by Alice. Once you saw her you immediately frowned. She was supposed to be with Jasper just like Esme was. 
“What are you-”
“You need to go home.” Alice said firmly with her head held high light always.
“What? I don’t understand, why are you here?” You grow your eyebrows in confusion.
“Cleaning. Now go.” She said pointing back to your car.
“Do you see me walking away from this house anytime soon Alice?” You said standing your ground. She wasn’t just about to go and rush you away when you had only just gotten here. Seeing her face you knew the answer. 
You pushed her out of the way gently but made it known that you were going to back down and bow like a little puppy. 
As you walked closer to the heart of the house you heard mumbling and hushed whispers. Finally reaching your destination your eyes widened a little with what you saw. And your heart skipped a couple of beats.
Standing in front of you there was a sign on the wall that read. "We're so sorry’ And the loves of your life were each holding a sign that read ‘I love you because…’
“I know we lied to you but we had too. It was the only way for us to be able to put something together to try and show you the love that we have for you. You came sooner than expected.” Jasper said, looking a little ashamed. Him and his southern accent would always make you smile. Sometimes you wondered if it was just him. Or him using his powers on you. But either way you didn’t care it made you happy.
“Once Alice saw you coming we had to throw something together really fast. We were still brainstorming ideas Roslise didn’t like anything we suggested.” Edward said, shooting Rose a pointed look making you let out a small laugh. That was more like a sigh of relief. 
“It wasn’t enough, all their Ideas sucked. You deserve nothing but the best and I think I'm the only one in this room that understands that.” Rose said in her know it all tone that you loved so much.
“When you said over the phone early that you didn’t feel loved anymore that broke a piece of my heart. I- We never want you to feel that way. We want you to feel like the most loved person in this world. Because you are my love. We would die for you.” Carlisle said taking a step closer to you.
“I’d live for you.” Edward said, taking a step closer to you.
“Fight for you.” Jasper and Emmett said at the same time. Also taking a step closer to you.
“Smile for you.” Rose said, taking her step.
“Care for you.” Esme said taking a step as well.
“We couldn’t imagine a life without you and we're going to prove it to you. Starting today.” Esme said.
“Well more like tomorrow.” Rose said Shrugging her shoulders when everyone looked at her with a look as if to tell her to shut up.
“Rose is right, the full day starts tomorrow but doesn’t mean we can’t start tonight. You’ll have at least 2 hours with each of us until it’s time for us all to gather together. Since tomorrow is saturday.” Carlisle said kissing the top of your forehead, making you smile. Realizing you hadn’t said a word in a while you decided to throw something out there.
“Really?” You whispered but you know they heard you. Perks of being a vampire.
“Yes.” They all said collectively. 
This made you so over filled with joy squealing you kissed all of your lovers with a big wide smile on your face. They of course kissed you back like they always do. Biting your bottom lip in anticipation you looked up at all of them in expectation. Making them all break out with a soft smile. In admiration. 
“So what’s first?” You said basically bouncing up and down in excitement.
“I mean we could take you up to the bedroom right now and start the fun immediately.” Emmett smirked looking you up and down with suggestive eyes. 
“Emmett!” You all said collectively.
“What? What did I say wrong? Don’t tell me you all haven't been thinking the same thing.” 
Tomorrow just couldn’t get here fast enough.
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