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fandom-imagines-stories · 3 days ago

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First in Class Part One

Lt. Robert ‘BOB’ Floyd x Reader

Words: 5623

Summary: Your graduation from Top Gun seems like the perfect opportunity to introduce your boyfriend to your father…except they’ve already met.

Notes: I don’t know anything about flying, obviously, but god it was fun to write. So much so, I think want to keep this character arch for other stand alones. Call sign ‘Rebel’ will just always have this backstory and general traits. I just had such a blast and I hope you guys enjoy and look forward to part two!

Bob watched and tried not to hold his breath so long that he passed out, which seemed like a real possibility judging by how lightheaded he was getting. He wasn’t even the one in the plane, but with every impossible maneuver at an impossible speed, his stomach did more and more flips.

“You alright there, Baby on Board?” Hangman patted him hard on the shoulder. “You look a little green.”

“It’s an intense dogfight,” he reasoned.

Phoenix snorted. “It isn’t even real.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t do this when you were in Top Gun.”

“Of course I did,” Bob snapped back, hating the smugness perpetually painting Hangman’s features. Sure, the team of them had gotten close over the last year, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole. He was just one Bob occasionally liked to have around. This was not one of those occasions. But when Phoenix suggested they all get together to get a preview of the new graduates’ skills, he didn’t really feel like explaining why he was already going to be there.

“Besides, their ranking is already decided,” Rooster added, bringing them all another pack of beer. “This is just a few of them getting permission to show off.”

“They don’t know that,” Phoenix pointed out. “They never tell them when they’ve decided. They like to keep them on edge, the bastards.” She grinned, remembering her nerves from her time in Top Gun.

“Which makes it worse, doesn’t it?” Bob leaned forward on the rail of the boat they were watching from. “A bunch of hot heads getting ready to graduate?”

“Remind me not to take you to any parties,” Hangman snickered.

A roar echoed out above them, drawing their attention back to the two aircraft circling each other like vultures on a kill.

Bob ignored the others and their barrage of critiques and kept his eyes on the plane being pursued.

“Come on, baby,” he muttered. “You can get 'em.” The plane getting closer and closer to the blue waves captured every ounce of his focus. “Come on, baby. Shake them off.”

On the carrier, more were watching the dogfight take place.

“Come on, kid,” Pete said. “You can do this.”

Maverick watched his daughter’s plane pull up at the last second, invert above her opponent, and swing back around to lock on the kill shot. He felt a swell overtake his chest, like he was being pushed under the water they floated on. Pride. That’s what it was. Pride.

Bob clenched his fists around the rail, doing his best to hide his enthusiasm from the others.

“That’s my girl.”

When you took off your helmet and the cool ocean air hit your face, you were beaming. The chaos of the carrier set you at ease. People darted back and forth to check the planes for damages and refuel them for the next round of graduates to test their meddle. But you already knew they wouldn’t beat you. They hadn’t announced rankings, but you knew. You could feel it.

Just like you could feel the presence of the man at the end of the flight deck before you saw him.

Pete Mitchell.

Maverick.

Dad.

You were running across the deck before the other pilot even landed, catapulting yourself into his arms.

Pete laughed, spinning you around with his arms locked around you.

“You said you weren’t going to make it,” you said into his leather jacket.

He set you back down, pushing a sweat-stuck strand of your hair back. Pete shrugged, grin growing. “I lied.”

Your smile matched his. “I think I did it.”

That pride in his chest came up in waves again. “I know you did.”

Your grin turned teasing, and you gave him a playful punch to the arm. “Jealous?”

“Hey, second in class is nothing to scoff at.” He pretended the punch hurt, rubbing the spot where you hit.

“But it’s not first,” you smirked.

He raised a brow. “I’ll remember you said that when I’m thinking about buying you a drink tonight.”

With your opponent, “Saint”, coming in, you knew you had to get back before your superiors chewed your ass.

“Speaking of tonight,” you said, starting to back away, “there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Who?”

You said something, but Pete couldn't hear you over the bustle and noise of the flight deck.

“What?”

You said it again, getting further away.

Pete huffed a laugh and asked one more time. “Who am I meeting?”

Finally, he heard your bright laugh over the sound of the planes. “My boyfriend!” You turned and hurried off before he could fully react.

Dumbfounded, Pete Mitchell stared after you, wrapping his mind around the word.

Boyfriend?

By the time you got back to the beach, you were ready for a drink. After long, long weeks of training and dealing with the boys’ club of Saint and his buddies, you’d made it. You’d done what you’ve been working your whole life towards, ever since you were a little kid and you snuck out of your mother’s house to watch the test planes.

Your dad was meeting you at Penny’s, promising that he had a surprise for you. If you were being honest, you thought he was acting weird ever since you mentioned having a boyfriend.

It wasn’t like you’d never dated. You’d had plenty of relationships throughout high school and the Naval Academy, but they hadn’t exactly gone well. You always fell for the hotrod, the arrogant bad boys who promised adventure and excitement. They never delivered on those promises, of course.

And then you met Robert.

He was a few years ahead of you in the academy. You’d been having problems with one of your instructors and, in order to not risk getting kicked out, you decided to find someone to tutor you. If your instructor was determined to have a problem with you because of who your father was, then you were determined to come out top of the course. Robert was the best at weapon systems, so you approached him to tutor you.

You were pretty sure he spent the next few months being terrified of you, but the rest, as they say, is history.

Opening the door to Penny’s, the familiar scent of beer and salt water filled your lungs. The jukebox played a Tom Petty song, accompanied by the quiet clanks of pool balls sinking into pockets.

The cheer that followed, you’d recognize anywhere.

“As I live and breathe, Bradshaw,” you said, a grin slowly spreading across your face as you approached the group of people in naval uniforms around the pool table. Bradley Bradshaw was the closest thing you had to an older brother. Hearing your voice, his head snapped up. You stole his pool stick to set it aside and pull him into a hug. “Hey, Ugly Duck.”

He rolled his eyes at your nickname for him.

“I wondered if that was you up there.” Rooster raised a brow. “Cinderella.” Two can play at the name game.

You punched his arm and hugged him again.

Someone cleared their throat behind you.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Roost?” A tall officer with the kind of smirk you always used to fall for leaned on the corner of the table, eyeing you with a confident green-blue gaze. He held out a hand. “Jake Seresin.”

The name clicked in your head. “Hangman.”

“The one and only.” He shook your hand with a firm grip and a flirty grin. Yup. Definitely the kind of guy you used to go for. “So that was you this morning?”

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, but my call is Rebel,” you said. “And yeah. That was just for fun.”

He chuckled. “Looked like it.” Sauntering toward you, he motioned to the bar. “Can I get you something to drink? Our buddy’s up there now getting a round.”

You knew that head of light brown hair anywhere.

“I think I’ll help him carry.” You made sure to give him a final glance over your shoulder before strutting your way to the bar. “Hey there, sailor.”

Bob jumped, almost dropping the five bottles he was trying to pick up.

You giggled. “Want some help?”

“I-I got it,” he said, brows coming together in focus. When he finally looked up at you, his eyes widened, and he almost dropped them again. “Y/N, hey. I thought you were one of the guys messing with me.” A sheepish smile spread across his face. “You were amazing today.”

He was the only one who could make you blush. You didn’t know anyone could be so sincere, so sweet, until you met him.

“Your friend wanted to buy me a drink,” you said.

Bob looked over at Hangman, who was looking over at you. “Oh?” He glanced down. “Yeah. He’s um-”

“A bit of a prick?” You finished, laughing.

Bob snorted. “You could say that.”

You glanced over, finding that everyone was now watching the two of you. “Can you do me a favor?”

Bob’s face snapped back up. “Anything.”

“Put the bottles down, Bobby,” you smirked.

His brows came together again, this time in confusion. It was adorable. He did as you said, setting the beers back on the bar.

Then, you put your hands on either side of his face, and crashed your lips into his.

And while the jukebox switched to Billy Joel’s “Shameless”, the bar went silent for the naval officers around the pool table. You reveled in the moment, but most of all, you just took him in. It’d been weeks since you’d been able to spend any real time with him, and just feeling him there, feeling his lips softly respond to yours, was everything you needed.

“She’s with…” Hangman trailed off, rendered speechless for the first time.

Rooster just whistled. “I didn’t know someone could turn that red.”

Sure enough, when you pulled away, your boyfriend’s cheeks had gone such a shade, he matched the 3 ball. You flashed him a wink, grabbed three of the bottles, and calmly walked back over to the table.

“Which one of these is yours, Hangman?” You asked, handing one to Rooster. Still unable to speak, he just pointed. You gave the opposite to the only other woman at the table and kept the final bottle for yourself, taking a swig. “Not my usual, but not bad.”

“I-um-”

Rooster patted him on the back. “Don’t hurt yourself.” He strung an arm over your shoulder as your still-pink boyfriend trailed behind you with the other two drinks. “It’s easier to just accept her and move on.”

You elbowed him in the side, earning a breathy ‘Oof.’

“Are we playing or not, Ugly Duck?” You circled the table and gathered pool balls. “You and flyboy over here versus me and Robert.”

Rooster and Hangman exchanged a look, overconfidence quickly overcoming the latter’s expression.

Fanboy leaned over to Phoenix. “Who the hell is Robert?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.

While you broke, Bob could feel everybody staring at him. Of the group, he was seen as the most secretive. It wasn’t because he kept secrets. He was just… quiet. That, and nobody ever asked if he was seeing anyone. Still, did they have to look that surprised?

He watched you sink two stripes on the first break. Across the table, your sparkling eyes met his, and suddenly, nobody else’s stare mattered. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to keep from grinning like an idiot. You made your way around the table to stand next to him, despite there being better shots on the other side.

You purposely bumped his hip with yours, and he felt himself go red all over again as you leaned down to take the shot.

“So,” Rooster started, brows furrowing, “why did you tell me about-” he motioned to the two of you, “this?”

You shrugged. “Robert and I met when you still weren’t speaking to me. After that, I guess it just never came up.” You gave him a faux-innocent doe-eyed look.

You grew up with Bradley. He was basically your brother. But when everything went down between him and your dad… he cut you off almost entirely. It took years to build up your relationship again. You weren’t still mad about it, of course. But every once in a while, you liked to rub it in that you were the better friend.

Bob cleared his throat. “You two, uh, know each other?”

“Since we were kids,” Rooster answered, nudging you out of the way with his pool cue. “Unfortunately.”

You smacked him with the end of yours.

“Oh, that reminds me,” you said to Bob. “He’s coming tonight.”

“Who?”

“My dad.”

All of the color drained from his face. “T-tonight?”

“Don’t look so scared. He isn’t that bad.” Rooster studied the two of you. His eyes went wide, and a slow, menacing smile spread across his face. “Does he not know?”

“Not know what?” Bob squeaked.

The older officer just snorted. “This should be good.”

Sure enough, on the other side of the bar, the group’s former instructor entered, a large gift bag swinging back and forth by his legs. He flipped his aviators up onto his head, eyes scanning the crowd. You stood on your toes and waved so he could see you over Rooster and Hangman’s shoulders. Bob tried to peek around them, but the crowd was too thick around you for him to get a good look. All he saw was a flash of dark hair topped with golden-shaded sunglasses.

Rooster snickered as he leaned down to sink two pool balls and flip you the bird. You stuck your tongue out at him and snuck back through the swell of people to meet your dad halfway.

Pete spotted you for a second, but lost you again. Penny tended the bar and, as attentive as ever, had a feeling something was about to happen. Between Pete’s confusion and the very nervous-looking young man by the pool table, she wondered what you were up to.

“Dad, over here!” You called, squeezing between two annoyed tourists. “Hey!”

Pete finally found you again and tucked the bag behind his bag to give you a one-armed hug. “Hey, kiddo. Don’t tell me the party started without me.”

“I told you I had someone I wanted you to meet.” You started to lead him back toward the table, but from his position now, he could see the group gathered, and he froze.

“Don’t tell me it’s one of them,” he said, trying to wrap his mind around the odds.

“It isn’t Bradly if that’s what you’re worried about.” You snorted at the idea.

Pete winced, waiting for you to tell him that you’d been seeing the cockiest pilot in the whole group.

“No,” you pointed, “him.”

Bob caught your eye and waved, at least until he saw who was with you. If he was pale before, he was ghostly now, eyes widening to the size of headlights.

“Him?” Pete guffawed. “You’re dating Bob?”

Your head tilted as you looked back at him, still leading your dad to join the others. “Wait, you know Robert?”

The two of you broke through the wall of people.

Hangman choked on his beer.

Rooster howled with laughter, both at his fellow pilots’ expressions and Maverick’s efforts not to look anyone in the eye. You stood in the middle of it all.

You glanced between the two sides, arms crossed. “I don’t get it.”

“Well,” Pete cleared his throat, “Y/N, sweetheart, you didn’t exactly tell me you were dating someone who graduated from Top Gun.”

Bob, who looked ready to lose his lunch, couldn’t manage any full words, so Rooster did it for him.

“I take it she didn’t tell you her dad is one of the most decorated pilots in the Navy.”

Bob did manage to shake his head, unable to look at you or his former instructor, choosing the safety of the green felt tabletop instead. He tried to make it all make sense.

He knew that your mom and dad weren’t together and hadn’t been in a long time. He knew it was partially because of your dad’s job and that she didn’t exactly support you joining the Navy, especially to become a pilot. So much so, she wasn’t even here. You were her only daughter, and she didn’t come to your graduation from an elite program, not that you’d mentioned it. He could tell it was bothering you.

In that moment, however, all he could think about was how he didn’t see it sooner. Well, that and the fact that Maverick was staring him down with a puzzled look, like he was trying to fit two mismatched pieces together.

Bob swallowed hard under the pin of those calculating eyes and tried to wash it down with more beer, which just made it worse. He ended up sputtering through his sip and had to turn away so he didn’t spray foam all over your feet.

“I don’t tell many people because it tends to freak them out.” You sent eye daggers at Rooster while you walked around the table to stand beside Bob. You laid a hand on his shoulder while he got control of his coughing. “If I had known you two knew each other, I would have-”

“It’s-” He wheezed, “fine.”

“So,” Maverick inhaled, “I didn’t mean to interrupt the party. I just wanted to give this to Y/N.” He drew the bag out from behind him and held it out to you.

Keeping a hand on Bob’s arm, you grabbed onto the little twine handles and peeked inside.

“You got fancy paper and everything,” you teased, pulling out blue and white tissue paper. Glancing up at the others, you smirked. “On my tenth birthday, he used the newspaper for wrapping after he’d spilled coffee all over it.”

“Sounds about right,” Rooster said.

When you got passed the paper, the bag fell right out of your hands, and your fingers fell away from your boyfriend’s bicep. You started to shake.

“Y/N?” Bob’s head tilted forward to look into your face, which had gone pale. “You okay?”

You held up the dark leather bomber jacket, reading the embroidered name on the pocket.

Y/F/N/ “Rebel” Y/L/N.

“Dad, this is-” your voice caught in your throat, finding yourself shaky on your feet. You leaned against Bob to keep upright. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” Setting the jacket on the green felt, you threw your arms around your father.

Bob made sure the jacket didn’t fall off the corner and watched the happy moment with the shock of the moment fading into the feeling of seeing that smile on your face.

The rest of the group applauded. Hangman rolled his eyes playfully, but Bob could tell he was just being… well, Hangman.

“Alright, enough ‘Father of the Bride’,” Hangman teased. “Can we get back to our game now? I believe Roost and I here were about to kick the lovebirds out of their nest.”

Bob scowled at him. Well, as much as Bob could scowl. To you, he just looked adorable.

“You ready to put some money where that mouth is, Hangman?” You challenged, breaking away from your dad to put your hand on your hip.

“She did learn from the best,” Maverick added. “Fair warning.”

“If you’re as good a pool player as you are a teacher, I think we’ll be just fine.” A grin spread across Hangman’s face.

“Alright, Confirmed Kills,” you said, letting him know you knew exactly who he was and you didn’t care. “Whoever loses buys the next round-” Before he could scoff, you continued, “and treats everyone to a round of duet karaoke to a song of the winner’s choice.”

You were going to enjoy wiping that cocky smirk off his face. Hangman held out his hand.

“You’ve got a deal,” he winked, “Mini Mav.” Hangman lined up another shot.

Pete watched you settle in with the group, fitting in like you’d all known each other forever. Of course, you and Bradly had known each other since you were kids, but the way you were with the rest of them… it was easy to see that you belonged there.

What he still couldn’t quite figure out was the boyfriend situation.

Bob?

Really?

It wasn’t that he didn’t like him, of course. It just came as a bit of a surprise. Pete had met the guys you’d dated in the past, and they certainly weren’t, well, Bob.

As if the kid could read his mind, he glanced over at Pete.

Bob instantly looked away, trying to focus on you as you hit the Q-Ball. Of course, you were bent over, which meant he was looking at your ass, which of course made him panic even more. The last thing he wanted was for your dad to watch him watching you… in that way… oh God, this was going to be really hard.

The voice in his head, which sounded weirdly like Hangman, made a crude joke.

Bob chugged the rest of his beer before his turn.

The group migrated out of the Hard Deck like a little tipsy flock of geese. Rooster and Hangman had just finished their stunningly bad rendition of ‘It’s Raining Men’ after losing to you and Bob at the pool table. They also each bought a round for the whole group, hence the slight sway to your step as you all climbed down the steps leading to the sand.

Hangman, of course, had decided that everyone needed an encore.

“I’m gonna go out,” he sang, “and let myself get-”

He held out an empty bottle to you like it was a microphone. You rolled your eyes, but just couldn't help but join.

“Absolutely soaking wet!”

Everyone erupted in laughter, and you hooked your arm around Bob’s waist, to which Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy all made kissy noises.

“Gross!” Rooster whined over them, flashing you a grin. “Get a room, you two!”

“Oh, I plan to,” you shot back. You could practically feel your boyfriend blush. “I’ll see you at the ceremony, yeah?”

Rooster rustled your hair. "Wouldn't miss it, Cinderella.”

“We will be there, Mini Mav,” Hangman said. He glanced over your shoulder, winking.“Take it easy with that one, Baby on Board.”

Bob scoffed, shaking his head as the group shuffled off.

“Oh, ignore him.” You leaned into him, the leather of your jacket smooth against his skin. You mussed his hair and stood on your toes to kiss his cheek. “He’s just jealous.” You wrapped your arms around his middle, tucking your head under his chin. You breathed him in along with the salt of the ocean and the lingering scent of beer. “I missed you.”

Bob enveloped you in his arms, smiling contently against the top of your head. “I missed you, too, baby.” He tensed suddenly, stepping away. You let out a pouty sigh, finding his gaze focused behind you. “Hi, Captain Mitchell.”

“Lt. Reynolds.” Maverick leveled his stare on your boyfriend, feigning seriousness. After he was sure the young man was good and freaked out, he cracked a smile. “Relax, Bob. It’s supposed to be a celebration.”

Bob, in fact, did not relax.

You hugged your dad again for a long while, lowering your voice. “Thank you, Dad. For everything.”

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N.” Pete fought to keep his voice from cracking. He cleared his throat. “You’re, um, you’re mother wanted me to tell you congrats, too.”

Bob watched your shoulders stiffen and your head tilt.

“Sure she did,” you said. Tugging on your sleeves, you put a smile back on your face. “And this is too big, by the way.”

Pete’s face fell. “Really? I could have sworn I-”

“Dad,” you snickered, “I’m messing with you.” You punched his shoulder, glad to be passed the unpleasant topic you’d been avoiding for the last several days. Raising a brow, you added, “You staying with Penny?”

“Don’t give me that look,” he laughed.

“What look?” You shrugged innocently. Reaching back for Bob’s hand, you laced your fingers together. “I’ve been renting her place down by the water.” You looked back at your boyfriend. “I figured we could head back and make some s'mores.”

It was very clear by your tone that you were not talking about marshmallows and chocolate. Bob’s blood surged, rushing by his ears.

He really missed you.

You glanced back at Pete. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Hey, I’m allowed ‘that look’,” Pete said. “And I’ll be by in the morning for a run.”

You groaned. “Really? Do I have to train the morning of my graduation?”

He leaned over and kissed your cheek. “Just be decent by the time I get there, yeah?” He ignored the paternal urge to lecture you about not being stupid- which, of course, he knew would make him a hypocrite.

“Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Dad.”

“Night, kid.” He started back toward the bar to meet up with his girlfriend- a woman more like your mother than your actual mother since you moved to North Island for the course. Maverick waved back at the two of you. “Goodnight, Bob.” Bob started to say something, but the words just caught in his throat, so he ducked his head instead.

You hooked your arm through his and started along the beach to the quaint property you’d been renting from Penny for the last few months. The moon was high in the sky, shining down on the water in ripples of light. This was your favorite time--when the waves caught reflections of the stars and the moon in every crest and the world was an odd mix of still and alive, peaceful and energetic. There was an electricity to the evening that most people missed, but you always felt it, whether it was in the jukebox at Penny’s or walking along the beach now, head leaning against the shoulder of the man you loved.

“You’re doing that thing,” you said, jutting out your bottom lip in a mock pout.

Bob blinked, like you’d snapped him out of a trance. “What thing?”

“The ‘I’m overwhelmed so I’m going to just stop talking and maybe forget to breathe a little’ thing,” you teased, but your eyes were sincere as you looked up at him, bringing you both to a stop along the sand. “Does it really bother you?” Confusion made his nose crinkle in that really cute way, so you clarified with a snort. “My dad being, well, my dad.”

“Oh. Um. That.” Bob fixed his glasses further up on his nose. He did that when he was nervous, too. “No.” And his voice went up an octave- another tell-tale sign that he was on the verge of a mini Bob Breakdown. “W-why would it bother me?”

You raised a brow.

He exhaled a short sigh. “Okay. Maybe it’s a little weird.”

“Tell you what.” You played with the collar of his shirt. “How about, for tonight, it’s just you and me? No Top Gun. No famous pilot dads or moms who don’t-” You cut off with a sharp breath.

Bob took your hands in his, pulling you forward to kiss your forehead. “I think that sounds great.” Bob wrapped an arm around you, keeping you tucked next to him while you walked across the beach.

And just like that, the constant buzz in your body, the one that had kept you going at Mach 10 for the last few months, settled. You never knew how he did it, but Bob was the only person in the world who could bring you back to earth.

There was something you took pride in knowing when nobody else did- WSO Lt. Robert Floyd was a really good kisser. Whether it was your lips or your neck or another stretch of skin against his lips, every touch was slow and perfect and just enough to make you a little bit crazy. And, at the moment, that was exactly what he was doing.

Bob’s mouth trailed lazily over your collarbone, his arms draped around your waist, hair tussled from the night before, and pressed so close to you it was almost hard to tell whose warm, sweat-dotted skin was whose.

“Morning,” Bob muttered sleepily against you. His lips made their way up to yours, but not before stopping at your jaw, at the little spot behind your ear he knew would make you blush.

The small touch alone was enough to make your body ignite with the memory of everything that you did last night. The two of you had a lot of making up to do and, needless to say, you certainly succeeded.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave him a tired smile. “Good morning.”

“Want some coffee?” Bob asked. His hair, usually neat and slicked back, flopped into his face in messy spikes. You pushed it back, letting your fingers glide through his light brown strands.

“You’re a godsend.”

The corners of his lips teased upward. He kissed you again. “I know.” He pulled back, but couldn’t resist just one more kiss. “I love you.”

You almost took him again right there. “I love you, too, Robert.”

He climbed out of bed despite your little huffs of protest and put on some sweats. You started to get up after him, but he stopped you. “I’ll bring it to you. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Breakfast in bed?” You said. “How fancy.”

“Well, I think that the top of Top Gun deserves a little spoiling.”

“We don’t know if I’m first yet.”

“Then call this wishful thinking.” He pointed at you. “Don’t go anywhere.”

You gave him a mock salute. “Aye aye, lieutenant."

Bob chuckled, shaking his head, and went out to the kitchen to start the pot of coffee and put bread in the toaster.

A knock at the door barely stirred you from the bed.

“I’ll get it!” Bob called back. “You stay in that bed or I’ll make you.”

“Promises, promises!” You giggled back.

Bob was turned back, looking toward the bedroom where he could just see you grinning at him from the bed, when he opened the front door.

“It’s a little early to be selling something-” He started, immediately cutting himself off when he saw that it was definitely not a salesman at the door.

Maverick cleared his throat. “Good morning, lieutenant."

Bob- who wore a t-shirt to play beach football- stood there in the doorway, shirtless, without his glasses, and his entire body turning the color of a bad sunburn.

It was in that instant that you remembered you were supposed to go for a run with your father. Who was now at the door. With Bob. Who definitely looked like he got laid last night.

“Shit shit shit.” You scrambled to gather your running clothes, almost falling over when you put on your leggings. “I’ll be right there!”

“You better!” Pete yelled back at you. “If you aren’t out in five, I’m showing your boyfriend baby pictures.”

Your mind immediately went to all of the worst ones, and you got dressed a little faster.

“I’m gonna, um-” Bob tried to figure out how to talk again. “I’ll go put a shirt on.”

Maverick stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Good idea.”

Bob shuffled toward the bedroom, getting enough courage to turn back and say, “I do want to see those baby pictures, though.”

Maverick cracked a smile and took a seat on the sofa. “They’re pretty hilarious. She’ll hate it.”

Bob slipped into the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind him. “I think I just lost five years of my life.”

You couldn’t help but snicker and lay your hands on his very pink cheeks. “You’re adorable.”

“I’m half naked!” He squeaked, trying to keep his voice down, which was just even cuter. “Do you think he knows? Does he think that we…”

“I’d rather not speculate as to what my dad has realized about my sex life, baby.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips and finished getting dressed. “And yes, he definitely knows.”

Bob groaned and fell face-first back onto the bed. Sitting on the edge beside him, you slipped on your running shoes. Bob rolled over, frowning.

“I’m meeting up with the others to go to the ceremony, so I’ll probably just see you there,” he said.

“That’s fine,” you shrugged. “I’m getting ready with a few of the women in class. We’re helping each other get our hair to stick down, because, believe me, it’s not easy.”

“Don’t I know it?” he teased. “It takes me hours to look this good.”

You reached over and rustled his hair so he yelped. Bob tackled you in revenge, attacking your sides with tickling jabs.

“If you aren’t out in five seconds, I’m coming in there!” Pete yelled. “And believe me, I really don’t want to. One… two… three…”

You opened the door. Behind you, Bob sat ramrod straight on the bed. With an innocent smile, you jogged passed your dad.

“Come on, old man. Let’s see if I can still beat you to the water.”

“I always let you win and you know it.”

The two of you ran out of the small beach house, leaving Bob to catch his breath. He wanted to say he was happy. He admired Maverick more than anyone. That was the problem. He admired Maverick because of a mission Bob had grappled with for months.

How could he tell you he’d left your father to die?

#top gun maverick #call sign rebel #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #call sign bob #lewis pullman #lewis pullman imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun

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snowstormarts · 1 day ago

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hi ,,, what if ,,, you wrote ,,, teaching daemon how to kiss first time ,,,, hello ,,,,,, if thats okay ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,;;;,,,,,,,.,,,///,,,

I'm always down to give Daemon some more love but I do have to confess that I struggled a little writing this oneshot here ^^" But I still hope you guys enjoy it, also feel free to send in Ideas & Requests, the ask box is still open :D

This oneshot isn't beta read and was also written in like a a day & a half xD So sorry for any typos or such

"Kissing 101 for Game Bugs turned Human!"

[Daemon x GN!Reader] [Divider Credit]

It wasn't everyday that you got to date a game bug, let alone one that was very attractive and didn't try to infect the other inhabitants or break the game in any serious, unrecoverable manner. He was simply just having some fun, trying to annoy you, scare you even and then one day he just...fell for you. It was a foreign concept, he didn't know he had that code in him to feel real, actual real love and not just another empty line of Code. Quiet frankly he was a little nervous at the beginning, even if it was hard to see with his limited facial expressions.

So then, when the day came where you confessed your feelings for him, he was ecstatic he had assumed it would end in Friendship maybe even Hate. He was sure he didn't do anything that would warrant anyone to look at him with such kind eyes and yet, here you were. Confessing your love to him, making his heart speed up to the point where he thought it was programmed to spring out of his chest and burst into confetti if anyone ever choose to Love him.

After he had calmed himself he confessed without hesitation, asking almost in whisper if he could share a kiss with you. He will never forget the moment where your lips met, it was strange to you that much was clear from your confused yet delighted hums. It truly was the strangest kiss you ever had and probably will have, it wasn't bad, just strange in a nice, special Daemon way and you wouldn't have had it any other way.

You promised him afterwards that he would be the first one to be realized. He didn't even have to wait long since the first thing that happened the next morning was you walking up to him, smiling as you offered him to be realized. It was a quick process, his excitement was clear to see on his now very expression full face he was looking at himself. He was no longer full of glitched textures, he wasn't a bug anymore, he wasn't some broken sprite he was himself, Daemon.

It was sweet watching him, even when he stopped and turned to you with a wide smile you could see his excitement still burning under his skin. You had expected that at this point he would've run over to you, lifting you up and spinning you round and around but he just stood there. Not even a kiss, after a few more awkward minutes of silence he finally asked you something, something that made you realize that being a Game Bug was very, very different from being a fully programmed object.

"Why doesn't my code work? I gave it in right way, Player_Kiss = true...Am I doing something wrong? Do humans have a different code they use?"

Seems like it's your job to teach him how to human, starting with how to kiss you.

⊱ ─────────── {⋅. ☣🪲 .⋅} ─────────── ⊰

The first lesson you taught him was the importance of breathing and taking breaks from kissing, you rather not risk one of you passing out from lack of it. You don't need yet another embarrassing story on your pile of embarrassments that would be used by your anxiety in the middle of the night or Doug.

The second lesson was an unplanned one, you two were enjoying watching a movie on Telly when it showed two of the characters giving each other a forehead kiss. It was a rather sweet moment which only got even cuter when you turned to Daemon who had been nudging your arm, his head was tilted to the side similar to a confused puppy.

"Why are they kissing each others forehead? Did they miss the lips or is this some form of enhanced kissing? But then why didn't I have a code for it...Is it because they had a fight the last time? Do you get banned from kisses when you have a fight?"

"It's another way to kiss someone, forehead kisses can be platonic or romantic. Many parents kiss their kid on the forehead. Sometimes friends will also kiss your forehead or your cheek, in some country's cheek kisses are a way to greet others.

"Are forehead kisses also a form of greeting someone?"

"Well, I guess if you know the person well and they're comfortable with it you could kiss them on the forehead as a greeting. But normally at least from what I know, forehead kisses are reserved to show care and love for someone."

"You humans are truly confusing..."

"Hey! You're human now, don't forget that!"

"Hmm, true..."

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you continued to watch the movie, in the end all was good even if the main character had sacrificed himself to safe his love and his clone. And just as you were about to ask Daemon his opinion on the movie he turned to face you, his hand lifted up your chin as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

"I need to gather data about this Forehead and Cheek kissing, would you allow me to practice on you, my love?"

"Of course we can, what would you like to start with? I myself prefer to go with a-" you cut yourself short as you saw your partner lean closer at top speed. "Wait! Daemon, that's too fast!!!"

You both groaned in pain, holding your foreheads as you slowly recovered from the sudden headbutt. The lesson was cut short as you both suffered from a killer headache, at least the next day you explained that he needed to lean in slowly and to aim for the top or middle of the forehead and not between your eyebrows.

A few days later you decided that he was ready for third and last lesson, well it's more like kissing practice but still you count it as a lesson instead of a test or such. You had enough talking about it, kissing needs physical practice anyway and you were the perfect test dummy! Especially since you don't think Amir or Betty would be that happy if Daemon started kissing them out of nowhere...

"This is the last lesson, today you will learn how to properly kiss another person, well more specifically me but you get what I mean!" You waved your hand ignoring his teasing smile as you continued to speak.

"Today there's much more touch needed, you will learn all the different ways how to kiss another. From kissing someones hand to a regular kiss, maybe if everything goes right I will even teach you how to french kiss."

"...I don't want to kiss, Scandalabra."

"No, no that's just what its called it has nothing to do with Scandalabra. I would never let you go through that, trust me your lips are only for me."

"Good, I don't wanna be near him." You nodded in agreement.

"Same here but back to the lesson! First we will do a hand kiss, it can be romantic or to show respect to someone or both. I will demonstrate it and then you do the same with me, got that?"

"Got it." He replied, holding his hands out to you. You gently grabbed one and caressed the back of it before placing a kiss in the middle of it.

"Now it's your turn and remember, be gentle. Theres no need to rush." Holding your hand out you watched him as he grabbed your hand a bit firmer then he usually does. It took a minute or two before he had gathered up the nerves to lean down and place a kiss on each one of your knuckles.

When he looked up at you, eyes meeting one another as he smiled with so much joy that you were sure he could've replaced the sun in this very moment to bring light to even the darkest spots in your home.

"Did I do it right?"

"Yes, you did a great job. I just didn't expect you to go for the knuckles, it was quiet sweet though so no complaints from me." His smile grew wider as he intertwined your hands together.

"Now to a kiss on the cheek, you have to watch to not bump noses besides that don't add too much pressure into the kiss. Our cheeks are quiet soft and squishy but they can still hurt, let me show you." Without hesitation you poked and squished his face all the while he was trying to nip at your fingers in retaliation.

After you had your fun, you followed your own instructions ignoring the way your partner was pouting at you. His cheeks turned rosy from the mix of affection and the cheek squishing from before, which only deepened after you placed a kiss on his cheek and then another and another and another.

You only stopped once he complained about having his turn. One thing you always noticed and loved about him were his hands, they always felt tingly, static-y. It reminded you of those old, heavy TV's that when you touched the screen would having this energy around them. His kisses on the other hand were normal, maybe it lingered a bit longer but you didn't think much about it. But you could swear that sometimes you felt something brush gently against the back of your neck and when you turn around there would be nothing, maybe it was just your hair or some dust floating around?

"Was that good?" He asked again, if he had a tail it would be wagging back and forth wildly as you nodded again. His foot tapped against the ground in anticipation. "Can we kiss now? The regular one, not the other one."

For a second you thought of staying on track but the mix of his excitement and the worry of him trying to speed up the progress and causing another headache fiasco made you rethink it. You were getting a little impatient yourself if you were honest, so why not?

"Fine but only because you're that adorable. Now, listen closely" he leaned closer to you, hands resting on each side of you or well hand though it did feel like the couch had dipped from some unknown weight not even a moment ago.

"We both will have to angle our faces, when you need to breath do so through your nose or break the kiss up ok? No holding your breath until you pass out just because you wanted more, we can always kiss again after we caught our breaths."

"Of course." Without much a due you pulled him closer, letting him fall onto you and cage you between the couch and himself. Pulling his head down by the neck and kissing him like he was going to fade away any second now, he let out a pleasant groan and then you felt it again.

Hands all across your body, on your neck, hips, arms and even your tights and those were soon followed by the feeling of kisses. Your neck was the main target but you could feel it also along your back, hands and even your legs, they left behind the static again which soon turned into a comforting heat.

They only disappeared when you two parted, taking in as much air as possible. Foreheads resting against each other, you with your eyes closed and Daemons white, pupil-less eyes staring right at you with a wide grin.

"Did you like it my love? I can give you more if you want, I need all the practice to perfect my kissing techniques after all~"

You never could deny him, especially now that he had stocked the ember into a burning, hungry flame. So you continued to share kisses and sweet nothings until the sun went down and the moonlight illuminated your body's. What was to come next is only to be known between you, Daemon and the moon.

#date everything imagines #date everything #de daemon #date everything x reader #daemon x reader #Koa just sitting there staring at the wall like; 👁_👁

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xylatox · 18 hours ago

Text

serenade || cbg

I have made it to Izzy’s fic hehe, im so excited to read this because the content interests me so much hihi! Anyways unto my thoughts :]

Okay to start this is freaking hilarious. I love Gyu being such a loverboy here but I genuinely feel so bad for him😭Also its so ironic that Kim Yuna is someone the mc doesnt like. I cant even fathom the sheer embarrassment Gyu is probably feeling

Maybe she isn’t a bad person, you can’t know that, but you know she cheats her way through exams every semester, that she’s got a few upper classmates wrapped around her finger enough for them to always get her into the front of the line at the cafeteria, that she has started the ‘pretty contest’ in her first year just so the guys could rate girls at school for their own pleasure, and that much was definitely enough for you to dislike her.

Oh I do not like people like that honestly, it is in fact (not really) a shame that she is that kind of person. Why was Gyu planning to do a whole serenade for her? The world may never know (or will it??)

Beomgyu is so darn cute here I cant even lie

His eyes meet yours and his cheeks immediately turn pink, making him avert his eyes again as he greets you back. You smile, hoping to make it somehow less awkward while telling him his total.

Like ugh the visual is so good ahhh

Your eyes soften a bit when you catch the blush hiding behind his glasses and messy hair, obviously still flustered. “I didn’t…did I wake you up?”

He is the cutest boy ever,truly

I will pass out. I love her manager and I really and truly love that I can feel the awkwardness of Beomgyu in literally every way.

“We’ve spoken twice,” he mumbles, blowing some air on his forehead to get his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t exactly know her, to be honest, but yeah, I do like her.”

Oh my god Beomgyu no D:

Beomgyu writing an entire song for a girl he only spoke to twice in insane Jesus. I also think its super cute how he probably rambles about his band like :(( hes such a cutiepie

“Thank you for liking my song. Possibly more than the person it was meant for.” Somehow, he doesn’t sound sad. In fact, it’s almost like he’s making fun of the situation now.

I am loving this band nerd Gyu agenda

Omg Taehyun hehe, I am loving that the mc already knows him that makes for an even cuter dynamic

You hiss, but instead of yelling at him, you confusedly watch his face turn redder and his eyes follow someone behind you. You carefully turn around, watching Yuna walk past to her usual table. You look at Beomgyu again, your eyes softening when you manage to read his eyes—broken, desperate, lost.

Oh hes so fucking cute I will cry, I wanna protect him and just keep him un my pocket

Izzy yknow what I love about this so far? That their friendship started so naturally after such an accident. I think its really cute in terms of the progression and Im so excited to see when exactly Beomgyu realizes he likes mc and same for her and her feelings towards Beomgyu. Like that shift anf what they do with it excites me.

Getting Minseo to meet up with you was actually easier than you expected. She did have a bunch of excuses at first, but after you told her you would buy her ice coffee and take care of the presentation fully on your own, she agreed.

Is it safe to assume that mc was already planning to do the entire presentation on her own?

Also it sucks to see what Yuna is into? Like I do not get why some of those things apply but ig shes just that type of girl.

“If you want my recommendation, Minho from the football team might have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Jesus, this would line would kill a victorian child (me)

“Maybe you should try your luck with Yeonjun then, I’ve heard he likes virgins.”

Another like that would again kill a victorian child

“Looks like you’ve made a new friend. I didn’t know you were into gossip and all,” he teases you, making you roll your eyes. It’s crazy how quickly he got comfortable around you, turning from a mumbling and blushing mess to an annoying smartass.

I actually think its cute mc is going out of her comfort zone to help gyu ahhh, theyre kinda cute eventhough theyre just friends here

“I’m sure Yuna will like it,” the words come out broken but you’re not sure why. You do think she will like it. It’d be stupid of her not to. He looks amazing.

Oh my god it had started slightly I cannot deal with this

“I… you look amazing,” he compliments you, finally averting his eyes. His head falls low as he buttons his shirt, focusing on anything but how you look right now. He closes his eyes, trying to snap out of his thoughts, but the only thing he sees when he does is you again, standing right there with your innocent eyes and the clothes he picked up.

I will pass out they are genuinely so cute what

Im going to be gushing over them so much because why on earth are they so cute Izzy.

I also love that Beomgyu just genuinely enjoys her company and clearly has something else to do but chooses to spend time with her :( Also the subtle mutual interest despite working towards different goal for Beomgyu is so insane to me I cannot deal with this.

I have never seen 10 things I hate about you but for some reason my brain thought this was to all the boys I loved before (i have started and couldnt finish) and I was so confused as to why a 1999 film came up😭the way I havent seen most shows/ movies its honestly embarrassing of me

Its so cute he also met her parents?? Like I know theyre just friends but mc’s mom is so cute oh my god

You’re not sure what it is that had him running out of your room so quickly, but you know one thing—spending the day with him changed something.

Something you couldn’t quite name yet.

I will always love the way you end off a section. It brings me so much joy that it feels completed before we go on to the next part of the story

“This soup is really good,” Soobin interrupts and you’re not sure if he can’t read the room or just doesn’t care. Either way, Beomgyu glares at him, ignoring his comment completely.

This made me giggle out loud. I love Soobin like this.

I love that MC and Hee are friends from middle school, thats so cute ahh

“I’m not turning into an athlete,” he states, visibly exhausted. You chuckle. “You’d be good at it.” He shakes his head, still not opening his eyes. “Absolutely not. I think I have asthma.”

This feels a bit dramatic but its so cute ahhh

“Can’t you do something just for yourself and not her?” hanging dangerously on the tip of your tongue.

I feel mc’s sentiments. Like I get the aim is the girl in the end but part of me hopes he takes the entire thing just as a means to better himself and kinda just reevaluate his standing with regards to everything pertaining Yuna, but I guess hes blinded by her beauty :(

I also feel so bad for mc because we clearly see her feelings blossoming and she cant do anything about it. And to make matters worse, I think Beomgyu also has the same feeling but hes already to committed to making a move on Yuna, I feel like something big has to happen for the shift to occur.

It’s you, the girl he’s spent so much of his time with lately he can’t see a reality in which he doesn’t talk to you.

Hehe im so glad Gyu realized where his feelings lie eek!!!

No, all he can think about is how wrong it felt playing the song for her, and how much he wishes it was you sitting on the chair in front of him, laughing with them at the stupid jokes Kai made or the way he messed up the chords.

Because with you he doesn’t feel the same pressure as with Yuna.

With you, it just feels easy.

Oh Beomgyu really is just a cutie

I think its so cute that Kai is so excited for the party.

Also i think its so insane how Yuna moves when she actually talks to mc and its clear she doesnt care to even seemibly get to know her better despite the obvious fact that her and Beomgyu are friends; she doesnt care to even leave a good lasting impression which speaks volumes to her character and kind of shows who shallow she is honestly.

Minseo’s entire comment confused me I cant lie. Like she reminds me of some girls from my uni. I genuinely cant tell if she actually cares for the friendship or if shes just like painfully sarcastic and Im just failing to pick up the social cues

“Come on, we should go. Your mom will be worried,” he tries again and you shake your head. “I think she’s perfectly fine here,” Yeonjun interrupts him with a teasing smirk, leaning back in his seat. “Right, princess?” You nod, ignoring the nickname. “I’m sure her pretty little head can think for herself. And either way, there’s nothing to be worried about when she’s with us.”

Oh Yeonjun’s words just made the tension so much worse, but i absolutely love how Beomgyu is so caring and considerate when it comes to her getting home safely which is a complete opposite to Yeonjun’s encouraging behaviour of the bad habit. I am super glad that Beomgyu is persistent with MC going home and ugh it just shows how much he cares </3

Beomgyu grabs your hand before you can speak, pulling you up so you’re standing in front of him. You watch him confusedly, opening your mouth to argue with him and tell him you want to stay. However, he interrupts you before you can even do so, his empty hand cupping your cheek as he leans closer, pressing his lips against yours.

HELLO??? JUST LIKE THAT BEOMGYU??

IZZY. You are foul for making mc see that story of Beomgyu and Yuna after her hangover while she remembers the bloody kiss with Beomgyu oh my god

It hurts avoiding him, but it hurts even more seeing him.

Literally went “oh this line eats,” out loud LOL. Izzy girl i love your work.

As he regrets everything except for you.

Oh my god I cant do this

Beomgyu doesn’t care. Doesn’t care that it was he who insisted on having this practice or that he was a complete mess until now. There’s something more important to do at the moment than to drown himself in sadness. He has a song to write.

I genuinely love this Beomgyu so much ugh

I love that Hee and Jake are mcs friends honestly. Its so cute and ugh I just love a healthy friendship so much

Wait omg, the whole song dedicated to her, Beomgyu just pouring out his feelings oh my god??

“Hi,” he smiles as soon as he stands in front of you. You giggle again, hiding your face in your hands. “Hey.” Beomgyu holds your hands and brings them away so he can look at you, an annoyingly beautiful smile spread across his lips as he pulls you closer and connects your lips with his again.

Oh my god. This was the sweetest end ever. Izzy, again! I love your writing. Im so happy I finally got to read this. The progression of their relationship just makes me so happy. I really love that such a silly incident made them friends and just them enjoying each other’s company and slowly falling for each other is so comforting. Thank you for writing and sharing this!

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐃𝐄 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔

IN WHICH after waking up to a song playing outside of your window as if you were in a corny romance movie, you get to meet Choi Beomgyu, a boy so desperately in love that he drove across town to confess his love, just to find out he did so outside of the wrong house.

pairing– Choi Beomgyu x fem!reader

featuring– txt members, original characters, Heeseung and Jake of enhypen

genre– fluff, angst, suggestive — mature talks, topics, but no explicit smut

contains– band member!Beomgyu, nerd!Beomgyu, nerd!reader, school setting BUT EVERYONE IS OF AGE, reader works at a convenience store, Beomgyu has a crush on someone else at first, party + drinking on said party, reader lives with her parents, both parents mentioned, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, reader is able to play basketball, reader wearing a skirt, 10 things I hate about you mentions

word count– 18.2k

↪ izzy speaks... ahh my baby is finally here! I love writing fluff, it's how I was made to be—a girl that writes happy stories. I really think serenade is a cute one, and I'm so glad I decided to do it with Beomgyu, my love <3 I want to say thank you to Mae again for helping me with editing this, you saved my life <3 I also want to thank Adel—for always listening to my yaps about my stories and helping me sort out my thoughts. And everyone reading this. My stories happen because of y'all. :3

playlist | masterlist

It’s been a while since you’ve had a good night’s sleep. However, you knew that the moment your face hit the pillow and the exhaustion from the long week settled in, tonight was going to be the day. There was no need for you to wake up early tomorrow, and you were going to take advantage of that, ready to sleep throughout the entire morning.

But your plans on catching up onto your messed up sleep schedule fail once again when the guitar reaches your ears, stirring you awake. Then, the soft voice follows right after, making you rub your eyes with the back of your hand, glancing at the time on your phone. 8:12. There goes your dream of sleeping in.

You make it out of the bed, searching for where the sound is coming from. It couldn’t be your house, you’d have to own a guitar for that first. Once you reach your window and look outside to see a boy with a guitar, it all starts making sense.

Well actually, it makes even less sense.

You scan his figure, watching his brown hair fall in front of his eyes as he plays the instrument, a bike lying right beside his feet. You blink confusedly, listening to the soft melody you don’t recognize. And even though you can’t seem to wrap your head around why he is standing outside your house and singing a love song, it does sound amazing. His voice combined with the soft chords of the guitar warm your heart, causing you to open the window fully to see and hear better.

As soon as you do, his eyes lock with yours and he freezes. The song stops, his fingers stilled on the guitar strings as he scans your face, quickly looking around as if he was searching for someone. You both blink confusedly when your eyes meet again, trying to see what the hell is happening. He clears his throat first, awkwardly running his hand through his hair. “Is– Uhm, is Yuna here?” You frown, narrowing your eyes at him. “Who?” You question, watching his cheeks turn red, probably from embarrassment. “Kim Yuna? I uhm, isn’t this her house?”

Suddenly, it all makes sense. Of course this poor boy is confessing his love under your window for a different girl. You don’t know him, obviously, but it still manages to hit. “Are you from Haneul Academy?” You scan him all over again, getting your answer in the form of a slight nod. You nod as well, everything falling in pieces together. Kim Yuna, the one person you despise. Yeah, she definitely doesn’t live in your house.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but no. She doesn’t even live on this street.” If his cheeks were red before, he doesn’t want to know what his face looks like now. It’s so utterly embarrassing. What was he even thinking about? Riding the bike with a guitar on his back on a Saturday morning to sing a love song for someone he wasn’t dating was already stupid enough, but this? This was terrible.

He moves around busily, grabbing his bike so quickly that his guitar almost breaks as it bumps into it. You open your mouth to say something, anything really, but you can’t find the right words. What are you supposed to say? Hey, it’s all good, at least you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of anyone else? You sigh, watching him get on his bike while mumbling soft, messy apologies without looking you in the eyes. He almost manages to fall off it when he fixes his guitar, but quickly gets himself back together, running away as if he’s just robbed a bank.

You watch him go from your bedroom window, your eyes softening just slightly. You feel bad for him, honestly. You’re sure he feels embarrassed, you would too, but a part of you thinks this might actually be better for him.

You know Yuna briefly. You’ve never talked to her outside of school, and even then, it was just when she wanted to borrow your notes before a test, but you still knew enough. A social butterfly with friends everywhere she looks, always around someone, no matter who it is. Her grades aren’t anything impressive, just average, and still, people seem to love her for a reason unknown to you. She’s pretty, you have to give her that, but you always believed in looking for more in a person, which leaves you confused on how it’s possible she is always dating someone.

You step away from the window, lingering for just a second before jumping into your bed again, your hands resting on your stomach as you stare at the ceiling, replaying the song in your head with a soft hum of the melody. You close your eyes shortly after, falling back into the dream realm, where you see the unknown boy again, singing a song only you could hear.

You regret signing up for an afternoon shift as soon as you step inside the store, your manager barely greeting you before running off, mumbling something about not being able to wait to get home and watch the football game. You settle behind the cash register, stretching your arms above your head.

It’s shortly after that the real work starts and you see customers walking in. It feels okay until people start asking you for help while you have a line at the cash register, trying your best to explain to them where they can find the product while scanning items of the person in front of you. They’re usually understanding, letting you do what you need and willing to wait a while, but there are also occasions where you get yelled at for being too slow or being a mess, making you clench your jaw. It’s not a hard job and it pays you good money, that’s why you like it so much, but people like that always make you want to quit.

Thankfully, it slows down before you can lose your mind and never come back. You breathe out in relief, sitting down in your chair and unlocking your phone. There’s ten minutes left before you can leave and you just pray no one else comes in. If you’re lucky, the manager gets here earlier and lets you leave even before your shift fully ends.

But of course, it’s not the manager that walks in. You raise your head and place your phone aside, your eyes widening when you see the same black zip up hoodie you did this morning. His hands are in his pockets, his feet leading him to a ramen alley before he can even notice you.

You watch him from your place, debating if it’s better to leave him alone and hope he doesn’t recognize you or approach him. Eventually, when he walks to the cash register to pay, you settle for the latter. “Hi,” you greet him awkwardly, scanning his cup of ramen. His eyes meet yours and his cheeks immediately turn pink, making him avert his eyes again as he greets you back. You smile, hoping to make it somehow less awkward while telling him his total. He places the exact amount in front of you and grabs his food, hesitating for a second. “I’m sorry, again,” he mumbles, raising his head again.

Your eyes soften a bit when you catch the blush hiding behind his glasses and messy hair, obviously still flustered. “I didn’t…did I wake you up?” He wonders when he remembers you standing in the window in your pajamas with your hair slightly ruffled from sleep. You shrug, putting the money away into the register before turning your head back to him. “Yeah but it’s fine, I wanted to wake up early anyway,” you lie so he doesn’t feel even worse, watching him hum in response.

“Can I, uhm, do you want anything from the store? Like coffee or ice cream? I…feel bad,” he admits, his eyes more sincere than you thought possible. You think about it, trying to see what the correct answer is, but when you figure there isn’t one, you just nod. “Coffee would be nice,” you agree, and before he can walk away to find a cup, you extend your hand towards him, your name slipping past your lips. He smiles, still awkward, as he shakes your hand, repeating your name inside his head to memorize it. “Choi Beomgyu.”

Your manager steps inside the store just as you collect the money for your coffee from Beomgyu. You smile at him, stepping out and making space for him at the register so he can lock it. It’s been around a year since you started working here and for some reason, he still doesn’t want you closing. At first, you found it weird, worried about what you did wrong, but then you learnt he is like that with every one of his part timers, no matter how long he’s known them for. His trust issues are bad, but honestly you can’t blame him. He’s just being careful.

Beomgyu stands on the side awkwardly, debating if this was his cue to leave. Your manager seems to catch onto that because his eyes flicker from him to you before sighing. “Yeah, you’re all good for today. Feel free to leave with your little boyfriend.” There were so many things wrong with the sentence, but you didn’t have a chance to correct him before Beomgyu hands you your drink, offering to walk you home since it’s dark outside.

You walk side by side, sipping on your coffee without a single word. You’re not sure if he minds or not. With his hands in his pockets again and his eyes glued to the ground beneath his feet, it’s hard to tell. “You don’t have to walk me home,” you mumble, making him look up. “It’s okay. I know where you live now anyway,” he jokes, but his laugh doesn’t sound entirely convincing, more like regretting.

“How did you end up there?” You wonder, watching the corner of his mouth twitch slightly. You narrow your eyes, trying your best to read him. “I’ve got the address from one of Yuna’s friends—Jia. I asked her for it last week, I doubt she moved out in the last few days and you started living there instead, though.” He kicks a few rocks on the ground and you nod. “Lived there my whole life,” you let him know and he hums. “I was stupid,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal, like it’s something he expected deep down.

You’re not sure what to say or do. People never have a right or wrong answer, but most of the time, you can still tell what they expect from you or what they want to hear by the tone of their voice, by the way they stand, or any other body language. Beomgyu doesn’t give you any clues, though.

“Do you…like her a lot?” You ask instead, the words feeling sour on your lips. He seems to think for a second, weighing his pros and cons. “We’ve spoken twice,” he mumbles, blowing some air on his forehead to get his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t exactly know her, to be honest, but yeah, I do like her.”

“Why?” The question comes out more judging than you’d want it to but either he doesn’t notice, or simply doesn’t care. “I don’t know,” he shrugs. “She was nice when we spoke. It surprised me. I never expected a girl like her to look my way, let alone ask me about music and when our performances are.”

“A girl like what?” You frown, quickly masking it by taking another sip. “A pretty girl,” he says casually, and when he senses you quiet down, his eyes widen, quickly shaking his hands in the air to correct himself. “Which isn’t supposed to mean that the girls that do talk to me normally are ugly. Not that many girls talk to me. I– uhm– I think everyone is pretty, in their own way. She just is kind of out of my league, you know? And that makes me even stupider for thinking there would be a chance but–”

“Calm down,” you interrupt his panicking, a snicker escaping your lips. He’s blushing again and it’s honestly kind of cute. “If you think you’re stupid, then you probably have a chance with her, she likes that kind.” He rolls his eyes at your comment, shaking his head with a soft chuckle, making your lips curl up into a smile. You’re glad he understands a joke and doesn’t attack you immediately—which is something you’re sure all of the boys she keeps around herself would do.

“Sorry for the rambling. I don’t exactly know how you’re supposed to talk to girls,” he admits, making you chuckle. You let the conversation settle into a comfortable silence again, thinking about everything he’s said until now. The longer you spend with him, the less he makes sense to you. He’s nice, calm, quiet, innocent and pure, so why does he look at someone like Yuna? You can’t wrap your head around it. There’s a specific type of guys she’s dated, from what you observed, always the exact opposite of what Beomgyu is.

“The song is really nice by the way,” you proclaim, finishing your drink. “What song?” He asks confusedly, processing your sentence for a second before he connects the dots, his eyes widening. “It’s cringe,” he corrects you, averting his eyes again in embarrassment. “Do you really think that?” — “Yeah,” he nods, but you don’t believe him. To you, it seems more like he’s building up a wall in case you were going to agree, change your mind and say it’s the worst song you’ve ever heard.

“Well, I think it’s really good,” you assure him. “It’s been playing on repeat in my head.”

“Really?” He blinks hopefully, your smile widening as you nod. “Yeah. You wrote it, right?”

“I did,” he agrees, biting back his smile. “It’s stupid, though, isn’t it? Writing a song for a girl that I know will reject me.”

“You keep saying that you’re stupid and that what you do is stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head slightly. “But I don’t think that’s right.” He seems caught off guard by your words, struggling to find the right answer.

“I’m not stupid,” he says finally, tilting his head slightly with a sigh. “But I make decisions like that, sometimes.”

“You think liking her is one of them?” He doesn’t even rethink his answer before nodding, mumbling something about a hierarchy in popularity and the slim chances of her liking him back. When you ask why he decided to confess then, if he’s so sure he doesn’t have any chances with her, he tells you about how his friends boosted his ego the night before and he ended up believing in himself more. You listen closely, thinking about how it’d feel to be in his position.

After learning about Beomgyu’s crush and the way he sees Yuna, you naturally shift the conversation to something lighter, something that you’ve been wondering about and you know he won’t mind talking about—music.

He tells you about his band, the process behind his song writing and how he got into music at first, making you smile as you listen to his story on your way home. Honestly, you could have been home at least ten minutes ago, but for some reason, you didn’t want to leave. You enjoy talking to him, seeing his viewpoint on certain stuff and listening to his soft voice, making you take a longer route just to be with him longer.

You don’t think he minds, his laugh and stories making you think he likes being around you just as much as you do.

Once you do finally reach your house, Beomgyu stops mid step, smiling awkwardly again as he stands in the exact same place he did this morning. You smile back at him, glancing at the house, the soft light in the living room window letting you know your parents are there. “Thank you for the coffee.” He shakes his head slightly, brushing it off like it’s nothing. “Thank you for liking my song. Possibly more than the person it was meant for.” Somehow, he doesn’t sound sad. In fact, it’s almost like he’s making fun of the situation now.

“Good night, Beomgyu,” you smile gently, his lips forming the same grin. “Good night.”

You feel exhausted by the time lunch comes around on monday, the lack of sleep from the previous night finally getting to you. Still, it feels worth it when you know it helped you do well on today’s tests. Sometimes, you question if it’s really necessary to do all this for some grades, but after another success, your worries wash off and everything makes sense again.

You walk through the full cafeteria, looking for a table to sit at, when your eyes fall to a familiar face, his lips turning into a soft smile when he notices you. You smile back at him but don’t move, still trying to find a table—preferably one that is empty. You’re not sure what Beomgyu’s smile means, if it’s an invitation to sit with him and his friend, but you don’t want to risk the embarrassment if it’s not.

But no matter how closely you look, you find nothing, your feet slowly bringing you to his table anyway. “Mind if I sit here?” You ask carefully and Beomgyu doesn’t hesitate moving to create space for you. You slide beside him, smiling awkwardly as a form of gratitude. “Sorry for interrupting– Taehyun?” You blink when your eyes land on the boy opposite you, recognizing him from one of the math competitions the school held just a few weeks ago. He greets you warmly, even though the confusion in his voice is obvious.

“Oh, wait,” his eyes widen in realization, flickering between you and Beomgyu. “Are you the girl he ambushed?” — “I didn’t ambush anyone!” Beomgyu argues immediately, his cheeks turning red after realizing how loud he must have been just now. “Of course not,” Taehyun scoffs. “You just sang a love song–”

“Alright, shut up,” Beomgyu interrupts him, glancing at you apologetically. You shake your head with a light chuckle, brushing it off. “I’ve already told you it’s fine.”

“He’s lucky it was you, honestly,” Taehyun comments between bites. You raise an eyebrow, blinking confusedly. He simply shrugs, “There are hundreds of students here, if Jia gave him the address of, like Minseo, a video of him would be trending all over the internet by now, and he’ll never have a chance again.” Beomgyu buries his head in the table, practically hiding under it with a groan as his friend continues embarrassing him. You do think he has a point, though. Meeting you was definitely on the lower side of all the embarrassing scenarios that could have happened.

“You both seriously need to shut up before the whole school finds out,” Beomgyu grumbles, looking around as if to check if anyone was spying on you. You shake your head, opening your mouth to tease him further, but before you can, he kicks you under the table. You hiss, but instead of yelling at him, you confusedly watch his face turn redder and his eyes follow someone behind you. You carefully turn around, watching Yuna walk past to her usual table. You look at Beomgyu again, your eyes softening when you manage to read his eyes—broken, desperate, lost.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips when she disappears from his sight, his eyes focusing on you and Taehyun again. You both give him a knowing look that he doesn’t seem to understand. “What? I’m just… I was looking for Soobin!” He comes up with an excuse quickly, making Taehyun scoff. “I completely forgot he doesn’t have lunch for another hour.”

“Right, as if.” Beomgyu closes his mouth again, knowing arguing with him is pointless. Beomgyu knew he was smart, always on top of the class, but Taehyun was on a different level. It was no use trying to outsmart him.

You hesitate, rethinking the situation again before finally placing down your utensils, turning to face Beomgyu. “I’ll help you,” you state, his eyes scanning your face confusedly. “With?” — “With your crush.”

He doesn’t have time to ask you what you mean before you continue, the confidence in your voice scaring him slightly. “I think there is a chance for you. We just have to work on some things.”

“Like?” Taehyun urges, the tone of his voice giving away that he doesn’t believe in what you’ve planned. “Getting him into things she likes,” you say confidently. “If they have more things in common, it’ll be easier for them to talk, ergo he needs to find out what she likes and then apply it to himself. Think of it like a test. If you prepare well enough, you won’t need to worry about failing.”

When you put it that way, Beomgyu doesn’t think it’s completely impossible. And even though you can see Taehyun doesn’t agree, as long as Beomgyu does, you can be useful. “I have a group project with Minseo,” you inform them, frowning slightly at the thought. Group projects were never something you loved, especially if you were paired with people who didn’t care about their grades. On the very first day it was assigned, you asked Minseo when she was free to research information and she straight up asked you to do it on your own, mumbling something about her head hurting every time she thinks for too long.

You hated being paired up with her, but it could be useful now at least. “I can figure out what Yuna likes through her. It won’t be too hard.” The hard part will be convincing her to meet with you. But once you do, you’re certain to get the information out of her. After all, she’s always been known to be an open book.

“Good luck with that,” Taehyun shakes his head, getting up. “Don’t turn him into a completely different person in the process, I’d hate to be his friend if he turns into one of the football jocks she seems to be dating all the time.” Beomgyu doesn’t seem to be paying him any attention, barely mumbling a bye back as his eyes find Yuna again, watching her laugh with her group of friends a few tables away.

“Let’s do it,” he agrees, turning his head to you again. “Let’s try what we can.”

So now, you were sitting in a campus café, waiting for her arrival with Beomgyu a few tables away. You told him you would handle it alone, but he insisted, saying that he needed to know immediately. You didn’t see a point in arguing with him, letting him tag along if that was what he wanted to do. You could see that he was nervous, fidgeting with his fingers on top of the table. Seeing him like this was what made you want to help. Because even though you couldn’t say you would wish Beomgyu someone like Yuna, you do think he deserves to be loved just like everyone else. Who he chooses to be loved by is not for you to decide.

It is Friday now, almost two weeks since you’ve met him for the first time. You’ve learnt that he isn’t as shy as you thought he was at first when he started greeting you in the hallways as if you were friends for years, inviting you to sit with him, Taehyun, and occasionally Soobin every day for lunch. He was nice, and whenever he talked about his music like it was the love of his life, you found yourself smiling, listening to every word.

You sip on your coffee, eyes locked onto the iced latte opposite you. She was five minutes late already. Taking out your phone to text her and ask her if she is on her way, you notice a different message, from no one else but Beomgyu. You look his way, telling him to shut up with your eyes. He’s telling you to sit still and hold on for a while longer, reminding you that girls like Minseo don’t care about other people enough to be on time but will always show up eventually. You can see that he’s worried you might just get up and leave and this whole plan would go to vain, and you hate that he can read you so well because that’s exactly what you wanted to do.

You sigh, putting your phone face down on the table and staring a hole into the café door, waiting for your project partner to show up.

When she finally turns up, your coffee cup is almost empty. You watch her walk in with a smile on her face, one so fake you want to pretend it’s not directed at you. But she sits down on the chair opposite you and you can’t pretend she’s not there with you anymore. “Hey,” you offer a soft greeting that she brushes off, taking a sip of her latte. “This is good, is that vanilla?” She wonders, watching the glass with amusement. “I– yeah,” you blink. “You asked for vanilla when we talked yesterday.”

“Right,” she nods, narrowing her eyes at you as if she was trying to remember who you were. It was annoying. “Why am I here actually?” Minseo tilts her head slightly, a small gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s weird talking to her like this, even more so knowing that the first real interaction you have with her is being watched by someone who believes in you more than he probably should.

“I wrote the paper and I know your head hurts when you study for too long, but I just need you to read it to have a general idea of what it’s about and sign yourself under it so we can say you contributed to the work,” you explain just like you prepared earlier with the guys at lunch. She hums, not saying anything in protest as you hand her the two pieces of paper. You can see the disgust in her face but as long as she doesn’t say anything, you won’t either. That’s not really why you’re there anyway.

You start the conversation slowly, asking her about a boy from the basketball team you heard she’s been seeing. At first, you were worried it wouldn’t work, that she would think you were weird for asking her about things like this as that’s what you would do if a stranger asked you about your personal life, but she casually starts answering your questions, the excitement in her voice when she has an excuse to stop reading the paper obvious.

You don’t have to do much as she naturally shifts the conversation from herself to the other girls, gossip falling off her lips like it’s her second nature. You must say, you never heard so many disturbing things about people you didn’t know before.

As soon as she mentions Yuna and her obsession with athletes, your ears perk up. “Oh really? I didn’t know her type was that simple,” you comment casually and Minseo takes a sip of her coffee, the paper long out of her hands, laying untouched right beside her cup. “Oh no, athletes aren’t the only thing she is into. You know Jinho from the swimming team? He definitely wouldn’t make the cut,” she shakes her head like it’s the most obvious fact. You frown slightly, trying to remember him. When you realize you can’t put a face to the name, you figure that’s why he doesn’t fall under her type. She doesn’t like people whose names others don’t know.

“It’s someone like Yeonjun that she’d kill for. She’s been trying to get him ever since our first year. Weirdly enough, he isn’t interested.” Yeonjun is a name you do recognize. A star of every party that mattered, someone who was always surrounded by other people, just like Yuna. If it was by choice or not wasn’t your business. He was handsome, you could see why girls would like him, but he wasn’t your type. You’d much rather have someone who could solve a math problem than a guy who could drink a bottle of beer upside down.

“I see,” you hum. “So what would you say her type is?” It’s a simple question, that’s what it’s meant to be, but to your surprise, it’s also a question Minseo could talk about for hours. Hadn’t you known better, you would think she was still talking about herself. “She loves fashion, you know? Like there’s something so hot about a guy that can dress,” she says, looking around the café quickly. “See? That guy right there. It’s so hot,” she points at a guy in his twenties ordering a drink, waving with an innocent smile when he notices her. He looks flustered.

Even though you don’t want to admit it, you must say she is right. The rolled up sleeves of his button up that reveal his forearms are hot. You shake your head to snap out of your thoughts quickly and take a proper look at what he’s wearing. It’s the opposite of what Beomgyu has on himself right now. Yet, it’s not something you think he wouldn’t be able to pull.

“Oh! And him!” She whisper-yells, pointing at another guy who just walked in. When you see the black shirt and gray sweatpants he has on, you roll your eyes slightly. In his case, it’s definitely not the clothes she is attracted to but the muscles beneath them. “What else is there?”

Minseo thinks for a second, finally averting her eyes from the unknown boy and looking back at you. “Someone popular,” she states the obvious. “Who has connections, and like a bunch of followers.” You fight the urge to scoff at the simplicity of the girl. You weren’t exactly expecting her to say someone nice and kind, but a part of you still had hope until now. “He also needs to go to parties with her, you know her,” she laughs. It’s the same laugh she always gives her friends at lunch and it makes you think if she’s always this fast at befriending people. If that’s what you can call whatever this is.

“I was so surprised when she told me this, but apparently she also likes when guys get soft or whatever. She talked about emotions so much it made my head spin. She said a soft but popular guy like in the movies would be the best combination. I don’t necessarily agree though, I like them without all the emotions and shit.” — “What about you?” She tilts her head and you quickly blink in shock to make sure you’ve heard her right. “Is there anyone I could help you with?” Her smile widens at the idea, leaning closer to you. “If you want my recommendation, Minho from the football team might have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Your cheeks flush and you quickly shake your head to stop her. “I think– I think I’m good. I don’t really, uhm,” you avert your eyes, glancing over to Beomgyu for a brief second to see if he was still watching. Thankfully, your eyes don’t meet as he is busy texting someone on his phone. “Oh my, are you a virgin?” That question caught you off guard even more, your eyes widening. When your eyes shoot back to hers, it's enough of an answer for her. “Don’t worry, we’ve all been there,” she laughs, but to your surprise it doesn’t sound like she’s laughing at you. “Maybe you should try your luck with Yeonjun then, I’ve heard he likes virgins.”

“I see,” you nod, your voice shaking slightly. It’s embarrassing. This whole conversation, sitting there in front of her and talking about things like these. “But what did you say your type was again? Maybe I know someone better.”

You open your mouth to answer and then close it again. You’re not sure what she wants you to say, if she expects an honest answer, if she wants you to say athletes just so you could fit into her group, or if she simply wants to make fun of you and there’s no right or wrong answer.

After giving it a second thought, you open your mouth again. “I like kind people. Ones you don’t have to worry will judge you or make fun of you. I like when they are able to hold a meaningful conversation and have their own opinions on stuff,” you says, searching her face for any sign of not liking where you were going with this. When you don’t find anything, certain that she’s still listening, you continue. “I also like when guys aren’t scared to show their girl off, I think that’s very cute—when a guy proudly talks about his girlfriend.”

“I see, you’re one of those,” she giggles, leaning back in her chair. “How about looks?” You think about it for a second but then just shake your head. “Someone taller than me, I guess? I don’t know.” She shakes her head as well, but her smile never falls off. “I like you,” she proclaims, your surprise turning into a soft giggle when she messes up your name. Still, it’s something. “It’s bad you never attend any parties, you’re not only smart but also nice to talk to. Do you drink?”

“Sometimes, I guess,” you nod and her smile widens. “You should come to my party then. I haven’t told anyone about it yet but I want to do one next month, make sure you’re free. The girls and I can help you find someone, I’m sure you’ll be able to pick one of the guys there.” You don’t refuse her, you don’t say anything really. You’re not sure what you should say. So you just nod slightly, figuring that she’ll probably forget about this in a few days anyway.

She stretches her arms above her head, her yawn informing you that this was the end of her attention span. “This was really great,” your name is still a mess, but it’s closer this time, making you think that the next time you see her she might actually get it right. “But I should go now. The paper, uh, looks awesome.” You smile, nodding even though you know she hasn’t read a single word of it. It’s fine, you didn’t expect her to in the first place.

Minseo get’s up from her chair, giving you one last smile—one way less fake than the one you received when she came in—before walking off. You sigh, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. When you open them again, the chair opposite you is occupied again. “God, since when do you walk like a ghost?” You ask, exhaling sharply. Beomgyu chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend. I didn’t know you were into gossip and all,” he teases you, making you roll your eyes. It’s crazy how quickly he got comfortable around you, turning from a mumbling and blushing mess to an annoying smartass.

“Don’t laugh too much, the work starts now. We need to buy you new clothes.”

Your eyes scan the rack of clothing in front of you, searching for what might suit Yuna’s style. If it was up to you, what Beomgyu was wearing now would be ideal. You shake your head at yourself, picking up a dark blue jacket you’re sure you’ve seen Yeonjun wear in a different color.

You turn around to show the piece to Beomgyu, seeing him holding up a pair of jeans himself. You narrow your eyes. “It’s the same one you’re wearing right now,” you point out and he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, shrugging. “I like my jeans, why not buy another pair if I’m comfortable in them?” He’s right, you can’t argue with that. You sigh, brushing it off and handing him the jacket for him to try on. He takes it without another word, looking around and browsing for more. You do the same, leaving him to do his thing while you go look through the other side of the store.

You walk around, trying to figure out what could look good. You’re not sure honestly, and the more time you spend at the store, the more you question if you’re fit to be the person helping him. You had your own style that you liked and didn’t care if others found it stylish or not, barely keeping up with the latest trends unlike Yuna. At the end of the day, you and her were the complete opposites, so how were you supposed to get him to fit her style?

When you meet Beomgyu again near the changing rooms, his hands are full. You smile, glad that he found it so easy picking out something that would fit both his and Yuna’s preferences. It’s only when you sit down and watch him come out in the first outfit that you realize he didn’t even try picking up clothes that weren’t in his usual style.

“This is nice, right?” He asks, doing a small spin so you can see. Baggy, ripped jeans and a comfortable hoodie. You scan his outfit, raising your eyebrow. It did look nice. It was similar to what he wore normally — except for the backwards cap on his head — so you couldn’t say you wouldn’t like it, the opposite actually.

For some reason, he looked different standing in front of you now. It wasn’t the same boy you’ve met outside of your house, it wasn’t the boy that walked you home from work the same night and talked about a girl he likes, it wasn’t even the same boy that you got comfortable around so quickly. The Beomgyu standing in front of you now felt like a boy just for you.

With his soft smile and glasses framing his face, he was just a boy you wanted to get serenaded by.

“It’s totally a boyfriend vibe, you know?” He fixes his hat, looking into the mirror to check himself. “What do you think?” You blink quickly, nodding. “Yeah, it looks great,” you agree, swallowing a lump in your throat as the memory of Beomgyu singing outside of your window comes back to you.

“Right? Taehyun and Soobin need to stop arguing with me about having a better style. I’m the best,” he laughs, disappearing into the changing room before you can say anything else. When he comes out again, he has a new pair of jeans on—black ones this time—a simple white shirt and the jacket you picked up before.

Your eyes widen just slightly, biting the inside of your cheek as he steps closer to you, watching himself in the mirror beside you. “I didn’t think this would suit me too well,” he mumbles, hiding his hands in the jacket pockets, smiling. “But it actually looks amazing. I think I’ll get this.”

“Yeah, you should,” you nod, mentally slapping yourself to snap out of it. You need to focus, not think about how well he looks. “I’m sure Yuna will like it,” the words come out broken but you’re not sure why. You do think she will like it. It’d be stupid of her not to. He looks amazing.

“Okay, I have one more outfit there,” he says, fixing his hair quickly. “Come on.”

“Where?” You blink confusedly, slowly standing up. “I chose an outfit for you as well.” Your eyes widen as you follow him inside one of the cabins and he hands you the clothes. You don’t get the chance to say anything before he closes the door behind you, sliding back into his cabin.

You stand there for a second, not moving an inch while listening to his soft hums of the song playing on the store speakers. As soon as your mind processes what has happened, you take a look at the clothes you’re holding, making a mental note that he likes the color pink.

You step out while fixing your hair, Beomgyu already waiting for you with his back turned to you. You clear your throat and he immediately turns to face you, his eyes widening for a brief second. You feel a bit awkward as he watches you, his eyes scanning your whole body as if he saw you for the first time.

He has a neat, light blue button-up, half of the buttons undone, revealing a white tank top beneath it. His pants are black, formal, something you didn’t think you’d see on him. The more you watch him, the more you question if there’s something he doesn’t look good in.

While looking for his clothes, he stumbled into the women section, his eyes immediately landing on a pink sweater. He isn’t sure why, but the first thought that popped up in his mind was about how nice it would look on you. He knew he was shopping for his clothes but he couldn’t help it, ending up browsing the women’s section for something to go with the sweater. And he did find something—a white skirt. He thought it would look cute on you, what he didn’t know was that it would look this cute.

The skirt was shorter than he expected, revealing more skin than he was ready for. Just seconds ago, he was thinking about how good he looked in his clothes and now, he was a mess. He shakes his head, avoiding looking at you again as he swallows a lump in his throat, asking you what you think of his outfit.

“You look handsome.”

The words come out before you can stop it, making you avert your eyes as well, your cheeks lightly flushed.

You both stand there, avoiding meeting each other’s eyes from embarrassment as if you’ve just walked in on him naked. It’s irrational if you think about it from a different perspective, but you can’t look him in the eyes, no matter how much you try to.

You’d rather not look at him again if it’d mean getting your heart to calm down and not making you feel like you’re going to get a heart attack any second.

You’d rather not meet his eyes again than admit a part of you wishes he was dressing up like this for you instead of Yuna.

Beomgyu walks out of the store with two plastic bags—one for himself and the other for you. You did like what he picked out, and as soon as you said it out loud, his eyes met yours instantly, putting his embarrassment aside and saying he’ll buy it for you. You tried arguing at first but gave up halfway, letting him do whatever he wanted.

“Is there another thing we could check off the list today?” He wonders, walking through the mall with you by his side.

“Aren’t you tired?”

He hesitates for a second, shrugging. “No, not really,” he mumbles. “I don’t have anything else to do tonight.” It’s a small lie if he’s honest. He could find what to do. He has his guitar, his band that is waiting for him to compose another song they could play at the spring festival the school holds, and there’s the game he’s been promising Soobin to play for the past few weeks. Still, he doesn’t want to go home just yet, doesn’t want to close himself in his room for hours with music when he could hang out with you. It’s the first for him.

Beomgyu was always someone who loved music. No matter what it was—the sound of a guitar, his old music teacher teaching him her favorite songs, the sound of his pencil drumming against the desk when he was bored in class, or even the birds singing in the morning when he woke up.

He wasn’t sure why spending time with you suddenly sounded better than music but he didn’t want to question it.

All he wants to do is enjoy the rest of his day, preferably by your side.

“Sure,” you nod, looking at your phone to see the time. “We can watch a movie together,” you offer, already sending a quick text to your mom to let her know you wouldn’t come home alone. “Yuna likes romance movies.”

He hums, listening to your every word as you talk about all the possible movies that come to mind at the moment, giving a quick commentary to each of them so he could picture them.

“Do you have a favorite?” You think it through, remembering exactly how you felt watching each movie you’ve just mentioned. “10 things I hate about you,” you answer finally, confident in your response. There were so many good ones you could watch, but this one holds a special place in your heart. “Let’s watch that one then.”

The light is on in the living room when you reach your house, Beomgyu awkwardly hanging behind you as you walk inside, a loud “I’m home,” leaving your lips. You peek into the living room, waving at Beomgyu to come closer when you see both of your parents cuddled up on the couch, watching your mom’s favorite reality show.

“Good afternoon,” Beomgyu greets them nervously, pushing his glasses up when they slide down his nose. “I’m Choi Beomgyu, I go to Haneul Academy with your daughter.” Your parents glance up upon hearing the unfamiliar voice, your mom’s smile widening immediately. “Oh my,” she quickly stands up, motioning for your dad to follow as she makes her way over to you.

You shake your head slightly as you watch your mom extend her hand towards him, introducing herself with a smile, your dad mirroring her actions. “You’re handsome,” she comments, nodding as if she was approving. You shoot her a look but she ignores it, offering Beomgyu something to eat.

“I, uhm, thank you,” he smiles, chuckling nervously. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“We’re going to watch a movie,” you inform them, getting their attention back to yourself. You’d rather not scare him away immediately. “Have fun,” your mom beams, glancing at your dad briefly. “I’ll get you something to eat as soon as our show ends.”

“Thank you.”

Beomgyu follows you into your room while you mumble apologies but he just shakes his head, brushing it off over and over again. “Your parents seem really nice.” You nod, closing the door behind you. “They are, but I get it if my mom seems like a lot right now.”

“She’s nice,” he repeats, assuring you it’s okay as he carefully sits on your bed. “Besides, even if she was an evil witch, it wouldn’t be your responsibility to apologize for her behaviour.” You bite back your smile, averting your eyes from him again and grabbing your laptop from the table.

“You’re really nice as well, you know,” you mumble, sitting down and placing the laptop on top of your thighs.

You’re really nice. The words echo in his head, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again as the movie starts playing, the sentence stuck in his throat. The intro music plays and he has to force himself to take his eyes off you and focus on the movie instead.

You soon learn Beomgyu can’t shut his mouth for longer than a few minutes, not even while watching a movie.

“This makes no sense. He can’t actually be that stupid, can he?” — “As you can see, some guys don’t have more than one brain cell,” you laugh, watching Joey pay Patrick as if it was his idea all along.

“Your eyes have a little green in them.” You smile, a soft giggle leaving your lips when she throws up right after that. Beomgyu beside you chuckles as well, glancing at you. “I’m starting to get it,” he says and your eyes meet. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean,” he clears his throat as if he was embarrassed. “They are cute together. It’s nice seeing them,” he mumbles, averting his eyes. “And it’s easy to imagine myself in there.”

“Yeah? Who would you be if you were there?” You question, your eyes flickering between the screen and the boy beside you. “Cameron,” he answers without hesitation and your smile falters for just a second. “I assume I know who Bianca would be.” He shrugs, not meeting your eyes again.

It doesn’t surprise you. You can see him in the position, pining over a girl while she flirts with the popular guy, playing around with him until she realizes what she’s missing out on. It’s funny, how just the thought of Beomgyu and Yuna makes you feel sick in the stomach even though you were the one offering your help with his crush.

The movie playing on your laptop along with a few soft laughs at times is the only thing that fills the room after that. You stay quiet, ignoring the way your shoulder brushes against his, watching in silence as Patrick and Kat get together, as Cameron and Bianca start seeing each other, even as Kat finds out she’s been played and Beomgyu starts asking questions, wondering if they are going to be okay.

“Is it that bad?”

“You mean being lied to and finding out he wasn’t interested from the start?” You raise your eyebrow and he closes his mouth again. “I get that just…you can see it in him that he loves her, right?”

“That’s true,” you nod slightly. “And that’s why they’re not going to stay apart forever.” That seems to quiet him down, eyes focused on the movie again.

As soon as the movie finishes, you shift in your place, Beomgyu’s eyes falling to your figure. “So? What do you think?” You ask to break the awkward silence. At least that’s what it seems like to you. “It’s really good,” he nods, his voice quiet. You want to ask if he’s okay, what is he thinking about and if he wants a glass or water or anything, but before you can do so, he is already on his feet, fixing his pants. “I should go now,” he says and you notice he doesn’t look you in the eyes. “It’s late and my mom is probably waiting for me.”

You nod, unsure of what to do. A part of you wants to stop him, ask him to stay longer and talk with you—about school, your part-time job, anything he wants—but you know you can’t. So instead, you stand up as well, leaving the laptop on your bed as you walk him out, watching him say his goodbye to your parents and them returning it with such a bright smile you’d think they’re talking to your best friend.

You linger at the door as Beomgyu walks out of your house, a plastic bag with his new clothes swinging in one of his hands. He looks back just once, your eyes meeting for a brief second, a spark flickering in them before he gives you one of his soft smiles, waving at you before disappearing into the dark.

You’re not sure what it is that had him running out of your room so quickly, but you know one thing—spending the day with him changed something.

Something you couldn’t quite name yet.

There has to be a logical explanation for the sudden change, and you doubt it’s the different clothes.

Taehyun seems to think the same, his eyes narrowing as he glances between you, Beomgyu, and the girl standing near the table, a smile on her face. Your eyes lock with his and he immediately wonders what’s happening. You shrug, as confused as he is. Soobin besides you doesn’t look as fazed, his eyes focused on his food, completely ignoring the situation happening around.

He wasn’t always eating lunch with the three of you but he knew about the situation. Beomgyu’s crush wasn’t a secret, and because they were best friends, there was no need to hide his plan from him either.

“Thanks for the help with the english homework,” Yuna smiles, making you roll your eyes. When you see Taehyun scoffing opposite you, you smile as well. You’re glad you’re not the only one feeling this way—like her whole presence near you is an irony.

“No problem,” Beomgyu answers with a shy smile. “Anytime.”

“This soup is really good,” Soobin interrupts and you’re not sure if he can’t read the room or just doesn’t care. Either way, Beomgyu glares at him, ignoring his comment completely.

“Okay,” she giggles gently, a sound so perfect you can see why Beomgyu would fall for her. Despite your differences and your disagreement with her actions, you get it. Deep down, you understand. She’s pretty, with long shiny hair and glossy lips. Her skin looks as soft as she sounds when she speaks, and her laugh sounds more beautiful than you expected.

“I’ll see you around then,” Beomgyu smiles at her awkwardly as she walks off to her table of friends, humming instead of answering. You wouldn’t consider this a real conversation or progress but when you see his eyes, you can’t say it out loud. He looks too proud of himself for that. “Did you guys see that?”

“No, not really,” Soobin says, not bothered at all. Beomgyu rolls his eyes at him but his smile doesn’t fall off his lips. “I’ve seen it. It’s weird,” Taehyun frowns.

“It’s not weird.”

“It is.”

“You don’t think it’s weird, do you?” Beomgyu looks at you, making you blink quickly. Your eyes flicker from him to his two friends, searching for help. Because honestly, you’re not sure.

“You like her,” you shrug, brushing the question off. Beomgyu raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything else, the topic slowly drifting to something no one minds talking about—their band practice.

Taehyun tells you about a new song they’re working on, complimenting Beomgyu’s work on the music—which makes his neck turn red—and laughing as he remembers how Kai’s legs got tangled with the cables and he knocked down a bunch of instruments. You gasp when you hear the story, worried about him and all the instruments that must have been damaged. Thankfully, Taehyun assures you no one got hurt, not a single guitar or band member.

“Have you prepared for the spring festival yet?” Soobin wonders, munching on his food. “There’s a month left and you’re performing, right?”

“Forty days,” Beomgyu corrects. “And…not really. I’m working on it, I promise. I told the manager we’d be performing three new songs so I need to make that happen,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Inspiration has been avoiding me lately.”

“What normally works for you?” You ask, watching his eyes widen slightly. He thinks about it, his mouth falling open and then closing again multiple times. “I’m not… I’m not sure actually. It usually just appears out of nowhere, I don’t think there’s a pattern or something that would make me write good music.”

“Relaxed mind,” Taehyun speaks up. “And memories. That usually works for me.”

You nod, glancing between the three boys. It’s true that ever since you went shopping with him, he’s been out of it. Sure, he still talks like he is on crack a lot of the time, his brain working faster than yours ever could, but every time you mention his music, his smile seems to falter for a second. And now that you know he hasn’t been able to write anything lately, it starts to make sense.

“Alright. We should do something then. Relaxed mind and memories? I think I know of a way to connect that with our little mission,” you smile gently, ignoring Taehyun narrowing his eyes at you, studying you, and only focusing on Beomgyu, his lips turning into a soft smile you’ve grown to love over the past few days. “Have you ever played basketball?”

Athletes were one of the most obvious things on Yuna’s like-list. Her dating history said enough. It was only natural for the next step of your plan to be something to do with sports—but Beomgyu certainly didn’t expect to be playing on the school court with the captain of the basketball team.

“You’re late,” he comments, looking at a non-existential watch on his hand. “Wasn’t Jake supposed to be here?” You ask instead of answering, walking closer to Heeseung, one of your old friends from middle school, Beomgyu following right after you. “Change of plans,” he shrugs innocently. “He had a chore to run to and I wanted to check out who you were so eager to teach basketball to.” There’s a hint of amusement in his voice that makes you roll your eyes because you know exactly what he’s referring to. The last time you asked him and Jake to play basketball with you was when you wanted to introduce your boyfriend to them, but this was a different situation.

A completely different one.

“Heeseung, meet Beomgyu. Beomgyu, Heeseung,” you introduce them briefly. “He wants to impress a girl and needs to be good at sports for that.” Beomgyu shoots you a look immediately, a silent plea not to tell on him completely. It’s enough that he has to listen to Taehyun’s constant ranting about how stupid it is and Kai’s teasing, he doesn’t need it from a stranger as well.

“Nice to meet you,” Beomgyu extends his arm awkwardly, a brief smile on his lips. Heeseung shakes his hand without a second of hesitation, his smile much wider. “Who’s the lucky girl?” He wonders and before Beomgyu can answer, you turn to him. “He always wants to know all the gossip to have a clear picture of others in his head but he doesn’t tell others. You don’t have to worry about anyone finding out.”

Beomgyu nods. “Yuna,” he admits, quickly looking around to check no one else was in. It’s kind of cute. It would be if he wasn’t talking about the one girl you don’t want him to talk about. You think it might feel a lot better if it wasn’t someone so different from you—if it was someone you didn’t compare yourself to so often.

Heeseung whistles, laughing softly. “That’s a tough one.” — “Do you think it’s not worth it?” Heeseung tilts his head slightly, taking a proper look at the boy in front of him. “That’s something you have to decide on your own. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, otherwise she wouldn’t be talking to you,” his eyes fall to you quickly before he looks back at Beomgyu. “And that alone gives you a chance with anyone.”

Beomgyu narrows his eyes at him, glancing at you. “I don’t think that was an encouragement.” Heeseung laughs at him, shaking his head. “If you want my insight, Yuna is not someone everyone can deal with. And I’m not one to tell you if she’s good for you or the other way around.”

You shake your head. “Just tell him it’s all worth it. It better be when we are putting so much effort in for her,” you laugh, the sound bitter. Heeseung raises an eyebrow at you, eyeing you up and down but before he can ask anything, you tell them to start playing already because you don’t have the whole day for them. It’s a lie. Once you knew you’d be spending the afternoon with Beomgyu again, you cancelled your shift and free-upped the rest of your day.

You don’t want to be time limited. Not when you’re with him.

Heeseung throws the ball to Beomgyu, daring him to show off what he is capable of. He hesitates, eyes flickering between you and Heeseung before he starts dribbling, trying to get around the captain. But this is Heeseung’s arena and he doesn’t let him win easily, stealing the ball the first chance he gets and running to the other side of the court, scoring perfectly.

It goes like that for a while, Beomgyu slowly getting used to the pace and learning when to try going through Heeseung and when not. It’s not easy at all but that’s something he expected. Playing with the captain couldn’t be easy.

“You’re good,” Heeseung praises, scoring another point. Beomgyu scoffs, pushing his sweaty hair back. “You learn fast and are confident.”

“I haven’t scored even half as many times as you did.”

“Yeah but I’ve been training my whole life,” he says, running around Beomgyu again before calling out to you. You raise your eyebrows confusedly, your eyes widening when the ball comes to you. You catch it, questioning what that was for. “Let’s play,” he explains simply, wrapping his arm around Beomgyu’s shoulder. “You haven’t gotten out of your form, have you?”

“You play?” Beomgyu asks confusedly, his eyes wide. You smile, dribbling slowly as you walk closer. “It’s impossible not to when you’re surrounded with people that do,” you shrug as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “But I’m not any good, don’t worry.”

“That’s a lie,” Heeseung leans closer to Beomgyu, chuckling. “I always ask her to play against our newbies to see how good they are. She never loses,” the praises leave his lips as if it’s his second nature, making you roll your eyes. However, when Beomgyu smiles at you, saying he wants to play with you, a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth as well. “Let me take my glasses off first, they’re pissing me off.”

You watch him take them off and hide them inside his bag, your eyes never leaving him. It’s the first time you’ve seen him without them and a part of you is grateful for that. It’s really hard to focus on anything when he looks like that—absolutely gorgeous with his big brown eyes sparkling with excitement. Yeah, this wasn’t good for you at all.

Running around the court, sweating your ass off, was never something you enjoyed a lot. It was the main reason why you never wanted to play basketball for a club. But running around with Heeseung and Beomgyu by your side was something completely different. You were laughing, your stomach hurting from how much. Your hair was sticking to your forehead and you were sure it wasn’t a pleasing sight, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. Not when your eyes were focused on the sweat on Beomgyu’s forehead, his laugh addicting.

If it was with him, you could run forever on this court.

“Timeout, timeout,” Beomgyu repeats over and over again, his breathing heavy as he leans forward, his hands resting on his knees. Despite the exhaustion, he is still laughing softly, trying to collect himself again. His whole body feels too heavy all of a sudden. He falls to the floor, laying on his back and closing his eyes. Heeseung beside you laughs while you slowly walk over to him, sitting down beside him.

Your own breathing is unsteady but you’re still doing better than him, resting your hands on the ground beside you and blowing air up to your forehead in a lame attempt to get your hair out of your face.

“Well then, it’s good you’re so smart,” you mumble and he prompts himself up on his eyebrows, watching you curiously. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You panic slightly, shaking your hands in front of your face. “I mean, you don’t have to be sporty! You are, obviously, uhm, I–”

His soft laugh interrupts you, a sigh full of relief escaping your lips. “I’m just teasing you. I’m glad I’m smart as well,” he assures you, glancing at Heeseung who is still standing up, a bottle of water in his hands now. You’re not sure where he got it but you need one as well, extending your arm towards him and asking him to pass it over. “Not that anything would be wrong with being an athlete, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Heeseung laughs, handing you the water. “You’re good,” he shakes his head, joining you on the ground. “That was fun, though. You do have a talent,” he assures him and you smile again, agreeing. Beomgyu grins proudly, mumbling something about always knowing he’d be good. It makes you laugh again. It’s amazing how easy it is for him to make you laugh but you definitely don’t complain.

As you’re collecting your things from the ground and saying your goodbyes to Heeseung, he pulls out his phone, telling you to wait. Both you and Beomgyu look over, questioning what he needs. “Let’s exchange numbers.”

Beomgyu smiles, quickly pulling out his phone and handing it to Heeseung for him to put his number in. “I’ve got a few pictures when you two were playing, let me send it to you.” You frown confusedly but Heeseung only smirks at you, Beomgyu’s phone lighting up with a new message instantly. “I think they are good, you should post them.”

There’s a bunch of photos of the two of you playing and laughing, some solo shots of Beomgyu, and even a picture of him laying on the ground just a few minutes ago. His smile widens, an idea sparkling in his head. Beomgyu quickly turns towards you, showing you a picture of him with the ball, his forehead sweaty, hair falling into his eyes. “Yuna said she likes big followings, right? I should start posting anyway, and this one is good, right?”

You freeze for a second, nodding slightly. “Yeah,” you mumble, biting your bottom lip to make sure you don’t say anything else. The words, “Can’t you do something just for yourself and not her?” hanging dangerously on the tip of your tongue.

“Alright, I see you around,” Heeseung says, sensing the sudden shift in your energy. “Call me later, yeah?” You nod, smiling awkwardly, holding tightly onto your bag. “I will,” you agree, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes again, hoping he can’t see how broken you feel over something so stupid. “Let’s go?”

When you get home you notice Beomgyu’s new post. The same picture he showed you earlier. When you scroll to another picture, he’s laughing with you and it makes you smile. The last picture he posted is of him laying on the ground, exhaustion visible. You think back to the moment and even though it’s only been minutes since you last saw him, you find yourself missing him already.

You want to spend more time with him, create more memories and laugh with him. But as soon as your eyes fall to the like button under his post, the silly wish disappears because you know you can’t ask for that. Not when his eyes are already on someone else.

Liked by yunaluxe and others.

You turn your phone off, throwing it beside you on the bed and burying your face in your pillow, a loud, regretting groan leaving your mouth.

The club room is loud, the electric guitar shaking the walls when Beomgyu walks in. Taehyun doesn’t notice him at first, his eyes closed as he plays, his grimace making Beomgyu wonder what he’s thinking about. It’s been long since he heard him play like that. Taehyun was usually calm, keeping his troubles to himself in order not to bother others.

“Hey,” Beomgyu greets him, Taehyun’s fingers stopping mid move as his eyes flutter open. “Hey. Sorry that was,” he tilts his head and swallows a lump in his throat, his brows furrowed as he thinks about how to explain himself. “I needed to cool off for a second.”

“Everything good?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” he shakes his head. “Just a rough day. Math and all,” he brushes it off and even though Beomgyu feels a bit uneasy, he nods, getting his guitar out of the case. “Yeah, math sucks,” he plays into it, smiling as he joins his side. “It completely tired me today as well. Should we play it off together?”

Taehyun’s lips turn into a smile, “Sure.”

Kai laughs awkwardly as he walks into the club room, making both Taehyun and Beomgyu turn his way. The two of them are sitting at a table in the corner of the room now, chatting about nothing in particular while waiting for their third member. He’s late, which isn’t usual for him.

“You got lost or what?” Beomgyu asks with a light laugh, his smile falling off when he notices another figure behind Kai. “Kind of,” he chuckles, a teasing smirk on his face as he steps aside for the two boys to see. “Oh.”

“Hi,” Yuna smiles warmly, fixing her skirt in a way that has Beomgyu thinking she wants him to look. He clears his throat, glancing at Taehyun instead. “I’m going to absolutely embarrass myself,” he whispers, his eyes screaming for any sort of help. Taehyun just rolls his eyes at him, jumping down from the table. “What brings you here?”

“I saw Huening in the hallway and asked him about you,” her eyes briefly flicker to Beomgyu, his neck turning red under her gaze. “And when he said you’ve got practice right now, I asked if it would be possible to join you.”

Beomgyu pulls a chair for her, unsure if he should yell at Kai or be thankful. He feels like a mess, with no idea what to do. There has to be a right and wrong answer but he can’t find them for some reason. So he simply grabs his guitar, squeezing it tightly as he waits for his band mates to prepare as well.

It’s awkward. He avoids meeting her eyes as much as possible while her gaze lingers on his figure in a way he didn’t think was possible. A part of him feels excited, but the other is just tensed, insecure, and intimidated. Sure, they’ve played for others before. The three of them stood together on a podium in front of a bunch of people since middle school, but this was different—intimate.

“Okay, uhm, let’s start with spring,” Beomgyu looks over his shoulder at Kai behind the drums and then back at Yuna, sharing an awkward smile with her before his fingers gently move over the strings, one hand holding the pick and determining the rhythm while the other switches between different chords.

As the soft melody echoes through the room, his eyes close, focusing on his voice as he starts with the first verse. Spring is an old song from four years ago they play to this date to warm up. It was also one of the first songs Beomgyu has written, and even though he knows he has improved a lot since then, he still feels proud.

“Should we do Wake up next?” Kai suggests as soon as the song comes to an end. Beomgyu’s eyes widen, anxiety running through his whole body. “Yeah, let’s do that,” Taehyun agrees without hesitation, ignoring Beomgyu’s panicked look. Wake up is a recent song, one he wrote with Yuna in mind. It’s embarrassing on its own, even more so when he’s supposed to play it in front of her.

“Oh, is that a new song? I haven’t heard of that one,” Yuna asks excitedly, her bright eyes catching him off guard. It feels like he is talking to a completely different person. Just a few weeks ago, he was convinced there wasn’t an universe where she would like him back and now, he felt like he was in a dream. Beomgyu from a month ago would be jealous of him now, absolutely excited to play a song for her.

But now, he doesn’t feel that. He feels lost and confused as his voice fills the room because it’s not Yuna or her pretty smile that his mind drifts to.

It’s you, the girl he’s spent so much of his time with lately he can’t see a reality in which he doesn’t talk to you.

His fingers slip. The chord misses. His heart stutters, faster than the tempo, his head clouded with memories of everything you did together. It’s weird, wrong. He’s supposed to be thrilled, jumping from excitement that he gets to show off his music in front of Yuna and possibly get closer to her, so why is it only you he can think of while playing a love song he wrote?

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Beomgyu shakes his head, stopping before the song ends. Taehyun and Kai stop their movements as well, watching him confusedly. “My head is elsewhere,” he admits, mentally slapping himself to snap out of it. “It’s okay,” Taehyun assures him, his voice giving away that he is confused. This hasn’t happened before. If anyone was out of it during practice, it was Kai. Beomgyu was always focused, relaxing with the music and getting his mind off any unnecessary thoughts. It was weird.

“We can take a break,” Kai suggests, anxious when he looks at Yuna. He brought her in because he wanted to help Beomgyu and make them closer, he’d hate for this little mistake to cause the opposite. Thankfully, she doesn’t look disgusted like he expects her to, the same warm smile on her lips that calms him down a bit. “Sorry,” Beomgyu mumbles again, placing his guitar on the stand.

“It was really great,” Yuna says softly and Beomgyu’s eyes finally meet hers. “Don’t worry about it, the song sounds amazing.” — “Right,” he nods slightly, jumping up on the same table as before, his feet swinging in the air. “It’ll be better at the spring festival.” It’s a light promise that causes Yuna’s smile to widen, nodding happily. “I can’t wait to listen to it. I should go now, Minseo needs my help with getting alcohol for her party,” she giggles, the sound sending a shiver down Beomgyu’s spine. “You’re all coming, right?”

The guys exchange a look, unsure of what to say. Beomgyu only heard of the party when Minseo was talking to you about it in the café and honestly, he completely forgot about it. He didn’t think he was invited anyway, he never was. “You have to, it’ll be fun,” she encourages them, grabbing her hand back from the floor and standing up. “I’ll see you there,” she grins before any of them even answer her, not giving them a choice. And just like that, she walks away, leaving the three boys alone in the room.

Kai blinks confusedly, trying to figure out what just happened. He thought something was up right when Yuna approached him and asked him about their practice, but this was on a completely new level of insane. He turns his head towards Beomgyu who is as lost as he is, his gaze lingering at the door.

But for some reason, he doesn’t miss Yuna, doesn’t look there and imagine her figure. No, all he can think about is how wrong it felt playing the song for her, and how much he wishes it was you sitting on the chair in front of him, laughing with them at the stupid jokes Kai made or the way he messed up the chords.

Because with you he doesn’t feel the same pressure as with Yuna.

With you, it just feels easy.

“You haven’t forgotten, right?” You blink confusedly, looking up to see who’s talking to you. Your confusion only grows when your eyes meet Minseo who you haven’t talked to since the day in the café. “About…?” She gasps, shaking her head in disappointment. “The party, obviously! You have to come.” The fact she’s talking to you doesn’t surprise you as much as the way she finally says your name correctly does.

“I…when is it?” You ask carefully, hoping she doesn’t yell at you. She simply sighs, opening her phone to show you something. “Have you lived under a rock until now? It’s bold on here,” she turns her screen towards you, your eyes quickly scanning her story with the time and address. It is clear and you’re sure everyone knows about it already. It’s your fault for not following her.

“Tell me you don’t have anything today. We talked about this a month ago already.”

“I, no, I’m free,” you nod, a little uncertain. Parties weren’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t know how to tell her no. It was the first time someone out of her circle talked to you about anything other than homework they needed help with, and even though you knew it was pathetic holding onto it so much when you complained about their lack of intellect a lot before, you didn’t want to miss out on your chance to prove to them you weren’t just a nerd who didn’t have any hobbies outside of studying.

“Then it’s settled,” she claps her hands happily. “Bring whoever you want with yourself as long as they’re fun, I don’t care.” You nod, someone popping into your head immediately. She grins, waving at you slightly before walking out of the class, already chatting with someone else.

You brush your hands on your skirt awkwardly, trying to get them to stop sweating as you step out of the car, Beomgyu and his two friends right behind you. Kai’s older sister quickly wishes you to have fun, telling Kai to call her once he needs a ride back before driving off, leaving the four of you at the sidewalk.

“This is so weird,” Taehyun comments, looking at the already full house. Some people are in the garden, laughing around the pool while one of Minseo’s friends stands behind the DJ pult, mixing songs in a way that gives away that she is definitely not supposed to touch the device.

“Tell me about it,” Beomgyu mumbles while Kai just grins, way more excited than the three of you. “Oh, come on. It’s going to be fun!”

“Or extremely embarrassing.” Kai rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around Taehyun’s shoulder and walking towards the house, yelling how lame you and Beomgyu are. You watch their back in disbelief, glancing at Gyu beside you. He’s wearing one of his ripped jeans with an oversized band shirt, looking as handsome as ever. He also isn’t wearing his glasses, and so when he turns his head towards you, his eyes meeting yours, you feel weak in the knees.

“Let’s go,” he smiles and you avert your eyes, squeezing the bottom of your skirt as you gaze into the ground beneath your feet. He seems to notice your uneasiness, wrapping his hand around your shoulder and pulling you closer into a brief side hug. You raise your head again, surprise written all over your face as you watch him, eyes wide. “You look amazing,” he assures you, thinking that’s what’s bothering you. “I told you when we were buying the clothes and I’ll tell you all over again until you believe it.”

It’s incredible how easy it is for Beomgyu to have your heart racing. His words echo in your head, his cologne reaching your nose as he slowly walks with you towards the house as well, keeping you close. You look down on your clothes again, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you stare at the white skirt and pink sweater—the same clothes he bought for you a few weeks back.

Beomgyu grabs a drink for you and him as soon as you get inside, finding a space in the corner of the room. He tells you about a new show he’s been watching, how his new song has been going, and even about his failure at cooking dinner last night. You laugh, slowly getting comfortable again and forgetting about everyone else, your world only having two people in it—you and him.

You’re not sure where Kai and Taehyun disappeared or if they were having fun but it’s what bothers you the least at the moment, unable to focus on anything that wasn’t Choi Beomgyu and his soft voice.

But your little bubble is interrupted when your eyes meet Yuna’s behind Beomgyu and she walks over, greeting you with the same annoyingly beautiful smile. You take a sip of your drink and a small step back to make space for her, Beomgyu mimicking your movements. “Hey,” he greets her back, introducing you to her as if you didn’t already know who she was. “Oh, yeah, my bio girl, right?” She asks and you grit your teeth, nodding.

It’s ridiculous. You’ve been in her bio class for two years and she always came to you asking for help or homework answers, often cheating off your tests as well, so how were you still only labeled as her bio girl? It made you feel like a joke.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other,” she mumbles. You bite back the insult you want to say and simply smile, letting Beomgyu answer. “Yeah, we’ve been friends for a while,” he nods, glancing at you. There’s a flicker of something you can’t name in his eyes, making you blink confusedly. Haven’t you known better, you think it’s pain, regretted behind those words. Does he not see you as his friend?

“Oh, right, I saw you on Beomgyu’s post when he was playing basketball, right?” You nod again, shaking it off and focusing your attention at Yuna again. “Well, it was nice meeting you,” she says, shutting you out of the conversation before you can say anything else. “I don’t have anything to drink, mind grabbing something with me?” Beomgyu opens his mouth and closes it again, his eyes flickering between the two of you before he nods hesitantly, letting her wrap her arm around his and pull him away, leaving you standing there alone with just a cup of vodka in your hands.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t feel like shit but there’s nothing you can do, watching them from your corner while sipping on your drink, looking like someone drained life out of you. Minseo seems to notice when she walks over to you to greet you, her smile turning into a frown as she asks what’s going on. You don’t answer. Can’t. But she figures it out on her own, her eyes following yours and finding Beomgyu and Yuna chatting near the drinks, both laughing over something he said.

“Oh,” she breathes out, standing in front of you to cover the sight. She raises her cup, unsure of what to say to make you feel better. “Yuna is… I didn’t know… I mean,” she clears her throat, feeling the pain in her gaze. You shake your head, raising your cup as well and forcing a smile, drinking with her. Your eyebrows furrow when the bitter taste fully settles in, the grimace you make making Minseo laugh. You’re glad at least one of you is able to laugh at the moment.

“You know, I’m not as stupid as everyone thinks,” she says suddenly, glancing back at them again. “So I really enjoy talking to you because I know you’re not stupid either.” — “Thanks?” You interrupt confusedly and she sighs. “My point is, I wanted to have a friend who was smart and also could talk about stupid boys with me so I wanted to help you get a boy, I told you that, right?” You nod, trying to see where her monologue is going. “But he’s…I can’t really help you when Yuna wants him as well. You understand, right?”

Your eyes widen, your lips shaking a bit as you try to answer her. But what is it that you’re supposed to say? Yeah, no worries, I get that she wins every time? Oh thank you for being such a great friend, Minseo?

Instead, you brush it off, changing the conversation before she can say anything else and make you feel even worse. She seems to prefer it that way as well. Her smile returns and she tells you about the boy she is seeing at the moment, complaining about him not showing up today before she drags you with herself towards the center of the room, introducing you to a few people as if you were really her friend.

You sit down on the couch right beside her, fixing your skirt when it rolls up higher than you’d want. One of the guys offers you his drink but you refuse, saying you’re good. It’s only when you see Yuna holding Beomgyu’s hand and pulling him with herself for a dance that you grab the drink from him, gulping it down in one go. There’s a few whistles around you and cheers but they don’t reach your ears. The only thing you can hear is Minseo telling you to be careful before you receive another cup with who knows what.

You’re not sure how long you’re sitting there, drinking and chatting with Minseo’s friends but it does help make you feel better. You push Beomgyu out of your head for a while, thinking about getting home and watching a movie with your mom instead of the boy that keeps breaking your heart over and over again without knowing about it. It feels nice to be able to focus on something else for once, but with your luck, it doesn’t last long.

“Here you are,” Beomgyu’s voice is a little panicked when he finds you, sounding as if he was looking for you all over the house. His breathing is unsteady as he looks around the group of people surrounding you, frowning. It’s an unusual crowd to say the least, especially when it’s Minseo of all people telling you to stop drinking because you’ve had enough. Your eyes flicker to him, your smile falling off. “Oh, hey.”

“Hi,” he greets you back even though he doesn’t understand, your name gentle on his lips. “Are you okay?” He asks, worried as he comes to stand beside you. You nod, smiling again. “Peachy.”

“She drank quite a lot,” Minseo tells him, making you roll your eyes. They’re acting as if you were wasted, unable to hear them. But you’re sitting right between them, annoyed with both of them. “The last time I checked I was able to drink however much I want,” you mumble, asking for another drink. Yeonjun who’s sitting opposite you reaches over and offers you his cup. You grab it without hesitation.

Beomgyu says your name again in a poor attempt to stop you but it only makes you want it more. You need to drown the pain he causes you. Need to shut his voice out before you start crying in front of everyone without even knowing why.

His words make Beomgyu even more uncertain, his blood boiling when he watches Yeonjun’s eyes trail down your body. It’s disgusting, really. He stands between you without hesitation. “Let’s go,” he tries again, watching your cheeks turn red as you look up at him, hoping for the couch to swallow your whole so you could disappear.

His eyes are pleasing and part of you wants nothing more than to leave with him right now, but it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.

Your eyes widen, feeling your heart is about to jump out of your chest when he tilts his head slightly, his eyes closed as he tastes your lips, his other hand moving from your to your waist, keeping you flush against him.

You’re out of breath when he pulls away, the loud cheers around making you snap out of your thoughts and realize what’s going on. Beomgyu holds your hand again, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “Can we go now?” You nod this time, squeezing his hand tightly as he pulls you away from the crowd, getting out of the house without looking back once.

You don’t look back either, your eyes fixed on your intertwined hands, unable to think straight as he pulls you towards Lae’s car, Taehyun and Kai already waiting inside.

He holds your hand throughout the whole ride without a single word, only letting you go when the car stops in front of your house and you step outside, your gaze lingering on him until Lea drives off and you’re finally able to break down, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks.

You don’t want to get out of your bed the next morning, frowning when the light from outside reaches your face. You hide your head under your blanket, groaning. You reach your hand out, trying to find your phone somewhere on the bed. Once you do, you’re left disappointed when you see it’s dead, slowly rolling out of the bed to charge it.

It feels like someone beat your head the whole night but you force yourself to get out of your room and find something to eat, trying your hardest to ignore the sickening feeling in your stomach that reminds you just how poor your decisions were last night.

“You’re awake,” your mom smiles from the kitchen counter, already handing you a glass of water and some scrambled eggs. You smile as you grab them from her, sitting down at the table where your dad is drinking his morning coffee. “Did you throw up last night?” He asks and you shake your head immediately, assuring him it wasn’t that bad.

“Beomgyu came by earlier,” your mom says as she settles into a chair beside you. Your eyes widen. “Asked if he could talk to you but you were asleep so I sent him back home. Did something happen?” You hesitate as you take a bite of your breakfast, remembering the way his lips felt against your last night. There’s a few things from last night that are blurry. You don’t remember how much you drank or what it was, but you remember this clearly.

“No, nothing happened,” you shake your head in the end. “It probably wasn’t that important, don’t worry about it.”

Nothing important. You try to convince yourself of that as well but as soon as you’re done eating, you rush back to your room, grabbing your phone immediately. Your lips curve into a smile when you see new messages from Beomgyu, feeling like for once, maybe life is going your way.

Beomgyu: Are you awake yet? Beomgyu: Can we talk? Beomgyu: I’m on my way to your house Beomgyu: Your mom said you’re still sleeping, just call me when you wake up? Beomgyu: I need to talk to you Beomgyu: And preferably see you as well Beomgyu: I miss you

He’s adorable. You rush to press the call button but freeze when you get a new notification. Yunaluxe shared a new story.

You click on the notification even though a part of you knows you shouldn’t. Your stomach immediately drops when you see a picture of her and Beomgyu from last night, her arm wrapped around his waist while the other holds up a drink. He is smiling, his arm around her waist as well. You feel sick as you read the caption. Love finding future celebrities before they’re famous.

You turn your phone off again and let it charge, jumping back into bed and closing your eyes, Beomgyu’s messages staying there unanswered. You can’t talk to him. Not when you know he thinks last night was a mistake. He likes Yuna, right? There’s no reason for him to talk to you.

Life never goes your way.

It hurts avoiding him, but it hurts even more seeing him. You turn away every time you catch just a glimpse of Beomgyu in the hallways, avoiding all his messages and calls. It’s been four days since you properly looked at your phone, not wanting to see what he texted you. You can’t. You’re sure that if you read his messages you’d cry again, and you’ve had enough of that.

So instead, you buried yourself in work. You took a shift every day of this week and once your classes ended, you ran to the basketball court immediately to be with Heeseung and Jake, making sure there wasn’t a minute you could meet or think about Beomgyu.

It worked.

At least until it didn’t.

You hear your name from behind, squeezing your eyes shut at the familiarity of it. You want to run away and pretend you didn’t hear him but before you can do so, he grabs your hand and your eyes widen. You slowly turn around, pulling your hand away from him. “Hey,” you greet him awkwardly.

He sighs. You expect him to accuse you of avoiding him, be mad, or even yell at you. Instead, he does the complete opposite. “Hi,” he says simply, his voice as soft as you remember it. You meet his eyes hesitantly, your heart shattering into tiny pieces when he smiles at you. “Can we talk?”

He doesn’t give you the chance to refuse, pulling you aside so you don’t stand in the way of other students. You’re both quiet for a while, unsure of what you’re supposed to say. An apology hangs at the tip of your tongue but the words never come out, the nervousness building up more and more the longer you stand there.

Eventually, you break the awkward silence. “It looks like your wish became reality.” His eyes widen, looking at you confusedly. You clear your throat, looking away. “Yuna likes you, it’s super obvious. You’ve been talking to her, right? I’m sure it’s going well for the two of you.”

“What? No– you– are you serious?” Now this is more in the tone of how you expected this conversation to go, the annoyance in his voice clear as day. “This has nothing to do with her. I wanted to talk to you. To you, about you.”

“Did Taehyun get used to her yet? I’m sure she’s also eating lunch with you now, right? I hope he isn’t making it too hard for you,” you say as if you couldn’t hear anything he said.

“Can’t you hear me?” He questions, taking a step forward. “This is not about Yuna or anyone else, I don’t care what Taehyun thinks of her. And no, she is not fucking eating lunch with us, which you would know if you weren’t running away from me. Seriously? Can’t you just talk to me, please.”

His voice breaks at the end and you have to bite the inside of your cheek. No, you can’t talk to him. It’s too hard. Too painful. You need to run away from him, this conversation, everything he makes you feel.

“I can’t,” you admit, focusing everything you have left on making sure your voice doesn’t break. If it did, you’re sure you’d cry. “I can’t, Beomgyu. Please, just go be happy with her and let me get over you in peace. I want to be your friend, I really do, but I need to be alone at first to be able to do that.”

Beomgyu opens his mouth to argue, tell you how stupid it all is and that he doesn’t want you to do that, that he needs you closer than ever now. You walk away before he can do so, breathing heavily as you turn your back to him. It’s not fair.

It’s the only thing both of you can think about. It’s not fair.

It’s not fair he gets to walk around all happy with his dream girl liking him back while you have to watch, every word that comes out of his mouth breaking you in a different way.

It’s not fair you get to walk away and look for closure while he is left standing there alone, unable to do anything but watch you as he regrets everything that happened in the past few weeks. As he regrets everything except for you.

Beomgyu doesn’t need to speak for his friends to know something is wrong. As soon as he walks into the club room and sits down, it’s obvious he isn’t okay. Taehyun and Kai exchange a quick look before walking over to him, sitting beside him without a word.

“Is everything…good?” Taehyun asks awkwardly, immediately shutting his eyes closed and regretting how off he sounds. “Perfect,” Beomgyu mumbles, only confirming their worries. “What happened?”

Beomgyu hesitates, staying quiet for a while and repeating everything inside his head. Yeah, what did happened? When did everything go so fucking wrong? “We kissed,” he admits with a sigh. “Who?” Kai frowns and Taehyun immediately slaps his shoulder, shaking his head. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, your name leaving his lips before he can stop it. “On the party. And as you might have noticed, she’s been ignoring me since.”

“Wait, slow down, you kissed her? I thought you wanted Yuna?” Kai asks confusedly, the surprise in his voice obvious. “Dude, it was so obvious they have feelings for each other,” Taehyun says and Beomgyu immediately turns his head towards him. “You think she has feelings for me?” He wonders, a little too excited.

“I know she does. Have you seen the way she looks at you?”

A smile forms on his lips, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared when he remembers you don’t want to see him right now, even if you do like him. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter now. Nothing matters now. She doesn’t want me around and says I should be with Yuna.”

“Wasn’t that what you always wanted?” Beomgyu glares at Kai and the poor boy raises his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying, you can’t blame her when Yuna has been the only thing you’ve been able to talk about for weeks.”

“That’s not true,” he argues even though he doesn’t believe it himself.

“It’s slightly true,” Taehyun nods. “But it’s definitely not lost yet,” he assures him quickly when he sees the pain in his eyes. “I know you and I know her, you two are way too good friends to be able to stay apart for so long. I’ve known you for years, Beomgyu, and as long as I’ve known you, Soobin was always your best friend. But after meeting her? It was so painfully obvious you like her the most out of all of us. I wondered all the time if you only see her as a friend. And she looks at you the same. Like you’re the whole world.”

Beomgyu doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how. Silence takes over the room again and Taehyun wonders if he said something wrong, nervously glancing at Kai.

“Do you want to cancel practice today? We don’t have to have one. We are basically perfect,” the youngest asks carefully but Beomgyu just shakes his head, standing up slowly. “No, we should practice. The spring festival is in a few days and we can’t mess up. I’ve heard some recording companies will be there.”

They don’t argue with him, following him to their instruments without saying anything else. The silence is weird, uncomfortable, and it makes Taehyun and Kai uneasy. It’s the first time since they started playing together that their practice was this quiet.

Beomgyu grumbles as he keeps messing up the chords, his head too loud compared to the silence in the room. It’s unbearable. But he pushes through anyway, not wanting to bother his friends with something so small as a failed crush he realized he had too late.

It’s only when Taehyun suggests playing a different song that he finally manages to play somewhat stable. The right melody finally echoing through the club room. And as Taehyun starts singing and Beomgyu prepares for his verse, his mind drifts off again. He sees you, standing right in front of him and cheering him on with your big eyes, watching him like he is the star.

And in that moment, it feels like all of his pain vanishes, only the happy memories he has with you remaining.

“I need to go,” he blurts out all of a sudden, quickly packing his guitar. His friends watch him confusedly, blinking as he runs off without another word, unsure of what to do now.

You’re not sure about this. You stare down at your outfit, thinking if you should change again. You’re wearing a light blue dress that you’d normally love but for some reason can’t seem to feel good in right now.

“You look gorgeous, I promise. Beomgyu is going to fall to his knees when he sees you,” Heeseung assures you, watching you from your bed. But it’s not about whether he’ll like it or not, you don’t even know if you want him to. Jake turns off his phone and looks at you as well, a soft smile playing on his lips as he shakes his head at you. “It’s beautiful. No need to stress it. We’re going there to have fun, not for some dumb dude. What was his name? Beomhuj? Or something like that.” You giggle as Jake playfully winks at you, making you feel better without having to try much.

You’re glad they are going with you. You don’t think you’d be able to go alone. When you met Soobin in the hallway two days ago, he offered to go with you and you doubted he knew anything about what happened with you and Beomgyu so you simply rejected his offer softly. You weren’t going to go anyway. Just last night, you were set on staying home and laying in bed with your comfort movies, but then Heeseung and Jake came over, also set on something—making you go with them.

You weren’t in the mood to argue with them and so you got dressed, letting them convince you.

And now, you’re standing right behind the barricade with each boy on your side, awkwardly looking around the empty podium. You told yourself you weren’t excited, that you were there simply because your friends made you, so why were you searching for a certain boy with your eyes the whole time?

Beomgyu, Taehyun and Kai walk on the podium shortly after, the cheers and whistles loud around you. Even though you’re supposed to feel sad, mad even, all you are at the moment is proud. They are incredible. You know how hard they worked up to this point and seeing the crowd cheering for them makes you giddy. They deserve this, no matter what anyone else says.

You watch Beomgyu introduce their band, his eyes nervously scanning the whole crowd. It might be just your imagination but you swear you catch a glimpse of his smile when his eyes finally land on you, clearing his throat as Kai starts playing the drums and music takes over the place.

You smile as you listen to their music, all the sadness and emptiness you felt before washing off. You can’t help it. Even though a part of you wants to run away and hide so you never have to see him again, your other half heals when you listen to him. It always had.

The song comes to an end and Beomgyu glances at his bandmates quickly before wrapping his hand around the mic, smiling at the crowd.

“This is the first time we’re playing this song and it’s quite fresh, so I’m sorry if we sound a bit off,” he laughs awkwardly. “I wrote it at my worst and best at the same time. This one is for, uhm, a special someone,” he proclaims, avoiding eye contact as he thinks over his words. “It’s for the girl who makes me feel so much at once I’m unable to think straight, someone who has been there with me even when I was so oblivious it hurt her,” you see him glance at you briefly, his eyes saying everything you wanted to hear after accepting the fact you like him. You swallow a lump in your throat, shifting nervously and glancing at the two boys beside you.

“This one is called Because of you. I hope you like it.”

You blink confusedly as the melody surrounds you, the excitement in your eyes obvious as you look at Heeseung to make sure you’re not dreaming. He has a playful smirk on his lips, nodding as if he could read your mind completely.

“You laughed at things I couldn’t say, And made them rhyme inside my chest, I thought I’d lost the words one day, But with you, I found the rest,”

Beomgyu’s voice makes you melt in an instant, your eyes glued to his as he sings his song, a song just for the two of you. You get your serenade, you realize. A song he wrote for you and no one else. Your smile widens, cheering him on with the rest of the crowd, causing his grin to widen as well.

“Because of you, I raise my voice, Not to impress, but to rejoice, You turned the noise into a song, And showed me where my words belong, I used to run, now I stand through, Because of you,”

The words play in your head the same way the first song you’ve heard him play did, the melody already stuck in your head as you hum along, singing with him as if you’ve known the song for years. Maybe it’s because it’s him, maybe because it’s the two of you, but you don’t care. Not when he stares at you throughout the whole song, even though you know Yuna is somewhere in the crowd as well.

As soon as the song ends, Beomgyu glances at Taehyun for reassurance, giggling when he sees the proud nod he gives him. He rolls his eyes playfully when he sees how excited Beomgyu is, shaking his head. “Do I need to tell you everything? Get down there,” he encourages.

Beomgyu turns towards the crowd again, laughing awkwardly. “If you guys excuse me for a moment.” He doesn’t wait for their answer, doesn’t wait for anything really as he puts away his guitar and rushes down the podium to the barricade. You watch him with amusement, giggling softly as Jake claps beside you.

It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you wanting more, making you feel absolutely drunk on him. You kiss him back without hesitation, smiling. If every kiss with him feels like butterflies exist in your stomach—you want to kiss him forever.

He pulls back a little breathless, resting his forehead against yours.

“It’s you. Deep down, I knew it’s always been you.”

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1d1195 · 4 hours ago

Text

Under Construction III

Read Under Construction here | ~7.8k

From Me: this is a mess but I think it's cute

Warning: like two seconds of blood and then fluff and angsty shit

Summary: “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

It wasn’t lunch time, so Harry wasn’t standing by the fence like a certified creep. “Mr. Harry!” Someone shouted. He instinctively turned toward the field and found the gaggle of cuties lined up at the edge of the field. How he didn’t hear them approach was beyond him.

They were led by none other than the cutest woman of all. Today she wore a long green jacket. Black pants peeked out from it. Her coat had a tie fabric cinching her waist. Harry never paid much attention to what his date wore, but everything on her made her look three times as adorable if it were even possible.

He gave a wave, heading over to the group. “Hey everyone,” he greeted. “Early recess?” He asked.

They all glanced at her making sure it was okay to answer. “Go ahead, you know what to say,” she encouraged.

Harry remembered Amara (the little girl who bent her neck back at an incredible angle to chat with him last week) as she stepped forward to look up at him once more. “Miss Bee said our sandwich party is going to be on Halloween. So you can dress up as your dream job.”

He smirked and glanced at her. “What if this is m’dream job?” Because there wasn’t a world in which it wasn’t. Not if fate and destiny put him precisely at her side just because he got this job. It was the best job in the world.

They looked at her again. “That’s okay,” she affirmed with a laugh.

“Sometimes Miss Bee has silly rules, so we have to check.”

“I beg your pardon, they’re not silly!” She frowned with mock annoyance.

“Mr. Niall can come too!” Another one said excitedly.

“We’ve been really good in math too, so we get to ask you question too!” Kai bounced with energy that seemed quite misplaced in asking two construction workers about their jobs.

“Janie, do you want to give Mr. Harry what you brought?”

Harry watched as another little girl stepped forward. She held two folded pieces of construction paper, and she handed them up and toward Harry at the fence. “It’s made out of construction paper. Like your job,” she said explained as if Harry hadn’t a clue what it was. “One’s for Mr. Niall too.”

“Miss Bee wrote the cover part and then we all got to make a page each.”

Harry was enthralled with the cover. It had her extremely beautiful handwriting. Though he was pretty sure every little thing she did was beautiful. There were 3-D stickers of Halloween items placed sporadically across the page but still maintained a fun holiday aesthetic.

Please join us for our Halloween Sand-Witch party. Wednesday, October 31st at 11:45 AM. Please RSVP to Miss Bee and let her know if you have any allergies.

He flipped quickly seeing a variety of hand-drawn pictures. The drawings could only be himself and Niall munching on sandwiches the following week at their party. Along with a variety of varying six-year-old signatures, and so forth.

Harry smiled, his eye catching hers. This was almost as good as asking her on a date and hearing her say yes. A handwritten invitation was a dream come true. It didn’t matter to him in the slightest that the little party was going to be spent with twenty kindergarteners and his best friend either. Because she was going to be there dressed as something adorable, he was sure, and he couldn’t wait.

“We’d love t’attend,” he told them. She smiled shyly as the little ones cheered.

“Alright, Kindergarten... it’s time we head back now that the guys are invited,” she waved to Harry. “Say see you later to Mr. Harry.”

“See you later alligator!” Someone shouted, causing the rest to giggle uncontrollably.

She shook her head and smiled fondly at her group of funny children and headed back toward the school building peering back to catch Harry’s eye again.

On Friday, she was preparing for the following week as always. It had been raining hard all day long, so Under Construction wasn’t next door. Moreover, there was no outdoor recess so there was no way she would have seen him anyway. It made her miss Harry.

It seemed a little ridiculous that she would fall so quickly for an almost total stranger. Especially when she was so cautious about falling for anyone after Evan.

She met Evan while out with friends for a birthday dinner. He said he was drawn to her, a moth to a flame, the whole bit. He told her she was pretty, lovely, sweet, etc. Evan was handsome, talented, and funny. At first, he was excessively kind. Flowers every week, asked her to move in only three months in, told her he couldn’t live without her.

He worked for a financial company. One that made him a lot of money so he could afford a big house—bigger than two people without kids conceivably needed. But it was for their future. Evan’s job required many business meetings and parties that left her feeling completely drained socially and financially. Every party required a new fancy outfit that she didn’t want to pay for. He made her go to golfing fundraisers (even though she hated golf) and helped him with parties at his place for clients and partners alike.

All while she tried to get her bearings in her first two years of teaching.

Evan never attended a school event. He didn’t help her move her furniture in her classroom. He didn’t understand why she would go to work on days she wasn’t getting paid to set things up. He didn’t get that the magic inside a classroom happened outside of school hours, and it was well worth the time she put into it. There was no help from him putting bulletin boards together and he certainly wouldn’t be caught dead on her colorful carpet laminating on a Tuesday afternoon.

She finished her planning and clicked into another tab on her computer to look at the to-do lists that never seemed to get any shorter. She had a section for classroom improvements, stain her bookshelves, inquire about fixing the outlets, find more shelving, paint her rocking chair, and more. There was so much.

After their breakup—the one instigated by Evan because she was spending too much time at school—she moved into a tiny little house on her own. It was no more than a one-bedroom apartment. Just enough space for herself and she loved it, but it also needed so much work. There was the roof that leaked in the rain in the same spot, one of the stove burners didn’t work, one of the windows in the living room was so stiff shut she couldn’t move it. Her bedroom seemed poorly insulated and was freezing in the winter, the tile flooring in her bathroom was cracked in several places. But it was home. The cutest little place she had ever seen. The living room was filled with books, and the dining table was a spot for her tutoring sessions.

The kitchen always smelled like cookies or brownies. Things that she brought to her parent’s house on Wednesday evenings when she, her siblings, and anyone available in her family gathered for a meal together. Her sister’s fiancée begged for muffins at least once a month and she smirked at the thought.

There wasn’t enough time and there wasn’t enough energy she could muster to fix her place up. There were more pressing matters. Trying to eat well, exercise, get her master’s degree. Visiting her parents and helping her sister with her wedding. It was exhausting.

She was jolted from her thoughts by a knock on her outside door. She put a hand on her heart, not anticipating a knock as it was downpouring. It was four-thirty in the afternoon on a Friday. All her co-workers hightailed it out of there shortly after the buses had left. Slowly, cautiously, she walked over to the door seeing Harry smiling in the small window. He had a black raincoat on, the hood keeping his pretty face from getting wet.

Immediately she opened the door. “Hi, Miss Bee,” he greeted so brightly she thought she might melt. He was so happy to see her it made her stomach twist. “I was hoping you’d be gone, but s’nice t’see you anyway,” he said stepping inside.

She bit the inside of her lip. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, s’Friday,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Sorry ‘bout m’coat,” he frowned as it dripped on the floor. “S’raining cats and dogs out there,” he shrugged out of the coat and snapped it outside, a tiny little overhang keeping it the smallest bit dry. He slung it on the back of an upturned chair on one of her tables, so it dripped below to the floor. He frowned and headed toward the bathroom for paper towels. “I’ll take care of this before we leave,” he promised placing a bunch of towels below the dripping coat.

She stared at him. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

He turned slightly, smiling up at her while he knelt next to his watery mess. “S’Friday, wanted t’see what y’needed help with for next week.”

She blinked. “But... you didn’t work today.”

“As a matter of fact, I did work. I had a meeting about our progress and talked to suppliers about materials and such,” he said proudly, the dimples indenting his cheeks.

“Oh... I meant... outside,” she shook her head. “I didn’t mean to imply—”

He chuckled quietly as she tried to back track. “S’fine, Bird. I knew what y’meant. Don’t worry ‘bout it. No, ‘course with the rain it puts us back a day or two, so I had t’be productive in other ways.”

There was something wrong with her, because that was one of the hottest sentences she had ever heard anyone say and he was merely talking about productivity.

“Um...” she swallowed. “I don’t need... you didn’t... you came all the way here?”

“S’not too far from m’place actually,” he said with a shrug. He headed toward her desk to see her little piles of what needed to be accomplished. He hoped to find something labeled Monday, or maybe something that needed to be cut or stapled together. Instead, he found her to-do list opened on her computer. “What’s this?” He asked, glancing at her screen.

“Oh... don’t look at that, they’re... they’re nothing. Just... they’re my to-do—”

“Your roof leaks?” He asked looking up at her in shock. He also looked completely hurt. Like it was unimaginable that she kept that from him. “Bird, why didn’t you say something? I would have—”

“Stop,” she put her hand on her chest feeling it ache with want for him. Adoration for him. Something that felt dangerously close to the feelings she had when she first started dating Evan and he brought her flowers every week. “Harry,” she said softly. “I am so appreciative of you coming down here and helping me, but you don’t have to. It’s likely I can’t reciprocate or—”

His eyes dropped to her computer again scanning the list, ignoring her and wondering what else she needed done. “Bird, you’re cold?” He asked. She felt like she was in trouble. Her throat tightening over the emotion she felt. It was a long day—but all of them were long. Her weeks felt endless. And she was cold. So lonely in that cold, damp, tiny place she lived no matter how much she loved it. “Kitten,” he whispered quietly.

“Stop,” she begged. “Please stop.”

“Bird,” he frowned. “Y’should have said something. I can bring Niall t’look at it, we can fix it up in a minute—”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Harry, I’m begging; please stop.”

“No,” he shook his head. “Y’would never let one of your students have a problem like this,” he turned from her computer, strode across the room to her, and put a hand on her hip while pulling her toward him. She looked away from him, ignored the sparks that burst from the touch on her waist. She shook her head.

“It’s not important.”

He gently touched her cheek turning her gaze back to him. His finger resting beneath her chin. “You’re not important?” He questioned. “Y’know how ridiculous y’sound, right? I’ve known you less than a month and I think y’might be the most important person I know.”

She swallowed and shrugged. “There’s more pressing matters,” she whispered. “I have this classroom to worry about and little minds to mold. My sister’s getting married, and my mom needs—”

“All that is more pressing than y’not catching a cold?”

“I-I... I’m not going to... I don’t—”

He rubbed his thumb across her lip making all of the words in her head disappear. “Bird, you’re going t’make yourself sick.”

Was this what it was supposed to feel like? In all the time she dated Evan, there wasn’t much worry about her. It was usually a worry about what she wasn’t doing or couldn’t do because she was busy. There was never a worry about stretching herself too thin or making her do more because he wanted her to be part of his stuff.

One lone tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head immediately, moving his hand from her face in hopes he wouldn’t notice. But of course, he did. “Hey,” he whispered gently. “Bird, my love,” his voice was so soft it made her feel warm again. “Hey,” he cooed, “C’mere,” he tucked her to his chest, kissed the top of her head like it was an everyday occurrence. Like it wasn’t the first time his lips touched her. “It’s okay,” he hummed. God, he was so warm. Is this what it was supposed to feel like? Was this how she was supposed to feel when someone cared about her and all the little things she neglected to speak into existence?

She sniffled, wiping at her face while Harry calmly soothed her. His hand rubbed up and down her back. The last time she remembered someone soothing her like this had to be when she was a child and her dad was trying to comfort her over a broken toy or missing her mum on a work trip.

“Sorry,” she sniveled. “I think I’m just really overwhelmed.”

“I’ll say,” he agreed.

She rolled her lips into her mouth and pulled away from him even though it was a hundred times colder than her bedroom ever could be outside the circle of his arms. “Sometimes I just need to cry and be dramatic,” she admitted and wiped her eyes.

Harry was looking at her like she was going to have a breakdown at any moment. He wanted to wrap her back up in his arms but part of him was a afraid he might not ever let her go. “I don’t think y’being dramatic, kitten,” his voice was still very soft. Like he was worried he’d set her off somehow. “Think y’might jus’ be a little too not dramatic, actually.”

She took a deep breath. “My house is fine, really. It’s not a big leak. It’s only when it rains,” as if to make matters worse it thundered loudly outside. She winced while Harry just stared at her.

“This ex of yours, was he handy at all?” He asked and moved to the table where piles were made, and he finally found something labeled Monday. He grabbed a pair of scissors and started cutting the paper; sitting on the floor like he did on Tuesday. Like it was no big deal that he came out in the middle of a thunderstorm to help her on a day he didn’t work next door.

“No,” she shook her head. “He just hired people.”

But she left out telling him about only hiring when it was convenient for him. “Hmm.”

“I actually know a lot about fixing things up,” she admitted. “Not nearly to the degree that you do. I need a lot of YouTube videos and time I sincerely do not have to execute it, but I installed our dishwasher on my own. And I pulled up some carpet and put some flooring down in our dining room.

She swore Harry was smiling proudly at her. Like he had taught her or something. “S’very lovely, kitten. S’good t’know how t’do those kinds of things... but I wouldn’t have let y’lift a finger t’do it.” It was like he sucked all the air out of her body and for a moment she really felt frozen. Harry continued cutting paper and pretending like he hadn’t just rendered her lungs useless. “We still on for Sunday afternoon?” He asked.

She nodded. “You’re still going to come to the party on Wednesday even if it’s the worst date of your life?” She asked. “I will have a really hard time explaining it to the kids if you don’t.”

He chuckled. “M’certain it’ll be the best date of m’life, but yes. I’ll be there Wednesday,” he assured her.

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered and sat beside him.

Harry wasn’t dressed in his typical construction gear. Instead, he wore jeans, a pair of sneakers, and a cozy sweatshirt. He smiled at her. “Course, Bird.”

The thunder was loud. Practically, shaking the small frame of her house. Sighing, she looked up at the ceiling unable to see anything in the dark until the lightning illuminated her room. Her phone said it was only after one in the morning. Much too early or late to do anything but try and fall back asleep.

Sighing again, she got out of bed and headed to her bathroom before making a stop in the kitchen for a glass of water. As soon as she stepped in the kitchen, her foot was met with a puddle.

Her heart pounded. “No, no, no, fuck,” she hissed and smacked the light switch on the wall. She put a hand to her mouth as the leak was now a definitive hole in the middle of her ceiling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” She hurried back to the bedroom grabbing her phone and dialing Louis as quickly as she could. As she listened to it ring longer than she wanted to (but couldn’t blame Louis for not answering so early in the morning), she grabbed pots and pans out of her cabinets catching as much rain as she could.

“’Lo?” he yawned. Exhausted, clearly. It was one in the morning. The poor thing probably didn’t want to get out of bed in the pouring rain, but she didn’t know what else to do... she didn’t have a choice.

“Louis, I,” she gasped. “I need help, please!”

“What’s wrong?” He asked quickly. “El, baby,” he hummed off to the side of his phone. “Get your coat,” he mumbled.

“What’s happening?” She moaned.

“Shh,” he hushed. “What’s wrong, love?” He asked. “Are you alright?”

“My ceiling!”

“Ah fuck,” he grumbled. Louis immediately knew what the issue was. “I should have—”

“Louis, I don’t have time for I-Told-You-Sos. Hurry up!” She begged and watched as another chunk of her ceiling fell to the floor. It wasn’t a huge hole, but if she hadn’t gotten up it was going to cave in her ceiling for sure by morning.

“Alright, alright, we’re on the way.”

Harry was dreaming. The pretty kindergarten teacher was in his house, drinking tea, and relaxing. It was adorable. Her smile was so sweet. No evidence of sadness or exhaustion on her face. He wanted to die seeing her upset that afternoon. But there was only so much he could do.

But she wasn’t upset right then. His dream made her giggly, like when her students made her laugh. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, it brought out the warmth in her. It wasn’t short, of course, but she wore leggings beneath it and she looked so cozy. “Hi Miss Bee,” he chuckled approaching her. “Did you have a good day?”

“Mhmm... come here,” she patted the sofa beside her. “I missed you.”

It was music to his ears.

“Missed you t—”

His phone nearly sent him into an early grave waking him from the dead of sleep. He slapped his hand out and smacked it off the nightstand. “Shit,” he whispered grabbing it. It was an unknown number and normally he’d ignore it, but he had never gotten a call in the middle of the night. “Hello?”

“Oh thank God,” Eleanor sighed. “Harry, I’m so sorry to bother you. Her ceiling. It’s got a hole in it and she’s freaking out and it’s raining so bad, and we have no idea what to do, can you help us?”

He knew he should have checked it out.

“Yeah, yeah, course, jus’ send me the address.”

“I already did,” Harry put the phone on speaker and checked the message while he rifled through his drawer for clothes to wear in the rain. He felt his heart skip a beat to know she was only a five-minute drive away.

“M’five minutes away once I get m’shoes on.”

“You’ll beat us there, thank you, so, so much.”

Harry called Niall immediately. “I was sleeping,” he groaned.

“M’sending you an address. Miss Bee’s got a roof situation.”

“Shit, in this weather?”

“I’ll be there in five. Bring anything y’can think of.”

The rain was not letting up. The thunder and lightning only added to the shitty night she was having. She ran from her house to the small shed in the back corner of her yard to find something useful. Louis would be a few minutes, and she really didn’t want to wait a second longer than she needed to.

With a small flashlight between her teeth, she found the ladder that would be large enough to get her on her roof. She awkwardly held it as she walked back toward the house, propping it against the side.

Her raincoat wasn’t doing anything. It was going to feel downright tropical in her room when she got back inside. Everything was so terrible right then, she just wanted to cry, and she couldn’t because there wasn’t even time to have a meltdown. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered to herself entering the shed once more. She found a tarp. She hadn’t a clue how she would get it to stay down but it was something. It’s not like she had time to find a YouTube video on it either.

In addition to the tarp, she grabbed a hammer, tucked it into the waistband of her pants. Then she snagged a box of nails and put them in her coat pocket before she made her way back to her leaky house. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she whispered.

She climbed the ladder, it was slippery and terrified her, but what choice did she have. She had a flashlight between her teeth and the tarp under her arm. This was a horrible idea, but it was one in the morning and nothing made more sense than this.

The thunder was so loud, and the only light came from a streetlamp just a little too far away from her house to be useful. She slowly climbed onto the roof and felt her heart hammering hard against her chest. She took a deep breath through her nose and climbed further onto the roof. It was slippery, wet, and cold. Her fingers felt frozen as she moved her way up toward where the leak was. She unfolded the tarp and placed it so it would flip over toward the front of her house and the rain would slide over the hole and nothing would get under it. It was a little relieving to have a plan, but it was very short-lived.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

The sound of someone else shouting at her brought her practically to a stop; she dropped the flashlight and lost her footing. She grabbed at the tarp, the shingles, anything to stop her from sliding off her house and into the yard. “Shit!” She barely had time to scream while she clawed for something to get a purchase. Her roof wasn’t particularly tall (she wasn’t living in a mansion by any stretch), but she imagined a ten-foot fall in the rain would probably result in a broken bone or two. In her slide, the hammer dug into her hip, certainly it was going to leave a bruise. She was lucky the nails were in the box, or she suspected she’d have an ER trip this early morning as well as a roof to repair.

Fortunately, her hands snagged onto the gutter before she made her final descent to the ground. The metal clanging and moaning as it pulled from the house with her dead weight hanging onto it. It hurt her fingers, her left middle finger definitely felt like it was cut on some part of the metal lip she clung to. “Let go,” the voice ordered from behind her.

She gasped. Tried to turn and look at who was bossing her around in the middle of the night. “I—”

“Bird, let go of your fucking house, now.”

Her heart managed to flutter once it recognized Harry’s voice. Just his voice made her feel safe and she felt infinitely better about her situation. It was a painful realization because Harry didn’t need this. From here it was only a five to six foot drop and less likely to hurt her, but she was still exhausted, tired, and certain with her luck she’d land on a rock and break an ankle.

So, despite all instinct, she released the gutter with nothing else but hope she wouldn’t hurt herself upon her landing in her yard.

Instead, she fell into his arms. Harry caught her, cradling her briefly and absorbing the impact of her fall by bending slightly while catching her. Before she had a mere second to be in his arms and think it through, he placed her on her feet with ease.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” He snapped. “Are you insane?” His anger didn’t match his gentle touch as he cupped her face. His hands then dropped to her arms and moved further south to her waist and hips as he scanned her for injury. It was still near pitch dark if it weren’t for the headlight he had on his forehead. The light scanned her like a laser as she gaped at his presence. “Are you okay, bird?” His voice was softer this time.

“How... how did you...?” She stared at him in disbelief that he was really truly there.

“Eleanor called me,” he stated. “What were y’doing on a roof in the rain by yourself?” He asked, his voice turning harsh again. She had never heard him sound anything but kind and sweet. The anger was almost terrifying.

“I-I, my roof—”

“You scared me t’death,” he yanked her to him, her face pressing to his chest. She swore she could feel his heartbeat through his clothes, over the sound of the pouring rain and the thunder in the distance. “Jesus, bird,” he grumbled, squeezing her tight. “I should have looked at it this afternoon, m’so sorry,” he murmured. “So, so sorry,” he repeated quietly. “Niall’s almost here, we’re gonna fix it up. Jus’... go inside and stay warm, please,” he pleaded pulling away from her, keeping a hand on her face for a moment as he scanned her once more.

“But—”

“Jus’ go inside, bird. S’fine. I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked, rain water was streaming over her face as she tried to figure out what to do next. Wincing, she pulled the hammer from her waistband as it skimmed the sensitive bruise that was definitely forming as she stood there. Then she took the box of nails from her pocket. “Not sure if these are useful,” she offered quietly.

His eyes looked so sad, so displeased. She wanted to cry. “Resourceful,” he murmured.

She nodded silently. “I’m... I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Go inside, bird, please.”

As she turned away toward her door, Niall was suddenly there. A matching headlight to Harry’s also on his forehead. “Hey Miss Bee,” Niall smirked as if this was normal to meet up with her in her backyard at one in the morning. “Having fun?”

“Loads,” Harry deadpanned. She felt flushed as she didn’t answer Niall. He winked at her and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Go inside, love. Please.”

She bit the inside of her lip and headed in. She dumped the filled pots and pans into her sink, and she grabbed towels from the linen closet. Everyone and everything was going to be soaked.

“Good morning, sunshine! Fancied a bath in the kitchen, did you?” Eleanor chirped cheerfully as she entered. Like it wasn’t one in the morning, and her house wasn’t falling apart. But her smile quickly morphed into a frown at the sight of her wet friend dripping, cold, and so completely defeated in the eyes. “Aw, sweetie,” she whispered.

A lone sob escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth, except she forgot about the cut on her finger. She winced at the slight pain and sting. “Goddammit!” She snapped and dropped her head to her other hand and cried.

Eleanor made her way to her, gently tugging her coat off her body. “It’s alright,” she promised. “You’re okay, babe,” she reminded her. “It’s just a little hole... Harry and Niall will take care of it,” she brushed her hand over her hair soothingly.

She sniffled. “Today was not a good day,” she whispered.

“Well, technically it’s tomorrow, and I imagine at one in the morning, it can only go up from here,” she said positively. She snorted and shook her head.

“Don’t make me laugh.”

Eleanor smiled. Above them she could hear the muffled sounds of Niall and Harry working together to repair her roof in the rain. The thunder and lightning didn’t change pace. “You clean up your hand, I’ll take care of the kitchen,” she said softly. “Go change, clean up, and brush your hair. He may be in love with you, but you would kill me if he saw you with your wet, rainy bed head,” she teased.

She snorted again and even though she didn’t want to trouble Eleanor, she listened and headed to the bathroom.

Louis wasn’t as helpful as Niall and Harry, but he was able to hold an additional flashlight and hand items to them as needed. Once the tarp was in place (with an added piece of rubber over top of it that Niall had brought from home) Louis helped clean up their tools and materials. He brought the ladder back to her shed while their belongings went back to their cars. Once everything was cleaned up and they were confident her roof wouldn’t leak for the remainder of the night, Louis guided them inside the small house of his best friend.

“Thanks boys,” Eleanor smiled happily in the kitchen. She was by the sink drying off pots and pans that she clearly washed.

But Harry was scanning for the pretty kindergarten teacher, clearly. Eleanor glanced down the hall suspiciously and Harry followed her gaze. “You okay in there, babe? The guys are inside, now!”

“Just trying to get my band aid to stay,” she called back.

“Niall, can we get you some tea?” Louis asked while Harry moved toward the sound of her voice. He knocked quietly on the only closed door in the little hall assuming it must be her bathroom.

“Bird?”

There was a quiet sigh from inside. “Crap,” he heard her whisper. But then the door opened.

God, she was pretty. Even sad. Even a little banged up, wet, and tired, she was gorgeous, really. Harry was in awe of her.

“Can you—” she sighed heavily. The cut wasn’t just to her middle finger as she thought but across her index and ring fingers too. Harry gently pushed inside the bathroom, holding her shoulders and guiding her to on the closed toilet lid as he looked at the array of band aid wrappers that had fluttered to the floor. He pulled the head lamp off and shrugged out of his wet coat just like he had less than twelve hours ago in her classroom, he hung it on the back of the bathroom door hook where her towel usually hung.

Silently he bandaged her up, pausing only slightly when she winced in pain from the antibacterial spray he put on her cut. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Y’have nothing t’apologize for,” he murmured. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s alright, you were scared. I would have done the same thing. I was scared too.”

He completed the bandages on her hand. Carefully, he cupped the side of her face, his thumb brushing on her cheek as he gently tilted her gaze up to meet him. “Don’t ever do something dangerous like that again,” his voice was very quiet, but none less serious.

“Okay,” she whispered.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you, so much. Really.”

“Course, bird. Told you. M’at your service,” he reminded her. She smiled shyly, and Harry was almost certain he didn’t imagine the way she leant into his palm that cupped her very pretty face. For a moment it wasn’t one in the morning, her roof wasn’t a mess, and Harry was only there because he wanted to be, not because he had to be.

“You can stay here,” she said to Louis and Eleanor as she walked into the kitchen. “It’s late.”

“Already pulled the sofa out and got sheets,” Eleanor said with a yawn. She walked away from the sink and made herself comfy on the sofa. Louis chuckled and headed after her.

“Good night, everyone. Thanks for helping Miss Kindergarten.”

“You guys are welcome to stay as well, I have a couple air mattresses,” she offered to Niall and Harry.

“In the morning, she’ll make muffins,” Louis called out quietly.

Niall yawned but shook his head. “M’good to head home, Miss Bee. Thank you though. If there’s a problem again, call Harry and we’ll come over again. We’re going to fix it tomorrow when the rain lets up, yeah?”

She nodded. There was no use arguing. At least not right now. “Thank you,” she sighed. “Text Harry when you get home,” she said sweetly as he exited, the door closing quietly.

Harry grinned while he sipped on a cup of warm tea. That was very sweet of her wanting to know about Niall’s safety. She turned back to Harry. “I can set up an air mattress. I’d rather stay in case something happens to the tarp,” he offered.

“Jesus, just sleep in her bed, you’re both grown adults,” Eleanor groaned.

Her face turned the color of the pants he liked most on her—the ones she wore the day they met. He smiled softly, shook his head as he sipped his tea again so he wouldn’t let on how much he liked that idea.

“El, shh,” Louis whispered. “That was an inside thought. Go to sleep,” he mumbled.

Harry couldn’t help but show his smile and he looked at her almost apologetically on Eleanor’s behalf. “Air mattress?”

“Babe, it’s so loud,” Eleanor whined.

“Shut. Up,” she hissed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offered with a chuckle.

“Absolutely not,” she whispered and grabbed his hand. She tugged him down the hall to her bedroom. She flicked the light on and Harry inspected the little room with awe. A closet opposite the wall of three windows with gray colored curtains with an intricate lace design. Her bed resided in the middle of the wall with a fluffy green comforter that looked warm and cozy. Beside it was a nightstand, filled with books, a water cup, and her phone. There was a plush gray carpet that extended beyond her bed frame and into most of the room taking up 80% of the floor.

Her dresser looked old, reminded him of her desk and shelving in her classroom. There was a mirror propped up behind it or on it, he couldn’t be sure. Pictures surrounded the frame of it and on the surface was a beautiful, almost antique jewelry box.

None of her furniture matched. He figured it was subject to her yard sale ways as well. “I like your room,” he said.

She sighed. “A work in progress.”

He smiled. “Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

He frowned instantly. “Bird,” he sighed and brought his hand to the side of her neck. He brushed his thumb on her cheek again. “Everything’s okay.”

“I’m just... not having a good day,” she whispered looking away from him. “I’m sorry. I feel so bad for bothering you this late and my room is freezing cold, and you should just go so you don’t get sick from the rain and this icebox,” but Harry couldn’t help but notice she didn’t move from his touch.

A sad smile graced his lips and eyes. He was so handsome it made her stomach do back flips. “Jus’ lay down, bird,” he said softly.

“Harry, it’s freezing—”

“Get in the bed, love,” he was a little firmer, but no less soft in his approach. He gently nudged her forward. Poor thing must have been exhausted because she willingly let him tuck her in, rubbing her arms gently for friction and warmth.

Turning back to the doorway, he clicked the light off bathing them in darkness. Silently he stripped out of his wet clothes. “M’jus’ gonna get between the sheet and the comforter,” he assured her. “No funny business, bird. Need a proper date,” he teased.

She snorted and turned on her side away from him. Maybe her room was cold. But it was very warm beside her in bed. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course,” he murmured toward her frame still faced away from him. He smiled at the shadow of her that he could only vaguely make out when the lightning peeped through the space in her curtains between windows. “Anything for you Miss Bird.”

When she woke up, she was sweating.

Harry was snuggled behind her, his arm draped across her body, the sheet the only barrier between her and him. He was still asleep, at least she was pretty sure. His breathing made it seem that way. He felt warm and good, even if she was sweating. “Mm,” he hummed and tightened his grip on her. She smiled softly to herself and let him hold her for a minute. It was perhaps too hot, too cozy, and definitely not what she should have done. But it was nice and safe. Harry made her feel incredibly safe.

After a few minutes of blissful resting, she carefully lifted his arm off her and snuck out of bed. He didn’t stir too much other than gripping her pillow and holding it close. She looked away before she climbed in beside him again. She tiptoed across the room to her dresser, pulling the bottom drawer open slowly so it didn’t make noise from getting stuck on the uneven swells of old wood. She found a pair of sweatpants that she bought at least two sizes too large that would fit Harry’s frame along with a sweatshirt she got back in college from a friend’s ex-boyfriend. She left the clothes on the bed beside her sleeping partner peacefully dreaming and drooling onto her pillow.

She grinned to herself and made her way to the door, stopping at his pile of wet clothes trying her best to avoid the parts of her old floor that creaked with her weight. She quickly opened and closed her door without letting it squeak or whine—so Harry could sleep in peace.

She turned to the washer and dryer in the small closet beside her bathroom, tossing his clothes inside the dryer. Next, she headed to the kitchen. Louis was sitting up on the sofa, Eleanor snuggled into his lap. He was scrolling on his phone and combing his fingers through her hair. She smiled fondly at her best friend and gave a silent wave.

“She’s awake, you can talk,” he said quietly.

“Mm, debatable,” El grumbled.

She smirked and headed outside barefoot. It wasn’t as cold as it was last night, and the sun was starting to appear. She stepped further back in the yard to get a whole picture view of her roof. Crossing her arms at her stomach she sighed. Louis joined her (wearing shoes, however) he faced the house with her and he draped an arm around her shoulders.

“Harry said you almost fell off the roof. You got up there yourself?”

“I knew you were on the way,” she mumbled. But her gutter looked a little misshapen from her fall. Something else that would need to be fixed in addition to her tarped roof. “I figured I’d get a head start.”

“If I found you knocked unconscious in your garden, I would have lost my mind,” Louis stated.

“It needed to be done—”

“Irrelevant,” he shook his head and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t do that again.”

“Harry already gave me this lecture.”

“Good.”

She sighed. “I should just sell it and rent an apartment,” she mumbled. “I don’t have the time or energy to fix it up. It’ll be a loss, but—”

“You love this place,” Louis reminded her.

“I do, but at what cost? You were right, I should have fixed the leak when I first noticed it.”

“How did that taste in your mouth? Saying I’m right?” He smirked and gave her a squeeze.

“Like vinegar.... meanie,” she grumbled.

“This is your house. You can do whatever you want with it. If you want to sell it, you know I’ll help you. But you don’t have to. I’m sure there’s someone that would love to help you fix it up,” he grinned. As if on cue, Harry appeared in her backyard, rubbing his eye. “Good morning, Harry, how did you sleep?”

“Like a rock,” he murmured. He was wearing the outfit she selected for him, and she felt her heart skip. He followed her and Louis into the yard, the laces of his work boots untied. “No shoes?” He asked, glancing at her feet.

“I’m only going to be out here a second,” she assured him.

“She’s not really a shoe person,” Louis told him. “She’s a summer girl because of work,” he explained.

“I could see that,” he smirked and looked at her house. “Looks like the tarp held,” he put his hands into the pockets as he assessed the damage the same as her.

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

“I’m going to get El a little more mobile so she can help you with the muffins,” Louis offered. “We can go for a coffee run too,” he pulled away from her with another kiss to the top of her head. “Harry, tea? Coffee?”

“Tea, please,” he nodded.

Harry stood beside her, their arms brushing as she looked her house over. “That was stupid of me,” she said quietly. “Going up there alone in the dark.”

“Not stupid. Y’were jus’ trying t’fix it.”

She sighed. “When will Niall be here?”

“Soon as he stops t’get me more clothes,” he smirked.

“I’m sorry. This is an awful way to spend a Saturday. I can find someone—”

“Bird, jus’ let me do it,” he chuckled. “M’begging you.”

“You’re sure, it’s not a bother?”

“Course not,” he promised.

“I don’t know how, but I’ll make it up to you.”

He grinned. “C’mon, let’s get you inside before y’lose a toe.”

The roof was repaired in a few hours. She could hear Niall and Harry laughing while she let her muffins bake. Eleanor and Louis helped her clean up a little more and eventually the pair came down from the roof. “All set, Miss Bee,” Niall grinned.

“Thank you,” she sighed. “Thank you so much, here let me—” She attempted to hand Niall money, but he put his hands up in front of him like she was trying to stab him with a knife.

“Absolutely not. It’s on the house.”

“Literally,” Louis chuckled.

“Boo...” El rolled her eyes.

She looked at Harry nervously. “Don’t even think ‘bout it, bird,” he warned.

Pouting, she put the money back in her purse and then held out the plate of muffins that had finished onto the counter. “Here,” she offered. “The blueberry white chocolate chip ones are the best.”

“Don’t be mean to my cranberry walnut,” Eleanor said protectively.

She smiled. “Chocolate chip is by far superior, my love,” Louis said knowingly, and they took their muffins to the sofa bed.

Niall snagged one of each, with an impish smile and followed her friends. Harry stood opposite her at the counter. “We still on for tomorrow?”

“You still want to see me? After this whole catastrophe of a week?”

He nodded, picking the baking cup off his muffin with a smile. “God, yeah.”

“You might be a little crazy.”

“M’definitely a little crazy ‘bout you, bird.”

“That will be seven days in a row of seeing me.”

“A perfect week, in m’opinion,” he ripped a piece of the top of the muffin off and popped it into his mouth. “Mm,” he sighed. “Blueberry is definitely m’favorite,” he smiled.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” She asked.

He grinned. “I thought y’might want t’stick to something simple. Jus’ lunch. We can walk around the park if it’s nice out,” he offered. “But s’also Sunday so m’sure y’want some time t’rest, so I won’t keep you out forever.” That sounded highly unfair. Part of her didn’t want Harry to leave and she felt so ridiculous about saying it. Or maybe it was because he was so warm in her freezing cold room. “Lunch for sure.”

“Is it a fancy place? I just want to know what I should wear.”

“Not particularly,” he shook his head. “You can wear whatever you want,” he promised. “M’sure you’ll look stunning.”

Her face warmed with the compliment wondering for the millionth time why Harry would want to put her kindergarten chaos in his life. “M’with Eleanor, cranberry walnut is the winner,” Niall said around a mouthful of his breakfast treat.

“Told you!”

“Fine by me, I don’t have to share,” Louis said with a shrug.

Harry chuckled, gave her a wink, and headed to join the little group in her living room. Like he wasn’t stealing her heart and soul at all.

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so-i-did-this-thing · 2 days ago

Note

hi nick! my cat zelda has recently started knocking her dry food out of her bowl with her paw and then eating it off the floor. i am baffled by this behavior but i want to support and enrich her however i can. is there a puzzle mat (sorry not sure if i remember the name right) you would recommend? i feel like i remember you posting something abt one but the socmed search functions are not doing much for me 😅 anyway hope youre having a good one!

Heya, sorry this took a hot second. These are the kitties' favorite activity boards, which occupy my guys for around 30 min:

https://www.chewy.com/catit-senses-20-cat-digger-slow/dp/218187

I feel like your kitty would like this one the best. A way to increase the challenge is to load food in the cups, then drop in toys like jingle bells or crinkle balls on top, so they have to fish those out, fist.

This one is great for a clever cat, though the dial can be tricky for some to move.

https://www.chewy.com/trixie-activity-fun-board-5-in-1/dp/134673

I like to load the cubbies on this one with wet food. The bowls are hard for cats with big paws.

Make sure you put the lid on the right way for this one.

https://www.chewy.com/doc-phoebes-cat-co-indoor-hunting-cat/dp/179102

These mice are also great, though they don't hold a lot of food.

https://www.chewy.com/frisco-non-skid-square-silicone-dog/dp/389621

And if you wet feed a lot, consider a licky mat.

#cat

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81pastrys · 8 hours ago

Text

Unplanned

Part 1 / 5

Summary— The Good Girl gets dragged out for a night of fun that turns more unexpected than she anticipated

Warnings— smut ; flirting ; belly bulge ; size kink ; post-orgasm regrets ; no aftercare (I’m sorry) ; bad translations ; a promise it gets better

A/N— hope it’s enjoyable enough 🙂‍↕️

Series List

Main Masterlist

“It’s one night, what’s the worst that can happen?” She gave her best friend a scowl, she could list a million worsts that can happen.

“Why can’t you just let me read in peace?” She asked. Her friends were insisting she go out with them. She was not the kind to go out and party, especially when she just got to the good part of the romance in the book she’s reading.

“You literally never go out and always have your face stuffed in a book, come on!” Her other friend whined. They all stared until she got up with a groan and an urge to punch them.

She put on a black lace bra with a mesh shirt overtop and sparkly short shorts over sheer tights, the most scandalous she’s ever looked. “No, I can’t. I look like a slut!”

“Um no you do not, I want a piece of that I’m not even into you like that.” One of the other girls scoffed. It took a bit more convincing before they were ready to head out.

“It’s Monaco for fucks sake, enjoy yourself for once.” Her friends agreed that she was too engrossed in being indoors the entire trip. She was just upset the sound of race cars were buzzing the entire day and interrupting her quiet reading time.

“That stupid race was keeping me from reading and when I finally- finally get some quiet to read, you three pull me from it to what? Go clubbing?” She had attitude, which was valid considering the circumstances— well it was valid to her at least.

“Formula one is not stupid babe, you’re just boring enough not to care.” She rolled her eyes at that, it’s expensive cars and overpaid men in one industry— what’s to like about it? She just wants to get the night over, even though she dolled up nicely. She thought she looked like an overpriced hooker, but her friends said otherwise, boosting her ego in the long run to be confident enough to join them.

“I heard the drivers come to this club often after races.” Her friends wiggled her eyebrows at that. “Maybe one will swoop you away and make you not so goody two shoes.” She joked.

“Yeah right like-“ Some guy bumped into her and scoffed as she turned from the force of his strength.

“Mierda, sorry. Did I hurt you cariño?” He said wearing a sarcastic smile. She gave him a dirty look and he chuckled, her friends not noticing her absence as they walk off from the table to dance.

“Would’ve been nice if you just apologized.” She snapped at him. He smiled and licked his top teeth. A challenge in his mind she supposes. She crosses her arms, unconsciously pushing her boobs up in the bra.

“Well, I can’t just apologize to a pretty woman like you.” He said. “What if I buy you a drink to make up for it? Hm?” Whatever the fuck accent he had was getting to her and not in a bad way.

“It would help.” She said casting a small smile at the man. Taller and more buff now that she’s admiring. He’s tan too, she guesses that must be genetics as is his accent that’s sickening.

“What would you like then, cariño?” That stupid nickname, can’t he just ask her name? She gives him a drink order and he returns with the fruity cocktail she chose. “I’m Carlos, by the way. I am sorry for bumping into you so aggressively, I meant to just nudge you.”

“So it was on purpose?” She asked with an eyebrow raised. “Thank you for the drink and I suppose you’re forgiven, for now.” She teases, she’s already out and about— might as well make the most of it. If getting laid is the most of it, she isn’t so against that feat.

“Well I cannot just walk past such a pretty girl.” That confidence he carries is something else. “You don’t sound very local, I’m assuming you aren’t from here?” He tries small talk and she scoffs at his attempt.

“I could say the same for you, aren’t the locals French?” She asked. He smiled and looked down a bit. She followed his gaze with a smile, now realizing the unbuttoned white tee he was wearing.

“They’re Monegasque’s cariño, do not go around calling them French— it’s offensive.” He chuckled. Her eyes widened in fear that she offended people she’s never met. She missed the nickname he quickly snuck in the sentence— again.

“Oh, I didn’t- I’m sorry.” Her innocence is clear as day when she speaks up. “I hope I didn’t offend you.” Her sincerity and common sense flew around the room a bit, forgetting he’s definitely not speaking French.

“Cariño I’m not from here, no worries.” He smiles. “I’m from Spain, but I know a few locals who hate being called French.” He clarified. She can tell he’s holding back more Spanish.

“Sainz! Get the fuck over here!” A guy yells, blonde she notices. Definitely drunk and his friend by the way he spoke to Carlos from across the bar.

“Seems I have unfinished business over there, but can I get your number or hotel room?” He smirks and she decides why not? She gives him both. She wasn’t sharing a hotel room with the other girls anyway so there’s no harm.

The Spaniard walks off and she decides to find her gaggle of friends as well. It’s not hard when they’re throwing it back on each other.

The night ends with the girls buzzed and not even satisfied with their night, well all but her. She got a Spaniards number, one who wants to hook up nonetheless. Her friends groan and moan about how awful their night was and don’t acknowledge her silence.

“I told you so.” She said, sticking her tongue out at them in her buzzed state. She refrained from mentioning the one night stand she managed and allowed them to complain.

Once in her hotel she gets unready and washes her face, hair, does her nightly routine— before a text comes through on her phone with a chime.

“Leaving the bar now, hotel address?” Quick, easy, efficient. She sends the address and room number to seal the deal. That everything shower better come in handy.

She isn’t a newcomer to one night stands but she has a feeling this won’t just be a one night thing. What if he’s just that good? He could also be bad. She won’t know until they hook up.

She puts on loose fitting pajamas and answers the quiet knock— per her request as to not alert the girls next door to her. He walks in and pins her to the wall. She can taste the redbull vodka on his lips, hopefully the same one he was drinking when she talked to him.

“Joder, glad I didn’t let you leave without getting your number.” He smirked and she giggled. She held a joking hand to her lips. He smiled back, god she could get lost in that smile.

“Yeah? Other girls weren’t doing it for you?” She teased quietly. His hands loosely roamed her clothes, tracing her body through the thin fabric.

“Only you cariño.” He placed a strategic kiss on her exposed collarbone, the shirt falling just shy of the top of her breast. Her breath catches and she runs a hand through his hair, the soft, smooth, dark hair grounding her as he leaves a small mark on her.

“Bed, now.” She breathes out. He lets out a breathy chuckle and leads her to the bed, clothes being thrown askew on the way. Now they’re both in underwear.

“Mierda, cariño.” He cursed in his native language at her figure. She was hiding some attractive curves. He couldn’t tell from the club lighting just how fit she actually was.

Once his eyes memorized her body, he laid her on the bed. He got on top of her and kissed her again, this one more heated and intimate. She quirked a brow up and broke the kiss by pushing against his chest. “Do I have to tell you to do everything?” She teased.

He smirked at her but realized, yeah, he wasn’t making many advancements. Something snapped and he lost all of his decorum. He tore off her undergarments and touched her with purpose.

One hand sliding up the curves of her side, making her shiver. Another lightly caressing her face and neck. This wasn’t going to be a one night stand “Hmm you aren’t going anywhere else tonight.” She whispered as she jumped up to kiss him and flip them over.

His hands now planted on her hips making sure she wasn’t going anywhere. She felt his muscles tense as her cold hands traced the hard lines on his chest and abdomen. She leaned down to kiss gently on his body and he groaned. “Mierda, that mouth.” He whispered, almost incoherent.

“Yeah? You like that I’m in charge?” She teased with a smirk. His hands loosened as she slipped further down his thighs to remove his boxers. His dick springing free of its confines. He was definitely as cocky as he should be with a dick as big as he had.

Her breath hitched as she admired every line, every vein and even the very color of his tip as she slowly moved her hands closer. Her eyes bugging out her head as she nearly drools. “Speechless now huh cariño?” He chuckled.

She forgot how to even give a blow job, her mind blank as she stared at how big it was— definitely the biggest she’d ever seen or will be taking. He noticed her shocked state leaving her frozen and reached a hand out to her face as he sat up.

The reassuring touch grounding her to come back to her senses. “Cariño, still with me?” He realized she wasn’t gawking but was intimidated. “Dios Mio you’re gorgeous.” He breathed.

She swallowed hard and kissed him, hoping he would take control and be soft, gentle even. She, again, was not new to the hook up community but dear god he was massive. He got the hint and flipped them again, now feeling her up again.

One hand made its way further down and he went slow, allowing her time to flinch away if she wanted too. She didn’t. His hand explored her intimately, touching and feeling around tenderly to tease. When he found her clit she gasped at the contact.

The small, reverent circles making her stomach lurch and want more than just that. Her hands wrapped around his neck as he teased more. Her back arched into him as her hips moved impatiently and he sat back to pin her down. That must’ve turned her on, he noticed how she clenched around nothing. The muscles working on their own accord.

He smirked and continued his small circles, his finger moving lower and dipping into the wetness. Her body jerked at the touch and he smirked. “Quiet one hm?” He teased. She nodded and he pushed his finger in slowly, feeling around for the soft spot. “Voy a cambiar eso.” (I’ll change that). He added another finger, watching her face as her mouth dropped open in an aborted sigh of pleasure.

He picked up the pace, if she is quiet he wants to hear her make noises whether or not they’re voluntary. He felt her tense and squirm, small whines or pants escaping her mouth. He got her close, too close. He didn’t have the intention of edging her but here he was— lost in the thought of her being quiet that he didn’t realize. “Fucking tease.” She groaned when he took his fingers away.

“Sí cariño, wanted to hear those pretty noises.” He whispered, his voice deep and husky in her ear. Now would probably be the time to ask about condoms or lube— well a conversation that should’ve been had earlier but wasn’t. Neither of them had that thought right now, too lost in the pleasure.

She was wet and stretched enough from when he fingered her, so he lined up and her breath hitched. “Fuck” she breathed out, hesitant about how big he was. He ran a soothing hand up and down her thigh with a soft smile plastered on his face.

“I know, cariño, I’ll take care of you.” He assured her. She felt the head slip in and a bit more with it— it was not going to fit without a stretch. He slowly pushed in more, watching intently on her face— she was quiet but she showed her emotions through her face.

He got halfway in when he noticed her tense more than before. “That’s not all of it, is it?” She asked. He shook his head and didn’t move. When she relaxed at his touches and kisses, he moved again. Slowly out an inch and back in two. He repeated this until he couldn’t fit anymore.

“Dios Mio, that’s most of it.” He chuckled. She let out a garbled moan— he couldn’t even fit all of his cock into her. He repeated the shallow in and out thrusts as her body stretched around him. Tight and unforgiving as he did so. “Rápida o lenta?” (Fast or slow?) she knew enough Spanish that ‘ràpida’ meant fast so she went for the latter.

“Lenta por favor.” She giggled, butchering the pronunciation. He obliged and slowly pulled out all the way and slowly thrust back in. A whiny moan escaped her as she scrambled her hands over his body. “Oh god- fuck you’re huge.” She breathed.

He chuckled and continued the slow pace, enjoying the sounds of her pleasure. “Áspera o suave?” (Rough or gentle?) He whispered. She knew neither of these words. A strained whine came from her lips at the misunderstanding and he kissed her neck. “Tell me what you need cariño.” He demanded softly.

“Faster, and- fuck, that- whatever you just did!” She squealed. He rolled his hips to hit her g-spot and succeeded. The pace quickened and he hit that spot over and over. She was a squirming, whiny mess under him and he loved it.

“Ahh, ràpido y gentil?” (Fast and gentle) He asked with his lips quirked. She wanted to laugh but the pleasure crested when he hit that same spot again, quicker this time with the fast in and out motion of his hips against hers.

She moaned loudly as his hand found its way to her clit again, his hand sprawling across her stomach with his thumb dipping into her wet folds. The small bulge he felt was an opportunity he thought.

He pushed with his fingers and the reaction was immediate— her orgasm tearing through her as moans spilled freely from her lips. He smirked and kept the pace, position, and movements the same as before as she rode it out— quite literally the way she was moving her hips up to his.

“Holy fuck!” She squealed, forgetting about her friends next door. Her reaction caused him to forget how badly he needed to cum and he came with her. A few jerky thrusts and he was spilling cum inside her, slowing the movements with a few pants and cut off moans.

“Mierda!” He groaned. That’s not good. He forgot to pull out and she seemed too dazed to care at the moment. He moved slowly to pullout of her and let her breathing calm.

When she did calm enough, he went and grabbed a damp rag. He returned to her sobbing and turned to the side. He stood shocked at the side of the bed. Her hand clutched over her mouth and the other in between her closed legs. He didn’t want to startle her so he slowly sat on the bed beside her.

“Cariño?” He questioned. She bat a hand at him and he got off the bed. She didn’t even turn to look at him, just sobbed harder and was mumbling something.

“Get out.” She hiccuped. He scrambled to get his clothes on haphazardly to leave. The damp rag forgotten on the nightstand as he grabbed his stuff and walked out. The door clicking and automatically locking before he could rush back in.

Part 1 is here everyone!!!!

@il0vereadingstuff @angelluv16 @widow-cevans @justaf1girl @pandabiiissh @itznotsophia @kallanfiona

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celestialgallaghers · 3 days ago

Text

White Mustang: Friday [18+]

final part omg. thank you so much for all the love and support of this series it really means a lot 💖. This isn't the end btw. I have an epilogue planned, but idk when it'll be posted. I wanna get back to writing about liam for a change lol. I hope you guys like it i had so much fun with this whole series <3.

Word count: 14.5k

Friday

The next day was sweltering. The kind of heat that clung to your skin and made the air feel thick. No one really had the motivation to do much, so eventually everyone ended up by the pool, stretched out under the sun with cold drinks in hand, slipping in and out the water to cool off.

You’d gone into town with Emily and come back armed with supplies for margaritas. By midafternoon, everyone was sun kissed and half-drunk, music drifting from the small speaker Emily had hooked up. Everything felt easy.

You were sitting cross legged in a pool chair, hair still damp, sunglasses sliding down your nose, sipping a margarita that was mostly just tequila at this point. Your dad and Noel were swapping stories, talking shit and laughing like they always did. You joined in when you could, but mostly you listened.

But beneath it all, you were hyper aware of every glance Noel threw your way. Especially when you climbed out of the pool, water trailing down your skin, bikini clinging to you, and the weight of his gaze tracked you. If he was trying to hide it, he was doing a piss poor job.

You weren’t sure if he was serious about “going easy” on him. You’d been half-joking when you said it but then he’d agreed. Maybe it was just his way of telling you not to be a tease.

You hadn’t been trying to. Not really. You weren’t doing anything different than you would’ve if he wasn’t here. It wasn’t your fault he couldn’t stop looking…okay, maybe a little bit was your fault. But he didn’t have to look.

When everyone’s drinks started running low, you slipped inside, grateful for a reason to cool off. You made your way into the kitchen and busied yourself slicing limes, the citrus sticking to your fingers.

You didn’t hear him at first. Not until his arms bracketed the counter on either side of you, caging you in. Your breath caught as his chest brushed your back, solid and sun warmed.

“You look so fuckin’ fit in that little bikini,” he murmured against the shell of your ear. His voice was low, stirring something deep in your core.

“It’s quite distracting,” he added, hips pressing lightly against the swell of your ass.

Your mind tried to remember where you were, who else was just outside. But all of that went fuzzy with him this close.

“We can’t do this here,” you whispered, glancing quickly toward the sliding glass door. Technically, you were out of sight. But anyone could wander in. And he wasn’t exactly being subtle.

He didn’t budge. “That’s what I said last night,” he said, amusement curling through his voice. “Didn’t stop you then.”

Heat flared in your cheeks. He wasn’t wrong. You’d been reckless. Desperate to feel him. And lucky no one had caught you. But still…

“It’s different now,” you said, the words thin, unconvincing even to yourself. “People are awake.”

“I know.” His voice was maddeningly calm, even as his hands slid from the counter to your waist, fingers grazing bare skin. Goosebumps chased their path.

Then, gently, he turned you. And just like that, you were face to face. Trapped in the full weight of his gaze. Those eyes gleamed with something unreadable.

Was he doing this on purpose? Trying to get you to break? And he’d had the nerve to call you the tease.

“Are you trying to get me to kiss you?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, voice quiet. “Is that what this is?”

He just shrugged. Maybe he was. Maybe this was how he asked for it without the words. Or maybe he needed it just as badly as you did.

With one last glance toward the door, you gave him the smallest concession—a soft peck before you turned back around. That was all he was getting.

Or so you thought.

Before you could even exhale, his hands were on you again. Spinning you back around and pulling you into him. His mouth crashed onto yours with far more force this time..

You gasped as he hoisted you onto the counter, the cold surface biting into your thighs. You knew better. You knew someone could walk in. But your body had already decided. Every rational thought disintegrated the moment he touched you.

And he knew it too. You felt him grin against your mouth the moment you gave in. His hand slid around to the small of your back, pushing you closer as if there were any space left. But there was. Just enough that when you locked your legs around his waist and pulled him in, it knocked the breath out of him.

He faltered, just for a second. His lips broke from yours with the faintest hint of surprise before he recovered, slipping his tongue into your mouth with maddening ease.

The sudden intensity, the roughness, the heat of his mouth, it all had you immediately worked up and throbbing for him. And somewhere in the back of your mind a thought flickered.

By this time tomorrow he’ll be gone.

It only urged you to kiss him harder. Your hand slid into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. You felt the way he leaned into it and the quiet sigh he let out made your stomach flip. You’d noticed it last night. The way he responded to it. Filed it away. And now you were using it against him. The thrill of it made you bolder. You tightened your grip and gave a gentle tug.

The groan he let out was quiet but hot, going straight to your core. But then he pulled away, breath ghosting against your lips. “Thought you said you’d go easy on me.”

“Turn you on that much does it?” you teased, pulling a bit harder.

That earned you a look. He exhaled through his nose, clearly fighting back another noise, much to your dissatisfaction. But instead of answering, he stepped away entirely.

You blinked, breath still uneven. His gaze lingered on you. Flushed. Legs spread. Head tipped back against the cabinets like you’d already been wrecked by just a kiss. Maybe you had.

It was like he was memorizing it. Memorizing you. Maybe he was. Maybe he didn’t want to forget this either. You stared right back, trying to do the same.

Then, almost casually cruel, he let out a low chuckle, patted your thigh softly, and turned to walk out without another word.

You stared after him, dazed and buzzing. Your lips tingled. Your whole body tingled. And when you finally slid off the counter, your knees almost gave out.

You tried to refocus, staring at the half-sliced limes in front of you. But your hands were still shaking and your mind was nowhere near that kitchen. You nearly sliced your finger clean off.

Back outside, Noel acted like nothing had happened. If anything, he was staring more brazenly now. But you could feel the shift.

He’d done it on purpose. Wound you up and left you wanting.

You’d been doing so well too. So controlled. But now you were buzzing again, your heart beating too fast, mind fuzzy from the drink you’d downed the second you finished passing everyone else theirs.

You slipped back into the pool in silence, desperate for the cold shock of water to ease the heat. You let yourself drift, eyes closed, tuning out the murmur of voices nearby. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was still watching. You felt it. That slow burn of his gaze tracking your movements.

When you finally climbed out, you made it a point not to look at him. You toweled off slowly, letting the sun dry the rest, and made yourself your new drink. But even as you rejoined the others, you couldn’t shake the memory of his mouth. The phantom weight of his hands.

He looked entirely unbothered. Laughing at something your dad said, gesturing with his glass, legs stretched out like he hadn’t just had you pinned to the kitchen counter twenty minutes ago.

It was maddening. He was maddening.

The afternoon wore on and the heat was starting to hit everyone hard. Your dad retreated upstairs for a nap, Emily wandered off with a book, and suddenly it was just you and Noel.

You sat at the edge of the pool with your back to him, feet dangling in the water. You could hear the soft clink of ice in his glass behind you. The rustle of him shifting. And then the quiet creak of a chair.

Then came the faint splash as he settled beside you, slipping his feet into the pool too. A respectful distance away, but still close enough that you could feel the presence of him.

Your body tensed anyway. But he didn’t say anything. Not right away. For a moment, all you could hear was the gentle ripple of the water and the wind stirring the trees overhead.

“Funny how we keep ending up alone together,” Noel said eventually, his voice low, like it didn’t want to disturb the stillness.

“Funny how no one’s seemed to notice it either,” you said, still facing forward.

He gave a dry little laugh. “Nah. They’ve noticed. They just think we’ve got some sort of…special bond.”

That caught you off guard. You turned toward him, brows lifting in amusement. “Do we now?”

He met your eyes and bumped his knee lightly against yours. “’Course we do. We birthed an album together, didn’t we? Think that earns us some lifelong soul tie or summat. You owe me child support, by the way. I’ve raised it all these years on my own.”

You snorted. “So what, that makes you the mother?”

“Obviously,” he said, deadpan. “You inseminated me and ran off. Textbook absentee father behavior, by the way. Very progressive of you.”

It was so ridiculous that you laughed despite yourself. It cracked the tightness in your chest and sent something fluttering loose behind your ribs.

But then the laughter faded. Because your gaze caught on his mouth. Still curved in that lopsided grin. Lips wet from the beer he was sipping.

You wanted to kiss him again. God, you ached to. You’d been restless with it ever since he left you high and dry in the kitchen. It was reckless flirting like this out in the open where anyone could hear. But logic didn’t stand a chance.

Your eyes trailed to the bottle in his hand.

“Give us it,” you said, nodding towards it.

He followed your gaze then raised the bottle slightly. “What, this?”

You nodded, holding out your hand expectantly.

“No I don’t think I will,” he said smugly.

You leaned in to grab it, but he pulled it just out of reach, eyes gleaming as your fingers caught only air. You tried again and he stretched his arm higher, smirk deepening.

You made an annoyed sound. “Do you enjoy denying me things?”

A wicked grin spread across his face as he brought the bottle back to his lips, deliberately taking a long sip, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

You snatched it mid-sip, yanking it away with more force than intended. He choked on a laugh, a splash of beer dribbling down his chin as his head tipped back.

You turned your body away from him triumphantly and took an exaggerated swig. When he reached for it again you twisted further and drained what little was left out of spite.

Then you turned back to him slowly, victorious, and locked eyes. With pointed deliberation, you dragged your tongue along the rim of the bottle, gathering the last drops. You flicked your tongue over your lips to catch the rest, just to drive it home.

His gaze dropped and you felt it like a hand across your skin. “S’not very nice to finish a man's beer y’know.”

“It’s also not very nice to kiss someone and then walk away,” you shot back. “Leave them wanting all day.”

The tequila still hummed in your blood, leaving you loose tongued and wanton. A dangerous mix around him.

His mouth curled lazily. “You’re feisty today.”

“No,” you said plainly, tone flat and eyes steady. “I’m frustrated.”

He cocked his head, voice dropping low. “How frustrated?”

You held his gaze. “Frustrated enough that I had to lick every last drop of you off that bottle just to stop myself from sticking my tongue down your throat.”

That wiped the smirk clean off his face.

“And?” he asked, voice dark now. “Did it work? Are you satisfied?”

“Not even close.”

The air between you tightened, snapping taut with tension. His eyes dropped shamelessly to your chest, rising and falling with your uneven breath, while yours slid over the part in his shirt that exposed a tantalizing bit of skin. You felt feral with want. Feral and deeply, maddeningly denied.

You needed him again and badly. The only question now was whether his body could keep up with your hunger. You had to find out.

“I didn’t…” you hesitated, then forced the words out. “I didn’t go too hard on you last night, did I?”

His mouth curled. “So young and naive,” he murmured. “You gave it a valiant try, but no. Gonna take a hell of a lot more than that to break me.”

You knew he was teasing, but something about being called naive struck a nerve.

“Oh yeah?” You said, narrowing your eyes. “Can you even get it up again grandpa?”

He huffed out a laugh, clearly delighted. “Don’t act like you’re all high and mighty. We both know that you’d be on your knees in a heartbeat if I said the word.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“So eager to know when you can have another go.” he said, tilting his head. “Maybe I’ll just say no. Maybe I won’t let you.”

You hated the way your stomach dropped at that. And judging by the flicker in his expression, he saw it. He saw everything. His grin widened as your momentary panic gave you away.

“You wouldn’t,” you said, trying to sound dismissive.

“Try me.”

You locked eyes, refusing to blink. But the heat in his stare was unbearable. You looked away first.

“What if I don’t let you,” you said. Because it was the only thing you could think to say.

He leaned in until his breath ghosted your cheek, voice barely above a whisper. “Now we both know you love my dick too much to even try that.”

The words hit you like a slap. Heat rushed to your face. And then lower. You hated how much it turned you on. How much you liked hearing it. Hated that he knew it.

You swallowed, trying to steady yourself, but your pulse was everywhere. Loud in your ears. Your throat. Between your legs.

He saw it. Felt the shift. And his grin turned wolfish. “No you can’t get enough of it, can you?” he murmured. “You love how deep I get inside you. I can feel it, you know. Feel how weak you get. How no one’s ever touched you like I have.”

You could barely breathe. He wouldn’t physically touch you here, but that wasn’t stopping him from caressing you with his words.

“Big talk for someone who came prematurely on my face like a teenager.” It was weak and that had been entirely your fault, but it was the only collateral you had.

He raised his eyebrows, grinning wider. “Because you couldn’t help yourself,” he said smoothly. “Couldn’t keep that mouth of yours to yourself.”

“Yeah?” you shot back. “You lost it after two strokes of my tongue.”

His grin widened into something smug and sinfully charming. “Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it.”

Your breath caught. You had to get away from him. From this. Before you did something stupid. Like crawl into his lap, world be damned.

You leaned in, voice low enough for only him to hear. “I’m going to get in the shower,” you said. “You’re going to wait a respectable amount of time and then you’re going to follow me.”

He raised a brow. “Not sure you’re in the position to be making demands, love.”

But you were already on your feet, walking away.

The enclosed outdoor shower was warm and still. Steam curled up from the stone floor as you turned on the water, but you didn’t step beneath it. Instead, you lowered yourself onto the wooden bench and tried to steady your breathing.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer. The silence didn’t help. If anything it made the ache louder, pulsing through your body like a second heartbeat.

Maybe he wasn’t coming.

Your hand slid beneath your bikini bottoms before you could even think twice. Just to take the edge off, you told yourself.

The moment your fingers found that spot, relief bloomed through you. You leaned back against the wall, fingers circling, pressure growing. Your eyes fluttered shut. You were already so worked up from everything. His voice, his teasing, his refusal. Your legs fell further apart, pleasure shooting through your veins fast and sharp.

And then the door creaked.

Your eyes flew open just in time to see Noel slip inside, sans shirt. He froze, eyes locked on the spot where your hand disappeared beneath your swimsuit. His chest was rising and falling with shallow breaths, but the rest of him went still.

You didn’t stop. You met his stare, never breaking rhythm, and watched as his throat bobbed with a swallow.

“What are you doing?” he asked, low and careful.

“Taking matters into my own hands,” you said, voice breathy but confident.

The way his jaw clenched sent a fresh pulse of want through you. His eyes were heavy, tracking every movement. But he didn’t move.

So you pushed further.

You arched just enough to press deeper into your own touch, a quiet moan spilling from your lips. Then you used your free hand to tug your bikini top aside, baring one breast to the humid air. You ran your thumb across your nipple, gasping softly at the sensation.

Still nothing. Fine.

You dragged your fingers away from yourself, then reached for the tie at your hip and gave it a tug. The knot slipped loose. You mirrored the motion on the other side, teasing it undone until the fabric gave up and dropped, leaving you bare.

He still hadn’t moved. But his eyes were wild now.

You slid your fingers back through the slick between your thighs, slower this time, gathering everything you could with aching slowness. Then you raised your hand, lips parting slightly.

You didn’t put them in your mouth. Not yet. You were taunting him now and he knew it. His nostrils flare, fingers twitching at his sides. He only muttered a soft curse as he stared, transfixed. You brought your fingers closer, just enough to graze your bottom lip.

And that’s when he snapped.

In an instant, he was on you. One hand caught your wrist, the other grabbed your thigh, dragging you forward with a roughness that made your breath catch. Then his mouth closed over your fingers, sucking them in with a low moan like something inside him had finally, violently broken.

“Knew you were all talk,” you murmured smugly, right up until his mouth crashed against yours, swallowing the rest of the sentence.

It wasn’t gentle. You moaned into his mouth as he grabbed your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss and forcing the taste of yourself onto your tongue.

Then he hauled you up from the bench, your bikini bottoms falling away completely as your body followed his. He pressed you against the damp wooden wall, its cool bite a stark contrast to the heat radiating off his skin.

You grinned against his mouth, fingers sliding into his hair again, this time fisting it and yanking hard. He hissed at the sting, then bit your lip in retaliation, eyes darkening. Your hand slid down between you, cupping him through his swim shorts. You paused when you found him soft.

“You really can’t get it up, can you?” you said, half teasing, half genuinely disappointed.

“Give it time love,” he said lowly. “You’ll regret saying that later.”

The confidence in his voice sent a shockwave through you. The way he said it, not a threat but a promise, had your breath catching, heat curling low in your belly. You opened your mouth for another jab—

But then his thumb brushed over your clit, and every thought shattered.

Your head hit the wall with a soft thud, eyes fluttering shut as your hips jerked into his hand. The touch was fleeting, barely there until he slid two fingers inside you.

You gasped. But then—nothing. No movement. Just the feeling of being filled. Your eyes snapped open in confusion.

“If you’re so eager to get yourself off,” he murmured, “go on, then. Do it.”

You froze. His eyes held yours, steady and unmoving. It wasn’t a dare. It was an instruction.

So you moved. Rocked your hips forward slowly, experimentally, grinding down and dragging yourself along his still fingers. The stretch was there, but the friction was barely noticeable. His expression didn’t change, except for the faint, devilish smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He wasn’t going to help. He wanted to watch.

His fingers didn’t curl or even offer the smallest thrust. He remained completely still. You shifted your hips in frustration, trying to spark something, but only managed the faintest flicker of pleasure.

Your other hand slid down, desperate to finish what he’d started, but he caught your wrist before you got close. You gasped, staring up at him, chest rising in shaky bursts.

So you tried again. This time with the hand tangled in his hair. You dragged it down, reaching between you.

But you were barely able to touch yourself before he wrenched his fingers from you entirely and slammed your wrists back against the wall. Your chest heaved, mouth parted in a mix of disbelief and need.

He grinned and leaned in close to your face, boxing you in. “Not so fast,” he whispered against your ear.

The quiet authority in his tone ignited your entire body. You hadn’t seen this side of him before, but now that it was here it made you thrum with hunger. You were ravenous for it, wishing you’d provoked it sooner.

You squirmed beneath his grip, chasing friction again.

“Tch,” he tutted. “Are you gonna behave?”

Something defiant flickered inside you, but it was quickly drowned out by how badly you needed more. You stilled, humbled by desire.

He grinned. “Good.”

He released one wrist, sliding his fingers back between your legs slowly. The relief made you tremble. When he let go of your other wrist, your hand rose to his neck to show that you weren’t going to act out again.

“Better,” he murmured, grazing your lips with his own.

You kissed him hard, gripping him tighter, rocking your hips against his hand. But the angle of his fingers was just shy of enough. The pressure only teased, coaxing your nerves to the edge without tipping them.

“At least angle your fingers better,” you whined after several minutes.

He laughed low in his throat, a sound that vibrated against your skin. “What, like this?”

He curled them hard. Right into that spot.

Your whole body convulsed. The breath punched out of you in a high, strangled moan as pleasure sliced through your belly and down your thighs. The buildup had been so excruciatingly slow that now the sensation came sharp and bright, dizzying in its intensity.

“Yeah,” you managed, grinding down again, more urgently now.

“All you had to do was ask.”

And then his fingers were pistoning harder, curling with ruthless precision, knocking the breath right out of you. You hoped the water drowned out the loud moan you let out, shivering violently as pleasure flooded your nerves. His lips quickly returned to yours to smother any more sounds as he went deeper, swallowing your gasps.

Your body arched, the tension winding tighter and tighter, seconds from snapping. Your legs began to tremble, and your grip on his neck tightened.

“Noel,” you gasped, barely coherent. You could feel it cresting right there.

And then he stopped. Just like that.

You choked on the denial, your body seizing up with it. Your climax had been so close, and now it twisted painfully inside you, caught mid-breath with nowhere to go. Your eyes flew open and locked onto him.

“You bastard,” you choked. His fingers remained still inside you, making the ache that much worse. Your walls fluttered around them, begging for movement, desperate to be finished, anything.

“Ooh,” he tsked. “That’s not very nice is it? Considering I’ve got your orgasm literally in the palm of my hand.”

You exhaled hard through your nose, trying to rut against his fingers. Trying anything for just a fraction of pleasure. But he stepped back and withdrew his fingers completely.

A pathetic whine escaped you. Your body bucked forward from the loss. Your arms fell to your sides as the ghost of pleasure throbbed through you with nowhere to go.

When you met his eyes again, the look nearly brought you to your knees. He was enjoying this. Too much.

“Look at you,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers slowly down your inner thigh. The teasing path left goosebumps in its wake and you twitched at the contact, throat tight with a sound you refused to let out.

You glared at him, cheeks flushed. You weren’t sure if you wanted to slap him or kiss him until your lips went numb. Probably both.

“You’re cruel,” you said quietly.

He smiled at that, then gently but firmly grabbed your jaw, tilting your head back until your mouth parted. He pressed those same slick fingers against your lips, and you didn’t hesitate, letting him slide them past your tongue. He groaned low in his throat at the sight of your mouth closing around them.

“You really thought I was just gonna give in?” he murmured, pulling his fingers back. “After all that mouth earlier?”

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Then he stepped back again. Like he was done. Like he was going to leave.

You blinked, stunned. “You’re joking.”

No response.

“Fine,” you snapped, pulse thudding with rage and desperation. You slid your hand between your thighs, fingers sinking in easily, still warm and slick from him. The relief was instant, your body chasing the high it had been denied.

But you barely got into a rhythm before he spoke.

“Stop it.”

You ignored him, curling your fingers deep, pleasure returning like a tidal wave. Just a little more—

“I said stop.”

Suddenly he was in front of you again, yanking your wrist away. You wrestled your arm from his grip, fire burning in your chest.

“You can’t stop me from finishing myself off the minute you step out of this shower.”

He tilted his head, the curve of his mouth devilishly calm. “Can’t I?”

And god dammit, your body believed him, suddenly cold and dry. Already aching with loss. Like your nerves knew it was over before you did.

“You’ll get what you want,” he said, voice soft but edged with promise. “Eventually.”

Then he disappeared, leaving you alone with nothing but the sound of running water and the thrum of your pulse echoing in your ears.

That evening, the four of you got dressed up to go out. It was your dad’s idea. One final hurrah to celebrate before the trip came to a close. He picked a fancy rooftop bar downtown. One with panoramic views of the city and overpriced cocktails. You all agreed without much hesitation. Maybe it was the sun. Or the lingering tequila. Or that low hum of sadness that always comes with the end of something good.

You slipped into a black velvet dress—simple, but clinging in all the right places, the open back catching the breeze as you stepped into the night air. You weren’t dressing for him, not really, but you noticed the moment Noel’s gaze found you across the table. It lingered a beat too long before sliding away. A flicker of a smile tugged at your lips, but you fought it down.

You clinked glasses with Emily and threw yourself into conversation, a little guilty for how much of the trip you’d spent focused only on Noel. You rarely got this kind of time with her and she always managed to lift your mood.

Another drink in, your face was flushed with laughter, chest warm from gin. You were trying to stay present, to forget that everyone was leaving tomorrow. So you leaned into it. Let yourself forget, just a little longer.

Your dad was midway through one of his classic long winded stories, arms moving animatedly as he recalled something you’d heard countless times. You were laughing along when you felt the nudge of a knee against yours beneath the table.

The contact was soft but deliberate and you had to fight your instinct to flinch. Your eyes snapped across the table where Noel was now very pointedly not looking at you, his tongue sweeping slowly across his bottom lip like he was trying not to smile.

Prick.

You inhaled sharply and shifted your legs out of his reach. He was not doing this here. You were still on edge from earlier. Pissed at the way he’d pushed you to the brink and left you there. And now he was testing your boundaries again.

Part of you was dangerously close to snapping and kicking him in return. The other wanted to slide your foot up his thigh and make him squirm.

Before you could decide, the waitress returned with a fresh round. She placed Noel’s drink down last, lingering just a second too long, her eyes locked on his.

“Enjoy,” she said, sweet and just shy of suggestive.

Noel offered her a warm smile. “Cheers, love.”

She grinned, tucking her hair behind one ear as she turned away, glancing back once before disappearing.

You took a long sip of your drink. This was stupid. He was stupid. You weren’t going to rise to it. But Emily had no such restraint.

“Noel,” she teased, drawing out the vowels. “Last night, now’s your chance,” she said, nodding toward the retreating waitress with a raise of her eyebrows.

Noel smirked, but covered it quickly with a sip of his drink, swirling the ice.

“Nah,” he said with a faux considerate shrug. “She’s a bit young for me, don’t you think?”

Your blood turned icy. Whether it was an intentional jab or just a casual deflection, you felt it in your gut. And you hated that it landed.

Emily just shrugged. “Some women are into that.”

Noel chuckled under his breath and looked like he was fighting hard not to send a smug smirk your way. You, on the other hand, were staring daggers at him.

“Emily, please,” your dad said with a sigh, shaking his head. “Leave the man alone. He’s had it rough enough as it is.”

Then he turned to Noel, thoughtful now. “Though I will say, you do seem a hell of a lot more relaxed than when you first got here.”

Noel stiffened imperceptibly, but you caught the faint tension in his shoulders.

“S’pose so,” he said mildly, like it hadn't even occurred to him until now.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” your dad said, giving him a friendly clap on the back. “You’re welcome on any family trip from here on out, right girls?” He looked between you and Emily, clearly expecting enthusiastic agreement.

“Of course!” Emily said quickly, reaching across the table to pat Noel’s hand.

You were a beat too slow. The idea of Noel joining you on another trip was somewhere between absurd and thrilling.

“Right,” you said, trying to sound casual. But your pulse had quickened. Maybe next time he’d have his own room. Maybe there wouldn’t be so many stolen moments. Maybe—

“At least sound a bit more excited,” Noel cut in, grinning now. It was the first thing he’d directed at you all evening. His voice was light, but the undercurrent was unmistakable. Like he knew exactly what kind of thoughts you were having.

Your cheeks flared. “No, of course,” you said quickly, forcing brightness into your tone. “Definitely.”

Your dad beamed. “Well, I’m just happy we could be of service.”

You nearly choked on your drink. The phrase felt too pointed, your mind spinning with all the ways it could be interpreted. Then there was that knee knocking at yours again, lighter this time.

You coughed. “Food anyone?”

The rest of dinner went smoothly enough. Noel mercifully didn’t touch you again. But his gaze? That was another story. The weight of it kept you warmed despite the chill of the night.

It was maddening. And maddeningly effective.

By the time the plates were cleared and everyone had sipped the last of their drinks, your dad clapped his hands together, the way he always did when declaring something final.

“Right,” he said, rising from his chair. “We better head back. I haven’t even started packing.”

You and Emily murmured your agreement, chairs scraping back from the table, but Noel cut in casually, swirling the last of his drink.

“Go on without me,” he said. “Might catch up with a friend in town.”

Your stomach dipped before you could stop it.

Your dad just nodded, unfazed. “Alright, mate. Safe travels.”

You downed the rest of your drink, warm, too strong alcohol pooling at the bottom, and rose without looking in Noel’s direction. Your chair scraped a little too sharply across the floor.

You trailed after Emily and your dad through the restaurant, the city’s skyline glowing against the dark windows, too pretty for how sour you suddenly felt.

At the elevator, you offered a quiet excuse about needing the restroom and promised to meet them downstairs.

Inside, you stared at your reflection, only to find a bitter woman looking back. You closed your eyes and drew in a slow breath. He didn’t owe you anything. But that didn’t stop you from feeling disappointed.

Once you’d gathered yourself, you exited, smoothing your dress as you walked out. Then your eyes landed on Noel, leaning casually against the wall opposite the bathroom, arms crossed.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes narrowing.

“I thought you were meeting a friend,” you said slowly.

“I am,” he said evenly.

You blinked. Looked around the hall, empty but for the two of you.

He grinned, just a bit. “You’re the friend.”

Your stomach flipped. It was unexpectedly…sweet of him. The two of you hadn’t spent any time alone outside of the house. It was embarrassing how quickly your mood shifted.

You crossed your arms, mirroring his stance, rolling your eyes hard enough to sell some detachment. “You’re so stupid.”

“Come on then,” he said, pushing off the wall.

You hesitated, glancing toward the elevator where your dad and Emily were surely waiting.

“My dad and Emily—”

“Tell ‘em you went out,” he said casually. “Met up with that guy who gave you that.” He reached out and tapped your shoulder lightly, right where the faint trace of the mark he’d left was beginning to fade.

You swallowed. “Right.”

You fumbled for your phone and sent a quick text to Emily. Her response was almost immediate—some suggestive emojis. You smiled down at it despite yourself and slid your phone back into your bag.

When you looked up, Noel was still watching you, and the look on his face made it impossible to hide anything. He looked pleased. Too pleased.

“Where to?”

Noel took you to a cocktail lounge that felt entirely out of your league. It was the kind of place you wouldn’t have dared enter alone—dim and decadent, every detail curated to feel intimate and exclusive. The chandeliers above were antique and low, casting a warm amber glow that shimmered off cut glass and whispered of obscene price tags.

You tried not to gawk as you followed him through the room, head slightly down, eyes flicking across velvet booths and flickering candlelight. Music floated low, barely loud enough to hear, but enough to blur voices and hush the air.

Most of the tables were filled. Small clusters of people leaned in close, talking low. Couples sat with knees brushing, fingers idly tracing stems of half-empty glasses. A flush of something warm spread through your chest. He’d brought you here. Here, where he didn’t seem worried about being seen with you. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

He led you to a curved booth tucked into the far corner. The cushions were deep purple and the candle on the table was casting patterns across the marble. Noel slid in first, settling squarely in the center like he belonged there, arm draping across the backrest.

You hovered at the edge for a second before he patted the seat next to him. He seemed utterly relaxed. You weren’t sure why you weren’t. Maybe it was because you felt out of place.

You sat. Carefully. Not brushing too close, but close enough to feel the heat of his arm behind you, the ghost of his knee against yours.

The low light played off the sharp lines of his face, shadows catching in the hollows of his cheeks, tracing the bridge of his nose.

His eyes, half-lidded and unreadable, cut to you. You held the gaze. He smirked slowly, leaned in just enough that his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“It was such an effort to keep my hands to myself earlier,” he murmured. “Don’t shy away from me now.”

The words dropped like hot coals straight to your spine, melting through you. Such fierce want struck you all at once. And the way his fingers ghosted from the booth’s edge to your shoulder, playing with the velvet of your dress, told he’d seen every last bit of the effect he had on you.

You turned toward him slightly, your hand sliding to rest on his knee. Testing. He didn’t flinch. Just watched you, mouth curled into the faintest suggestion of amusement.

Your fingers drifted higher. “As long as I’m allowed the same courtesy,” you purred, letting your nails just barely graze the fabric.

His jaw flexed. A flicker passed behind his eyes. But you pulled your hand away before he could respond and reached instead for the wine list, pretending you hadn’t just watched his control waver.

He dropped his hand from your shoulder and leaned forward slightly, peering over your arm.

“That one,” he said, pointing to a wine you couldn’t pronounce and wouldn’t dare attempt.

You nodded faintly, and he flagged a waiter down. Moments later, your glasses were filled, the bottle left between you.

You raised your glass. He mirrored the gesture and you both drank, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you lowered your glass your lips parted to speak, but the words caught when his thumb reached out and brushed the corner of your mouth.

“Just wine,” he murmured. Then he lifted the same thumb to his lips and sucked it clean without ceremony.

Heat bloomed under your skin. The place he’d touched buzzed with warmth, almost embarrassingly sensitive. You blinked, trying to summon something to say, anything to match the casual boldness of the moment.

But he beat you to it.

“So tell me,” he said casually, “did you touch yourself after I left?”

You nearly choked on your drink. One sharp cough, and you turned your head toward him slowly. He didn’t look sheepish in the slightest, just smug. Like he was picturing you, desperate and spread open.

Your cheeks flushed, but you pushed down the embarrassment. He liked it. The idea of it.

You met his gaze, steadying your voice. “You tell me. Thought you were supposed to know these things.”

He smirked. “Oh, I know.” He paused, eyes flicking down your body like he could see through the dress. “Just wanted to hear you admit it.”

Your stomach fluttered, a little thrill twisting low. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your pulse was drumming hard in your ears.

“And what if I did?” you asked quietly, eyes still locked on his. “What would you do about it?”

He swallowed once, throat bobbing visibly. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You turned away, lifting your glass again to buy yourself a moment. But he laughed softly, seeing right through you.

“Not so bold now, are we?”

He was too pleased with himself. The edge in his voice sparked something petty in you.

“I did,” you said coolly, lying straight to his face. “Right after you left.”

His expression faltered for the briefest second, But then it was back, lips curling into that familiar shape.

“Liar,” he said easily, taking another sip. “You’re too strung out right now. One touch and you'd come apart.”

You stiffened and tipped the last of your wine into your mouth, the rich taste lost on your tongue, too busy choking down your pride.

An hour later, your head was pleasantly fuzzy and Noel’s hand had found a home on your thigh.

His thumb traced slow, absent circles over the velvet of your dress, the bare skin just above your knee. Every pass sent a flicker of sensation through you, making it hard to focus on what he was saying.

He was leaning in close now, the wine having softened the sharper edges of his demeanor. You were learning something new about him. He was an affectionate drunk, handsy in just the right way. It suited him far too well. Made him feel even more dangerous.

But you didn’t mind. Not in the slightest.

The wine in your blood made everything feel just a little more possible. You shifted slightly, resting your arm along the back of the booth. Your fingertips grazed the nape of his neck, finding the soft hair there and you gave in to temptation, gently twisting a few strands between your fingers.

His thumb paused mid-stroke. Then continued, slower this time. With a little more pressure. The atmosphere between you shifted again.

You tilted your head and watched him, taking in his features. The face you knew too well now. The slope of his nose, the creases that held years of smirks and squints. He looked good like this. Shadowed and still with his hand on you like it belonged there.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” you said quietly, voice almost swallowed by the music and low hum of the room.

He turned to you fully, holding your gaze. “Nothing stopping you, love.”

A small smile pulled at your lips. “Really?” you asked, letting the tease flicker at the edge of your voice. “You don’t think I’m too young for you?”

It was soft, a callback to earlier. But something real lurked underneath it. Some note of insecurity you hadn’t meant to let slip.

His lips curled, eyes glinting. “Don’t you think I’m too old for you?”

You didn’t answer right away. Your fingers threaded deeper into his hair, nails grazing lightly against his scalp. You watched the way his lashes lowered, the way his breath caught subtly at the contact. It made your own heart stutter in response.

How could you explain that it wasn’t despite the age, but because of it? That it was in his calm steadiness, the depth in his eyes, the streaks of silver in his hair, the way he carried himself. Just him. All of him.

So instead of trying to say all that, you just smiled. You shook your head once. Let your eyes answer for you.

His gaze dropped to your mouth.

His hand rose, brushing a knuckle along your cheek before cupping your jaw. The warmth of his palm sent a shiver down your spine, the moment stretching just long enough for your breath to catch.

Then he kissed you.

It was warm and slow, lips plush and confident. He tasted like red wine and heat. You exhaled softly into him, eyes fluttering shut as your body leaned in instinctively, pulled by gravity or want. You couldn’t tell which.

Your hand tightened in his hair, fingernails grazing his scalp just enough to draw a low sound from him. One that made your heart thud against your ribs. You felt the sound more than heard it, a shiver that passed through his chest and into yours.

It was dizzying, how much of him you wanted. How much of yourself you were willing to give. When he finally pulled back, he lingered close, his breath warm against your cheek.

“I think we need to get out of here,” he said, voice husky. “Now.”

You barely heard him over the rush in your ears, but you didn’t need him to repeat it. Your entire body responded before your mouth could.

When he turned to flag down the waiter, his neck shifted beneath the open collar of his shirt, revealing a sliver of skin you had to physically stop yourself from sinking your teeth into.

It was an effort to keep quiet as the two of you stumbled through the front door, limbs tangled, laughter threatening to spill from your lips. Noel’s hands found your waist, firm and steady even in his wine loosened state, steering you forward with a few half-mumbled words that were probably meant to be reassuring but came out slurred with amusement.

You bent to kick off your heels, wobbling slightly. Noel crouched beside you, slowly unlacing his boots, and when he looked up at you from beneath his lashes—eyes warm, mouth slightly parted—your own mouth went dry.

Without a word, you turned on your heel and slipped down the hall. You left the door open behind you and began stripping off your dress.

Noel lingered in the doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame, eyes following every step.

“Bit presumptuous of you,” he said. “I was just coming to wish you a good night.”

Your lips twitched as you crossed the room. “Tell that to your dick,” you murmured, palming him through his trousers.

He stilled, breath hitching. His hands found your hips but you were already pulling him in. You walked him back until his shoulders bumped the door with a soft thud. One hand reached behind him to nudge it closed with a gentle click.

You didn’t immediately kiss him. Not yet. No you let him stand there as his breathing began to get more labored.

Then you leaned in to press slow kisses along the base of his neck. The spot you’d been thinking about all night. You could feel him go still beneath you. Then a soft shiver.

Encouraged, you brushed your lips lower, toward the hollow of his throat, catching the edge of his adam’s apple with your mouth. You parted your lips around it, sucking gently, feeling it vibrate beneath your lips as he let out a breathy laugh.

You wanted to leave a mark. Nearly did. But you made yourself pull back. Just for a second.

Then your hands found the buttons of his shirt. You worked them open one by one, mouth brushing over each new patch of skin revealed. His chest was warm beneath your palms, rising and falling unevenly as you slid your hands under the fabric—one over his stomach, the other around his back, pulling him closer.

He exhaled sharply through his nose as your teeth scraped the tender skin below his ear. When you finally pulled back, your breath caught.

God, he was gorgeous like this. Hair mussed. Shirt hanging open. Eyes dark and half-lidded, lashes lowered but still trained on you. Leaned back like that, against the door, he looked…undone.

And all yours. At least for the night.

His gaze dropped to your chest, where your bra still clung to your body. His thumb slipped beneath one strap and just…rested there, drawing slow circles against your skin. Not pulling. Just touching. The stillness that settled between you was heavy with heat.

Then he leaned in.

The kiss wasn’t urgent. It built gradually, like the first one you’d shared in this same spot only days ago. But this time he wouldn’t run away.

You melted into him, fingertips curling over his shoulders as you eased his shirt off. He shifted closer, deepening the kiss. Your hand trailed down his chest until your fingers brushed the waistband of his trousers. You scratched lightly along the skin just above, feeling his stomach tense beneath your touch.

Your fingers reached his belt, pausing to savor the anticipation. It wasn’t until he let out a quiet, broken sound against your lips that you moved again, the sound piercing straight through you. You nipped his bottom lip just enough to make him gasp softly, then slowly tugged the belt free.

Then your hand was slipping inside.

He was already halfway there, hot and heavy beneath your palm. You felt him twitch and it sent a jolt through you.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” you whispered teasingly, breath ghosting against his cheek.

His lips parted, ready with some cheeky reply, but whatever it was died the second your hand cupped him fully.

His head fell back against the door with a dull thud, his breath escaping him in a sharp exhale as your hand moved again, firmer this time.

You felt him swell in your palm, the heat of him almost burning, and something about the way his body reacted to you sent a flush of pride rolling through you. It felt like the entire day had been building to this. And now you finally had him.

He groaned low, hips rocking into your hand like he couldn’t help it. You felt the shudder ripple through him.

“Fuck,” he muttered, forehead pressing to yours, breath shaky and warm against your mouth. His eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown wide, the blue of them swallowed whole.

Just as your fingers slipped lower again, he flipped you around and pinned you against the door with a soft thud that managed to knock the air from your lungs.

One of his hands slid down the curve of your body to your bare thigh, fingers pressing into the soft skin before he lifted your leg and hooked it around his hip. The change made you gasp, the heat of him slotting perfectly against your core, even with the thin barrier of your underwear between you.

He’d let you play. Let you tease. But now that side of him, the one that had driven you mad earlier, was back.

He hiked your leg higher, grinding into you with purpose, and you choked out a sound as the pressure hit just right. Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails dragging lightly across his skin.

He dropped his head to your neck, open mouth dragging hot, messy kisses along your pulse point. The slight scrape of stubble, the warmth of his tongue, the barely contained noise in the back of his throat—it all hit you at once.

Your head lolled back against the door, eyes fluttering shut. But he caught your chin and guided your mouth back to his, pulling you in for a kiss that was all heat and hunger.

He groaned into your mouth, pinning you harder to the door. The wood dug into your spine but you didn’t care. Not when every point of contact between you burned too hot to feel anything else.

Your head was spinning. Partly from the alcohol, but mostly from him. You pulled back just enough to speak, breath catching.

“Noel,” you whispered, voice trembling with the ache he’d stirred up inside you. “I don’t think I can take it anymore.”

You hadn’t meant to sound so desperate. But it was true. He’d been teasing you, torturing you, winding you up all day and you needed him to do something about it. Now.

His hands cradled your jaw before sliding down to your hips, guiding you backwards. You moved with him until the backs of your knees hit the mattress.

“I promised I’d give you what you want, didn’t I?” he hummed.

His shirt was long forgotten on the floor. Your bra slipped from your shoulders, skin prickling as cool air hit the newly exposed flesh. You watched the shift in his expression as his eyes raked over you.

Then he was on you again, kissing you deeply. Your hands roamed greedily over his shoulders, his back, pulling him down with you until he hovered above, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, your chest, lower. You gasped when his hand slipped beneath your panties, the first contact making your hips jolt.

His fingers were warm and rough and perfect. He dragged slow, devastating circles over your clit, teasing you with every press. You whimpered, hips lifting to chase more friction, but he didn’t rush.

He gathered your slick on his fingers, stroking through it before finally easing one finger inside. You clenched around him, a soft sound escaping your mouth before you could catch it.

“Christ, I’m gonna miss this,” he murmured against your skin.

The words landed hard in your chest. Whether he meant to say it or not, they cracked something open inside you. But you didn’t have time to dwell because then his middle finger joined the first, stretching you open. Your hands gripped his arms, needing something to hold onto.

Then he curled his fingers.

You let out a sharp, fractured breath, your spine arching as relief pulsed through you. He trailed hot, open kisses down your sternum, over the swell of your chest. Then his mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking gently before his tongue flicked in rhythm with the movement of his fingers.

You cried out, hips jerking upward as sensation surged through you. He was drawing it out on purpose, keeping you balanced on a knife’s edge. You dug your nails into his back, hard enough to make him hiss and pull away. But he was grinning now, proud and knowing.

You could picture how you looked to him. Flushed, half-naked, hair wild, chest heaving beneath him.

“If you don’t take those off right now…” you muttered, voice low and frayed, your eyes locked on the bulge in his trousers.

Noel gave you a wicked smirk. Desire burned in his eyes, but he still played coy. He leaned back just enough to make you think he was going to comply.

“These?” he asked, all mock innocence. His fly was already undone, belt hanging askew, but he only hooked a thumb in his waistband and didn’t move an inch.

Oh, he was evil.

You lunged, grabbing the band of his boxers just before he slipped out of reach. The elastic snapped back against his stomach with a sharp crack, and he laughed, low and delighted.

“Easy now,” he said, still grinning. “One might think you’re getting desperate.”

You glared, lips tight. “And if I say I am will it make you move any faster?”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “No.”

You let out a dramatic groan and flopped back onto the mattress, the pillows rustling around you. Your patience was hanging by a thread.

Finally, you heard the soft creak of the mattress as he shifted his weight. You propped yourself up on your elbows just in time to see him slowly slide his trousers down.

He was down to his boxers now and for a moment all you could do was stare. It was ridiculous how good he looked. Your gaze dropped to the outline in his boxers, the clear strain of him, thick and heavy against the fabric, and you clenched, already feeling the phantom stretch.

Then he peeled those off too.

His cock sprang free, flushed and rigid, the sight of him stealing the breath from your lungs. You bit your lip hard, eyes locked on the way his hand curled around himself, stroking slowly. A tremor ran through him at the contact, his chest rising more sharply now. Your gaze finally dragged up to meet his and found him watching you just as intently. Roaming your body like he couldn’t choose where to settle first.

You slid your underwear off and tossed them aside. And just like that, you were both bare.

It struck you then—this was the first time you’d both been fully naked in front of each other. No clothes, no barriers. All the other times had been quick, frantic, with layers still clinging to your bodies. But this…this felt different.

Something shifted in your chest as you looked at him. Really looked at him. Just days ago, he’d stood in this room barely able to let himself kiss you. Now here he was, undone in front of you, completely exposed in more ways than one.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His hand fell away, and a flicker of hesitation crossed his face. You wondered if he was feeling it too. The weight of what this had become. The tenderness buried inside the lust.

You tugged lightly at his wrist and he came to you, settling onto the bed. His body hovered over yours for a moment and then he kissed you deep and slow, guiding you back down to the mattress.

His hand slid up your bare thigh, curling around it as he guided your leg over his hip again. This time, there was no barrier between you. The full heat of his skin against yours made your breath stutter in your throat. You could feel him hard against your hip and just like that the fierce heat was back with full force.

“I want you,” you whispered against his mouth. “All of you. Don’t hold back.”

He inhaled sharply through his nose.

“Do you mean that?” he asked, voice low.

You nodded, lips brushing his. “I do.”

Before you could register it, he flipped you onto your stomach, hands firmly guiding your hips up beneath him.

The mattress dipped behind you as he settled into place. You braced yourself on your elbows, heart pounding in your ears. He lingered just behind you, not touching yet but close enough to make you ache. When he nudged your knees farther apart, a wave of vulnerability surged through you, tangled with anticipation.

His fingers slid between your legs and you flinched at the contact, pleasure shooting up your spine. His thumb dragged lazy circles over your clit making you shudder.

You were about to start begging when you felt him brushing against your entrance. Your whole body tensed in response.

One of his hands slid to your ass, fingers spreading you open as he lined himself up. He didn't rush. He let you feel every second of it. The tension was unbearable.

And then, finally, he pushed in.

You dropped your forehead to the mattress with a soundless cry. He filled you slowly, each inch claiming more space, more heat, more breath.

That familiar, intense stretch engulfed you, every nerve lit up. His groan rumbled through the quiet of the room and you felt the tremor of it in your own chest.

“Noel,” you gasped, voice broken and breathless.

He paused halfway, holding still so you could adjust. He wasn’t even fully in yet and you felt completely wrecked.

Then he moved deeper. He didn’t stop until he was all the way in, every inch of him buried inside.

The fullness, the heat, the pressure—it overwhelmed you. You felt your heartbeat pulsing between your legs, felt your body stretch and clench around him. After a few breaths, you pushed back, your hips seeking more, granting permission.

And he took it.

He pulled back slowly, almost all the way, before sliding in again. And again. And again. Each stroke built on the last, finding a rhythm. You met his thrusts eagerly, trying to draw him deeper, harder.

“More?” he panted, his voice choked.

You turned your head just enough to glimpse him. His hair was clinging to his forehead, jaw slack with pleasure, a flush rising along his neck and chest. You clenched around him, your body reacting to the sheer sight of him.

“I meant what I said,” you rasped. “Don’t hold back.”

Something shifted in his face. He pulled out suddenly with a hiss of breath and muttered something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch, then gripped your hips tighter and eased your knees even farther apart.

Your chest dropped to the mattress, spine arching. He had you fully bent over for him, wide open, and then—

He slammed back into you. Hard

You cried out, a sound torn from somewhere deep. It was equal parts shock and raw, pulsing pleasure.

His grip on your waist tightened and he began to fuck into you with unrelenting force, each thrust jolting you forward on the bed only for him to yank you back against him again. The wet, obscene rhythm of it filled the room. It was what you’d been aching for. What he’d been denying you all day.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat when he found that spot—deep and devastating. You writhed beneath him.

He paused, adjusted his angle slightly, then drove into you again. Right there. Again and again. He hammered into it with cruel precision, grinding his pelvis into you. Your thighs trembled under the pressure, knees nearly giving out. Your hands clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto.

You met each thrust, hips snapping back to meet his, desperate to keep up with the pace he set. The sounds coming from your mouth weren’t words anymore. Just broken, desperate noises that filled the air between you.

Then he buried himself deep and leaned over your back, pressing into you with a slow, grinding motion that made you whimper. His chest was hot against your spine, his breath burning your ear.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?” he murmured, smug and wicked.

You gasped, lips trembling. “F-fuck you.”

He gave a low, amused hum. His hand slid into your hair, fingers curling at the base of your neck, and he pulled. Your head tipped back involuntarily, exposing your throat, your whole body bending to his control.

“If you insist,” he said, voice thick with heat.

And then he started again.

Using your hair as leverage, he pounded into you with a brutal rhythm that had you keening. The sharp tension at your scalp only heightened everything else. You’d never thought hair pulling would do anything for you, but now you understood. The heady mix of pleasure and pain had your nerves lit up like live wires. You were unraveling fast.

Choked moans tumbled from you in time with each thrust, body slick with sweat and heat. You could feel yourself tightening around him, pulsing at the edge of it. So close to breaking open you could hardly breathe.

And then he pulled out.

Your body convulsed with a helpless noise somewhere between a sob and a whine. No. Not again.

But his hand was already at your hip, nudging you to turn over. You moved without thought, breath ragged as your back sank into the pillow. You looked up at him, chest rising and falling in uneven waves.

“Surely you wouldn’t be so cruel as to do this to a lady twice in one day,” you managed, trying to keep your voice steady through your panting.

He met your gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just wanted to watch you fall apart.”

You didn’t need the rest of the sentence to understand it.

One last time.

Something splintered in your chest at the thought. The tension between your bodies didn’t lessen, but it shifted. Slowed.

Your expression softened as he leaned down, his body settling over yours, guiding your thigh up around his waist. His hand traced along the outside of your leg and then he pressed back inside you.

You exhaled a trembling breath.

He moved carefully, rolling his hips deep and slow. You could tell he wanted to take his time. And you let him. Secretly, you wanted that too. Needed it.

He leaned over you, capturing your mouth again in a slow, languid kiss. Your mouths parted in sync, his hips moving in time with the gentle drag of his lips. You curled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until your bodies were nearly flush.

Your release built slowly and steadily, rising like a wave. It was deep and heavy and nothing like the frantic rush from before.

He was close too. You could feel it in the stutter of his hips, the tremor in his arms, the way his breathing grew shallow. His mouth dropped from yours, forehead pressing gently to yours as you stared at each other in the low light. His eyes were dark and heavy lidded, glassy with something he wouldn’t speak aloud.

It was too much. Too intimate.

It felt like making love.

And that thought alone undid you.

Your body clenched around him suddenly, your breath hitching as the tension finally broke. He followed, groaning deep in his chest as he drove in one last time and spilled inside you.

You trembled as your orgasm crested and rolled through you. It was a different kind of pleasure. It crept up slowly, radiating through your entire body. Not a sharp slam, but a powerful flood pulsing through your chest and limbs.

You shuddered, eyes fluttering shut as the last ripples passed through you, leaving you hollowed and heavy in the best way.

He stayed inside you for a moment longer, his breath hot against your cheek, before he gently eased out and collapsed beside you with a soft grunt, arm brushing yours.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to. The silence was thick with everything you hadn’t said. Everything you couldn’t.

Your limbs felt too heavy to move, but when strength slowly returned you reached blindly for the first thing within reach, your soft sleep shirt, and wiped the mess between your legs. Without a word, you handed it over. He mumbled a half-slurred thank you before tossing the shirt across the room.

For a while, there was nothing. Just the sound of your breathing. The faint thump of your heart echoed in your ears. When you finally turned to look at him, he was asleep. His face was slack with exhaustion, the lines softened in the low light.

You knew you shouldn’t let him fall asleep here, but your own eyelids grew heavy, dragged down by the weight of everything—the wine, your body, what you’d just done. Just a few minutes, you told yourself, already fading. A few minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Saturday (again)

You woke with a jolt, body tensing before your mind even caught up. Something was wrong. Or rather someone. The someone that was still in your bed, limbs tangled with yours. The sunlight was streaming in far too brightly for it to be anything but late morning.

You sat up quickly and instantly regretted it. A dull, unforgiving throb pounded behind your eyes as the hangover announced itself loud and clear. You winced and brought a hand to your temple, the stale taste of wine lingering in your mouth.

A sound came from the kitchen and your heart leapt into your through. Whoever was in there had a direct line of sight to the living room. And the couch that was supposed to be Noel’s bed. Which was still perfectly made and empty.

Fuck.

You hadn’t even had the presence of mind to fold it down last night to keep up appearances. You’d been too drunk, too caught up in the way he kissed you.

Your pulse spiked as you twisted toward him. He was lying on his stomach, dead asleep. Blissfully unaware. And still completely naked.

You weren’t faring much better.

Even in the haze of alarm, you caught yourself pausing, just for a second, to look at him. His hair was slightly mussed and he looked a bit scruffy. You felt a flash of something soft and warm and far too dangerous.

Another sound in the kitchen snapped you out of it.

You shook his shoulder. “Noel. Noel wake up.”

He groaned and stretched, his limbs sprawling lazily like a cat. You shook him again, more urgently this time.

“Noel get up.”

His eyes cracked open, bleary and slow to focus. He smiled sleepily at you, eyes drifting down to your bare chest, entirely unbothered. You look he was giving you made your face heat despite everything.

“Morning,” he rasped, voice still thick from sleep.

You stared at him.“We fell asleep. You need to get out of here. Now.”

His eyebrows furrowed for a moment before looking around and finally realizing the situation.

“Oh. Oh fuck.”

He threw the covers off, scrambling for his clothes in all directions. The same clothes he was in last night. Shit. This was just getting worse.

You pulled on the nearest shirt, only to spot a cum stain dead center on the front. A soft curse slipped from your lips as you yanked it off and shoved it beneath your pillow.

“No, you should wear that one,” Noel said from across the room, grinning as he fumbled with his buttons.

You shot him a glare. “Not in the mood.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, but his grin didn’t fade.

You ran a hand through your hand, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. Trying to think. The moment you opened that door you’d have to start lying through your teeth.

So much for a quiet last morning.

Noel was nearly dressed, shirt still wrinkled, belt halfway through the loops. You weren’t sure if the flush on your skin was from anxiety or the memory of his hands on you just hours ago.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself.

“We need a plan,” you said quickly, waving your hand like something would come to you. You started pacing, wracking your brain for plausible scenarios and alibis.

“Okay, okay—you need to go into the bathroom across the hall. Wait a minute. Then walk out like you’ve just woken up there. Greet whoever’s in the kitchen with a smile and absolutely no guilt whatsoever. You…you met someone last night. That’s it. You’re just now getting back. Which explains the clothes. And why you weren’t on the couch.”

You turned to him for input, for anything, but Noel just dragged a hand over his face, looking equal parts amused and exhausted.

Yeah,” he said slowly. “Sure. I can do that.”

He turned to leave, but you grabbed his arm before he could open the door. Your eyes scanned him quickly, checking for signs of you. No lipstick, no love bites, but his hair was a disaster. You reached up to smooth a wild piece sticking up at the crown of his head, but it stubbornly refused to lie flat.

His hand closed gently around your wrist and you stilled.

Without a word, he leaned in and kissed you, soft and steadying. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t belong to a moment like this, but to a different timeline. One where you weren’t sneaking around, making up stories, or hiding any trace of your night together.

You started to pull away, but his hand came up to cup your cheek.

“Breathe,” he whispered. “If you look like you're hiding something, they'll know you are.”

Your throat tightened. You held his gaze, trying to memorize it. The blue of his eyes, the faint crease between his brows, the steadiness of his presence. You weren’t going to be this close to him again. Not like this.

You blinked rapidly and stepped back, breaking the spell. It was already fraying at the edges anyway. You sucked in a deep breath and gave a tiny nod.

Then he opened the door and slipped out.

You pressed your ear to the wood, breath held. You heard the soft creak of the bathroom door, the click of it closing and then opening again, and then his voice, light and casual.

“Mornin’, Emily.”

You let out a tiny breath of relief. At least it wasn’t your dad. Although Emily was more nosy.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to join the land of the living,” she chirped. “Where were you last night, hmm? Just now getting in?”

“With a friend.”

To his credit, Noel’s voice was smooth. Neutral. You’d believe him if you didn’t know better.

Emily wasn’t having it. “Uh-huh. And you’re still wearing the same clothes. Was it that waitress? Oh my god—it was, wasn’t it?”

Either he didn’t reply or just made some noncommittal gesture because you didn’t hear anything else.

You bit your nail, debating whether you should go out there now or wait a bit. But if there was one thing you knew about Emily, it was that she’d keep prying until she was satisfied.

You sucked in a breath and pushed the door open.

“Morning,” you mumbled, careful to keep your gaze anywhere but on Noel.

Emily turned, spatula in hand. “Morning,” she chirped, giving you a quick once over. “Oof, you look rough. Good night?”

Your pulse quickened, but you shot her a dry look. “Gee thanks Em.”

She tilted her head, feigning sympathy. “Oh no. Not good, was he?” she said, mock-coddling you like you were twelve and not trying to lie your way through a minefield.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from glancing over at Noel. You could feel his presence heavy in the room, but you didn’t dare look.

Emily crossed the kitchen in two strides and enveloped you in a hug, her arms wrapping tight around your shoulders. “My poor baby sister,” she cooed.

You stood there stiffly, letting her hold you until she started patting your hair like you were a dog.

“Alright get off me,” you said, wriggling out of her grip and pushing her back just enough to breathe.

She stepped away but not without narrowing her eyes a bit. Her gaze flicked over you again like she was searching for something before she turned back to the stove.

“You need a shower,” she said, her tone casual. Almost too casual. She slid a heaping plate of food toward you without another word. You gratefully took it and plopped down at the table.

Behind you, Noel had moved into the living room, rustling through his bag. When he straightened, he had a clean set of clothes in his hands.

“You can use it after me,” he said casually, already heading toward the hall.

“Try not to use all the hot water,” you called after him, aiming for breezy. Normal.

He gave a little laugh before disappearing around the corner.

You looked back at your plate, appetite wavering. You could feel Emily watching you, even if she pretended not to be.

“Was yacht boy really that bad,” she asked, voice light, “or did you just get absolutely wrecked last night?”

“Bit of both,” you lied, shrugging.

She hummed, unconvinced but not pressing. The two of you ate in silence for a few minutes.

“You sleep with him?”

You froze for a fraction of a second, your eyes flicking up to meet hers. Her voice had been too casual. Like she’d been working her way up to it.

“I…what?”

“Noel,” she said, enunciating his name. “Did you sleep with him?”

You nearly choked, the bite of food catching awkwardly in your throat. You coughed hard, head down, trying to buy yourself seconds to regroup.

When you finally managed to speak, your voice wobbled with forced amusement. “Why would you say that?” You even laughed a little, hoping it didn’t sound as false as it felt in your chest.

Emily didn’t smile. She didn’t even blink. “Dunno. Maybe because you smell like you’ve been bathing in his cologne.”

Shit.

You set your utensils down calmly. “And you’re jumping straight to me sleeping with him because of that?”

“Answer the question.” Her voice dropped. Quiet, but deadly serious.

That tone. You hated that tone. It always cut the deepest. Made you feel like a kid again, caught in a lie that hadn’t even fully formed.

You hesitated, heart pounding. Mercifully you were saved by Noel himself, emerging from his shower.

“All yours,” he said, oblivious to the sudden tension in the room.

You stood abruptly, scraping your chair back as you rose. Your eyes flicked to Emily once more. You hadn’t said anything, not exactly, but you knew it didn’t matter.

Not answering had said it all.

You stayed in the shower longer than you should’ve, trying to rinse away any lingering trace of him. Even though some part of you didn’t want to. You wanted to cling to every last bit of him. The scent on your skin. The feeling of his mouth on yours.

But clinging to it wouldn’t make it real any longer than it already had been.

You pressed your forehead to the tiled wall, contemplating what to tell Emily. All you knew was that you were well and truly fucked. Every possible version of the truth, or something close to it, seemed destined to crumble under her stare. She’d find the cracks.

You only stepped out when your fingers had pruned. You moved slowly as you toweled off, dressed, and made your way back across the hall. But when you opened the door, you stopped cold. Emily was sitting perched on the edge of your bed, arms crossed.

“Uh…hi Em can I help you?”

She didn’t smile. Not even a little bit. Just, “Your pillow smells like him. And your sheets reek of sex.”

Your stomach bottomed out. You went straight to deflection. It was all you had left.

“Why were you in here smelling my sheets you freak?”

She didn’t flinch. “And then there's this.”

From beneath your pillow, she pulled out your shirt. The one you’d tried to hide, stain front and center. Obvious. Damning.

You snatched it from her hand. “That’s private,” you muttered, folding it like that might somehow undo the damage. “Get out.”

“You’re not even gonna deny it?”

“Why should I?” The words came out flat. “You’ve already made up your mind.” You should’ve been panicking, but you knew it was over.

You expected her to yell. But she didn’t. She just stared at you, something hollow and quiet in her eyes.

“He’s Dad’s friend.”

You turned on her sharply.

“He’s my friend too,” you snapped, hating how childish it sounded. Then you lowered your voice. “It’s not like I planned this.”

She shook her head, disbelief thick in her voice. “He came here for a break. He’s in a vulnerable place. He’s twice your age. Recently divorced. Famous. Are you even thinking clearly? Did you even consider what would happen if this got out? Noel Gallagher, post-divorce, shacking up with some twenty something on holiday? Do you have any idea how that would look?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it again. You hadn’t thought about that. Not really. You hadn’t been anywhere public, not where anyone could’ve seen you…except last night.

Your stomach twisted.

“No one’s going to find out.”

Emily just stared, unreadable.

You stepped forward, trying to sound firmer than you felt. “Right, Emily? No one’s going to find out.”

She let out a slow breath. “I won’t tell Dad, if that’s what you’re asking.”

That small relief barely registered before she added, “He’d be even more disappointed than I am.”

That hurt. Your spine stiffened and you shot back without thinking.

“You’re such a hypocrite, you know that? You were pushing both of us this entire trip. To ‘live a little’. But now you’re mad because it’s not someone you approve of?”

She shook her head. “It’s more than that and you know it.”

A silence settled between you. “Whatever,” you muttered, turning away. “It’s over now anyway.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” You didn’t mean for it to sound bitter, but it did.

“Just because you slept with him once doesn’t mean it won’t happen again.”

You didn’t answer. But that was answer enough.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, realization dawning. “It wasn’t just last night, was it?”

You hesitated. Then shook your head slowly.

“No.”

Emily stared like she didn’t recognize you. Like the pieces didn’t add up to the sister she thought she knew. “Does yacht boy even exist?”

You gave the barest shake of your head.

She scoffed. “That bite mark…jesus. I’m so stupid. I thought you were being secretive because you were embarrassed. Not because you were lying.”

“Just…don’t say anything to him. Please,” you murmured. “To Noel.”

She looked at you sharply, then softened. Barely. “I won’t. But only for his sake. He doesn’t need more shit in his life right now.”

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

“Thanks,” you said, barely audible.

She stepped toward the door but then hesitated. For a second, it looked like she might say something else. But then she seemed to think better of it. Her hand tightened on the knob, and she shut the door with a bit more force than necessary.

You stood frozen in the quiet that followed. Then you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands. You refused to cry. Not over this. Not over him. Because if you did it would mean it wasn’t just some fleeting thing. It would mean it mattered.

You pressed your eyes shut and focused on breathing until the ache in your throat dulled to something more manageable.

At least for now.

You were stood in the living room, the weight of goodbye hanging heavy in the air. Noel’s flight was earlier than the rest of yours and now everyone was gathered to see him off. He was making light conversation with your dad, his hands shoved casually in his pockets, though you could see the tightness in his jaw.

Emily had put on a smile, but you could tell it was forced. You didn’t bother hiding anything at all.

When the car finally pulled up, Noel clapped your dad on the back, said something you didn’t catch. Then he turned to Emily, offering a brief hug. She returned it stiffly, murmuring a too bright goodbye.

Then his gaze slid to you and your stomach flipped helplessly. You hadn’t spoken much since the morning. As far as he knew, things were fine. As far as he knew, no one else knew.

His embrace lingered just a few seconds too long, just enough to make your heart twist. He smelled clean, familiar, like Noel, and you had to blink rapidly to keep yourself steady.

Over his shoulder, you met Emily’s gaze. Her expression was unreadable. Frustration, maybe. Maybe even something close to protectiveness

When he pulled back, he gave you a soft, private smile. You returned it, barely. Then he stepped outside, lifting one hand in a wave as he disappeared down the steps.

You stayed frozen until the sound of the car engine faded. Then you mumbled something about packing and slipped away before anyone could follow.

You’d packed in complete silence. It was a quiet sort of cruelty. Each piece of clothing now had a memory attached to it. Your bathing suits. Last night's dress. Your stupid stained t-shirt.

It was all bittersweet. You’d had him. If only for a few days, you had him. And yet you knew it was destined to be a temporary thing. You caught yourself staring at your bed and tried not to think about how soft his features had looked this morning.

You sat on the edge then slowly slid down until you were curled on your side. Emily had been right. The pillow really did smell like him. You let yourself breathe it in. Just once. Eyes shut tight.

You must’ve dozed off, because the next thing you heard was a gentle knock at your door.

“Cars gonna be here in thirty,” your dad said, poking his head in.

You sat up, scrubbing your hands over your face. “Okay.”

He lingered. “You alright, darling?”

You glanced toward the door, heart tight. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a faint smile into your voice. “Just tired. And I don’t wanna leave.”

He smiled warmly. “Me either.”

Thirty minutes later you were in the car, the house shrinking in the rear window. You watched it until it disappeared completely.

You tried to leave everything behind with it—the touches, the kisses, the rush. But your body still remembered. And so did your heart, stubborn as ever. You could still feel the weight of his hands on your skin. You could still feel him in your bones. In the parts of you he’d touched that had nothing to do with skin.

You leaned your forehead against the window, letting the cool glass ground you. A plane passed overhead and you wondered if he was on it. Already on his way back to a different life. One that didn’t include you. If he was thinking about you at all or just moving on the way you were supposed to.

You knew it couldn’t last. You knew it the second it began. And now it was over. Just a handful of days. You hadn’t meant to feel this much. But it happened anyway. Now all that was left was the ache in your chest, quiet and lingering. Like a bruise you couldn’t stop pressing. Not forever. But for a while.

It was a strange mix of sadness, gratitude, and something a little like grief. But no regrets. Not a single one. Not the sneaking around. Not the risk. Not even the way you let yourself want more knowing you wouldn’t get it. You’d do it all again. Just to have those moments. Even if they didn’t last.

You exhaled slowly and closed your eyes. You still wanted more. And maybe he did too. Maybe not. That’s what killed you the most. Not knowing. Not being able to ask.

Part of you hoped. Clung to the looks you’d shared. You wouldn’t reach out when you got back. You couldn’t. That had to be his decision.

And deep down, you knew it was wishful thinking. To believe he’d think of you again. Not like that. Given the circumstances. Given everything.

But that would never stop you from leaving a little space carved out for him. Just in case.

Even if it hurt.

#noel gallagher fic #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x you #noel gallagher smut #noel gallagher

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thy1quitcentral · 1 day ago

Text

K pop demon hunters

Huntrix vs Saja boys

X Honmoon!NB oc

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

.................💗..................

Honey smiled as they looked at all the fans, they tried their best to keep their glow down, not that the humans would notice . They were so damn excited, they have all the huntrix related clothing on and had their light sticks on too.

Their energy was buzzing

It's the demons that would notice, so far the attacks have been targeting places Honey has been at with the girls. What's it to say they would come after Honey. The source even.

***

'mira you don't have to scare them like that' Zoey huffs softly.

Honey at on the couch, straight with a blank but terrified look on their face.

Rumi sweats at this 'come on guys I'm sure we can accomplish the golden Honmoon before they even get their greasy and probably crusty hands on them' Rumi reasons and puts her hand on Honeys shoulder.

'oh I hope so, I rather like my current existence and would definitely not want to fall in the hands of Gwi-ma, I have met the guy and he is not very fun' Honey points out, finger in the air.

"wait you really met Gwi-ma?" Zoey asked, and that caught Mira and Rumis attention. Honey blinked "well...year, when I was younger and naive I heard his voice, he is rather like you guys will expect, incredibly mean and evil" honey shrugged "he took Star boy away" Honey explains.

"oooo who's star boy?" Mira pipes up and smirks. "A very talented human I had met 400 years ago, he would've made a great hunter with his musical talents" Honey smiled.

"what was he? An old friend?" Zoey grinned. "A best friend?" Mira raised a brow. "A lover?" Rumi spoke up.

Zoey and Mira looked to Rumi and gasped loudly "tragic ROMAAAANCE" They both yelled.

Honey blinked and rolled their eyes "one like me doesn't really need that sorr of connection, I am a divine being and divine beings don't have fun" They pouts.

***

The demons would go Where ever Honey glowed the most and tried tearing at the freshing placed light like paper. Turns out the closer this time was the weaker and slower the Honmoon gets. Honey had thought for a moment,

"imma go take a bathroom break, let me know when they appear" Honey stood up. Bobby looks to Honey "mkay, but be back soon"

Honey smiled and made their way from backstage and teleports to a humans restroom and stares at themselves in the mirror, they looked at themselves "hmm".

They felt it, a sudden rift in their domain, the lines on their body were spreading away from each other and glowing purple to magenta to pink, honey stared at what they could see from their neck.

Honey sees the color change back to blues and whites, they smiled. Their girls are doing their jobs

when they felt the crowd scream louder. They teleported above the humans and watched, bobbing their head to the beat, they swirled all around the stadium.

Rumi watched Honey dance in the air like ribbons caught in a swirling breeze. As she danced and got higher with her notes.

Honeys physical form dissolved Abit, turning gold in some parts of their body as they flowed among the crowd.

High note

The Honmoon glowed bright and spread out, Honey gathered themselves again and appeared in front of Rumi. The crowd was loud and cheering, the girls saw Honeys glow and were all so excited as they waved to the stadium of fans.

Honey smiled and claps their hands happily as they watched. They looked at their hands and saw gold but also their hand was missing and just nothing but gold light. Honey blinked at it and concentrated, their hand appeared back.

That was amazing....however

Honey just disappeared, felt...scary.

*********

Somewhere in the deepest parts of the demon world

"you are all Weak, PATHETIC"

Gwi-ma roared

"for a being to be everywhere, yet you don't know WHERE THEY ARE"

His flames glowing brighter

"the Golden moon is upon us, for years I have ordered all my best to charm and woo the Honmoon close but none of you have managed such a SIMPLE TASK"

The demon being held captive whimpers in fear "the hunters are strong and disgustingly sincere, the Honmoon won't even humor us with their attention" the demon spoke up slightly.

"Don't you idiots get it, once the hunters turn the Honmoon gold, our chance to destroy its center will be gone and it will be over FOR ALL OF US"

Many demons cried and coward looking up at the shield above them.

Demons all tried everything, during fights to end the hunters and get to the Honmoon. Flowers were given to Honmoon, toys, money even but

The Honmoon wanted none of it.

"there once was a mighty king" a voice spoke up, strumming is old and withered instrument.

Telling the tell of a mighty Demon king

"will be let the fire go out

And let the light one reign?

Is this the end of him now?

A dying king with a crumbling crown?

Will be let the fire go out?"

Gwi-ma frowned, was this demon here to mock him.

"no, I am not here to mock. I am here to help" he floats up along with four other demons. "Time we fight the hunters where they least expect" he smirks.

"strike them and woo their very god the same way they have been wiping them for centuries.

Music" he raised his arms out

"But first Go after the very thing that powers the honmoon"

They all posed

"their fans"

"A demon boy band?"

Gwi-ma only laughed loudly, the demons behind them laughing along. The demon king questioned how they think this could possibly work.

"fine...I'll see your plan through but I am curious, in 400 years, you've never done a single thing that didn't serve yourself" Gwi-ma hummed.

"or is it you wish to see that ...friend of yours again, surely you won't do anything to betray me?" gwi-ma's flames grew.

'a smile, bright and kind, a brand new bipa, given to him by....them'

'his crying sister holding her small hand out to him, his mother holding onto the small girl'

Jinu frowned for a moment and stared down. He shook the memory away, haunting and filled him with great misery.

"what do you want?"

"I want my memories erased"

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asraxfile · 23 hours ago

Text

Break up with your boyfriend!! (cause I'm bored)

sypnosis Of course the most popular girl in your school would want your boyfriend, the most popular guy in school, or so you thought? genre fluff, suggestive warnings partying, making out, mentions of alcohol wc 1.6k

A/n: kinda rushed tbh lost the feeling for it at the end but I still wanted to feed yall soo enjoy reading ^^

As Ningning walked into the house where a loud party was happening, she found herself feeling a rush of nervousness and slight uncertainty. Wherever she was she was always alone, even if she’s the most popular girl in school, she always felt quite empty with herself.

As she walked down the stairs she was met by a lot of greetings from people she couldn’t remember if they even went to her school. The smell of cold champagnes, vodka and any mixed alcohol filled her nostrils the deeper she walked into the crowd of people. This party was made exceptionally for the end of the school and to signify the start of summer. Ningning swung her long, silky, black hair off her right shoulder to her left as she went over to the counter, literally taking anything to have to drink.

Her mind was empty, blank and her face was impassive. She couldn’t quite remember what made her go to this party if everything is the exact same—well, maybe this time she was eager to come as soon as she heard you and your popular boyfriend were invited too.

Ningning walked over to the couch. She didn’t even bother to sway along her favorite songs that were playing. While she was sitting down she looked through the crowd of people who were onto each other and dancing, having the time of their lives. Her piercefull eyes searched for the familiar duo, moreover, for you.

High school was always so boring for Ningning. Many say girls like her were always immersed into boys because of her attractive appearance, but that was just a saying. The full truth was that Ningning never had many friends and boys just couldn’t do it well. Ningning just tends to get bored.

At times she thought something was wrong with her—Why doesn’t she like any boys like other girls do? Was it their appearance, lack of maturity or perhaps just non attraction?

It was the question in her mind, until you showed up and cleared Ningning’s path.

When you showed up the first thing Ningning noticed about you was your boyfriend who, in her opinion, looked so unnatural next to you. You don’t look good together at all.

Ningning always came into hardcore whenever she thought about someone longer than a day. She was excited to go to school because of you. Hoping you would approach her, even if she was the one who felt the attraction. For school, Ningning never let herself look chopped or ugly, meaning she wore makeup and always did her hair in one way. But for you, she tended to get ready even more. Spraying her perfume a few times more than usual, especially on days she knew you’d pass by her.

Rumor has it, since people caught the little things, that Ningning wants your boyfriend—which was far from true.

Even at the present moment, her eyes lingered on your figure, wanting her hands wrapped around your body not his.

You, clueless as ever, believed the rumors. But something made you feel weird about the popular girlie. You noticed how she, whenever you weren’t with your boyfriend, never walked up to him or even looked at him. In fact, she looked even more impassive whenever she saw him. You didn’t think of it too much, but you noticed her eyes on you once again.

She was distantly not so far away from you both. Ningning was watching you dance along to the hyper music. You were having fun but with her eyes on your whole figure didn’t make you uncomfortable.

At times you thought something was out of ordinary for you, just like Ningning thought for herself. To fill in the loneliness you felt for such a long time, you agreed to go out with your present boyfriend a month ago. He was really sweet but you never really felt it how you expected it to be. And so, you just suck it up and enjoyed it while it lasted.

You couldn’t keep avoiding her gaze, her dark eyes, shiny lips and silky hair were the only thing in your head.

‘No, I have a boyfriend, why would I approach her?’ a bitter thought occurs in your mind. You didn’t even know Ningning, you can’t just ask her for a dance. “Imma go get some fresh air, can you get us more drinks while so?” you loudly spoke into your boyfriend’s ear due to the loud music. In response he nodded as you both went separate ways.

As you opened the large balcony door, the nice view of the city met your eyes. A harsh cold breeze hits your body, making you more away the second it hits. Taking a deep breath, you emptied your mind. Enjoying the silence, the sound of cars distantly driving and the sight of the city lights. It all felt comforting up until you turned around to go back inside and got met by a figure you were afraid to approach the whole night.

Her eyes looked at yours, you felt starstruck and you felt your breath hitch within seconds. “Sorry, I needed some air too.” Ningning excused herself and took a step back with a friendly smile. You nodded as you stepped back as well, leaning on the balcony railings and you eyes her. “Yeah, it’s crazy hot in there.” you chuckled forcefully to lighten the mood. God, you were sweating.

A small smile formed on Ningning’s face as she leaned on the railing, half a meter away from you. She looked down and around the view of the city. “I always forget how pretty it looks from up here,” she murmured. Her voice was quieter now, softer “It’s always so peaceful.”

You glanced at her, stealing the moment to admire her profile—the way the city lights lit the skin on her face, how the breeze teased strands of her hair across her face.

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a listen to a familiar song, muffled from behind the door. She looked at you, her head turning slowly. Looking at you as if you’re someone she ‘d ever known.

“I thought you weren’t gonna come tonight,” she said, tone still casual, but her eyes said something else. Curiosity in her eyes as she waited for your reply.

“I wasn’t sure either,” you admitted, holding your gaze down. “But... my boyfriend wanted to, so I changed my mind.”

A pause occurred as Ningning let out a soft hum in understandment. “Right. Your boyfriend.”

The three words hung between your emotions like crazy. The empathise on the word ‘boyfriend’ made you feel nauseous. You didn’t know why—why it felt like you were disappointing her just by confirming he existed.

You tried to break the silence, swallowing past the dryness of your throat. “People always assume you like him.” Ningning turned toward you once again, the same impassive face lingering as she asked. “Do you?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Do you like him?”

The question repeated in your head like a clock, do you like him? You weren’t sure if it was love or just a stitch to fill the void. You opened your mouth to speak, answer the tough question, but Ningning talked once again.

“‘Cause from what I’ve heard he isn’t enjoying your presence much...” The absolute no emotion behind her voice made you drawn to her even more. You were shocked, but also confused—was it really true?

“What?” you asked, turning towards her too as you watched her nodd. Slightly exhaling while looking away, Ningning tilted her head to her left. Compulsively admiring your reactions. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Call me crazy but,” Ningning started, taking a second to form the right words. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “He’s not good for you.”

Your brows furrowed further, your heart stumbling over the meaning of her words. “You don’t even know me,” you whispered, the words escaping before you could second-guess them. Ningning’s lips parted, then curled slightly—not into a smirk this time, but something softer. “I’ll make time for you.” her soft spoken words were the ones making you feel warmer on this cold wind.

What’s happening with you? Why are you feeling butterflies at her words and not his?

“I shouldn’t be here,” you whispered, blinking fast. Looking anywhere but at her. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Then where is he?” she asked, a serious tone filling the color of her voice. “If you’re out here feeling like this, why isn’t he the one noticing?”

The silence filled the balcony once again and the weight of the words held down both of you to make a move. Ningning didn’t say it but you could feel it. You couldn’t answer cause you knew she was telling the truth.

Millions of thoughts rushed through your mind—but one thing stayed true in this silence.

In your opinion, she was much more interesting than him anyway. She was so hard to read but it was so obvious when you find out what’s really on her mind. That’s when you got closer to her, words not forming in your head—your eyes only lingered on her face.

As she looked up at you, you noticed her slightly biting her lower lip. Your eyes constantly running around her eyes and lips, couldn’t choose where to aim. Then you realize she’s right there, without anyone watching, just the two of you. He was obviously not here, but she was.

That’s when you pulled in, not being sure if she agreed. Inches, almost breaking between you. “Go on,”she whispered, her hand accidentally touching yours. And that was a sign for you to pull in even closer and finally kiss her. At first it was short with no touches.

As you fastly pulled away, you were met by her cold hands wrapping round your shoulders. No words were shared, it was just her who was leading you into this bittersweet chaos. One look at your face and Ningning wanted to know how you taste.

Your lips met hers again—soft and hesitant. Her lips were warm, slow, and patient, moving with a tenderness that made your stomach flip. She didn’t rush. She didn’t push. She just kissed you like she meant it. The world blurred for a moment—no music, no boyfriend, no rumors. Just the cold air curling around your bodies and the heat between your mouths.

Taking a step forward you cornered Ningning to the railings, making her lean onto them as you were in front of her. Not caring if you were breathless, Ningning pulled you by the collar of your shirt and kissed you again.

Her lipstick smudged all over your lips as you groaned into the kiss. “Ningning…” you managed to stammer out.

The sound of kissing filled the air as Ningning slightly moaned into it. Immersed and intoxicated booths heads moved in sync.

With your hand on her cheek and waist, Ningning perfectly knew she finally stole your heart from your boyfriend.

#asraxfile #aespa fluff #aespa ningning #ningning x reader #ning yizhuo #ningning x fem reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa #aespa x fem!reader #kpop imagines #kpop x reader

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yushi-ni · 1 day ago

Note

LOVEE ur dating oh sion post!! make one about riku/yushi pleasee or any of nct wish members🤍🤍

𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 ෆ NCT RIKU ෆ

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ masterlist

dating riku ღ established relationship, fluff & more mature content. mentions of pda - kisses - 18+ card games - food. this is for fun and entertainment purposes only, don’t take it too seriously!!!!

hiis loves, this one got requested so many times so i hope y’all like it!!! please let me know what you think hihihi big hugs 🤍🤍🤍

──୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ──

⟡ dating riku is honestly the closest thing one can get to a fairytale kind of romance. (without the pretty dresses - castles and horses) every little girl has dreamed of their own knight in shining armour and you might actually have full filled that childhood dream. riku is what many would consider; too good to be true. but his love and adoration for you is just pure and true. he has flaws, ofc, every person has flaws but out of all the people you have ever encountered; riku is one of a kind.

⟡ riku is brought up in a loving and warm home. he’s super close with his mom and sister, his whole life he’s been surrounded by womanly love and affection. even though he’s a guy, he has lots of understanding for and about the opposite gender. his mother’s kindness has definitely spread over to him. he listens - communicates - speaks words followed by actions and most of all he loves and cares deeply.

⟡ we all know riku is very affectionate, not just through physical touch but also through acts of service and words of affirmation. he’s definitely not one to step down from a little pda. he’s not ashamed nor does he feel like he needs to hide his affection for you when you’re out. yes he’ll be considerate of your surroundings and won’t push himself onto you when the time and place is just not there but in a comfortable setting he will definitely always make himself present. will somehow always have his arm around you, doesn’t even always realise it himself when his arm is lazily wrapped around your middle or neck. his hands have their fixed spot on your thigh and let’s not forget about the classic back hugs here and there

⟡ he’s obsessed with your lips. his own are puckered at all times whenever he gets the chance. will sneak many kisses, small or big, since he claims he needs it to get himself going. very big on ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ kisses. doesn’t really matter if he’s just running out to quickly get something at the corner store or if he is leaving for work; he always makes sure to kiss you goodbye before he leaves. same with ‘hello’ kisses, doesn’t matter if he’s walking into a room with other people around, he will always make way towards you first, leaning down to peck your lips with a small “hi baby” before he greets everyone around him as well.

⟡ speaking of pda & kisses; make outs happen quite often actually.. not when your whole friend group is around but if it’s ‘just’ sion or one of your besties, he’s not social distancing his lips from yours. he’s not scared to lock lips with you when his hyung is around. he couldn’t care less. ok he won’t push his tongue down your throat, but a little kiss never hurt nobody hehe

⟡ riku is the type of bf to put lots of thought into your dates. yes he enjoys a spontaneous ice cream run or a cafe date but he lives for the actual ‘real’ dates. the one where you take your time to dress up and get ready, looking your absolute prettiest ever (he thinks you’re breath taking at all times tho) completely with a new dress and all - matching your outfits etc etc. taking you to a new restaurant, a cozy wine bar or a rooftop (private) lounge. he believes these kind of dates are necessary for a relationship to be successful. the feeling of a very thoughtful - planned moment together and the excitement that comes with it. you’ll take turns picking out places, making reservations and setting up a dress code. keeping it a surprise for the other up until arrival!!! it’s honestly some of your fav things you do together

⟡ lowkey a very ‘traditional’ relationship type of guy. he will insist on paying the bill, every single time. it doesn’t matter how big or small, he wants to pay. will not even give you the time to take out your card. he thinks it’s his ‘duty’ to take care of you (in a loving way, not in a ‘ur my possession’ way) sometimes, really really sometimes, he’ll let you pay. but only because he wants you to stop nagging him about it. he doesn’t care, even if he had $3 left to his name; it would be spent on you. it’s just something he wants to do for you.

⟡ couple rings - couple bracelets - matching shoes - phone cases - keychains - socks ???? whatever it is, he loves it. just lowkey, he’s not wearing everything at once because that kinda ruins the whole idea of it. but he’ll always make sure to wear his ring, it was his gift to you for your 100 days anniversary (a big thing in korea) so it’s special to him. and it always goes with every outfit he wears. a win is a win!!!

⟡ he has lots of nicknames for you. some very interesting ones.. that make you question the creative capacity of his brain. but his favs and most stable ones are definitely; my love and princess. at first you had to get used to him calling you princess on random occasions.. a little new to the name (valid) but it came so naturally. you are a princess in his eyes and the most fun part is that over time the nickname became a very normalised name for you. he used to call you princess not just to your face but also when he was talking about you to his friends so almost naturally they picked up on it and it wasn’t; “when is yn coming?” but- “when’s your princess coming?” (ps. an; not in a weird way pls take it lightly!!!! people who have watched the100 get the vibe hehe) when it’s the bunch of you hanging out together and you’re in the kitchen getting some last snacks while the movie starts playing, you’ll hear the boys all unitedly calling for you from the couch. “princess!!!!!!! it’s starting”

⟡ riku will always be in touch with you, one way or the other. if it’s not actual texts, it will be memes in your ig dms - tiktoks - even random snapchat videos throughout the day with ‘vlog’ updates on what he’s doing. there won’t ever be a day that he’s not in your notifications. (bare minimum if you ask him) he doesn’t feel the need to text you 24/7 but he does let you know that you’re on his mind even when he’s just scrolling through tiktoks. will send you vids of 2 capybara’s playing with a; “it’s us”. he also likes phone calls but he won’t dramatically fall to the floor if you can’t talk over the phone for one night because you’re busy or just too tired to talk

⟡ he will make playlists for you every now and then with different songs for different reasons. one would be full of songs that he simply likes, just casual music, good vibes etc etc. some songs might have a specific kind of genre that he’s really into and just wants to share with you!!! but there’s also the special playlists; the songs that remind him of you. songs with lyrics that speak the words he wish he could sing to you at any time of the day. songs that remind him of you and him together or maybe future dreams etc etc. it will be a random sunday afternoon, riku is at work and you’re just chilling at home, enjoying your own company, when his name pops up with a newly shared playlist

⟡ he’s not necessarily the type to get jealous easily. at least, he doesn’t show it. there’s definitely moments he wished he could just snatch you away from others but he’ll never really show his jealous feelings unless you pull it out of him. he just gaslights himself that it’s ok (fake it till you make it!!!) but he can get a little sulky when it’s just the two of you again. won’t speak the truth out loud but you know your bf and this switch in his behaviour. sometimes you just talk to him (more force him to talk to you) about the matter but other days you feel a little more .. playful. teasing him about it because you both know you’re happy and good together, there’s no need to worry or doubt each other’s love. so you try to keep these kind of things light and a little teasing never hurt nobody hehe. and tbh.. why won’t you pull his strings a little bit. who knows what fun that might bring (wink)

⟡ shares his food with you. doesn’t matter what it is, his spoon automatically goes to your mouth. awaiting your reaction when you take a bite and happily continue eating when you nod and hum in satisfaction!!! sometimes when you go out for food he’ll purposely pick flavors and things he knows you like so he can share his own with you. he likes sweet drinks and is still getting used to the bitter taste of coffee (he just drinks it for the caffeine) and your sweet tooth might not be as big as his but you’ll always gladly take a bite, the sweet gesture always makes your heart so happy. and obviously you share yours with him as well!!! even if it’s that same damn coffee you always order; he’ll take that sip as if he has never tasted anything like it before!

⟡ ok hear me out. i don’t think he’s a horny dog that needs to be taken care of everyday, twice a day, 10 days a week but i definitely think he likes bedroom time with you. not even just the sexual stuff. he loves waking up next to you whenever he has a day off and you’re sleeping over at his dorm. there’s nothing better.. welllll not a lot of things at least because he definitely considers himself lucky that the two maknaes are living in the other dorm. he has a green card from yushi whenever you sleep over. and he sure as hell makes use of it. morning gymnastics??? yes ma’am sign him up. it’s actually almost like drugs to him. he absolutely loves it, there’s no better way to start his day. (and you can’t disagree ofc)

⟡ riku orders food and coffee to your house whenever he’s at work. if he has to leave early in the morning while you’re still asleep, he’ll get coffee delivered to your home as soon as you wake up. or if he has to work late and you’re already off work or whatever, he will order food for you to make sure you’re eating well even though he’s not there with you.

⟡ he gets you flowers on the most random days. in his opinion there’s no need to have a reason or occasion to give someone flowers. love and affection is enough to get a special person a pretty bouquet of flowers. he knows your favs and has the lady at the shop create something new with it every single time. there has never been a bouquet you didn’t like!!! every single one is a piece of art and you’re always lowkey sad when they’re slowly dying. he also loves that you take out one flower before you throw them out. so you can keep it in your little journal collection. you did it the very first time he got you flowers and it just stuck with you ever since. this way the memories never die!!!

⟡ he’s very serious about his life with you. you can tell by the way he talks about his future and goals. he’s very vocal about his dreams for when he gets older. the kind of house he would like to buy, a home for you and him. the kind of lifestyle he would like to have so he can live happily and without any regrets. you’re his muse and motivation. you’re genuinely the one that can make his hardest days more enjoyable just with your presence and good energy. he knows that both life and a relationship come with ups and downs but he’s ready to fight for you when it’s needed. you’re his person and there’s genuinely nothing that can make him feel more happy and loved like you. he knows what he wants and it’s you and him forever till the end of time.

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qveerthe0ry · 2 days ago

Note

Hi, I’ve recently discovered your blog (LOVE it) and was wondering if you’d be open to writing Joel Miller x top ftm reader

I’m not sure if requests are supposed to be specific (and forgive me if it’s too detailed) but I’d love to see Joel exploring his newly found attraction to men (bi Joel is so dear to me) and quickly finding out that he’s so *incredibly* sensitive and needy when his ass is being played and toyed with

Omg anon. My sweet anon. Thank you for sending this to me OVER SIX MONTHS AGO 😭 I'm so sorry it took me so long. I could lie and say I didn't see it, or that I was saving it for pride month, but I've literally written and re-written this one like 3 times over to get it right. Thank you for your patience, I hope you're still out there and see this lol.

Without further ado, enjoy this gay shit and happy pride! 🏳️‍🌈

Guys - Joel Miller x ftm! Reader

Word Count: 5,849 Rating: 18+ mdni Warnings: brief talks about gender dysphoria as it relates to sex, amab terminology for afab genitalia, reader is on T and has bottom growth, reader has top surgery scars, oral sex, rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, Joel sucks the strap Betas: my literal soulmates @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar thank you so much for all your help and feedback on this 💕

Joel, 41

New to dating and to men. Recent empty nester trying to figure things out.

It wasn’t promising, this man’s dating profile. But god did he look gorgeous in those three selfies that looked like they were taken on a Motorola Razr— the original one.

Still. You gave him a chance. And now you’re pleasantly surprised by the man he is.

The stoicism is just shyness, you find, a little timid exploring his sexuality for the first time. And the old-fashioned way about him influences his music taste and beer choices— not his ideals.

You knew he was bisexual, but people born in his generation, in Texas, aren’t often open-minded.

You’re surprised, is the thing, about how he’s reacted to you being a trans guy and how he treats you. Like a bro, but better, because he blushes when you tell him he looks nice and gets nervous when he wants to kiss you.

His nerves don’t last too long. He waits a gentlemanly amount of dates before finally accepting your invite inside, and then sucks the life out of you through your t-dick.

When you return the favor, and slip a finger just past his taint, he loses his fucking mind. It’s all you can do to not rub your grubby little hands together and laugh like an evil movie villain.

You gather him up into your arms as he comes down, panting and glistening a delicious sheen of sweat all over. He nuzzles into the scars on your chest and his sigh tickles through the wiry hairs there.

“Never had anyone touch me like that before.”

His voice is gruff, but still wavers with a tint of vulnerability.

“Did you like it?”

Then he laughs, deep chuckles that you feel in your own chest.

“Too much for my own good, I reckon.”

And just like that, a plethora of possibilities stretch out in expanse in your mind’s eye. You’re gonna have so much fun with him.

You give him time to ruminate, send him off with a nice goodnight kiss and plans for another date night.

A movie night. He shows up in gray sweatpants that should be illegal and a tight navy shirt that hugs his arms. You reach out and touch as you greet him with a kiss, and try to will the blood away from your cock so you can at least start the movie.

You’ve got your bedroom all set up. Your bed is a nest of pillows and blankets, the lighting is low with candles and dim lamps, and everything you need is prepped and ready just out of sight in your bedside drawer. It’s all in hopes that it eases his mind, gets him relaxed and cozy enough to enjoy every bit of what you have planned for him.

He smells like oranges and eucalyptus when you snuggle against his side, warm and bright and very clearly freshly showered. He leans into you but his jaw is tight and clenched as the title sequence plays out. You settle your leg on top of his, press your nose even deeper into those slightly graying curls and kiss a spot behind his ear that makes his shoulders go a bit more lax.

You smile against his skin, let your hand splay out over his chest to feel his thumping heartbeat.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ to take advantage of me,” he mumbles.

You chuckle, shift your leg a little higher, and find he’s already starting to fill out the front of his pajamas.

“Maybe you don’t know any better.”

His breath hitches, right there under your palm, stuttering his built chest. It makes you twitch in your briefs and squeeze his solid pec.

He’s been texting you later at night than usual these past few days. You know he’s been touching himself the way you touched him the last time you were together. You know that just last night he came all over his shower tile with two fingers inside himself, thinking about you. He told you this.

But still, he’s bashful now, maybe a little anxious. His foot bounces underneath your shared blanket and his rough, calloused fingers tap a frantic rhythm on your thigh.

“Joel,” you mumble, “are you okay?”

He nods immediately, clearing his throat.

“‘Course I am.”

But his Adam's apple bobs almost comically when he answers, and his lips twitch upward but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s okay if you’re nervous. We don’t have to do anything.”

His head shakes again, fast, and it’s kinda cute how he’s seemingly turned into a bobble head.

“I’m not—” he sighs, squints his eyes closed and leans his head back against your headboard. He huffs and mumbles something that sounds a lot like ‘it’s stupid’ under his breath.

“Not stupid,” you insist.

He opens his eyes back up and they’re so wide and deep brown when they look at you.

“Feel like I’m all bark ‘n no bite, textin’ you about it last night… and now I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

You roll your eyes but you smile at him.

“You think I haven’t done the exact same thing about a million times? It’s practically a queer right of passage.”

He bites at his plush bottom lip. You can’t look away as his teeth release it and leave it glistening in the warm orange lights of your bedroom.

“I want to. Bad. Just— go easy on me.”

You hum, nuzzle back into your spot along his neck.

“I’ll be so gentle, Joel. I’m gonna make it so good for you. All you gotta do is sit back and relax, and tell me what feels good.”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.”

Your smile spreads against his warm skin, and that’s where you start. His ear, the shell of it, the lobe. The taut tendons in his neck as your hand creeps under his shirt. His collarbone, once he’s thrown his shirt off. His nipples, something you have yet to explore, and feel delight all over again when it makes him whine high in the back of his throat. You backtrack just to capture his lips again, let him lick into your mouth and nibble on the tip of your tongue until he begins to liquify under your touch and rock his hips into nothing.

Your hand spans his flank, feels every tensing twitch of his muscles there. He sighs as his tongue curls against yours, and it warms your already heated face. You explore lower, tease at his waistband, and then flatten your palm to dip below. You’re sandwiched between the mattress and his asscheek, fuzzy like a peach and just as plump. When you squeeze it he hums and turns more toward you, allows you better access to knead it.

Arousal trickles through you, oozing slow but steady. Your head swims with it. Foggy, lazy, serene but intense. You roll your hips into him and let yourself make the noises you normally try to suppress, because you want him to know just how much you’re into this too.

But he’s straining against the jersey knit of his sweats, and his lips tremble against yours, and you have to define the line between worship and torture before you get lost in it. So you squirm down his body and watch how his eyes are nearly black, how his lips blush in the lamplight, how his beautiful sturdy chest heaves.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you sigh.

His stomach wavers under your lips, and he huffs and shuts his eyes and bites his lips and he’s perfect.

You nip at his hip bones, marvel at the thin, silky skin there. Following the trail of hair that entices you down, you curl your fingers around his waistband and flutter your gaze up. He’s nodding before you can even focus on his face, tilting his hips up to encourage you.

You unwrap him like a present, a slow anticipation until his cock springs free. The clear string that leaks from his slit reassures you that this quiet, timid Joel is just nervous. That the way he bites his lip when you shove a pillow under his hips is more anticipation than fear.

He’s so beautiful like this. You don’t know where to begin. You kiss the hinge of his thigh, nuzzle into the heady scent of him, close your eyes and then open them again when you realize you don’t want to miss a moment of this. Your nails drag up and down all the sparse hairs above his knee, and you only freeze when you hear a hitch in Joel’s breath above you.

“Okay?” You ask, searching his expression.

He nods and you watch his chest inflate with a purposeful breath.

“Yeah, just… not used to anyone wantin’ me like this.”

God.

His words slice right through you.

“Well… get used to it, cowboy.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes, but his cock pulses next to your face.

Then, you develop a one-track mind, dead set on making Joel feel wanted, just like this, exactly the way he is.

His cock jerks again when you breathe on it, and then once more when you take the head into your mouth. He hisses and you don’t give him time to get his bearings. Just slowly sink down as far as you can and let his groan fill your ears.

You suckle, tease him under your tongue before you pull back and then slowly sink down again.

His noises are going to drive you insane. Surprised gasps, calculated exhales, a little whimper so quiet you know he’s trying not to let it escape.

His hands find your shoulders, squeezing and releasing, over and over, like a nervous tick. It only encourages you to take more of him and to bob your head faster. You start to drool from the effort, and you catch it in your hand and caress it over his sac. He makes another one of those noises and you press down into the mattress to alleviate even a fraction of the tension.

Slowly, like you’re trying not to spook him, you work your fingers behind his balls, to that smooth strip of skin just behind it. His thighs clench, and his hips twitch, and he curses above you in a low, gravelly tone.

You reach farther back, but before you make it to the fun part, he’s pushing on your shoulder to move you off of his cock.

“Careful–” he gasps, “gettin’ so close already.”

He looks bashful when your gaze flickers up to him. You just smile, and tell him to breathe, and place teasing kisses over his thighs. When you feel his muscles release their strain, you sneak a hand under his knee. He gets with the program, planting his foot flat on the bed, and then the other.

“You’re doing so good,” you whisper, almost scared to tell him, hesitant to lay it on too thick.

The way his thighs tremble on either side of your head tells you he’s more than fine with it.

You take one of his balls into your mouth, swirl abstract patterns with your tongue until his cock starts to jerk above you. You kiss between them, nuzzle them with your nose. It’s hard to snap yourself out of it. You’d be so content to lie here for hours and revere every nook and cranny of him.

But Joel’s shaking with anticipation, and you’re harder than you’ve ever been in your entire life. So you sink yourself lower into the mattress and crane your neck and lick one long stripe across his hole.

“Jesus fuckin’– shit.”

His legs wobble, threatening to trap your face between them.

“That okay?”

“Yes! Yeah, god… Didn’t think I’d like that so much.”

You’re able to hide your smirk from him, but you know he hears your dark chuckle.

“Good. Just… relax, yeah?”

He hums in agreement. His hand stops fisting the sleeve of your shirt and smoothes it out instead. Something about it makes your heart pound harder and feel twice as heavy.

Without the element of surprise, you’re able to coax his cheeks apart with your thumbs. You stroke the hairs there, finer than other places on his body, almost soft. You gently brush against his hole and it spasms under your touch.

Beautiful.

You don’t mean to say it out loud, but you do, and Joel huffs and tells you to shut up in the weakest voice you’ve ever heard come from him. But you yield. Your mouth has so much more to offer, anyway.

His hole flutters against your tongue and you groan at the feeling of it. Already so eager for you. You flick against it, rapid, and then press flat to feel how he responds. It makes him whine, all hoarse and high-pitched. The sounds make you ache. You want to be inside of him so bad it’s bordering on painful.

Joel shares the sentiment. You stiffen your tongue and he sucks you in, his tight rim squeezing around you.

“Christ almighty,” he breathes.

You chuckle against him. It almost sounds like he is praying; his voice is full of awe and begging for mercy. He chuckles too, though it’s choked and thick in his throat. It warms you, makes you feel floaty as you get back to lapping him up and spearing him on your tongue.

He feels so good. He’s warm and soft, and becomes pliant so much quicker than you thought he would. He urges you on with weak little pleas, with the crude hitches in his breath. He even grinds down into you, begging, as some of his pre-cum dribbles onto your cheek.

“More,” he says.

It doesn’t register at first. You’re too busy trying to get your tongue as far into him as possible. But soon enough he says it again, louder and unmistakable.

You wonder what you look like to him when you finally retreat from between his thighs. You can feel your own saliva drying on your cheeks and chin, feel your chest heaving like you’ve just run a goddamn marathon.

“You want more?”

He just nods, and takes his cock in his hand.

You’re overdressed, you realize. In too much of a hurry to get him where you wanted him that you didn’t even level the playing field. So you shed your clothes in haste, unceremoniously, wiping your mouth with your shirt before throwing it elsewhere, and wiggling out of your pants without much grace. But it doesn’t seem to bother Joel, your inelegance. In fact, the way he’s looking at you makes him look like he’s hungry, or possessed. It makes a whole new swath of flames engulf you.

He sits up, and you want to protest, tell him to just take it easy, that it’s all about him. But he grabs you before you can even open your mouth. His big, calloused hand lands on the back of your neck and he kisses you.

It surprises you, given where you had just been, and the fact that he’s never let anyone do that to him before. But he licks into you like a madman, like he wants to erase any trace of him from your mouth.

It’s also impossible to hide how worked up you are, now. His other hand finds the evidence, your hard t-dick and the slickness right below it that trickles down your thighs. He growls, much more confident now, and gets a few quick strokes in before you’re pushing him back down onto your bed. His brow raises in question, and you tut at him.

“Not right now, big guy. This is about you.”

His mouth is open, breaths puffing out fast and heavy. His eyes travel up and down your body again, so tangible that it makes you shiver.

“You’re so fuckin’ hot, though.”

And out of all the things you’ve done so far, you may be more flustered than you’ve ever been before. Because usually he’s such a gentleman about it, calls you handsome, or a looker, or something equally as cliche and old-fashioned. But now it seems that all the push he needed to let his guard down was a hearty rim job. It’s excellent.

“Ditto,” you smirk, “but I’ve got plans for you.”

He hums, settles back down into the pillows. He watches as you lean over to your bedside table, curious, but not curious enough to ruin the surprise and take a peek. You just retrieve the lube anyways and settle down beside him. One last time before your hands get messy, you dote on him, swipe his hair off of his damp forehead and thumb at the bald patch in his beard.

“You wanna take my fingers now?”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. He just nods and gapes at you.

You readjust, get him to hike his opposite knee up and then slide his other thigh between your legs. You curse at the sweet pressure and friction, and he encourages you by pressing into you harder and groaning. You hand him the lube and in a team effort he pumps it out onto your middle and ring fingers. You notice his shaking hand, but you don’t comment once he reaches down to lift his package out of the way. Still just nervous. It’s endearing.

“Just breathe, okay?”

He does, a slow breath through his nose, and his exhale tickles your forehead. You smile at him, and he smiles back, but closes his eyes when your fingers slip between his cheeks.

You find it instantly, tight and quivering under the pad of your finger. He takes another breath, much quicker than the last, sucked through his nostrils in surprise. His head digs into the pillow under him now, and you apply gentle pressure until he finally lets you in.

It’s just one finger for now, but he still gasps and digs his nails into your back. You kiss where you can reach easily, the smooth skin of his collar bone, and press deeper. You feel his forehead press against the top of your own. He clenches around your finger when you pull it out just slightly, and relaxes when you press back in.

“That’s it,” you tell him.

He whimpers, and you fuck him softly, just with one, just to get him used to the friction. You grind into his leg and bite the skin of his pec when arousal jolts through you. It feels fucking amazing, syncing the motion of your hips to the pace of your finger. You’re going to get to fuck him soon, and the anticipation only turns you on more.

You tilt your head up to look at Joel. His eyes are closed, and his lips are pursed, like he’s concentrating. It would be cute if you didn’t have a raging hard-on for him.

“How’s it feel, Joel?”

His breath catches in his windpipe when he tries to speak. He clears his throat.

“Better than when I did it.”

You quirk your eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. You’re more gentle.”

That makes you laugh, and he chuckles too. You kiss him, just because you want to, like every single part of your body needs to touch his. And a little bit to distract him, because you slip a second finger into him. This time when he moans, you feel it against your mouth, right before his teeth sink into your bottom lip.

His breaths are shaky with pleasure. You can feel it in the way starts to rock his hips, the way he starts to stroke his cock again. He pulls away from your kiss and his head rolls back and forth with his eyes closed tight. He’s mewling through every exhale, uninhibited, a string of vocal indulgence– needy. There’s a vein in his neck that’s engorged and obscene, but that’s not what you want to look at, however enticing it may be. He’s turned away from you, stuffing his face into the pillow, and that just won’t do.

“Don’t hide,” you tell him.

He huffs, a high-pitched and weak noise sneaking out as his back arches. But he doesn’t turn back toward you. Cruelly, you press your fingers deeper and curl them, and your pillowcase falls from between his teeth as he cries out.

“C’mon, I wanna see how good I’m making you feel.”

That does it. He whips his head back toward you and his brows draw together.

“Fuck. It’s– s’good.”

He grinds down into your fingers and his mouth hangs open. You don’t let up, keep stroking against his prostate. He feels incredible around you, squeezing your fingers rhythmically. And he looks gorgeous, clearly stunned by this new discovery inside of him. When you glance down, he’s grasping the base of his dick, and it’s drooling down the shaft.

“You take it so good,” you respond.

He does. So open and accepting for someone so new. It’s got your chest feeling so sticky.

“Will you… fuck me?”

Your hand slows to a stop, still snug inside of him, but he continues.

“Wanna feel it. Want you inside me.”

And god, his eyes are so big and wide that you feel like you can see into his soul. He’s being so vulnerable, and for you.

“You sure you’re ready?”

He just nods and tilts his hips, as if to prove a point.

“I have to… y’know.”

You tilt your head toward the bedside table, and he nods in understanding. You gently pull out of him, and his hips jolt when you slip from his heat, but he’s still watching you with so much… so much in his eyes that you can’t decipher any of it.

All you know is now you feel awkward, all of a sudden. You wipe your hand on your discarded shirt, and then pull open your drawer, and it’s so annoying, honestly, to go through these next few steps. You feel like every second you take is wasting Joel’s heat and eagerness and arousal.

But maybe you’re overthinking it. Because as you step into your harness straps, Joel’s gaze is focused and intense. He’s slowly jerking himself off as he watches you pull it up your legs and into place. When you work on securing the first buckle, he reaches out to hold it in place for you.

It makes your breath catch in your lungs, the way his big, rough hands are so gentle as he helps you along. All the while his gaze makes you feel like he wants to eat you alive. Like this isn’t an inconvenience for him, like it doesn’t make you any lesser than. Like he’s into you, all of you.

You retrieve your smallest cock. On the thinner side, only four inches, and you think it’ll be perfect for easing him into this. A breath shudders out of him when you’ve secured it through the o-ring and he looks you up and down.

But then he’s moving, flipping onto his stomach and crawling to the edge of the bed where you stand. His eyes dance from your eyes, to your cock, and it’s like slow motion when his tongue peeks out to lick at his lips. When he looks back up at you, his puppy eyes are unbearable.

“You look so good. Been thinkin’ ‘bout it since our last date.”

It makes you throb, makes all the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention. You don’t know what to say.

“Can I suck it?”

“Shit,” you breathe, like the wind’s been knocked out of you, “you don’t have to.”

“Want to,” he mumbles.

His hands find your outer thighs respectively, but he’s still looking up at you for permission.

“Of course,” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair, “go ahead.”

You take that last half-step toward him and he opens his mouth wide. He sticks his tongue out and maintains eye contact and it doesn’t look like he’s never sucked a dick before. In fact, it looks like he gets paid good money to do it on camera. Christ.

He licks you first, just under the head, then swirls around it. He even places the gentlest kiss to the tip and it makes your heart flutter like his eyelashes do. He only closes his eyes when he wraps his lips around it and sucks, cheeks hollow, like a goddamn pro.

And you can’t feel it, but you can feel it. You can feel him taking you, receiving you, wanting you, just as much as you want him. The way he slowly sinks down on it is grateful– devotion.

He squeezes your thighs, and he goes as far as he can, until his nose presses against your belly and he’s gagging. Even then, he only pulls back a little, keeps you there in his mouth all safe and snug. It’s so much, maybe too much right now, on top of all this newness.

You tug at his hair a bit, and let him bob up and down a few more times before you pull him off.

His chest rises and falls, and those plush lips are so shiny, and if you don’t fuck him now you might just spontaneously combust.

“I gotta fuck you, Joel.”

He hisses his approval and scrambles back onto the bed.

“How do you want it? You call the shots.”

You stroke your silicone cock as he settles against the pillows again. He even readjusts one under his hips, and that’s enough answer for you to crawl back on top of him.

“Wanna see you,” he whispers.

Your heart palpitates at that, wicked and unruly in your ribcage, but you smile through the piercing feeling.

“Me too.”

The lube is still on his side of the bed. You get between his legs; he spreads them nice and wide for you without you having to ask, presenting himself, totally surrendering to you. It’s becoming super real now, and your gut is starting to swell with that familiar, white-hot pressure.

He startles a bit when your cock presses against his hole. You shush him softly and pet his thigh with one hand while the other squeezes lube out along the length of your cock. You let some drip onto his hole and spread it with your fingers. He sighs and moans and you feel him clench around nothing.

“You ready?”

“Please.”

If you would have told yourself all those weeks ago that ‘Joel, 41, New to dating and to men’ would be on his back for you and begging to take your strap, you’d have laughed in your own face. But now, you sigh as the mushroom head catches on his rim. It’s fascinating to watch how he takes you, how he only resists for a split second before he accepts you in. And when you slip in, you really slip in.

He pants and whines as you stop halfway. There’s a plea that hardly gets to leave his lips before you’re balls deep, just like that, thighs pressed to the back of his. His head is thrown back when you finally glance up, cock still rock hard, but his brows are drawn together and he’s holding his breath.

“Okay?”

He nods.

“Yeah, yes– shit.”

You watch his Adam's apple wiggle in his throat, and you’re not completely convinced.

“Tell me if you want to stop.”

“I don’t.”

It’s the most commanding he’s sounded all night, and hits you hard right where it counts.

Finally, you pull out and then thrust back in. It’s slow and it’s careful but that doesn’t keep it from feeling fantastic, euphoric, right. He keens, and it’s his enthusiasm that sends another shockwave through your nervous system. It’s doing it for him, and that does it for you.

You keep your thrusts controlled, full of purpose, letting him warm up. You know you look ridiculous, your jaw dropped in awe as you stare down between your bodies. He’s taking your cock like it’s the easiest thing in the world, moaning for it. His hands tighten in the sheets beside him, and loosen, and tighten again. You feel so powerful knowing you’re the one that gets to give him this, that he wants it from you.

“So full,” he mumbles.

Your eyes snap back up to his face. He’s watching you, how your stomach tenses and your hips grind into him. You wish you could film him, and the way you disappear into him and stretch him wider than he’s ever been before, so he can see how incredible he is.

“Good full?”

He huffs out a laugh and nods his head.

“Can go faster.”

The way his voice sounds so broken and gruff makes you bite your lip.

Humming, you obey, gripping his hip for leverage, and that alone makes him groan before you’ve even changed pace. You tip over him a bit, rest your hand on the mattress beside his neck so you can feel the heat radiate from his body. You press a kiss to his chest, and you’re not sure if that’s what makes him whimper, or if it’s the way you snap your hips into his for the first time.

He curses, calls out your name in a broken moan. You’d be worried it’s too much too fast if it weren’t for the way he hooks his leg up around your hip. Now the angle is easier, lets you grind into him at a quicker pace. The pressure isn’t quite where you need it to be, too high up on your mound to press against your cock underneath. But the steady slapping into his ass sends enough vibration between your legs that it’s making you dizzy anyways.

Your hips start to ache a bit from the effort, but the sounds he’s making help you ignore the twinges in your joints. He’s more vocal than he’s ever been, rhythmic whines and moans falling from his bitten lips like you’re fucking them right out of him.

“You think you can come like this?” you ask him.

You shove your hips into him harder, teasing a bit, and he shouts as his head knocks back against the pillow.

“Tryin’ pretty hard not to.”

“Shit, Joel.” You press your face into the hollow of his neck and taste the salty skin there. “You don’t have to hold back. You’re taking me so good, you feel so fucking good.”

He whimpers, and you feel his hand snake between your bodies. Your rhythm falters a bit so you can pull back and give him room. His leg is still hiked up around your hip, so you grab him at the knee and push it toward his chest. He moans his approval, eyes shut tight, mouth hanging open, so you do the same with his other leg. This way, you can really pound into him, as deep as possible, and he loves it. You watch with unabashed heat in your eyes as you bounce him on your strap, as his hand works over his dripping cock in a blur of tan skin.

“Haah– shit, shit, ah fuck.”

He sounds so fucking good. You encourage him to let it out, to let go, and he follows your commands so perfectly.

“‘M gonna come, harder, fuck me, fuck me–”

You’re so close yourself, hearing him beg for you. Though your thighs are trembling, you fuck him harder, pull nearly all the way out every time before you piston back in. His face is all screwed up, eyes clenched tight and his bottom lip between his teeth until finally

He lets go. His jaw drops around a surprised shout, and his back arches, and he comes completely unraveled. He shakes with it as his cock shoots stripe after stripe of his release, up his chest, over his stomach, even his neck. You fuck him through it until his hand slows over his cock and his eyes open, nonplussed, and he’s whimpering and tapping out against your thigh.

“So good, Joel. So fucking hot,” you praise him through labored breaths. “Gonna pull out slow, just relax.”

He does, as much as possible in his state, and as soon as his fluttering hole releases you you’re scrambling to release the buckles of your strap. It’s all you can do to push it low enough down your thighs that it’s out of the way. You half-collapse onto Joel, your face against his sternum as you jerk yourself off. It’s pathetic how little time it takes, just a few strokes and you’re babbling at him, eulogizing him as your orgasm flushes through your system.

Then it’s just the sound of the both of your labored breaths, and the TV you forgot was even on in the first place. You let the afterglow wash over you like a gentle summer breeze, until you feel Joel’s stomach shake under your face.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. You know this is common, but it still sends you a bit on edge when you look up and Joel’s got his arm draped over his eyes. You see a teardrop trickling down the side of his face and scramble to pull yourself up and lie next to him.

“You okay, Joel?”

He nods and takes a deep breath in.

“Better’n okay. Dunno why–”

“It’s okay, I know. It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

He just nods under the comfort of his arm.

“Happens to me, too, sometimes. It’s normal when it’s intense. Did it feel good?”

He laughs, all wet and thick, but he uncovers his eyes to look up at you.

“So fucking good.”

You smile at him, gently place your hand on the side of his neck, and kiss away the salt water on his cheeks. He lets you with a dazed smile on his face, before he captures your lips with his own.

You stroke at the sweat on his chest, at the trembling muscles of his stomach, until you feel him settle and fall lax against the mattress. You don’t go far, just enough to grab the towel you set up in your drawer. He watches you with lazy eyes as you clean him up, just enough to be comfortable lying here for a while longer before getting up for a shower.

His breaths still come out shaky when you pull him to you, settle him right on top of your gooey heart. You stroke his hair, and he laughs at something on the TV, and you let yourself hope for a million more nights exactly like this one.

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