#I found a cozy quiet spot on campus

[bluevaractyl]

I love naps so much

[st-eve-barnes]

Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)

Chapter 6 (the final one)

Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?

This chapter: Basically angst central, confrontations all around, things get worse before they get better. And smut of course ;)

Word count: +5000

Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male & fem receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.

Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol)

This is the last chapter and I want to thank everyone for all the love on this fic! I really did not expect this little nerd to be so popular but I guess he owns us all❤️ I hope you guys like the ending, I feel like I edited too much but I really needed to send it into the world now so I can move onto another muse ;)

Read the first chapters Here

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

The rain was pouring down hard over Oxford that week, it was barely three in the afternoon yet it was almost completely dark outside.

Inside the Bodleian library the lights were cozy and warm. It was quiet except for a handful of students sitting at the tables to read and study.

You and Michael were doing neither of those. Instead you were hiding in the back between two book shelves, his hand tangled into your hair while his lips trailed a path down your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses all over your skin.

He had your back pressed up against his chest, trapping you between him and the books.

“Fuck,” he breathed into your ear,”I just wanna push that skirt up and shove my cock into you right here.”

To accentuate his words he moved his hips, pushing his rock hard erection against your ass.

“You wouldn’t,” you finally managed to speak, your words contradicting your actions because you were grinding back against him just as desperately.

Michael used your hair to pull you back against him, his lips grazing the shell of your ear as he whispered,”I will if you beg me.”

His hand moved from your hip down to your thighs and in between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties, his fingers pushing just hard enough to let you feel him. He smirked at the wetness pooling through the fabric.

“Wet means you want me, right?” he teased, kissing your neck again,”Come on, sweetheart.”

“I am not going to beg, Michael, we’re in the fucking library,” you objected in a heavy whisper.

You wanted him to stop, but you also didn’t. You never should have followed him back here. You were a bad influence on him, you were both a bad influence on each other.

“Oh, so you don’t want my cock?” Michael asked with a little teasing chuckle.

He started kissing the spot right below your ear while his hand slipped inside your panties.

And again you were not stopping him, your brain was yelling at you to quit it right now and step back but your body clearly wasn’t on board with that plan.

“Michael…not in here,” you protested but then you moaned when his fingers found your clit. He circled it slowly and so skillfully you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud.

He was laughing into your ear now,”Sweetheart, stop pretending, you are fucking soaked.”

You moaned again,”God, Michael, please.” 

Were you begging him to stop or to keep going? You couldn’t tell anymore, you were completely at his mercy at this point.

The nerd you had sex with for the first time less than two months ago was no longer, this Michael was a whole new man and he was the one in control now. 

You had created a monster. A monster you wanted to fuck every hour of every day.

“Michael,” you whimpered,”We shouldn’t do this in here…”

Your protest was weak and you both knew it. There was nobody around in the area of the library where you two were but you could hear voices of other students and staff way too close for comfort. If anyone caught you two the consequences could be severe, you could both lose your scholarship and get kicked out of the university.

Yet Michael didn’t seem to care at all, making no attempts to stop or slow down as he pushed a finger inside of you and made you grab the bookshelves in front of you for support.

“Fuck,” you moaned,”Why do you feel so fucking good?”

He grabbed your neck with his free hand and started kissing your shoulders while he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you, thumb teasing your clit. 

“I learned from the best,” he whispered into your ear.

“We could get kicked out,” you tried to object again but Michael just added another finger and ignored your plea, his warm mouth sucking bruises into your skin.

“Please,” you tried again,”Michael…please, we have to stop, it’s not worth….fuck…”

“I don’t care,” he moaned softly against your neck,”I’m going to fuck you right here…if we get caught we get caught…fuck it.”

You’re not sure why exactly those words made you come back down to reality but you were quick to grab his hand and finally really stop him this time.

“No. Stop,” you insisted and this time Michael obeyed instantly, sensing the urgency in your tone.

He pulled back, letting you turn around to face him. “What’s wrong?” he asked, confused.

“You do care,” you pointed out, looking into his eyes,”You could lose your scholarship, how can you say you don’t care?”

Michael just shrugged and your only reaction was to hit him on the chest.“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“It’s your fault!” he defended himself,”I want you so bad it makes me stupid.”

You knew he didn’t mean it the way it came out but the words still cut right through you. Michael knew he fucked up. He moved his hand through his hair and sighed,”I said the wrong thing again, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer,”Come here, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, I’m sorry.”

His lips found yours in a soft kiss and your irritation melted away immediately.

“You’re right,” he then whispered,”I wasn’t thinking, and that isn’t your fault at all, I just…I’ll be more careful around campus, I promise. Are we good? Please tell me we’re good?”

You pressed your forehead against his, smiling softly when he kissed your lips again. ”Yeah, we’re good.”

“I don’t have classes for another two hours. Want to come up to my room and finish this?”

Your lips curled up into an eager smile and you nodded. Michael grabbed your hand and pulled you with him through the library and out into the rain. You stopped a few times on the way to Michael’s apartment to make out in the middle of the street, rain falling down heavily over the both of you but neither of you cared, having only eyes for each other.

As soon as you entered Michael’s room he made good on his promise. Pulling you into his arms and fucking you right there against the wall, his cargo pants down to his ankles and your panties pushed to the side. It was rushed and quick and absolutely perfect.

He made you come three more times that afternoon. Afterwards you both fell asleep on his bed, forgetting all about the studying you both had planned that day.

***

You were having coffee near the university later that week when Michael slipped into the seat opposite you, his blue eyes glowing with mischief.

He didn’t wait for you to greet him before he started rambling,“Okay, so I have this friend of a classmate who’s into IT and some other, less official, computer stuff and I told him about…your issue and he’s convinced he can help us out.’

You looked up at him over your coffee cup.”Define less official? Do you mean illegal?”

“Well,…if he can get into Ben’s computer he can delete every single file on there.”

“You mean hacking. Michael, that’s illegal,” you sighed.

“He’s done it before, it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal?” you asked, shocked,”It’s a literal crime. You’re friends with a criminal now?”

Michael gave you an annoyed glare,”He’s not my friend, and he is not a criminal, he only does this to help people out. What’s wrong? Do you not want my help now?”

“Not if it’s going to get you in trouble.”

“I won’t get in trouble.”

“Okay, I don’t want your acquaintance, the criminal, to get in trouble.”

He couldn’t help but grin at your sassy words but then he was quickly shaking his head,”We won’t get caught, and if we do…it’ll be worth it. I’m not letting that prick ruin your life.”

“What does your not-friend want in return?” you asked.

“Just some tutoring lessons,” he explained.

You sighed deeply, looking up at him.”Michael…”

“Come on, we can fix this, let me fix this for you, baby,” he begged.

“It’s illegal, Michael,” you reminded him.

“I don’t care,” he insisted.

You looked at him, at his honest eyes and the nervous yet excited smile on his lips. His cheeks blushed under your gaze and the cozy nerdy sweater he was wearing made you want to crawl into his lap and cuddle with him. 

He was so eager to help you and play the knight in shining armor. It was the library all over again, he would put all his morals and beliefs aside for you without even thinking twice about it. You knew you should feel flattered but another feeling was rapidly taking over.

The feeling that Michael was undeniably too good for you, and that you could ruin everything he’s ever wanted and worked for. 

And that it had already taken you way too long to put a stop to it.

“I can’t let you do that for me,” you then spoke softly and Michael’s face fell.

“But I want to do this for you,” he reassured you, reaching across the table to grab your hand but you didn’t take his.

“No,” you insisted,”I want you to stop.”

“Stop what? Looking out for you? Trying to protect you against that twat?”

“All of it, Michael,” you sighed,”I want to stop all of it.”

He stared at you, panic now settling in his pretty blue eyes,”All of it?”

You hadn’t even realized it until you heard yourself say the words just now but you knew it was the only way.

“That test is tomorrow, right?” you asked.

Michael nodded, still confused by your words.

“You should take the rest of the day and study.”

“I don’t need to study,” Michael interrupted you,”You know that. I'm a..."

"Genius," you interrupted him right back,"Yes I know. Then take the day to rest and get into focus. I don’t think we should hang out today.”

“Just today or…?” he asked carefully.

“You should focus on what you’re here for, Michael,” you sighed,”We both know that isn’t me.”

“But…”

“You’ve changed,” you continued,”I can see it every day, you’re more and more distracted, you’re taking risks that could impact the rest of your life and…it’s all because of me.”

Michael stayed quiet for a moment.

“Of course it’s all because of you,” he then spoke softly,”And of course I’ve changed, how can I not be? How can I spend all these weeks with you and not have it change me?”

This time you were the one who stayed silent.

“Do you think you haven’t changed?” he asked,”Because if you really haven’t then…what’s the point of all of this? What have we been doing all this time? And don’t say fucking because we both know it was more than that!”

“But it wasn’t,” you lied,”Not to me, Michael.”

You could see the exact moment his heart broke at your words.

“You’re lying,” he whispered.

“No, I’m not,” you shook your head, sounding a lot more convincing than you felt,”I used you, right from the start, and you knew that. You knew what this was."

He was fighting back tears but you couldn't stop now that you'd started.

"I liked how I felt when I was with you but that’s all it was," you added,"And I feel guilty about it now because…I realize it was cruel. And you don’t deserve that. So I’m letting you off the hook.”

“But…I…I don’t want off the hook…I…I really fucking like you…and…fuck,” Michael was struggling to find his words, shaking his head and doing his best to hide his tears from you.

“I don’t like you that way, Michael,” you whispered, as if that would somehow make your words less harsh,”I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I should have never gotten you involved in this. I’m so sorry, I really am.”

Michael was too stunned to say or do anything else but watch you leave. 

You held it together well until the door of the coffee shop closed behind you. For once you were grateful for the rain, for at least now nobody could see your tears.

***

Weeks passed after that, without Michael. And without Ben, you kept waiting for the bomb to drop, for him to share that video and ruin your last year in Oxford. 

But it didn’t come.

You started going out with your friends again from time to time, and focussed on studying and graduating. For whatever reason Ben had kept his distance from you and as the weeks passed you were starting to forget about the whole thing. Maybe he had been all bark and no bite after all, maybe he never even intended to do anything to begin with and it was all just scare tactics. You felt bad for ever believing him but more than anything you felt relief. It was all over now.

You didn’t see Ben for an entire month, nor did you see Michael.

But without your knowledge they did see each other, once. The day after Michael’s friend of a friend hacked into Ben’s computer.

Michael was sitting in his usual spot in the library when Ben aggressively grabbed a chair and sat right next to him.

Michael kept his calm and didn’t look up to acknowledge him at first.“What do you want?” he then asked, annoyed.

“I fucking know it was you!” Ben hissed.

“You know more than I do then,” Michael stated calmly, still not looking at him.

“I know it was one of those IT computer nerds and all you fucking nerds stick together, it’s fucking obvious.”

Michael finally laid down his pen to look at him, a smug calm smile on his face,”Prove it.”

“If I could I’d have you kicked out already,” Ben sighed annoyed.

Michael just nodded,”Then why are you here?”

Ben moved his chair closer to his and looked into his eyes, his anger replaced by a smug grin,”Because…you overlooked one small thing, genius…I would have thought you computer nerds would follow your own advice but…”

“What…advice?” Michael asked, trying not to show the sudden panic caused by Ben’s words.

“Always have a back up,” Ben stated, making Michael’s stomach twist.

“You have another copy?” he realized.

“I do, yeah,” Ben smiled,”It’s on a hard drive that you guys will never get your hands on.”

“Fuck,” Michael breathed.

Ben leaned back in his chair to look at him, his grin so smug Michael wanted to punch him in the face right there.”So, I just came by to say nice try, loser.”

He got up from the chair and wanted to walk away but Michael was quick to follow him.

“Wait! Is that…is that the only other copy you have?” he asked.

Ben laughed,”It is for now, but as soon as I get my computer up and running again I guess I should make some back ups of my back up. You never know when it could come in handy.”

Michael had to stop himself from punching him in the face but Ben just walked away, not even paying Michael any more attention.

This couldn’t be how it ended, the rich kid does not get to win.

Michael was balling his fists and biting his tongue but he soon realized there was only one other thing he could do, and it played right into Ben’s hand. But it was the only way to destroy the last evidence of that video and have you be free of him.

“I can get you in!” Michael yelled after him, making Ben turn around.

“In where?” Ben asked with a laugh.

“Charter Inc.”

Ben stopped in his tracks to look at him.”You got the job,” he realized.

Michael nodded,”I got the letter last week and I had the interview on Monday.”

“Fuck, I knew I should have heard something by now,” Ben sighed,”Damned!”

“They told me in the interview they’re always on the lookout for new people, asked me if I could recommend anyone.”

“Are you serious right now? Are you making this shit up?”

”I’m serious. And I’ll be happy to recommend you.”

“You would?” Ben laughed.

“No of course not, I’d rather fucking die,” Michael confessed,”But…I’ll do it, if you do two things for me.”

 “Name it.”

“You take me up to your room right now and we destroy that copy.”

“Alright,” Ben sighed,” And the other thing?”

“You leave her alone from now on,” Michael stated firmly,“I promise to do my utter best to get you in if you do these two things for me. You have my word on that. Do we have a deal?”

Ben looked at him and then caved, nodding his head,”Fine, sure, whatever, man. If there’s a chance you can get me the job I always wanted I don’t give a fuck about some stupid sex video. But you’d better not be lying to me, Gavey, or I’m coming for you.”

Michael followed Ben out of the library and into the hallway.“That’s fine, you can come after me all you want, just…leave her alone.”

“Look at you playing the knight in shining armor,” Ben teased,”Why are you doing all this? Didn’t she dump you?”

“Yeah, she did,” Michael whispered.

“Aww, you think she’s gonna come running back into your arms when you tell her how you saved her? That’s pathetic, man.”

“No, I don’t,” he sighed.

“Then why go through all this trouble, dude? You love her or something?”

Michael shook his head and blushed,”You would’t get it.”

He didn’t tell Ben anything else.

And he didn’t tell you anything either. Not then or during the weeks after.

***

It was the day of graduation when you ran into Ben, literally, on your way out of the courtyard. The both of you dressed up to the nines to celebrate. Ben didn’t have the usual smug smile or big mouth on him this time, he just congratulated you and reassured you everything else was in the past, which was of course very easy for him to say as he hadn’t been the one on the receiving end of his empty threats.

But you couldn’t be bothered wasting any more time or thoughts on him so you just congratulated him back and then walked away.

“Hey, how’s Gavey?” he asked before you could turn your back on him.

“I wouldn’t know, I haven’t seen him,” you confessed.

You didn’t want to talk to Ben to begin with and you definitely didn’t want to talk to him about Michael.

“Huh,” Ben looked at you confused for a moment and then smiled,”Oh wait, he never told you, didn’t he?”

“Told me what, Ben?” you asked impatiently,”I swear to god if this is another one of your tricks…”

“It’s not, I don’t…I don’t do that shit anymore, it was stupid and childish.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” you sighed annoyed,”What then?”

“You might want to thank the nerd. You dumped him and he still saved your ass, I guess I underestimated the power of your pussy, I should apologize to her.”

You wanted to punch him in the face again and this time there was nothing or nobody stopping you so you did. Your fist hit him right on the nose and he jumped back with a painful yelp.

“Apology accepted,” you nodded and turned your back on him for the very last time.

***

You searched for over an hour to find Michael, making your way through the partying crowd outside. People were cheering and drinking everywhere and you were about to give up when you suddenly noticed him standing by himself, a proud happy smile on his face as he watched the people around him.

You took a moment to just look at him from a distance. He looked just as awkward and out of place as you remembered, fiddling with his glasses and not getting too close to other people. It reminded you of that first night you’d met with him in the pub.

But despite his awkwardness he also looked genuinely happy and for a moment you contemplated just walking away and letting things be. Clearly he was doing fine without you now. Did you really have the right to put yourself into his life again after months of nothing?

But the choice was taken from you when Michael noticed you. At first he just stared with a blank expression on his face, then his hand lifted in a little hesitant wave. When you waved back he broke into a smile and walked up to you.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and so kind it made your heart soar.

“Hey,” you smiled back, and then without thinking you wrapped your arms around his neck to give him a quick hug.

Michael didn’t freeze this time. Much to your surprise he grabbed your waist to pull you close to him and hug you back, his face buried into your hair. When you pulled him even closer he followed your lead, fully enveloping you into his arms, hands caressing your back and your hair.

You could hear him sigh deeply, holding you tight while he breathed you in.

“How have you been?” he asked eventually, breaking the spell and the hug.

You leaned back to look at him,“I’m okay. You?”

He nodded shyly,”Yeah, I’m okay too.”

“Ben told me what you did.”

“Oh…that was nothing, everyone would have done it.”

You shook your head with a sad smile,”No, they wouldn’t have, Michael, especially not after what I did…I don’t deserve any of it. I was horrible to you.”

He just gave you another smile and shrugged, finally taking his hands off you and it took everything in you not to grab them tight and hold onto him.

”You were just trying to get yourself out of a difficult situation,” Michael spoke,”I’m not mad, I never was. What happened…happened.”

His kindness only made you feel even more sad.

“And it all turned out for the best, I guess?” he then added,”Ben’s gone, you’re free of him. And of me…and I’m no longer a virgin. We all won in the end, didn’t we?”

“Did we?” you sighed quietly.

Michael’s eyes rested on yours, genuinely confused by your words,”Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t…seem okay.”

You bit your lip but it was too late, tears had started falling from your eyes and you couldn’t stop them. You did your best to wipe them away quickly.

Michael stepped closer to you, looking deeper into your eyes while hesitantly placing a hand back on your waist,”What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

You bit your lip and shook your head, looking down to avoid his eyes but Michael placed a hand in your neck and forced you to look at him.

“Tell me,” he insisted, softer.

You nodded but then shook your head,”Not here.”

“Okay,” Michael agreed,”Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” you whispered.

***

Michael’s room was as immaculately clean as ever, some things clearly never changed. His suitcase was packed next to the bed, ready to leave Oxford, and you, behind.

“I’d offer you some tea but I already packed everything, I’m sorry,” Michael apologized,”Was going to head on home right after graduation.”

“You weren’t going to stay and celebrate?”

“With who?” he laughed bitterly and sat down on the sofa, eyes avoiding yours. You followed his lead and sat down next to him.

“I’m glad you got the job,” you said to break the silence between you two.

Michael nodded. “I’m not sure if it’s what I want yet.”

“Why not?” you asked surprised.

He shrugged.”It’s a big corporate firm, biggest of the country, I’d be settled for life if I do well there but…I don’t know, been thinking a lot about life and what I want lately.”

You looked at him and he didn’t hesitate to look back this time,”Being with you changed me, Y/N,” he then confessed,”I know that’s not what you want to hear but…it's a good thing. Even if it didn't end the way I'd hoped. The change is still good, and I'll never be sorry.”

“Being with you changed me too,” you confessed, shutting him up,”I’ve been trying to deny it for so long because...it's scary as fuck. But you were right, being with the right person should change you.”

Michael held your gaze, his lips curling up into the tiniest of smiles.”I was the right person for you?” he then whispered.

You nodded, unable to deny it any longer.”I think you still might be,” you sighed.

Michael didn’t speak, he only stared at you for the longest time with a serious expression on his face.

“I miss you,” you added in a whisper, tears forming in your eyes but they didn’t get a chance to fall this time because Michael caught them. His hand gently cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin and then he pressed his lips to yours in a soft lingering kiss.

“I miss you too,” he breathed,”Missed you every day since you left.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue searching for yours and when you moaned into the kiss his hands moved down to your waist, pulling you close to him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down on top of you on the couch and he followed eagerly, lips never leaving yours as he took his rightful spot in between your legs, where he belonged.

You kissed for several minutes, making up for lost time. Michael’s weight on you felt so perfect, his hands were soft as they made their way underneath your dress, pulling your panties down, just enough so he could slip his fingers underneath the thin fabric. 

You moaned his name when he started circling your clit, hips bucking up against his hand immediately, seeking his touch.

“Please,” you whimpered,”Please, I need you.”

“Hmm, I can tell,” Michael smirked,”My fingers are soaking wet and I’ve barely touched you, you missed me that much, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help but smile in relief at the use of his pet name and the sudden confidence in him,”Yes,” you confessed,”I’ve missed you that much.”

The big grin on Michael’s face made you smile even more and just before he was about to slip a finger inside of you, you grabbed his hand to stop him, eyes locking with his.”No, not your hand this time,” you breathed and leaned in to whisper into his ear,”I need your cock.”

Michael whimpered at your words. You could have cried with how good it felt to hear those sounds coming out of his mouth again. You kissed him and your hands moved down over his ass, pushing his pants down and freeing his erection. You didn’t want to waste any more time so your hand wrapped around his length to stroke him, slow but firm, making him moan and whimper some more.

“Fuck, you’re killing me,” Michael whined,”I need…I need to be inside of you, please.”

You bit your lip and smiled, pressing your forehead to his.”I forgot how pretty you are when you beg,” you teased him, aligning the head of his cock with your entrance. 

For a long moment neither of you moved, Michael just looked at you, his eyes filled with so much longing. His thumb brushed your chin and then he placed a featherlight kiss to your lips.

“Open up to me,” he whispered and you obeyed, opening your mouth to allow him to kiss you deeper. He pushed his tongue inside of you at the same time his cock slipped into your welcoming walls.

He didn’t fuck you right away, instead he took his time just kissing you, slow and deep while he bottomed out, filling you up to the hilt. You tried to move your hips but Michael’s hand kept you in place. You wouldn’t be able to stand it for much longer, you needed friction, needed to feel him.

“Shhh,” he shook his head,”Stop fighting me.”

You whimpered in protest but nodded your head.

“Why did you come looking for me today?” he then asked.

“Michael,” you whined,”Seriously, you wanna talk now?”

“Answer the question,” he insisted.

“Fuck,” you breathed,”You know why.”

He gently cupped your cheek, taking the time to control his own breathing. You knew he was struggling just as much as you were but he seemed determined to see this through.

“Want to hear you say it,” he whispered.

“I missed you,” you confessed.

“Me? Or my cock?”

“Both.”

He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at your answer.“So, what? You want one last good fuck before we both go our separate ways and you tell me to fuck off again?” he then asked and with that question his confidence crumbled. 

And suddenly it was all you could see, not the confident man but that shy insecure boy who’d never been kissed, who turned your world upside down just by being his weird, amazing self. The boy who always said the absolute wrong thing at the wrong time. He was still right there.

The boy who fundamentally changed you. Your lips curled up into a smile and you shook your head.

“No,” you cupped his face with both hands,”I don’t want one good fuck. I want all of them, every single day, from now on, with you. If you still want me.”

Michael’s eyes closed in a heavy, relieved sigh as he leaned into you, letting you pull him into your arms.

“I still want you,” he breathed. 

It didn’t take long after that for him to finally start moving, bucking his hips against yours, slowly but with an undeniable desperation to it. The both of you were clinging to each other, breathing in each other’s moans and then Michael took up the pace, fucking you deeper and faster.

It didn’t take long for you to fall apart and Michael followed suit quickly, spilling himself deep inside of you with another delicious whine before he collapsed in your arms.

The room was quiet after that, nothing but your heavy breaths mingling and Michael’s heartbeat fast against yours. He kissed your jaw and your neck, lazy and soft until he could feel you smile against his cheek. He took off his fogged up glasses to look at you properly, the happiest of smiles on his face, warming your heart.

“So, got any plans for the summer?” you asked.

“Yeah, I do now,” he smirked before placing another lingering kiss in your neck,”You.”

[lunardragon00]

Don't Wanna Break Up Again (Seonghwa x Reader)

Eternal Sunshine Masterlist

BF!Seonghwa x Reader

Authors Note: Hey guys, sorry this is coming out a bit late. I wanted to post it earlier last week but then I had a new idea for the story, so I had to rewrite everything. I hope you enjoy!!

I don't wanna fuck with your head It's breakin' my heart To keep breakin' yours again

Seonghwa and Y/N's love story began like a scene from a romantic movie, set against the backdrop of a bustling college campus. They met at a mutual friend's party, their eyes locking across the crowded room as if drawn together by fate. Y/N was immediately captivated by Seonghwa's warm smile and gentle demeanor, while Seonghwa found himself drawn to Y/N's infectious laughter and kind heart.

Their connection was instant, sparks flying as they talked late into the night, sharing dreams, aspirations, and secrets they had never dared to confide in anyone else. From that moment on, they were inseparable, spending every spare moment together exploring the city, trying new foods, and discovering shared passions.

As their love blossomed, so did their dreams for the future. After graduating from college, they took the leap and moved into a cozy apartment together, transforming it into a sanctuary of love and laughter. Y/N pursued her passion for baking, working tirelessly at a small bakery shop while dreaming of one day opening her own store. Seonghwa, with his unwavering support and encouragement, embarked on a promising career at a prestigious company, his ambition matched only by his dedication to Y/N.

For five blissful years, they navigated life's ups and downs hand in hand, weathering every storm that came their way with unwavering love and devotion. Their apartment became more than just a place to live; it was their sanctuary, a haven where they could escape the chaos of the outside world and revel in the joy of each other's company.

But as time went on, cracks began to form in their seemingly perfect relationship. Seonghwa's demanding job at the office grew increasingly demanding, consuming more and more of his time and energy. Long nights turned into early mornings, and Y/N found herself waking up alone in their bed more often than not, the warmth of Seonghwa's presence replaced by the cold emptiness of their apartment.

Despite her best efforts to be understanding and supportive, Y/N couldn't shake the growing sense of loneliness that gnawed at her heart. She missed Seonghwa, missed the sound of his laughter, the touch of his hand, the comfort of his embrace. 

Which is where she's found herself once again, woken up by the sun shining through the curtains and the spot on the bed next to her untouched and cold. Seeing his side of the room is already neat, she can tell he'd left for work a long time ago. Checking her phone, she sees his message. 

- Hi baby, sorry I had to leave early, they called me in last minute. There's a omelet in the fridge if you're hungry. - 

Y/N's footsteps echoed softly in the quiet apartment as she made her way to the bathroom, the cold tiles beneath her feet a stark reminder of the emptiness that filled her heart. She couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as she read Seonghwa's message, his absence once again a painful reminder of the growing distance between them.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pushed aside her feelings of resentment and loneliness, determined to face the day ahead with a brave face. As she stood in front of the bathroom mirror, she couldn't help but notice the tired lines that marred her reflection.

With practiced ease, Y/N went through the motions of her morning routine, the familiar tasks providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos of her thoughts. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and pulled her hair into a messy bun, each action a silent prayer for strength and resilience.

As she made her way to the kitchen, the scent of Seonghwa's cooking lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of happier times when they would share lazy Sunday mornings together, lost in each other's company. With a heavy heart, Y/N opened the fridge and retrieved the omelet Seonghwa had left for her. She sat alone at the kitchen table, the silence of the apartment pressing in around her, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that consumed her. She missed Seonghwa, missed the warmth of his presence, the sound of his laughter, the touch of his hand against hers.

But most of all, she missed the love they once shared, the connection that had once bound them together like two souls intertwined in an unbreakable bond. And as tears welled up in her eyes, Y/N couldn't help but wonder if their love was strong enough to weather the storm that threatened to tear them apart. Sure, they had their hardships, but they were stronger then this. Ever since Seonghwa got that promotion at work, he's been busy nonstop. 

She feels guilty, she was so proud of him when he told her the news, she even went out and bought a cake so they could celebrate when he got home later that night. At first, things were as they always were, completely normal. But within the past 3 months, it's like she no longer has a boyfriend. 

She knew Seonghwa's dedication to his work was one of the qualities she admired most about him, but lately, it felt as though their relationship had been pushed to the sidelines in favor of his career ambitions. As she took a hesitant bite of the omelet, the taste of loneliness lingered on her tongue, the once-familiar flavors now tainted by the bitter taste of disappointment. She couldn't help but replay the countless missed dinners, canceled plans, and late nights spent waiting for Seonghwa to come home.

But despite the growing resentment that gnawed at her heart, Y/N couldn't bring herself to blame Seonghwa entirely. She knew he was under immense pressure at work, juggling deadlines, meetings, and endless responsibilities with an unwavering determination that both inspired and frustrated her.

She wanted to believe that they were stronger than this, that their love was unbreakable, but the doubts lingered like shadows in the corners of her mind, threatening to engulf her in darkness.

With a heavy heart, Y/N wiped away her tears and pushed away the omelet, no longer having an appetite. She rose from the table and made her way to the living room, the silence of the apartment pressing in around her like a suffocating blanket. She sank onto the couch, her thoughts consumed by the unanswered questions that lingered between her and Seonghwa, their relationship hanging precariously in the balance.

But amidst the darkness that threatened to consume her, a flicker of determination sparked within Y/N's heart. She refused to let their love be swallowed by the shadows, refused to give up on the bond they shared, no matter how daunting the obstacles that lay ahead.

With renewed resolve, Y/N reached for her phone and dialed Seonghwa's number, her fingers trembling with nervous anticipation. After a few rings, he picked up. 

"Hi my love, everything ok?" Seonghwa's voice was soft, Y/N could hear groups of people talking in the background. 

"Hey, everything's fine. You left early this morning." Y/N fiddled with a loose string on her hoodie, or, more like Seonghwa's hoodie. 

"I know, I know I'm sorry. It's just - yeah hang on a second - It's just we have that big presentation I told you about coming up, there's a lot of last minute things we need to do." Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. 

"Presentation? What presentation?" She asked. Suddenly, she heard a man's voice shout to Seonghwa, saying to just call that person back later, that the project was more important. 

"Look baby I'm sorry, but I have to go. The guys are yelling at me." Y/N's heart sunk.

"Wait, I just have one question. Do you remember what day it is?" Her heart was racing, she prayed and hoped that maybe, just maybe, he'll prove her wrong. 

"It's Sunday, seriously Y/N I've got to go, ok? I love you, I'll call you back later." Before she could respond he hung up the phone. Y/N's heart sank as Seonghwa's hurried words echoed in her ears, the weight of disappointment settling heavily in her chest. She had hoped that their conversation would provide some clarity, some reassurance that their love was still strong despite the distance that threatened to tear them apart.

But as she stared down at the phone in her hand, the realization dawned on her like a punch to the gut. With trembling hands, Y/N set the phone down on the coffee table, her mind swirling with a whirlwind of emotions. She couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt and betrayal at Seonghwa's dismissal of her question, his priorities clearly lying elsewhere as he brushed her off with casual indifference.

He forgot, he's been so caught up with work he forgot. She wanted to call in back, she wanted to scream that no, it wasn't just any regular Sunday, it was their Sunday. Five years, five years they have been together and not once had they missed an anniversary. Today would mark when he took her on their first date. She knows that for some people, it's not a big milestone a couple would celebrate years down the road, but for them it was. 

Y/N remembers that day like the back of her hand. It had been a month after they initially met. Both of them didn't really have money back then to splurge at a restaurant, so they went to a convenience store and bought ramen that they made back at her dorm. It was the start of their journey together, what got them to where they are now. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at the realization that their once cherished traditions had been forgotten.

She took a deep breathe and tried to slow down her thoughts. Ok, things had been busy, yes. She knows he's been pulling all nighters for the past few weeks, he's under a lot of stress right now. So, it should be expected his mind is not on top of things right now....right? 

Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, Y/N set about preparing a special surprise for Seonghwa, a reminder of the love they had shared and the memories they had created together over the years. She rummaged through their closet, searching for the perfect outfit, and went out to buy a bouquet of flowers for the dining table. Later in the afternoon, she messaged him asking what time he was planning on coming home. Once he responded, saying he's planning to leave at 5, she compiled a list of ingredients and shopped for groceries to cook for the night. 

And as she waited for Seonghwa to return home, her heart filled with hope and anticipation, Y/N couldn't help but cling to the belief that their love was strong enough to weather any storm, that no matter how far apart they may feel, they would always find their way back to each other in the end. For their love was not just a fleeting moment in time, but a bond that transcended the trials and tribulations of everyday life, a love that would endure for eternity.

"Hey, why don't you go home and get some rest. You look exhausted." Seonghwa peeked up from the pile of paper's he was sorting through. Checking his watch, the time read 10:32pm. Shit, he thought, he hadn't been paying attention to the time. 

"Are you sure? There's still a lot that needs to get done." He asks, looking up at his coworker. The person nods, offering him a kind smile. 

"Yeah, the other guys should be coming back in a minute. Go ahead and head out, I'm sure your girlfriend's waiting on you." Hearing that, Seonghwa gathered all his belongings and waved goodbye to his colleagues. As he walked home, his phone started ringing. Seeing it was his friend, Hongjoong, he answered. 

"Hey bro," He said, adjusting his bag dangling on his side. 

"Hey man, how's your day been?" Seonghwa scoffed.

"A complete shit show, I swear, some of these people are so incompetent. We had to go through every single file to make sure there were no typos or wrong information in them." He heard Hongjoong hum in acknowledgement. 

"Damn, that's rough. Well, at least you got to spend the rest of the day with Y/N, I'm sure that made it better huh? Oh, where is she by the way, I had a baking question for her." Seonghwa's heart sank as Hongjoong's words pierced through the facade of his exhaustion.

"Uh, actually, I'm not sure where she is right now," Seonghwa admitted sheepishly, his footsteps faltering slightly as he navigated the familiar streets on his way home. "I've been so caught up with work that I haven't really had a chance to talk to her today."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, broken only by the distant sounds of traffic and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Seonghwa could practically hear the gears turning in Hongjoong's mind as he processed the significance of his words, the weight of his unintentional neglect hanging heavy in the air between them.

"Oh," Hongjoong finally said, his voice tinged with concern. "I thought you guys were be out at dinner or something."

"Why would we got out? You know she doesn't really like going out in public." Seonghwa was confused on where Hongjoong's assumption came from. Y/N was never really the one to go out and eat unless it was for a special occassion. Typically, her and Seonghwa - mostly Seonghwa while Y/N stays near him and rambles on about a show - cooked at home. 

Another moment of silence, before Hongjoong sighs. "Dude, do you even know what day it is?" Now he was even more confused. 

"It's Sunda- why do people keep asking me that today? Did everyone forget to check their calendar?" Seonghwa chuckles, but it was completely one sided as Hongjoong continued to make no sound. 

"Shit dude, you forgot." Seonghwa stopped in his tracks. He forgot? Forgot what? Questions circled around his head, until he decided to open up his own calendar. His heart sank, heavy with the weight of his own forgetfulness, as Hongjoong's words echoed in his ears like a harsh rebuke. How could he have been so blind, so oblivious to the significance of the day that held such special meaning for both him and Y/N?

"I..." Seonghwa faltered, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the words to convey the depth of his regret. He could practically feel the disappointment radiating through the phone, a tangible reminder of his own shortcomings as a boyfriend. "I'm such an idiot," Seonghwa finally admitted, his voice filled with remorse. "I completely forgot about our anniversary, didn't I?"

There was a heavy silence on the other end of the line, broken only by the sound of Seonghwa's ragged breathing as he awaited Hongjoong's response. He could practically feel the weight of his friend's disappointment pressing down on him like a physical burden, a reminder of the gravity of his mistake.

"Yeah, man," Hongjoong finally said, his voice tinged with sympathy. "You really screwed up this time."

Seonghwa winced at the blunt truth of Hongjoong's words, the sting of his own negligence burning hot in his chest. He knew that he had let Y/N down, that he had failed to show her the love and appreciation she deserved on their special day. And now, as the reality of his mistake settled in like a bitter pill, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of regret for letting her down.

"I have to go." And with that, Seonghwa hung up the phone and tried calling his girlfriend as he rushes home. On his third try calling, he simply gave up and started sprinting. 

Seonghwa unlocked the apartment door, slowly creeping in and noticing all the lights were turned off. Once he flipped the living room light switch, he almost dropped to his knees. On the table, a vase of roses stood tall, decorative plate sheets placed where the two usually ate. A small card sat on the table, the envelope yellow with his name written across on the front with little hearts surrounding it. Placing his bag on the chair, he looked towards the living room. 

On the couch, two pillows were placed intentionally and the blanket they usually shared was spread across. And on the coffee table placed in front, two face masks and two glasses of wine sat on coasters, a bowl of his favorite chips set in the middle. Seonghwa stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as he took in the scene before him.

His eyes lingered on the card sitting on the table, and with trembling hands, Seonghwa reached out and picked up the card. His fingers brushing against the smooth surface as he turned it over to read the message inside. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Y/N's handwriting scrawled across the page, the words written with love and sincerity that brought tears to his eyes.

"Seonghwa," the card read, each letter a testament to the depth of her affection. "I know things have been tough lately, and I just wanted to remind you how much you mean to me. Today marks five years since we shared our first date, and I wanted to celebrate the love and joy you bring into my life every single day. I know you've been busy with work, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, always. I love you more than words can say, and I can't wait to spend many more years by your side. Happy anniversary, my love."

Tears welled up in Seonghwa's eyes as he read the heartfelt words, his heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and regret. How could he have been so blind, so oblivious to the love and devotion that Y/N had shown him despite his own neglect? He felt a lump form in his throat as he realized just how much he had taken her for granted, how little he had done to show her the love and appreciation she deserved.

He made his way towards the bedroom quietly, unsure if she was still awake. He reached for the doornob, but when he went to turn it, it stuck. Seonghwa, confused and exhausted, tried twisting it again but was bet with resistance. Figuring the door had been stuck again, like it had once done in the past, he surrenders and heads to the guest bathroom so he could at least wash. his face. Flipping on the light, he sees a stack of clothes and a sticky note on the mirror. 

"Couch is set, don't bother." Was all it said. Upon inspecting the clothes, he realizes they're his pajamas. A pair of clean boxers was folded along with them and his toothbrush and facial care products were on the sink too. 

He couldn't blame her for wanting space, for needing time to process the depth of his neglect and the pain it had caused her. With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to the reality of the situation, knowing that he had no one to blame but himself for the rift that had formed between them. With slow, deliberate movements, Seonghwa began to undress, the weight of his guilt hanging heavy in the air as he changed into his pajamas. Each article of clothing felt like a tangible reminder of his own shortcomings, a stark reminder of the distance that had grown between him and the woman he loved.

As he washed his face and went through his nightly skincare routine, Seonghwa couldn't help but replay the events of the day in his mind, each moment a painful reminder of his own neglect and the consequences it had wrought. He knew that he had a long road ahead of him to make things right with Y/N, to rebuild the trust and connection that had been shattered by his own neglect.

But amidst the darkness of his own guilt, a flicker of determination ignited within Seonghwa's heart, a resolve to do whatever it took to earn back Y/N's love and forgiveness. He knew that it wouldn't be easy, that there would be obstacles and challenges along the way, but he was willing to fight for their relationship with every fiber of his being.

And as he settled onto the couch, the weight of Y/N's absence pressing down on him like a physical weight, Seonghwa knew that he had a long journey ahead of him to make things right. But he was determined to do whatever it took to show Y/N just how much she meant to him, to prove to her that he was worthy of her love and forgiveness. For he knew that their love was worth fighting for, even in the darkest of times.

Y/N didn't get much sleep that night, her face felt stiff from the amount of tears that streamed down her face when she realized he wasn't coming home on time. She kept her gaze on the empty side of the bed, emotions void and heart breaking bit by bit. Y/N buried her face in the pillow, her sobs muffled against the soft fabric as she allowed herself to succumb to the tidal wave of grief that threatened to engulf her. She felt as though her heart had been shattered into a million pieces, each fragment a painful reminder of the love she had lost. As she wept into the sheets, a knock sounded at the door. 

"Y/N...." Y/N's heart lurched at the sound of Seonghwa's voice, the familiar warmth of his tone cutting through the darkness of her despair like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. She lifted her head from the pillow, her eyes red and swollen from hours of crying, as she struggled to comprehend the reality of his presence.

"Seonghwa..." Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper as she fought to regain control of her emotions. She felt a jumble of conflicting emotions swirling within her, a mixture of relief and anger, love and betrayal, all vying for dominance within her fractured heart.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, Y/N pushed herself up from the bed, walking towards the bedroom door to unlock it. Upon opening it, her eyes locked with Seonghwa's, who stood in the doorway, his expression a mixture of guilt and remorse. She could see the weight of his own emotions reflected in his eyes, the shadows of regret etched into the lines of his face.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. But then, with a tentative step forward, Seonghwa crossed the threshold into the room, his eyes never leaving Y/N's as he approached her with cautious uncertainty.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," Seonghwa murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out a trembling hand to brush away the tears that stained her cheeks. "I never meant to hurt you like this."

Y/N's heart clenched at the sincerity in Seonghwa's words, the raw vulnerability of his confession piercing through the walls she had erected around her wounded heart. She could see the pain etched into every line of his face, the depth of his regret mirrored in the depths of his eyes. And in that moment, as their gazes locked and their hearts laid bare, Y/N knew that she couldn't turn her back on the love they shared, no matter how deep the wounds that had been inflicted upon it. 

"You forgot.....you never forget." She whispered, softly pushing his hand away from her and crossed her arms. 

"I know, I know." Seonghwa slowly pulled his hand back, returning it to his side. "Honey I.....I'm so sorry." Y/N's heart ached at Seonghwa's admission, the weight of his apology hanging heavy in the air between them. She could feel the turmoil churning within her, torn between the pain of his betrayal and the love that still lingered in her heart.

"Seonghwa, how could you forget?" Y/N's voice wavered with emotion, her eyes brimming with tears as she struggled to make sense of the hurt that consumed her. "Our anniversary, it's... it's not just any date. It's a reminder of the love we share, the memories we've built together. How could you forget something so important to us?"

Seonghwa's shoulders slumped under the weight of Y/N's words, his own guilt and regret written plainly on his face. "I don't have an excuse. I let work consume me, and I neglected the most important thing in my life. I'm sorry, I truly am."

Y/N felt a pang of anguish as she looked into Seonghwa's eyes, seeing the depth of his remorse mirrored back at her. Despite the hurt he had caused, she couldn't deny the love she still felt for him, the longing to rebuild what they had lost.

"I don't know what to do anymore," Y/N admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Seonghwa I....I don't know if I can do this anymore." Seonghwa's eyes widen in panic, quickly bringing his arms around her. 

"No no no, don't say that. Please, let me make it up to you. Please Y/N." Seonghwa's arms enveloped Y/N in a tight embrace, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions that raged within her. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing her own tumultuous thoughts.

"I don't want to lose you, Y/N," Seonghwa whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You mean everything to me. Please, give me another chance to make things right. I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust, to prove to you how much you mean to me."

Y/N leaned into Seonghwa's embrace, his scent and the familiarity of his presence soothing her frayed nerves. Despite the pain and uncertainty that lingered in her heart, she couldn't deny the longing she felt to hold onto the love they shared, to believe in the possibility of a future together.

"I want to believe you, Seonghwa," Y/N murmured, her voice muffled against his chest. "But I need time... time to heal." Seonghwa nodded, his grip on Y/N tightening ever so slightly as he held her close. 

"I understand, Y/N. Take all the time you need. I'll be here, waiting for you, ready to do whatever it takes to make things right." And as they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Y/N knew that their journey back to each other would be long and arduous.

It had been a week now since the incident, a little bit had changed. Seonghwa was good about giving Y/N her space. He had been sleeping on the couch the past few nights to respect her wishes of wanting to be alone. Seonghwa wasn't going to lie, this had been one of the worst weeks of his life. Being so close to the women he loved but having to stay far from her had been a difficult task. Though, he reminds himself that it's what he had been doing the past few months, it's just now, he was conscious of it. 

Yesterday had been the last day of finalizing everything for the project he and the team had been working night and day on. As a rewards, he was given a few payed days off, and Seonghwa was going to use them wisely.  As he stretched his stiff muscles, a sense of determination filled him, knowing that today was the day he would begin to make things right with Y/N.

With quiet steps, Seonghwa grabbed his coat and keys, intent on making the most of his days off. He had a plan in mind, a way to show Y/N just how much she meant to him and how committed he was to repairing their relationship.

As he stepped out into the crisp morning air, Seonghwa couldn't help but feel a sense of hope stirring within him. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, he was determined to win back Y/N's trust and rebuild the love they had shared.

And as he set off on his journey, Seonghwa knew that with patience, perseverance, and unwavering devotion, anything was possible. For he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right with the woman he loved, to prove to her that their love was worth fighting for, even in the darkest of times.

By the time Y/N woke up and walked into the kitchen, everything was set up. She saw a vase of her favorite flowers sitting on the dining table. Along with them were fresh crepe's from her favorite breakfast spot and a cup of iced coffee. Seonghwa was seated at the table, legs bouncing in anticipation while he waited for her. 

"What's this?" She asked, voice still groggy since she'd woken up not too long ago. Seonghwa looked up from the table, a smile lighting up his face as he saw Y/N enter the room. He motioned for her to take a seat, the anticipation evident in his eyes as he waited for her reaction.

"It's breakfast," Seonghwa replied, his voice soft with sincerity. "I thought we could start the day off right, together."

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as she took in the spread before her, the aroma of fresh crepes and coffee filling the air. She couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth in her chest at the thoughtfulness of Seonghwa's gesture, the love and effort he had put into making her feel special.

"Oh, Seonghwa," Y/N breathed, her voice filled with emotion as she moved to sit across from him at the table. "This is... this is so sweet."

Seonghwa's smile widened at Y/N's reaction, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of her appreciating his efforts. He reached across the table to take her hand in his, his gaze locking with hers in silent understanding.

"I know I haven't been the best lately, Y/N," Seonghwa began, his voice filled with sincerity. "But I want you to know that I'm committed to making things right, to proving to you how much you mean to me. I love you more than words can say, and I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust and rebuild our relationship."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat at Seonghwa's heartfelt words, her eyes brimming with tears at the depth of his sincerity. She squeezed his hand gently, a silent affirmation of her love and forgiveness. "I love you too, Seonghwa," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "Let's take it one step at a time, together." 

Seonghwa's heart swelled with gratitude and relief as he listened to Y/N's words, the weight of her forgiveness lifting the burden of guilt from his shoulders. He squeezed her hand gently, his gaze softening with love and appreciation as he leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her forehead. 

"Are you fucking kidding me Seonghwa, again. This happened AGAIN." Y/N stormed off into the bedroom, hands tangled in her hair as she tried to not lash out at him. Seonghwa remained in the apartment doorway, head hung low in regret. It had now been a month since their last dispute. Tonight, they were supposed to meet Y/N and his friends at an arcade and bar to celebrate someone's promotion. But, of course, Seonghwa was a no call no show. 

Seonghwa's heart sank as he watched Y/N storm off into the bedroom, her words ringing in his ears like a painful echo of his own failures. He knew he had messed up again, that his repeated absences and broken promises had pushed Y/N to her breaking point. He stood there in the doorway, his shoulders slumped with the weight of his own guilt and regret. How many times could he apologize, how many promises could he make before they became meaningless?

Slowly, Seonghwa made his way to the bedroom, steeling himself for the confrontation that awaited him. He found Y/N sitting on the edge of the bed, her back turned to him as she stared blankly at the wall.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," Seonghwa murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I messed up, again. I don't have any excuses, I just... I lost track of time, I lost sight of what's important. But please, believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. I love you, more than anything in this world, and I'll do whatever it takes to make things right."

Y/N remained silent, her fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to contain her anger and frustration. She wanted to believe Seonghwa, wanted to believe that he was capable of change, but the wounds of his repeated betrayals ran deep.

"It's not just about tonight, Seonghwa," Y/N finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's about all the times you've let me down, all the broken promises and empty apologies. I don't know how much more of this I can take." Seonghwa's heart clenched at Y/N's words, the fear of losing her threatening to consume him. He knelt before her, his eyes pleading for another chance, for one more opportunity to prove himself worthy of her love.

"Please, Y/N," Seonghwa begged, his voice trembling with emotion. "Give me one more chance to make things right. I'll do whatever it takes, I'll change, I'll be better. Just please... don't give up on us."

Y/N's heart ached as she looked into Seonghwa's pleading eyes, torn between the love she still felt for him and the pain of his repeated betrayals. She could see the sincerity in his gaze, the desperation in his voice, and a part of her wanted to believe that he was capable of change.

But the wounds of his broken promises ran deep, and she couldn't shake the nagging doubt that lingered in the back of her mind. How many times could she forgive him, how many chances could she give before she lost herself entirely?

"I don't know, Seonghwa," Y/N whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I want to believe you, I really do. But I don't know if I can keep going through this cycle of hurt and disappointment." Seonghwa's heart sank at Y/N's words, the weight of her uncertainty crushing him like a tidal wave. He had hoped that this time would be different, that his words would be enough to convince her of his sincerity. But he knew that actions spoke louder than words, and he had seen how much this had hurt her the last time. 

Seonghwa knew what needed to happen, quite frankly both of them did. But he knew why it hadn't been brought up yet, why it had never been suggested. They loved each other too much, he knew that Y/N would never bring it up because she'll give him the benefit of the doubt no matter what. Now it was time to make a decision, and it's one that he knew he had to make himself. 

Slowly, he sat by Y/N. Seonghwa felt the weight of the silence pressing in around them, suffocating him with the weight of their unresolved emotions. He couldn't bear to see Y/N in such pain, couldn't bear the thought of losing her, but he knew that their relationship couldn't continue like this.

Taking a deep breath, Seonghwa reached out to gently take Y/N's hand in his, his touch a silent reassurance of his love and support. He knew what needed to be done, knew that it would be the hardest decision he would ever have to make, but he also knew that it was the right one for both of them.

"Y/N," Seonghwa began, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. "I... I think we need to take a break."

Y/N's eyes widened in shock at Seonghwa's words, her heart clenching with a mixture of pain and disbelief. She opened her mouth to protest, to beg him not to leave her, but the words caught in her throat as she saw the resolve in Seonghwa's gaze.

"I know this isn't what you want to hear, and it's not what I want either," Seonghwa continued, his voice thick with emotion. "But I think we both need some time apart to figure things out, to heal from all the hurt and disappointment. I love you, Y/N, more than anything in this world, but I can't keep hurting you like this."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she listened to Seonghwa's words, the pain of his decision piercing her heart like a dagger. She wanted to fight against it, to cling to him and beg him not to leave, but deep down she knew that he was right. Slowly, she nodded, her voice choked with emotion as she whispered, "ok."

And as they sat there, hand in hand, their hearts heavy with sorrow and uncertainty, Y/N couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the end of their love story, or if it was merely the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with hope and the promise of a brighter tomorrow.

Seonghwa squeezed Y/N's hand gently, his heart aching with the pain of their parting but also with the hope of a better future. He leaned forward to press a tender kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin for a moment before he reluctantly pulled away.

"I'll always love you, Y/N," Seonghwa murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "No matter what happens, please remember that."

Y/N nodded, her own tears cascading down her cheeks as she watched Seonghwa stand up and make his way towards the door. She wanted to reach out, to beg him to stay, but she knew that this was something they both needed to do.

As the door closed behind Seonghwa, Y/N was left alone with her thoughts, her heart heavy with sorrow but also with a glimmer of hope for the future. She didn't know what lay ahead for them, didn't know if they would ever find their way back to each other, but she was willing to take the chance, to believe in the possibility of a brighter tomorrow.

And as she curled up on the bed, surrounded by the echoes of their love and the memories of happier times, Y/N couldn't help but hold on to that hope, to cling to the belief that someday, somehow, they would find their way back to each other.

next story coming soon......

Thank you guys for enjoying the series, it means a lot to see so many people like the posts. If you want to join the taglist, please let me know.

Taglist: @scarfac3 @bts-army380 @ssrnghwa @philijack

[kana2025]

Jaehyun x Reader in a Summer Class

Word Count: 20+ Genres: School Life, Fluff, Romance Synopsis: In the midst of a summer class, Jaehyun and the reader discover their growing attraction for each other. From shared moments in lectures to intimate conversations over lunch, their friendship blossoms into a sweet romance filled with tender moments and newfound feelings.

The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the campus as you made your way to your summer class. The idea of spending your vacation studying wasn't exactly thrilling, but you needed the credits. As you entered the classroom, you spotted Jaehyun, sitting in the back, his eyes already on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

You and Jaehyun had been friends for a while, ever since you met in your freshman year. But recently, something had changed. His gaze lingered a bit longer, his touches seemed more deliberate, and there was a possessiveness in the way he stayed close to you. It was both thrilling and a little unnerving.

"Hey," he greeted you with a smile that sent a shiver down your spine as you slid into the seat next to him.

"Hey," you replied, returning the smile.

Class began, and the room filled with the sound of lectures and scribbling notes. Jaehyun sat close, his arm occasionally brushing against yours, sending sparks of electricity through you each time. His presence was magnetic, and it was hard to focus on anything other than him.

During a break, Jaehyun leaned over, his breath warm against your ear. "Do you want to grab lunch after class? There's a new café that just opened nearby."

You nodded, your heart racing at the proximity of him. "Sure, that sounds great."

The rest of the class passed in a blur, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of spending more time with Jaehyun. As the final bell rang, he stood up, offering you his hand. "Ready?"

You took his hand, the touch sending a familiar thrill through you. "Ready."

The café was quaint and cozy, with a charming atmosphere that made you feel instantly at ease. You both ordered your drinks and found a quiet corner to sit. Jaehyun's eyes never left you, his gaze intense and unwavering.

"So, how are you finding the summer class?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

"It's alright," you replied, stirring your drink nervously. "A bit boring, but necessary."

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "I know what you mean. But having you there makes it a lot more bearable."

You blushed, your heart fluttering at his words. "Thanks, Jaehyun. I'm glad you're there too."

There was a moment of silence, the air between you thick with unspoken words. Jaehyun reached across the table, his hand covering yours. "I've been meaning to tell you something," he began, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

"What is it?" you asked, your pulse quickening.

"I like you," he said, his eyes locked onto yours. "More than just a friend. I've felt this way for a while now, and I can't keep it to myself anymore."

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. The intensity in his gaze, the sincerity in his voice – it was overwhelming. "Jaehyun, I... I like you too."

His face lit up with a smile that made your heart melt. He stood up, moving to sit next to you, his hand never leaving yours. "I was hoping you'd say that," he murmured, leaning in closer. "Because I want to be with you, and only you."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you leaned in, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a kiss that was soft and tender at first, but quickly grew more passionate. His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a sensual precision that left you breathless.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were panting, your foreheads resting against each other. "I've wanted to do that for so long," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

"Me too," you admitted, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I'm glad you finally told me."

He smiled, a look of pure adoration in his eyes. "There's so much I want to share with you," he said, his voice filled with promise. "This is just the beginning."

As you sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that this summer class had turned out to be far more than just a necessity. It was the start of something beautiful, something that neither of you would ever forget.

[tommina]

Almost, But Not Quite

The first time you saw Renjun, he was just another student in the lecture hall—a figure among many, blending into the background noise of academic droning. It was the first semester of your college journey, and every day felt like a battle to stay afloat amidst the sea of new faces, unfamiliar routines, and relentless pressure. You were buried in your textbooks, the weight of endless assignments and looming deadlines pressing heavily on your shoulders.

Your focus wavered between the professor’s monotonous lecture and the ticking clock on the wall, each second dragging on in a blur of fatigue and anxiety. Renjun was seated a few rows ahead of you, absorbed in his notes. His presence barely registered in your overtaxed mind until a fleeting glance caught his profile—a determined set to his jaw and a furrowed brow that suggested he was fighting his own battle with the material.

It wasn’t until the group project that Renjun’s quiet demeanor began to break through your haze. The project was a critical part of your grade, and the weight of its importance made it an immediate priority. You found yourself in a study group with Renjun, and it was here that the unremarkable student began to reveal layers of complexity.

The library, often your refuge from the chaotic campus, became a backdrop for your growing connection with Renjun. It was late afternoon, and the fading light cast long shadows across the study tables. The quiet was punctuated only by the rustling of papers and the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

Renjun sat across from you, his focus unwavering as he meticulously organized his notes. You were struck by how effortlessly he seemed to understand the material, his calm approach a stark contrast to your own frenzied efforts. As the hours wore on, the stress of the project seemed to dissolve, replaced by an unexpected ease in your conversations.

“What do you do when you’re not studying?” you asked, breaking the silence with a question that had been on your mind.

Renjun looked up, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I like to sketch. It helps me unwind. I find it calming, you know?”

You were intrigued. “Sketch? What do you draw?”

He shrugged, his eyes lighting up with a rare enthusiasm. “Everything and nothing. Mostly just whatever comes to mind. It’s a way to clear my head.”

You shared your own passion for writing, and the conversation flowed effortlessly, shifting from your shared interests to personal anecdotes. It was in these moments of connection, amid the piles of textbooks and the hum of the library, that you felt a shift—an awareness that something deeper was growing between you.

As the semester progressed, your interactions with Renjun became more frequent and more personal. Study sessions extended into coffee dates, and discussions about academics morphed into conversations about your lives outside of class. The café near campus, with its cozy booths and warm lighting, became a favorite spot for you both.

One chilly evening, you found yourselves nestled in a corner of the café, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the soft strains of jazz music playing in the background. The warmth of the café was a stark contrast to the biting cold outside, and you were grateful for the respite from the harsh weather.

Renjun was animated as he spoke about a recent art exhibit he had visited. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and you found yourself drawn to the passion in his voice. It was moments like these that made you realize how deeply you were falling for him, how much you cherished his presence in your life.

“I never thought I’d be so moved by a painting,” he said, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “There was something about it that just… spoke to me. You know what I mean?”

You nodded, trying to keep your emotions in check. “I understand. It’s like when you read a book that just resonates with you on a personal level.”

Renjun’s gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. The connection between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that neither of you could fully acknowledge. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

The days grew shorter, and the weather turned colder as winter approached. The campus was draped in a blanket of snow, and the rain that fell in relentless sheets against the library windows seemed to mirror the tumultuous emotions swirling inside you.

One particularly dreary afternoon, as you and Renjun huddled together at your usual table in the library, the weight of unspoken feelings felt almost unbearable. The rain beat against the glass, a rhythmic backdrop to the silent tension that had settled between you.

You were both deeply engrossed in your work, but the proximity was overwhelming. The brush of your shoulders, the occasional touch of your hands, and the shared glances were a constant reminder of the unspoken words that loomed between you.

Renjun’s pen paused mid-air, and he looked over at you with an expression that was both serious and hesitant. The quiet was charged with an almost tangible energy, and you could feel the pressure mounting.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Can we talk?”

Your heart skipped a beat. The simplicity of his request was laced with a weight that you couldn’t ignore. You glanced up, meeting his eyes, and saw a vulnerability that made your breath catch. The anticipation was almost suffocating.

“Yeah, sure,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

Renjun took a deep breath, his gaze shifting to the raindrops racing down the window. His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his notebook, and the tension between you seemed to grow with every passing second.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I feel like there’s something between us. Something more than just friendship.”

The words hit you like a jolt, sending a shockwave through your chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, and the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. This was the moment you had both been skirting around, the moment where everything could change.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. The fear of jeopardizing the fragile connection you had built made your throat close up. You cared deeply for Renjun, and the thought of losing him was almost unbearable. But the fear of what could happen if you acknowledged the feelings was equally paralyzing.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you finally managed, your voice trembling. “I care about you, Renjun. I really do. But… I’m not sure if I can handle more right now.”

The look on Renjun’s face was heartbreaking. His eyes, which had held so much hope, now reflected a deep sense of disappointment and hurt. He nodded slowly, his expression a mixture of understanding and sorrow.

“I get it,” he said quietly. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I just… needed you to know.”

The silence that followed was heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid. The comfortable camaraderie you had once shared now felt like a distant memory. The air between you was thick with unspoken regrets and a palpable sense of loss.

The days following that conversation were filled with a strained awkwardness. The once-easy interactions with Renjun became guarded and distant. The warmth that had characterized your time together seemed to evaporate, leaving behind a cold emptiness.

You continued to see him around campus, but the once-familiar smiles and casual conversations were replaced with polite nods and fleeting interactions. The sense of connection that had once been so strong now felt fractured, and the longing for what might have been was a constant ache in your chest.

Winter break arrived, bringing with it a much-needed respite from the relentless pressure of college life. You spent the holidays with your family, trying to escape the memories of the conversation that had altered your relationship with Renjun. Yet, even in the comfort of home, the sense of loss lingered.

One snowy evening, as you walked through the campus, now covered in a pristine layer of snow, you ran into Renjun. He was bundled up in a thick coat, his breath visible in the chilly air. The sight of him brought a rush of conflicting emotions—sadness, longing, and an intense sense of regret.

“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of hesitation and warmth. “How have you been?”

You forced a smile, though it felt hollow. “I’ve been good. Just enjoying the break. How about you?”

Renjun shrugged, his eyes shifting to the snow-covered ground. “Same here. Just trying to relax.”

The conversation was polite but strained, the weight of the unspoken words between you creating an almost palpable barrier. The ease that had once characterized your interactions was gone, replaced by a heavy silence that neither of you seemed willing or able to bridge.

“Well, I should probably head back,” you said finally, trying to sound casual. “I’ve got some errands to run.”

Renjun nodded, his smile fading slightly. “Yeah, me too. Take care, okay?”

You watched as he walked away, the snow crunching beneath his boots. The sight of him leaving left you with a deep sense of longing and a gnawing regret. You had come to cherish your time with Renjun, and the thought of the connection remaining fractured was almost too painful to bear.

Months passed, and as spring blossomed on campus, so did the subtle changes in your life. The initial pangs of regret were gradually replaced by a bittersweet acceptance. The emotional wound had begun to heal, though the memory of Renjun lingered like a haunting refrain.

It was on a particularly bright afternoon that you found yourself at the campus bookstore, searching for a book that had been recommended by a friend. The store was bustling with students, their chatter filling the space with a sense of hurried energy.

As you reached for a book on a high shelf, your fingers brushed against another hand reaching for the same volume. You turned to find Renjun standing next to you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Hey,” he said, a hint of awkwardness in his voice. “I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

You swallowed, your heart skipping a beat. “Yeah, just looking for a book. It’s been a while.”

Renjun nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, it has. How have you been?”

The conversation was stilted, the old familiarity overshadowed by the weight of the past. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a palpable tension—a hint of unresolved feelings that neither of you could ignore.

As you both left the bookstore, Renjun hesitated by the door, as if debating whether to say something more. The sun was setting, casting long shadows on the ground, and the atmosphere was filled with a quiet anticipation.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Renjun began, his voice low. “About us, and what might have been.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The familiarity of his words, combined with the emotional weight of the moment, made your heart ache. You wanted to respond, to bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the fear of reopening old wounds held you back.

Renjun seemed to sense your hesitation. “I don’t want to make things awkward,” he said quickly, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I just… I needed you to know that I’ve been thinking a lot about us.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could find the right words, Renjun’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting to one of concern.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking up at you with a troubled expression. “I have to go. Something’s come up.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing alone in the fading light. The suddenness of his departure left you with a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, longing, and an aching sense of what could have been.

You watched as Renjun disappeared into the distance, the weight of his unspoken words lingering in the air. The possibility of what might still be unresolved hung heavily between you, a haunting reminder of the fragile connection that had never fully blossomed.

As you stood there, the sun setting behind you, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was not the end. The unresolved tension and the flicker of hope left you with a heart full of questions, each one more painful than the last.

What was Renjun about to say? Would you ever get the chance to understand his true feelings, or was this the final goodbye to a connection that had been left almost but not quite fulfilled?

The unanswered questions echoed in your mind as you turned to leave, your steps heavy with the weight of the lingering emotions. The journey you thought had ended was far from over, and the future remained uncertain—filled with the possibility of a return, a chance to confront the feelings that had been left in limbo.

[mult1aes-moved]

@soulwaned, marianne sheridan required a starter from garrett graham.

garrett had always prided himself on his ability to navigate social situations with ease. he had the knack for making friends and keeping conversations flowing, but today was different. today, he found himself intrigued by someone new. marianne, with her quiet demeanor and sharp intellect, had piqued his curiosity. he had seen her around campus, often lost in a book or deep in thought, and while he respected her need for solitude, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface worth discovering. garrett approached her usual study spot—a cozy corner of the campus café where she often retreated with her books and coffee. as he neared, he noticed her engrossed in what appeared to be a dense novel, her brow furrowed in concentration. clearing his throat gently to get her attention without startling her, he offered a warm, easygoing smile.

“ hey, marianne, ” he said, trying to sound casual. “ i hope i’m not interrupting. i couldn’t help but notice you’ve got quite the selection of books there. mind if i join you for a bit? i promise i’m not here to steal your favorite reads, just hoping for a bit of friendly conversation. ” he took a seat across from her, his expression open and inviting. garrett was genuinely interested in getting to know her, intrigued by the quiet strength he sensed in her. he wanted to see if she was as engaging in conversation as she seemed to be in her solitude. “ i’m garrett, by the way, ” he added, leaning back slightly as he looked at her with a friendly curiosity. “ it’s always nice to meet someone who seems to have such a passion for reading. what are you diving into today? ”

[writerfae]

A place of cake and care

a tribute to the one (and only) story of mine I actually managed to finish, featuring Talon

As Talon stepped into the little café, he was welcomed with a pleasant warmth. 

The waiter greeted him with a smile and Talon answered with a nod before taking a seat by his usual spot, a small table by the window.

Ever since he had worked part-time at a coffee shop in his first year of university -an experience that had pretty much sucked- Talon had been avoiding cafés for quite a while. 

Only some weeks ago did he stumble over this one by pure chance after his class was canceled and, upon seeing that it was pretty much empty, decided to give it a try. 

And after tasting what was probably the best strawberry cheesecake of his life (after the one that Aiden made for his birthday once), Talon came back again and again in the following weeks.

The café was right across from uni. It became the highlight of Talon’s dull university life. 

This place was different from the shitty one he used to work at.

Cozy, not as crowded as the awful coffee shops on campus and quiet, what Talon greatly appreciated. 

Here you never got bothered by loud university students drunk on an excessive amount of bad coffee. It was the perfect place to study.

So whenever he craved some peace and quiet (or cake) he always found himself in the little café, at the table by the window.

Talon was just searching his bag for the book he needed to read for class, as someone placed a cup and plate on his table. Surprised, he looked up.

“A strawberry cheesecake and one coffee with extra cream for my new regular.” The shop owner -his name was Danny if he recalled right- was smiling down at him.

Danny was a man in his mid-thirties, with flaming red hair that reminded Talon of his friend Halea and freckles all over his face.

Dimples and the laughter lines around his eyes testified to his seemingly never-fading smile. 

Talon hadn’t talked to him much yet, but enough to know that he was always friendly and in a good mood.

And apparently very good at memorizing his customer’s favorite orders, too.

Talon smiled at the older man. It was hard not to, his smile was pretty much infecting. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, uh…”

“Talon.”

The man nodded. “Talon. Alright, noted. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you sooner, you came to visit a few times already after all. I was being a terrible host there.” 

Talon told him that it was alright. Not that knowing all the customer’s names was something he was expecting from a café owner anyway. 

Honestly, his old boss didn’t even know the names of his staff members, let alone that of any customers. 

So really, Danny was being a thousand times a better host then that guy.

Talon was pretty sure he’d also make a better boss.

“I’m glad then.” Danny’s eyes wandered to the book Talon had placed on the table. 

“You study journalism, huh?” 

Talon nodded. “I do.” 

He was surprised the shop owner seemed to recognize the book as one for Talon’s journalism class.

Danny smiled, a smile that seemed pretty much amused. 

“I see. Say, what made you choose this field of study? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

For a second Talon considered to shrug it off to avoid a longer conversation. Lately he wasn’t really feeling like talking. 

Except for maybe with a certain person that was currently half a world away...

But Danny was quite easy to talk to, so he found himself giving an honest reply after all.

“I like writing. And… you know, getting to know stuff. Researching, finding the truth, investigating. I think it’s interesting.” 

Now that he said it out loud he felt kind of stupid, his explaination rather childish. And it was, in a way, it was born from a childhood dream after all. 

One he had almost forgotten, pressured under his father’s expectation of him becoming a lawyer and carrying on the family business.

It may have also been a bit out of spite that he chose to study journalism instead of law. 

But Talon wasn’t about to dump all that info on poor Danny, who was just trying to be polite and hold a conversation.

“Oh I do understand, believe me. Sounds like a pretty good reason to me.” 

Danny chuckled, a really nice sound, and Talon felt his cheeks heat up. His slight embarrassment didn’t went unnoticed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing about you, it’s just that about sixteen years ago, I asked another journalism student here the same question and he answered pretty much the same.” 

His expression was fond. 

“It’s funny cause you remind me of him. I felt like I was having a flashback when I saw you walk in the first time. He even sat at the same table.”

Now that caught the interest of the journalism student in Talon. “Sixteen years ago?”

“Yes.” Danny laughed, taking the seat opposite of him.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Can’t believe I work at this place for that long already? But I do. When I was eighteen, I started working here part-time to pay for college.”

Memories of Talon’s own part-time job at a café flashed before his eyes and Talon had no idea how after such an experience one would still like to work at -let alone own- a café. 

Then again, if this place had always been the way it was now, working here might have been quite nice. Talon for one would’ve gladly traded his old workplace for this one. 

Could’ve saved him a few mental breakdowns, probably.

“And you still remember the customers you had back then?” No one could possibly have such a big memory, except for maybe if they were a genius. 

Danny laughed. 

“Some, yeah. Mostly regulars that still visit sometimes. But not even I can possibly remember all of them. I do get older after all. But him I remember quite vividly.”

He didn’t know why he was suddenly so interested in stranger’s stories (probably a side effect of his studies), but Talon would lie if he said he wasn’t curious. “Why is that?”

Danny grinned, holding up his hand and wiggling with his fingers. 

“Cause I ended up marrying him,” he said, showing off a golden wedding ring.

“Oh.” Talon smiled to himself. He really didn’t see that coming. “And you met here?” 

Look at him holding up a conversation. His friends would’ve been proud. Maybe he should bring them along sometime, he was sure they would like Danny. 

Maybe he should take Aiden here, too, after he came back. When he wanted something to do with Talon at all after he returned, that was.

He was almost too caught up in his own thoughts to notice Danny lighten up at the possibility to talk about his husband, but he listened patiently as he told him the story of how the two came to meet. 

It was cute, the repressed sap in Talon noted, but it also made his heart sting a bit, because it made him think of Aiden. 

Then again, a lot of things reminded Talon of him, so that feeling was nothing new.

“What about you?” Danny watched him with his head tilted in curiosity. “Got anyone special in your life?” 

It was almost like he knew what Talon thought about. A bit scary, he thought, but maybe it was just his experience. 

When you cared for customers for so long, you probably got some sort of secret sense for people’s thoughts and feelings. 

Talon was sure there were quite a lot people that spilled their whole life stories to the likable café owner, pouring their hearts out to him, drawn in by a friendly smile.

He had the feeling he was about to become one of those people.

“Well, yeah I…” he said to Danny, who was still waiting for him to answer. “I do. A boyfriend. But it’s…” he looked down on his hands. 

“It is a bit complicated, lately.”

And maybe it was because of the sympathetic look Danny gave him, or the fact that Talon felt the need to talk about it with someone who wasn’t somehow involved and Danny seemed like a damn good listener, but there in the now almost empty café he told someone he got to know about half an hour ago about the whole mess that was his current love-life.

As Talon had finished, he felt a bit embarrassed, but also surprisingly relieved. 

This was so unlike him. Talon didn’t talk about feelings, especially not with strangers. But this time he did, and it felt long overdue.

“That is complicated indeed.” The café owner was quiet for a moment, like he was searching for the right words to say.

“But you know, I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself about it. 

University was giving you a hard time -something you are not alone with by the way- and you shouldn’t have taken it out on your boyfriend like you did, but that’s nothing you can take back now. 

All you can do is learn from it, and you did, right?”

Oh yes, Talon had learned. He didn’t just almost lost Aiden back then, he had almost lost his mind too. 

The relationship break Aiden asked for was sort of his wake-up call. 

Only then Talon was able to see what the constant stress of overworking himself did to him – and to his relationship.

“Yes, but… What if it’s too late? I haven’t seen him in about a year. He will come back in less than two months, but what if...” 

What if Aiden would break up with him for good? If in Canada he realized that he was better off without him?

“You think he won’t forgive you? That he moved on?” Danny asked. Talon nodded, looking away.

“Oh, kid.” Danny shook his head. “You worry too much. Look, I don’t know your boyfriend and I only know you for about an hour, but I can tell that you love him. 

And he has to love you too, otherwise I think he wouldn’t have suggested this break. Which was a good decision, by the way.

We shouldn’t give up on love after the very first obstacle. Sometimes we just have to take a step back to see more clearly. You did, and it hurt sometimes, but it will be worth it. You’ll work things out, I’m sure.”

As Talon dared to shift his gaze back to the person in front of him, the older man gave him an encouraging smile. 

This was the first time in a long while, Talon thought, that someone older than him took their time and listened to his problems, trying to make him feel better about them. 

Something he sometimes wished his father would’ve done once in a while.

It didn’t stop him from worrying, he was an overthinker at heart after all, but it was at least nice to voice his worries out loud.

Talon smiled at the other man. “Thank you. Really, I… It was nice to get to talk about it.” 

Honestly, Danny deserved an award for getting Talon to open up like this. He came to this place rather not wanting to talk at all, but now he was glad he did.

Danny smiled. “No problem, kid. You looked like you needed it. I’m glad I was able to help.” 

He stood up, patting Talon’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. 

“But I better leave you alone now and go back to work. These cakes I need to prepare won’t bake themselves,” he said with a wink and turned to leave. 

He took only a few steps before turning around to Talon once more, though. 

“I hope I keep seeing you around? Maybe someday with your boyfriend, too. I’d love to meet him.”

Talon nodded. “Sure.”

“Great. Tell me before you show up with him and I’ll bring out the candles.” Danny grinned and Talon couldn’t help but laugh.

In the following weeks he did come back, quite regularly so. And Danny’s little café remained his favorite even years after he first stepped into it.

.

maybe some background info: Danny is an old OC of mine from „The Café where we met“, a story I wrote around 2016 (oh my that’s long ago).

It’s about the story he told Talon, of how he met his (now) husband, but told from his husband’s perspective. Back in the story Danny is 18.

Now, even after years I am still absolutely in love with him. I just love this character a lot. And one day I had the idea to do a crossover with my the knights of the alder modern au, because I noticed the similarities between Talon and Danny’s husband and that’s how it all started.

First I had the idea that maybe Danny and Talon were around the same age, but then when I wrote this I thought it would be fun to age him up, also to sorta fantasize about how his life looks like when he’s older.

Anyway, I have lots of thoughts on this but before this escalates even more in a full on essay about this crossover, let me just say I had lots of fun with this and I hope you had fun reading it

general tag list: @deadlycupid @writing-is-a-martial-art @writingamongther0ses @blueinkblot @wildswrites @abiandwriting @theroyalcoven @7devills @myhusbandsasemni @authortango @sleepy-night-child @charleeyy @formulatingfiction @shiishki @gr3y-heron

[cobaincreates]

the fuck is a touron? pt. 2

warnings: language, mention of drugs & alcohol, smut (wrap it you're smart), very brief oral (male receiving), 18+

count: 9k+

part one is here! i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing it! also remember when i said this has been sitting for a couple months?? welp, it’s been longer than that...oops. but it's all yours now!!! :)

taglist is always open. have a lovely weekend! photo cred

— — —

3 weeks earlier

a loud blare jolted you awake.

“what the fuck?”

you scrambled to stop the noise, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest. your head knocked into something hard as you twisted and tried to assemble your brain.

a clatter of what sounded like several bottles came from your right. the sound still rang out into the room—which was where exactly?

as you got to your hands and knees and shuffled against what felt like carpet, you remembered vaguely that you’d gone out last night. the carpet and dark room didn’t tell you much else. but the trilling alarm was enough to set you into a search to find that out.

“shut that off!” a voice yelled from behind you.

your hand knocked into more bottles and you grappled for one, feeling the familiar shape of a glass beer bottle. someone groaned in front of you then a blinding light pierced across your eyes. you sucked in a breath, dropping the bottle and covering your eyes.

what, were you a vampire? you peeked past your fingers to a parted curtain letting in a sliver of sunlight. you saw a little more of where you’d been, the light trail full of bottles and some sprawled legs and arms.

the alarm cut off suddenly. soft snores and labored breaths filled the silence now, along with a pounding in your ears so intense, you would’ve thought you were still hearing the alarm. a slow, gradual ache formed in the center of your forehead.

you blinked as your eyes adjusted to the light. a sparkling stiletto caught your attention, but it wasn’t on a foot. you looked around the room and spotted its twin near the back of a couch. crawling over, you found liza laying on her back with her hair messily splayed around her.

she was yawning while her phone lit up her face in a soft glow. when your eyes met, she whispered, “hey.”

you faintly remembered her setting an alarm on her phone somewhere in between jell-o shots and body shots. or was it after the jäger bombs?

you let out an oomf as you collapsed beside her on your stomach. your head didn’t let up the pounding. you made a noise, your words muffled against the stale-smelling carpet.

“what?” liza said, not having heard any coherent words.

you turned your head, the carpet scratching your cheek. “i said, nurse me back to health, please.”

“i told you not to do those lines,” she said, shaking her head.

“what?” you said a little too loudly, earning a few shh!s in return.

“i’m kidding,” liza laughed.

you grimaced, mostly at her but also at the hair in your mouth. you reached up to remove it and sat up while liza looked at her phone.

“what time is it?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder around the room.

no one else had moved from liza’s wake-up alarm. your vision was clearer now and you took in the trashed room. bottles lay everywhere, a few staining the carpet in dark puddles. a lamp was on the floor, its shade across the room over someone’s head. it was warm considering the blackout curtains keeping the morning sun out and you couldn’t imagine sleeping in here any longer.

your head pounded again as liza said, “noon.”

“can we go? i might throw up from how hot it is in here.” you pulled at your dress, wanting nothing more than to get under some cold water.

liza sat up and looked around, dropping her phone into her lap. “i need my other shoe.”

“it’s over here,” you said and crawled to retrieve it for her.

she put it on, her dress riding up her thighs before she stood and pulled it back down. you took her offered hand so she could help you up. your heels sank into the carpet and you looked down, finding a soggy spot where beer had seeped in. you frowned and grabbed ahold of liza’s arm to find your way out.

your small crossbody clutch was resting on the couch cushion and you reached for it over a girl’s sleeping form, careful not to wake her. she made a small noise and you snatched it quickly, feeling the weight of your phone inside.

liza ordered an uber to bring you back to campus. it was fifteen minutes away and you panicked for a brief moment from not knowing where the hell you were. last night was a whole blur apart from arriving and getting into the swing of things. you remember dancing and drinking and having fun with liza and a few other friends. it wasn’t usual for you to sleep at random people’s houses after parties, but last night must have been a little more eventful than others.

you let out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding as you sank into the back of the uber driver’s car. luckily, you didn’t get someone hopped up on coffee or blasting music. it was quiet and calm, enough so that you closed your eyes.

speaking of coffee, you could really use one. and food. and a shower. had you really slept on that nasty carpet last night? you shuddered and opened your eyes.

fishing out your phone from your clutch, you saw a few notifications from last night and the past few hours. you ignored them for now and unlocked your phone with the goal of texting one of your friends who worked at the diner in town and begging him to have your usual ready when you got there. it was all you could think about as your stomach rumbled.

but when you unlocked your phone, your eyebrows drew together. your screen opened to an internet tab, a little plane logo at the top corner.

“why the fuck did i buy a ticket to the outer banks?” you blurted to no one in particular. well, maybe to your friend beside you, who lived in the outer banks.

liza lolled her head toward you on the back of the seat, not at all looking as concerned as you felt. “you’re visiting, remember? i talked you into buying it last night.”

“why?” your head seemed to throb even worse.

you couldn’t go to the outer banks. you didn’t have the money for it and the ticket on your internet browser said you’d even bought a round trip one. god, why had you done that? you were saving up for the summer. you were saving up to see so much more than the outer banks. as much as you loved liza, and you knew she’d love to have you there, you would be wasting a weekend. how were you going to tell your boss that you needed off at such short notice?

liza shrugged beside you. “because my dad will be gone for a whole weekend and i’m throwing the biggest party ever and you love me and you promised to dance to ‘back that ass up’ with me there.”

“oh my god,” you groaned and dropped your phone into your lap. you rubbed your pulsing temples. “i can’t go, liza. i really need the money.”

“hence why you have a job—said job will pay that back in a week. you’re fine,” she waved her hand and turned back to the window.

“i need to work that weekend,” you argued. just thinking about asking for it off had your skin crawling.

“you can take time off. you never do.” liza shrugged, looking at you again. her face softened when she noticed how distraught you were over it. “look, if you really don’t want to, then just cancel it. it’s okay if you don’t come.”

your fingers came away from your head as you saw that she was being genuine. she may have joked around with you a lot, but she meant it when she said that.

friday

getting time off wasn’t easy. your boss acted like the ultimate villain in a boss level from a video game, having you go through all of these obstacles just to get three days off. you understood it, you were short-staffed anyways and it was hard, but you couldn’t help feeling as though they were a little harsh on you. it was always a fight to get time off, even when you showed up every day, on time, and did your work without complaint.

right after you talked to your boss, feeling the ultimate amount of shame over requesting three days, you searched high and low for someone to cover your shift. turns out, it wasn’t all that difficult to begin with since one of your co-workers—who just had a baby and was still a full-time student—told you they’d appreciate the extra hours. you felt instantly better afterward until your boss asked you to fill out three separate sheets for the time off. no, you couldn’t just write the three days on one sheet. it had to be three. separate. sheets.

it was completely ridiculous and uncalled for. you fumed for a while, pressing way too hard on your pen as you filled them out. once you set them on their desk, all filled out properly, you reminded yourself you could quit soon. just a few more months of the semester and you’d be gone.

the next day when you came in, your boss had allegedly lost those request papers. and funnily enough, they allowed you to put the weekend dates on one paper this time. you’d stared at them for a whole three minutes, paper in your hand and tongue between your teeth with angry words just dying to get out. you can quit soon. you can quit soon.

the weeks dragged by before the day finally arrived and you left for your flight. it was only when you got off the plane that the hours started to fly by. it was colder this time around, which you didn’t mind, even on the breezy ferry ride. you were looking forward to campfires and cozy sweaters.

you hopped off the ferry around noon and right into liza’s waiting arms at the dock. she was overjoyed about you visiting and you knew all the trouble with work was worth it just to get away for a little. you were young, there was no shame in a little time off, and liza was right—you’d already earned the money back for the ticket.

liza’s dad was bustling around their house when you arrived, packing like a crazy person on a time crunch. he threw a hello at you as he shuffled past with an armful of socks and possibly underwear, which had you lifting an eyebrow at liza. she shoved your arm and took your bag into the guest bedroom.

“where’s your dad running off to? can i go?” you teased, dropping your backpack onto the light green comforter. the white walls seemed brighter this time, but you accounted it for the new sheer curtains over the windows facing the back of the house.

“he’s going on a business trip. and no, you can’t. his girlfriend is going with him.” liza left your bag near the dresser and hopped on the bed, the comforter sighing under her weight.

“girlfriend? aw, man.” you frowned dramatically and lay on your stomach beside her. “do we like this girlfriend?”

“she’s very...” her left eye squinted as she thought. “eccentric. like, i don’t know how to take it. he seems happy though.”

“like, weird eccentric or crazy eccentric?”

“i don’t know. i haven’t breached the abortion topic with her yet. that could be very telling, don’t you think?” a playful smile hinted at her lips.

“totally telling,” you agreed.

minutes later, you were waving liza’s dad off as he pulled out of the driveway, liza standing a few steps in front of you. once he was gone and out of sight down the drive, liza turned back to you with a flourish and a cheshire grin spread on her face. you laughed as she pushed you into the house and began jumping excitedly. music started playing somewhere in between the jumping, which promptly turned to dancing in the kitchen. having a whole house to yourselves was always a thrilling thing.

it wasn’t long after that that liza told you to get ready for a party at the boneyard, as she called it. you had no idea whether to take that literally or just go along with it and be surprised. you went with the latter as you changed out of your airport clothes.

as you were heading that way, you thought about that one fling you had the last time you were here. what was his name? something rich, with a t. tom? trenton? no, no, something obscure. topper. god, you nearly forgot about him, but now that you were visiting again, you wondered if he was around. in the middle of the semester seemed like your luck would be out.

liza was slowing the car as you thought to text topper, just to see if he was here. you hadn’t talked since that summer—what was it? seven months ago? you hadn’t felt the need to keep in touch. didn’t he say to shoot him a text when you were in town again? you supposed there was no harm in doing so. what could be the worst thing to happen? maybe he wouldn’t be in town, but you wouldn’t be all that bummed about not having a hookup. you weren’t as ravenous as you were in the summer.

“are you getting out?”

your head turned and you found liza standing with the door open, her keys dangling from her hand. you hadn’t noticed that the car had parked or that you’d arrived at wherever the boneyard was. the beach was right in front of you, just over a small crest in the sand. you could smell it slipping into the car from where liza held the door propped open.

you opened your own door and hopped out, the gravel crunching under your shoes. you were glad you opted for a sweater with the early spring wind from the water as it blew over your shoulders and tangled into your hair.

a handful of people were already on the beach, stripped driftwood scattered around. most used them as seats while there was a fire already going and drinks in their hands. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, a giddiness filling your chest. this was exactly what you needed and the perfect setting for it.

liza pulled you into a group with some familiar faces that you had met the last time around. small talk was immediately flowing and you couldn’t care less for it, but you welcomed it anyways. liza was quick to guide you to the next group and the next before you finally got comfortable with a drink in hand. you sipped it steadily and ditched your shoes with liza’s, sticking them under a piece of driftwood behind where you stood. one of liza’s friends was asking you about your degree, something along the lines of why you had chosen it. you couldn’t comprehend it fully as your eyes drifted around the sand where people stood in small groups and larger ones.

standing near an overturned lifeguard post that was sure to be rotting away was none other than topper. he was facing away from you, but you had no doubt in your mind that it was him. his hair was blonder than it was when you met, funnily enough in the colder months. he wore a sweatshirt (blue or dark green, you couldn’t tell) paired with shorts and (surprisingly) sneakers.

you turned back to liza’s friend, giving them a somewhat vague but good answer. you then excused yourself and split from the group to head in topper’s direction. you stopped just outside of his larger group and crossed your arms, holding on to your beer by the neck loosely. it took a minute or two for topper to notice you, obviously feeling a presence behind him and doing a double-take. you already had a smirk on your face.

“holy shit, hi.” he blinked rapidly, turning away from his friends.

“hi,” you laughed. both of you went in for a hug at the same time. topper pressed your waist firmly to his while you hugged him around his shoulders.

“it’s good to see you,” you said.

“yeah, you too.” there was surprise in his voice and features as if he never thought he would see you again. your hand slipped down his arm as you pulled away before you took a step back, your hands resting at your sides.

“how have—“

“hey! the touron’s back!” a voice over his shoulder shouted.

you looked in its direction, finding a menacing smirk on an all too familiar face. you couldn’t remember his name as he sipped arrogantly on a beer, perched on the rotting lifeguard’s post.

you found your own sweet smile and raised your free hand to flip him off, which only egged him on more as his laughter filtered out. you were instantly annoyed, although you didn’t show it as he had brought unwanted attention to you and topper. you were sure most of the people in this larger group had been on topper’s deck that day in the summer.

topper looked at a loss for words when you turned back to him, his eyes still on you. you were glad he wasn’t laughing at his friend’s comment.

“can i get you another drink?” he gestured to the bottle between your fingers and you glanced down, seeing that it was a sip away from empty.

you gave him a nod as you said, “sure.”

the sun was setting by the time you got a refill, the glass cold against your palm, and wandered off with topper toward the water. conversation flowed as you caught up, shrugging as you told him all you had been doing was working and studying. you were lucky if you got to go out and have fun once in a while. topper expressed the same, talking animatedly about college and visiting home for the weekend to see his friends.

you wondered what he was like at college, if he spent most of his quieter hours in the library reading articles or if he was the type of friend to take up guard in the kitchen at parties. it was easy to imagine him in those situations since you hardly knew him. his smirking friend certainly didn’t seem the type.

you flicked some wet sand into the water, imagining the waves bringing it back to settle at your feet. topper stood beside you, the wind tousling his locks. you had just mentioned how your mother had bought a new coffee machine and how your dad canceled it because there was no point in having two. your mother just figured it would be easier having two so no one had to wait on the single-cup brewing system. it made you laugh and roll your eyes when you heard about it over the phone. topper had been smiling the whole time as he listened, his head inclined like you were whispering.

a rush of heat had slithered down between your thighs when you caught his eyes a couple times. he was just watching you as you spoke and you couldn’t help but smile flirtatiously, wondering if he was thinking what you were thinking.

how you were imagining last summer and the feel of his hands on your skin. you wished you’d gotten to know more of him; if he had any scars or little beauty marks that you didn’t notice the first time. it was easy to imagine it, but you had the burning curiosity to see for yourself.

you needed to take a break, to get a gulp of air before you drowned in the thought and jumped his bones right here and now.

“i should go find liza,” you said abruptly even though no one had been speaking. “i’ll see you around?”

topper nodded without a word and you caught a glimpse of confusion on his face, but you walked away. you let out a deep breath as you felt the wet sand turn dry under your feet. the sky was an inky pink behind you, windshields on cars reflecting it back.

you wrapped an arm around liza when you found her and she smiled knowingly. you didn’t have to ask if she’d seen you with topper, it was quite obvious in such an open area.

topper took up his place with the group you took him away from, but this time he was facing your way. you closed your lips around your bottle, staring back at him as he did the same thing. a shiver went up your legs, goosebumps exposing to the crisp air around you. you had to look away before you walked over there and kissed the hell out of him. your heart was behaving rather poorly now.

but could you help it? every time he looked at you as the sky grew darker and the bonfire grew larger, every obscene image possible took shelter behind your eyes. your mouth dried out so many times that you eventually had to get another drink and another. topper wasn’t making it easy and you started digging holes with your feet just to stay put.

you wouldn’t go to him, you made that very clear to yourself. if topper wanted you, then he’d have to make the first move. stubborn as it was maybe, but you’d torture him if you had to like he was torturing you now with all of these looks under his lashes. christ.

“my god,” liza said into your ear as she stood on the driftwood behind you, arms around your neck. “you’d think topper was a starving man.”

“shut up,” you laughed and looked at a fallen log in the fire pit.

“i’m serious. you guys have been undressing each other for an hour and a half now. just go over there and make out with him.”

you smiled into your drink, keeping your eyes far away from topper, or else you might actually do just that.

“there’s hardly any pda going on as it is, we need entertainment,” liza sighed.

“there’s your entertainment,” you nodded your head toward a rowdy group of young high schoolers shouting at each other. three of them looked angry as all hell and there was a bit of shoving before one of the older college boys broke it apart.

“that was short-lived,” liza frowned as she hopped down from the driftwood.

“you want another drink?” you asked her as she finished off her last one.

“yes, please!” she beamed as you took her bottle and tossed them into a nearby trash bin. you headed for the stocked cooler and grabbed two beers. as you stood, topper was making his way over.

“you have any plans after this?” he asked without much preamble.

you smiled, pulling the tops off and taking a sip from your own, eyeing him as you did. that flicker of heat made its way back between your thighs, warming you all over. you couldn’t deny the suggestion in his question excited you and you were giving yourself a mental pat on the back for being patient.

“nope, i’m all yours.”

topper smiled slowly, his eyes flicking to your lips as you licked them. okay, maybe jumping his bones here and now wasn’t a terrible idea. but you needed to string this out, you wanted it to last—whatever it was.

“i don’t want to leave yet though. i’ll come find you?” it implied that you’d make him wait longer than you really would, but it was satisfying to see him practically drool at the thought of what was to come.

liza was giddy when you went back over, either for the beer or when you told her that you’d be going off with topper for a little. she smirked, knowing exactly what for, but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t leaving anytime soon, and not without you.

you didn’t make topper wait long. when you were ready, another beer in and a relieved bladder, you touched topper’s elbow as he talked with his friends closer to the cooler. the ice was partly melted, but there were still plenty of drinks left. the fire was feeding off sweltering heat, and with the cold wind, it was perfect.

“hey, you ready?” you asked when topper turned to you.

you weren’t sure exactly what topper had in mind when he had asked you if you were busy for the rest of the night, but not having a clue thrilled you a little.

“yeah,” he nodded and took the last sip from his beer. his slid his hand up, capturing yours before tugging you along toward the parked cars. hardly anyone was over there. you could faintly hear voices and sounds from inside a few cars, some windows cracked. your fingertips warmed as your heart beat, pushing blood to every corner.

topper’s jeep came in sight and you tried to remember the inside. was there enough room for both of you in the back seat? or maybe you’d share one of the front ones. it didn’t matter to you, as long as he put his lips to use.

your back met the side of the jeep as topper leaned his hands on the window, caging you in. you were quick to close the space between you, either the beer taking the reins or your lack of patience from the past few hours of being here and having a staring contest with him. your breaths mingled and your hands grabbed fistfuls of his sweatshirt to pull him closer. the familiar tingles spread between your thighs and you wasted no time in showing him how impatient you were.

“i don’t think either of us is fit enough to drive, topper,” you breathed when you had the chance.

there was no way you could drive with everything you drank. topper tasted like the beer too, but you weren’t sure if he was fit enough to drive either. you didn’t want to chance it, nor could you wait that long.

“what do you want to do?” he asked against the skin of your neck, his nose skimming up the side. he pressed a few kisses, getting closer to your jaw.

you tilted your head back against the door and sighed, closing your eyes momentarily then opening them to find a few stars winking at you. there were so many once you focused on them. topper interrupted your gaze, pulling you by the back of your head to his lips. he kissed you as if you were his last meal, his tongue licking into your mouth. you moaned, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair. you remembered him being this much of a good kisser.

“let’s find a spot on the beach,” you suggested, only getting a kiss on the corner of his mouth before he pulled away.

his eyes were blown wide, his hair ruffled. if you looked hard enough, his cheeks were sure to be flushed, both from alcohol and excitement.

“seriously?” he asked, his hand stilling on the back of your head.

you laughed and nodded, brushing a lock of his hair. “yeah, why not?”

a cold wind blew, tossing your hair into your eyes. topper caught it and pushed it back to its spot behind your ear.

“i think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he joked.

you grinned and slid your hands down his chest. “do you have a towel?”

topper had to pick his jaw up off the gravel before he finally moved away from you and opened his jeep. he ruffled around in the back then finally pulled out a blanket.

“very resourceful,” you commented as he closed the door.

“never know when you might need it,” he said as he threw it around you, shielding your bare legs from the wind. he turned again to the jeep and bent over the driver’s seat to get something. you saw it was a condom when he turned back and closed the door.

“also resourceful.”

he laughed then took your hand back in his. you headed back toward the beach but in the opposite direction of where the bonfire was. it was quieter the further you got, nothing but the waves coming into the shore. it was darker too; all the more private.

topper took the blanket from you and settled it down. you took a seat as he fixed a corner, swiping sand that had gotten on to it. once he sat beside you, he pulled you back against his lips.

you knelt up and scooted closer, placing your hands on his shoulders for leverage as you swung a leg over his waist. you sat in his lap and hummed as you felt him against your thigh. he squeezed you closer in response.

“i’ve never fucked someone on a beach before,” you admitted as you slipped your hands under his sweatshirt and the t-shirt beneath, pushing them up.

“i’ve never fucked anyone outside before.”

“what?” you pulled away to look down at him, your hands freezing on his chest. he was breathing deeply and you swore you felt the patter of his heart against your fingertips. “really?”

“yeah,” he shrugged and glanced over your shoulder toward the water. “just never had the chance to try.”

“what do you mean? you live on an island.” you let his clothes fall back down, stopping above his belly button. “i’ve been here twice and i’ve seen at least twenty ideal places that would be perfect for it.”

“i don’t know, i never asked anyone and no one asked me.” he shrugged again and you knew you were looking way too into this, but it seemed impossible that he hadn’t done this at least once before. you knew that if you lived here, you would’ve done it countless times.

your hands slid back up. “well, tonight’s your lucky night.”

you pulled topper back to your lips, tongues meeting. his hands rubbed along your back and you couldn’t help but arch into him as he slipped them beneath your sweater. his hands were so warm that it felt as if he set fire to your skin. you moaned and sunk your teeth into his lip briefly. a shiver wrecked your body just as topper’s hands came around to your front, sliding up to your breasts. you felt your nipples peek at the contact and topper made it even worse when his thumbs brushed over them.

“christ, it’s cold,” you mumbled as another shiver came and went.

“mhmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure that’s what it is.”

you laughed and wanted to swat at him. instead, you swallowed that little bit of nerves edging close to the surface and reached a hand to his lap. you watched as topper’s lips parted as your hand squeezed him over his shorts. the fabric was soft as topper grew harder. you relished in his expression, the way his eyebrows were drawn together, and how his jaw flinched when he closed his mouth.

topper’s hands fell away as you stood. he looked ready to pull you back down until he realized what you were doing and watched closely as you pulled your shorts and underwear down together. you kicked them aside and shivered as another wind blew.

sitting over topper again, you knelt up onto your knees to pull his shorts down. you couldn’t help swallowing at the sight of him. as dark as it was, you could still see him pretty well. your hand wrapped around him, solid and warm in your palm. topper groaned and leaned back on his hands.

“where’s the condom?” you asked as you stroked him, not at all in a rush with your hand around him.

topper registered your question and patted around the blanket for a moment before holding a square packet between his fingers. you took it from him and bit down on an edge, ripping it open with your free hand. you took the rubber between your fingers and spat the packaging somewhere. topper’s breathing became swallow all the while you stroked him. you stopped and rolled the condom onto him then leaned forward for a kiss.

topper reciprocated, his hands grabbing ahold of your hips until he pulled away to look up at you.

“what if you get sand in your vagina?” he asked, an innocent tone wrapping around his voice.

you couldn’t help the smile or the way your eyebrows furrowed all the while wanting to laugh. that’s what he’s thinking about?

“nothing that hasn’t happened before. it usually takes a couple of days to get rid of but i’ll be fine.”

the topic didn’t stop there. “does it hurt?”

“no, i’ll be fine,” a small laugh slipped out. “that’s why we have a blanket. and i’m on top. can we stop talking about sand getting in my vagina now? it’s kind of killing the mood.”

“sorry,” he shook his head, an embarrassed expression taking form.

you snorted, laughter bubbling up your throat. how did that question even come about in his head? you supposed it was nice of him to care about such a thing. you hoped your laughter didn’t make him feel more embarrassed.

his expression morphed into an amused one and he joined in, laughing at his odd question. you both shook with laughter for a few moments until you calmed down. topper squeezed his fingers on your hips, dragging his palms down your thighs. you brought your lips back to his and your hands to his chest. pushing him gently, you went with him as he lay down. you stayed against him for a couple more seconds before sitting up over him and finding him in your hand again.

topper groaned and gripped your thighs as you brought him into your heat. you couldn’t find your breath as you took him all the way in and sat over him, feeling completely and utterly filled. he was in your stomach, under your skin, everywhere.

“fuck, yes,” you panted, branding your palms on his stomach, pushing his sweatshirt and shirt up again. he was flushed from head to toe, something you were slowly building up to be.

you started off rocking back and forth slowly, feeling him pull and glide inside of you. when you dragged your clit against his skin, which was getting hotter and hotter with the friction, you couldn’t help the way your body tightened around him.

“y/n. oh, fuck—you gotta bounce for me,” topper choked out underneath you, moving his hands to your waist to grip tightly.

you nodded without words, not really finding any with your tongue tied. your hands pushed against his stomach as you lifted yourself up, letting almost all of him leave you empty. then you slammed down, moaning as loud as you could. you didn’t care. not one bit. you were still aware of the bonfire happening yards away, but you didn’t care if someone from the party was walking this way and heard you. let them hear how good topper felt inside you.

a quicker pace was set, sweat building in the creases of your knees and under your hands planted against topper. you loved this. all you could think about was how good it felt, how you fucked topper hard and fast—and how you were getting to fuck him again. it was so much better than the first time, even though you loved having him behind you then. this was just as good.

topper was sitting up again, your sweater rubbing against his and your body feeling way too hot. his hands gripped your ass tightly, helping you rock your hips over him. you were close, closer every time your clit brushed against him at this angle.

it became too much very quickly. you held on to him by his hair at the back of his head, gripping so tightly your knuckles were probably white, and reached your other hand down to touch yourself. your moans were growing higher and more frequent and topper was full-blown panting in your face. when you reached your end, a strangled sound came out of you. you stilled over topper, pulling more of his hair as you came over him.

not long after when you were moving again over him, your mouth on his neck and arms around his shoulders, his grip tightened on your ass as he came. you hummed and gave a few pecks just before he let go and fell onto his back. you followed, moving off of him and laying on your side.

“how long are you here?” topper asked minutes later, his breathing leveling out.

“i leave sunday morning,” you said, blinking tired eyes open as a wind blew over you.

“can i see you again?”

you smiled, your eyes shifting to topper beside you. “don’t you mean can you fuck me again?”

his lips spread wide and if his eyes were open, you had a feeling he’d be rolling them. laughing, you pushed yourself onto your elbow and touched his cheek.

“liza is having a party tomorrow. you should come,” you said quietly, leaning down to brush your lips over his.

“okay.”

“that was easy.”

“it doesn’t take much to convince me,” his voice was tired, piquing your interest.

“am i that good?”

all you got in return was a low laugh.

“i’m taking that as a ‘hell yes’ so thank you very much.”

topper let out a noise just before he moved, pushing you onto your back. his lips landed over yours, gentle and thorough.

saturday

it was a blur of drinks and games and dancing at liza’s house. every room was filled and it was hot for a few hours until you stationed yourself out on the deck with topper. you could lie and say that you didn’t sit out there just to make out with him, but that’s exactly what you did. it was perfect—even more perfect when his shitty friends didn’t show up with him. if you hadn’t been so distracted by his mouth, you would’ve thanked him then and there.

hours later, you had met topper at the front door. you informed liza of your new plans and she was more than happy to get you out of her hair, especially when her eyes latched on to someone and she started to drool into her drink. you grinned fiendishly at her and quickly went on your way.

topper was unlocking his front door and your legs were still a little tingly from the drinks you had over the past few hours. your hand absentmindedly ran along his forearm, needing to feel him so you could stay grounded and alert.

“if you don’t open this door, i’m going to fall asleep right on this porch.”

topper laughed, his keys jingling in his hand. it was a few more seconds of him trying without a light until he eventually found the keyhole and the door swung open. there was a rug that the bottom of the door brushed over and topper walked ahead of you, leading you in by the arm you refused to let go of. he was warm and solid. if you let go, you might evaporate.

your eyes adjusted with the lack of light in the entryway as topper closed the door behind you, sliding the lock into place. your skin felt like it was humming, the hairs on your arm standing up as you stayed close to topper. his shoes scuffed as he kicked them off, his keys dropping onto a table near the door while his other hand wrapped around your wrist. he lured you in by heat alone and you leaned in. your lips landed on his shirt, but you moved them until you found warm skin past the neckline.

reaching down, you found the strap of your sandals and worked to get them undone. why you wore sandals was completely lost on you as you struggled. topper grabbed ahold of you so you wouldn’t fall while your lips pressed a few more kisses into his neck. his hands were searing against your shirt and your skin pricked with the need to have them everywhere.

you kicked off your shoes, feeling your bare foot brush other pairs as topper grabbed ahold of your neck. you didn’t know where he was leading you until his lips landed against your cheek. he adjusted to where he meant to land and opened your lips with his own, coaxing your tongue with his. you moaned as if you were melting, your hands moving along his back as your body relaxed into his. another noise slipped from you, your hands moving down to his hips. one of them you let venture further until you felt him straining against his jeans.

topper gasped, his breath fanning over your mouth and down your neck. you grinned as you squeezed him just so you could see how he’d react.

it was cut short by light flooding the room and burning behind your eyelids. you flinched, parting from topper and squinting.

you were doing so well with no interruptions.

“topper? oh—i’m sorry,” a voice came from your left and you held your eyes open long enough to see a woman standing there, her hand falling from the light switch.

you suddenly remembered where you were holding topper and you dropped your hand, a hot blush crawling up onto your cheeks. you shuffled away from topper faster than he did at composing himself. was it wishful thinking to hope this woman didn’t see where your hand was placed a second ago?

“mom,” topper breathed, hiding his lack of breath well. your own heart was beating so loudly in your ears you figured the woman could hear it too in the entryway.

you averted your eyes, embarrassment dousing you from head to toe at the fact that you’d been caught by topper’s mother.

“we’ll be in my room,” topper said. his hand engulfed yours and you couldn’t remember how to use your feet or legs. “night.”

you kept your head down as topper tugged you past his mother, her robe flowing with the movement. he guided you through the unlit house until you came to his room.

“christ,” he sighed and dropped your hand to close the door. “i’m sorry about that.”

“it’s inevitable when you live with parents,” you shrugged and laughed, looking over your shoulder as topper rubbed his hands down his face. when he dropped them, he shook his head with an amused smile.

you turned back to his room and glanced around, the light a little brighter from the open windows. the decorations were the same, but for the most part it didn’t look all that lived in. you moved to his bed and sat at the end of it, running your hands along the comforter and remembering the last time you were here.

your eyes found topper’s like a magnet. your skin pricked with that awareness of him. reaching, you pulled your shirt off and let it fall beside you. topper watched, his eyes following every movement you made, his gaze moving over you like liquid.

you held your hand out towards him, coaxing him over where you sat. he approached until he was in front of you and even then, you pulled him closer with your hands on his hips again. your eyes fluttered shut as he came between your legs and touched your face, bending down to plant kisses on your forehead, cheeks, and nose. your thighs tightened around him, your hand dropping back to its original spot before you were interrupted. topper kissed you on the mouth then, his tongue hot and invading.

you pushed your palm into him a few times and rubbed until his breath was heavy in your mouth. even though you were kissing him and delighting in the ways he could use his tongue, your mouth felt dry for him. a moment later, your fingers glided up to the button of his jeans, working determinedly to unfasten them.

when his shirt was off and his jeans were unbuttoned, you nudged him backward, slipping from the bed and onto your knees. you pressed your lips along his stomach, feeling it tighten under your mouth as his hands brushed your hair back.

“tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” you said quietly, looking up at him as your fingers fisted the waistband of his jeans, slipping into his boxers too.

topper heaved a breath and nodded. you pressed another kiss just beside his belly button as you tugged on his bottoms, pulling them past his hips and leaving them to rest just above his knees.

you didn’t waste any more time. you took him into your mouth within the first few seconds of him smacking his stomach. he moaned with your lips around him and held your face as you licked him thoroughly. you couldn’t stop once you started and it took everything in you not to give him that release as his hand tightened on your face and his hips began to move.

he didn’t protest or get upset when you pulled away, licking your lips and standing. he just kissed you deeply and you wondered if he liked the taste of himself in your mouth. you certainly did.

all of your blood was gathered at your center. your skin was bubbling to a boil and topper helped you cool down, shedding the rest of the clothes between you. your hands wandered all over him as you sat back on the bed, pulling him with you.

you separated for only a second to kiss just under his ear, panting, “i want you inside me. now. i have an IUD.”

topper’s hands paused, his fingertips brushing the underside of your breast. “no condom?” he asked, pulling away further to meet your eyes.

you nodded, biting your lip to keep from putting him inside you now. “as long as you’re okay with it?”

“are you sure?” his eyebrows furrowed and you couldn’t tell if he was worried about you or if he really didn’t want to.

you nodded again as you were having trouble finding words without your breath. “have you been tested lately?”

“before i came home. i’m clean,” he said, his hands moving again and squeezing your thighs.

you grinned as your stomach rolled. you pulled him back to you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and smiling against his lips. “me too,” you managed to say and laughed as the excitement poured over.

topper’s skin suddenly felt too hot, but you couldn’t pull your hands away from him if you tried. more blood rushed in between your legs. topper kissed you a few times before pulling away and leaning forward, his hand moving to your lower back to hold you upright while his other landed on the comforter to hold himself up. you drew your legs up around him and tugged him closer, breathing heavily as you anticipated his next move.

he swallowed thickly and averted his eyes down, his hand leaving your skin to grab ahold of himself. you bit your lip as you watched, seeing him swollen and ready and practically dripping. your stomach rolled into a tight ball as his hips grew closer and you bit your lips shut as a noise of surprise left you, floating around the room, when topper dragged his head along your folds painstakingly slow.

as much as you wanted to close your eyes to completely let your senses take over, you lifted them to topper’s face. he closed his eyes as he poked his head at your entrance. when he started to slip inside slowly, his mouth opened and his hand went back to hold you. you held your breath as you felt him inch after inch, filling you and stretching you.

his head fell to your shoulder once he was completely inside, a muffled curse leaving his lips.

“oh my god,” you said at the same time as he said, “god, you feel amazing.”

his hips retracted slowly, just as slow as how he entered, and his lips guided back to yours.

“c-can you move back a little?” he asked. the angle was probably straining him unlike you.

you nodded and didn’t have to do all that much as his hand kept you close to him, keeping himself inside of you, as you moved further onto the bed. you laid on your back and moaned as topper started to move, pinning your hips below his.

“you need to be quiet,” he said.

“why?”

“because my mom is right down the hall.”

“so? she obviously knows what we’re doing.”

“still.”

“oh, topper,” you moaned a little louder, a smile curling the corners of your lips.

topper’s hand landed over your mouth. you laughed into his palm and opened up to bite on his finger.

“you should move that hand a little lower,” you suggested, rolling your hips into his.

topper laughed breathily and a moment later, moved his hand to your neck. his hips drew back then and he thrusted, harder than before.

“oh, fuck,” you panted, tightening your hold on him.

“you like that?” he asked, his fingers flexing on your throat.

“mhm,” you managed, your face screwing up. “just like that.”

you sucked in a gasp, your breath staying in your lungs as topper did it again. you couldn’t look at him, couldn’t do anything but feel everything he was doing to you from your throat to him between your thighs. your back arched, pushing your breasts into his chest. you cried out the next time he thrust, hitting you so deeply, your nipples peeked to hardened points. fuck.

“don’t stop,” you couldn’t stop gasping. “please, don’t stop. it feels so good.”

tears pricked your eyes as he did it again, picking up a rhythm and sticking to it. his hand let go of your throat and gathered your hands into his, pinning them above your head as he fucked into you. the harder he went, the more your nails dug into the backs of his hands. his fingers tightened over yours and you cried out with your hips smacking. he didn’t cover your mouth this time, suddenly not caring if his mom heard you. you didn’t care either, you wanted this to go on all night. hopefully it would.

tears spilled when he didn’t let up his grip or his pace. they fell more as he drove into you quicker. it hurt so good, you couldn’t breathe. you didn’t dare open your eyes to see if he was enjoying it too. you hoped he was, you hoped he was loving pinning your hands down, driving into you like an animal. you didn’t know topper had this in him.

his hand let go of one of yours but you left it where it was as his thumb flicked your clit. your breaths grew higher within seconds and you tightened around him, your free hand flying to his arm where your nails dug in deep. you couldn’t stop the cry bubbling in your chest even if you wanted to. it was going to come out whether you liked it or not and topper wasn’t doing anything to muffle it.

“fuck—i’m going to come,” he sighed, his voice strained. was he losing it too? “come for me, please, baby. come with me.”

“top—” your muscles spasmed and everything exploded. you cried out his name however many times as you came over him, feeling him do the same as he thrusted and emptied inside you. his spurts were heavy and warm as his face buried into your neck, his mouth slick one moment then his teeth latching on to you. you grabbed the back of his head and pulled at his hair as he bit you, not hard enough to break the skin, but it still hurt so good.

“oh my god,” you panted as topper lay limp on you. you could feel both of your orgasms dissipating as your juices mixed and dripped out of you.

having let go of your neck, topper licked over the pulsing spot and lifted his head up to look down at you.

“are you okay?” he asked, sweat collected along his hairline. his thumb brushed your drying tears away.

“that was—i—topper,” you shook your head, wishing you could find the words. “i feel very good right now.”

he laughed, shaking your body with his and making you moan as you felt him rub inside of you. “i’m glad,” he said, kissing the underside of your jaw. “i think we need water and snacks so i’m going to go get some.”

“mmm. that’s a good idea.” you couldn’t bring yourself to wipe his sweat away just to feel it on your fingertips. you were spent.

he smiled and pecked your numb lips before sliding out of you and getting up.

cleaned up and under the covers, topper laid out an array of snacks and water bottles. you sat propped up against his pillows while he lay on his side, his head propped against his hand.

“will you come back next summer?” he asked, popping a piece of fruit into his mouth.

you reached for the cereal bowl of chocolate and stopped the smile from stretching across your face. “maybe.”

“i was looking for an answer more along the lines of yes.”

“you’ll have to be more persuasive then,” you hummed and chewed.

“i can be persuasive.” he was grinning and you couldn’t help thinking that he never looked better. tired, hair messy, dressed in just boxers, completely sated.

“oh yeah?” you raised a brow at him.

“mhmm,” he nodded, putting the fruit down and moving onto his hands and knees to crawl towards you. he grabbed ahold of the comforter and pulled it back a little, revealing your chest to the cool air. his head lowered to press a single kiss to the swell of your breast. then he moved to the other. he pressed a final kiss to your shoulder.

“how’s that?”

you shrugged the shoulder he just kissed and kept the smile off your face. mostly.

topper grinned again and it reached his eyes. he looked over you, down your chest, then slid his hand under the blanket to your thigh. “am i getting closer?”

you gasped and grabbed onto the back of his neck as his fingers ran up the inside of your thigh. heat swirled between your legs. “definitely.”

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes⭐️

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[another-tmnt-writer]

Truth or Dare?

Raphael x Reader

Author: Admin Mo

Summary: When Mikey needs another actor for his film project, Raph gets roped into it. He didn’t, however, expect for his costar to be so cool.

Note: There are not NEARLY enough college au fics for the bayverse boys, so have this as my first contribution. <3

Warnings: Swears, mentions of drinking, plenty of fluff

Word Count: 3.9k

“Raph, PLEEEEEAAAASE!!!” Mikey folded his hands together, pleading. “We need actors for our project and our group members can’t be in it.”

Mikey, as part of his endeavor to explore every creative program at the university the turtles were currently attending, was taking a filmmaking class. And, as a part of that class, he and his fellow classmates were required to make short projects in order to learn the basics of filmmaking, from writing to directing to using the equipment to editing. As an added bonus because his professor was so especially cruel, none of the people in his group could appear in his project, and while they had managed to recruit some of their classmates to fill in the smaller roles, one of the main roles was still unclaimed.

Raph scoffed. “Mikey, you know I can’t act for shit.”

“You don’t have to actually be good at it!” He pleaded. “You should see some of the other projects. No one in the program is good at acting.”

Raph was quiet for a second, his large arms crossed in front of him, thinking. “How long is it gonna take?”

“Few hours.” Mikey shrugged. He raised an eyebrow. “And your costar is really, really hot.”

Raph sighed, disgruntled. “When?”

“YES! DUDE THANK YOU SO MUCH! YOU WON’T REGRET IT!” Mikey ran and returned with a script and a schedule, shoving it into his older brother’s hands. “We film tomorrow!”

Raph’s eyes widened. “TOMORROW?!”

***

Raph went with Mikey to where the rest of his group was meeting to film their project. He hadn’t really had time to look at the script and Mikey assured him that they’d be filming in small enough chunks that he wouldn’t need to have very much memorized at a time. He also didn’t really know what kind of movie it was and he didn’t care; he just couldn’t wait until it was over.

A few minutes after they arrived, so did his costar. And god, he couldn’t stop staring. Mikey was right. God, why was Mikey always right?

“I am so sorry I’m late. The bus almost hit a pedestrian and it was a whole thing.” You apologized.

“Don’t worry about it!” Mikey waved off your concern. “This is my brother, Raph.”

“Nice to meet you, Raph. I’m (Y/N).” You introduced, a warm smile on your face.

Raph didn’t miss the way your eyes lingered on him, but instead of the looks disdain he usually got, instead it seemed to be curiosity. Awe, even? Weird, he decided, but not unwelcome.

It was a long, awkward moment before he realized he’d better respond. “Oh, uh, nice to meet you too.”

“Um, you guys can get to know each other a little better. We’ve gotta get the equipment set up.” Mikey said, leaving the two of you on your own.

The filming location was a place you were very familiar with: the library. Particularly, in front of the cozy little coffee shop in the library.

“I didn’t really, uh, look at the script, but I’m guessing they needed a monster for a horror movie or something…” Raph flipped through the pages, skimming.

“It’s a rom com.” You corrected quietly. “I’m the main character. You’re the love interest.”

If Raph could physically blush, he was sure his cheeks would rival the color of his mask. “…Oh.”

“Is that alright?” You asked.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s fine, I just…” He chuckled to himself. “I ain’t ever acted in anything before, let alone anything romantic.”

“It’s not too much, I don’t think.” You reassured him. “I’m pretty sure the most they’ll have us do is awkwardly brush hands. It’s a coffee shop meet-cute.”

“Gotcha.” And while he was relieved, he was also a little…disappointed? Huh. Weird. “So, uh, what’s yer major?”

“I’m a film major. I’m in Mikey’s class and they needed actors, so I’m paying it forward in case I need someone in my project. What’s yours?”

“I’m undecided. Just, uh, taking some time to figure things out, you know. I never really had any…school experience before this.”

“That’s a lot to adjust to.”

“Yeah, it is. I’m getting used to it, though.”

“That’s good! If you need any help with anything, let me know. I’ve picked up a bunch of good tips and tricks.”

He chuckled. “I will, thanks.”

“Do you have snapchat?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“One second.” You fished your phone out of your bag and unlocked it, opening the app to your snapcode, which he scanned and added you. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Raph took some more time reading over the script to get the gist of the scene and you were right. Indeed, it was a rom com. Not his preferred genre, by any means, but maybe he’d warm up to it a bit over the course of the day.

“Hey (Y/N)?” Mikey called from over where they had the camera set up on the tripod. “Do you know how to white-balance this thing? Everything is orange for some reason. Which is a great color, but I’m sure Smith will dock us points for it.”

“Oh, I’ve got you.” You nodded. You looked up at Raph, your purse in hand. “Will you hold this for a second?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” He nodded, holding out a giant three-fingered hand to take the bag from you. He watched you walk over to where the rest of the group was standing, crowded around the camera. You worked your magic, shuffling through the menu and helping adjust the camera correctly. Raph couldn’t stop staring. You looked so focused. So passionate. He could tell you really liked film and everything it entailed and he wished he could just find something he cared about as much as you cared about your major.

“Awesome.” He heard Mikey say, his eyes fixed on the camera’s screen. “Thanks!”

“Of course!” You walked back over to where Raph was and he handed you your bag back. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mikey walked over to the two of you.

“You guys ready? I think we’re good to start now.”

“All set.” You confirmed, giving him a thumbs-up, and Raph nodded.

***

Raph might have to reconsider his stance on this acting thing. Did he think he was all that good at it? No. But so long as he had you as a costar, he’d act willingly in any project Mikey (or you) needed him for. And at the end of the shoot, he ended up having a really good time. So much so that when you guys were all done, he was…sad. Like, really sad about it.

You parted ways. You weren’t in any of his classes, so Raph wasn’t really sure if he’d see you around that much. And he didn’t see you around…until a few weeks later.

He was at the library studying with his brothers at their favorite table when suddenly, his phone buzzed, a message from snapchat coming in. He looked at the notification, doing a double-take when he read your name there. And when he reached to answer it, he moved too fast and knocked his shell-shaped cell phone off of the table.

Shit.

He bent down to pick it up and when he opened the snapchat, he was surprised to see…the back of his shell? It was captioned: “I spy with my little eye…Something red and green 😉”

Immediately, he whipped around, and sure enough, nestled in a table by the windows was you, looking at him over the top of your laptop screen. You giggled when he spotted you, waving.

Raph nudged Mikey, who was sitting across from him and Mikey traced Raph’s eyeline to where you were, his face immediately lighting up.

“Oh! Hey (Y/N)!” Mikey waved. “You wanna sit with us?”

“Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah!” Mikey motioned you over. “The more the merrier! We can pull up a chair over here on the end.”

So, you gathered your stuff while the guys rearranged some things, putting you on the end of the table, right between Mikey and Raph. When you got over there, you noticed they were sitting with the other two giant mutated turtles on campus, who you had heard of, but hadn’t met yet.

“(Y/N), these are our brothers. Leo’s over there in the blue, our fearless leader. And this is Donatello, the one we go to for homework help.”

“Not tonight you aren’t. This paper is due at midnight and it is…” Donnie glanced down at the clock on his laptop and as soon as he did, he started typing impossibly faster. “Eleven thirty-seven. Do not look at me or breathe in my direction.”

“Noted.” Mikey nodded, a trace of fear in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you, (Y/N). You’re in one of Mikey’s classes, right?”

“Yep! I’m in his film class.” You smiled, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “I got the pleasure of costarring with this one.” You nudged Raph lightly, causing him to smile the most genuine smile Mikey had ever seen on his older brother’s face.

Huh. Mikey took note, something devious stirring in the back of his mind. Interesting…

“What did you get on that, by the way?” You asked.

“We got an A! Well, Minus. But you know how Smith is.”

“Dude that’s awesome!” You bumped your fist against his. “Good job. I’m pretty sure my group got a B, but we’re not mad about it. C’s get degrees, as they say.”

“Cheers to that.” Leo chuckled.

“What are you working on today, Raph?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that sent his heart racing in a way he could not explain.

“I have a paper for my Writing 150 class.”

“Oof that sucks. Who do you have?”

“Trainor.”

“Ouch. She hated me.” You grimaced, shaking your head. “She found out I was bi and it was all over for me.”

“Did you report her? I’m pretty sure you can report her for that sort of thing.” Raph asked, trying not to get heated over it. He was pretty sure she didn’t like him very much either, but it was probably due to the fact that he was a giant green turtle. “That’s bullshit.”

“I’m in the process of that right now.” You nodded. “She’s a bitch. I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything about it though.”

“Keep me posted. I might file something too if she doesn’t stop glaring at me during class.” Raph grumbled. “It’s annoying.”

“That would be annoying. Her beady little eyes glaring at you for two agonizing hours of ‘This is how to correctly use a comma’.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. It is.”

You glanced at your phone, which buzzed with a text from one of your roommates. “Oh! Uh, do you guys have any plans this weekend?”

“Nope. Why?” Mikey asked, curiosity seeping into his voice.

“My roommate is throwing a party, if you guys wanna come. It’ll be pretty chill. Drinks, pizza, some music.”

“Oh hell yes.” Mikey nodded. He looked at Leo. “Leo, can we?”

“I don’t see why not.” Leo shrugged. “Sounds like a good time.”

“Is there a dress code?” Mikey asked. Now that he was finally allowed to socialize, he didn’t want to fuck it up.

“Nope. Just casual. Come as you are.”

“Do you need us to bring anything?”

“If you guys have a drink of choice, bring that, I guess, but otherwise, my roommate’s boyfriend works at a pizza place, so we get a pretty good discount and we have literally so much wine.”

“That’s amazing.” Mikey nodded, making a mental note to look into jobs at a pizza place later.

“We’ll bring a veggie tray.” Donnie said, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his laptop until finally, he stopped. “I finished, by the way.”

“Good job, dude!” Mikey gave him a thumbs up. “You wanna write mine next?”

“Ha.” Donnie stared at him. “Funny.”

“What’s your paper on, Raph? Maybe I can help.”

Raph turned his laptop towards you. “We have to write it about like growing up. You can, uh, read it if you want. I don’t mind. I’m kinda stuck right now anyway.”

“Okay.” You agreed, switching his laptop for yours. You winked. “Trade ya.”

“What are you writing about?” He asked, scrolling to the top of your document.

“Women in Film.” You shot finger guns at him. “I’m about to make some Film Bois REALLLL mad.”

“Roast ‘em, (Y/N).” Mikey laughed, knowing all too well exactly which film boys you were talking about. He was not a fan.

“That’s the plan.” You chuckled and then started reading over Raph’s paper. You had known before meeting them that they hadn’t exactly had the best childhood, but…wow was it eye-opening reading the experience from his eyes. “Holy shit.”

“That bad?” He joked, trying to read your expression.

“No, it’s…Raph, this is really good, but wow. You guys went through a lot, huh?”

“Yeah…” He shrugged. “It wasn’t all bad, but it sure wasn’t normal by any means.”

“Mmm…” You nodded, looking up at him. “I mean, normal is kinda overrated.”

He chuckled. “I’m glad ya think so. Not many people do.”

You shrugged, smiling softly. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m not like many people.”

***

“(Y/N), this place is as clean as it’s gonna get. It’s a party. It’ll be messed up in,” your roommate, Haley, glanced down at her watch, “like twenty minutes.”

“I know, I just…I’m nervous. These guys are basically superheroes. I want to make a good impression.”

“Fair point.”

You swept the kitchen floor and got out the cutest paper plates you had in the cupboard as well as some solo cups and plastic wine glasses. If you could avoid broken glass today, that was probably the move.

The doorbell buzzed and your heart raced, but it was just your other roommate’s boyfriend with the pizza.

“Is Darcy here?” He asked.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you explained, helping him get the pizza and breadsticks and everything set up on the counter. He’d also brought a few two-liters of Pepsi, which was good. You put it next to the giant jug of fruit punch you’d bought at the grocery store. It was important to make sure your non-drinking friends had something to drink, too.

A few minutes after, guests started arriving. Darcy came downstairs and started up her iconic party playlist. Your neighbors popped in. It was easier to invite them and let them have a good time with you than have them call security on you guys for throwing a party, even if it was the weekend and it was only nine.

You turned off the lamps in the living room and instead set your strip lights to party mode, causing them to cycle through a bunch of colors in time with the music. It was then that the doorbell rang again and you rushed to the mirror to check yourself once more. You adjusted your hair, straightened out your top, and checked your teeth for food. Nope, you were good.

So, with the rest of the hosts distracted, you opened the door. On the other side of it were four tall, green gentlemen, one of them carrying a veggie tray.

“Hey guys, come on in!”

You moved out of the way so they could step inside.

Mikey’s eyes widened, looking into the living room full of dancing college kids. “Woahhhhh this is awesome!”

“Glad you think so.” You laughed. “There’s food and drinks in here, the bathroom is in the hallway, and everyone else seems to be either in the living room or the back yard.”

“Where do you want this veggie tray?” Donnie asked.

“Thank you so much for bringing this, by the way! You can set it over by the pizza boxes. I can get a spoon for the dip.” You said, walking towards the silverware drawer and producing a spoon while Donnie popped the lid off of the plastic serving tray and opened up the dip. You handed him the spoon.

The guys were each sporting their signature color, but they were wearing clothes you hadn’t seen them in before. Usually, Raph liked to wear a large gray hoodie, but today, he was sporting a black t-shirt and an impossibly large red flannel with some jeans. It looked good on him. Like, really good.

Apparently, he was thinking the same thing, because as soon as you were free, he walked up to you and nudged you gently. “You look really good.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth and you wished you could blame it on wine, but you hadn’t even had a sip yet. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.”

Had you worn a red top on purpose? Yes, absolutely. Would you admit to it, though? No, definitely not.

But Mikey noticed. Oh, Mikey noticed everything. And he couldn’t help but think that you and his older brother would make quite the couple. Maybe there was something he could do to just…give it a little push.

***

The time came later, when the party was finally starting to wind down. Some people had left. Your neighbors had gone home, and you’d switched the strip lights to a light, warm color. You’d also switched the upbeat party playlist for something chill to play in the background. The remaining partygoers were all settled in a circle in the living room, eating whatever pizza was left, sipping on box wine, and playing a game of truth or dare.

“Haley, truth or dare?” Darcy challenged.

“Truth.”

“Okay…Fuck, Marry, Kill: Chris Evans, Chris Hemsworth and…..Chris Pine.”

“DAMN.” She cursed. “You can’t do that to me. Shit. Uh…Fuck Chris…Hemsworth. Marry Chris…Pine? And—”

“Don’t you do it!” You warned.

“Kill Chris Evans.”

“Noooooooooo!” You whined, taking a sip of your drink. The rest of the group laughed. “Poor Captain America.”

“Rest in pieces, Cap.” She agreed, shaking her head. “Okay…Mikey, truth or dare.”

“Dare.” Mikey answered quickly. He always picked dare, so in the fifth round of the game, it wasn’t much of a surprise.

“I dare you…to take a shot of straight lemon juice.”

“Easy peasy.” Mikey scoffed, pouring himself a shot and downing it.

You watched as his face contorted at the sour, sour taste. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at that.

“Good job, Mikey.” Donnie laughed, dipping a piece of broccoli in dip before popping it into his mouth.

“Taking it like a champ.” Leo added, nodding.

“Alright, my turn?” Mikey asked, looking around the circle for his victim, pretending he hadn’t been planning this since round one. “(Y/N). Truth or dare?”

You thought about it for a second. How easy it would be to just choose truth again, but for some reason, you were feeling a little brave, so instead, you picked, “Dare.”

“Oooooooh,” the circle said, all of them a little surprised by that choice.

“Okay. Alright.” Mikey rubbed his hands together mischievously. All according to plan. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

“OOOOOOOHHHH!” The circle all stared at you and you thought for a second, a smirk settling on your features.

“Oh that’s easy.” You got up and crossed the circle until you were standing in front of Raph. Even sitting down, he was almost your height. “Think I could get a kiss?”

Raph stared up at you, shocked, waiting for you to say Sike! HAHA! Did you actually think I thought you were hot?! Loser!

But you never did, instead looking down at him with sincerity, patience. Were you a little…nervous, even?

“Why me?” He whispered, his eyes fixed on you. There were plenty of good-looking human guys still there, and yet you were certain. Unwavering. Then, louder, he asked, his heart absolutely fighting to get out of his chest, “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” You nodded, starting to lean closer. Once you were most of the way in, you let him meet you in the middle, your soft human lips meeting his, which were, you had to admit, way softer than you thought they would be.

Raphael kissed you like you were made of glass, like if he moved too fast, you would shatter. It was his first kiss, after all, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.

When it finally ended, you walked back to your seat in the circle, your cheeks rosy, heart racing. Haley gave you a nudge and you giggled, your stomach filled with butterflies. The rest of the game went along with little fanfare, and once everyone was tired enough, the apartment cleared out even more, leaving just your roommates, Darcy’s boyfriend, and the turtles, who insisted on helping clean everything up. Well, it had been Leo’s idea, but the rest had agreed to stick around to help.

You volunteered to go out into the backyard to pick up all of the stray solo cups and White Claw cans. You hated litter. You worked out there alone for a bit. As you bent down to pick up the last can you heard the signature screech of the sliding door opening.

Raph squeezed through the narrow doorway, cursing his shell for making him so damn wide.

“Hey,” you said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Your voice was almost swallowed up by the sounds of the choir of crickets outside.

“Hey.” He closed the sliding door. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, tying off the trash bag you were using to collect garbage. “How was your first college party?”

“It was great. Really, really great.” He said, taking slow steps through the grass towards you. “Um…I…did you mean what you said? Earlier.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you…was I really…” he laughed at the absurdity of it. “You think I’m hot?”

“I do.” You nodded. “Of course I do.”

“I’m sorry if I find that a little hard to believe.” He shook his head, stopping right in front of you. When he was standing in front of you like this, he was remined of just how big he was compared to you, just how much he towered over you. Just how different you were. “I’m just used to the opposite reaction.”

“Believe it.” You reached forward and took his hand in yours, gripping one of his giant green fingers.

“I’m trying to.” He chuckled and fiddled with your little hand, nervous. “You know, uh…that was my first kiss in there. I wasn’t too awful, was I?”

“I didn’t mean to steal your first one.” You laughed softly. “Sorry. But to answer your question, I thought it was perfect.”

“That’s a relief.” He was quiet for a moment, thinking. “Uh…If it’s alright with ya…I’d like to give you my second kiss, too.”

Instead of answering, you took another step closer, looking up, up, up into his piercing green eyes. “You’re gonna have to come down here; I can’t reach.”

He laughed. “Right.” Raph craned his neck down, one of his large hands tilting your face up towards his so he could meet you in the middle for another perfect kiss.

***

“What are you doing?” Leo asked Mikey, who was peering through the blinds into the back yard of the apartment.

Mikey only grinned proudly, nodding to himself. “Works every time…”

[twowooheart]

─────────────────────

k.sw - “my heart went oops”

pairing: sunwoo x reader

genre: college au, fluff

warnings: player attitude, strong language, kissing

words: 4,800

„back to my question. where are you hiding from me?“

─────────────────────

you wouldn’t say that you were obsessed with him. it was just the inconvenience that you probably have fallen in love with him from afar, without him even knowing you.

once in a while you had a crush. they came and go, nothing too serious. but sunwoo completely messed with your heart and you can’t explain yourself why.

it all started when you leaned against the tree at your usual spot on the college grounds. it was a nice day. the wind played with the loose strings of your hair while you enjoyed the slight glimpses of sunshine that peeked through the leafs and fell on your face.

your friends and people knew not to interrupt you at this spot. if someone did, you would send them a death glare. you went to a prestigious college and as a member of your faculty and president a lot of work had to be done. this was the only time of the day where you had the chance to relax. it was a calm place where everyone knew not to talk too loud or listen to music. generally, everyone kept quiet.

after all this time of peace and harmony someone had to come to start a war. without opening your eyes you could clearly hear out one particular voice.

eric.

eric as in a loud student that often got on your nerves. you weren’t a grumpy cat or something like that. you are very liked by the students and laugh a lot. you like adventures and spending time with your friends. you also don’t mind loud or silent people.

the problem was the place. and that it was eric.

after a good ten minutes you decided to confront that chaotic group. first they didn’t even recognize someone approaching them. you positioned your hands on your hips and sent a death glare into eric‘s direction.

with a light cough finally the group and some girls that accompanied them turned to you.

eric‘s eyes widened and he was quick to get down from his sitting position on the table to salute in front of you. while the others laugh you let out a sigh.

„what could our pretty president want from me? a date?“ by now you’re confused why he would think such a thing and your confidence is slipping away at the compliment he just gave you.

get out of it. he’s a well known flirt.

„silence.“

eric pushes the boy next to him a little bit when kevin bursts out in laughter.

„w-what do you mean with that?“ the girls are giving you nasty glares by now not happy with the attention you’re getting.

„this place is reserved for silent studies and not a chat - “ you can feel your blood freeze in your body when suddenly another boy turns around that has black ruffled hair and round eyes. he’s wearing a mischievous smirk on his face and with a snicker he shushes you to be silent.

„you should be silent then.“

you’re completely astonished. just when you wanted to swoon over the boy and compliment his looks in your head he had the audacity to counter you with your own words. that boy had an attitude and he clearly enjoyed the ‚oh‘s and laughs by his friends.

you were too dumbfounded to utter another single word. usually the students respected you and it wasn’t only you who liked the peace here. you thought about the others that liked to enjoy the nature of this tiny place on the campus.

before you regained yourself the group was already back to their business. with slight embarrassment you trotted back to your spot and gathered your things to go to the library.

the next days weren’t any different. oh, but there were different girls. sitting on their laps and even flirting. the sight was so disgusting to you so there wasn’t any other option than leaving the place for good.

it wasn’t like you gave up without a fight. in your meetings you debated and brought up good arguments for setting up rules but no one seemed to listen to you or being interested in the topic. after asking other students and your friends you realized they were way too insecure to speak up to the popular students.

every time you encountered the boys they gave you funny looks and especially the boy, named sunwoo you learned, even winked at you. he was mocking you. unbeknownst to him and the others your heartbeat quickened it’s pace when he looked at you with those round dark eyes. you hated the feeling at first. but soon, what you hated even more, that you wanted to see him at campus.

was he here all the time?

he even sat in some courses with you. yet, you never managed to acknowledge his existence only until the day he made fun of you.

your slight crush kept only growing and growing until you decided to find out more about the irritating student. kim sunwoo was his full name. he was a soccer player and member of your university team. good grades and many friends. to the last part you internally cringed.

very popular with girls. typical heartthrob.

but one to never be in a relationship. he played and never stayed for too long with a girl.

great! you really fell for a playboy. worse: only by looking and speaking one time to him. you really had to get over with it as soon as possible. even if sunwoo would pay you a little bit more attention like with his other possessions it would soon fade and you would be left heartbroken.

and how to get over a crush and a boy you couldn’t have? have fun with another boy! you only had to find one...

after a few weeks went by you were on your way to the campus garden where you found your new place of peace. it was even smaller and sometimes you helped the gardener club with their duties. fortunately the smell of roses and herbs did wonders to your mind and soul. you felt refreshed and happy everytime you spend your pause in the garden on a bench or on the fresh grass.

today was also the perfect weather to spend some time in the little paradise. while you joined the queue in the cafeteria to get a little snack you jumped when someone tapped you on your shoulder from behind.

„sunwoo?“ the boy stood tall in front of you hair messed up a little bit making him looking cozy and kinda cute. his heart shaped lips formed into a dazzling smile while you probably ogled him like an owl.

„you know my name.“

„w-what? I mean, yes I do. everyone knows you, right?“ your voice was slight shaky and you just wondered what he could want from you.

„yeah, but you, you know my name!“

„yeah, well... anyways can I help you?“ your body reacted on its own again. your palms became sweaty and you couldn’t look into his eyes longer than a second before finding the ground in front of you interesting again.

„I just wondered where you have been?“

you look up at him puzzled. oh, „you probably mean why I am not lurking around in your kingdom anymore.“ a scoff leaves you and before you register that you just said that out loud a hearty laugh brings you out of your thoughts.

„I didn’t mean that!“

„oh, the way you always look at me tells me you definitely meant it!“ then he notices your disapproval for his flirty looks.

„back to my question. where are you hiding from me?“ you’re nearly ready to order and think about a good answer for that. wait, did he just say you were hiding from him?

„I am not hiding from you! I just - “ the way he emphasized the word made you fuzzy in the head. it sounded like you were his prey or some sort of that. you turn around so he faced your back again and quickly placed your order. before you can finish sunwoo suddenly chimes in and places his wish, too. leaving you dumbfounded because the next thing he fishes out his money to pay for the two of you before you’re able to do so yourself.

you roll with your eyes when he walks behind you. a small ‚thanks‘ leaves your lips and you try to get away from him as fast as possible. you couldn’t think clear when he was around. his intense gaze brought goosebumps over your skin and you knew this wasn’t a good thing.

you can’t have him. he wouldn’t want you anyways so get over it. he was probably just bored and that’s why he wanted to tease you a little bit.

before leaving the cafeteria you turn around to spot the boy but he seems to have vanished out of the scene completely. not even sitting at his usual table with the popular kids.

your lunch was deliciously devoured between some big trees in the garden. you listened to the birds cheeping soft melodies while reading some lecture. unknown to you someone has watched over you for some time now.

chuckling to himself sunwoo leans back letting out a sigh. „so that’s where you are now...“

a new week starts and while you are gathering your books in the opened corridor you can hear familiar voices nearing your spot. you’re chatting with one of your friends when the group stops in front of you and eric leans against the lockers to give you a flirty look.

„(y/n)...“ he sings your name in a cute voice while the others begin to laugh and you get yourself busy with ushering your friend away before they could annoy her, too.

immediately you spot sunwoo next to eric who sends you an interested look. back to eric you roll with your eyes.

„what do you want?“

„ah, ah! don’t give me an attitude. oh, did someone already tell you that your eyes sparkle in this light?“

„I am not asking again.“ you’re ready to leave before eric stops you by pulling you back with a strong grip on your wrist. your eyes lock on the spot he just touched you and again, you can’t see sunwoo shifting uncomfortably in his position.

„pretty please! can you show the new boy around? I swear he’s well mannered and good looking! an angel!“ ah, that’s why he’s acting like this.

„oh come on, eric. (y/n) probably has better things to do than that. for example arguing with people who enjoy life.“ you’re sending a death glare to sunwoo and your cheeks are growing hot at the laughter that erupts after that.

what an asshole...

„actually, no, I have time. where’s he?“ with that you stop the bickering and sunwoo‘s smile falls. he didn’t want you to show juyeon the university.

the new student came to the front and with a huge smile he introduced himself. what a good looking sexy god look at his arms and his lips and his eyes and his -

everyone was already gone leaving the two of you behind. juyeon fiddles with the hem of his uniform not knowing why you’re standing in front of him with an opened mouth and still, still clinging onto his hand. oh dammit quick react!

„I am (y/n)! (y/l/n) (y/n)!“ you let go of his hand and he sends you a smile that would bring girls to their knees.

„I already know.“

„oh, yes of course! I am sorry... I should show you everything!“ juyeon mutters a ‚cute‘ under his breath when your eyes indeed seem to sparkle when you start to drag him around the campus.

after five days you were sure, you really liked juyeon. you spent a lot of time together and he was so easy to be around. he was funny, teasing (in a good way), polite, intelligent and when he had the opportunity to part ways with you he didn’t. that’s because he liked you, too.

he was the perfect definition of everything that kim sunwoo wasn’t and especially to you. a friend and a possible lover.

on the other hand he wasn’t fully able to get your mind off sunwoo. that boy seemed to made himself comfortable in a deep deep part of your heart laughing evilly down there.

you want to emphasize the word evil again. after getting closer and closer with juyeon you couldn’t ignore sunwoo‘s hateful gazes anymore. didn’t he like juyeon hanging around with you? you were probably way to much a loser for them and they wanted the good looking guy between their rows.

it couldn’t be helped. one time you even tried to smile at the boy but that only resulted in him turning around to flirt with the new chick of the week. there he was at it again. pinching your heart again. it hurt much more than you wanted it to. but turning in your seat to watch juyeon eating brought happiness to you.

it was already after another few days and a date with juyeon that you two were clear about your relationship. you could never be a couple. you two found each other attractive at first but now you realized you probably just found a best friend in each other. never having one before the two of you also didn’t know how it felt to find your other half but in a platonic way.

you laughed the whole night about your attempt to kiss. there was nothing. no sparks. no everything. juyeon even apologized for not feeling anything. sometimes it turns out like this. luckily you were now inseparable leaving others confused on if you were dating or not.

juyeon literally begged you to not tell anyone and just wait what happens. that boy turned you into a mischievous kitten that agreed to his evil plan. even your friends fall for it at first. in the end some girls can read their girlfriends better than anyone else and they noticed little gestures between you and juyeon that no couple would do.

there’s still one thing you didn’t tell your bestfriend about. your safe space in the beautiful college garden. it wasn’t a problem either but this place was only for you. (and the hardworking gardener club)

something stopped you in your tracks when you were just entering the herb part. kissing sounds could be heard behind a tree. you wanted to lecture the couple who thought it would be a good time and place to fuc-

it was sunwoo.

your eyes widened and your heart sank to the bottom. your mouth still open sunwoo catches your gaze and locks eyes with you. he starts to kiss the girl‘s neck while she whimpers out his name.

you closed your mouth knowing what he was doing. he knew you would come at this hour. he knew you would find him with the girl. he wanted you to find him with... someone that wasn’t you, again.

this time one the other hand you decided to be confident. you coughed out loud gaining that girl‘s attention who let out a little shriek in the process. immediately she put some space between her and sunwoo and started to correct her uniform.

„I will report this if you’re not leaving this instant.“ this was enough to let the girl take a run leaving a pouting sunwoo behind.

you walk up to the boy and sigh out before speaking up.

„I don’t care what or with who you’re doing something, kim sunwoo. I just wonder why you have to do it here, the only place I can relax.“

sunwoo leans against the tree and sends you a bored glare. he lifts one of his eyebrows and you watch his tongue poking his cheek from the inside.

„the university garden doesn’t belong to you.“

you scoff at his words.

„I’ve never said that. I - I just thought... you and your friends already won over my favorite spot on the grounds.“

„and?“

maybe talking honest with him?

„look, I don’t want any problems with you. of course I won’t report this. I just want to have this little space for myself. could you please not come here again?“ you’re sending him a pleading look and when sunwoo starts to emerge your form with painfully slow steps you can feel your skin burning where his eyes land.

he leans down. so much that your noses are nearly touching. he’s so close you can smell his cologne and his breathing is tickling your face.

„I will come here whenever I want. I will bring here whoever I want. I will fuck here whoever I want. tell me, (y/n), aren’t you doing the same?“

you gulp. without much thought your foot collides with his shinbone. sunwoo cries out and clings to his leg sitting down in the process.

„oh god! I didn’t want to - ah, shit! here, cling onto me, I will bring you to the nurse!“ with a panicked voice you try to help sunwoo and the boy only curses out lowly while you and him slowly limp to the nurse.

„okay, sunwoo, look at me“ the boy is still in a lot of pain laying down in the hospital section bed. his eyes have not left you for once and you feel like the boy is planning on how to kill you in the most brutal way.

you’re nibbling nervously on your fingernails after the x-ray and the moment the doctor is out of sight your hands are on sunwoo‘s puffy cheeks. with a determined look you focus his face into your direction.

„you remember what I told you? I didn’t see anything! so you will say this was an accident, alright?“ his eyes darken at your words.

„why should I do that?“

„because! because I will tell them about you and the girl!“

„you kicking me is definitely worse.“ dammit, he’s right.

„o-okay! you can go to the garden whenever you want! I will not go there anymore!“

sunwoo chuckles at that. „a few minutes ago you lectured me and now you’re giving in again? but... no, that’s not helping you, too.“ out of anger you’re shaking his head by now and you don’t even realize how close you’re again.

the two of you flinch and immediately get away from each other when the doctor is coming back. „well, mr. kim. no game for you this saturday. your leg needs about a week to recover so no running and especially no sports!“ sunwoo‘s eyes open wide and after the two of you are left again you are at the verge of tears.

„oh, (y/l/n) (y/n). how do you want to make up for that?“ you’re now leaning down clinging onto him.

„sunwoo, please!“

„not only will you receive a punishment the whole university will be pissed off. I am an important player in the team.“ no, he was one of the best ones. if he couldn’t play that meant they would probably loose. your head is layed down facewards in the sheets while you rumble incoherent words. sunwoo on the other side has to hide a huge smile that’s growing on his face.

„we could say it was an accident.“ your head peeks up and you watch him with big eyes very interested in his idea.

„yes, I will do everything!“ sunwoo chuckles to himself.

„then be my slave this week.“

oh wasn’t that wonderful. sunwoo would cling onto you the whole week and by now you felt like his personal butler. of course the team lost so the students were in a bad mindset, too. after telling juyeon about the whole story the boy laughed for almost half an hour. he clearly enjoyed the view and gave you a thumbs up everytime you dragged sunwoo through the corridors or over the campus to his next lecture.

on the other hand... no one found out about what really happened. and as crazy as it sounds the boy smelled so good. you practically hugged him three hours a day. he only killed your joyful thoughts when you had to bring him a bottle of water again or only vanished out of his sight for only a minute to talk with a friend leading into him lecturing you.

you also would have found it cute to feed him but the gazes you received from the crowd in the cafeteria brought heat to your cheeks. sunwoo liked seeing you flustered and shy. he literally drank your reactions. he loved your reactions to every ridiculous thing he did or said to you.

the last day he insisted on you bringing him to the garden to have a picnic.

„I don’t feel good being here with you. the last time I got so mad I kicked you.“ he layed on the grass while you fed him with some grapes like he was a king.

„mh, I like being here with you. but, you’re probably going with lee here a lot anyways.“ you pause at his words. juyeon?

„why would I go here with juyeon?“ sunwoo‘s face turns sour.

„he’s your boyfriend after all.“ the boy locks eyes with you after you burst into laughter.

„what?“ sunwoo leans up on his elbows to get closer to you. „you’re dating him, right?“

„no? we’re friends. really good friends. but never would I date lee juyeon!“ you smile at him laughing again at the thought whereas sunwoo groans out annoyed.

„wait.. what is wrong?“ sunwoo had a weird feeling in his stomach after knowing you were still single. all this time he was so jelous and angered about the thought of you being together with someone else...

„nothing.“ sunwoo didn’t feel like it was the right time to tell you about his feelings. he messed up big. all this time of annoying you and being a dick... he liked you. he wanted to show you and fulfill your every wish before he saw you with juyeon.

it wasn’t a good move but he just turned bitter. he wanted you to recognize him. he couldn’t act different than letting out his frustration. it was just how he coped with things. but it was a mistake. with knowing he only managed to push you further away from him. you probably hated him by now. you would never like him, right?

you fulfilled your service. and you missed spending time with sunwoo. again please can there be another good looking guy entering your college? but, still you couldn’t hold yourself back to steal glances at the dark haired boy. and everytime you did sunwoo already had his eyes on you. you couldn’t read him at all. there was no bickering anymore and no winking. he just looked deep in thought.

maybe he was not interested in you anymore. in no ways. not even to annoy you. it mad you sad. and that’s how the next two weeks went by with you slowly feeling more insecure.

it was at the next month‘s game that you decided to actually join it with juyeon and some of your friends. you couldn’t believe your bestfriend that dragged you to the lowest row where sunwoo‘s friends and their chicks were also sitting.

the girl next to you was a very beautiful brunette. she cheered so loud for sunwoo and when said boy turned around to glance into her direction with a confident smile your heart sank again. you stopped counting how often that happen by now though.

with an annoyed look you watched the game. when your team goaled the brunette jumped up kicking her drink onto your lap in the process.

„shit!“ while everyone claps and howls you poke juyeon to show him your shirt.

„oh no.“

„yeah, whatever. I am going to wash this out.“ juyeon‘s eyes widen at your words that are spoken loudly over the cheering crowd.

„no! ehm, (y/n), the game is finished in a few seconds you have to wait!“ you roll your eyes at him.

„god juyeon we’ve already won.“ he tries to hold onto your arm but you’re quick to leave the field and vanish into the building where your locker is located to change into another clothing. it takes you a lot of time but you smile when you receive a text of juyeon to come back to the field because they’re waiting for you there.

it was already dark and you wanted to change at home to get ready for the after party tonight in one of the huge mansions of the fraternity. when you emerge the field everything was already dark and you could only see a silhouette standing in the middle of the field.

„juyeon?“ you look around to see if there’s another person but knowing he would never ditch you in the dark you take confident strides to the person.

„juyeon, you know it’s really creepy after the horror movie we watched yesterday - “

suddenly the light is turned on and you shield your eyes with your hands before the person turns around and gets down on one knee in front of you.

„s-sunwoo?“ you can’t breath. your heart hammers against your chest and you have to cover your shaking lips with your hands to prevent him from seeing your shocked state.

„I actually planned this to turn out different... you know the whole crowd was supposed to be watching.“

„watching w-what?“

he looks to the ground and then into your eyes again. a smile adorns his face and he coughs out to clear his voice.

„(y/l/n) (y/n), I want to tell you that, that... I like you.“ you nearly collapse at his words. was this a dream? was he joking around?

„you’re joking.“

he shakes his head. „I am not. I wanted to do this here on the field so when you’re giving me a corb the whole university would see.“

„that is... sunwoo that doesn’t make any sense?“

„it does. it is my apology to you. for being mean and teasing you endlessly. for taking away your favorite spots. I know you love them so much. I did what I did because of my jelousy. and for being a coward for not telling you about my feelings.“

you think for a few seconds trying to register if this was really happening. your head turns and in the far you can see all your and sunwoo‘s friends. with an unsure gaze your eyes land on juyeon. after the boy‘s stoic expression he sends you an honest smile. and a thumbs up.

you let out a shaky breath and turn to the boy in front of you again.

„this is really... surprising.“

sunwoo sighs taking your hand into his. „it is. so please tell me you’re not feeling the same and I can begin sulking.“

„sunwoo. it doesn’t make any sense because“ you push him up by his hand and look into his dark orbs.

„it’s doesn’t make any sense because I like you, too.“ a sheepish smile escapes the boy.

„ahhh, I wished you would say that.“ you raise one of your eyebrows.

„of course. you’re still a tease. you know, you could just ask me for a date and - “

„do you want to be my girlfriend? I don’t only want a date. I want you.“ you bite your bottom lip at his words. you nod and send him a beautiful smile.

„woah. (y/n), eric‘s right in the end.“

your face turns stoic.

„about what?“ sunwoo smiles at you and circles your waist with his arms. his hand glides up to pushes some strands of your hair out of your face.

„your eyes are sparkling. not only that, you’re really shining. you always have.“ your eyes water at his words because would’ve never imagine the kim sunwoo using them with you.

in the far you can hear shouts of ‚kiss‘ and the loudest are from eric and juyeon. you quickly look to the ground but sunwoo‘s quicker to pull your chin up with his index.

he places the softest kiss on your trembling lips and it is the first time you can fully enjoy the butterflies in your stomach.

why did the two of you needed so much time?

[outofsstyles]

KILLER QUEEN (80s!AU)

 A/N: Heyaa!! So here’s what happens when I watch Sing Street right after reading some of Olivia’s boyfriend!Harry prompts :) Also a huge thank you to Soph @canyon-moan​ for betaing this for me!! A gentle reminder that I was not, in fact, alive in the 80s so please take it easy in that aspect lol. If you like it *please reblog*, it helps a lot, also I’d love to hear your feedback!!!!

Word count: 25.3k (I have no self control!! Someone stop me!!)

Pairing: Musician!Harry + Bassist!Reader

Prompts: making it official + enemies but secretly lovers

Warnings: Our typical mentions of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll (and a lot of denim!)

Concept: You and Harry are in rival bands and you shouldn’t really get along but you can’t help it.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that, from the moment you agreed to be part of the band, your agenda would become more frantic. That’s all you read on magazines or see on the television on those late nights MTV programs that love to talk about that rockstar life. The shows and the sleepless nights. The drugs and the sex between stages. It’s always what comes to the minds of anyone that thinks about following the music path.

Of course, you’re far from being The Bangles or Duran Duran, but even when it comes to playing for uninterested drunks on small crummy bars, you still found yourself barely able to catch a breather from it. 

And it also doesn’t help that on top of it all, you also try your best to balancing your studies as you go into your third year of uni. So, between being tucked behind your bass during rehearsals and going around begging for stuck up pub owners to give a spot, you still have to find time for the busy class schedule that also blends with your tutoring job on the side. Sometimes it feels like juggling those two contrasting lives is too much, and when you walk home each day too exhausted to even function, you ponder if you should just drop one of them.

You still manage to fall into a rather chaotic routine of dragging through weekdays to fall into reckless weekends. It’s not easy, but you make it work.

Today, however, seemed to be an odd one. From the moment you woke up with the sound of birds chirping and the faint conversation of your neighbors outside your window, you felt a sense of relaxation that has become a rarity to you. It’s a welcoming change from your usual rowdy roommates bantering at each other or the loud music blasting through the walls that serve as your alarm on regular days. The silence that engrosses your normally-chaotic home is calming as much as it is strange. 

The whole day went by in a lulling and lazy pace, and between your several attempts of keeping yourself occupied (that being going on a walk to the library or going through your mom’s old recipe book) you actually catch yourself realizing the quietness can be louder than your roommates.

It’s a weird concept to you. Missing them when you spend so much time together in the band, but you still can’t help it. So you just blast the radio and let Rio fill in the empty walls as you wait for one of them to come home.

By the time the night falls, wind thumping on the closed windows as the first thin drops of rain start to hit the glass, Lena is back from her shift with a low huff and a roll of her eyes, mumbling how she’s never covering weekend shifts ever again -- which you both know is not true, but neither mention it. And that’s how you find yourself at the end of your unruffled day, tucked at the end of your couch under a cozy blanket. Listening to one of MTV’s nightly programs - that Lena watches almost religiously after a day of work - as background noise. You focus on the open book settled on top of your lap, enjoying her company quietly as you flip through the pages.

It could be the perfect ending for a perfectly relaxing day, the sound of the rain almost lulling you to sleep as the words in front of you begin to shuffle, finding it harder to concentrate with your mind drifting off.

But before you can let your eyes fall close and your head snuggle back into the cushions, you’re startled awake by the burst of your front door opening. The sudden noise makes you and Lena jump, a yelp leaving your lips as you look back to the source of your fright. 

You barely have any time to feel panicked or even wrap your head around the possibilities of what could have caused the outburst as Abbey barges into the room.  She all but jumps on each step, stumbling a bit as she makes her way around the couch to stand tall in front of you. Her red hair is full and damp, droplets of water running down her body, causing her clothes to stick to her skin.

“I got us a gig!” Her breath is short as if she just ran a long way.

“Christ, Abbey, don’t do that!” You relax back into the couch once you realize there’s no real threat invading your home, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She scoffs, “Did you listen to a word I just said?” You notice her eyes are blown out, “I got us a gig, as in a </i> real gig.”

“A real gig?” Lena inquires, standing up to walk towards the front door that was left agape, closing it with a thump.

Abbey’s grin grows, her words come out slow but clear. “Next Saturday in the Blue Bird.”

“That’s in a week.” You state.

Her shoulders drop, “Yeah, and?”

“Blue Bird?” Lena comes in the room again, stopping by the head of the couch and crossing her arms under her chest. “How did you even get that I thought the only band that played there was--”

“You’re right Lena, was as in not anymore because we are playing there, and there’s more.” She interrupts, her voice raising an octave. “The owner, Ronnie, said if we’re good enough he can arrange for us to play every other weekend.”

“You’re insane.” You shake your head slightly. “That’s like a place where people actually go for the music, what makes you think we can pull that off?”

Abbey points a finger at you, “You’re being a pessimist, and that’s not appreciated in here.” She waves her hands around, trying to assert her point. “We can and we will pull that off and take over the permanent spot on the weekends.”

“Is that what this is about?” Lena smirks, eyebrows raising at her friend. “It’s been a hot minute since you raged about that Harry boy.”

 “It’s not just about him, Adeline.” She barks, “It’s about us! We need to find our confidence again.”

 “Again?” You speak out, making her snap her eyes back at you.

“Yes, again.” She says, “We’re doing this and it’s gonna be wicked.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement as you exchange a knowing look with Lena.

In all fairness, the prospect of playing a gig at an actual music house is as exciting as it is scary. It’s not like you think you’re not able to pull it off, but the simple thought of having people actually paying attention to your presence on stage is enough to make you want to hide under your covers and never come out. But seeing Abbey so pumped about it, there’s no way in a million years you’d ever say no.

She was the one that wanted to start a band, after all. Before she dropped out, in what seems like ages ago, she was your roommate that would drag you around every time she had those spontaneous ideas, that is going out for pancakes at three in the morning, go on weekend trips to concerts two cities away, or, well, start a band herself.  

In the beginning, it was just the three of you, Abbey as the lead, you on the bass, and a girl you met on one of the said weekend trips, who had introduced herself as Lena, on the guitar. And not even a month later, you were all living together in a tiny house near the main street. 

At first, the biggest issue, to your surprises, was that you couldn’t find a drummer if your lives depended on it. Even after putting out posters around campus, you only got two calls from men whose only interest was the “all-girls band” part of it. Things got better when you met Jaz, a smiley girl from your Phonetics class. She wasn’t a drummer, but her boyfriend was, they both played for their High School band (which is how they met, a proper movie-worthy story if they’d ask you). And just like that, you got yourselves a drummer and a keyboardist.

For the next few months that followed you played on dirty bars and house parties, getting paid with tipsy pats on your backs, or, if you were lucky, maybe a pack of cheap drinks for you all to share. It’s the frustrating part of trying to get into the music path, you found, most serious places were not interested on a band with hardly any live experience and no original songs whatsoever. So you just had to take whatever opportunity came your way. Once, you even played on the birthday party of Lena’s manager’s daughter, which was probably the most disastrous experience of them all, considering a crowd of eight-year-olds and their posh moms weren’t exactly fond of listening to loud covers of Blondie. You got to play three full songs before one of them asked you to leave. 

The first time you actually got money was when Abbey dragged you and Lena to play on the sidewalk of the National Park, where people would come and go with their busy lives and full wallets. That was the best one, you easily got three hundred within a few hours of your open cases, which was split between the three of you at the end of the day.

Afterward, you wanted to play on the streets again, but Abbey wished more than just being a street performer, she yearned for the glow of the spotlights and a place on the stage. And it’s not like you lot didn’t think of it as well, how it would be like to have an actual gig. So, you just went back to the old routine of jumping from bar to bar.  Playing for people that couldn't care less about your presence on the small stage, focusing only on their cheap beers and drunk conversations. 

For a while it seemed like that was all there was to it, the music scene getting more congested by the minute, you thought there was no way you’d ever make it out there. There were moments you even thought about giving it up, if you were honest, setting your mind into getting your English degree that at least has the guarantee of a stable paycheck by the end of it. But as Abbey always says, there’s nothing you can’t do with a twist of your hair and a bat of your lashes. And somehow, she managed to be true to her word, presenting an opportunity to actually start taking this seriously.

And it would be a lie to say there isn’t an excitement growing at the pit of your stomach the more you think about it.

                                ❁         ❁        ❁ 

You’ve heard about the Blue Bird before.

Of course you have, it’s near to impossible not to. Being in a small town, predominantly surrounded by uni students, and that being the only music pub in the area, you’ve heard about it quite often. 

It’s become quite the hot spot for people interested in listening to good music while getting lost in the bottom of their beer glasses. With the only other competitor being a good forty-minute drive away, people go in crowds on the weekends as a getaway from their textbooks. You’re not sure why you’ve never been in it, though, only going as far as walking past it on your nightly walks during the week, listening to the faint sound of whatever band’s playing at the time. 

But if there’s one thing that’s always brought up when the subject is the Blue Bird is CHASM, more specifically Harry Styles. They have the permanent spot on the weekends and have become one of the main reason people - women, mainly - come in lots to have a spot inside the packed space. 

As much as his name comes up in a dreamy sigh and followed by a string of giggles when you hear it being mentioned by a classmate or overhear it somewhere in public, inside of your bubble he’s pretty much only mentioned in annoyed huffs or with a roll of eyes. If you’re honest, you know close to nothing about him, wouldn’t even be able to point him out on the street if you ever happen to cross paths. But you do know that Abbey is not fond of him in the slightest, so for that, you try to keep your distance from anything that has to do with Harry Styles.

You’re not sure how this hatred of her came to be and to be honest, you’ve never really been bothered enough to ask. Abbey doesn’t like a lot of people, her first impression of them it’s what she keeps in her heart with zero to no chance of changing it, so you just assume this Harry guy might’ve not given her a good one. It’s never really been something you really dwelled on, the circumstances in your life allowing you to ignore his existence unless he’s being spoken of. But it feels like a whole nother story now that you’ve essentially stolen his golden spot on the saturday night. 

The moment you walk into The Blue Bird is when you start to come to the realization that this is really happening. Not even a full step in, your eyes already dart to the big stage standing tall across from the entrance door, bigger than any other one you’ve ever been in -- being used to small platforms that barely have enough space to fit a drumset. it’s hard not to let your lips part in awe at the size of it all, the outside is rather modest compared to it, the only really striking detail being the LED sign with the name of the pub. There’s a large bar standing in the middle of the place, serving almost as a divisor of the two areas of the pub. The first area is the one you walk into as you first enter the place, with tables surrounding the space -- that now have their chairs propped on top of them, and you reckon this is where people sit around as they wait for the musical act of afterward when they can barely keep themselves up on their feet. The second area, however, it’s just empty of any barrier, except from the stools lined in front of the bar, meant mainly for people to crowd in front of the stage.

The walls are what catches your attention, though. The one where the front door stands is covered with magazines and newspaper cutouts of celebrities, scandalous headlines written in big bold letters, and random articles about their personal lives. On top of this big collage, there are band posters, you assume the ones that played in here, most of them stuck once to the wall, except for one that you can see multiple different colored papers with the same name written on it. 

You stop in front of one of them, one that’s just below your eyesight but catches your attention with the big blood-red letters that read CHASM on top of it, with a smaller font on the side saying  “live every weekend of ‘87” right below it. What you focus on, however, are the five faces staring back at you, their serious expressions looking almost haunting with the black and white filter. But it’s the one in the middle that your eyes immediately dart to. Unlike his bandmates, his lips are frozen with a slight smirk, small enough that wandering eyes could easily miss it, but still prominent enough that you can make out the shadow of a dimple on his cheek. His hair is settled in a wild nest, but not in a sloppy way, you decide, they’re a rockstar kind of messy. He’s handsome, there’s no doubt in that, just by looking at the small print of his face you can understand what the fuss is about, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. But it doesn’t keep your mind from wondering the color of his eyes and what it would be like to see them up close, as you look back at the taunting grin you think what could be the tone of his lips or--

“Lost something in there?” Lena’s voice makes you jump, turning swiftly to find her grinning at you. “You should come and start getting everything ready before Abbey finds you admiring our arch-nemesis.”

Your eyes widen, coughing in surprise as you try to regain composure after being caught. “I-- I wasn’t--”

She chuckles, turning to roam back to the stage before you can finish, throwing you one last look over her shoulder. “Sure thing, buttercup.”

You spare one last look to the poster before following her lead to the other side of the room where the rest of your friends are setting up the instruments on top of the stage. Once you locate your case tucked in the far left corner you quickly open it, finding your soft pink tinted bass resting inside of it. The Sesame Street sparkling stickers stuck to it glimmer from this angle (you got them in a favor bag from when you played at the birthday party), thanks to one of the spotlights shining directly at them. You pick the instrument up, adjusting the strap over your shoulder and giving the chords a few experimental strokes before looking up at the empty place.

There’s no denial of the anticipation that takes over every part of your body at the sight of the pub from the stage. A perfect mixture of excitement and anxiousness that lights up as you imagine how it will be like to see it filled up. It makes you gnawn at you bottom lip, jumping a bit on you feet as you move to connect your bass to the amplifier.

For a while, you just finish setting up the stage, tuning in the instruments, the sounds echoing on the empty space in a bit of a disarray, as you get used to the feeling of using proper sound equipment. You had the chance to meet the owner, Ronnie, for a brief minute as he strolled around the stage, observing you all before mumbling something about paying anything you broke and announcing he’d be in his office until opening hours. It wasn’t the warmest greeting you’ll admit, but you don’t really care, enjoying the opportunity nevertheless. 

Abbey arrives just a few minutes before the rehearsal is set to start, contemplating the view of everyone getting into a more of a harmonic arrangement before disappearing backstage for a moment without saying much of a word. When she comes back, she props herself in front of a big curved mirror cutting through one of the walls.

“Do you think you can do my makeup today, babe?” She calls back at you, gazing from over her shoulder with a slight pout on her ips.

“Sure.” You fiddle with the guitar pick between your fingers. “Do you want that rainbow look from last time?”

“Maybe something with less color this time.” She focuses back on her reflection, sighing loudly as fingers run through her locks. “I’m thinking of dying my hair black,” she tilts her head as if she’s envisioning her words. “I don’t know, just to try out something new.”

“That won’t make you look more like Joan Jett, you know.” A voice echoes in the empty space, bringing your attention to the entrance of the place.

And there he stands. The figure you had been staring at not long before, on the same poster stuck right behind where he is leaning, arms crossed and a smug look on his face. 

Harry stands there as if he just walked right out of the big screen, is the kind of beautiful you don’t see quite often outside a magazine cover. Not that it’s something that surprises you, considering you could tell from even a poorly printed image on a poster that the sharp curve of his jaw and the cut of his cheekbones could call anyone’s attention from afar. Even with what you find to be a rather plain outfit for someone like him, a simple white turtleneck tucked in his lightwash jeans, matched with a denim jacket, he still manages to stand out somehow. It’s almost compelling, really. And you can’t help but follow him with your eyes as he pushes himself off the wall, making his way towards the bar with an attitude as if he owns the place.

Abbey scoffs from her spot, arms crossing under her chest. “Unlike you, I don’t have to try to be someone else to get attention, Styles.”

He rests an elbow on top of the counter, chuckling as he points a finger at your friend. “You’re getting better at this, I’m proud.”

“What the fuck are you even doing here?” She barks, keeping a stern look pointed at him.

“Wanted to check out who stole our Saturday night spot, princess.” He spits back at her, words dancing around the room in a teasing manner. “When Ronnie said it was a bunch of newbies had to see it with my own eyes.” Unlike her, he doesn’t seem bitter at the situation in hand, but somewhat amused at the heated girl scoffing at him. From the distance you stand, you can’t make out details, but it’s still enough to notice the grin imprinted on his face, dimples marking his cheeks as he clenches his jaw, eyes wandering around the stage as he leans back fully to rest both elbows on top of the stool. “Plus, I get free booze before the House opens.”

As the words leave his lips his eyes meet yours, and you quickly realize you must’ve been staring for quite a while. You see the smirk growing on his face before you quickly look back at the forgotten bass in your hands. There’s a warmth creeping from your neck to the tip of your ears from getting caught all but gawking at him. You move your hands to the cords, beginning to tune the instrument as an attempt to cover-up. But when you take a peek at him you still find his eyes watching you, only enhancing the blush that’s now undoubtedly taking over your cheeks.

“You lot are way more organized than I expected.” He speaks up again, motioning towards Ross sitting by the side of the stage near the drumset.  “Got a roadie and everything.”

“Piss off!” Ross snarls back at him.

Harry just smiles. “Just taking a piss, mate.”

“I better not see you going around trying to get to one of my girls, Styles.” Abbey calls back from her shoulder as she jumps onto the stage, turning to face him. “Or you’re a dead man.”

“What’s that they can’t speak for themselves?” He arches his brows at her. “Where’s all that sexual freedom you love to brag about?”

“You’d love to use that as an excuse, wouldn’t you?” She toys with the mic stand. “You stay away from them.”

There’s no more banter once you begin the rehearsal. Harry grabbing a glass of a drink you can’t quite make out from the distance and moves to a spot tucked by the back of the place. Curiously, you catch yourself glimpsing in his direction every so often, but you can barely make out his silhouette due to the stage lights limiting your vision. At one point, when it dims down, you can see him scrunching over the table, focusing on a small journal sitting on top of it -- you find it odd his choice of place to do so, but don’t duel on it too much.

What keeps crawling back into your mind is Abbey’s words to Harry earlier, telling him to not try his way with any of you. She was talking about you. That much was clear, considering there’s not any other choice for him, with Jaz being very much compromised and Lena having no interest in engaging with men in any way. That leaves you as the only option that he could possibly pursue. It makes you think why she’d even consider that a possibility in the first place, but you push it to the back of your mind, concentrating on you bass lines until it’s around the opening hour and you’re getting ready backstage.

None of you are used to the concept of having a dressing room, so as undusted as it seems from a first glance, it still only helps to enhance the reality that hits you of this whole experience. The far voices from people starting to fill in the bar outside making your nerves become near overwhelming as you try to apply some eyeshadow with shaky hands. 

When you’re all ready to go, just about half an hour away from walking onstage, you try to dull your anxiety with a cup handed to you by Lena of something you’re not quite sure what it is but it tastes like oranges and tequila. You settle on a spot on the certainly old red couch prompted against the wall. Avoiding a big rip cutting through the middle of it, foam poking out of the hole, you try not to think of what could’ve caused it -- or all the other stains adorning it. 

There’s people coming and going around the space, the door not staying close for longer than a minute. Faster than you can process it, the room is suddenly crammed with people, none of which you recognize yet they greet you as if you’d been friends your whole life. Their loud voices mesh together, making it harder to even hear your own voice if you were to speak out loud. A strong scent of incense takes over the room, so intense you can feel the beginning of a headache. There are people stumbling on their feet trying to get to the stool across from you, where you catch a glimpse of a man with a messy mohawk snorting something out of a dirty bill. 

Two strangers found their sits next to you at some point - not paying the same attention you had to the rip scarring through the cushions. Both get lost in their conversation, the man’s fluffed curls poking your face occasionally when he gets too excited with the hand gestures. You catch a word or two when they try to include you in it, you offer a simple nod, not bothering to try and understand their muddled words.

It all starts to feel a bit overwhelming, the amount of strangers surrounding you along with the nervous feeling that’s already taking over your stomach -- the drink not being of any help at all. You look around trying to find a familiar face, but you can barely spot the green ends of Lena’s hair through the crowd. Gazing down at your wrist clock, you figure there’s enough time for you to find a emptier spot so you can calm yourself down.

“I think I’m gonna get some air.” You say to no one in particular, seeing the man’s head nodding from your peripheral vision as you maneuver your way between leather-clad bodies towards the door.

You’re met with a just as packed hallway. Searching for a more vacant space, you spot a sign indicating an exit door that had been pointed at you earlier as the back alleyway. Without a second thought, you make your way around the crowded space. The nest of feet makes you trip slightly, making you crash against a girl standing next to the door. You mutter a quick apology, but you’re only met with a pitched giggle in response.

Once you reach the door you all but jolt your way out of the building. The brisk night air hitting your face, bringing a sense of relief near to instantly. You close your eyes at the feeling, breathing in as the breeze dances around your face and messes with your air.

“Well, if it’s not one of Abigail’s bunnies.” A voice cuts through the air, breaking you from your moment of relief. Your eyes flutter open, meeting Harry’s irises watching you. He’s leaning back on the wall across from you, foot prompt up and jacket thrown over his shoulders. His fingers fiddle with a closed package of cigarettes, dimples shadowing on his face in amusement.

You blink at him, taking a second to process his words. “I’m not a bunny, whatever that means.”

His lips twitch up. “I’m sure you’re not, darling.”

You observe as he thumbs the package in hand open, quickly grabbing a cigarette and resting it between his lips. “Need a light for that?”

His brows shoot up. “Didn’t take you for a smoker, angel.”

“I’m not, my friends are.” You reach for the back pocket of your jeans, pulling out a tiny pink lighter and throwing it towards him.

He catches it, holding it up between his index and middle finger. “You carry that around for your friends?” He keeps his eyes trained on you as he raises the lighter, flicking it so it paints the end of the cigarette a fiery orange. You can’t help but notice the chipped black nail polish adorning his nails, a couple of rings hugging his fingers, only adding to his rockstar persona. His cheeks hollow around it, taking a slow drag exhaling smooth puffs of smoke out of his puckered lips. He points the end of the cigarette towards you. “That’s a good girl.”

You feel your breath hitch on your throat, looking down as you feel for the second time in the day a heat taking over your cheeks. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the alleyway, your gaze waves around checking a few other lone smokers not too far from you. When you peek at him again, he’s still watching you with the same smug look he had when he first walked in. From this distance you can get a better look at his face, with it’s full colors, and you make a point to figure the forest green of his eyes flickering under the dim light. 

You clear your throat, trying to fill in the silence that’s taken over the space. Keeping your eyes still trained on a random spot where the alley meets the street, you speak up,  “So, how did get a gig here?”

“Trying to get to know me now, love?” There’s a smug tone to his voice, and it makes you shoot your eyes at him.

You shake your head, scoffing softly. “Was trying to be nice, forget it.”

He lets the air fall quiet for a beat, the corner of his lips tugging up as he takes another drag of the cigarette. “My uncle owns the place.”

“Ronnie is your uncle?” You crease your eyebrows.

“Yup.” He props his foot down from the wall, kicking a small rock on the floor. “He’s a right prick, but he can be nice if you get on his soft spot.” He shrugs, eyes meeting yours. “What ‘bout you, bunny?”

 “What about me?”

“How did you get in the spotlight?”

You breathe out a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not in the spotlight,” 

“You’re stepping on that stage in a few minutes, love, that’s hardly true.”

You chew on your lip, locking your eyes on your feet as you sway back and forth gently. “But I’m, like, on the invisible side of the stage.”

“Invisible side?” 

You shrug, trying to appear unflappable. “Yeah, well, no one ever notices the bassist.”

“I do.” He says without skipping a beat, and when you search for his eyes they’re aloof as if the words just left his lips without a single implication behind them. You wonder if there is one. Or maybe you’re just reading too much into it. Nonetheless, it doesn’t stop a flock of butterflies to sweep on your stomach as he shoots you a warm smile. He motions to the door behind you with his head, “Better get going, darling, if someone spots us talking they might think we’re friends.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Did you see how crazy they went when we did Call Me?” Abbey leans over the table, not paying any mind to the way it starts to tilt towards her side. You and Jaz quickly balance the weight, straightening surface before the filled cups can start sliding down and causing a mess. You give her a scolding look for not being careful, but she doesn’t even look at you, only picking a fry from the pile in the middle and dipping inside her vanilla milkshake, sitting back and elbowing Lena next to her playfully. “And to think you said it’s not a gig song.”

“I didn’t say that.” Lena shakes the cup in her hand, circling the straw as to mix the melting ice cream inside, completely unfazed by her friend’s tease. “Just said we should do something new if people wanted old songs they would tune on that good times radio station, or whatever it’s called.”

“People like listening to classics!” Abbey protests, raising her voice bit, she’s either forgotten she’s in public or is just simply too stoned to care. Either way, you try to shush her, muffling a giggle with the back of your hand as you see a group two tables down looking back at her. She only huffs, leaning back down on her seat, “What do you suggest we play, then? Duran Duran?”

“I like Duran Duran.” You pester, trying to repress a smile as she shoots you a pointed look.

“I actually think Duran Duran is a great idea.” Lena backs you up, the same taunting smile reflecting on her face as she says it looking at you. 

“You two are completely insane if you think I’m singing new wave, might as well start to fill in for a new vocalist.” She shoves her hand full of fries, dropping to her side of the table with a shrug.

“Jaz you think that girl from your choir is available? The blonde one?” Lena bites into her straw, barely containing her laugh as Abbey narrows her eyes at her.

You watch in amusement from across the table, the contrast between Lena and Abbey looking comical as they continue to banter at each other. In one side there’s Lena who’s leaning back on the wall next to her, her neon pink jumpsuit standing out from anyone else in your group, hair hardly styled, being more of a nest in her head, the sides shaved and the back falling on her shoulders in a mullet. On the other side, Abbey’s swallowed in black, the only color being the red of her hair, that’s pushed up in a high side ponytail.

It was her idea to come to the diner after the gig, declining every offer of an after party (which is new for her) and insisting you had to have this moment to decompress together as a band. What you didn’t take account of, is that a diner on a Saturday night isn’t exactly a deserted place. So after spending an hour sitting on the parking lot, waiting for a table, you finally got yourselves a booth tucked by the back. And now as the place gets clearer and quieter by the minute, after getting your round of burgers, you share a big pile of fries, not ready to leave and sleep on this experience just yet.

“You know who also seem to enjoy the show? That Harry dude.” The mention of his name calls your attention to Lena. “Caught him in the corner a couple times watching us.”

You take a sip of his drink, trying to mask any expression that exposes the fact that you’d noticed too, maybe more than just a couple times.

To your relief, everyone focuses on Abbey as she lets out an annoyed huff. “Why’d you bring him up of all people.” She picks up her nearly empty cup a bit too harshly, her voice rising again. “He called me a Joan Jett wannabe! Fucking prick.”

 “You do dress like her,” Lena raises her brows in defiance.

“It’s called an inspiration, Adeline, doesn’t mean I’m trying to be her.” She barks at her friend. “Doesn’t give that knobhead the right to be a dick about it.”

“Why don’t you like him?” The question slips out of your lips before you can stop it, and you regret it as soon as all eyes on the table set on you, Abbey’s face creasing in an incredulous look as if the answer was obvious.

 “Are you serious? Did you hear how he spoke to us?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, looking down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your shorts. “Just seemed like he was trying to get a rise out of you.”

“He’s got a stick up his ass, babe. A full narcissist, it’s ridiculous.” She shakes her head, scrunching her nose in aversion. “He’s also a complete womanizer, it’s disgusting if you ask me.”

“I guess,” You gaze up at her.”

“Babe, he’s a charmer, I’ve seen it before, he knows how to sweet talk someone.” She explains in a sigh. “They’re all like that.”

“They?”

“Men in bands.” She picks up another fry, poking it on her forehead as she makes her point. “Have their heads bigger than the whole stage, think they can do just about anything.”

“Suppose that’s true,” You agree, not wanting to get further in this discussion.

She smiles, biting a piece of the fry before pointing it at you. “It is, which is why we are smart girls and don’t fuck with them.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

You’re aware that going for a walk by yourself at night is not a very secure choice. 

Even living in what you feel like could be the most monotone town in the area (where the biggest report on the local news was when two boys got stuck on a tree thanks to a dare with their friends). But it still doesn’t stop you from being careful, only going around the busier streets, watching the movement of people - mostly students - chatting the night away on the filled pub table, enjoying the short break between studies before going back at it once the weekend’s over. 

You stroll around with not much of a purpose, really, only needing a bit of time to yourself every so often when you feel the turmoil in your home becomes to much (on those weekends when both your roommates decide to stay home). So you just go on your usual path, breathing in the night air and enjoying some alone time.

The ending of your course is marked by none other than the Blue Bird, standing in a corner of the main street.

 A small group of people is gathered in front of it, smoking their cigarettes. You stare at them for a minute as you get closer to the led lights indicating the entrance of the pub, the girls with their bright-colored outfits, hair styled and puffed up as they laugh along to whatever one of the boys has said. One of them has a leather jacket thrown over her shoulder that almost swallows her figure, and you can only assume that it belongs to the man talking to her, leaning back on a payphone, the quiff in his hair so high it makes him look like a knock-off John Travolta. The thought makes you breathe out a laugh to yourself.

Once you reach the entrance you look at it mindlessly, not being able to see much from outside except the string curtain hanged on top of the open door. You turn on your heels, ready to start making your way back, but as you pay attention to the muffled sounds coming from inside the pub you stop on your tracks. A familiar tune catching your attention, making you turn in the direction of the entry. Somebody to Love. 

It peaks your curiosity. If you’re honest, you feel like covering a Queen song is probably one of the most bound for disaster decisions someone can make. But as you feel yourself approaching the entrance, the voice of whoever’s singing it all but lures you inside. It’s not the same as the original, of course, but the lower tone to it fits it just as beautifully and once you fully walk in you can almost feel your heart skip a beat to find Harry standing on stage. His eyes closed in concentration. 

It’s saturday. His saturday night. You forgot about that.

You don’t dare to try to mend amongst the crowd of people packed in front of the stage, making your way to the bar. You thankfully find an empty stool without much of a fight, allowing you a perfect vision of the stage.

Harry is playing the guitar, his voice blending perfectly with the vocals of the girls in the background, eyes closed as he feels every lyric coming out of his throat. His stage look is much different than the one he wore back when you first saw him, it’s something you reckon not many people could rock out as good as he does. A mismatched suit, light green blazer with a pink blouse underneath, along with bright blue trousers -- it’s as if he picked one piece from different colored suits (which you assume he probably did). The locks of his hair are no longer running wild on his head, instead, it’s gelled back, a single rebel strand falling charmingly against his forehead. You wonder if it’s on purpose.

It’s quite a sight to see him like this, you’re not gonna lie. All suited up with no tie, the blouse only partially buttoned so you notice a tease of some tattoos on his chest. You’d noticed his good looks before, it’s impossible not to, but there’s something about the stage glow that makes it impossible to look away from him. It’s mesmerizing.

To your surprise, the rest of his set mainly consists of originals, and unlike you’d expect for any amateur band that dares to sweep away from covers, he manages to hold the crowd’s attention as if he’s singing any other hit song you hear on the radio. Even not knowing the lyrics, people cheer along to the songs, moving to the beat as best as they can in the crowded space. And that’s a direct result of the charisma he holds while standing on stage.

It’s entrancing, really, how he holds himself as if he was born to be doing this. And you think maybe he was. 

There’s a mischievous glow to him, when he rocks out to his own songs, grinding slightly against the mic stand. A gesture that makes you flustered even from your seat a couple of meters away. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him even if you tried. And you’re sure as hell not trying.

At one point you feel a poke in your arm, turning around to be met with the barman who recognizes you from the week prior. He greets you with a shout over the noise, offering you a drink on his account. Your first instinct is to refuse, considering you weren’t even supposed to stay for long, but after a bit of insisting on his part you accept with a shy smile.

By the time he’s ending the last song, you’re at the edge of your seat, catching yourself wishing you could see more of him. The lights in the audience turn on as he wraps up the set, and just before he bows down with the rest of his band his eyes wander in your direction. It’s so quickly that you think you could’ve just imagined it, considering his eyes don’t meet yours again, only rushing his way backstage.

You blink at the empty spot where he once stood for a moment, almost feeling frozen in place as you try to take in what happened. Turning on your stool to face the bar, you gaze down at your forgotten drink. You hold it to your lips, deciding to finish it so you can ease your way out before anyone else spots you. Your attempt is frustrated, however, when you hear a voice coming from behind you.

“Reckon Abbey Road would throw a fit if she knew you’re wandering around watching my concert.” You turn to face Harry, finding him looking down at you, signature smirk making his dimples poke onto his cheeks. His hands are hidden inside the pockets of his dress pants and he’s taken off his blazer, causing the pink of his blouse to stand out even more.

You chew the inside of your lip. “I can make my own decisions, you know.”

“That’s good to hear, bunny.” His smile grows, hand leaving the pocket to motion at the empty spot next to you. “Mind if I sit here?”

“Be my guest.”

He sits on the empty stool, turning to the bartender that’s handing a drink to a man standing behind you. “Can you give the lady another one of what she was drinking? On my tab.”

“Oh you don’t have to, I was about to--” You begin, but the man behind the counter doesn’t care to listen, only picking up your empty glass and moving away to fill it up. “leave.”

“Already?” Harry arches his eyebrows, resting his arm on top of the counter and leaning towards you. His voice comes out a bit softer, dropping the playful tone, “let me buy you a drink, angel.”

You ignore the way the hairs on your neck rise at the petname. “You really don’t have to--”

“I want to.”

“Okay.” You breathe out, not being able to hold back your smile once his own grows on his face.

As if on cue, the bartender comes back with two glasses, setting them in front of the two of you. You don’t fail to note the fact that he gives Harry his drink without being asked to.

He picks up his glass, holding it up, to which you do the same, clinking your glasses slightly before taking a sip.  “So, what brings you here tonight? Measuring the competition?”

 “I was just walking around, heard a lousy cover of Somebody To Love, and decided to come in.”

He throws his head back a bit in laughter, nose scrunching adorably. You have to look away as to not find yourself staring. “A Queen fan, then?”

 “You could say so.”

“A pretty girl with a good taste in music, gonna steal m’heart if you keep going, bunny.” And just like that, it’s like he takes all the words out of your mind. You only let out a small chuckle, taking a sip of your drink as you look away to cove the blush that paints your cheeks. His eyes are still trained on you, though. “Was it any good?”

“Huh?” You blink back at him.

“The cover.” He grins. “Or was it really that lousy?”

“Oh, it was amazing.” You say truthfully, clearing your throat. “You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thank you.” He bows his head slightly, smiling at you. And unlike before, it’s not smug, but rather warm, you smile back at him. “Enjoyed the show, then?”

“I did.” You nod.

“I’m glad.” He runs his finger around the brim of his glass, tapping against it once with a click of his ring against the glass.  “What would you change about it?”

The question takes you back. “What would I change?” 

 “Yeah.” He clasps his hands over his lap, moving his feet on the floor so his stool swivels from one side to the other.

“Uhm…” You crease your brows, trying to hack your brain for an answer. Your eyes land on his blouse, still halfway unbuttoned. “Your shirt.”

“M’shirt?” He questions, brows shooting towards his hairline, clearly not expecting the answer. He gazes down at the piece on his body, fingers pitching the material as he looks back at you. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Not a big fan of pink.” You shrug.

“Now, we just can’t have that, bunny.” He clicks his tongue. “Pink is the new color of rock n roll!”

You chuckle. “Says who?”

“Says me.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Oh, I’m sorry then, mister rockstar.”

His face lights up in a giggle, lips parting to say something but before he can let the words out a hand rests on his shoulder calling both your attentions to the man standing next to him. You recognize him from standing next to Harry on stage as the guitar player.

“We’re hopping over to Eamon’s.” He doesn’t acknowledge you until Harry’s eyes hover over in your direction. 

“That’s fine, think I’ll stay behind this time.” Harry looks back at his friend, but you see him glimpsing at you from the corner of his eyes.

You watch as his friend raises his brows, gazing between the two of you in a curious manner. You clear your throat, shifting in your seat as you look at them. “ It’s fine, I should get going anyway.”

“You don’t have to,” he says in a blink, a smirk twitching on his lips almost as if to cover up how quickly he said it. He turns back to his friend, who’s still watching the interaction with raised eyebrows.  “You can go without me, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Harry, you didn’t have to.” You subconsciously reach for his arm, retracting your touch just as fast when he glances at it. Clearing your throat, you play with “I really should get going, I was supposed to be on a walk after all.”

“Let me walk you back then,” he gets up from his stool, giving his friend a brief hug before turning back to you and extending his hand for you to take. Your lips part to protest, feeling as if you’re holding him back even though it was his decision to stay behind, but before the words can even come out of your mouth he beats you to it,  “there’s no way I’m letting you go home by yourself this late, love.”

You sigh, shoulder dropping in defeat as you hold back a smile. Taking his hand, you stand up, “okay.”

The main street hasn’t exactly quieted down since you first walked by it, in fact, it only seems like it’s gotten rowdier. Time only increasing the buzz wandering in the air around the people filling the bars, voices louder, filled glasses clinking more frequently. As you stroll through it side by side there’s a comment or to that floats in the air, but you have to all but shout it, fighting with the turmoil of noise.

As soon as you turn into the first street away from the crowds it’s as if someone had turned off the sound completely, the nest of voices getting far-off in the distance and the loudest sound being of the night breeze kissing the tree branches above you. You can feel Harry glancing up at you from the corner of your eye and it doesn’t take long until his voice echoes in the air in an attempt to make small talk.

It’s surprising to you, how easy it is to be drawn in a conversation with him. Harry’s essentially not the same offstage as he is under the spotlight, most people aren’t. There’s no need for him to bloat his charisma when talking to you, he’s quieter. Shy, almost. And it takes you back a bit, to see such contrast in a short amount of time. 

The magnetic force to him, however, still lingers even when he’s like this. You feel drawn to it, wanting to hear him speak about everything that comes to mind, just to savor the way he articulates his words, voice so calm and low it sends an electric chill down your spine. As he tells you about his music inspirations, going on the story about the time he traveled alone to crash a Fleetwood Mac concert, hands brushing against yours when he walks, you catch yourself wondering what it would feel like to link them together.

Once you reach your street, just a block away from the entrance gate of your home, you notice the front lights are yet to be turned off, indicating your roommates are still up and around -- most likely arguing about MTV’s top ten of the week. The realization makes you come to an abrupt stop, catching Harry off guard as he takes a few steps before realizing you stayed behind. 

“Wait.” You say once he turns around, brows furrowed in a silent question as to why you stopped. “Uhm… You can drop me off here… It’s fine.”

“What do you mean? Is it too far? I don’t mind walking-”

“No!” You interrupt. “It’s not that, my house is right there, see?” You point to the bricked building no too far from where you stand.

“Why do y’want me to drop you off here, then?” The crease on his face deepens.

“I-- it’s just--” you begin, not knowing how to say it. “It’s just the girls are still awake, and..”

“Ah,” he clicks his tongue, an amused grin expanding on his cheeks. “Don’t wanna get scolded for hanging out with the enemy.”

“Don’t say like that.” You chuckle at yourself, looking down in embarrassment. “They just will never let me hear the end of it.”

“I get it, bunny.” He takes easy steps towards you, closing the space as he stands tall in front of you. You hold your breath as you look up at him, meeting his irises glimmering in enjoyment, dimples shadowing on his cheek. His hand reaches up, moving a strand of your hair behind your ear and you swear if he gets any closer he’ll be able to hear your heart thumping in anticipation. “Had a lovely time with you.”

“Me, uhm--” you clear your throat as your voice cracks, blood flooding your cheeks. “Me too.”

The streetlight above gives his face a golden glow that almost takes your breath away, his hair glistening in the light due to the gel pushing it back, and now even more rebel strands curl against his forehead. You half expect him to lean down, you don’t know why he would, but for a moment it seems like he will. To your dismay, however, he steps back, giving you one last smile before moving out of your way on the sidewalk. “I’ll see you around, then.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“I have some exciting news for you.”

Abbey’s voice startles you, not realizing she’d entered the dressing room while you focused on the book on your lap. Since you’ve gotten a spot at every other weekend on the pub, your routine just seemed to get even more busy, with rehearsals almost every day. So, because of that you barely find time to do your assignments. And with a book report due just around the corner, you’d thought maybe you could sneak in some reading time after the gig when everyone’s down at the bar and not prancing and screaming around the dressing room.

 Your assumptions shows itself to be wrong, however, when your perky friend bounces her way to where you sit. She kneels next to the couch, crossing her arms on top of your legs and resting her chin on them, looking up at you expectantly, lips lifted in a side grin. 

“What is it?”

“Got us an after-party, babe.” you notice a few colored lollies in her hand when she removes the plastic protecting a red one, shoving it between your lips before you can even protest. “And you’re coming with us.”

“I’d love to but I have class tom—“ Your voice is muffled around the sweet. 

She rolls her eyes, standing to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. “You should stop wasting your life with an outdated system” 

“You mean getting a degree?” 

“Do you watch the news? We’re about to be the last generation to live fully, the world is about to break into nuclear wars all around.” She says as a matter-of-fact, turning to rest her legs on top of your lap. “Cosmo said we probably won’t even make it to the 2000s” 

“Who’s Cosmo?” 

She sighs, reaching to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. Her voice comes out soft, but calculated, “what matters is that we should enjoy our time while we have it.” 

“You’re giving a whole speech about nuclear war to convince me to go to a party with you.” You arch your brows at her. 

“Yes.” 

You sigh, shoulders falling in defeat as you let yourself be convinced. “Okay. But I’ll—” 

“Great!!” She squeals, moving her legs from your lap and leaning down to grab your face, pressing a quick kiss on top of your hair before jumping from the couch, and out of the room. 

Once you arrive at the location of the after-party, Abbey leads you and Lena to a tall gate by the side of the house, explaining that you’re walking in from the back garden, considering the front door is locked. You find it odd, and if wasn’t for the muted sound of instruments echoing inside the bricked walls of the place, you’d doubt there was even a party happening here at all. The front of it was as regular as the other surrounding suburbian homes, grass neatly trimmed and the front lights turned off, as if nobody was even home.

Which is why you’re visibly taken back when you walk by the gate into the back area, finding an old vintage bus that could be around ten or even twenty years old, sitting in the middle of the grass. The wheels of it have been taken off, and every inch of the exterior is covered by graffiti, so much you couldn’t even make out the original color of it if you tried. Some of them are unreadable scribbles tangling on top of each other. Some are colorful drawings painted over them -- two sunflowers catch your attention, marked just above where the wheel would be, growing tall along the side and above the window.

“I know, right?” Abbey nods at your astounded expression. “Legend says John Lennon signed it somewhere.”

“Really?” You look at her, not able to hold back the way your voice pitches in amazement.

“Dunno, never looked for it.” She shrugs. “C’mon I’ll show you.”

She grabs your hand, dragging you to the side of the vehicle pointing at some random drawings and explaining the rumors behind their meanings. You try to concentrate on her excited babbles, but as you see Lena walking away from the corner of your eye you look up to watch her meet with a girl you’ve never seen. Before you can focus back on your friend, something else catches your attention, sitting on a wooden bench under a large tree, no too far from where you stand.

Harry’s in a small group sat in a circle. You recognize two men from his band sitting on the grass with guitars propped on their laps, one being the same that interrupted you the night at the bar. The rest are women who seem to have come right out of Fleetwood Mac’s tour bus, their long hairs pushed back with hairbands and earthtoned flare pants. But you barely even care about the ones sitting on the grass, humming along to the strings of the guitars. What grabs your attention is the one next to harry on the bench, her arm draped over his shoulder as she dabbles flower petals playfully on his hair. 

You hardly take in his appearance, half-mindedly noticing the tattoos decorating his arms that pokes out of his tank top and the twirls on his hair as the girl winds her fingers on it. it’s hard not to remember Abbey’s words when she said he knows how to sweet talk his way around, and the thought of having fallen down on his trap only makes your heart pang on your chest. 

“-- That’s basically why they won’t let anyone paint over it anymore.” You turn back to Abbey as she points to the sunflowers you’d spotted earlier, nodding along as if you’d heard everything she said. She looks at you, “but I like this way better, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah.” You agree, not exactly knowing what to.  

She wraps her arm around yours, and you grasp the minty scent of her perfume as she pulls you close. “Let’s go inside.” 

There’s an urge inside of you to peek back over your shoulder to catch a last glimpse of Harry, but you push it to the back of your mind, allowing Abbey to guide you around the bus where the entrance door is hanging open. 

A small group of people greet you inside the bus, amongst them is the said ‘Cosmo’.  He seems like the exact kind of person you’d imagine Abbey hanging around on her weekends’ escapades. Dressed in a baby blue velvet suit with nothing underneath his blazer except a few of - what you assume - hand-painted tattoos, matching with a rainbow stripe drawn on the side of his face, starting at the bridge of his nose and going all the way to the curve of his jaw. His hair hits just around his shoulders, the sides shaved so it’s like a puffed version of a mullet, edges dyed in a bright shade of red. He toys with a lit joint between his purple lips, picking it up and offering to you with a raise of his brows.

Normally you’d decline the offer, especially coming from someone you’d just met, but there’s an annoying feeling settling itself at the pit of your stomach. One you want to ignore but can only do so much to dull it, so you accept the joint, reaching for it and placing it in your mouth. 

You’re not a regular smoker by any means, and when you inhale you can feel the smoke burning your throat as it moves down to curl inside your lungs. It makes you want to cough it out but you hold it in, trying to take in everything before huffing it out in a choked breath.

“Do you want a drink?” One of the girls asks you, already pouring you a purple drink inside a labeless plastic bottle.

“What’s in this?” You accept the cup, giving her an skeptic look.

“Pure fuel, babe.” Abbey leans on your shoulder from behind.

You hang out in the bus for a while, and, to your surprise, you don’t feel left out as they keep notice to include you in their conversations. The drink ends up being not that bad, and, even having no idea what’s in it except for the very artificial citric taste mixed with some very strong cheap alcohol, you still refill your cup after you finish it. 

It’s a nice feeling, to get a bit looser in a party and allowing yourself to have some adventurous fun. And as time goes by and your mind gets cloudier, the group starts to disperse. Two of them find a spot in the back with as much privacy as they could get in a party to swallow each others faces. Another one passes out in one of the seats behind you, hugging the empty plastic bottle as if it’d run away from them. It leaves just Abbey and Cosmo with you, discussing with each other about something that you’ve stopped paying attention a long while ago.

You just watch them silently, resting your head back on the seat and feeling the late hours weightening on your eyelids. You feel like you could doze off at any moment, but what stops you from it is a loud screeching sound of an amplifier from inside the house. It startles you, making you jump slightly on your seat as you hear a voice speaking almost like a groan, and you’re not sure if it’s your drunken mind or the inaudible words but you can’t make out a single thing that’s being said. A crease deepens between your eyebrows and you turn to question your friend about it but, before you can do so what seems like the most obnoxious cover of  We Built This City starts playing.

Abbey gasps as the chords of the song somehow get even louder, grasping her hand on the man’s arm. “Oh my god!” She squeals, exchanging a look with Cosmo as they both all but jump from their seats. She glances down at you, “We’re going in, are you coming?”

You raise your brows at her, trying to hide the scrunch on your face. “I’m good.”

She nods, making her way out of the bus, her feet stumbling on each other as she holds onto her friend’s shoulder to keep her balance. And just like that, you’re left alone on the leather seat.

You peek at the couple in the back, eyes bulging slightly as you see the girl has lost her shirt, the boy’s hands caress her chest as they keep their lips locked harshly. Deciding to give them a bit more privacy, you make your way out of the bus as well, the contrast from the compact air inside the vehicle to the crisp wind of the outdoors sending chills down your body.

Looking around, you realize most people hanging around are gone, probably gone inside the house. You can’t help but let your eyes wander to the spot you’d seen Harry earlier, and you don’t hold back the shock in your face when you find him still sitting on the bench, but this time with no one else around him. He fiddles with a lighter on his hand, flickering every so often to watch the weak flame before letting it die again. 

Your feet start to move before you can really grasp that you’re walking towards him, your head still a bit cloudy from the substances in your bloodstream. He looks up once you get close to him, signature smirk growing on his lips as he glances up at you.

“Look what we have here.” He leans back, “a lost bunny.” 

“Hi, Harry.” You say simply.

His smile turns a bit softer. “Where are your bandmates?”

“Celebrating.” You shrug.

“Shouldn’t you be as well?”

“I am.” You hold up the mostly empty red cup.

He chuckles. “I see, having fun by yourself then?”

You focus on a spot beyond his head, suddenly feeling timid under his gaze. “Seems like it.”

“Want to join my private party here?” He shifts to his side, patting the spot next to him. “S’very exclusive, as you can see.”

“Well, I’m honored to be invited, then.” You sit down on the space he made for you.

For a moment, there’s a silence between the two of you, the only sound being the jarring cover of  Everybody Wants to Rule The World. The notes of it are so off that you can’t help but huff a relieved breath when it comes to an end, enjoying the few seconds of silence before they begin another song. 

A small groan leaves your lips when the noise starts again, catching Harry’s attention as you feel his eyes land on the side of your face. “It should be illegal to ruin great songs like this.” You shake your head to yourself, speaking your thoughts out loud in a rush of confidence. “They should get arrested for it.”

He chuckles. “You’re not wrong.”

Your eyes dart at him, meeting his. It’s hard to miss the way his irises glimmer under the moonlight. When he glances down at the lighter still in his hands you take the opportunity to really have a look at him. The proximity makes you aware of a small constellation of freckles kissing his nose, and the stubble starting to poke out the skin along his jawline. You want to blame the haziness in your mind for the thoughts of how it would feel like to have it scratching against your skin. Or how it would feel under your lips as you nibble your way all the way to his rosy lips. You want to push these away, belittle them as nothing but drunken thoughts. But you know very well it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve let yourself be entertained by them.

A pitched scream takes you out of your head. You realize there’s been a beat of silence since he’s spoken, so you clear your throat, a warmth creeping up on your neck as if he’d been able to hear your thoughts. “Do you know them?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Not really, no. They played in the pub once, Ronnie hated them.” He glances at you, corner of his lips itching upwards. “Call themselves Crystal Illusion, so there’s that.”

“Christ.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. “And here I thought it couldn’t get any worse.”

The sound of his giggle makes you look back at him, catching the sight of his dimples carving deep on his cheeks. “You’re really something, aren’t you, bunny?”

“Why do you call me that?” The question rolls of your tongue before you can even think about it. His brows raise at your question, and you decide to enjoy the rush of confidence and pick on it further. “Dunno if I’m supposed to feel offended or charmed.”

 “Don’t mean it as a tease, can tell that much.” He smiles, shrugging slightly. “You just remind me of a bunny.”

The words pique your curiosity. “How so?”

He looks back down to his lap, and if it wasn’t for the poor lighting you would be sure of the blush taking over his cheeks. “Just all cute -- could tell you were a bit reserved, and like, curious. Had your eyes wandering all around when I first saw you.” He moves his head around lightly as if to explain his point and you have to bite back a smile. “And when you were focused you’d scrunch your nose a bit. Like a bunny.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say I have big ears.” You try to humor, searching for his eyes.

He laughs, looking up at you. “I mean, now that you’ve mentioned it…”

Your gasp shifts into a giggle as you push him away playfully. “Well, if I’m a bunny...” You pause, racking your mind to think of an analogy for him, but your mind is still a bit slowed down, your thoughts taking a beat too long to catch up to your words. When you glance down to the arm that’s brushing against yours, you notice the tattoo peaking on his skin. You reach for it without thinking about it, fingers tracing the ink as you take in the drawing, his eyes follow your touch curiously. “Then you’re an eagle.” You cringe to yourself as soon as the words come out of your mouth, attempting to mask it as you breathe out a laugh.

He arches his brows, lips fluttering, trying to hold back a smile. “You think I’ll kill you?”

“Oh shit, you’re right.” You cover your face with your hand, shaking your head at yourself. “Didn’t think that one through.” Your laughs meld together for a moment, slowly dying off and giving space a comfortable silence. The only sounds being the nightly hum of cicadas and the whisper of the breeze against the branches of the trees, that and, well, the faint screams of instruments from inside the house. Looking up at him, a breath hitches when you realize the proximity of his eyes to yours. You try to tease him but when you speak your voice comes out lower than you expected, almost in a whisper,  “so you think I’m cute?”

“Course I do.” He says in a blink. “Don’t think that’s much of a secret, love.”

You chew on your bottom lip, not missing the way his eyes dart down on your face. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He smirks, wiggling his eyebrow teasingly. “Think I’m pretty?”

“I won’t inflate your ego if that’s what you want.”

“I tried.” He breathes out a laugh, eyes moving back down on your face but this time he doesn’t rush them back to yours, not hiding the intent of his gaze. For the first time, you’re glad for the background noise, afraid that if it wasn’t for it he’d be able to hear the thumping of your heart.“Can I kiss you?”

“Huh?” You blink at him, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you’re a bit taken back at the forwardness of the question.

 He moves his arm to rest on the back of the bench, turning his hand to play with the tips of your hair. “Can I kiss you, bunny?” He repeats.

You nod before you can find it in you to voice your answer, clearing your throat, “yes.”

The hand that’s not in your hair moves to caress your cheek, he takes a moment to look at you, thumb rubbing your cheek gently before he leans in. Your eyes flutter close instinctively, holding your breath in anticipation as you feel his lips on the corner of your mouth. He keeps them there for a beat before pulling back, tilting your face a little just to finally close the space between your mouths.

The kiss starts slow. Uncertain, even. His lips are soft against yours, warm breath hitting your cupid bow as he sucks in your bottom lip gently. You feel his hand cupping your jaw, sneaking behind your neck as he pulls you closer and you all but melt under his touch. Being this close you can smell the scent of his cologne mixed with the smoke of cigarettes, and something about it is so sensual you can’t help but grip on his shirt as to have something to hold on to.

You can feel yourself getting lost on his touch, shamelessly scooping to the side as you enlace your thighs for the sake of being closer to him. His hand falls on your knee, rubbing it as your tongue line on his bottom lip.

It’s the sound of the door that leads to the house sliding open that falls like a bucket of ice water on your head, reminding you of your surroundings, and that you’re not, in fact, alone with him in the garden, which means any of your friends could easily spot you if they were to walk outside.

  It’s almost like he reads your mind when you pull away from him, loosening your grasp on the material of his shirt. His lips don’t let you get far, trailing their way along your jaw until he can bite on your lobe. “Relax, petal” He whispers, pulling back to look at you as your noses brush together. “They won’t see us, even if they do they’re probably too stoned to even care.”

You let out a weak chuckle, gazing at the door where a group of people stumble their way towards the bus, voices loud as they slur incoherent words. It’s hard to see inside the house as most of the lights inside seem to be turned off, but you can tell how packed it is, bodies pressed so close together it makes you wince slightly just with the thought of being amongst them. Looking back at him, you ponder for a second before nodding. “You’re right.”

A grin paints on his face before he leans in, closing the space between you once again.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“Still with us?” A call of your name on the mic snaps you out of your thoughts.

Looking up, you’re met with your bandmates curious eyes staring right at you and you realize you’ve probably been too lost in your own head to pay attention to the conversation in hand. Your lips part for a split second, trying to think of an answer that doesn’t give away your lack of focus but a single look at Abbey’s arched brows and you know you’ve been caught. 

You clear your throat, lips tugging on a guilty smile. “Sorry, I am now.” 

It’s hard not to let your eyes glimpse to the back of the room, where the sole reason for your distraction sits quietly on his regular spot, tucked behind his journal and doing his own thing. But you hold back the stare, knowing your moves were being watched by your friend who’s back to talking about the setlist changes for the night, and who would not be happy in the slightest to notice your wandering eyes falling on the one person she despises the most. You wonder how she’d react if she got her hands on the piece of paper burning through the back pocket of your denim shorts. 

The message was short and simple, but the connotation behind it carried a much stronger meaning to it.

Meet me in the back before the gig, want to see you. -H

You found it tucked inside your case, lying innocently on top of your bass, apparent enough so anyone who’d opened the case could’ve found it before you. Surely, no one else did, otherwise, you wouldn’t hear the end of it from the minute you’d stepped into the place. Which makes you wonder how he managed to slip in the note sneakily enough without anyone noticing it, but the curiosity is well dulled in your mind by the pounding of your heart.

To your dismay, however, you barely got a look at him throughout the rehearsal. You got to The Blue Bird later than you’d intended to, the tutoring session you had on the day ended up running later than you’d expected. So by the time you stepped through the string curtains of the pub  Harry was already tucked on the shadowy corner and everyone else was hanging by the stage waiting for you, barely giving you a second to set your bag in the dressing room.

So it’s hard for you not to stare when he gets up from his seat, walking into the lighter space of the bar with his signature smirk painted on his face. You’d just gone through the last song of your set for the second time -- an amplified version of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (Lena insisting on repeating it after messing up on the first try). He’s holding a maroon leather jacket on his arm, along with his journal, leaving his arms bare under his Bowie tank top -- which, as he approaches the stage you notice the uneven hem on the sleeves, suggesting he might’ve cut them off himself.  His hair is running wild as usual, the fringe curling against his forehead and you chew on your lip at the thought of running your hands through it as you did not even a week ago.

He reaches to the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he reaches the end of the stage. “That was a great one, everybody, maybe if you keep it going we can get you a spot on that wacky show they’re premiering.” He sets the stuff he’s carrying on the stage floor, crossing his arms on top of it. “What’s it called again? ‘S like ‘gag me with a spoon’ or something like that.”

“We wouldn’t want to steal your spot again.” The words leave your lips before you can process them, for a moment forgetting you’re not alone with him so your playful tease can be easily interpreted as mocking. 

He rests the things he’s carrying on his arm on the stage floor, hoisting himself up almost effortlessly before picking them up again, walking the few steps it takes for him to stand in front of you. His lips are tugged on a shit-eating grin. “Got another feisty one in here, huh?” He crosses his arms under his chest, and you can’t help but note the way his muscles flex at the gesture, his tattoos dancing slightly on his skin. “What makes you so smug about stealing my spot? Reckon Ronnie only said he needed more chicks hanging around.”

“If that’s the case then there’s no need for you to be intimidated by a band of chicks, then.” You keep your eyes trained on his, but you can notice Abbey’s getting wider from over his shoulder. 

His lips twitch up, and you can tell he’s holding back a genuine smile as not to crack your act. “Am I intimidated now, bunny?”

“It’s what it looks like.” You shrug, now holding back your own smile.

“Maybe you need to take a better look at things then, angel.”  He starts walking backwards in the direction of the backstage. “Wouldn’t want any more misunderstandings, would we?”

“Don’t think we would.” 

And with that, he turns around, walking the rest of the way out and disappearing as he rounds the corner to where you know it’s the door leading to the back alleyway. You just stand there quietly for a moment, following his steps as you try to recollect what just happened. For the two of you, it was clear that the tension was the product of an unspoken want circling around, but you question for a second if that’s the impression that your friends had. And as you look at their expressions, raised brows and mouths agape, it’s hard to tell.

“Holy shit, babe.” Abbey is the first to speak out. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

You hold back a relieved exhale, shrugging slightly as you remove the strap of the bass from your shoulder. “He was just getting on my nerves.” You face away from her, placing the instrument on the stand.

The anticipation of meeting Harry grows impatiently on your stomach as you try to find a gap where no one’s attention is on you to sneak out of the dressing room. It seems as if every time you think you can do it, someone pulls you in, either to try to push you another pill of something you’re not sure what it is or to ask you to help with their makeup. But as the room gets filled and people get higher, their focus become more diffuse, and finally, after finishing assisting Jaz with her eyeliner (her hands were too shaky to get it right) you manage to slip out the room into the corridor.

There’s a sense of recognition that takes over your body when you feel the wind messing with your hair as you step out the building to be met with Harry’s figure leaning back on the wall, not too far from the spot you found him the last time you’d been in this same position. His eyes shoot in your direction as soon as you step through the door as if he’d been waiting for this just as eagerly as you were. He quickly throws the butt of the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it before standing tall as you slowly approach him.

“Hi.” You say simply, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shorts -- not knowing with to do with your hands.

“Hi.” His grin grows. “Came back here to intimidate me?” He teases, biting on his bottom lip.

“Actually,” you scrunch your lips, deciding to play his game as you reach on your back pocket, retrieving the small piece of paper and holding it up. “Got this very desperate note from a secret admirer but I don’t see any hotties here.” You click your tongue, looking around as you let out a loud sigh. “Guess it might be just a misunderstanding.”

He laughs, hands reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “That’s too bad, guess you’re stuck with me”

“Yeah?” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, stepping closer so that your chests meet and his forehead falls against yours.

He nods in response, your noses brushing gently before he leans to meet your mouth with his own.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s a thrilling feeling that settles deep within you when it comes to holding a secret.

It’s that spark of excitement that brings a kaleidoscope of butterflies to come alive on your stomach. The kind of feeling that makes every cell of your body feel not just simply alive but as if it’s burning with joy. Which is why you guess falling into a routine of sneaking around with Harry on secret little rendezvous was so easy, to begin with. 

Of course, your friends’ opinions are important to you, but you know that you’re an adult very much capable of making your own decisions. That means sleeping with anyone you’d like despite their ill opinions about the person, without having to sneak around as if you’re teenagers hiding from your parents. You know that, and you try to remind yourself of that every time you catch yourself lying to them about your whereabouts at every coming day. 

In the beginning, you weren’t even sure that there was anything to it except for a couple of innocent kisses, maybe some not-so-innocent touches here and there, but nothing really worth even telling anyone. You’d only really see Harry on the weekends. When he would steal moments with you before your gigs when you “had to take a breather”. Or when mysteriously disappeared from your friends’ sides during after parties after they already had their minds buzzed and noses backed up. Or even when your night walks would tart becoming gradually longer due to your curiosity getting the best of you once you found yourself in front of the familiar Pub on Harry’s nights.

The weekends’ escapades took a different turn when they graduated to weekdays. Things took a quick turn then. It started with him offering you a ride to the houses for your tutoring or to the library (stealing kisses every now and then, of course). And before you knew, you were making up classes or books to rent for your oblivious roommates, only to spend hours on Harry’s car. Coming back with puffy lips and messy hair.

Part of you felt bad for going behind their backs, every now and then feeling an urge to pull Lena aside and gush about him for as long as your heart desired.

But it’s the thrill of it, of having something that’s just yours to have, that no one else knows except the two of you. The adrenaline that comes with the possibility of getting caught at any moment, but being able to get away with it. It’s almost addicting to you, so you prefer to have these moments just to yourself.

As the days went by, and those days turned into weeks, and those weeks turned into months, it just made it harder for you to tell them you’d been hiding a whole relationship for this amount of time. Well, not exactly a relationship, but as close as you ever got to one anyway.

And it’s not like you’d never had anyone before. Being in the music scene, you’ve had your quite a few amounts of flings — even though not as many as it’s expected. But no one has ever left you as enamored as him, especially not as quickly as he has. He’s intriguing, carrying around that mysterious aura around him that leaves everyone wondering the secrets he holds in his heart. 

Although when it’s just the two of you it’s like this cocky persona of him completely dissolves. It’s a complete contrast from the image he carries around the restless mouths of prying people. He’s not that enigmatic heartbreaker who hops around strangers beds as if to live that classic Rock ‘n Roll lifestyle you see on TV. Rather, he’s shown himself to be the most caring man you’ve ever been with.

And that’s how you found yourself in this position, your body awkwardly positioned on your side in the rear seat of his car. A hand tangled on his hair while the other pulls at his Bowie shirt, you know your lips are probably starting to get swollen and his are taking a raspberry tone from the way they’d been sucking at one another. So with that in mind, you part from his mouth, trailing kisses along his cheek, and a final one at his nose before sitting back on the seat.

Just as you predicted his rose-colored lips are plump as he grins back at you, his locks are wild on top of his head. His hair has grown around his jawline now, curls poking out in all directions and you can’t help but reach your hand to pull his fringe back from his forehead. His smile growing fondly and eyes fluttering shut as you run your hand through his strands. 

When you pull away you catch a glimpse of your wrist clock, cringing slightly at yourself as you realize you should start thinking of heading home.

“I have to go soon.” You let your hand fall to your lap with a sigh.

“Already?” He pouts. “Barely had any time together.”

“We’ve been here for two hours, silly.” You giggle at his dramatics, leaning to press your lips on his chin.

He throws an arm over your shoulder, keeping you close. “Exactly, barely any time.”

He turns his head to connect your mouths once more before pulling you against him so your head rests on his shoulder. You look beyond the glass of the windshield to the nearly empty street -- saving from a few people walking back from what you assume is a day of work

He’s parked on the usual spot two blocks away from your house, and from this angle, you can see the front gate that leads to the entrance. The front seat of the coupe still folded forward as there was no reason to set it back to place considering the circumstance in which you were on the backseat. You had called home from the payphone in front of the library, letting Lena know you’d be home late to catch up with some studies -- another lie to your pile.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of you -- apart from the low voice of the radio Dj interrupting A-ha’s Take On Me in the background. If you move your head just right you can hear his speeding heartbeat, and if wasn’t for the faltering on his breathing you’d assume he was just as relaxed as you are. You move away from him, his arm falling around your waist, looking at his profile as he pokes at his jeans, a crease between his eyebrows.

You rest your cheek against the leather seat, grasping his chin with your fingers and gently moving his head so his gaze meets yours. “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He breathes out a laugh, shrugging lightly as he brings his hand to scratch at the tip of his nose. “Nothing much.”

“But there’s something.” You insist, being able to tell he’s pondering over something.

“It’s just-- I just thought--” he pauses with a sigh. You play with the rings on his fingers, waiting patiently for him to express his thoughts, you can tell he’s a bit nervous which is an adorable change from his regular charming demeanor. “I wanted to maybe-- like, we could have a date.”

. 

You straighten your posture, lips parting as you take in his words. “A date?”

“Yeah… A proper one, you know?” He shrugs, eyes darting back on yours. “If you want to, that is! Don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

“I do, H.” You nod, chewing on your lip as you try to recollect your thoughts. It’s not as if you don’t want to go on a date with him, that couldn’t be further from the truth. But turning it into a formality just changes completely the scheme of things and, as much as you felt like this is an inevitable step to take at some point, you still feel protective to an extent of this secret you have between the two of you. So you can help but let your voice come a little apologetic, “it’s just--”

“I know.” His shoulders drop and you can’t help but feel a tug at your heart.

“Hey.” You caress his cheek. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay.” His lips perk up in a small smile, and you lean forward to give him a peck.

He’s still looking at you with puppy-like eyes and it does nothing to help the heaviness in your heart from turning him down. You lean again this time to spread kisses around his cheek as an attempt to pull a giggle out of him, but you only earn a light chuckle so you seat back tilting your head to look at him with a pluck of your lips. “C’mon where’s my smug rockstar gone?”

“He’s right here.” The shadow of his dimples appears on his cheeks. His voice comes out low and gentle, as if he’s still pondering over what you said earlier, “just toned him down a bit.”

You sigh, trying to rack your brain to another subject that can distract him from it. You catch sight of the slightly smudged end of his eyeliner, and your face lights up as you remember a request you’ve always wanted to bring it up. “Do you want to know something?” Biting back a cheeky grin, you cross your arms under your chin as he looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Should let me do your makeup, so you can be a proper rockstar.”

He lets out a laugh. “Do I need that, now?”

“Mhm, said it yourself, it’s part of the look.”

“Did I say that?” You nod, teeth still biting on your lip. He lets out a breath, contemplating the idea for a second before looking back at you. “Okay then.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Course, could never say no to you even if I tried.” He lets his hand fall on your thigh, rubbing it gently. “On one condition, though.” You arch your brows in question. “Come to my gig tomorrow.”

You face scrunches in confusion. “I always go to your gigs.”

“Yeah but I mean go earlier, like so we can hang out before and stuff.” His finger starts to draw circles on your knee. “So you can do my makeup, too, can go on stage looking all pretty.”

“As if you could ever look anything less than pretty.” You say before sitting back, thinking of his proposal. “You’re asking me to be there early…”

“What? D’you have plans already? Got a boyfriend I don’t know about?” And there it is, the teasing Harry you know.

You shake your head, poking his side playfully. “Oh yeah, maybe I should’ve mentioned him sooner.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes before looking at you, his voice coming down to a pleading tone. “Come, please.”

Before the yes can roll off your tongue you remember that you wouldn’t be alone with him. “What about your band?” 

He furrows his brows. “What about them?”

“Well, do they know?”

“They couldn’t care less about us, baby.” He sighs, head falling back on the seat as he moves his hand so it rests on your inner thigh, rubbing a spot in there. “Have no meaning hiding you.”

You can’t hold back the smile that grows on your lips, leaning to press a kiss to his mouth before letting professing in just above a whisper, “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁ 

“‘S poking my eye.”

“Shh, quiet.”

“You’re rubbing it too harsh.” Harry grabs your wrist, eyes fluttering open to stare up at you.

“I’m being gentle, you’re just not used to the feeling of the brush.” You argue, keeping a finger under his chin so his head is tilted upwards as you shuffle on his lap. “Now close your eyes, I’m almost done.”

He lets out a huff, trying to feign annoyance, but the slight twitch of his lips and the subtle appearance of his dimples break his facade. You know as much as he won’t admit to it, he’s quite enjoying having you propped on his lap, fingers stroking gently his eyelids while you hum along to The Cure’s record that’s mixing with the murmurs of the other people in the room.

To your surprise, you’ve come to realize that the dressing room is significantly less chaotic when it comes to Harry’s band. The place is not nearly as packed as it can get during your nights, in fact, apart from the band itself, there’s only a handful of people hanging around. And as much as you notice their bloated pupils and stumbled walks, they mostly keep it to themselves, sharing around a bottle of vodka to wash down their pills.

Like Harry had assured you, his bandmates couldn’t be less bothered by your presence amongst them. And as much as you recognize all from the numerous gig you’ve been in before, and that according to them your name has been frequently mentioned by Harry himself (which did make his cheeks turn into an adorable shade of red), it’s nice to be formally introduced to them. In fact, they were so quick to treat you as one of their own that you could feel a slightly guilty feeling expanding on your chest from the number of times you’d heard your friends bad mouthing them in attempts to joke around. 

You swallowed the feeling back, though, accepting a plastic cup they poured with champagne (which you learned is a tradition before gigs) and making a conversation.

“Are you done yet?” You feel the vibration of his voice on that back of your fingers that touch against his throat.

“Yes,” you say with a final stroke of your brush on his eyes, sitting back to admire your work with your teeth carved on your bottom lip. “You can open your eyes, baby.”

He blinks his eyes open and you can’t help the smile that breaks through your lips as you examine the contrast of the burning red eyeshadow with his jade irises as he looks back at you. “How do I look?” 

You grab his cheeks, leaning down to press a quick peck on his lips. “Like a proper rockstar.”

“Yeah?” He grins once you let your hands caress on the smooth skin of his chest poking through his unbuttoned blue blouse. “Think I can finally get some groupies now?”

Scoffing, you swing your hand to shove him back playfully with a roll of your eyes. You try to move away but he grabs hold of your wrists, pulling you in again. “You’re insufferable.”

“Just how you like it.” His hands fall to your waist, bringing it closer as you let your arms wrap around his shoulders. 

His lips meet your on a slow kiss, allowing you to taste the strawberry flavor of the lipstick you’d applied earlier, the thought of messing it completely lost in your mind as you tilt your head to deepen it even more. His fingers now grip on your hips over your denim skirt that has ridden up considerably since you first propped yourself on his lap. For a moment you just stay like this, tangled on each other’s arms, every so often you scratch on his neck, pulling his hair just a bit so you can swallow the most delicious mewls.

He parts from you as slowly as the kiss started, pecking on your lips a couple of times before letting his head fall back, hands moving to rub at your thighs over your pink tights. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at you with a smirk, voice coming low as if he’s sharing a secret just between the two of you, “can we go to the back?”

“Sure.” You unstranddle him, adjusting your skirt as you stand up and offering your hands to help him to his feet. He takes them, almost bringing you back down on the couch as he pulls a little bit too hard. 

Once he’s up he takes a look at himself on the mirror in the wall opposite to the couch, a pleased smile on his face letting you know he likes the result of your work. He reaches for your hand then, guiding you into the hallway and out the back door you’ve become so familiar with.

Walking into the alleyway, he walks to his usual spot, leaning back on the wall and pulling you with him. His hands easily find their place on your waist once again, fingers tapping against the fabric of your skirt anxiously. Looking down at you, there’s anticipation on his eyes, as if he’s trying to tell you something but is waiting for you to bring it up.

“So,” he begins, eyes darting around as he parts his legs a bit, enough to fit you between them as he pulls you closer.

“So…” You say, drifting off as a way to encourage him to keep going.

“I’ve thought about the date thing.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his har. “Wasn’t I the one that was supposed to be doing that?”

 He shrugs slightly, looking down to where his fingers fiddle with a loose strand of your vest. There’s something very endearing about seeing him so nervous, a complete opposite to how he carries himself in public, as this cocky and confident guy. You’re grateful that he allows you to see this side of him, though, bringing your hand to caress his jawline as you wait him to speak his thoughts. “Yeah, but I had like, an idea, or whatever.”

“Do tell.”

“I thought we could do--” he shakes his head a bit. “We could go to a place that’s still more reserved, and stuff.” 

“Like?”

“I dunno, I--” he chews on his lip, a habit he’s starting to get from you. “Thought we could go to my flat and like hang out, we could go to that diner that has a drive tru and get something to eat and go back to my place.” 

“Are you trying to take me home, Styles?” You tease, not being able to hold back a smile.

“It’s not like that, I just--” he huffs, cheeks getting a bit flushed as he tries to explain himself. “Just if you’re comfortable with it, of course, we can still go around on my car if you prefer, I don’t mind.”

“Harry?” You hold his cheek, moving it so his eyes can meet yours. Rubbing your thumb against his smooth skin, you try to soothe him, shooting him a fond smile.  “I think that’s a really nice idea.”

“Yeah?” You don’t miss the way his eyes light up. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Of course.”

“Cool, I can, like, call you before I leave home so you can go to our spot and I can pick you up, yeah?” It’s the fastest he’s speaking since the moment you walked out of the building, voice a pitch higher. “How about Friday?

“Great.” You giggle, tangling your fingers on his hair to pull him down so his forehead rests against yours. Lips brushing, you blink up at him, jade eyes flickering around your face, “I can’t wait.”

He smiles. “Me too.”

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

An annoyed puff leaves your lips as you notice another typo in one of the words inked in the paper poking out of the typewriter. You grab it maybe a bit too forcefully, this being the fourth time in a matter of minutes you had to do this. Taking it out of the platen, you reach for the whiteout conveniently prompted next to you, carefully correcting the error before putting the paper back on the machine.

With the end of the term peeking around the corner, you’ve been finding yourself in this position more often than not. Either rushing with your essays or grading assignments from your students. No matter what the arrangement is, however, there’s always a guarantee to have a half-empty mug of coffee and a pile of textbooks spattered on your desk. 

This time around is no different, as you lean back on your chair, closing your eyes and rubbing your hands over your face, you try to focus on Cyndi Lauper singing in the background as a way to relieve your stress. You can feel the inkling of a headache deep inside your forehead, indicating maybe it’s time to give yourself a break, So, you try your best to relax the tension out of your muscles, breathing in the soft chamomile scent of the burning candle on your nightstand -- it’s one Lena gave to you to help with the stress a few days ago. What disturbs you from your moment of meditation with Time After Time, making you snap out of your breathing exercise, is the ringing tone of the telephone echoing through the house. The sound comes into your room a bit muffled thanks to your closed door, but it’s still enough to irritate you.

You hear closely to the sounds outside your door, waiting for Lena, who you know is propped on the couch downstairs watching TV, to pick up the call and cease the annoying tune interrupting your moment. And as you predict, in just a few minutes the ringing noise stops as quickly as it started, making you relax back on your chair. Closing your eyes again, you let yourself go back to the moment before the interruption, untensing your shoulders. You can hear the pound of heavy footsteps coming up the wooden staircase, but don’t process them getting closer until your door swings open.

Lena is standing in your doorway with an expression that’s hard to read at first, her brows set on a slight frown her hairline and mouth agape. Before you can tell her off for her sudden entrance she’s already speaking, “can you tell me why the fuck Harry Styles is calling our house looking for you?”

You can feel your heartbeat falter at her words, eyes widening as you glance at your bunny-shaped clock and realizing you had gotten so lost in your studies you forgot about the date. “Shit,” you get up so fast from your chair it falls back on the rug. You turn to Lena, who’s watching the scene with the most amused smirk on her face, “is he still one the line?”

As soon as she nods you’re stumbling down the stairs, almost falling down on the last steps but catching yourself up on the railing. You reach for the wired phone lying upwards on the hallway stand, picking it up and walking into the closest door - which happens to be the coat closet - closing it behind you.

“Hello?” You sound out of breath, heartbeat roaring in your ear.

“Did I fuck it up?” His voice is hesitant, nearly remorseful, it makes your heart drop.

“I-- no, you didn’t.” You reassure, leaning back on the wall of the tiny space, instantly regretting your decision of not choosing the restroom in your panic state.  “I just got caught up with an essay and didn’t see the time passing.”

“Do you want to reschedule?” He drags out the words as if he doesn’t want to say them. “We can do this another day, I don’t mind.”

“No!” You protest quickly, reaching back to roughly adjust a hanger that’s poking on your neck, causing a raincoat to fall on your feet. “Of course not, I really need a break, anyway. I want to see you.”

“Want to see you, too.” You can hear the smile on his voice. “What about your friend?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple slightly. “I’ll talk to her, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” He says. “I’ll be at yours in around fifteen, is that good?”

“That’s perfect, yes.”

“I’ll see you in a bit then…” He drifts off, as if he wants to say something else, but stops himself.

“See you.”

The familiar sound of the deadline takes place and you sigh, letting your head fall back on the wall with a thump and staying like that for a moment. When you step out of the closet, the first thing you see is Lena leaning against the railing of the stairs, shaking her head at you in disbelief. “You bitch.”

Your shoulders drop, not wanting to have this conversation right now, as you put the phone back on the base. “Can we not do this--”

“You’ve been fucking him all this time and you didn’t tell me?” She crosses her arms under her breasts. “Abbey is gonna throw a fit when she knows this.”

“You’re not gonna tell her.”

“I’m not.” She agrees with you. “But she already knows you’re sneaking out with someone.”

“She does?” Your voice gets higher, eyes widening slightly.

“She might be high as a kite most of the time, yes, but she’s not stupid.” She chuckles. “And you’re not the best at hiding either, or you thought we wouldn’t notice you’re barely at home anymore?”

You frown your mouth, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. “Does she suspect that it’s him?”

“Not really no, thought it was one of your students.”

You can’t help the horrified look that takes over your face. “I tutor children!”

“Ooh,” she breathes out a laugh. “Well, to be fair, he’s probably the last person she would suspect.”

“She’s gonna kill me.”

“Probably.” She shrugs. “But she’ll just have to get over it.”

“I guess.”

Lena looks at you, dropping her arms as she walks to you. Holding into your shoulders, her expression softens. “Don’t worry about this right now, okay? Go get ready for your date.”

“You’re right.”  You sigh, nodding. It takes you a second, but as you process her words, you frown, squinting your eyes at her. “How do you know we have a date right now?”

Her hands drop, mouth scrunching as she waves her hands around. “I just guessed.”

“Were you listening on the line?’

“Of course not!” She steps away.

“Adeline!”

She backs away, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the guiltiest look you’ve ever seen splattered on her face. “It was just a bit of it! I was curious!”

You shake your head in disbelief. “I’m gonna cut the cord of that phone in your room.”

“No, you’re not.” 

Raising your eyebrows in challenge, you take a careful step in her direction, causing her to go up another step. There’s a beat of silence where you two just stare at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. When you finally give in, racing towards the staircase, she stumbles up the rest of the steps, the sound of your giggles mixing together taking over the space.

                                 ❁         ❁        ❁

There’s an instant sense of comfort when you see Harry’s lime green Ford parked on your usual spot, one that gives an extra pep to your walk, pushing all the stress you’ve been dwelling with to the back of your mind. And as you relax into the leather seat, windows down and radio up, you let yourself enjoy the anticipation of spending the rest of your day with him that settles deep in your stomach. 

You’d always wondered what Harry’s apartment would look like, imagining his LP’s splattered across the place, along with loose papers filled with guitar riffs and song lyrics. Maybe a couple of plants here and there, from what he told you he had tried to take care of one or two before, but always ended up forgetting to water them on schedule. And there’s also a notion inside of you that two young men living together in an apartment are bound to live in somewhat of a nest, so you brace yourself for the piles of beer cans and video game wires tangling on the floor.

When he opens the front door for you, letting you walk in before him, it does surprise you to find a tidier place than you’d expected his living room to be, but you realize you’d not been much far off with your assumption. It’s clear this is a house of musicians from the second you step in, the first sight being two guitars leaning on the wall next to the mud green couch, surrounded by - you guessed it - loose papers, which you assume are filled with scribbled ideas. A wall piano also stands out across the room, a single ashtray standing on top of it next to two candles, where you assume comes the faint scent of vanilla comes from.

“Sorry about the mess,” Harry speaks out from behind you, shrugging out of his usual denim jacket and throwing it over the couch arm, looking back at you with his hands on his hips.

“It’s alright.” Your teeth sink on your bottom lip as you take in the sight of him. Without his jacket, he’s left with just a wine-colored half-buttoned blouse, sleeves rolled up to his elbows so some of his tattoos are exposed. Part of the hem is tucked inside his low waist jeans that hug his thighs so perfectly it makes you want to grip your nails on it. Shaking your head, lightly, you let your eyes wander around the room once more, so he doesn’t notice you gawking at him. “Was expecting worse, to be honest.”

“Do you think that little of me?” He feigns offense.

You giggle, taking a lazy step towards him, shrugging. “I just don’t expect two young men to know the basic of cleaning, that’s all.”

“That’s fair,” he chuckles, taking a moment to just look at you. When a silence settles between the two of you, you raise your brows at him, waiting for him to make the first move. He clears his throat, running his hand through his hair. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Sure!” You nod. “Do you have, like, beer or…”

“Yes, yes I--” he stops, face lighting up in realization. “No wait, I have something better.” He strides towards a door to where you assume the kitchen is, calling over his shoulder, “make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back!”

You laugh to yourself, shaking your head as you pull your purse off your shoulder, letting it rest beside Harry’s jacket on the couch. Glancing over your shoulder, there are no signs of him coming back, so you take the opportunity to snoop around the area. 

There’s a small center table in front of the couch, probably the messiest part of the room so far, a few movie magazines splattered around with another ashtray lying on top of it, a few butts of cigarettes long forgotten along with their ashes. Next to it, is a VHS cover of </i> Ghostbusters, a rental receipt paper scrambled on top of it. What calls your attention is a couple of cassette tapes, some with titles you recognize from being Harry’s songs scribbled on top of them but others don’t have a label, which leads you to assume they must be blank. 

You walk around the table, gazing to the tv stand, where a poster of Freud is stuck on the wall behind it -- and breathing out a laugh as you notice someone had drawn glasses and colored his beard with a red sharpie. A bookshelf stands next to it, completely filled with records (apart from a single succulent that has a piece of paper with the name “Ziggy” glued to it). Your curiosity gets the best of you, picking up some LPs on random and what does surprise you, is the lack of a common theme between them. Finding a bit of everything, from some very recognizable names you’ve seen Harry rock to, like Billy Joel and The Clash, to some you’d never even heard him speak of like Culture Club and even a brand new Madonna record.

You have just picked up the cover of Ladies of the Canyon when his voice startles you from behind. “Mitchell, huh?”

Turning back with the record still in hands, you look down at it. “I love her.” You glance up, taking notice of the glasses in his hand, filled with a liquid of a yellow so bright it reminds you of a highlighter. “What’s this?”

“This,” he hands you a glass. “Is a drink we made.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You made this?”

 “I’m a man of many talents, bunny.”

“It looks like poison.” You bring the glass up to your nostrils, taking in the strong scent of alcohol. “Am I going to be poisoned? Is this a big plan to get rid of your rival’s bassist?”

“Stop being silly.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s mainly pineapple and vodka, takes weeks to be done, proper fancy stuff, you know?”

“Oh yeah super fancy.” You tease, chewing on your bottom lip to hold back a smile.“Pineapple and vodka.”

“Shut up and drink it.” He says, watching you carefully as you slowly bring the brim of the glass to your lips, taking a small sip of it. An instant sweet taste of pineapple invading your tastebuds, but the vodka is so present it makes you scrunch your nose. Harry gives you a small smile, eyes trained on you as he waits for your verdict, “so…”

“It’s strong.” Your face is still a bit rumpled from the alcohol, but you relax it eventually taking another sip of it, this time quite more prepared for it. “But it’s good, tastes like pineapple and vodka, who would say?”

“Shut up.” He chuckles, taking a step back and propping himself down on the couch.

With the record still in hands, you turn to put it back where you found it, admiring the full bookshelf once more. “Got a nice collection here, Styles, I gotta admit.”

He sips on his drink. “Found something you fancy in there?”

“A couple.”

“Put on something you like.” He motions to the record player standing next to the shelf. You look through the vast collection again, picking some at random and putting it back once you realize it’s not what you’re looking for. After going through a few, you finally stumble upon Elton John’ Madman Across The Water, holding it up to show it to Harry. “Oh, so we’re in one of those moods?”

You pull the vinyl from the sleeve, carefully placing it on the player and adjusting the needle over it. As the beginning note of Tiny Dancer float through the room, you look back at him. “What mood?”

 “Like, a happy-sad kind of mood.”

You nod, setting yourself on the couch next to him. “That’s a nice way to put it.”

As the first few songs swim in the air around there’s a light chatter that settles between the two of you. Nothing out of your ordinary conversations, mainly consisting of you gushing over John Taylor as Harry rolls his eyes and sips on his drink to mask the drop of jealousy that grows on his chest -- “He’s not that good looking, you lot should have better standards” he said with a huff, making you giggle at his antics and pinch his cheeks. But it doesn’t take long, barely going halfway through the record, until the two of you begin to feel more lightheaded, eyes glossy and tongues getting looser. You should’ve expected that from the very first sip of the drink in your hand, knowing it wouldn’t take much more than a glass of it to get you right boozed up. And it doesn’t help that which each sip of it the sweetness of the pineapple takes over the strong taste of the alcohol, and in a matter of a few songs, you already feel your mind soaring away.

Harry is not much different, you realize, becoming quite a bit of a giggly drunk as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes and slurred words coming out of his mouth (which only makes him laugh more at himself). From what he told you, it hasn’t been the first time he and Mitch attempted on making the drink themselves. They tried it at a cramped bar right outside a Tears For Fears concert and it had gotten them so knackered so quickly they went back the next day to ask the barman (who also happened to be the owner) what was it in. Turns out it was just watermelon and vodka, but the man also explained that the technique he used that took about two weeks for the drink to be ready. From the man’s explanation, it seemed simple enough so they decided to try it for themselves, except they replaced the watermelon with pineapple.

“Just to add a bit of fun to it.” He shimmies his body.

“Is it like the original, though?” 

“‘S close, but not quite his.” He hiccups. “I’m convinced he left out some of the details, the bastard, didn’t want to go around giving out the secret formula of it.”

You giggle, biting into the brim of your glass. “I’m curious to try it with watermelon, now that you’ve mentioned.”

“You have to, bunny!” His head falls back on the couch, dimples so deep you want to bite into them, his hand strokes lazily on your thigh, every now and then moving up to rub at the hem of your playsuit. “I’ll take you there sometime, we can get baked and crash into a concert at the music house that’s right in front of it.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

When the blue of the sky outside begins to fade into a golden glow, ribbons of pink and orange cutting through it, you’re already completely far gone. The record player is now only letting out a faint buzz from the lack of sound now that the LP is over. Your head is filled with clouds and you don’t register when Harry reaches back for the guitar, only really registering it once he’s stringing out a familiar melody. He stumbles with the lyrics but as soon as you recognize the beginning line of </i> Big Yellow Taxi you’re joining him, your voices tangling in a high pitch as you more of scream the lines than really bother to sing it. Harry gets completely lost in it, and you let him take over every so often just to watch him, mimicking Joni Mitchell's voice and even enacting her laugh, which makes you laugh until your belly hurts and your cheeks get flushed.

It’s one of those moments you want to get locked in, to live in it forever. Watching him stumbling the lyrics of different songs, the words tumbling out of his mouth between giggles, fingers stroking the cord of the guitar maybe a bit too harshly as you join him without a care in the world to who may be bothered by it. You feel so free with him, it’s a feeling that takes over your whole body, a warmth of knowing you don’t have to filter yourself or fit any type of expectation. And as he ends another cover with violent strokes on the guitar you laugh along with him for a moment before letting the room quiet down. Crossing your arms over the back of the couch and resting your cheek against it, you just look at him.

His bloodshot green meets yours, his chest rising as he catches his breath from the frantic songs, teeth sinking on his bottom lip as he smiles at you. “Gonna slow down a bit fo’ you.”

You raise your brows at him, smiling in anticipation as he begins to smooth his fingers through the cords much more gently than he had been previously. His head moves along to the beat as he gazes down at the instrument, a slight crease forming between his eyebrows in concentration. It’s a complete contrast from the playful demeanor that had taken over the room just minutes ago.

“Love of my life, you’ve hurt me.” He begins, and your ears instantly perk up as you identify the same song you’d heard him play months ago at the pub, the one that made you enter it to watch him for the first time. “You’ve broken my heart and now you leave me.”

It’s much different now, however, not just from the fact that he’s singing it on his own without the band backing him up. But it’s the meaning behind it, the rawness of his voice, low and slightly raspy, the words still come out a bit mumbled but you couldn’t care less about it, only focusing on the emotion he puts to them. 

“Love of my life, can’t you see?” His eyes are still set on the guitar and you search for them almost desperately, shifting closer to him and cupping his cheek, guiding him to meet your gaze. “Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.”

The swell in your heart is overwhelming to an extent, his glossy eyes looking into your with such sincerity it makes you want to jump on him, but you hold back as he keeps going, feeling nearly hypnotized by his voice.

“Because you don’t know, what it means to me.” He leans into your touch, turning to press a quick kiss on your palm as he keeps stroking the chords in a quiet melody. “Love of my life, don’t leave me.”

You can’t help but shake your head slightly as he sings the lyric almost like a plea. “You’ve stolen my love, and now desert me.” He looks back down at the guitar, letting your hand fall to his shoulder. “Love of my life, can’t you see?”

“Bring it back, bring it back, don’t take it away from me.” Peeking under his lashes, he grins up at you, and you can only imagine how you must look to him. Mouth slightly agape, barely blinking as you’re scared if you do this will all turn out to be nothing but a dream. His voice comes out next a bit lower, stretching out the words, “Because you don’t knoow.”

He strokes the chords a bit mindlessly now, playing with the sound of the melody, and he does it so effortlessly you almost hold your breath as not to miss it. “What it means to me.”

When he stops, you don’t really think before latching yourself on him, throwing one leg on each side of his thighs, and cupping his face before meeting his mouth with yours. He immediately wraps an arm around your back, his other hand taking the guitar off his lap and blindly placing it against the wall next to the couch. Once the instrument is no longer a barrier, he places his hands on your hips, pulling you closer. You can taste the memory of a pineapple still lingering on his tongue as you lick into his mouth. The kiss is hungry, maybe a bit sloppy thanks to the substance still very much present in your bloodstreams, but you don’t mind, only moving a hand to tangle on his hair, scratching at his scalp before pulling at his roots. 

A whimper escapes from his mouth, getting lost inside your throat, his grip on your thighs tightens, nails digging in it and you know will leave crescent shapes on your skin. It only makes you do it again, this time his head tilting backward with a small groan, disconnecting your lips, but you’re soon to connect it again, splattering kisses along his jawline until it meets his neck. When you suck on his pulse point, running your tongue over it, his skin vibrates on your lips as he lets out a whine. His hands are now running all over your thighs before resting on top of your ass, bringing your hips to grind against his.

Even with your hazed mind, it’s still hard to miss the very prominent bulge under his jeans. It makes you pull back, looking down to see it straining against his zipper. There’s a flip of a switch inside of you when you realize how much he’s yearning for it, it’s the desire you’ve been pushing back for months now, crashing into you like a wave and you can barely contain a small mewl at the sight.

“Bunny.” He breathes out. When you look back to him, you notice his eyes have darkened considerably. “We don’t have to--”

“Please.” You let your forehead fall against his, rolling your hips again, stealing another whimper from him. “If you want to, I want to.”

“I do -- fuck, I do.” He nods as you keep grinding on him, his hand disappearing on your back pocket, trying to get as closer to you as possible.

When you meet his lips again, the kiss is somehow eager than before. The longing is evident as you grab onto each other. Your hands travel down his chest, nails digging softly on his exposed skin, and once you feel the fabric of his shirt, you’re quickly to undo the rest of the buttons, not disconnecting from him as you do so. Smoothing your hands back up to his shoulders, you help him shrug off the material, letting it fall to the couch without paying mind to it.

“Wait,” he sneaks between kisses, hands coming up to your waist you push you off gently.

You watch with your brows narrowed as he gets up from the couch, walking to his shelf and standing in front of it, looking for something. Leaning to your side, you let yourself admire the muscles of his back as his fingers run through the edges of the records. It’s impressive how even though his collection takes over the whole furniture, he still seems to know exactly where to look for it, focusing on a small section right at the top. He quickly finds what he’s looking for, pulling it with a ‘Aha!’ before turning back to you. 

He holds up a very familiar black cover, the imprint of Queen’s Greatest Hits instantly calling your attention. Doing the same as you’d done earlier, he takes out the disk, placing it on the player before adjusting the needle over it. You watch it with a smile teasing on your lips, finding oddly endearing how he made you pull away from him with the sole purpose of putting on a soundtrack -- making notice to put on something you’d like, as well. He cranks up the volume as the first words of Bohemian Rhapsody start to swallow your thoughts, turning back to you and offering his hand with a cheeky grin painted on his face.

Taking his hold, you let him pull you up from the couch and, before you can really register it, he’s guiding you through the hallway. You stumble on your footing as he rushes a bit to fast for you to really wrap your head around it, the walls of the corridor passing by almost in a blur as it takes your mind a beat too long to catch up with your eyes. Still, your giggles dance along with his all the way to his door at the end of it, making you feel like a couple of teens sneaking out for the first time.

He doesn’t give you a single minute to take notice of his room -- not that you would at this moment, your arousal pooling at your underwear only enhancing the haziness of your mind. In just a speck of a second, he’s already pushing the door closed, your body being pressed against it not long after. His arms find their place on each side of your head, his lips searching hungrily for yours as your fingers find their home between the strands of his hair once more. 

“Shit, need you so bad, baby.” he presses his hips against yours, mouth hot as he sucks in the skin of your jaw, all the way down your neck, finding a spot that makes you whine under his touch. “That’s it, darling, let me hear you again.”

“Harry,” you mewl as his teeth sink on your skin gently, his tongue swiping quickly over the spot before he trails back to your cheek. You melt under his touch when his hands find their way back on your body, one of them caressing the side of your breast softly, thumb poking out to rub the spot where you nipple pebbles under your layers of clothing. This brings out a desperate whimper from your throat, your head falling back on the door as you close your eyes, trying to savor every slight touch of his. “Please.”

“Look so fucking pretty in this piece, bunny.” The sound of his voice is right below your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin making the hairs on your neck rise. “Look gorgeous in anythin”” he turns his head to bite at your earlobe. “But I really need it gone right now.”

Your eyes snapback open when you feel him pull back from you, his hands finding the front buttons of your playsuit, fiddling them open so easily you barely register it. His lips are back on yours, this time slower, letting his desire be known at every brush of his tongue. Smoothing his hands on your shoulders, he helps you out of the sleeves of the top. As soon as your back is disconnected from the wooden door, you start moving forward before you can really think about it, pushing him back gently until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s sitting back on the bed.

There’s hardly a speck of green left on his darkened irises when he looks up at you, watching your every move as you shift the material down your body, letting it pool on your feet before you kick it to the side. Taking a slow step towards him, his hands holding onto your hips almost unconsciously, you reach back to find the hook of your bra, but he stops you before you can even quite grasp it. “Wait,” he pulls you closer, making you fall a bit awkwardly on his lap, your hands moving to grip on his shoulder for support. “Let me.”

You adjust your position on top of him, your knees resting next to his thighs, as he handily unhooks your bra, removing it quickly from your arms and tossing it to the side. A gasp escapes your mouth as he wastes no time before attaching his mouth to your breast, tongue circling on your nipple before sucking in. His hand tries to give the same attention to the other one, grasping onto it as his thumb caresses the pebbled nub.

The crescendo of the song comes muffled in the background and it’s as if it’s echoing inside your head while you mindlessly roll your hips against his. The motion makes the lining of his zipper rub deliciously against your clit under the thin fabric of your underwear, and it reminds you of his hardening length pressing on his jeans. It seems to remind him as well, as his mouth parts from your chest in a groan, his lips licking at the space between your breast, kissing all the way back to your neck, where he hides his face with a strangled moan when you grind down a bit harder.

“Can’t take the tease, baby.” He pants. “Need you right fucking now.”

You pull back from him, gazing down at the tent on his pants and bringing your hands to fiddle with his belt. It takes you a bit longer to manage to pull it out, as his eager lips attack your neck once again. At this point, you can only imagine the marks he’s made on your skin, knowing the reddened spots will soon come to a purple shade, but it’s the least of your worries as you pop the button of his jeans, opening up the zipper. 

“Stand up just for a sec, darling.” He taps on your hip and you do as he asks, stepping back to plant your feet on the floor.

He shifts out of his pants, bringing his briefs along with it and you watch the way his cock all but jumps out of its restrains, slapping back on his stomach. The tip is a reddened shade darker, a trace of precum already oozing out of it, dripping down his length and making you rub your thighs for some sort of relief as you feel your mouth watering. You want to reach for it, grasp it as you feel it throb on your palm. You want to trace the prominent veins adorning it with your tongue and discover all the sounds he makes when he’s all but begging for you to wrap you mouth around it already. But more than anything, and what speaks louder to you at the moment, is how you want to feel it deep in your belly, rubbing against your walls until your legs shake.

“My eyes are up here, love.” You look up at him, a smug grin on his face as he draws you in by your hips.

“Can’t help it.” You watch his fingers play with the waistband of your cherry colored underwear, meeting his eyes as you let yourself mess with him a bit. “Just have such a beautiful cock.”

“Christ.” He groans, yanking your panties down your leg, making your arousal drip down your thighs. His lips immediately trace on your pubic bone, hands travelling to grip on your ass as his teeth sink into your skin slowly. “Didn’t know you were this filthy, bunny.”

You enlace your fingers on his strands, pushing his fringe away from his forehead as you mount him again. “Only for you.”

“All for me? What did I do to deserve you?” He smiles, pecking your lips and pulling your closer so you can feel his cock poking at your stomach. “Why don’t you lie down for me?”

You shake your head, pushing his shoulders back gently until his back hits the mattress. “You lie down.”

“Shit, baby, gonna sit on my cock?” He shifts back just slightly, watching you sit back on his thigh as you grab his length, giving it an experimental pump that makes his breath audibly hitch. “Fuck-- such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

You chew on your bottom lip, flickering your palm over the tip and collecting a bit of the precum before rubbing it once more. He lets out a strangled moan, head tilting back on the mattress, his curls splattered around him like a halo. Which is an ironical contrast to what you’re doing to him. 

His voice comes out in a breathy, chest moving frantically as he peeks down at you when you give him another slow pump. “Please, darling, don’t torture me right now, need you so bad.”

If it were another occasion you wouldn’t listen to him, simply continuing your teasing as if he hadn’t said anything at all. But right now you can feel your wetness pooling where you sit on his thigh as you all but throb for him at the sight of his angry cock in your hand. It’s just as much torture to you as it is to him to keep this going any longer, so you just shift up, gabbing his base and rubbing it along your folds one, two, three times, before finally aligning it with your entrance.

His nails dig on your thighs in anticipation, his eyes watching with barely a blink as you slowly sink down. Your mouth hangs open but nothing except a choked gasp comes out of it. There’s a delicious burn that comes with him slowly spreading you open for him, and when you fully sit down your eyes are teary and can’t help but clench around him, earning a full moan in response.

“So fucking tight.” He pants, chest moving up as he takes a sharp inhale when you clench again. “So wet too, baby, drenching me.”

“Fuck, Harry.” You lean forward, hands lying on each side of his torso as you pull up the tiniest bit just to sink down again.

You want to start slow, gradually fastening your pace but you can’t seem to hold yourself back. As his hands grasp on your hips you start to bounce on him at a hard pace, your moans meshing together as well as the faint vocals blasting outside the closed door. Rolling your hips on his, he hits spot that makes you sit on your heels again as you throw your head back, crying out his name. 

It’s hard to keep focus as you mind is blurry from the pleasure that takes over every cell of your body as well as the alcohol still running freely on your bloodstream. All you can focus on right now is Harry. It’s his hands gripping on your skin, helping you fasten your pace. It’s the sound of his voice pitching on a needy whimper, telling you how good you feel around him. It’s the sight of his face creased in pleasure when you look down at him, the veins staining his neck and his locks sticking to his damp forehead, cheeks rosy and lips plump. He’s the only thing in your mind as you chant his name under your breath like a quiet prayer.

“Is my cock that good, bunny?” He meets your thrusts with his hips, making you sob out a moan. His lips tug on a smirk, “Look at you helping you helping yourself out on my cock -- fuck, look like a proper dream.”

There’s a familiar tightness in your stomach, one that makes your toes curl and your rhythm falters. “I’m almost there, shit.”

“Won’t last much longer too, baby, feel too good.” He groans holding your hips in place when you stumble on your pace again, deciding to thrust upwards, your pelvis meeting in loud smacks. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me see you looking all pretty when you cum all over my cock?”

“Harry, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, your eyes closing as you roll back your head. A trifling cramp is starting to set on the back of your thighs but you barely pay any mind to it as the bliss takes over your whole body. You’re so close to your high you can almost reach it, just needing a small push.

“C’mon, baby.” Harry urges you, hand reaching where you’re connected to rub at your clit harshly.

And that’s all you needed, opening your eyes as a couple tears fall down your face when you feel your orgasm taking over you body, the white ceiling feeling far away like an imagine you watch on the television. You’re not exactly sure when Killer Queen started playing, but as the waves of euphoria hit your body, you can hear the guitar solo ringing in your ears, the crescendo of the song only enhancing the thrill of your high as you ride your orgasm along with it.

You practically collapse  down on his chest, his hot skin sticking to your body. He’s still panting under you, warm breath hitting your neck as he holds onto your ass, his thrusts coming sloppier as he comes right after you. The sensitivity of your center makes you whine along with his strangled moans when he holds his hips to yours,burying himself in you as he paints your walls white.

For a moment you just stay like this, cheek resting on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat slowing down by the minute blending with the music coming from outside the closed door. His fingertips trace patterns on your bare arm that’s hugging his torso and keeping him close. You can feel your mind getting clearer, not just from the alcohol but from the high of your orgasm. And as the sound of the soft wind knocks against the window glass, you’re almost lulled to sleep just like this. 

Harry shifts slightly, you feel his lips pressing on your head before he carefully moves to sit up, letting you fall back on the bed gently. “Mind if I have a smoke, bunny?”

You give him a lazy smile, shaking your head as you look up at him, reaching for his locks that poke wildly on his head. Leaning down, he gives you a quick peck before getting up. Turning to your side, you watch as he looks around the room, finding his briefs thrown by the end of the bed and quickly putting them back on. He grabs the pack of cigarettes along with his lighter and heads towards the window.

Opening up the window, allowing the evening breeze to slip through the crack and dance around the room, he pulls a chair leaning on the wall to sit directly by it. The chair is stacked with colored cushions on top of it - one yellow, one red, and one blue - he throws two of them thoughtlessly on the floor next to it, adjusting the remaining one on his back as he leans down to sit on it. The stool is low enough so he can relax his feet on it comfortably, fingers fiddling with the lighter for a second before rising it to meet the end of the cigarette resting between his lips. Freddie Mercury still sings loudly in the living room, the sound coming a bit muffled thanks to the closed door, but making it as background noise as you come quiet to admire his figure against the last creeks of sunlight hitting the side of his profile.

You chew on your lip at the scene, wishing you could record it somehow and play it every night before falling asleep. There’s something inherently erotic about having him smoke a cigar just on his underwear, humming along to the tune of the song, right after having you scream his name into his pillow. 

The light streak of wind coming from the window breaks you out of your thoughts, making goosebumps rise on your skin as you come to the realization that you’re still sitting naked in his bed. It doesn’t take long for you to find your panties hanging from the edge of the mattress, picking them up to quickly slide them up your legs before you get up to search for your other articles of clothing. You can see the colorful pattern of your playsuit lying next to the closed door, but as you crouch to pick it up something else catches your attention in the pile of clothes thrown around mindlessly on top of a wooden chest

It’s the pink shirt. The same one he wore on the day you first saw him play.

A grin takes over your face as you pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders and sliding your hand on the sleeves. It has the faint scent of his cologne mixed with the lingering smell of cigarettes, something you’ve come to associate with him. You don’t bother to button up the material, letting it hug your body as you take a quick look at yourself in the full-body mirror leaning on the wall in front of you. You turn to him, his eyes still focused on the view outside, a thin coat of smoke leaving his lips and getting lost in the breeze, so you clear your throat as to get his attention.

He looks at you, eyes shamelessly scanning down your body and you’re afraid the cig will fall from his lips as they grow on a smug smirk. 

“Look at you,” he lets his feet fall from the stool, fixing them on the floor as he motions for you to get close. You approach him without a second thought, climbing on his lap as his hands hold onto your hips. He takes another look at you, grasping the cigarette with his fingers and taking out of his lips. Reaching for your face, his thumb caresses the side of your eyelid gently. “Looking like a proper rockstar now, even got the smudged makeup.”

You giggle. “That’s more your fault than mine.”

“I guess it is.” He taps the butt of the cig on an ashtray prompted on the stool of the window, eyes still trained on you. “Should do it more often then, s’fucking hot.”

You smile at the connotation, picking at the hem of the shirt and gazing at him from under your lashes. “Guess I might be starting to like pink, that’s also your fault.”

“Look way too good in pink not to like it, bunny.”

“Stop that.” You hide your face on the crook of his shoulder.

“Telling the truth.” His free hand grips on your waist, pulling you closer as he tilts his head to kiss at your neck. “Looks good in everything.”

“Could tell you the same thing.” You pull back to look at him, teeth sinking on your bottom lip as you smooth your hands down his bare chest.  “But I do prefer this fit on you, really brings out your eyes.”

“Naughty.”

You lean to connect your lips, hugging him close with your arms wrapped around his neck and enjoying the tender moment as you distribute kisses around his face just to hear him giggle. And when you bring your mouth to his again, you barely feel the softness of his lips before he all but jumps on his skin. You pull back, furrowing your brows, ready to question it but he beats you. “Forgot I got something for you.”

“For me?” You blink. “What is it?”

“Go sit on the bed while I fetch, will be just a minute.” He gives you a quick peck before you’re pulling away.

You do as he asks, sitting back on the bed, right next to the wrinkled spot where you lied just  minutes ago. He walks across the room, opening the door where you came from and disappearing in the hallway. The record is still blasting through the apartment walls, sound coming louder now that there’s no barrier between you.

While he’s gone, you take a moment to look around his room, something you didn’t get a chance to do when you first came in tangled on his arms. It’s not much messier than the living room, really, only the small piles of clothes you’ve spotted earlier that give the illusion of an untidy room. There’s a light wooden dresser that sits next to the chest, and from where you sit you can see two candles standing alone on top of it, similar to the ones on the piano. 

You swing your feet on the edge of the bed, letting them brush along a blue fluffy mat that hugs the floor underneath it. And as you run your hands on along his mattress, you notice the soft superficie, making you look down at a knitted blanket spreaded across the bed. It’s made of different colored squared stuck together in an oddly comforting pattern. You want to lie down on it, and let yourself be swallowed by the cozyness of the material against your skin, but before you can do so, Harry appears back in the room, closing the door behind him as he makes his way to you.

“This blanket is so nice.” You run your hands through it, smiling at him.

“Thanks, I knitted it.” The information makes your eyes bulge out, you open your mouth to inquire further but he’s already talking again. “This is-- uhm, I dunno, just something I thought you’d like it.”

The small box in his hand catches your attention as he hands it to you, his eyes looking down at it and even with just the moonlight illuminating the room you can see the blush on his cheeks. He props himself down on the spot next to you, watching your fingers turn the rectangular box around. It’s a cassette tape case, you quickly realize.

When you gaze at the back of it, there’s names of songs scribbled behind it. Not many, but a good collection of them, from Fleetwood Mac to The Bangles, and even Billy Joel. And it doesn’t take you long to find a pattern with the song chosen for the tape. Their all love songs. It makes your heart swell even more, if that’s even possible at this point.

“These are so cheesy,” you bite your lip, barely able to contain your smile.

He rolls his eyes. “They’re romantic, bunny.”

You keep examining the titles written neatly in his handwriting, raising your brows when you land on a specific one. “Every breath you take?” You tease, “That’s an interesting take on romance.”

“Shut up.” He giggles, eyes watching you carefully. “Do you like it?” His voice is adorably hesitant, it makes your heart stumble on a beat.

“I love it.” You say in just above a whisper, feeling the butterflies in your stomach get a little more vivid once your eyes land on the last song scribbled in the back of the tape. Somebody to Love. Brushing your thumb over the words softly, careful not to smudge the paint, you look up at him to find his green irises glistening at you. You shake your head almost in disbelief at the tenderness behind the gift. “Did you record this just for me?”

“Uhm yeah some of them I did but—” He looks down, focusing on his fingers as they pick a loose string from the blanket under his leg. “Some of them I just... Sang”

“You sang?” It takes you by surprise, how you thought there was no way he could make you feel warmer.

“Yeah… All of them, actually.” His dimples dig deep on his cheeks as he quickly peeks his eyes at you. “It’s just… The quality is shit when you record it from the radio and the dj keeps interrupting and stuff.” He shrugs, “Thought if I sang it could be more, personal? I guess.”

“I love it.” You repeat.

“You do?” 

“I do.” You chew on your lip, watching his eyes glimmering on the dim light of the room. “Is there a reason for this sudden present?”

“Kind of I--” He clears his throat, fully glancing at you. There’s an expectation behind his eyes, you can tell from the way he takes a sharp inhale that he’s nervous. “Thought I make you-- ask you, actually, if you’d be mine?”

You can’t help but giggle at how adorable he looks, your eyes getting a bit glossy as you nod without a blink of a thought. “Of course I’m yours, Harry.”

“Yeah?” His smile grows. “As like, m’girlfriend?”

Throwing your arms around him, you press your lips against his cheek, careful not to drop the tape in your hand still. You pull back, tilting your head as giving him a fond smile. “As in your girlfriend, yes.”

[moonbeamoclock]

jet black (modern!mikasa ackerman x fem! reader)

a/n: goth mikasa lives in my head rent free. 

trigger warnings: none, just pining 

word count: 1.4k

Y/n and Mikasa had become fast friends their first semester of college despite the two of them being complete opposites. Mikasa was goth, wearing all black with occasional splashes of other dark colors; while y/n bounced around campus like a ball of sunshine opting for pastels and cutesy accessories. They spent so much time together that their styles had begun to slowly melt into each other adding splashes of each other’s aesthetics to their wardrobes. 

It’s been a few months since the last time Mikasa dyed her hair it’s jet-black color, and her barely different natural black hair was starting to show through.

They were walking back from the dining hall after lunch one afternoon and Mikasa was huffing yet again about she wishes she could get her hair dyed. 

“I just don’t have any money, it sucks. At this point, I’m thinking about just saying ‘fuck it’ and spending the money because I can’t take much more of people seeing my natural hair.”

Y/n rolled her eyes at her best friend being so dramatic and said, “Your natural hair color isn’t even that different than what you dye it, Mika, I don’t know why you’re freaking out about it.”

Mikasa felt her face go hot at the nickname and she tried to force down the butterflies swarming in her stomach. 

“Yeah, but still,” she mumbled.

Y/n gasped and gave Mikasa’s shoulder a light shove “Why don’t you just use a box dye? I could do it for you!” she exclaimed excitedly. 

The idea of Y/n being so close to her and touching her hair had her turning a blushing mess all over again. 

She cleared her throat and pushed the words out of her mouth to hide her embarrassment. “I guess we could do that. We’ll have to go to the store then.”

“Let’s go now! You don’t have any afternoon classes, right? We’ll go to the store and come back dye it!” Y/n said eagerly. “C’mon let’s drop off our stuff in the dorms and then we can go!” 

*timeskip: they go to the store to get the hair dye and come back to the dorms*

“Okay, so we should both change into some clothes we don’t care about then we’ll meet in the laundry room because we won’t get in trouble for ruining the sink down there.” y/n laughed walking down the hall to her room. Mikasa nodded and stopped at her own room, unlocking the door. 

Once inside, Mikasa let out a nervous exhale. She couldn’t help but feel anxious about having to go downstairs and share such and commit such an intimate act with the person she was crushing on. She knew deep down that it was a horrible idea to develop feelings for her best friend like this especially since she was the only other person besides Eren and Armin who understood her. Just the thought of losing y/n as a friend caused her throat to grow tighter. She took a calming breath and quickly put on her ratty clothes and headed down to the basement. 

Down the y/n was already setting up everything they’d need to do Mikasa’s hair. She stood in the basement in an oversized t-shirt and cozy sweatpants, hands covered in cheap plastic gloves shaking the bottle with the solution inside back and forth. Patiently waiting for Mikasa to join her. She let a smile crawl across her face as she thought about the grey-eyed girl. The two of them were polar opposites in every sense of the word, but they complimented each other so well. Y/n found herself constantly wanting to be in her calming presence. 

“Hey” Mikasa’s quiet voice came from the doorway of the laundry room breaking y/n out of her little daydream. 

“Hey, all set?” she replied. 

Mikasa nodded as she sat down in the chair in front of y/n nervously playing with the skin on her fingers. 

Y/n took the container of vaseline they had purchased at the store and gathered some of the on her gloved finger. She gently applied some to Mikasa’s hairline and ears before rising off the dirty glove quickly and moving on to the small squeeze bottle filled with dye. 

She ran a hand through Mikasa’s hair along her scalp whispering “I’m gonna start, okay?”  

The soft words combined with the feeling of y/n hand on her scalp had Mikasa’s eyes fluttering close and a sigh leaving her lips. 

They sat in comfortable silence as Y/n worked on her hair, making quick work of covering every strand with the jet black liquid. 

Finally finished, she set the now empty bottle on one of the many washing machines and moved to stand in front of Mikasa. Opening her eyes she took a sharp breath in at how close y/n had gotten to her face. With eyes filled with admiration, she watched as she meticulously made sure that each and every hair at the root of her head was covered in dye. A quick glance down at Mikasa’s obvious heart eyes sent y/n’s cheeks aflame. Biting her lip she shyly moved away from her.

“S-so the box says to wait 30 minutes before we wash it out.” y/n stuttered.

“O-okay,” she replied. 

*another time skip so we all don’t have to sit through any awkward dialogue*

The timer went off startling both of you out of your quite giggling.

Y/n squealed, jumping down from her spot on one of the dryers “Now we have to wash it! Come over here.. and bring the chair please.”  

Now sitting in front of the sink with her head tipped back, and y/n bent somewhat awkwardly over her body to reach her hair;  Mikasa started to get that nervous feeling all over again. Y/n turned on the tap angling the faucet away from her head until the water warmed up. Mikasa let out a deep breath and closed her eyes as the warm water hit her skin followed by y/n’s hands slowly massaging the dye out. 

“Your hands are gonna be black, you forgot the gloves,” Mikasa mumbled quietly

“It’s okay” y/n responded just as soft  “I don’t mind.”

At that Mikasa risked opening her eyes to peak at the girl washing her hair. She was met with a view that should have been considered unflattering but to her, looked like heaven. Y/n’s face was mere inches from her’s, so close in fact that she could feel each puff of air fan across her face. She so desperately wanted to grab ahold of the girl above her and smash their lips together but balled up her fists instead to keep herself from reaching out.  

Y/n glanced down, locking eyes with Mikasa who let out a pained whimper. She took a moment to take in the sight before her. Mikasa’s face was so warm that she could feel it just by being so close, her breaths were coming out in short puffs, and her eyes were frantically flicking between y/n eyes and her lips.  Finally caving in Mikasa drew in a breath before leaning forward to capture her lips in a searing kiss.

Frozen for a few moments, y/n was knocked out of her daze by the feeling of Mikasa’s hand on the side of her face. She closed her eyes and angled her head to deepen the kiss even further, tightening the grip she had on her wet hair ever so slightly. The burning in both of their chest had them pulling away from each other out of breath only for Mikasa to place a few small quick kisses on y/n’s retreating lips, pulling a laugh from the girl. 

“Um, as much as I would love to keep kissing you right now, you’re hair isn’t quite done yet.”

“Oh, yeah...sorry you can…” she trailed off and leaned her head back into the sink so she could finish. 

As she scrubbed, both girls were quiet until Mikasa spoke up again, “Just so you know…..I really like you. A lot…like.....more than a best friend.”

A grin broke out across her face, ceasing her ministrations in her hair “Hmmm, that’s good because I really like you too.” she bent down and gave her a peck on the nose. “Now stop distracting me I’m trying to finish!”                                                                                 

[a-dorin]

tempestuous | darth maul

word count: 5.043k 

warnings: nsfw, 18+, professor/student relationship, sexual tension, smut,  nudity, sexual innuendos, dominance kink, age gap, cursing 

a/n: hello everyone! due to the response i received, this is the second chapter in the professor!maul au! i am so happy with the overwhelming comments of kindness. you guys rock :’) thank you for keeping me sane during quarantine. as always, the first chapter is linked below. enjoy :)) 

ardor

summary: weeks have flown by, and you find yourself under immense amounts of pressures with midterm quickly approaching. not only are you stressed with the academics, but you can’t seem to shake a certain professor out of your head.

“(y/n), did you have rough night?” barriss chuckled, handing ahsoka an iced coffee before sliding into her own spot, “here, i got you a little pick-me-up.” 

wrapping your hand around the cup, you swirled your straw around, “thank you, barriss. i guess i’m just a little stressed out with midterms approaching.”

“a little?” ahsoka giggled, covering her mouth, “(y/n), we love you, but you look like you’ve been hit by a truck. is everything okay?”

you rubbed your temple, a dull aching seeping into your skull, “i’ve been pulling some all nighters lately.”

“well if you ever want to study for with us, you’re always welcome,” barriss’ blue depths shone, her lips curved into an encouraging smile, “ahsoka and i are a little nervous about the midterm as well, especially for this class. professor maul hasn’t given us any sort of notion on what the exam may be.”

“i hope it’s something simple,” you grumbled, taking a sip of the matcha latte, “again, thank you for the matcha, barriss. i appreciate it.”

barriss laid a gentle hand on your shoulder, “anything for you, (y/n). after all, you’re our new best friend.”

“she’s very right,” ahsoka shot you a wink, prodding you with her elbow, “you should come to the library with us tomorrow night! i know, it’s lame, but it’s pretty empty on the weekend. we have a good chance at snagging one of those study rooms. and if we get our homework done friday, we can always meet up before that party saturday night!” 

“you guys party?” you arched a curious brow. 

barriss and ahsoka rolled their eyes simultaneously, the togruta letting out a huff, “we know how to have fun too, (y/n). after all, they say that the bookworms know how to let loose.”

“whatever,” you couldn’t help but laugh, pulling out your laptop. 

it was now about halfway through the semester, with midterms approaching on the horizon. the looming fact that you had about five exams, along with working extra hours with your internship, were beginning to take their toll on you. the internship at the hospital was running smoothly, and you were performing so well that you were offered extra hours. of course, you couldn’t help but accept the offer. 

yet, it came with a cost. although it was only two nights a week, they asked if you could stay a few hours later than normal. so, every tuesday and wednesday, you strolled into your apartment well past one in the morning. 

rex helped in every way he possibly could. whether it was cooking you dinner, making you coffee, tending to your laundry, as well as keeping the apartment tidy, he was adamant about making things easier for you. which, you greatly appreciated. there were even times he charged your laptop and made runs to the printer. last night was one of those nights where you didn’t get back till late, so to say you were exhausted was an understatement. 

although it was your first class of the day, and 9:56 a.m., sleep still hung heavy in your mind. the comfy clothes hanging on your frame weren’t much help either, the coziness of the fabric lulling you to sleep. a university of coruscant hoodie, a few sizes too big, was almost like a blanket. and the grey sweats were comforting. shaking your head, you attempted to focus. 

the class fell silent as he entered the room, causing you to perk up in your seat. today, he was clad in a pair of black slacks, the color of his button up and blazer corresponding with his pants. his shoes were freshly polished, glossy in the sterile light. the monochromatic outfit brought out the color of his crimson skin, his amber orbs nearly glowing. as usual, the silver chain hung from his neck, this time, settled on bare skin, as a button or two was left undone. 

you nearly choked on your matcha, as you drank in the sight of him. maker, was he gorgeous. mind buzzing, you mustered all of your strength to not admire for a moment too long. it was already embarrassing enough the sheer amount of instances you saw him on campus. 

now that you were enrolled in his class, you saw him everywhere. whether it was grabbing a meal to-go in the dining hall, bumping into him at the gym, or mumbling a greeting as you passed him in the halls of the psychology wing. it was odd, yet you paid no mind. a part of you yearned to see him, to just admire his features. 

professor maul didn’t seem to mind the encounters either. every time, he would chirp a greeting, his tone smooth and cordial. even though he was formal, you couldn’t help but notice a gleam in the golden pools as he spoke. it was almost as if his eyes were roaming your body, glittering with lust. 

just the mere thought of his lips on yours sent a faint blush painted across your cheeks. shifting in your seat, the realization that class began washed over you. letting out a quiet sigh, you typed notes as he spoke, his voice clear, thick with authority as it rang through the lecture hall. 

“now,” he cleared his throat, backtracking to the pedestal to the left of the space, “i compiled a list of terms and parameters of your midterm exam.”

groans of frustration erupted like a volcano, maul’s eyes blazing with amusement, “may i discuss the exam with you first or are you all going to complain?”

“i hate him,” ahsoka muttered under her breath. 

“you don’t mean that,” you whispered, teasing, “what if the exam is a breeze?”

“the midterm will be no walk in the park,” maul announced, gathering a thick stack of papers in his hands.

 your eyes wandered to his hands, and how they sprawled over the stack with ease, how they were would fit so well over your breasts. a shiver ran down your spine as you pondered of his hands all over your body, relishing every inch of your skin. his voice snapped you out of your fantasy, his gaze settling on you, a smirk creeping onto his lips. 

“for the exam, i ask that you research an individual or authoritative figure who is a ‘monster’ in our society. once you conduct your research, you will give me a brief presentation. the presentation will be done orally, through a video format. the deadline is printed on the assignment sheet. there are no exceptions, so plan accordingly.”

biting your lip, your cheeks reddened under the eye contact. however, his attention was taken away from you, eyes flickering towards a student near the top of the lecture hall. 

“does this mean we can talk about president palpatine? he’s a tyrant!” 

“i can’t believe he almost banned the frats!” another complaint rose from a classmate.

“if that’s who you would like to report on,” a bubbly, lighthearted laugh escaped his lips, the sound flowing like sweet honey into your ears, “you might have your work cut out for you. that is my boss after all, so i am not sure how biased i can be.”

the rest of the class droned on, ahsoka and barriss lost in their note-taking, their stares fixed to their laptop screens. meanwhile, you found yourself getting lost, daydreaming. maker, did you ache to experience just one kiss. to trace the tattoos all over his chest and shoulders as you unbuttoned the article of clothing. gnawing on your cheek, shame burned through you as you realized that you were beginning to feel a sensation in your core. the mere thought of maul had your folds slick, wet and desperate for him. 

soon, class was over, students herded to the doors. you followed ahsoka and barriss, conversing about tomorrow’s plans. you were anticipating the study session tomorrow, as you needed it.

after all, you weren’t paying much attention in class these days. 

*******

“so, are we wrapped up for the night?” ahsoka yawned, her eyes bleary with sleep. 

a rumble in the distance shook the library, a thunderstorm wreaking its havoc over coruscant. you, barriss, and ahsoka were finishing up, the building nearing closing time. it was 10:32 p.m., the three of you hunkering down in a study room for the past two and a half hours. however, the session was helpful, the three of you passing notes, sharing what you did and didn’t have. you were all caught up, thanks to them. 

“i believe so,” barriss nodded, shoving a notebook into her bag, “(y/n), would you like us to walk with you to your apartment? we can share an umbrella and give you one.”

“i’ll be fine,” you shrugged, glancing at your phone, “i think i might wait out the storm for a few more minutes. besides, my roommate has a girl over. i don’t want to impose on them.”

“you sure?” concern flashed across ahsoka’s face, “it’s not a problem to us.”

“you guys can go,” you teased, winking, “i can handle myself. besides, there’s no one in here besides the twi’lek at the front desk.”

“whatever you say,” barriss huffed, adjusting her hijab, “see you tomorrow!”

“see ya,” you waved to the two girls as they left the room, “text me when you guys want to meet up!” 

“we will,” ahsoka called, giving you one last grin before they disappeared from your field of vision. 

exhaling, you rose to your feet, slinging your bag over your shoulder. strolling out of the study room, the lights of the library were dimmed, a few students lingering, milling around the front desk or nose deep in textbooks, scrambling to finish their work. 

eventually, you made your way to the lobby, leaning against the brick wall. rex promised that he would text you when his friend was on her way, yet there were no message on your screen. no missed calls. nothing. frustration welled up inside of you, creeping into your thoughts. surely the girl wasn’t staying the night. rex didn’t mention anything about it to you earlier. 

“hey there,” an all too familiar voice rumbled, “do you need a lift?”

turning ever so slightly, your eyes widened at the figure before you. maul stood in the doorway, donned in a pair of grey joggers, a university hoodie on his top half. the hoodie was black, which was a prominent color in the zabrak’s wardrobe. you picked up on that the third day of class. his brows were furrowed, lips pursed. it was almost as if he was concerned. 

“i’m fine,” you muttered, “just waiting on my roommate to give me the all clear.”

“i remember those days,” maul mused, “savage used to have all sorts of women over when we rented an apartment together for grad school. it was downright horrid.”

“i bet,” you sucked in a breath, anxiety swirling as you read the time once more. it was 10:48 now, more and more students filing out of the exit. 

“you all right?” he inquired, his voice low, “if your apartment isn’t too far from here, i can give you a ride. it’s storming pretty bad out there.”

“isn’t that illegal?” you snorted, a glimmer of hope rising as rex’s called id lit up your phone, “hang on, i gotta take this.”

“heyyyy,” immediately, you sensed that rex was walking on eggshells, “do you have a place to stay for the night?”

“rex, i thought we talked about this.”

“well,” he mumbled, “she wants to stay the night. i’ll do all of your laundry tomorrow if you say yes.”

“rex this isn’t the right time to bargain with me,” tears brimmed your eyes as the horror crept in. you had nowhere to go. 

“please?” his voice was sickeningly sweet, “pretty please?”

“fine,” you caved, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“thank you-” rex began, but you hung up before he got the chance to finish. 

storming out of the library, tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing effortlessly with the icy rain as it cascaded down, piercing through your clothes. you sobbed, your cries deafened by the thunder. maker, you were so furious. how could rex do that to you? especially so last minute? the only place you could go was your car, and you didn’t even have a fresh change of clothes. 

“(y/n),” through the roar of the thunder, you heard his voice. 

“oh great!” sobs racked your body, “now i have to deal with you too-”

his hands grasped your cheeks, pulling you in. lips collided with yours, his touch warm, as you crumpled completely. fingers tangled into your wet locks, desperate to bring you closer to him, to feel your lips mold so effortlessly with his. the kiss was fiery, burning with a passion. a desire for you. it was exhilarating, intoxicating, your mind buzzing, losing any sort of coherent thought as the rain pounded against the cement, lightning illuminating your surroundings. 

“now,” he pulled away, leaving you breathless, “do you need a ride?”

“i don’t have anywhere to go,” you could barely string the words together.

“you’re welcome to stay at my place.”

“are you sure?” you wiped your tears, yet the effort was fruitless. your clothes were soaked, you were chilled to the bone.

“yes,” he took your hands, “come on, let’s get out of here.”

“what if someone sees us?” anxiety bubbled within you. 

“my hood is up,” he began to make his way towards the parking lot, clicking a button on his car keys, “besides, i’m wearing black and so are you.”

“i guess you’re right,” you muttered, a shiver rippling through your being.

as he approached the vehicle, he opened the passenger door for you as the rain pattered against the pavement. slipping off his sweatshirt, he shoved it into your hands, “here, put this on.”

“i-i’m not wearing a shirt underneath,” the words were a stutter.

“and i’m not fifteen,” maul scoffed, ducking so that he could slide into the driver’s seat, “you’re going to get sick out here and mine is somewhat dryer than yours.”

hesitantly, you made your way into the passenger seat, your eyes widening as you noticed the interior, “this is a tesla.”

in the darkness, you picked out the brightness of his grin, his incisors flashed, poking against his lips, “indeed. my apartment isn’t too far from here. i need to let savage know that we’re no longer having drunkfest.”

“drunkfest?” you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“drunkfest,” maul affirmed, his thumbs dancing across his phone, “we get absolutely wasted every friday night to forget about the awful moments of the work week.”

“interesting,” you settled into maul’s hoodie, grateful for the slightly drier fabric. his scent flooded your nostrils. it was a strong scent, with traces of leatherwood, spices, and bergamot. it was heavenly, with just the right amount of cologne. 

“it is interesting,” his eyes focused on the road, the lights of the city whirring by as he drove, “even though i’ve gotten completely trashed every single time, i can’t seem to shake you off my mind.”

blush flooded your cheeks, your breath hitching in your throat, “i see.”

within minutes, maul pulled into a parking garage, turning off the engine. he helped out of the passenger seat, “let me carry your bookbag for you. the textbooks probably need to sit out for a few hours. i’m sure you don’t want to pay for new ones.”

“i don’t,” you sucked in a breath. 

the zabrak slung your bag over his shoulder with ease, locking the car behind you. the two of you entered the elevator on the level, and maul pushed his desired designation. a wave of silence crashed over you, but it wasn’t unnerving. it was more relaxed, maul humming a tune as the elevator whirred. 

eventually, you were standing outside his door, the zabrak shoving the key into the lock. pushing the door open, you couldn’t help but marvel at the decor, furniture, as well as the viewports. the apartment was luxurious, screaming wealth. yet, maul remained humble, not uttering a single word. 

the floor was a flint concrete, glossed over with a polish. in the den, there was a massive patterned rug, intricate patterns of black, white, and crimson woven together. the couch was a sectional, a dark grey. the shelving and tables were black, paired with subtle hints of scarlet or grey decor. there wasn’t much wall decor, besides some vintage posters from the old days of coruscant. framed photos of zabraki were scattered, and you inferred that they were feral and savage, maul’s younger brothers. 

“there’s a hall leading to the refresher. it’s on your right, i’m going to set out your books to dry. before you shower, leave your clothes in a pile by the door. i’ll throw them in the wash for you. and if i pop in, don’t scream. i’m going to lend you some of my clothes,” the zabrak murmured, “take your time in the shower. i don’t want you getting sick.”

“what if i need help getting the right water temperature?” you arched a brow. 

his eyes narrowed, gleaming, “i think you’ll be fine, princess. call me if you need anything.”

your cheeks reddened, “okay. i’ll be in the shower.”

maul mumbled something incoherent, and you wandered through the den, discovering the hall that he mentioned. once you found the refresher, you peeled the damp clothing off your body, grateful that there was a towel hanging outside the shower. exhaling, you tossed your clothes outside the door, turning on the water. after adjusting the temperature to your liking, you stood underneath the stream, grateful for the warmth as it seeped into your skin. 

the shower was just as elegant as the apartment, with glass doors and a steel shower head in the shape of a square. it was far better than the shower in your own apartment, as you didn’t have to worry about wasting hot water or any spiders. steam billowed into the space, hugging the doors of the shower, droplets of water condensing on the glass. 

“i’m coming in to drop off some clothes,” the zabrak’s voice entered the room, “holy fuck do you always have the water this hot?”

“do you not?” you chuckled. 

“it feels like a sauna in here,” he chuckled, teasing, “anyways, i’ll leave you be.”

letting out a content sigh, you turned the water off once he left. opening the door, your eyes scanned the space for the light switch. after a few seconds, you found it, flipping on the vent. hopefully that would help with the amount of steam that clung to every single item in the refresher. 

on the counter, there was a black turtleneck, along with a pair of briefs. patting yourself dry, you slipped on the briefs first, then slid the turtleneck over your head. it was getting late, the clock on the counter reading 11:36 p.m. yawning, you pushed open the door, padding into the hall. 

maul was nowhere to be found, a frown forming on your lips. where could he had run off to? surely he would’ve mentioned something to you. yet, your curiosity crept in, urging you to explore. holding your breath, you noticed a door, inferring that it was maul’s bedroom.

the door creaked as you tapped it, the draft pulling it open. inside, the floor was the same as it was, a king-sized bed in the middle, pushed against the wall, supported by a black wooden bed frame. there was a dresser, along with a walk-in closet. the most breathtaking aspect were the viewports, acting as a wall. the lights of coruscant glowed, the room overlooking the city. rain flowed down the viewports as thunder rumbled. you felt drawn to them, awestruck by the beauty of the sprawling city.

“you like the view?” your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. 

“don’t scare me like that!” you pouted, folding your arms across your chest.

“don’t go snooping around,” maul smirked, matching your energy.

your heart thudded as his eyes drank in the sight of you, in his turtleneck. the sweater was a little large, hanging loosely in some areas. the briefs hugged your thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination. your nipples poked through the fabric of the sweater, the cool air sending a shiver running down your spine. 

“gods,” he breathed, licking his lips, “i-i don’t know what to say.”

“i’m sorry for wandering off,” you mumbled, your cheeks hot as shame burned through you, “i didn’t mean to-”

“just stop,” maul shook his head, taking a step towards you, “just fucking stop. you have no need to apologize.”

the air in room crackled like the lightning outside as he took another step forward, an old t-shirt clinging to his torso, the same pair of grey joggers hanging loosely on his hips. your throat tightened as you noticed the way his chest rose and fell, the zabrak’s breathing ragged. 

“it seems as if i can’t shake you off my mind,” he panted as the space between you dissolved, “lately, all of my thoughts have revolved about you.”

“what do you think about?” you swallowed thickly. 

“do you want the hear the answer?” his face was merely centimeters away from yours, “or would you rather experience it?” 

“i want both.”

his hand reached out, gently grasping your jaw. the touch was light, feathery as his fingers traced your heated skin. you melted, nearly collapsing to the floor. 

the zabrak’s eyes glowed, the amber now hardened into a deep honey hue, almost a chestnut brown, “can i kiss you?”

you nodded, almost a little too quickly, “yes.”

a low, guttural growl dripped from his lips, “i couldn’t resist you before. but fuck as soon as i saw you in my clothes, i just can’t fucking take it any longer.”

the kiss was hungry, an open-mouth, lustful kiss. his lips crashed into yours, yearning to explore the taste of your mouth. the zabrak’s hands laced into your hair, tugging at the roots, gripping tightly. a whine echoed through the room as he sucked on your bottom lip, his tongue delving into your mouth. a hand slid down, resting on the nape of your neck, holding you steady as the kisses grew hungrier and hungrier. 

“get on the bed,” he commanded, his tone thick with authority, a hand untangling itself from your hair and tugging on the hem of the turtleneck, “and take this off.”

the way the words rolled of his tongue struck you to your core, your folds growing slick as the anticipation grew. fingers wrapping around the hem, you tugged it off, your breasts bouncing. the zabrak practically groaned as he admired your exposed body, a hand palming his cock as it hardened, the outline prominent in the light. 

obeying his order, you laid on the bed, your back hitting the soft comforter. maul slipped off the t-shirt, almost pouncing on top of you. pinning you down, his mouth connected with your neck, trailing sloppy kisses down, onto your collarbone.

“if only i could leave my mark on you,” his breath was hot, coming out in pants, “i would paint you like a canvas.”

“you can,” the words were a broken moan as his tongue dragged across your collarbone. 

“oh?” you could feel his lip curved into a smile, “you want me to?”

“ye-” the reply was shortened as maul’s lips wrapped around nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive area. 

his tongue drifted from your nipple to your flesh, nipping and sucking, a satisfied purr erupting from the zabrak as a rich burgundy mark appeared, “i hope you’re aware that you’re the most beautiful woman i have ever met.”

“i don’t think so.”

within seconds, his mouth was hovering over the waistband of the briefs, “you better fucking believe you are, (y/n).”

“i- oh my god,” the tearing of fabric rang off the walls as maul ripped the briefs off your frame. 

“usually i take my time with this,” maul murmured, his gaze burning with lust, “but fuck i need you. i need to feel you take my cock.”

“please,” you whimpered, squirming as he parted your thighs.

“holy fuck. how are you so fucking wet? you’re soaking and i haven’t even touched you.”

the zabrak was appalled, a flash of awe painted across features as he took in the sight of your dripping core, your pussy aching. desire burned through your being, threatening to consume you whole. maker, you never knew you wanted someone this badly. exhilaration rushed through you with every touch, his fingers slipping between your folds. 

“i’ve thought about you like this,” maul was enticed, almost in a trace as your juices coated his fingers, “i’ve thought about the way your body would be underneath mine, your eyes begging for me to fuck you till you can’t take it anymore.”

“i’ve thought about you in class.”

“in class?” his voice faltered, “(y/n), that’s sinful.”

“it’s not as sinful as how i’ve wanted you to fuck me for weeks,” your cheeks were flushed,. 

“oh gods,” maul groaned as a finger entered you, “i’m going to make you mine.”

“please,” your hips bucked forward, his finger plunging further into you, “i want to be yours.”

“you’re going to be mine princess,” he purred, “i promise i’ll give you what you’ve been yearning for.” 

hastily, the zabrak tugged his sweats off, kicking them to the floor. your nearly choked on your spit when his member sprang free from the constraint of the fabric. his cock was massive, the largest you had ever seen. yet, it wasn’t too large that you couldn’t take it. crimson and black patterns wove all around it, his shaft ribbed, precum dribbling down his length. 

“tell me how much you need me,” his voice shifted from a coo to a growl as fingers wrapped around your throat, “tell me how badly you need professor maul to fuck you senseless.”

“i need you to fuck me,” the words were a broken whine. 

“louder,” his grip tightened, “say it louder. i need to hear you.”

“i need professor maul to fuck me,” the words were enough to bring the zabrak to the edge, to make him unfold. 

“good girl,” his tone oozed with praise, low and husky. 

he lined his tip at your entrance, slowly inserting himself into you. maul’s hand loosened from your throat, gripping the headboard for leverage. your moans were breathy, laced with bliss as your walls expanded, wrapping around his cock.

“that’s such a good fucking girl,” maul leaned in, nipping at your ear, “you take my cock.”

the zabrak thrust into you, his tip brushing against your g-spot. throwing your head against the pillow, your body almost went limp, collapsing. the pleasure was overwhelming, burning through you like a fire. but maker, did you want more. you needed more. 

maul watched as he fucked you, one hand steady on the headboard, the other on the mattress, gripping the sheets. he was plowing into you now, showing no mercy. the moans bouncing off the walls were rich and so loud, fueling his desire to keep going. the zabrak lost all inhibitions minutes ago, his thoughts blurred, eyes glossed over. 

the way you felt was heavenly, every single thrust euphoric. 

maker, was he losing control. 

tightening his grip on the headboard, his knuckles were almost white. he was completely feral, unhinged, detached. 

a horrid cracking filled the zabrak’s ears, and he glanced up towards the headboard. the wood split into two, a lengthy, crack down the middle, stemming from his hand. 

“oh shit,” you gasped. 

“look what you made me do, angel,” a smirk stretched across his lips, “you’re going to fucking pay for that.”

your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he slammed into you, balls slapping against skin. his cock throbbed, swelling. with every throb, your walls tightened, the pleasure building in your belly. eyes squeezing shut, you felt every inch of him buried in your soaking pussy, balls deep in you now. 

“maul,” the zabrak nearly unfolded right there, “i’m going to cum.”

“let go baby,” his lips brushed against yours, “you can cum. cum for me.”

the orgasm racked your body, maul’s mouth connected with yours, the moans muffled. your thighs trembled, stars bursting in your vision, the pleasure almost blinding. 

with no strength left, your body went limp, collapsing into the mattress. 

his thrusts were more languid, sloppy with every stroke. maul came moments later, filling you up with it all. 

“fuck,” he cursed under his breath, a sheen of sweat clinging to his body, “are you all right?”

“i’m fine,” your inner thighs buzzed, soreness creeping into the muscle. 

every inch of skin the zabrak touched tingled, as if your body was savoring the memory.

maul cleared his throat, his cock still inside of you, “i kinda lost control.”

“kinda?”

“a little bit,” he chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead, “it’s been so long since i’ve last had sex. it doesn’t help that i’m in heat, either.”

“you’re in heat?” you pressed, brows furrowing. 

“perhaps,” the color of his eyes returned to their normal hue, amber flowing into crimson, “let’s get you cleaned up. it’s late.”

“is it past the professor’s bedtime?” your tone was snarky. 

“don’t tempt me to fuck you again. because we both know damn well that i will.”

glancing up, you noticed the broken headboard, “how much is that going to cost?”

the zabrak let out a huff as his cock slid out of you, drenched with a mixture of juices, “i don’t know. it’s the least of my concerns at the moment. stay here, and don’t move a muscle.”

swinging his legs over the mattress, maul strolled towards the refresher, retrieving a rag to clean up the mess that you made. you sunk into the bed, questions ringing through your mind. 

yet, you couldn’t help but notice a prominent feature. in the light, the tattooed skin glowed. but there was something different about the way his thighs transitioned from flesh to an ashen metal. 

maul’s legs were cybernetic. 

and your curiosity about the zabrak, your professor, skyrocketed.

***

tagged: @sapphicstars , @maulieber , @starflyer-104 , @alwayshappysith , @doobiwankenooku , @magicalkitkat12 , @dartheldur , @princessayveke , @multifandombtch , @spaghetti-666 , @lis-ard , @swimmingsloths , @sithmando​ , @mother-0f-monsters​

[llogllady99]

Crimson Red: Prologue

CHARACTERS | Levi, Erwin, Petra, Hange, Moblit, Mike, Nanaba, Eld, Oluo, Gunther, Kenny, Erwin’s Father, Kuchel, Frieda Reiss, Nile Dok, Yelena, Marie

RELATIONSHIPS | Levi x Erwin

GENRE | Mystery, Thriller, Romance, Dark Academia

IV | Blood and gore, Blood and violence, Alternate universe - modern setting/high school/ boarding school, angst and fluff and smut, knife kink, knife play, drama & romance, eventual romance, eventual smut, emotional manipulation, cults, rituals

SUMMARY | Sina Academy of Excellence and Inquiry is the best boarding school in all of England, producing over time leaders of Nations and outstanding personalities in society as well as being the perfect environment for your child to flourish in, spending his time with specially trained staff to support his need and wonderful, well behaved peers like him. We only have two rules: don't go in the woods and do not try to go through locked doors.

From the statement above one would have assumed that Sina was the perfect school and that the rules that were imposed were just for their children's safety, but as Levi joins the school at the beginning of his senior year, he uncovers a secret so putrid and morbid that will leave him scared for life. That is...if he manages to make it out alive.

Chapter song: God rest ye merry gentleman - Pentatonix (slowed & reverb)

December 21st, 1995 Yule Festival

If you asked Erwin Smith what his plans were for the celebration of Yule, as he always remained on campus over the holidays, he would have told you that he were to be found cozying up on the lilac couch by the fire, basking in the heat emanated by the hearth, and enjoying one of those contemporary novels meant for mass consumption and reading the evening away in the dorms of the Boethiah house. Later, if he felt up to it, he would trek happily across the dark vaulted corridors of the academy to the bathing rooms and relax into one of the immense thermae alone, sans the forever present havoc caused by the agglomeration of teenage boys during early school mornings. What he would not have answered was: his girlfriend was to be killed tonight by no one other than him. Sweet Marie will meet her end tonight, scarlet and thick blood gushing out of her freshly sliced neck.

Flicking his wrist, slightly pulling back his navy blue Tudor coat, Erwin checked the time. It was 22:59. If he were to meet Marie in the next minute, then he wouldn’t have to worry about getting to the crypts on time, but he could always improvise - the campus being almost abandoned at this time of night with no students lurking around - and kill Marie right in their meeting spot, in front of all the security cameras and the dining hall’s high arched and trellised windows slowly breaking each of her limbs, while the poor creature tries to crawl herself out of the situation, blood curling screams sounding into the night, while finally being abruptly cut off by Erwin twisting her neck. But no, he had to be careful, his father would take care of the security cameras but if there would have been prying ears and eyes in the dining hall, then he wouldn’t have gotten away so easily. It was a dark, dull, and soundless night with clouds hanging so oppressively low in the sky, they produced thick white fog that snaked its way between the alleyways and immense gothic buildings. One street lamp was the only thing that lighted the small plaza in front of the four adjacent dorm rooms, its golden light resting on Erwin’s figure, revealing the soft blonde hair, determined and ruthless sapphire eyes, strong jawline, and tall, well built body. He was dressed casually, wearing his most comfortable clothes: jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He was supposed to be spending the evening with Marie up in his dorm room, enjoying some cheesy and petty romcom broadcasted on the TV, and more formal wear would disrupt the cozy atmosphere that would supposedly settle between them, that and blood would be a bitch to get out of them.

Huffing in frustration, Erwin checked the time again: 23:05. If Marie didn’t show up then it would have all been for nothing. However, just as he was making up his mind to go after her, the girl exited her dorm room and with a wide grin, spreading from cheek to cheek on her sweet face, ran into Erwin’s arms. He snorted and greeted her.

“Hello sweet lover, I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t show up tonight.”

“I’m terribly sorry, dear Erwin, but I might have had a change of mind regarding the outfit I was to wear tonight.” Marie chuckled as she let him go, settling back down on her feet. In the golden light, the girl was beautiful, her long blonde hair sitting comfortably on her dainty shoulders, her eyes shining almost green as blue mixed with yellow from the light, her cheekbones were high, just like his, and her lips rosy red. Erwin almost regretted having to kill her, but it was for the sake of everyone around him. It was his duty as head boy, as a son, and as a student to steal this girl’s life. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her plush like lips and with a smile, grabbed her hand and began leading her into the direction of his dorm. His dorm was a just across the plaza in front of her own building. So with long hurried steps across the grass, they reached the entrance. All of the buildings were linked together in a square.

“Where’s the rush Erwin? Are you really so excited by our casual night in?” Chuckled Marie and hurried her pace to match his.

“Certainly,” answered Erwin, not even paying attention to her.

“The hallways are unusually quiet, so is the campus. Don’t you think it’s strange dear, that not even the staff seem to be present?” Continued Marie.

“Well, it’s almost Christmas, it suppose it would be kind of sad if they were to be hanging around campus instead of enjoying their time with their families. After all, they’re humans, just like me and you.” Erwin tried to answer her question, growing more annoyed by the second.

Finally they reached his room, and like the gentleman he was opened the door for his girlfriend, letting her in. It was the first time that Marie entered his room, so with a bit of excitement the girl started wandering through it, stopping to admire the little trinkets he had placed randomly around his room, like the telescope that was facing his window, or various maps that laid, carefully rolled and tied with black string. Erwin lingered behind the door and scanned his room looking for his weapon: a wooden baseball bat, scratched, chipped and stained red, that happen to be positioned right in the left corner of the room, closest to the door. He went and picked it up, gently trailing his fingertips over the rough surface. Giving it a few experimental swings, he called out to Marie as he was slowly approaching her.

“Like what you see, Marie?”

“Indeed, you have a lot of interesting things lying around here, but I can’t help but wonder if you would be so kind as to turn on the light.” She chuckled and slightly bent down to examine the telescope.

“It’s not necessary for what’s to come.” Erwin replied, and with a smile approached the girl in hurried steps, building momentum.

“Erwin?” Marie slowly tried to turn around as she was startled by his reply. “What’s that supposed to me-“ She tried asking, but before she could finish her sentence, the bat collided with her skull, breaking it to a million pieces. With a loud thud, the cadaver collapsed to the floor. Erwin sighed, it required so much work to kill somebody: drawing the victim in, killing it, carrying the body, and getting rid of it. He would have to talk with his father about getting a payment or some kind of reward out of it.

Rubbing away some of his sweat from his forehead, Erwin bent down and grabbed the body, throwing it over his shoulder, wincing slightly as the weight collapsed onto him. Satisfied, Erwin made his way out of the dorm room and into the darkness of the hallway, his whistling the only thing perturbing the eerie silence that settled over the school as if in mourning of their newly lost peer.

-

Twilight enveloped the academy. Combinations of blue, lavender, and light pink reflected off the Chapel’s pointed arches, ribbed vaults, and sipping in through the stained glass windows that adjourned each side of the building as Erwin made his way out and down the vibrant green lawn,  his footsteps levelling the grass where he stepped and the lifeless cadaver still slumped over his shoulder. It had served his purpose and it was now time to get rid of it. Quickening his pace, he headed to the woods right behind the Chapel. This was his least favourite part of his job. The forest was dense and light could barely pass through the crowns and branches of the trees. Nevertheless, the trees were lanky, twisted in unnatural ways with branches sharp like knives. The bark was a dark brown, with a coarse texture, which could scratch and cut if the individual touching it was not being careful. However, what unnerved Erwin gravely was not only the eerie darkness that seemed to swallow the forest but also the absence of fauna in it. Sighing deeply, he proceeded to walk into the forest.

Erwin could have sworn the greenwood was like a warm hole. Every time he went through it, time seemed to stop, the existence of anything beside the forest seemed to be erased, leaving him wandering through the gloomy sea of trees, desperate for an escape. After what seemed like an eternity, Erwin started to notice the outline of hundreds of newly dug out graves, each with a big pile of freshly turnt earth, especially made so that bodies like this could be dumped in easily and covered just as easily. The sight helped him ease his nerves a little bit. Unconsciously, he quickened his pace. This was the first sign that he was close to the graveyard. He soon found himself at the edge of the forest once more.

Not wasting anymore time, Erwin walked to the edge of the cemetery, at the farthest of graves he hoisted the corpse up and tossed it lackadaisically into its final resting place. With a frustrated sigh, he picked up the spade and started to dump the soil over it. The corpse looked nothing like Marie anymore, her clothes, once spotless and emanating the sweetest of scents, were now covered in blood, and her skin, once a beautiful olive yellow was now waxy white, every drop of blood squeezed out of her right through the wide open wound on her neck. The soil got stuck in her hair, painting the blonde brown, in her eyes, filling the glassy stare with bits of gravel and dirt, slowly covering and erasing every evidence of her existence. With one final flick of spade, Erwin managed to cover up the body completely. Breathing heavily from the exertion, and dumping one crimson red rose on the grave, he opened his mouth and voiced his last words to her.

“Merry Christmas and Happy Yule, may you rest in peace, Marie.”

Notes:

I do not own Attack on titan or any of the characters in the show or related to it!!

I really hoped you like it, if you did please stick around as there will be more where that came from!

[its--fandom--darling]

Wrapped Up in You

Pairing: Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt: ~gently wrapping a scarf around the other with an accidental brushing of the cheek

Rating: E for Everyone

              The library is quiet and cozy. It’s your favorite place to be on campus. You’re not sure if it’s the smell of books or the smell of the café that puts you at such ease there but deep down you don’t care. It’s the perfect place to write your essays and get your homework done in peace away from your rowdy roommate. The fact that the librarian’s assistant was extremely attractive. He was polite and soft spoken when he checked out your books. He was always focused on the process of scanning your books and punching the library cards, just so that it gave you the perfect opportunity to admire him and his beautiful cheekbones and silky hair that looked uber soft. He always keep it up in a bun. You desperately wanted to take it down and run you fingers through it. He had the bluest eyes you’d ever seen hidden behind his gold rimmed glasses. Still his eyes always managed to twinkle in the fluorescent lighting of the library foyer. Boy, did you have it bad for him.

              Today the library is busier than usual, as thanksgiving break is looming and pre vacation deadlines are coming up. Thankfully, your secret spot is free as it’s tucked away in the uppermost floor of the library, behind the boxes of microfiche. You’d found it during the last semester of your sophomore year and it had been a godsend. You got settled into the study nook and pulled out your laptop, determined to finish the first draft of your final paper before you left for the night. The biggest perk of being so hidden is that you were hardly interrupted and that would definitely come in handy during these times. You pull your scarf off and tuck it into the chair and start writing. The time flies as you right, arguing you position as ardently as you can. Your struggling to finish your conclusion when your stomach growls breaking your concentration.

              You take a glance at the clock on your laptop. At 9:30 both the cafeteria and the café in the lobby were closed. You sigh as your stomach rumbles again. You dig through your bag, looking for the protein bar you keep in there for times like these before remembering that you’d eaten it during yesterday’s writing session.

              The soft pat of footsteps approaching catch your attention and you look up to catch your favorite librarian rounding the corner. His faces lights up in surprise when he notices you.

              “oh sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was up here,” he says softly.

You smile at him. “It’s ok, I’m just finishing up here anyways.”

              He shuffles awkwardly. “I was just coming up here to eat, my dinner, I’m finally on break.”

You pull some of your stuff off the far side of the table. “Feel free to sit, I’m hogging the table.”

              “Are you sure?” he asks, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You nod, “yeah, it’s no problem. I was gonna head back to my dorm for food. I got so caught up in my writing that I missed the dining hall.”

              He sits and pulls out a brown sack. “Do you want half of my turkey and swiss?”

You shake your head. “Oh no, I don’t wanna take your food.” You stomach growls loudly, some what resembling a beached whale.

              He smiles, “It sounds like your stomach does, plus I really don’t mind sharing.”

You smile and reach out your hand. “Well thanks, I’m (y/n).”

              He shakes your hand, “Call me Bucky and I know who you are (y/n). You’re like our best customer.” He says pulling out his sandwich and offering you a half.

You take it and smile, before taking a bite. “Can I ask you how you get Bucky from James?” you ask, pointing at his nametag

              “Oh, my middle name is Buchanan and my dad’s name is James so growing up everyone called me Bucky and it just kinda followed me to college.”

You nod as you chew thoughtfully, “It suits you.”

              “You think so?”

You nod again. “This sandwich is really good by the way.”

              He smiles, “Thank you. It’s the bread, my roommate stress bakes.”

You smiles, “Really? Mine is just super loud.”

              He chuckles and pulls out a bag of carrots. He opens the baggie and offers you some.

“Thank you.” You take a couple and crunch on them happily. “So what are you majoring?”

              He swallows his mouthful. “I’m a double major, History and Russian Literature.”

You raises you eyebrows, “Wow, that’s impressive and here I am a lowly English major.”

              He rolls his eyes, “That’s still cool.”

You shrug. “It’s ok.”

              He smiles and finishes his sandwich. You talk until his watch beeps. “oh shit, my breaks over. It was really nice talking to (y/n). Maybe we can do this again sometime?”

              You nod, “I’d really like that.”

You look at your watch and stand, collecting your books and bag. “I should really get going too.”

              “Can I help you carry anything?” he asks, softly.

“Oh, you don’t have to that, Bucky, really I can manage.” You murmur, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

              “Don’t forget your scarf,” he says grabbing it from the floor where it’d fallen. He gently wraps it around you never and brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

Your face heats up and you wet your lips gently. “Thank you.”

              He smiles at you, “You’re welcome. C-Can I walk you out?”

You nod as he slips your bag off your shoulder and puts it on his before slipping his hand in yours. You walk towards the elevators together and ride down in comfortable silence. He walks you to the front door and pauses to give your bag back.

“Thank you for a nice evening, Bucky.” You say, adjusting your backpack.

              “It was my pleasure, doll,” He replies, brushing your hair behind your ear again.

You give him a smile. “I should get going.”

              He nods, “oh yeah, I should get back to work.” He turns towards back towards to desk briefly before turning back to face you and dropping a kiss on your cheek.

              “Meet me in the café tomorrow at noon for lunch, I’m off tomorrow so we can talk as long as we want.” He asks, hopefully.

You nod, eagerly. “Yes, I’d love too but what about work?”

              He smiles at you crookedly, “I’m off tomorrow, so your all day.”

You smile widely. “I’ll you at noon then. Should we exchange numbers?” you ask offering him your phone. He pulls his out and trades with you. You tap your numbers into each other’s phones quickly.

              “Barnes, I need you back behind the counter!” the librarian hisses angrily as Bucky hands your phone back to you.

              “Duty calls, doll, I’ll text you.” He says with a crooked grin.

“Bye, Bucky.” You say, waving to him as he jogs back over to the counter. You push open the door, shivering briefly at the gust of chilly autumn air that greets you. It however, doesn’t damper your mood as you have a date with the cutest librarian on campus tomorrow and your heart had never felt so warm. You can still feel his lips against your cheek and that makes you smile all the way back to your dorm

Tagging: @persephone-is-here-omg​ @salimahbicharara-comun​ @angryschnauzer​ @soldatsaleannan​ @yourgoldenhell​

[sugarsugarmoon]

Passion Project

Summary: artist!yoongi x poet!reader. yoongi and yn are friends that are attending the same university. in need of a muse for his latest assignment, yoongi turns to you for a rather intimate portrait.

Genre: fluff, fluff, and more fluff

Warnings: some swearing, teeth rotting, heart aching, cliche ass fluff

a/n: This is my contribution to the @heartsforbtsnet​’s “The Chronicles of y/n” collab. It was tough for me to write only fluff, but I loved it. I love Yoongi 🥺. There will be an nsfw follow-up piece.

WC: 3830

Everyone always said “don’t go to art school,” and “what are you going to do with a fine art degree?”

You didn’t know, but you knew what you loved. Your passion is split between creative writing and film photography. You would give anything to be able to write poetry for a living, but you know that you’re no Rupi Kaur. Opportunities for poets aren’t very common. But you remained true to yourself, writing everything at every given opportunity.

You fell in love with photography at 13. You had saved up all of your spare money for a year to be able to take Film Photography 101 at the local youth center. From the first roll of film that you processed, you were in love. And now you’re here. Studying the things you love most.

You were filling an elective requirement and taking an intro to drawing course. Most of the people in there were musicians or writers or photographers like yourself. One of them was the music production and painting major Min Yoongi. You thought it was weird to see him in that class the first time you saw him there. Painters usually knew at least a little bit about drawing.

The first day of class, you’d gone around the room and said who you were and what you hoped to get out of the class. You had said your name and that you hoped to gain any skills in drawing at all. Min Yoongi had said that he struggled with still life, focusing mainly on the abstract in his paintings. He wanted to get better at figures. You could relate because you could draw a pretty decent mountain range, but a person? Forget it.

You knew Yoongi from around campus. A friend of a friend, kind of deal. You sat beside him and another Photography major that you get along with, Jeon Minju. Minju is sweet and silly. Yoongi is quiet and sarcastic. It was a weird juxtaposition that you found hilarious. Drawing might just be your favorite class this semester for that simple reason.

The class started out easy enough. Only drawing shadows. One continuous line drawing. Your favorite was playing with charcoal. It was just fun to manipulate and smudge. You loved playing with negative space and light. And getting your fingers covered made you feel like a child playing with chalk.

Yoongi and Minju were both good with light as well. Yoongi’s shadow drawings were incomparable with the rest of the class. You kept thinking to yourself that it was absurd he was here.

Until it came time for figure drawing.

That’s when you realized that though most artists can figure out light and shadows...figures are something completely their own. You listened carefully to every word from the professors mouth, trying to improve your craft. You were not great by any definition of the term, but man, were you better than Min Yoongi. His drawings looked like they were done by first graders who were trying their hardest to make anything look right but just couldn’t get it.

You tried to encourage Yoongi and not laugh at his drawings, but sometimes it was hard when the person in it looked like a straight up penis. 

“Dude,” you said to him once, “you’ve seen a person before, right?”

He had blushed crimson and turned away from you. You felt a little guilty about making him embarrassed, and you tried to walk it back. The damage had already been done, and he didn’t show you any of his drawings for 2 weeks. When he finally showed you one, it was so much better.

“Yoongi, honestly I’m sorry I made fun of you, but this is so good.”

It wasn’t “so good,” but it was pretty good. You wanted to boost his confidence. It seems to work all right, and he starts showing you more of his drawings. You feel a slight feeling of redemption inside at fixing your own mistake.

Over the course of the semester, you, Yoongi, and Minju spent a lot of time together. Something about bonding over the stress of not being good at drawing had bonded the three of you. Every Thursday you eat lunch together at the taco stand in the student center. You even organized a couple of movie nights, watching B-movies together and laughing at how terrible they are.

Birdemic: Shock and Terror was one of your favorites. The three of you had laughed so hard at it because none of it made any sense, and it looked like it was filmed on the cheapest piece of crap camera in the weirdest locations possible.

You sat in your living room, eating popcorn and chips, watching the movies together. It started out kind of awkwardly keeping your distance from each other. Minju on one side of you, Yoongi on the other.

You kept your shoulders away from both of theirs, tending to lean further toward Minju just because you didn't want to make Yoongi uncomfortable. You felt unsure about him at first. Soon you'd started to get to know him more, and you learned that he wasn't cold like he had initially seemed. He was funny and sarcastic. You loosened up. You didn't mind if your shoulder brushed his or if the two of you shared a snack, occasionally brushing finger tips.

It was comfortable, your friendship with Minju and Yoongi. The three of you nearly inseparable. Your schedule coincided with Yoongi’s more than Minju’s, so you ate lunch together nearly everyday, swiping into the dining hall and finding his friends or yours. They knew now to save 2 seats for both of you.

The two of you were nearly inseparable except for when you were in classes. He would meet you in the quad, paint splatters on his face and hands, beaming at you. It was such a seamless friendship. He was an introvert who was kind of over people. You were an introvert who was kind of over people. It just clicked. 

****

One night in November, you had a movie night planned with Minju and Yoongi. Minju calls you around 6pm panicking because she hasn’t finished one of her photography projects. You had finished it earlier in the week, and you offer to come down to the photography building to help her. She insists that she wants to do it on her own, but she won’t be able to make the movie.

You tell her it was no big deal and that you can reschedule for another time. You text Yoongi, and he asks if you still wanted him to come. At first you want to say no because you aren’t going to end up watching the movie you planned. Then you decide that it would be nice seeing Yoongi anyway. He is one of your best friends anyway, so why not?

When Yoongi arrives at your door, he’s wearing a gray beanie with a square, unamused gray smiley face on it. He has one AirPod in one ear. His slight frame is clothed with a gray hoodie with a white shirt poking out the bottom. He has on fitted, tapered sweatpants with a white stripe down the side. Quintessential cozy Yoongi.

He has a brown bag in his hand that you can tell is full of food. There’s a small damp spot on the side from condensation.

“I brought food,” he says with a shrug. 

He makes his way to your couch like he lives there himself. He tosses the bag down on the coffee table, plops down on the couch, and begins to rummage through the paper sack. He pulls out several different containers, each holding some of your favorite foods. You feel a weird feeling in your chest as you watch him sitting there, casually opening the lids on each of the takeout containers.

You shake off the feeling and sit next to him. You dig into the food, picking out pieces of oi kimchi with your chopsticks and popping them into your mouth. Looking at the table, you see that Yoongi got extra of your favorite, oi kimchi, even though he doesn’t like it very much. You smile at the sight of it then keep eating.

The two of you sit in near silence, chewing away on the samgyeopsal and galbi.

You turn to him and ask, “Do you want to watch a movie? It’s almost Thanksgiving. We could watch my all time favorite Thanksgiving movie.”

“Two questions,” he replies. “One: THERE ARE THANKSGIVING MOVIES? Two: YOU HAVE A FAVORITE!?”

“Well, one, yeah. And two, of course.”

You switch on the TV and click over to the hard drive that you have connected to it. You hover over the title “Thankskilling” and turn and look over at Yoongi. He reads the title and chokes slightly on his food. A satisfied smile spreads across his face, and he nods at you. Both of you turn your attention back to the screen.

The two of you laugh out loud immediately upon, “Nice tits, bitch!” being uttered by the turkey. Yoongi laughs hard out loud.

“Oh, I am so excited about this,” he utters.

The movie continues on, you and Yoongi laugh and add commentary as you watch. The tears brim in your eyes as you watch, and Yoongi grabs your leg hard as he laughs at “Gobble, gobble, motherfucker.”

You look down at his hand on your knee and stare at it for a moment. You feel weird seeing it there, but it doesn’t feel wrong. It feels warm, calming, and comfortable. Yoongi turns and sees his hand resting on your leg. He immediately pulls it away and looks up at you, cheeks turning pink. You turn away and try to pretend like you didn’t feel something in the pit of your stomach.

The rest of the movie, the two of you sit a little further apart from one another, still laughing and commenting the whole time. When the movie is over, you chat, turning slightly toward one another, joking about the turkey and school with one another.

After an hour, your roommate walks into the apartment from her study group with her friends. She looks up at the two of you on the couch and raises her eyebrows.

“Sorry, yn, I didn’t realize you had a date tonight. I would have stayed out longer.”

You feel the heat coming to your cheeks, and you drop your head. “It’s not a date. It’s just Yoongi,” you snap as quickly as possible.

You don’t look at Yoongi at all, so embarrassed by Jinhee’s comment.

“Well, I gotta go,” Yoongi mutters awkwardly next to you.

He gets up and stalks out the door quickly past Jinhee. He barely tosses a “goodbye” your way as he makes his way into the hallway. You glare at your roommate, and when she closes the door you roll your eyes.

“Thank you so much for making that as awkward as possible,” you say and begin cleaning the food off the coffee table. You sulk off into your bedroom as soon as you have cleaned up. Jinhee shouts sorry after you.

***

Near the end of the semester, the professor assigns you a project. Any medium that you want to use to draw. 5 human figure drawings.

Passion.

That’s it. That’s the whole prompt. He didn’t give you any more information. He just said passion. When asked by students, he did say that it could be the same figure or 5 different figures. Any size. Any paper. Any style. And an author’s statement about the techniques used and how it represents passion.

Easy enough. But challenging in so many ways. You decided to draw your 5 best friends - Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, Namjoon, and Seokjin. The passion there would be the different passions you see within all of them. Jungkook’s passion for boxing. Jimin’s passion for baking. Hoseok’s passion for dance. Namjoon’s passion for social justice. Seokjin’s passion for acting. Together, the five of them were the most passionate people that you know. They were chasing their dreams, and it helped you feel like you could absolutely complete the assignment.

Yoongi was a different story. He seemed panicked from the moment the professor said that it was figure drawings. You could see him wracking his brain for something that could represent passion to him. You wanted to grab his hand and comfort him, tell him it would be okay.

You and Minju chatted excitedly after that class about the ideas that you had. Yoongi lagged behind, dragging his feet slightly. At the lunch table in the dining hall, Yoongi seemed distracted, poking his food and barely eating.

“Yoongi, what’s your deal, man?” Minju asks, a small smirk on her face.

“I’m not sure,” he says in a faint voice.

Minju turns to you and shrugs. You keep working on your bowl of cereal. You know it’s not the most nutritious meal, but hey, you’re in university. This is the time to eat cereal for every meal. You aren’t sure what you could even do for Yoongi, and you’re pretty sure the project is getting to him. He was fine before class started.

“Hey, Yoon, is it the project getting to you?”

“I just don’t know what to do,” he grumbles.

“Well, that’s okay, Yoongi. You have some time,” Minju pipes.

You stuff another bite of cereal into your mouth, looking between the two of them. You aren’t sure what you could even encourage him to do because you know him, but you don’t really know his passions beyond painting and music.

“Maybe you could draw something that has to do with painting?” you ask between bites.

“I just don’t know,” he says and turns his eyes back down to the plate in front of him.

The three of you sit in awkward silence eating your food. You are unsure how to comfort your friend, but you don’t want to push him any further. When lunches ends, you all go to your classes, saying brief awkward goodbyes.

*******

You hardly see Yoongi except for in class over the course of the next two weeks. He’s a little distant and stoic in class, so you just focus your attention on drawing your final project. You love the way that the shadows you create on the paper show the love and beauty within your friends. They aren’t perfect drawings, but you see each of your friends in each of the drawings.

For your artist statement, you decide to describe the technique and medium normally but write the statement about them into poems. 

Seokjin. Charcoal on paper. The faces you wear Hide the pain within you You put on each of your masks Dazzling the crowd Your eyes sparkle They tell the story Of your life And the thousand others You play

Namjoon. Graphite on paper. Someone said You couldn’t do it When in reality You were doing it all along You hold up the world Against the light To see it for what it is Examining it like a researcher Like a warrior You won’t stop

Hoseok. White charcoal on black paper. Your movements Fluid Like water Dancing Lapping at the shore

Your passion Love Like the moon Pulling Pushing the passion from within you

Jimin. Graphite on paper. Like the cinnamon roll. You are warm and sweet. Filled with love and spiciness. Without the tang of the cinnamon, The sugar would be too sweet. Without the sugar, The cinnamon would bite too hard. You, like the cinnamon roll, Are a comfort A joy A love To be savored.

Jungkook. Charcoal on canvas. The sweetest and softest. The kindest and brightest. The golden boy. The strongest and the fiercest. The boldest and the truest. My golden maknae.

You looked at your drawings and the pages, the short poems. You feel a pride inside that swells in your chest as you breathe deeply, looking down at it. The way that you feel like the aura of each of your friends radiates from the pages. Even from the black and white, you can feel Hoseok’s orange, Seokjin’s pink, Jungkook’s red, Jimin’s purple, and Namjoon’s blue. The warmth of them jumps off the page.

You wonder to yourself how Yoongi is doing.You send him a text, and he doesn’t respond. You assume he’s working hard on all of his classes because it’s the end of the semester. Personally, you’ve put together a portfolio of 200 poems and completed a photo folio. You were burned out, and you felt like the drawings took the most time for you. You can imagine that with painting and drawing, Yoongi is swamped.

You see him on the day that you’re supposed to have a gallery walk for all of the classes final projects. He isn’t in the room at first when everyone starts setting up, their pieces and their statements displayed together. He jogs into the room a little late with papers stuffed under his arm, pressed against his side.

He lays out his drawings hastily and flops down a paper in front of them in the last open spot. He doesn’t greet you and Minju, but you figure he’s just stressed. The class begins, and you make your way around the room. You read each artist’s statement carefully, feeling self-conscious about yours when you read the explanations that your peers wrote. Much more in-depth about the topics and the subjects. You worry about your grade.

You make your way to Minju’s, and you smile at the drawings of cameras and photographers. Minju is so committed, so passionate about photography. You can feel her smile in each of the drawings. They’re not perfect, but they are pretty good. Minju was the most talented of the three of you. The smile creeps across your face again as you read the words detailing her love for photography, the way a camera feels in her hand, the joy she feels when the developer starts to reveal the image.

When the timer goes off, you continue to move. There are a few more that you read before you arrive at Yoongi’s. You stare at the pages, your eyes darting around the page at each of the features. Your breath catches in your throat, and your stomach does a flip. There’s no way.

On the pages before you, you see the curve of your own nose and cheeks. The way your hair rests against your collarbone. The glitter in your eye. You can’t mistake the face and body that you see in the mirror every single day.

You snatch the artist’s statement off the desk and pull it close to your face. Your eyes scan the words as tears start to well your eyes.

Passion. To me passion is the way that you can watch any B movie and find the good in it. Passion is how you write poem after poem, searching for the precise word. Passion is the way that you want to capture every beautiful moment on film. Passion is your smile as you read a text from your mother. Passion is the way that you bite your fingernails when you’re thinking hard. Passion is the way that your pen moves on the paper as your forehead crinkles. Passion is the way you make me feel. Passion is you. Graphite on paper.

You can’t stop the tears that fill your eyes, and your heart is pounding in your chest. You turn and scan the room. You can’t see Yoongi through the sea of bodies across the room. The feeling overwhelms you, so you decide to take a moment in the hallway. No one will notice you're gone.

Once in the hall, you take a deep breath. You hear a shuffling down the hallway from you. You snap your head toward the sound, and there stands a cat-like man in a black sweatshirt and a gray beanie. He’s looking at you with a sadness in his eyes, and the tears start to fall from your eyes.

“Why are you crying?” Yoongi asks, walking toward you.

You shake your head unable to form the words.

“Did you see it?” he asks, timidly. “Oh my god, you hate it!”

He turns his face away from you, but he doesn’t walk away. He brings his thumb up and wipes a tear away from your cheek. You sniffle and wipe the tears from the other side. Your eyes finally meet his.

“No, I didn’t hate it, Yoongi. So far from that.”

A light spreads to his eyes and across his face. “Really?”

“Yoongi, those things that you wrote. Did you mean that?”

With a smile on his lips, he gently grabs your chin and says, “I meant every single word of it. Over the last few months, things have seemed...lighter. Brighter. You’ve done that in my life. My paintings are more bright, with warmer colors. Hell, I’ve been whistling. You make everything seem okay. Honestly, yn, you make me so happy, it’s stupid.

“Yoongi, I feel the same way. You should read the sappy poems that I’ve been writing. You have changed me for the better. I look forward to talking to you every day. I light up if your name shows up on my phone.”

You mean to say more, but at that moment, Yoongi tilts your chin toward him and presses his lips against yours. His mouth is soft and pillowy; the sweet minty flavor in his mouth draws you in further. You kiss him more deeply and wrap your arms around his neck. When the two of you separate, you smile at him. You can’t help but be reminded of Cho Chang in Harry Potter. You kiss the boy that you like so much while there are tears on your face.

The classroom door clicks, and you hear a familiar voice from the room.

“Oh god. It’s about time you too,” Minju calls toward you. She giggles then you hear the door click shut.

“As much as I love this moment, we should probably get back inside and get back to class,” you whisper against Yoongi’s lips.

“I don’t want toooooooo,” he whines and kisses you again.

You pull away from him and lace your fingers through his. You pull the reluctant man toward the classroom. He whines and moans the whole time, but eventually, he gives in and enters the classroom with him.

After the class period is over, you and Yoongi walk down the hall with Minju, you two holding hands. You kiss him on the cheek, and Minju murmurs, “gross.”

“I don’t even care what grade I get,” Yoongi says. “I got the best possible thing from that class.”

He looks at you and both you and Minju, and the two of you groan at the cheesy comment.

“What? I mean the ability to draw better,” he laughs. “Oh!? Did you think I meant you? Look, you’re great, but I mean...I’m an amazing drawer now.”