#and also if she says no then i need to find another class or something to take to fill in the space

[danielnelsen]

well i guess i can play bg3 now, assuming it finishes downloading sometime in the next 2 months

[gerards-way]

i’m so not ready to start school in two weeks

[inkskinned]

in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).

you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.

you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.

you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.

the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.

you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.

but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.

all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.

the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.

and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.

after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.

[merchelsea]

Could you write something really fluffy about Lando Norris x reader? Maybe something were their relationship is fairly new and it’s only like the 2nd or 3rd race week the reader has been to and she starts to get sick. She doesn’t feel well at all and try’s to hide it from lando so he can focus on the race but he eventually finds out and is all worried and cuteee

worried sick — lando norris

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: it’s her first time attending a grand prix and also flying and she doesn’t want anything to ruin her boyfriend’s race, but she gets sick in the process.

author’s note: sorry for taking so long to get to the heart of your request (fluff) but i needed to give context to his worriess

word count: 3k

warnings: curse words

masterlist | requests (open)

you sat on the dinner table, unable to speak. the fork fell from your hand the moment you heard lando's proposal and your eyes followed it's trail.

lando genuinely thought this would be a good idea, but seeing your reaction, with his eyebrows lifted, he may have changed his mind.

you had been dating for quite some time, four months and sixteen days, to be precise, but you were still a little aprehensive about the attention.

from the start, he warned you and gave you an easy way out of his life, but your love overpowered your fears.

even in a relationship, you and lando did everything you could to keep you out of the public eye, and it was working. no one knew about you and him and you liked that. but you were aware that he wanted you by his side while facing the adventures that his job provided him, and that he didn't want to keep you as a secret forever.

so when he made the invitation, it didn't surprise you, but you had to think about it.

you looked at him, he was wearing some jeans and a white hoodie that made him adorable in your eyes. he was looking at you, and you could notice him telling you it was okay to say no with his look.

but there was still a glimpse of hope in his beautiful green eyes, and in your mind you took another look at the pros and cons.

you could scratch out a couple of cons... like the fact that you liked being private. it was true, but you didn't mind not being a secret, and you would never like the idea of having famous and stunning women thinking that your boyfriend was available.

so with a soft look, in that modernly decorated dinning room in his home, you nodded your head.

"i think we could go to china together, yeah." he gave you a confused glance, but refrained from questioning you, afraid you would change your mind.

"great!" he stood up and walked over to you, "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before taking his empty plate to the sink.

you watched him come back and sit with you while you finished your own plate. you couldn't say you were hungry anymore, a hundred and one scenarios of what could go wrong in the hard launch of your relationship played in your mind.

lando's presence made it a little easier for you, though. you could only be thankful.

you had never traveled by plane before, so you were pretty nervous.

china was really far from monaco, and your boyfriend told you that the flight would take 11 hours minimum, so you couldn't help feeling anxious.

he held your hand when he noticed your strange behaviour and you immediately intertwined your fingers together.

"it's going to be okay, love." norris kissed the back of your hand and you walked inside of the plane, hand in hand.

of course lando booked the first class seats. he knew about this fear of yours, so whatever he could do to help you out, he would.

you sat down and lando closed the little blind on the window by his side, so you didn't see how far from the ground you were.

you had your headphones on and lando held you close as the plane started moving. you were still not off the ground but the plane shaking scared the fuck out of you. you closed your eyes and tried to focus on the music. it wasn't easy. it was only when the plain stabilized in the air that you could open your eyes again.

"do you want water, food, anything?" your boyfriend asked as he noticed you were a little more calm now.

"water, maybe." you answered, still not feeling completely safe. "and can you open the blind please, i want to see."

"'you sure?" he asked, his hand already on the end of the blind.

"yup."

lando opened up the blind and you peeked through the window. you were already far from the ground and instead of feeling anxiety, that view actually made you a little more calm.

"it's beautiful." you whispered, body leaning towards lando so you could see it better.

the british boy's eyes were on you when he whispered back. "it really is." with a smile.

eventually you sat properly in your seat again and talked to lando as time passed.

you fell asleep with and lando carefully laid your chair back, took out your headphones and covered you with a blanket. he laid his chair back as well and watched you as you slept peacefully. you still had nine hours left and he knew you would be awake for the landing, which he didn't want.

you could only manage to sleep for 2 hours and when you woke up, you noticed your boyfriend sleeping. so the next hours were spent playing games in your mobile phone while you listened to taylor swift.

it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be, and it was only when landing that you felt the uneasy feeling come back. lando held you close through it, as he was used to it.

"it's okay, baby." he whispered. "i'm right here." his reassurence meant more to you than he imagined, and it helped as well.

everything went better than expected and you left the airport hand in hand just half an hour after getting out of the plane.

you felt tired, but it was still morning in china. lando seemed okay, he was already used to all the time changes, since he did this for a living.

"what d'you think about breakfast?" he asked as you passed a coffee shop.

lando was driving to the hotel you two would be staying in, and you honestly just wanted to rest. but you could'nt say no to a good breakfast.

"oh, great idea. i'm starving." you said and he chuckled.

"me too." he stated as his hand found place in your thigh. it stayed there until he needed to use it, to change gear.

he parked the car in front of the cute shop and you both walked in.

you both ordered and sat down talking to eachother until the food came. the driver explained the goods and the bads of the race here. and told you what he liked most about china.

you had done some research about the place yourself because you wanted to take profit of your time here.

as lando would probably have some meetings with the team and you would be alone, you decided to visit some interesting places of the city and even near cities.

you ate in a comfortable silence and left for the hotel as soon as you could. his team took care of the check in so you and him were able to just go straight to your room.

you felt yourself a little too soft, but never said anything because you didn't think it was anything serious and worrying him was something you were not going to do.

deciding to take a nap before doing anything, lando wrapped his arms around you and pulled the blanket over your bodies.

"i love the feeling of having you here." he murmured to your ear.

"i love being here with you." you told him honestly, falling asleep some moments later.

lando though it was weird, since you normally took some time to get to sleep, specially in new places.

when you first stayed the night at his place it took you two hours and a really boring movie.

he remembered it could've been caused by the flight or the time difference. the british was now used to it, but it was your first time, and it was a long flight.

he fell asleep thinking about it because, being honest, you were both more than exhausted.

you woke up just a couple of hours later, coughing, and imediately realized you had gotten sick, and were just in the first stages. you got up from the bed and went to the bathroom so you didn't disturb lando's sleep.

"this can't be happening" you whispered to your reflection in the mirror.

'it can be just a cold, everything will be okay in time for the race' you thought to yourself, trying to calm down.

it was frustrating, to be fair. you had been avoiding coming to his races for months, and when you finally decided to come you got sick.

however, you did not want that to get in the way of lando's weekend, so through the next two days, in which your boyfriend had free practices and qualifying, you pretended to be okay. it was not so easy because norris made every effort to make you feel okay there. that means he talked to every one of his mates and asked them to talk to their own girlfriends, to see if they were interested in meeting you, for his delight but not so yours, they all said yes.

so you were not only busy with pretending to be healthy but also trying to be nice to everyone and making people like you.

it wasn't that hard, you all just found something in common, that was your love for fashion and animals, and talked about it. you were pretty satisfied with the outcome of saturday, and so was lando, managing to get himself on fourth position, with two cars ahead he knew he could get out of his way.

he was starting to find your behaviour a little weird, as soon as you got home you took a really quick shower and got yourself comfortable in bed. he asked you if you were not going to get dinner with him and you told him you would just take a little nap, and asked him to wake you up once the food arrived.

the brit did as you said and tried to wake you up, but you told him you were not hungry in the moment. he made you eat anyways, because tomorrow was a big day and you didn't really have the energy to argue with him.

you both had a good dinner and what was his surprise when you got back to your bed and immediately fell asleep.

he tried to push his suspicions away but he was seriously getting worried. he laid next to you and held you close with one arm, the other resting behind his head as he thought. not only about you and your strange sleeping schedule but also about the circuit.

there was this one curve that he just couldn't get right, and he needed to get it tomorrow. or else he'd lose his chance of a podium or even a win.

he would never want to lose a podium, but with you here, the pressure was different. he wanted to do better for you. he needed to, after dragging you all the way to a new country and making you face your fear of planes.

he eventually fell asleep, your body so close to his comforting him and calming his mind that was going probably faster than his car.

you woke up first, in the morning. but, unlike the other two days, where you managed to get it together and pretend you were okay, today you had a huge headache along with an unbearable malaise.

immediately realizing you were not okay, you decided to not go to the track with lando. you were still planing to go, yes, but later on, after you took some medicine and felt better.

he was a little reluctant in letting you all by yourself because something inside him still thought that something was off. sleeping a lot, not feeling hungry, avoiding his touch and kisses (you did that once, but he still took note), it all felt a little weird.

but you convinved him, telling him that he no longer had time to wait for you and you still needed to get dressed and do your makeup.

"i'm going. but message me as soon as you get to the track, please. i want to see your pretty face before getting in the car." he asked you, his beautiful green eyes focused on yours.

you nodded your head and he pecked your lips. smiling, he turned around and left the hotel room. you decided to take a shower to see if it helped in any way.

it didn't.

you grabbed your phone and searched for lando's personal assistant's contact. someone needed to be informed about this, but you didn't want to alarm your boyfriend just before the big moment of the weekend.

he was really sweet to you, and suggested you stayed in bed and watched the race from the hotel. you were a little apprehensive about how lando would feel about this but he tried to calm you down as best as he could, telling you he knew the driver would understand and probably even be more worried than anything else.

he also promised to only tell lando once he couldn't do anything about it. of course you had asked.

was he going to be pissed? probably. did he love you more than anything and would he forget about all the rest in order to check up on you? absolutely.

once he was told about it, the only thing he could do was text you, so he ran to his phone and quickly wrote a message to you.

'baby i was just informed. i'm so sorry for not noticing.'

your heart clenched in your chest as you read his text. it was not his fault and you felt bad for making him believe that it was.

'it's not your fault, lan. and i'm okay'

you added a little heart at the end and sent it, automatically seeing the 'read' under the blue text baloon.

'you sure?? i can get someone to get you to a doctor'

you smiled at the screen, behind that smile was the way he didn't even hesitate to show you he cared and he worried.

'there's no need, i took some medicine and i'm better now. but good luck on the race. i'll be rooting for you.'

on the other side of the screen, lando sighed, he hated that he couldn't do anything about it but knowing you were okay comforted him a little. so he smiled and typed to you.

'thanks babe! i will be coming back to you as soon as i can, promise you.'

you simply liked his message, letting him focus before the race.

on the bed, you watched the entire race, as you always did. and you were so genuinely happy and proud of him for finishing second, that for a couple of minutes you even forgot you were sick.

you watched the podium celebrations and couldn't help but notice that your boyfriend wasn't as happy as he should be. of course he smiled receiving the trophy, and sprayed champagne on the other podium sitters, which were max and checo, but you knew him, and his smile wasn't as wide as usual.

you sat through and watched the interviews on sky sports. it seemed that you were not the only one who noticed his under-excitement, because that was the first thing the journalist questioned.

"so, lando norris. you just came second here in china. first of all, congratulations. second of all i have got to tell you that all of us were expecting a different reaction from you. you don't seem very excited."

he looked at the woman behind the camera atentively, but anyone with functional eyes could see that his mind was elsewhere. he smiled briefly at the end of her statement.

"well, thank you. and yeah, i'm not in the best mood but that has nothing to do with the race. i know i did my best out there and gave everything i could. unfortunately, max was still there, but we'll keep working, as a team, to get to him."

he smiled and the interview continued, as usual he discussed some technical stuff and gave his perspective on some bits of the race.

"right now i just want to go back to the hotel, to my girlfriend, who isn't here because she got sick, and give her all the love she deserves."

he smiled to the camera and left, leaving the space for others. you saw him walking with oscar behind alonso, who was now giving his own interview.

it didn't take long before you got a message from him, telling you he managed to escape some media duties to go back to you.

you smiled to yourself before answering, and then distracted yourself until you heard the door being unlocked.

jumping from the bed, you rushed towards your boyfriend when he arrived.

"easy there, baby." lando pulled you into a hug, one of his hands in your hair while the other circled your body.

"amazing race, my love." you whispered into his neck. he smiled and when his grip loosened, his lips met yours in a quick but lovely kiss.

"you've got me worried sick, you muppet." he smiled, but looking into his green iris you knew he was serious.

"didn't mean to worry you, i'm sorry," he shook his head and softy kissed your temple.

"don't be sorry. but nex time it happens, let me know. i wouldn't have made you go to practices and quali, and you could've rested."

his fingers caressed your hair and he pulled you to lay your head in his chest. you would never know how worried he got, and how he could only rest his mind after having you in his arms.

"i just didn't want you to worry unnecessarily. i thought i could go through it." your eyes made it possible for him to know that you were being honest. he let out a sigh.

"it's not unnecessarily, you stubborn thing. i love you and i care about you, and i wanted to be here for you." you pull your head back and lock eyes with him.

"i love you too. and thank you."

he kissed you again, all smiley.

you both decided to just lay in bed and do nothing for the rest of the day. you ordered dinner hours earlier, so you didn't have to worry about it later.

lando told you all about his race. from the lights out to the checkered flag he talked you through his decisions and his process of thinking in the moment.

he also kept asking you from time to time how you were feeling and if you needed anything.

you realized just how much you loved him and appreciated the way he cared for you.

once he fell asleep, you smiled out of pure happiness for having him by your side. no matter how much you had liked being kept a secret for a while, in that moment all you wanted was for people to know you loved him.

cause you did, more than you thought you could.

© merchelsea

if you'd like to be tagged in any of my future works, let me know ;)

[wreckofawriter]

Only If You Catch Me

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred had always been frustrated by your endeavors with other men, especially other men that always looked quite a bit like him. after a disastrous mistake during quidditch practice you find yourself wondering how you had never seen fred Weasley in the light you saw him in now

word count: 4.4k

warnings: jealousy, language (maybe?), only proof read once so sorry for any mistakes!

a/n: this is my first big piece in ages, I hope you guys enjoy and im so sorry for my prolonged absence i fell off on writing for a while and im just now getting back to it

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

Some things were just facts, plain and simple; the sky is blue, two and two is four and you had a type.

“Another ginger I see.” Alicia murmured as you sat down across from her, pints of butter beer clinking together. Your eyes were locked with a pretty freckled boy by the bar. 

You huffed even though she was quite right, this must have been the third redhead that you set sights on this year. “Well William got boring and,” You paused wrinkling your nose, “-pushy” 

The Three Broomsticks was packed, the sounds of chatter and warmth guarding you from the icy cold of the blizzard that had swept through Hogsmeade. You and Alicia had joined the dozens of students seeking cover in the popular pub and quickly snagged a small table near a large fireplace where you now looked out on the sea of flushed faces and smiles. 

“With your type it's a wonder your last name isn’t Weasley.” Your friend chuckled and you laughed. 

“If I could have gotten my hands on Charlie, it would be.” You replied, your silly crush on the older Weasley brother lasting from your first year to what you were sure would be your last. 

Alicia giggled, taking a large swig from her pint, licking the foam off her top lip. “Why not one of the twins then?”

“What twins?” A voice asked from behind you.

“She couldn’t be talking about us now could she, Georgie?” Fred jested.

“No no,” The other replied, “I mean what could Spinnet possibly want from us?”

Alicia rolled her eyes with great effort, “Trust me when I say I want nothing to do with you. As for my friend here, I don't know if I can say the same.” she said with a smug grin and you sent her a furious look.

Fred smirked, leaning over the back of your chair, his large palms ghosting your shoulders, “Is that true? Do you need something from us?” He leaned in even further, his nose brushing your hair, “from me?”

You began to look a bit red as he pulled away, “Please Weasley,” you managed to scoff “since when do I need things from you? In fact, I believe you still have my Charms notes.”

Fred had come to stand in front of you now, George joining his side, “It's just that your notes are so much better for writing Flitwick’s essay. ” He argued. 

“You don’t even take notes.” You said, exasperated. 

“Exactly” The twins replied in unison. 

Alicia snickered beside you.

Chairs appeared and Fred and George sat. The table seemed half the size it was before as Fred's elbow knocked against yours.

“Made yourselves at home have you?” You spoke, wincing.

Fred just grinned and leaned purposefully closer, thighs now brushing.

You slid towards Alicia who was turning a laugh into a cough and set your eyes back on the boy with freckles. 

“You headed to the Slytherin match next weekend?” Alicia asked absently.

“Of course.” George replied, “I’ve bet Lee a galleon that Malfoy catches a bludger with his nose.” he chuckled,  “He reckons it’ll be his gut.” 

You all smiled at the idea, no one hated Malfoy more than those on the Gryffindor quidditch team. 

“We also have business to do.” Fred said, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“You don't have any more of those nosebleed nougats do you?” You asked, eyes still across the room, “I’ve got to get out of Binns’ class tomorrow.” 

Alicia's eyebrows shot up, you hardly missed History of Magic, or as you liked to call it, nap hour. “Why's that?”. 

“No reason.” You mumbled, intently staring into your butterbeer. 

Fred’s eyes darted between the two of you. 

“Of course we’ve got some.” grinned George, oblivious, “2 sickles a pei-.”

“Or for free if you tell us what you're up to.” Fred interrupted, catching a strange look from his brother. 

“I'm not up to anything!” You gasped with a bit too much enthusiasm. 

Alicias eyes had narrowed to slits and Fred had never looked more unconvinced. 

Your face began to grow hot and you found yourself wishing you had more grace in the act of lying.

“Oh come off it,” George said, “If she wants to snog Murphy instead of hearing about the seventh generation of goblin rebellions, who are we to judge?” 

You were glowing pink now, sending a vicious look at George who had taken to sipping his drink innocently. 

Fred looked appalled, his face contorted like he had just caught a whiff of something horrible, “Murphy!” 

“Keep your voice down.” You hissed angrily, glazing across the room again to be sure he hadn’t heard, “I'm trying to keep it quiet.” 

Fred was fuming, “Who wouldn’t, swapping spit with a git like that.” 

You scoffed, pulling out a small coin purse, “Can I just have some nougat?”

“Nope.” Fred responded, voice suddenly ferocious, “We’re out.”

You were beginning to grow frustrated, “George just said you had some.”

Fred glared at you, “We’re out.” he repeated his nose high in the air.

You turned to George looking for help but he threw you an I’m-not-getting-into-this look and you were forced to round back on Fred. 

You glared at each other for a moment before Fred caved, "Fine we’ve got some,” He huffed, “Three Galleons.” 

Your mouth dropped, “George said 2 sickles!”

He crossed his arms, “They’re in high demand.”

You stood, chair flying back into the wall with a loud crack, “You’re a complete prick.” you said sharply snatching your bag and sweeping past Fred and over to meet Finn Murphy  who was now standing to leave the pub. 

“Well I think you handled that well.” Alicia said, grinning at Fred who looked as though he had been slapped. 

George, who looked all too happy with himself for instigating such an interesting conversation, helped himself to the remains of your butterbeer as you and Murphy bowed out into the flurry of white followed closely by Fred’s glare.

“Looks as though she's gonna snog every redhead at school before you.” Alicia snicked. 

“Yeah,” George snorted, “You might want to keep an eye on Ginny.”

Alicia giggled even harder, pressing a hand to her lips in an attempt to keep her drink in her mouth. 

Fred could hardly hear them, too busy envisioning your latest with large boils all over his face or perhaps vomiting indefinitely. 

Alicia managed to contain herself and shot Fred a sympathetic glance, “I've been trying you know, I keep bringing you up but she seems far more interested in Charlie.” 

“Charlie!” He guffawed, “But he's been gone for ages!”

“Well he seemed to have made quite the impression.” Alicia chuckled. 

“He was captain when she was appointed to the team.” George pointed out. 

“Yeah when she was TWELVE” Fred gasped. 

Alicia couldn’t help it, she had started laughing again, “Relax,” She spoke between breaths, “It’s just a silly school girl crush.” 

Fred looked unconvinced and began to tap his heel incessantly against the floor.

“Take it as a complement!” She continued, “Charlie looks quite a bit like you, I mean you are related after all.” 

Fred was not taking it as pleasantly as she suggested and began to rap his foot on the ground even faster, “We’ve got to do something.” 

“We?” George snorted, “This is all you mate. I’m not the one in love with her.” 

Freds ears grew pink, “I’m not in love with her!” he sputtered. 

“Whatever you say.” Alicia spoke rolling her eyes.

The truth was that if Fred wasn't in love with you, he was so close he may as well have been. At the very least he had been pining after you for years and he had never been particularly quiet about it. In fact he was the opposite of quiet about it. His flirtatious remarks and dazzling complements were quite consistent. Unfortunately so was his coursing jealousy as you paraded around with boy after boy who was not him.  Every year he swore would be the year. The year where you finally realized it was him you needed and all would be right in Fred's world. But time and time again he failed as you walked out the door with a different redhead. He was growing nervous, his seventh year was upon him and this may be his last chance before you were all carted off in different directions never to see each other again. The frustration of it all was turning him bitter.

That night Fred lay awake on his four-poster, staring at the ceiling venomously. What was it? He wondered, What was it that he didn't have that every other ginger you knew seemed to possess? Why was it never him pulling you into broom closets and meeting you after classes? What was he doing wrong? His thoughts spun until he drifted into an uneasy slumber. 

By the time he arrived at the quidditch pitch for practice the next morning, the rest of the team was already changing into their robes as Angilina scribbled vigorously on the chalkboard in front of them, already changed and ready. 

“Fred!” She shouted watching him try to sneak his way into the bustle of the team unnoticed, “What took so long? I was beginning to think I would have to send George back up to wake you.” 

He shrugged, “Sorry Cap, I didn’t get much sleep last night if you know what I mean.” he winked at her and she looked sorely unamused. 

You on the other hand perked up at the insinuation, finally looking at the twin who, in protest of his behavior the day before, you had been ignoring. 

“She gets what I mean,” He smirked nodding towards you, “Up late with Murphy boy last night?” He asked viciously. 

You flushed as the changing room filled with chuckles. 

“Murphy?” Angelina asked, turning to you, “Isn’t he a bit,” She paused, “dim?” 

You scowled at Fred silently before snatching your broom from the rack and marching so quickly out onto the pitch that you hadn’t even noticed you had hit Harry in the temple with its handle. 

As Potter groaned in pain and fixed his askew glasses Fred looked over to Alicia who was shaking her head slightly. As the rest of the team slowly followed you out onto the field she and George made their way towards him. 

“You’re an idiot.” Alicia groaned, “No wonder she won’t go out with you.”  

George chuckled.

Fred glared at the pair, “It’s not my fault she insists on only snogging boys who are 'a bit dim.'" he spoke, mocking Angelina.

“I know that this may be hard to wrap your head around,” Alicia spoke sharply, “But maybe she went out with Murphy because he was, ya know, nice to her.” She then shouldered past the twins leaving Fred gapping at his brother desperately. 

The day was crisp, the heavy licks of winter drawn in by a bitter wind. But the sky was clear and the sun was out, much to everyone’s appreciation. 

Fred mounted his broom still angry, feeling foolish for upsetting you yet again as you stood with your back to him defiantly. 

The whistle blew and the balls were released as the team kicked off, snow flying in all directions as you did so. 

Fred's head was not in practice as it should have been but instead on you, watching you speed towards the goal posts with the quaffle already under your arm. You scored easily on Ron with a feign left.

Fred was so absorbed in you that he had completely forgotten about the bludgers, one of which was hurtling at him with frightening speed. With little time to react he swung his bat wildly and pitched the bludger in the opposite direction, which with a sickening feeling he realized was right at you. 

He tried to shout but you must not have heard him over the howling of wind in your ears. Because when the bludger struck you heavily between the shoulder blades you were completely unprepared. Your vision danced as the air was knocked from your lungs. You were flung from your broom with a shriek and began to plummet.

Fred streamed after you, urging his broom towards the ground with a frightening speed. His Cleansweep shuttered under the immense pressure he suddenly held it in and never before had Fred wished so badly for Potters Firebolt. 

He managed to get beneath you mere feet from the ground. The force at which you hit him knocked you both into the snow with a heavy thud, and there was a sickening sound as his broom snapped in two. 

Neither of you moved for a moment, the snow settling around you and beginning to melt through your robes. 

“Are you alright?” Fred asked and was struck with panic when you did not respond. He sat up quickly pulling you with him, your legs tangled together in the snow. He called your name desperately, hands holding your face as you lay limp in his arms. 

Angelina landed beside the pair followed closely by George and Alicia both of whom were wearing nervous expressions. 

“Y/n!” Fred shouted again, tears stinging his eyes, fear gripping his throat like a vice. He was moments away from shaking you when your eyes slowly peeled open. 

“Fred?” You mumbled, confused. 

The boy let out a barking laugh of relief and then dove into a hug, almost knocking you back to the ground. 

Bewildered, you returned his embrace and realized quite suddenly how much larger than you Fred really was. You practically disappeared into his chest, his broad shoulders shielding you from the wind that whipped across the pitch. You felt frighteningly warm listening to his heart beat quickly beneath his robes. Your cheeks were hot as he pulled away from you and began to search for any look of pain or damage on your face. 

“Are you alright love?” He asked again and was washed with relief when you nodded. 

As you fully realized what was going on around you, you gasped, pulling the handle of Fred's broom out of the snow.

“Your broom!” You looked horrified, “Fred, your broom broke!” 

Fred on the other hand brushed it off helping you to your feet and beginning to pat the snow off your robes, “It’s alright, I’m sure it's fixable.” he shrugged, “Listen, I am so s-”

But before Fred could finish his apology George burst between the two of you, “I am so sorry!” He spoke hurriedly, “The bludger caught me off guard. I swear I wasn’t aiming for you.” 

You chuckled, giving George a pat on the shoulder, “I sure hope not, but 's not me you should be apologizing to anyway.” You said, “It's Fred’s broom that broke.”  

George did not issue his brother any regrets and instead sent him a wink, whipping his wand out of robes and shouting “Repairo!”

The broom snapped back together and Angelina, who was desperate to get back in the air, looked to you, “You alright then?” 

You nodded with a grin and turned back to Fred who was testing the strength of his brother's repair. 

“Thank you so much Fred,” You gushed, looking up at him through your lashes. 

The boy's heart skipped a beat, stomach lurching, “It was no problem really.” He breathed and miraculously found you in his arms for the second time as you lunged towards him.

“Thank you.” You murmured into his robes before disconnecting and swiftly boarding your broom again. 

Fred watched you leave struck for a moment. Alicia shot him a thumbs up and a grin before he was able to clumsily climb onto his own broom and follow you back up into the air. 

By dinner the story of your fall had been told and retold so many times that you were now said to have plummeted upwards of a hundred meters before Fred had heroically scooped you onto his own broom, saving what was sure to be your life. 

In the great hall you kept getting asked if you were okay as down the table Fred got clapped on the shoulder and congratulated for his great save. He seemed to be enjoying the new story a fair bit more than you were. 

Finn had come over to ask about you halfway through dinner but you found suddenly that he was no less than boring and he returned to the Hufflepuff table after a few short minutes with a look of disappointment on his face. 

Fred watched this with such delight he was sure he was glowing. George -who he had been applauding as the best wingman one could ask for all day- poked him hard in the side and pointed down the table to where you sat. Fred turned to catch your eyes already on him. He winked exuberantly and you turned away with a scoff, but your cheeks had taken a rather deep shade of red. 

He grinned so wide at George he thought his lips might split, “I mean this is some real progress!” He cheered, “Did you see that? She was staring at me!” 

Down the hall you turned to Alicia, cheeks still pink, “Have you ever noticed how tall Fred is?” You asked so suddenly she choked on her pumpkin juice. 

You stared at her curiously as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve smiling, “Oh yeah very tall.”

You hummed looking back down the table at the elder twin who was now laughing wildly at something Lee had said, “I guess I never really thought about it before.” 

Angilina shot Alicia a glance as you were distracted and the two of them broke out into giggles. 

“What?” You demanded though you were still smiling. 

“Oh nothing.” Angilina grinned and you huffed turning back to your dinner. 

You found yourself wishing Fred had chosen to sit a bit closer to you as you watched a group of girls across from him break out into giggles at something he said, “There's no way he's that funny.” You muttered knowing he in fact was. 

  Yet you couldn’t find yourself being all that jealous as he kept glancing up at you, as if checking to make sure you were still watching him and much to his delight you always were. His shoulders, you noticed from where you sat picking at plum pudding, were quite wide, his arms toned. It was no wonder that he had engulfed you completely out on the pitch. 

How had I never noticed this before? You found yourself wondering. How had he managed to escape your list of potential suitors when he was so obviously perfect for you?

The thought struck you rather abruptly and while you would have liked to have sat with it for a minute, Alicia was standing and you knew it was time to head back to the common room. 

As students began to flood from the hall you fiddled with the sleeves of your robes, thoughts full of brown eyes and freckles . 

As if summoned, Fred appeared at your side grinning widely, “Hello.”

“Hey Fred,” replied Alicia. 

“Have you guys heard the news?” He asked, throwing an arm around your shoulder. You tried hard not to blush and instead shook your head, staring at the floor. “Apparently, you owe me your life.” He was beaming down at you now and you found it hard to look away. 

“Oh yeah?” You smirked, “And I heard it was actually you who hit me with that bludger.” 

His smile disappeared only momentarily and you were happy to see it recover so quickly. 

“Ah well, I figured Angelina wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.” He shrugged, “Though I swear if I had a choice I would have knocked her off her broom instead.” 

And for the first time that evening jealousy took you strongly, “Oh yeah? I suppose she would have been a bit more fun to catch then?” 

Fred looked startled by your bristly reaction, “Nah,” He responded, “That would have been Georgie’s job.” 

You were satisfied with this answer and felt yourself leaning against him as you began up towards the tower.

George was delighted to see you still tucked beneath his brother's arm when you reached the common room. He called you over to where he sat and you placed yourself in a large squishy armchair as Fred perched himself beside you on an ottoman. 

You spent your evening rather uneventfully, finishing an essay for Snape as the Gryffindors slowly filtered off to bed in pairs. When George rose to take himself to the dormitory you expected Fred to follow but instead he stayed rooted by your feet where he now sat cross legged on the carpet looking over what looked like an extensive order form. 

Hours later you yawned, stretching when you finally finished your work. It was now well past midnight and only a few fifth years remained, cramming for a quiz in transfiguration the next day. You turned to look at Fred who had long since sprawled himself across the couch before the fire and found him snoring softly. 

A jolt of infatuation made your stomach flip. His messy hair glowed shockingly bright in the fire light, his pink lips slightly agape. You gathered your things slowly, sure not to wake him before you stood beside him.

You knew you should wake him, you were the reason he had not retreated to bed after all. But he looked so peaceful like this, so soft. Instead you found yourself slowly counting the freckles that sprawled across his cheeks, leaning close to brush a strand of his bright red hair out of his face. He woke immediately at your touch, large brown eyes locking with your own.

You felt your cheeks go hot, “You should go up to bed.” You mumbled beginning to pull away. 

He snatched your wrist with such haste it took you by surprise, “Do that again.” he spoke.

You furrowed your brow, “What?” 

“With my hair,” It was his turn to blush now, “Touch my hair again.” 

It felt as though the air was sucked from your lungs yet you found yourself obeying, fingers coming to comb through the soft waves that spread across his forehead. 

He hummed, leaning into your touch slowly, gaze still locked with yours. The two of you stayed there for a moment, you kneeling beside him fingers in his hair, his hand still loosely wrapped around your wrist. 

“I’m sorry.” He murmured and you looked at him confused. 

“For what?” 

“Hitting you with a bludger.” he responded remorsefully. 

You laughed softly, your head thrown back, “It's okay Fred.” you grinned. You were close now, so close Fred could feel the tickle of your breath on his cheek, “I forgive you. You made up for it after all.” 

He smirked in spite of himself, “I suppose I did, saving your life and all.” 

You were giggling again and Fred was sure he was in some beautiful dream where all he could ever hear or see was your joy. 

“I wouldn’t push your luck if I were you.” You grinned, “I may just chuck the quaffle at your head when you're not looking.” 

“Only if you catch me when I fall.” Fred whispered, leaning closer still. 

You let him, your lips connecting slowly. You were pleased to find he was a fantastic kisser, his lips soft and plush, eager to please. His free hand cupped your cheek as he pulled you closer still until you were practically on top of him.

One of the alarm clocks the fifth years had been attempting to turn to roosters burst to life and you pulled away abruptly remembering bitterly that you and him were not the only ones in the room. Fred chased after your lips with his own desperate for even a moment more with your mouth.

“You should get to bed.” You repeated standing now, knees a bit shaky. 

Fred was disappointed by your departure but grinned wildly nonetheless as you gathered your books into your arms and turned back to him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow Fred.” You yawned and began up the stairs to your dormitory determined not to let him see the childish glee that had spread across your face. 

“Wait!” He called after you, lurching from the couch and stopping at the bottom of the steps. 

You turned back to him taking in the wonderful sight of him staring lovingly up at you. He looked delightfully disheveled, his hair a mess and his lips swollen from your touch. You took two steps down now only one above where he stood on the hardwood floor.

You looked down at him expectantly as his eyes bore into your own. 

He lifted himself onto his toes and grabbed your shoulders forcinging you forward where you connected for a second time. 

This time his breath was hot and heavy on your lips, his earnest intensifying to a level that you could only describe as hunger. Your feet dangled momentarily in the air as he lifted you fervently into his embrace. You were suddenly engulfed in Fred again, he was all you could smell sweet and cinnamon, all you could hear were his pants in your ear, all you could feel was him, his arms around your middle, his thigh pressed between your legs and his lips and tongue working so well together that it was you who chased after him this time, whining in protest when he pulled back.

You stared at him, out of breath and stunned to silence. 

Fred looked as though he had just won something very expensive the way he was grinning with triumph, his eyes dark with lust. 

 “Sweet dreams love.” He murmured leaning down to give you one final kiss, his lips moving sickeningly slow against your own, wet and warm. He hovered inches form your lips for a moment, as if debating diving back in, before he backed away tucking his hands casually into his robes.

“You should go to bed, love.” He smirked, “We’ve got an early practice tomorrow and I do believe you made me a promise about knocking me off my broom.” 

You bit your lip to keep from breaking into girlish giggles. Your heart was still pounding as though you had just run a long race. 

“Only if you swear to catch me though.” He added with a wink.

“I’ll always catch you Freddie.” you assured him before turning and hurrying back up the stairs, grinning so wide your cheeks had begun to ache.

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

taglist: @accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-dood13 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @sarcasticallywitty @rosieweasley @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys @evyiione

m.list

[pellucid-constellations]

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 

One minute. 

Two minutes. 

The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 

Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 

He was lucky you accepted bribes. 

~~

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 

Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.” 

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 

The duality of man. 

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 

~~

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 

He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 

“M’not even that drunk!” 

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 

“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 

“So much.” 

“How much?” 

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” 

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 

“Would you let me?” he responds. 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

~~

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 

From: University Peer Assistance Program 

Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 

Thank you, 

University Peer Assistance 

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 

His mistake. 

That word felt wrong. 

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 

Ice cream would fix this. 

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 

“Nice outfit.” 

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 

“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 

“Please let go of me.” 

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 

“Look at me, y/n.” 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 

“Of course.” 

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 

“You get harassed all the time too?” 

“No…” 

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 

“Bucky—” 

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 

“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—” 

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

[hoshigray]

Pleasurable Practice

Here's what I got: when you're left in headquarters to study for an upcoming language skit, your boss and work crush, Miguel O'Hara, does what he can to help his subordinate. And he does, in more ways than one...

A/n: It's been a week since I saw the film in theaters, and my brain hasn't been the same. I tried very hard not to write for this man, but here we are. Sighhhh, I swear I wasn't this bad when playing EoT (curse you Oscar Issac, and the ATSV art department!!!). And it doesn't help that my social feeds are full of him...Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! It's WAY longer than I wanted, but I guess that's meant to show how much fun I had writing, hehehe~. Also, ty so so much for 600+ followers!!

Cw: Miguel x fem!reader - some ATSV spoilers so tread carefully - sexual context so minors DNI - fingering (fem! receiving) - cunnilingus - clitoral play (Miguel's fangs lightly brush your clit, but doesn't bite it) - praise - kisses on the stomach - pet names (amorcito/little love, mi alma/my soul; amor/my love; vida/my life) - sexual acts in public - outside intrusions, but you two don't get caught.

Wc: 2.8k

"Hey, Lyla. You sure you wanna leave me here?"

"Aww, you scared something would happen without me?" She chuckles when you shrug. "You'll be fine; everything's been taken care of for today. If something pops outta nowhere, you know where to find Miguel or give me a call. Alright, I'm outta here. Cya tomorrow~."

"Bye, Lyla~" With that, the pixelated woman signs off from your line of sight, and you slump into your chair with a sigh.

It's late at night in Nueva York. The Spider Society headquarters is still active, but fewer people occupy the halls and sectors in these late hours, you being one of them. You're sitting at a conference table by the teleportation room, taking in Margo's shift. But since things are quiet around here, you use this time to work on your homework.

Well, you would've if a pair of hands didn't suddenly come from behind and blocked your vision. "Guess who?"

You shake your head with a smile. "Aren't you supposed to be at Earth-50101 hanging with Gwen and Pav?"

The hands are removed, giving your shoulders a quick rub. "Can't say a quick bye before I'm off?" Hobie Brown walks from behind to sit on the table, avoiding the scattered papers on the surface. "What's all this? School?"

"Yeah," You pick up a paper with color-coordinated dialogues. " I got a reflection to finish and need to read this script for a skit in my modern language class on Wednesday."

"What language?"

"Spanish." You flip the script for him to look at. A giggle slips from you. "Suppose you can't help me, huh?"

Hobie grins. "Yo lo haría si pudiera." Your eyes go big. Of course, the guy who "doesn't believe in consistency" would know a thing or two about other languages.

".....Please stay and help me."

"Can't, perhaps next time." Another heavy sigh as the tall other gets up from the table and opens a portal to Pavitr's universe. "We'll save some snacks to bring back tomorrow. See ya then."

"Bye, Hobie." You groan with your head meeting the table surface as the portal vanishes with Hobie's dismissal. In despair, you lift your head up and proceed with your work.

It's about 11 p.m., and you were able to finish your paper in about two hours. It's now time to work on your Spanish script. Unfortunately, your class partner can't be here (obviously) to say his lines with you, but you two promised to highlight your lines and recite on your own downtime. So you follow through with the blue lines — your lines — avoiding the red lines and announcing all the words to the best you can.

After the third time around, you start to get to the rhythm of it. So in tune with what you're doing, you don't mind your surroundings as you circle around the table with your face glued to your script.

"What're you doing?"

However, it all comes to a halt when a voice startles you. So used to the silence and your own tone that you didn't notice a familiar man creep from behind you. Your eyes widen at the tall and well-built figure before you.

Miguel O'Hara, Spider-Man 2099 and the leader of the Spider Society — your boss who you have a major crush on and is still waiting for you to reply after nearly scaring you to death.

"O-Oh, Miguel, umm," you quickly straighten yourself up, but the heat in your face encroaches. "Sorry, didn't see ya there. I was just looking at this script."

"A script?" He slightly tilts his head, surveying your moves as you sit back at the table. He follows and peers behind your shoulder to see what you're working on. "For what?"

"It's for a skit in my Spanish class. I'm reciting my lines for Wednesday." He nods at your answer, glancing around to see you're alone. "Lyla signed off for a while, but she told me to tell you that if you 'need anyone to put a leash on you,' Jessica would answer the call."

The man narrowed his eyes and sucked his teeth, "of course she said that..." was all he murmured under his breath from his pixelated peer's words. With a heavy sigh, he turns back to the paper in your hand and extends out his. His silent request is answered when you pass him the sheet to skim. A brow is lifted. "Is the skit like some kind of married couple or—"

You confirm. "Yes. Our unit is on relationships, and my partner and I wanted to do a skit where the husband — my partner — comes home and surprises his wife with their favorite flower and then gives a nice speech on how much he loves her." Miguel still reads the script, but you continue on. "Luckily, our instructor said it's not our final where it's required to talk entirely in Spanish. So, we can say some English phrases or words if our brains go blank."

Miguel finally stops examining the script and eyes at you. "I can help."

Huh? "Excuse me?"

"You're the blue lines, right?" Correct. "Then I can be the red lines and help you practice."

Wait, no! "Oh no, there's no need for that, Miguel! I'm sure you're busy looking at the screens on your station and—"

"No pasa nada, Y/n," You gulp when he grabs a chair and sits close to you. "I'll say your partner's parts, and you reply with yours." There's no use in arguing with him out of this, so you just follow suit.

For the past thirty minutes, you and Miguel have been practicing. Sometimes he'll call you out on words you forget or mispronounce, which hurts your little heart being scolded like a child. But then there are times when he praises you for saying something correctly without second-guessing, or he'll ask for a pen to scratch off something and write a better phrase for you to say. And you can tell that your memorization's been improving thanks to his help. Maybe there was no need to be nervous.

The time is now 11:46, and you feel way more confident about this skit than before. Miguel can also tell by how much you've performed that you'll do fine on Wednesday. Guess that should do it. He puts the script down and gets up, heading back to his original post.

"Hey, wanna do the actual skit with me?"

Huh? "What?"

"Well, I was thinking," You squeak. "Maybe we can try acting out the skit without the paper now that I'm kinda getting the hang of it? But, I mean, that's only if you're okay with it, ya know..."

His brows trench down. Miguel knows he shouldn't do it; there are many universes in his post that he needs to keep an eye on in case anything pops off. He can't afford to just act out a scenario for some class. However, when he glances back at you, he faces mixed feelings. Your eyes look at his, nibbling on your bottom lip, and your fingers fidget with each other as you wait for his answer.

Miguel knows he shouldn't...but it won't hurt to comply this one time.

"Fine," your heart skips when he turns back to face you fully. "But don't mention it to Lyla or Jess. I'll never hear the end of it from those two."

"Of course!" You reassure him as you ready yourself, mentally calming the happiness brewing inside down. "You go."

He nods and plays the scene. He acts like he opens a door and holds an imaginary object. "Estoy en casa, cariño."

"Oh, bienvenido a casa, bebé!" You rush to Miguel and give him a hug. You feel him go rigid, and you freeze. Wait, he's still my boss and not my actual partner! Oh, God, I bet he regrets doing this now...Ughhh!! Commit now, cry later!

You quickly improvise and pull him by his spider suit to come close, placing pretend kisses on his cheeks. "Llegas pronto a casa, mi guapo muñeco. Is something wrong?"

Miguel stares at you for a few seconds before he blinks and coughs. "Ahem, Querida, vine temprano porque es tu cumpleaños. Y quería darte esto." The hand with the invisible object comes up, and you take it.

"Dios mío, ¿mi flor favorita en mi día especial?" You give the man a warm smile and place a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin lovingly. Miguel hitches his breath. "Eres demasiado buena conmigo, muñeco. Pero no tenías que regalarme nada."

It takes Miguel a moment, but he coughs once more and returns to the task. "Puede que la flor no fuera necesaria, pero tenía que conseguirla para ti, mi amor." He puts a hand on yours that's still on his cheek, now it's your turn to slow your breathing. "Cada vez que veo esta flor, sólo puedo pensar en ti. No sólo hoy, sino todos los días. Veo todo lo que haces por mí y nunca lo doy por sentado. You are my everything, Y/n. Tú eres mi mundo. Mi luz. Mi corazón. Mi… Mi…"

He stops, noticing your expression and shallow breaths. Your eyes never leave his, mouth agape, and your attention entirely on his words— no, on him. Even in this little act, you dare not move or say something out of turn. Listening to the man before you intently, your hand still in his.

He knows he shouldn't, but Miguel leans into you, and a small gasp leaves you before his lips press onto your soft ones. "....Mi alma."

Your brain short-circuits, the feel of his lips overtaking you. You awkwardly kiss him back, resulting in a moan from Miguel. He grabs your waist while pushing himself forward, making you walk backwards until you hit the table. The bump has you two break the kiss, forcing you back to reality.

Miguel says nothing, and so do you, your eyes honing in on his deep red orbs. Your thoughts go too fast that your head pounds. What? What was that? Did he mean to do that??

"Túmbate."

He captures your attention. "What?"

"Lie down, mi amor." He commands in a stern voice. Hesitance restrains you, yet you still follow orders and sit on the table with your back to the surface. A small smile creeps up on Miguel, and he leans down to plant more kisses on your sweet lips. "Good. Now, say your part."

Slow smooches from your chin to your neck leave you breathless. Although the heat in your face is unbearable, you play along and stick to the script. "My wonderful husband...Y...You are so thought—"

"Se supone que está en español, Y/n." He corrects you. Lifting your shirt to reveal your abdomen. Miguel kisses your exposed tummy while his hand snakes past your bottoms, pressing a finger down on the wet spot of your clothed vulva. Your toes curl as your first moan leaves puffy lips. "Try again."

You intake a deep breath. "Ere...Eres muy considerado con—Mmmm....conmigo." Your bottoms and undergarments are now off, your bare cunt out for Miguel to see. The older man props your legs upward with both hands as he brings his face close to your pussy. He lightly blows on it, and you bite your lip from the cold air. "Keep going, mi vida."

"Cuando....no haya luz en mi—Oooh!!" Miguel flicks your clitoris with his tongue before nestling it between your soaked folds, sucking and laving your essence. "Nnnmp! Mi-Miguel, I can't do thisss...Your tongue, it feels so, so—Oh Christ..."

His ruby eyes peek at your face. "But you were doing just fine, Y/n." The way he says your name feels so sinful, so forbidden. But so pleasing to the ears. "Repeat it."

His tongue goes back to torment your slit. The risque noises the wet muscle makes with your slick-covered chasm ring your eardrums. Ecstatic whimpers fill the space around you, and you grab tufts of Miguel's brown hair when his tongue flicks your clit again. He's impatient, so you concede.

"Cuando no haya luz en mi vida....Haaaahhh, sé que estarás ahí para protegerme." Miguel pushes your tender bud against his teeth. His canine brushing on your pearl, causing you to jerk. "Eres mi sombra...Mi—Ahhhh!....escudo....Mi rey."

He chortles, "Good job, mi alma."

Satisfied with your cooperation, the man sucks on your precious sex as his forefinger nestles between your folds, your slick providing lubricant to naturally push his digit through your entrance. You jolt with a sharp cry, tears falling from your beautiful face.

His tongue and fingers go faster, and your release climbs higher with every lick. The stimulation of your poor cunt and clitoris is hardcore that you come in a few seconds, the walls of your chasm fluttering around Miguel's fingers coated with your personal fluids.

Your heavy pants slow down to steady your body that subsides from the aftershocks of your orgasm. Miguel withdraws his mouth and fingers from you, standing upright to take in your figure.

He scoffs with a tiny grin, licking his lips. "Amorcito."

You open your mouth to say something, but a flash of colors and shapes captures the attention of both of you. Your eyes go wide. Oh no, someone's coming!

With haste, you immediately grab for your bottoms and underwear before taking cover under the conference table, using it to quickly put your clothes back on before someone enters through the portal. That someone was Jessica Drew, making her arrival known by revving her motorbike.

"Jess," Miguel puts on his usually serious face. But on the inside, he's almost as nervous as you. Because he swiftly pulls a chair out to cover his erection lower regions.

"Hey, Miguel! I thought I'd find you here." The woman addresses him when she's done a lap around the table. Her portal vanishes from the scene. "I've been trying to call you through your watch. You not wearing it?"

He looks down at his wrist where it was supposed to be. "...I was using the restroom, so I left it on my station."

"Mmm, I figured." Jessica then notices the paper and backpack on the table. "This is Y/n's stuff, right? Where are they?"

"R-Right here, Jess!" To her surprise, you come out from the table with your bottoms fully secured. "Sorry, I was looking for my pen before packing up." You smile to ease the awkward tension and your racing heart.

"Oh, okay then." Jessica nods to your words and turns to Miguel. "Anyway, I was calling you up because I need backup. The guy I was dealing with somehow switched places with another villain. Took care of the other one, but my guy's elsewhere."

He hums. "Lyla."

"That's me." The yellow-pixelated woman with pink heart-shaped glasses appears once more.

"Where are the coordinates of the anomaly Jess was handling?"

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what?"

"...."

"What's the magic word?" The tiny woman teases him while you and Jessica hold in your laughs.

Miguel's brows furrow with a slight pout. "....Canyoupleasesend—"

"Woah, woah, woah," Lyla gets closer to his face with each word, raising his irritation as she does so. "Little too fast there."

"Can you please give us the co—"

"Already gave it to Jess."

"Then what was the point—"

"You know how much I love to pester ya," her smile doesn't help squander his frustration, not when he also hears the exchanged giggles between you and Jessica. "And call that payback for not having your watch on you."

To avoid their eyes seeing Miguel's situation, he leaves and fetches his watch quickly after being repeatedly teased by the two women. He returns ready with his mask on and the device on his wrist. Lyla and Jess are waiting for him, same with you and all your stuff packed up. It's 12 in the morning now, you have to get home. "Ready?"

"Yup, see ya there." The woman on her bike starts it up. Lyla disappears when the dimension is opened. "Bye, Y/n!"

"Bye, Jess!" You wave goodbye to the woman, who does one final lap before entering the portal to her new destination. And now you're back to being alone with Miguel, who you find looking at you. You gulp and say your thoughts. "Don't worry, I didn't tell them! And, sorry that it happened. I was being a little too close to you in the first—"

"Hey." Miguel lifts a hand to stop you from rambling on further, and you listen. "Your skit. When is it again?"

It takes you aback that he asks, but you still reply. "Wednesday?"

"Hm. Alright then." And with that, he walks to the portal to his next mission. But before he exits, he peers from his shoulder and proclaims something.

"Tell me how you did on Wednesday, then we'll continue with this talk."

[suguru-getos]

Hi En I had an idea which I can’t get off my mind it’s eating me alive it’s making me pounce on my pillow and screech wildly. Hear me out- bully Getou with a who did this to you moment 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

oh my goddd ‼️ 🥵 this sounds like such a good idea, especially with bully!geto 🙈

-> who did this to you? — geto suguru

summary: bully!sugu notices you were also becoming a target for others & kicks ass for you x (comments and reblogs are appreciated)

just because suguru thought he had free reign over you, so did another brat from his class. you were his junior after all and only satoru knew that he actually doted on you. suguru was getting restless for the day, he hasn’t seen his pretty little babygirl today. sure, he loves the look when your eyes try to evade eye contact from his stern gaze. when he says you need to be put in place for looking so delectable. when he teasingly calls you a little whore for suguru’s attention.

you deflected him so many times but his persistence has led to your ignorance. though he can’t find you anymore. his best friend satoru is quick though, “she’s near the store room hallway.” he hums, shrugging. why were you there? were you trying to run from suguru? he scoffed, pouting a little and ushering towards the known location.

finally, what he saw made his heart clutch a little. it’s december, you’re shivering from cold because someone had drenched your white shirt, your red bra is visible from it instantly and you hug yourself. you want to cry but you know that wouldn’t really help you. so you just sit there, shivering and spasming and knowing you’d catch a fever soon.

the echoes of his footsteps distract you instantly, you turned back, watching him and wanting to kill yourself. suguru would make such fun of you for being so miserable & looking so miserable. so weak and pathetic. “you think i did this for your attention too? yeah i did it, now leave me alone.” you managed to croak with your chattering teeth.

he hums, cupping your face and blood boiling when he found you cold. “let’s get you a blanket first, then you will go to the infirmary and change it. you’ll catch a cold and fall sick & we don’t want that do we? we have our exams soon, little girl.”

you can’t help but nod in affirmation, feeling a little taken cared of by him. though you think it was done by suguru… “yeah, don’t act like you didn’t ask your classmates to put ice cold water on me.” you were glossy eyed and felt pathetic. “you’ve let others joined in your-”

“who did this?” suguru was stern, almost unrelenting with the way his brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. you wince at the demeanour change and looked up at him, pouting with your glossed eyes.

“stop pretending-”

“i asked you something little one. who did this?” he asked once more, a little tender. “who did this to you?”

you parted your lips to finally mumble that you infact, don’t know who these people were. you have seen them around satosugu and hence you know they are his classmates. suguru sighs, his rage knew no bounds. his pretty little girl only he could bully, was taken lightly because of his behavior. he hums, carrying you princess-style, as a statement that you’re not to be fucked with. the most popular guy in school was whipped and carrying you as if you were his prized possession. the school saw it, everyone saw it. you… saw it.

you had time to change and when you were done, satoru brought you hot chocolate, smiling and headpatting you. “yer going to be fine little girl. i know suguru wouldn’t let anyone irritate ya! only us!” he grins, sitting beside you.

“now, he’s gone to bring all the bastards and bootlickers around us, so you can recognize them and let us deal with it, easy? no?” satoru smiles, giving you some comfort as you nodded. “mm, yeah…”

and suguru did bring them, the people who did this to you looked terrified, the same way you felt around suguru in the beginning. only suguru never really gave you any reason to… you thought he’d hit you for rejecting him but he never did. never raised a voice on you. but yes; loomed around you, commented on your body, your face, everything… suguru was a piece of shit with morals. yeah — that’s how you’d label him.

you pointed at the guys who gave the mere explaination before getting their ass brutally whopped in front of you that they thought suguru did it, which gave them a free pass to. while their noses bled and they mumbled apologies from suguru’s kicks and sickly behavior of - “sorry, she can’t hear you.”

you heard him mumble, “she’s mine to toy with, you fuckers can’t touch her or i’ll rip your hands and legs out.” suguru geto was indeed, a piece of shit with morals.

[metranart]

Jealous! Gojo Satoru

jealous! Gojo who ignores Geto's advice, to give you time to adapt and be friends first before starting to woo you.

jealous! Gojo who practically melts every time you bite the tip of your pencil while trying to understand something particularly difficult in class. 

jealous! Gojo who growls under his breath when he finds you in Nanami's arms after receiving some distressing news. Unable to think straight, gets dangerously close to lash out at the goodhearted blonde just to become an utterly inoffensive kitten, the moment he sees the tears in your eyes.

jealous! Gojo who not so discreetly asks for your number and pretends that it is for another reason other than his torrid crush on you but ends up sending you good morning and goodnight messages and all kinds of cat memes where he replaces the head with Suguru's photo.

jealous! Gojo who goes through your socials as soon as he has the chance and can’t help but grin like a maniac when he sees a picture of you. You have him at your mercy. You’re gorgeous, no! you are perfect to him! he just wants you all to himself.

jealous! Gojo who always tries to be one step ahead so that your missions are always with him, not with Suguru, not with Nanami, not with Yu...only with him, since if he is honest, he does not trust them around you.

jealous! Gojo who believes that he is slowly making his way into your heart, but he only ends up more madly in love with you, until one day he can't resist it anymore and holds your hand... and to his surprise, you don't ask him to let you go but just say adorably blushing: Your hands are so big and warm, Satoru.

jealous! Gojo who now walks hand in hand with you almost all the time, when you go to class, when he takes you to your dorm at night and even when Geto claims he's delusional, he insists, you guys are already dating.

jealous! Gojo who finally confesses his feelings for you and refuses to let you answer by kissing you, igniting a steamy hot make out session which leaves you breathless, whatever negative reply you had, its lost and even your reluctance goes to the back of your head, in order, to give him a chance.

jealous! Gojo who is over the moon, elated you ‘agreed’ and now you let him hold you whenever he wants. “Satoru, don’t be so clingy” Geto had said but he only stuck his tongue at him, every time the raven-haired tried to latch his hands away from you another came to replace it. Making Satoru smirk, wickedly. “God. Suguru, are you jealous?”

jealous! Gojo who slowly begins to let out his true possessive self, making comments about the most random things, like your skirt: "Isn't it too short, beautiful? I love it but I would hate for you to attract the attention of unwanted people" about your classmates: "I know that Nanami and Yu are your besties but with me by your side, do you really need to be so close to them?" slowly monopolizing your time for himself, after all he is not only your boyfriend but also your upper classmate, surely he only wants the best for you.

jealous! Gojo who literally breaks Naoya's nose when he blatantly hits on you at a meeting. "Back off, Zenin!" His eyes glowed ferally, to which Naoya just indifferently wiped the traces of blood with the back of his hand, tsking his tongue, nonchalantly. "She's not even THAT pretty, Gojo." All the available sorcerers had to separate them to prevent them from killing each other. You remember there being so much blood.

jealous! Gojo Who becomes even more jealous after that incident, scaring off any male that gets too close to you but claiming it's for your own safety, only those closest to him are allowed around but not for a long time.

jealous! Gojo who changes your mind with sex feats that blow your fucking mind away. "Nanami is my best friend, I’m going to the movies with him, period!" Gojo is bending you on his knee to spank that attitude out of you and when hears the first attempt of a sob, he pulls your panties down and massages the sore skin gently as he eats your pretty tight cunt until you are a shivering, moaning mess. "Suguru told me he saw you flirting with the girl tending the mochi shop" Gojo's pummeling his hips against your thighs, deep and steady, to make you forget his attempt to get free stuff, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh so loud and lewd that you even forget what you were complaining about, he’s fucking pounding your sensitive pussy till it’s puffy and leaking with his cum. He’s a little toxic like that.

jealous! Gojo who likes having you all to himself, he doesn't want to share you with anyone, not even Shoko or Mei, he loves you so damn much he could explode. He loves having you with him, having you on top of him, under him, against him. He's not your favorite sitting place but sure as hell, he always makes himself the only seat available. You actually don't remember how it feels to sit on something other than his muscular thighs… Shoko once said that he loves you more than is probably healthy to him.

jealous! Gojo who becomes more possessive with each passing day, growing more toxic and more aggressive when he believes that someone wants to take you away from him but loves you so, SO much that you can't help but forgive him every time, since he always promises that his blue eyes only see you, and so it will be FOREVER. You're not sure how you feel about the eternal part of that promise, but it certainly makes you feel like the most protected person in the entire planet.

I MADE SOME SICK SFW/NSFW ARTS FOR THIS DRABBLE, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. ;)

[coff33andb00ks]

37 With Oscar Piastri? 🫶

37: not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out I got this twice so i'm combining them k thx 🥹

also this is really for @maxlarens bc she helped me craft something similar to this idea

Oscar's...different. Not in a bad way, just...different. He's not loud or obnoxious like the other guys in your classes at uni, he just comes in, takes his seat, and then...

Well honestly you don't know. Since, you know, you're paying attention to the professor. But you assume he's paying attention as well.

He's just quiet. Or so you thought.

"Your grandma sounds nice," you say, truly smiling as he finishes telling you about the treats his grandmother sent from back home.

He grins, blushing a little. Maybe from embarrassment, maybe from the drinks. "Yeah... She's strong too, you know."

"Is she?" you ask.

"She's got the heart of a lion."

"Oh wo--"

"And a lifetime ban from the zoo."

Your jaw drops and you let out a giggle while he grins again. "Stop, that was terrible," you insist, taking a sip of your drink. But you're still giggling a little.

His face creases and you realize that the weirdly quiet guy from maths isn't weird.

So naturally he needs you to become his friend. Right? Right. Probably not but you take up the task anyway, happily dragging him along to parties and clubs on weekends. He goes along with it, longsuffering and looking miserable, but always ends up cracking jokes that have even your most judgmental friends liking him.

Oscar's like that, you realize, watching him cringe over the house music playing. He pretends not to care but he does. He cares more than you, sometimes. Especially about people he loves, like that American guy that follows him around like a lost puppy, and the super posh guy that you and your friend joke is actually a serial killer

His friends and your friends become a group. Neither from either side have anything in common other than attending the same university. None seem to really like the others really but put up with them because Oscar makes it worth it.

You've all been studying for exams, gathering in the posh guy's off campus flat because it's the biggest and has the best furniture and the best food, and you're in the kitchen fixing coffee when Oscar finds you. There's chatter in the dining room, your friends arguing over a minute detail in some show you haven't watched yet.

"Are they getting rowdy?" you ask, taking down another mug - they all match, George is third year and all his dishes match - and pour him some coffee.

"No more than usual." Oscar murmurs a thank you, leaning against the counter as the arguing turns into laughter.

"You hate that I've dragged you into this hysteria don't you?" you murmur.

"What?"

You smile against the rim of your mug. You like the way he says what, all exaggerated and so very Australian. What does that even mean? You have no idea. You just know you like it. "They're a bit..."

"Loud?" Oscar asks, his face dead serious as absolute silence comes from the dining room.

"You," you mutter, lightly shoving at his shoulder before leaning against him, dropping your hand.

"They're alright," he promises. "They keep George and Logan bonkers."

You laugh, because your friends do love tormenting his friends. And vice versa. "Come on, let's try to get them to focus on work."

Back in the dining room you're working your way through the problem that you've been struggling with when you notice Logan keeps giving you weird looks after he comes back from the toilet. You ignore him because, well, it's Logan, and he tends to always give people weird looks.

There's rustling and whispering around you and then George looks up from his laptop and you freeze, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you and Oscar.

"What's all this then?" George asks.

"You sound just like my grandad," your friend groans before turning to you. "When did this story arc happen?"

"Yeah, I thought you two were still stuck on ew that's my friend," Logan chimed in.

"What?" This from Oscar.

George points a pen at you both. "That."

And then you feel it. Your hand in Oscar's - his thumb tapping yours, the calluses from his love of the gym, warm and comforting and—

"Well?" your friend demands.

You know you should drop his hand. That's my friend, my quiet black cat that I adopted and drag around to keep the weirdos away only I'm the weirdo and he can't keep me away. You look down at your clasped hands.

There's a freckle next to his thumbnail and all you can think is how fucking endearing that is.

"Just because no guy wants to hold your hand doesn't mean I should suffer," you find yourself saying.

Next to you, Oscar throws his head back and laughs.

[love-that-we-were-in]

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 

*

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 

“Why aren’t you ready?” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” 

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 

“Fancy a rematch?” 

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 

“How many beers have you had?” 

“Three, I think?” 

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 

So you say it anyway. 

“I bet I could outdrink you.” 

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?” 

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 

“Are you going to?” 

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 

*

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?” 

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes. 

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 

“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 

“We can share.” 

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 

“You’re on, Castellan.” 

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore. 

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

*

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 

“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 

“Seriously?” 

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

[ravenelyx]

I need you. - Sebastian Sallow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Chapter Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Sebastian needs to be snuggled, Sebastian is also sad, and Sebastian needs love, neck kissing, cuddling and snuggling, Soft!Sebastian Supremacy, House or gender is not specified, (implied) established relationship, use of 2nd person for the reader

Summary: Sebastian has different ways of dealing with being hurt. One of them is burying his face in your chest while you cuddle him

A/N: IT'S SALLOW SUNDAY and since people seem to like my soft!seb heacanons, I wrote a whole fic instead <3 I woke up feeling snuggly, sooo...

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic on ao3 as well <3

Ominis' version

You didn't even hear his steps, yet when you saw a grimace creep up on Leander's face as he spoke to you, and strong arms wrap around your torso, you knew.

Sebastian left a soft kiss on the top of your head, looking at Leander with a small frown. You thought it must be one of those things only boys understood, because Leander sighed and nodded, without saying a word. Sebastian relaxed against you.

Pair of eyes looked between the two boys, as if expecting a fight to come out of it, but Leander just smiled in acknowledgement. "Sallow." Then his eyes met yours. "I'll see you in class. Don't forget your Leechjuice again."

You rolled your eyes. "It was one time."

Many people mistook it for possessiveness. You knew the real reason for it.

Leander walked away, waving you a goodbye, and Sebastian leaned his head against yours.

"Hi," you whispered with a small smile. He nuzzled your cheek, leaning his weight on your back.

While you never reproached him for showing his touchy side in public, you were starting to feel a little self-conscious of all the curious eyes piercing the two of you, so you turned around in his arms — albeit with great difficulty as his iron grip on you seemed unmovable — and cupped his cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You swore you saw a few tears collect in his eyes as you spoke, so you walked him backwards to a more secluded bench. He sat down and immediately pulled you onto his lap.

After two years of dating, Sebastian had no more qualms about showing you his need for affection. You were there through it all: when Anne was cursed, when Sebastian desperately tried to find a cure, and even now, when he was diving into a dangerous path with his new friend. He had begun to rely on you, and on something only you could give him.

Security.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, affectionately scratching his scalp, and he let out a soft whine – a whine of pleasure, and a whine of something else. Something sad and guilty and that made him tighten his grip against you and bury his face in your chest.

"He has sent another letter!" he began, running his hands along your back and hips. You learned it was a way for him to reassure himself and calm down. "He told me the if I don't stop, he'll never let me see Anne again!"

Your face softened, hand now cupping the back of his head and pulling him closer. Usually, when Sebastian had a fight with Solomon, he'd retreat in the Undercroft, angry and incensed and ready to burn his own rage to the sound of very loud Confringo's. But there were times when his uncle's words got to him, made his heart sink with the need of a love that was stripped from him. A love he tried to silence by hugging his pillow tight at night when he was young. A love he found in you.

"He won't actually do it. Anne will always be your sister," you reassured him softly. "She'll want to see you, and he can't stop her from that."

He breathed heavily in your chest, pressed his palm under your thighs to pull you further in.

"She doesn't agree with what I'm doing…" He muffled his broken voice in your shirt.

"I know…"

"And she might stop loving me…" he said tearfully.

"She won't." You said earnestly. "She's your twin. In her heart, she knows she'd do the same for you."

He trembled a little, emotions threatening to explode.

"You don't trust Solomon," you began, stroking his hair, "but you can trust me. And you can trust Anne."

He stopped quivering, and you could almost feel the gears turn in his brain at your words. He began to kiss you through your shirt in gratitude.

You thought the position must have been uncomfortable to him, even if he didn't show it, so you slightly pushed his torso back, his face leaving your chest with a displeased frown, and leaned him on the seatback a little, then nestled in his arms, face nuzzling his neck. He sighed in relief as you cuddled against him.

"I know I'm too much sometimes…" he said in a small voice, hiding his face in your hair.

"You're not," you answered immediately. You could see his insecurities start to creep up on him, and you wouldn't have that.

"I annoy you."

"You don't," you protested, looking up at him in concern.

"I always come to you—"

"I'm glad you do."

"—and I'm always too needy."

"I don't see a problem with that."

You sighed and cupped his cheek again, drawing him down to press your mouth to his. It took a small touch for him to ignite, leaning his whole torso over you to deepen the kiss, desperately tugging at your lips. He pulled back with a grimace again when he noticed, and turned away, almost guilty.

"Don't refuse my affection," you whispered.

"I will consume you."

"I'm yours anyway."

He looked back at you, eyes fleeting over the gentle smile on your lips.

"Now come and kiss me a little more."

The battle in his mind seemed to settle immediately, and he lunged forward, placing one hand on the back of your head to keep you in place as his lips feasted on yours. His other arm circled your waist, holding you impossibly tight against him. And he was everywhere — his body caging yours, lips hungrily pulling and biting and bruising, hands desperately kneading your flesh, prising your shirt open to touch your bare skin. You felt dizzy at the force of his affection, and you knew he was right. He would consume you, like a wildfire, an eruption, a cataclysm about to blow your heart in a pulp of blood and passion as his tongue claimed yours. And you'd stop feeling like a person at his touch, so overcome by him you'd lose yourself. And then he'd settle it all right, kissing the blood off your lips with reverence, caressing your bruises gently, putting order into your feelings and reminding you once again that you would do anything for him.

"I need you," he breathed out, dipping his head in the crook of your neck. "Every day…"

You didn't stop him when he sucked a love bite into your skin.

"It's a good thing I feel the same," you chuckled.

"Even if you don't need me as much as I need you—"

"I need you more than you can imagine."

He looked up at you, and you kissed his lips again. This time he was gentle as well.

"Don't stop coming to me. Ever."

He nodded and kissed you again. And again. And again. And again, until Professor Weasley reproached the both of you for inappropriate behaviour and sent you to detention for a week.

And he'd kiss you there, too.

[amuyyi]

warm enough .

synopsis; recovering from an expected breakup, you find yourself drunk at a nearby bar, encountering an unfamiliar girl who happens to know your ex.

trope; non idol!ningning x fem!reader, uni au, fluff, a little angst, a little suggestive, strangers to lovers, feat. kep1er members :3

wc; 4.8k

cw; a little suggestive but not really

a/n; fun fact this happened to me irl ! figured i could use my experiences for stories ! everything from the breakup to the bar kiss is based on my personal experience so lol have fun. also its kinda poorly written because i wrote some of it while on the plane + in china while being very tired and i dont feel like proofreading so im sorry ^^'

The breakup was supposed to be a mutual thing. A smooth and easy agreement between you and Jimin. You guys met in a cafe when your soon-to-be-ex girlfriend finally dropped the bomb on you. 

“I still care a lot about you, y/n. But I want to focus on myself and my future… I think you should too.”

You wanted to speak up, say that you didn’t want to let go yet. Just… hold on for a little longer. Maybe it’d get better if you guys just kept it going for another week. Another month. Another day?

 “What I’m trying to say is…”

You always hated this part.

“I think we should break up.”

Despite the older girl being the one to initiate the ending of the relationship, you always knew it was coming. Jimin was sweet, and you definitely did enjoy the little dates you guys had been on through the past year, but there was something missing. Every time she looked at you, it seemed like she was looking through your eyes into her own. Her mind was always elsewhere whenever you two were together, like she was searching for something you couldn’t provide. She never seemed to smile around you, never laughed loudly or hugged you with warmth. 

You really tried to be the person for her, you really did; but it was apparent that she was trying to convince herself you were the one as well.

It was shown in the way she bought you endless gifts with things you said you wanted, but never kissed you, In the way she would allow you to hold her hand, but never reached out herself, how she couldn’t bring herself to say “I love you” out loud. Jimin was cold.

You agreed that this was the best path to take, how you felt the exact same way and that it would be good for the both of you, but the tears that nonconsensually left your eyes said otherwise. You still remember the last words you told her before you got up to leave.

“I really hoped it was you.”

There's a saying or the other. “Your body will know if someone is right for you.” You came across it while aimlessly scrolling on social media once, and you thought it was an interesting but ridiculous concept. Countless people would share stories about how their hair would fall out or how they would break out into horrible acne when they were with their past partners, only being relieved from this when single or with their “match.”

It was funny, and you didn’t believe one bit of it until it actually happened. The tightness in your chest that followed you every time you two went out together, the stress of wondering if she actually enjoyed her company, the way you couldn’t truly relax in her presence– it all went away. It all left when she walked out of your life, and you’ve never felt more at peace with a decision. At least, for a little bit.

The breakup was the easy part. It was the recovery that ruined you.

You were the one to establish a rule of no contact, even after you both expressed wanting to stay in touch. It was your only way to hold on to the last sliver of pride you had left after spending a year chasing after Yu Jimin. The rule was established to allow you some time to heal, and you hoped to return to the girl as friends once you felt ready.

With this in mind, you then proceeded to spend a month barely eating, barely sleeping, and not leaving your apartment unless you needed to for classes. It was difficult to be on your own after dedicating so much time to her, falling behind, hoping that she would see you the way you saw her; but after about a month, you slowly felt yourself regaining your footing.

You started going out again, talking with your roommate, taking time to actually care for yourself. It was nice. Perhaps your progress would have left you comfortable enough to move on if you didn’t decide to go out that day.

There she was. Yu Jimin. After an exact 31 days of no contact with her, you finally cross paths. Quite literally, at that– but she wasn’t alone. There was a girl on her arm. She was pretty. Blonde with bobbed hair and a soft smile that made it impossible to hate her. Jimin was smiling too. This is the first time you’ve seen her smile like that, smiling as if she found what she was looking for after all of this time. She doesn't look past her. She sees her.

Jimin holds the other girl by the small of her waist the way she used to do with you, and she kisses her. She kissed her. Just like how she used to kiss you, but not exactly. There's love in her eyes. A warmth you’ve never seen before. In her eyes, there is certainty.

And that was the day your world came crashing down on top of you.

You tried to act normal as you walked past. You really did. Your eyes remain glued to your phone as your knuckles turn white. Her eyes didn’t even meet yours as you walked by. Why wouldn't she look at you? Maybe she's wondering why you won't look at her. That must be it. You hold your breath. As soon as she passed by, you couldn’t help yourself. You made the mistake of looking back.

…Nothing.

As soon as Jimin was out of sight, you cried. You ran home, scaring half the life out of your poor roommate, Xiaoting, as you collapsed in your bed. Everything hurts. Why did it hurt? You wanted this. You felt better without her— the tightness in your chest was gone. 

Instead, it was replaced by an indescribably painful ache. One that felt so deep within your soul it would never heal. Quietly entering your room, Xiaoting says nothing as she sits next to your limp body on the bed, rubbing your back comfortingly. The gesture only makes you sob even harder. 

She's been with you through it all. From the beginning of your relationship with Jimin till the end, she was there. Xiaoting really was a good friend.

From then on, Xiaoting’s one goal was simple: cheer you up. She would cook at least once for you every day despite not being the best chef, and she would allow you to rant about the same things over and over no matter how overbearing it got. Honestly, you started to feel a little bad. She shouldn’t have to bend over backwards for you just because you’re a little sad.

So when Xiaoting announces that you will be joining her at the bar with her friends tonight, you couldn't say no. Both because she stated it, not asked you, and that it simply was the least you could do for her. Especially after everything she’s done for you. Before you knew it, you were dressed up in your best (slutty) corset top and cargo pants with some hoops and over exaggerated makeup to accent the look. Xiaoting, as your best roommate and friend, matches with you, and you two make a big scene out of getting ready together; blasting music, doing each other's hair, borrowing each other's clothes, and more.

Xiaoting’s girlfriend Yujin had made herself at home for the pregame, and your mutual friend Hikaru soon followed. With Xiaoting as designated bartender, the four of you mingle, laughing and cracking jokes as the warmth of the alcohol and one another’s presence left you with a warming buzz. Xiaoting was an excellent mixer, and in combination with the chasers Hikaru bought and the drinking games Yujin proposed, you were all ready to go. 

Xiaoting and Yujin led the way, hand in hand as you and Hikaru trailed behind, drunkenly singing into the cold night air as you trek to the nearest bar.

Being a Friday night, the establishment had been as packed as expected, and you all squeezed your way past other visitors as you’re guided to a nearby table. Xiaoting starts off strong, ordering shots for the entire group before utilizing her combined charm alongside her girlfriend’s looks to convince guys to purchase drinks for everyone as well. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way the duo would bat their eyelashes innocently at lone men for drinks– but at least it worked.

Lazily, your eyes wander through the crowd, the alcohol in your system making it a struggle to see straight. Despite your inability to see properly, you still manage to catch a glimpse of your friends from the corner of your eye, and easily spot Yujin attempting to very publicly make out with Xiaoting as Hikaru struggles to pull her away. You stifle a laugh at the sight, and decide to leave the three to their antics whilst you look for someone to talk to.

It's been a while since you last struck up a conversation with a stranger. The last time you had put yourself out there was before you met… 

You shake your head. No. You are not letting your stupid ex ruin your night. Knitting your brows in concentration, you scan the bar. There were plenty of pretty girls to talk to, but you were feeling a little intimidated. Almost all of them came with at least one other person, and you didn’t want to intrude on anything…

 Your eyes landed on a lone blonde at the end of the table, scrolling through her phone with alcohol flushed cheeks. She seemed approachable. Worst case scenario, she simply shoos you off. Taking a deep breath, you approach the blonde, deciding to pull out your best conversation starter.

“Are you chinese? You look chinese!!” You exclaim, suddenly switching to mandarin in the middle of your sentence as you ask the question. Smooth.

The blonde girl looks as if she would’ve been extremely offended at the comment if you didn't just speak to her in her native tongue halfway through your sentence, and she quirks a brow at you, an amused smirk on her lips as she leans against the bar. 

“Yeah, I am! What's a cutie like you doing in a place like this alone??” 

You feel your heart begin to race. So far so good. “I'm not alone!!! My friends are just busy making out with each other and the other is trying to stop them!!” You also lean on the bar, though not as alluring as the blonde before you. More like you partially collapsed and partially slid on it.

She chortles at your response, “well that's not fair to you, leaving you here all alone.”

The sweet and somewhat sultry tone of the blonde makes (non alcohol induced) blush appear on your face as you laugh, “it really isn't! But whatever! My name is y/n by the way!! What's yours??” You scream over the music, sticking your hand out. It was an unexpectedly polite gesture considering your circumstances, and perhaps it may have seemed a bit comical as well with how drunk you were.

She giggles at the response, grabbing your hand then pulling you in, her lips dangerously close to your ear as she yells over the music, “Ning Yizhuo. But call me Ningning! It's cuter!”

You grin. Ningning was a cute nickname. You decided at this very moment you could trust this cute stranger with your life story and personal information she didn’t ask for, and begin to slur out.

“My friends dragged me out here because I was sad over my ex who moved on from me a month after the breakup even though we dated for a year and she's a big jerk for that even though I wish only the best for her but also I hope she dies!!!”

None of the words you spoke just now came out clear, and they seemed to trip over one another when leaving your mouth, but it was enough for the other girl to go from extremely relaxed to suddenly very heated. She stands up straight as her eyebrows knit together.

“To be honest I don’t think she ever really liked me in the first place! I don’t know!! Whatever it doesn’t matter!!!” You continue on, sounding absolutely pathetic as you let yourself feel through the anger you didn’t even know you were repressing, “I was stupid to stay with someone who couldn’t even look me in the eye when saying she loved me!! She was stupid to do the same!! Whatever!! I don’t know!!”

Ningning cuts you off with a raised hand before you can continue, “what the hell?! I hate people like that!!  You're wayyyy too hot to be treated that way! Who is she? What's her name?? I might know her!!”

Against your better drunken judgment, you decide to name drop your ex within a university bar. Because that is always a good idea. “Yu Jimin!! She's a engineering major !!!”

Ningning’s jaw drops as she stares at you, almost as if she were trying to find the correct words for what she has to say next.

“Girl, I know her !!!” She screams out after a brief moment of silence,  “we shared a class together once!! Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't know she was like that!! You deserve BETTER!” 

Before you could even think of what to say in reaction to that heavy load of information, Ningning grabs your face, pulling you into a kiss. It was a very messy one, her lips almost missing your own during the exchange. Seems like she's not entirely sober either. 

Still, even in your drunken state you knew what to do. Your hands immediately find Ningnings hair as you pull her in closer, and you can feel her smiling as she grazes her tongue over the bottom of your lip. 

You open your mouth to let her in and the only thing that you can think of or even feel for that matter is Ningning and her tongue. She… was really good at this. Jimin never kissed you like this before. Her hands trail down your back to your ass before she squeezes it, smirking when you squirm against her touch.

She breaks the kiss, her face inches away from yours as she breathes out, “you deserve so much better…” Ningning gives you a quick peck on the lips before stepping back, taking in her work with a devilish glint in her eyes. You stare at her dumbfounded for a moment before whipping out your phone, fully talking in your appearance. Your hair and makeup were a wreck. How did all of that happen just now?

“Done by yours truly~” Ningning winks at you, quickly slipping your phone out of your hand and typing something in.

“Wh— Wait what are you doing?”

“Giving you my number, obviously. My girls are gonna wonder where I went.” She hands back your phone and looks at you with soft eyes through her drunken daze. 

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” Ningning kisses you one last time, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. She disappears into the crowd of partygoers, a sly fox-like grin on her face.

“There you are!” 

You feel an arm land on your shoulder as you jump, twirling around and looking down to see a drunk Hikaru with a slightly less drunk Xiaoting and an absolutely hammered Yujin on her side.

“We should probably head back home!” Xiaoting screams into your ear, “Hikaru’s gonna knock out on the couch and Yujin will be with me!”

Her words barely make it through to you, the music and the alcohol and the adrenaline within your system muffling out every word spoken. Regardless, you still nod and trail behind your friends as you leave, not all too sure what just happened.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You lay in bed, eyes practically burning holes into the new contact in your phone. “宁宁<3” is what it said. 

So last night wasn’t just a dream. You really did just get a girl's number by doing nothing but spilling your secrets to a stranger. On top of all of that, your head was absolutely killing you, you swore you could feel your heartbeat within your brain. Still, that wasn’t important. Biting your lip, your fingers hover over the contact name. Should you message her? 

y/n [10:59]  — hey !! its y/n, the girl from the bar

y/n [10:59]  — thanks for keeping me company last night :)

ningning [11:06]  — i was wondering if u were gonna text me back

ningning [11:06] — and of course <3 jimin doesn’t know what she lost

y/n [11:08] — haha im flattered

y/n [11:08]  — but u barely know me??

ningning [11:11]  — that can change xx

Your eyes widen as you reread the text over and over again. Is she implying what you think she's implying? What if she's just being friendly? Can you even platonically make out with someone at the bar?

y/n [11:16] — are u asking me out on a date ning yizhuo ?

You wait. 

Oh god. What if she was just being friendly?

ningning [11:18]  — only if youll have me 

You feel yourself blush at her message, burying your face into your pillow as you squeal like a high school teenager in love. It was embarrassing in hindsight, but.. it felt nice to be wanted. 

y/n [11:19] —  of course

ningning [11:19] — perfect <3 

ningning [11:20] — dinner at my place tonight then? 

ningning [11:20] — If youre not too hungover.. 

ningning [11:20] — i got the best hangover cures ;)

you can't help but arch your eyebrow at the winky face she added at the end but brushed it off, more focused on the fact that your drunk hatred towards your ex landed you a date. 

You scramble to your feet and (metaphorically) kick down Xiaoting’s door, abruptly waking the girl from her nap as she screams out, “WO CAO!” She places a hand over her heart as she bolts up within her bed, immediately letting out a sigh of relief when she realizes it was just you. 

“Girl what the HELL is wrong with you?!” She hisses, laying back down and throwing the blanket over her head.

You, being the ever loving and best roommate ever, respond to this by jumping into bed with (on top of) the redhead and squeezing her as tight as you can while screaming “I HAVE A DATE!!!”

Xiaoting shoots back up, your arms still latched onto her torso as she looks down at you, eyes wide. “Wait, are you serious?”

You hear a low groan and a hand slapping your arm as you roll your eyes, slapping the arm back as the voice of Yujin grumbles out and shuffles deeper within the sheets.

Both you and Xiaoting look at one another and giggle before she quietly slips out of bed, quickly placing a kiss on Yujins head before grabbing your arm and leading you out of her room. Once outside, she firmly grasps your shoulders. 

“Okay, now tell me everything.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You nervously stand outside of Ningnings apartment, bag clutched in hand as you look back behind you. Xiaoting sat within her car on the side of the road, keeping an eye on you to make sure this girl wasn’t going to kidnap you or the other.

The two of you (and soon enough Yujin and Hikaru) had spent the day giving you pointers on how to go about the date. They had thrown an ungodly amount of clothes your way as well as telling you endless conversation starters and compliments to give another person. By the end of it all your head was overflowing with information that you were going to forget as soon as you head out the door, and all of your closet was sprawled on your bedroom floor and in the living room. Still, the girls seemed quite proud of their work.

All of you had consecutively agreed on an outfit that was nice, but not too nice. You wore a plaid skirt paired with a simple tank top and an off the shoulder cardigan.

Holding your breath, you ring the doorbell. You really hoped this wasn’t a mistake. When was the last time you were actually on a date with someone? You couldn't remember. After a few moments of silence, you hear shuffling followed by the door unlocking and Ningning poking her head out shyly. Her eyes light up at the sight of you before opening the door completely, revealing her outfit.

She wore an oversized plaid button up, unintentionally matching with your skirt alongside baggy jeans and some bunny slippers you thought were incredibly cute. Her hair was tied up in a messy but charming bun, held up by a hair stick with small gemstones dangling from the end.

This Ningning was completely different from the one you had met at the bar last night. Though, you suppose you were a different person now as well.

“You're here! Come in come in!” She grabs your hand and guides you inside. Flustered, you spare a quick glance behind you, and you can spot the silhouette of Xiaoting throwing a thumbs up from her car before Ningning closes the door behind you.

“You look gorgeous today, by the way,” Ningning compliments, her thumb rubbing over your fingers as she walks you through her apartment. The gesture makes your cheeks warm, and you find yourself easing into her touch like putty. It was a touch that was loving. Kind. Intentional. 

Her home was cozy, with white walls paired alongside warm lighting and paintings and other wall art lining the interior. There was an appetizing aroma that wafted through the air, and you had remembered that Ningning had offered to cook for you.

“What have you prepared for us tonight, chef Ningning?” You ask, squeezing her hand as she grins, “Well it's not much, I'm not a really good cook but I decided to make us some dumplings! A little basic, but it's the only dish I feel like I’ve actually perfected.”

“I hope this is the hangover cure you mentioned” you comment lightheartedly, and you sense a playful energy in the way she looks back at you.

“You'll find out soon enough.”

You once again find yourself quirking a brow at her vague answers, but she simply smiles at you innocently and you find yourself smiling back. It was hard to not be amused by her.

Ningning guides you to the kitchen, which was cleaned perfectly for your arrival. On the center of the table were multiple bamboo steamer baskets, as well as a large tea pot and a simple glass bottle with various native wildflowers as a centerpiece. 

The other girl pulls out a chair for you, and you teasing grin at the polite gesture, “how romantic, Ninging~”

She rolls her eyes and giggles before settling down herself, instantaneously pouring you a cup of tea as she gestures at the baskets, “go on, dig in. I’ll be personally offended if you don’t.”

Chuckling, you open up the baskets, releasing clouds of steam before revealing multiple handmade dumplings with various fillings and differing folding styles. Your eyes widen, and you simply comment, “wow,” before taking the first bite of the food.

To say that it tasted amazing was an understatement– you practically felt like you were thrown back to the motherland with a single bite, and it wasn’t long before you were filling your plate with more.

The two of you had spent the rest of the evening getting to know one another more. You had learned she was a computer science major and going onto her third year of uni, as well as the fact she was from Harbing whilst you shared that you were from Shanghai. 

“Big city girl, huh?” Ningning amusedly comments, sipping on her tea as you roll your eyes, “yeah… But I'm not rich or anything before you ask.”

The blonde feigns rejection as she snaps her fingers, “damn. I was gonna ask you to buy drinks next time we head to the bars, I think you owe me. ” She smiles at you, and it's warm.

You liked this. You liked how easy it was to talk to her. It was never this easy before.

Soon enough you had ended up on Ningning’s couch, browsing through movies aimlessly as the hefty meal threatened to send you into a food coma. The blonde lay comfortably in your arms underneath a blanket, her eyes occasionally fluttering shut as you continued to search for something to watch.

“Hmm, what about… Velocipastor?” The name completely throws you off guard, prompting you to click on it, skimming over the description as you feel the vibration of Ninging lazily humming beneath you. 

“Oh that movie is really good, trust me.”

“... Really? Are you sure, Ning?”

“Yeah yeah…” Her eyes were already shut as she spoke, nuzzling in closer to you as you chuckle, putting on the movie as you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in closer. 

Honestly, the movie seemed to be an excuse for the girl to be physically close to you– maybe get a nap in? You weren’t even sure if she was watching the movie at this point. Still, maybe it was for the best. Velocipastor was definitely not well funded within its production, that much could be seen. Plus, you couldn't complain about having a cute girl in your arms.

“Does your head still hurt?”

Ningning’s soft voice rings out, startling you. Honestly, you were getting pretty invested in the film, you had thought she already fell asleep.

“Mmm, a little. I don’t think your hangover cure worked.”

“Oh, the dumplings weren’t the cure.”

Your head cocks to the side as you tear your gaze away from the tv screen, looking down at the girl nestled on your chest as she looks back up at you. There was that all too familiar glint in her eyes again.

“Then what is?”

A mischievous grin curls on her lips before she leans in, connecting her lips with yours. Still a bit sluggish from the night before alongside a hefty meal, her kissing was a bit sloppy, but it was soft. Much softer than before.

You feel yourself almost immediately sigh into the kiss, and you would have found it embarrassing if she didnt guide her hand up your chest, to your neck, and into your hair, soon deepening the kiss. 

Not expecting things to escalate so soon, you couldn’t help but let out a soft whimper as your hands landed on her hips, nails digging into her sides desperately as she laughs against your lips, pulling back. 

“You’re really cute, y’know?” She purrs, using her hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face, and you can see the hint of pink spread across her lips as she smiles, drinking in the sight of you.

Before you even have a chance to respond, Ningning tackles your jawline, trailing kisses down your face and onto your neck. You try to respond, but when she starts to nip the side of your neck, the words you wanted to say somehow managed to melt into complete mush.

“Mmhmmhgh…” 

The sound that escapes your lips allows you the chance to actually feel embarrassed, and you slam a hand over your lips, looking away from Ninging. Your response elicits another laugh from the blonde, and you swear you could listen to the sound forever. 

Her symphony soon quiets though, and Ningning looks you straight in the eye, her gaze softening as she opens her mouth, struggling to find the right words to say.

“Look, I know we just met…” she trails off for a moment, almost a bit shy to continue, “but if you want to give me a chance and see where this goes, I promise I’ll treat you so well.” 

Her eyes are filled with genuine desire for you, and you couldn’t help but feel… Isolated? Targetted? For the first time you feel like you’re seen, and you don’t know what to do about it.

She presses on, “I’d really like to see you again, and I know you’re going through a lot right now but I want to be there with you every step of the way. I want to see where this takes us.”

“I want you, y/n.”

Your face heats up instantaneously, and you swear your eyes were threatening to bulge out of your skull right then and there. You look at her in silence as you struggle to find your words, and after a few seconds you finally croak out,

“I… I want to see where this takes us too, Ningning.”

Her eyes brighten at your response, and she beams, pulling you into a tight hug on the couch before interlocking her lips with yours once again. You giggle into the kiss, and throw the blanket over the two of you as the movie on the tv buzzed on. For the first time, you found someone warm enough for you.

[mattyriddlesbitch]

a steamy enemies mattheo fic w you as the shy yet stern tutor and he keeps messing w you. maybe at the end after he passes his exams you try to stop the meetings by saying he doesn’t need a tutor anymore and he gets mad/the jealousy trope 🤤😈🛼 also what if there’s a scene where you go to a ‘dangerous’ party w the wrong crowd and he catches you there and gets mad bc he doesn’t want u around those people

I hope this works! So sorry this took so long!

Tutor

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: kissing, cussing

You and Mattheo never got along. Everyone knew that too. Insults and snarky comments were thrown at each other all the time.

So it was infuriating when McGonagall said you were his new tutor since he was struggling with some classes. You tried to get out of it, switch with another tutor, but she just said that everyone's already set up with another student and she can't change it.

Tutoring sessions were brutal. He always messed with you. Always tried getting off topic. Even jokingly flirting with you to try to derail your lesson. But you were determined to get him to study and tutor him enough to pass so you could stop these sessions. 

“How about every answer I get right, you give me a kiss?” He smiled at you.

“In your dreams, Riddle.” You rolled your eyes, but felt the heat rise to your cheeks. “Can you just focus?”

He finally just started passing his classes, his homework and test scores soaring  enough to make him start passing classes. McGonagall said you didn't have to tutor him anymore, but she recommended you did since your own scores were going up as well as you tutored him. You had enough of Mattheo and told him you weren't going to be tutoring him anymore during your last tutoring session, showing him the tricks you learned for studying and retaining information.

Oh, he was mad. He never really hated you. He liked you and never knew how to express his feelings so he became mean to you instead. He was a dumb kid when he decided that and didn't know how to change it and make you like him, even as a friend. These tutoring sessions were making his feelings grow. He thought it'd be a perfect time to find out more about you, asking you questions about yourself, trying to change the topic to something more fun to hear you talk about something other than school, even flirting with you to try to change your view of him and see if he could fluster you.

So when you told him that you were done with tutoring him, he was upset. Moreso at himself than you. He was upset that he didn't seem to get you to change your view of him. He was upset he tried so hard, he passed enough to not need you to tutor him anymore. He was upset that he decided to be an ass to you at the beginning of your relationship so you'd always have a bad view of him.

“What do you mean you're not tutoring me anymore?” He frowned as he sat across from you in the library.

“I mean exactly that. You're doing well enough to not need one anymore.” You shrugged.

“I'm only doing this well because of you.”

“I'm showing you how I study so you can keep doing this well. You don't need me.”

He wanted to say he does need you. Merlin, he wanted to. He wanted to see how you'd react. He even wanted to see you get all smug and tease him about needing you, but he bit his tongue.

Truth was, he really didn't need your help. He knew this stuff enough to pass with flying colors. He just never applied himself. But he thought if he did start passing because of you, you'd be impressed and happy he did so well because of you. He felt like he lost his chance to win you over once he saw you leaving the library after your last tutoring session.

Your friend invited you to a party she'd been invited to, saying it'll be fun and to think of it as celebrating successfully tutoring Mattheo and being done with him. You were reluctant but finally agreed, deciding it'd be fun to relax and let loose.

You arrived with your friend, who let you borrow one of her short dresses and a pair of heels. You both drank and danced until she was eventually pulled away by one of the guys there, leaving you alone. You were slightly tipsy, just enough to make you relaxed and slightly dizzy.

A guy approached you, you recognized him enough to know he was in Slytherin, but you never learned his name. He was about to say something when an arm wrapped around your waist from beside you.

“Hey, princess. Hope you weren't waiting on me for too long.” You recognized the voice as Mattheo and turned your head to see him smiling at you.

“What-”

“You seem a bit tired. How about we go sit down?” Something in his voice and smile was off. You nodded and he guided you away from the crowd and down a secluded hallway. “What are you doing here?” He asked as he moved to stand in front of you.

“My friend invited me.” You frowned.

“And she left you alone?” He matched your frown.

“Some guy took her to dance.”

“You're kidding. This isn't safe for you.”

“What? Why?” You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Doesn't matter. I'll get you back to your dorm.” He said, trying to turn you back around to lead you away.

“No, tell me. If I'm in danger, then I should know why.” You said, resisting him.

He sighed, looking down the hallway before looking back at you, talking quietly. “This is for purebloods and Death Eaters, something you shouldn't get involved with. So, let me get you out of here before something happens to you.” He said, trying to guide you again and you let him this time.

“What are you doing here then?” You questioned, now sobered up from this conversation.

“My father. What do you think, Ms Know-It-All?” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“No need to be mean.” You frowned. There was a pause as he led you out of the party and started the way to your dorm. “Why are you helping me anyways?”

“I don't hate you, you know?” He said and you turned your head to look at him again.

“You don't?” You raised an eyebrow.

“No. I never have. I'm just…” He paused trying to find the right words and you stopped walking, turning to face him as he stopped too. “I'm not good at…words-at expressing myself. I don't do well with feelings and emotions.” He sighed, looking down.

“Okay.” You spoke quietly. “So…what do you actually mean then, if you don't hate me?”

“What I mean is that…” He looked back up to meet your eyes. “I mean, I don't hate you, I…” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out another sigh. “Fuck it.” He muttered before grabbing your face gently and pressing his lips against yours. He pulled back after a few seconds, noticing your surprised expression as you still tried grasping what just happened. “Did that make sense?” He asked, hands still cupping your face.

“Um, I think so.” You said, still a little dazed.

“Let's get you back to your dorm. Maybe it'll give you time to figure it out.” He said, a small smirk playing on his lips now as he moved a hand back to your waist and started guiding you again.

Taglist:

@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @evaslytherpuff

@soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict @mayamonroem @motherfing-stargirl @brittney-121

@dracoslovergirl @littlemadamred @mattheoriddlesbitch @acornacreacure @opheliamalfoy236

@demieyesore @akira1246 @queenshu

Let me know if you wanna be added!

[papercorgiworld]

Boyfriend material: Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo tries to convince you he’s boyfriend material, but almost screws it up. Smut, so beware!

This part two. Read part one here.

Warning: piv, no protection, oral fem receiving.

Feedback is always very, very welcome.

Somewhat after midnight, you're dancing with Luna and a definitely drunk Hermoine. Pansy lets herself fall next to Mattheo who had been sitting on a couch with a drink in his hand, talking with a random piss drunk Ravenclaw. “Don’t party too hard, Matty.” Pansy can’t hide her pleased smile. Mattheo clenches his jaw, but ignores her. “You know, with an attitude like that people will start thinking something is bothering you.” The filthy grin on Pansy’s face never drops. Matheo leans back and finally looks at Pansy. “I’m not playing.” He simply states. Pansy lets out a laugh. “I know, I figured that much. Actually for the better. You couldn’t have won.” He raises an eyebrow and she elaborates. “(Y/n) is looking for a boyfriend and she doesn’t think your boyfriend material.” Mattheo’s eyes go soft as he stares at you. “I’m not boyfriend material, hm?” His question comes out so vulnerable even Pansy softens up a bit. “She wants hot sex, but also late night cuddles. She wants to lay her head on someone's shoulder and hold hands, intertwine fingers. She wants stolen kisses in the hallway between classes. Study sessions with messy make outs. Casual evenings, reading while leaning against one another. Nothing you would ever wanna settle for, right?”

You’re still dancing when an arm snakes around your waist. You turn your head, your nose almost brushes Mattheo’s. He gently pushes you against him and whispers: “Come with me.”. But he doesn’t wait for your answer. Pushing you in the direction of the exit. You make your way to the hallway, when someone tries to talk to you he grabs your wrist and drags you a little further to an empty hallway. “What’s up with you?” You ask, getting frustrated and you push him away. He licks his lips and a cocky grin spreads on his face. You're immediately intimidated and back up against a wall as he comes closer. He rests his hand against the wall and his other hand lingers near your side, but he doesn’t touch you. “Apparently you don’t think I’m boyfriend material.” He whispers in your ear. You swallow at the twisted tone in his voice. You want to protest but your mind can only think of his piercing eyes looking at you longingly. “I would like to prove you wrong.”

His face inches towards you, his perfect curly hair falls a bit forward, he’s too close for you to function properly. It really doesn’t matter if he really is boyfriend material or not. You want him and your body is screaming for any kind of touch, resulting in a soft whimpering noise rolling over your lips. For a second he smirks, enjoying what he’s already doing to you without touching you, but then again he really wants you too so his lips crash into yours. One hand reaches for your face, holding you as he kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. His other hand pushes the small of your back, keeping you close. Your hand rests on his chest, tugging the material of his shirt urging him for more, while simultaneously intertwining your fingers in his hair, claiming as much of him as you can. His lips let go of yours, giving you a moment to breathe, but he doesn’t seem to need a break and continues kissing and sucking the flesh of your neck. When he finds your soft spot, you arch your back, unintentionally winding him up even more, and this does force him to take a moment to catch his breath. He scans over your body, pushed against his. A soft growl escapes him. He curses himself for having so little control over his hunger for you.

Mattheo’s attitude shifts and he lets out a sheepish laugh. “As part of proving to you that I’m boyfriend material, I say we take it slow.” With that he takes a step back. As his warmth leaves you, realization washes over you. What? Take it slow? Just my luck. I get Mattheo on his one day of good behavior. “What? Are you playing a game?” You blur out, “I’m going to find Enzo, at least he knows what girl needs from her boyfriend.” Mattheo’s eyes widen. You can only take one step before Mattheo is already in your way. With a confused and slightly angry expression he desperately scans your face. Woman, what do you want? I really am no boyfriend material. I have no clue what she wants. Fuck. How did I already screw this up? His shoulders drop and his face becomes so soft, it’s then that you realize he was serious about this. You smile lovingly and take a step closer. You wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t want to take it slow.” Mattheo’s signature smile returns to his face.

The walk to his dorm was filled with sloppy kisses and him squeezing your ass signaling for you to hurry up. Once in his room, he pulls his shirt over his head. Exposing a muscular Mattheo with messy hair that gently leans against the door as he locks it. He looks at you as you ever so slowly unbutton your oversized shirt, gently exposing a little more skin to Mattheo. His breath gets a little louder with each button and his hardening member is starting to twitch. When your shirt falls to the floor and you stand there in shorts and bra only, he approaches you almost touching you but for the moment only watching you. “So, if I get this boyfriend thing right, I can have you in this room, again, tomorrow?” You nod and you close the last bit of space between you two by hooking a finger behind the outline of his pants, pulling him into you. His lips leave sloppy kisses before lustfully locking with your lips, all the while you make work of undoing his pants. Your hand strokes over the bulge held by his boxers. “Fuck.” He growls, he makes quick work of your bra and pushes you onto his bed.

As he crawls over you he shamelessly stares at your breasts. “My oh my.” Is all he says before having his way with your boobs. Kneading the left one, while sucking and licking the nipple of your right breast. It’s like he’s playing an instrument, everything he does has you making noises that sound like music to his ears. He can feel himself get harder with every second. He wishes he could play with you all night, but he honestly doesn’t have the self control for it. “Matty, please.” You whine. Your legs shift, as your pussy is in desperate need of attention. He slowly kisses his way down to your shorts. When you get impatient with his teasingly slow way of taking off your shorts and panties, you slip your own hand down to your folds. “Don’t think so, love.” Mattheo says and snatches your hand to hold it in his. He crawls over to you, his lips landing on yours as his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing your hand into the sheets. “Now let me do the work.”

“You tease too much.” You say with a pout on your face. “Is that so?” His eyes never leave yours as he plays with your nipple, leaving your pussy longing. “Matty!” You whine and your only free hand thugs at his biceps signaling that he needs to move. He loves how needy you are and how whiny you get. He smirks and comes down claiming another kiss from your lips. This time his hand moves down and without teasing or warning he pushes in a finger, immediately circling your clit. Your buck your hips, fucking his finger. “Needy are we?” Mattheo taunts. “Says the guy who’s staining his boxers.” You snap back, pleased to know he is as desperate for you as you are for him. But he really is desperate, desperate to make you come so he can then mercilessly and selfishly fuck you. You squeeze your legs around his hand, finger still circling your throbbing clit, signaling how close you are. “Come on, love, open your legs for me, let me take care of you.”

The moment you open your legs, his mouth is on your folds and his tongue guides you to your release. One hand on your boob and the other holding your leg, making sure he has all the access he needs. His name leaves your mouth over and over again between moans and whines as your orgasm washes over you. You softly pull on his hair as you need him to stop pleasuring you, feeling like you’re going to explode because of the overstimulation. It’s your squirming and begging that almost push him over the edge. So when he pulls away, he keeps himself from staring at the wonderful view you are, making quick work of his last piece of clothing. You're still coming down from your high as you get to watch him pump himself a few times. “Oh, Merlin.” You blur, slightly worried about your overstimulated pussy. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll be gentle. So, may I?” He asks so politely how can I say no. You nod.

He swallows and licks his lips. “Would you mind rolling over?” A moan slips your mouth at his request, your pussy going desperate for him again. You shift your position, arching your back and giving him a perfect view of what he wanted. “Fuck. I need you.” He sighs admiring you. He slips his thick hard cock inside of your soaking wet pussy and gives you a moment to adjust, while gently stretches your walls. “You’re perfect.” Is all he manages to say before he starts thrusting into you with a steady pace. Your hands instinctively grab a hold of the sheets, enjoying how he has his way with you, enjoying how his hands again make their way to your boobs playing with your nipples and enjoying how he moans your name softly. The sounds of your bodies clashing over and over again fill the room. He quickly figures out how he needs to take you to have you begging. When you start whimpering his name, he pulls out and flips you over and fills you with his cock again. “I’m so close. I need to see your pretty face.” He explains. Your mouth hangs open as no sounds come out. He holds your face in his hand as he watches you with lustfull eyes while rutting into you hitting your sensitive spot harder each time. A pleading moan leaves your lips and you pull Mattheo close, hiding in the crook of his neck, as your walls clench around him. Letting your second orgasm wash over you. After that it only takes a few hard thrusts to have you now both reaching your high.

He lets his cock rest inside you for a few seconds loving the idea of being inside of you, of having you. Mattheo’s possessive side definitely shows as he holds you the entire night, shamelessly admiring your body, but also treating you like a goddess.

And as requested a tag for @crossedskulls 😊

[endthedream]

someday

pairings: teacher!jake x single mom!reader

summary: Being a single mom to a 6 year old daughter isn’t always easy, and it doesn’t help that her class teacher awakens feelings inside of you, you haven’t felt in a long time. Will the love between you blossom, or will your complicated life drive you apart?

words: 11.6k

story colour: green

warnings: one heavy (?) make out session and a lot of tension

masterlist of ‘enhypen as jobs’

Life can change.

From one second to another, everything can change. Everything you have once known to be normal, everything you were used to. It all can get ripped away from you in the matter of a few seconds.

From one second to another a seventeen-year-old girl finds out she got pregnant from a boy that wasn’t ready to commit to a life like that yet and parents that felt nothing but disappointment towards their teenage daughter.

From one second to another this girl had to move away, raise a child on her own and build a life save for them to live in. She had to find a job with a steady income, find people who could help her and put all her needs aside for the small bundle of life she brought into the world.

Not only did she have to change her life, but she also had to rebuild it. She had to create a new, healthier and secure one. Suddenly it wasn’t about what outfit to wear to school, how to sneak out to go to a party or new drama that happened at school. It was about changing diapers, sleepless nights caused by a toothing child and soothing countless emotional outbreaks. It was about raising her child, teaching kindness and blaming every bad thing on herself.

But at the end of the day, it was being grateful, loving the child unconditionally and not being able to imagine her life any different. It was feeling purpose, feeling needed and feeling loved. It was showing exactly that love to her child and never letting her forget that.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Listening to the waves crashing against the shore, you soak in the last moments of this morning, the soft rays of sun on your face, the slight breeze making your cheeks rosy and the faint sound of birds chirping somewhere close by. You soak in this moment, because moments like this are rare in the life you’re living, quiet and undisturbed, protected from all the daily stress and complications.

You breathe in the air one last time, before you see someone approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Look mommy, I found a pretty shell.”, your 6-year-old daughter Nuri says as she holds her hand out for you to see. You show her a bright smile, admiring the pretty shell in her hands. Your daughter has always been a collector, shells, flowers, rocks, even leaves, nothing is safe from her. And it’s something you love about her. How she sees the beauty in the small things, always so eager to show you the new things she discovered, with her big bright eyes.

“It’s so pretty, Nuri. How about you put it into your bag and later we will get the other shells you collected and make a pretty necklace out of them?” You watch as the little girl enthusiastically nods, putting the shell carefully into her bag, before sitting down beside you on the blanket you laid over the sand.

“Are you excited about starting school today?”, you ask your daughter, as you gently pull her onto your lap, stroking her hair with one of your hands. Whenever you look at her, you get stunned by how much you see your younger self in her. The more she grows, the more the resemblance grows. But you also realize how awfully fast time passes, and how much has changed since the day you held your little baby in your arms for the first time.

“I am.”, Nuri says, her big eyes almost disappearing as she grins widely at you, showing off her missing front tooth. “But I will also miss kindergarten a lot. And I will miss you too, mommy.”

In an instant, tears fill up your eyes and it takes you a moment to swallow them down, not wanting Nuri to see you like that. You could cry after you dropped her off at school, but for now, those tears will have to stay hidden. “I will miss you too, sweet girl. But it is just a few hours that we don’t see each other. Every day after school I will pick you up and we can do whatever we want to do, okay?”

Nuri nods her head again, before wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Do you think I will make any friends?”

“Of course, you will.”, you tell her, truthfully. Your daughter, in contrary to you, never had problems talking to others. She is a social butterfly, making friends wherever she goes. You admire her for that, wanting to have the same trait. Because while she plays with all the kids in the playground, you can only watch the other mothers sit together, talking about everything and nothing. Part of you wants to just go up to them, ask them if you could join them, but the other part of you feels anxious, scared of getting judged, the way you always do. Being a mom so young has only brought you trouble, wherever you go. And while Nuri is the best thing that has happened to you, others seem to not support that opinion.

If you got a dollar for every time someone told you that you would destroy your kids future, or that you are way too young to have this kind of responsibility, you would be rich by now. Everywhere you go, if it’s grocery shopping, getting gas, at restaurants, people try to give you advice or comment on the things that apparently went wrong with your life, without even knowing you or your story. You heard everything, from your parents not raising you right or having daddy issues because your dad left you when you were young, to being whore that slept around until she eventually got pregnant.

But they don’t know that it was just a simple accident. That it was two teenagers having their first times together, being nervous and not really knowing what to do. It was two teenagers who didn’t think and had to deal with the consequences of their moment together. Well, at least one did. It wasn’t your parents’ fault; it wasn’t you sleeping around. It was just something that happened, unplanned but not unwanted.

And they don’t know that ever since Nuri came into your life, everything felt like it had a purpose. You felt like you had a purpose. Being a mother has made you find out who you truly are, and what you truly want. It made you more aware of the process of growing up, and made you realize all the stupid things you did as a teenager. It helped you through the hardest times and gave you something to hold on to, a reason to fight. Nuri is the reason you wake up every day, the reason you can get out of bed and the reason you finally have a routine in your life.

And you truly believe that it was meant to happen. You were meant to get pregnant with her and build up a life for the both of you.

“If someone will make a lot of friends, it’s you. I just know that everyone will love you, just how I know that I love you, so so much.”

-

It’s a weird feeling, picking your daughter up from her first day of school. You watch all the kids run up to their parents, excited little faces, already going on and on about everything that happened while they spend a few hours apart.

And while you’re waiting for your daughter to exit the school, you realize you can’t wait to be with her again, to hear her tell all the stories about her experiences on her first day, to get ice cream with her and make necklaces and bracelets. You realize that this must be harder for you than for her. She doesn’t realize the quickness in which she grows up, but you do.

It feels like yesterday when she was still in your belly. It feels like yesterday when she took her first steps, falling face first to the ground. It feels like yesterday when she said her first words, going up to every stranger in the grocery store and proudly repeating that word to them. It feels like yesterday when she lost her favorite toy and cried for two days straight. When you threw a little goodbye party for that toy with her and explained to her that maybe another child found her toy and gave it a new home, only to find the toy four days later under your bed. And it feels like yesterday when she came into your room, telling you she had a nightmare. She crawled into your bed and shortly before sleep took over, she whispered that you are the best mommy in the whole world.

All these memories start crashing over you, one by one. Tears fill your eyes yet again, and it takes everything in you to blink them away, not wanting to break down in front of all these strangers.

“Mommy.”, you hear her voice before you see her. Turning in the direction of the voice, you see your daughter running up to you, her arms wide open. You kneel down, opening your arms yourself and a bright smile lighting up all your features.

“Hey, my sweet girl.”, you say as you wrap her tightly into your arms. All the sadness you felt a moment ago washes away the moment you relish in the feeling of having the most important person in your life in your arms. “How was your first day?”

“It was so amazing, mommy. We learned a new song and ate a lot of fruits together. I made a lot of friends, and all my teachers are so nice.” You can’t help but smile brightly at the excitement of your daughter. “Do we have some time before we go home? I want you to meet my teacher. He is still in the classroom, so we have to hurry.”

Before you can answer, Nuri already takes off with your hand in hers, leading you inside the school and to her classroom. You marvel at all the colorful decoration, the helpful quotes and the artistic pictures. “Hello, Mr. Sim.”, your daughter says, excitedly waving at her teacher.

You take another step into the classroom, looking for the man that is busy packing his bag. But when he turns around and shows your daughter a bright smile, it almost takes your breath away. You never expected a teacher to look this… gorgeous. Mr. Sim looks young, your age probably, his skin is soft and glowing, his eyes a deep shade of brown and his black hair framing his perfect face. He has full, pink lips and a smile so bright, it resembles a puppy.

“Hey, Nuri. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your way home?” Even his voice sounds like it was dipped into honey and laced with cream and sprinkles. It does something to you, you haven’t felt in a really long time.

“I wanted you to meet my mommy.”, she says, pointing over at you. And the moment Mr. Sim’s eyes meet you, you can feel something in the air change. A uncuttable tension fills the room, and you can’t stop staring at him. You can’t stop looking at his perfect face and his perfect eyes and his perfect lips. You feel ashamed for feeling this way, for thinking about your daughter’s teacher that way, but you can’t help yourself. “Mr. Sim this is my mommy.”

��Hi.”, he says, his voice breaking with this simple word. “I’m Mr. Sim, but you can call me Jake.” Jake wipes his hand on his pants before reaching it out for you to take, which you do. Gently you place your hand in his, giving it a soft shake, almost sighing at the feeling of this small contact. Jake has big hands, long fingers and veins traveling up his arms, but his skin is so soft and smooth it almost doesn’t seem fair.

“I’m Y/N, Nuri’s mom.” You almost punch yourself for sounding so weak and pathetic. The last thing you want is for Nuri’s teacher to know what an effect his mere presence has on you. “Are you Nuri’s class teacher?”

“For now, yeah. I’m a substitute teacher since their actual teacher got into an accident and has to rest for probably a few months. I was meant to start at another school but got transferred here last minute.” You could listen to him speak for hours. “But you probably don’t care about that.” He chuckles softly, letting a hand nervously glide through his silky hair. “What you probably do care about is that we have a parents’ conference next week. I wanted to send an e-mail to every parent, but you know, seeing as you are here, I just wanted to let you know beforehand.”

You nod at him, showing him a small appreciative smile. “Thank you, Jake. I will see what I can do to come. Maybe someone will have the time to look after Nuri for a few hours.”

Jake nods one time, then another, before letting his hand fall to his side. “It’s a pretty important conference, seeing that this has a lot of information about the first school year. Maybe her father can look after her, so you can come.” You can hear the lingering note in his sentence, subconsciously knowing that he’s testing the waters.

“Nuri’s father is not in her life.”, you say, looking down at your daughter who only smiles up at you. “It’s just us, right, sweet pee?”

“Yep.”, she says, nodding her head a few times. “Our house is a girls’ only zone.” Jake chuckles at the words of the little girl in front of him. He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and takes out his phone to hand it to you.

“You can see if you find someone to look after her for a few hours and if not, you can just text me and we will find a solution. Is that okay with you?” Stunned, you take his phone, seeing his contact list already open.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Thank you so much, Mr. Sim.”

“Jake.”, he tells you again, a gentle smile resting on his lips. “You can just call me Jake, okay?”

-

“God, it was so embarrassing.”, Jake says as he drinks a sip from his coke. “I kept on rambling and stuttering. Like my hands got all sweaty and I couldn’t even really look her in the eyes.”

He hears his friends laughing at him to which he just frowns. Jake knows the way he acted around you, his student’s mom, wasn’t appropriate, but it was like the moment he saw you his brain stopped working. All the blood rushed out of it, leaving him stupid and unable to form thought through sentences. It was like he was sixteen all over again. A teenager nervous around pretty girls, unable to talk to them without making a foul out of himself.

“Dude, you seem down bad for her.”, Jay, his friend, says, not being able to hide the amusement in his voice. It’s been a while since the boys heard any stories about women in Jake’s life. Jake always tried to keep in love life as clear as possible, only looking for something serious and whenever he noticed the other person wasn’t reciprocating the same feeling, he ended whatever it was between him and the other person. Ever since Jake was young, he had one wish and that was to be in love. To love unconditionally, find someone who feels the same way and spend the rest of his life with them. To marry, have kids and grow old together. That’s what Jake always wanted, and still does to this day. But finding someone with the same wish turned out to be harder than he thought it would.

“But doesn’t she have a kid? Doesn’t that mean she has a husband, or boyfriend?”, Sunghoon asks, joining in on the conversation.

Jake just shakes his head, sighing as he lets his free hand nervously glide through his hair. “No, I already asked her. It’s apparently just her and her daughter. But I don’t know where the father is, didn’t think it would be appropriate to ask her that.”

“Wait. You asked her about a man in her life?”, Heesungs’ eyes are wide, and he has to swallow the laugh that threatens to leave his lips. “Bro, there is no way, you had the balls to do that. She definitely knows that you are interested in her.”

“What?”, Jake exclaims, bewilderedly looking at his friends. “What do you mean she knows I am interested in her?”

“Bro, you asked if she has a boyfriend or not, that’s the first sign of testing the waters, checking if she’s single. Everyone knows that and I bet she does too.”

Jake lets his head fall into his hands, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. “She probably thinks I am a weirdo. God, what if she doesn’t want her child to be in a class with a teacher that was shamelessly hitting on her? What if she tells the other parents and I’m going to get kicked out of that school?”

“Jake.”, Sunghoon puts a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I doubt she would do that. And come on, maybe she is interested in you as well. Look at you, you are an attractive man. Don’t overthink this whole thing, okay?”

-

“And they lived happier ever after. The end.”, you finish reading the bedtime story for Nuri, closing the book and putting it on her nightstand.

“Mommy?”, you hear her quiet voice asking for you. Immediately, you take her hand, showing her a soft smile. She looks so small with her eyes just half open, tiredness written all over her face.

“Yes, sweety?”

“Do you like Mr. Sim?” The question surprises you, makes you take a few deep breaths before feeling ready to answer.

“I think he is a lovely person. He seems very sweet to you. Why do you ask that?”

Nuri adjusts her position, trying to open her eyes more to look at you clearly. “I think you are in love with him. Mrs. Kim said that when someone is in love with another person, they get very nervous and start stuttering in their sentences. She told me that you can’t stop looking at the person and that you seem kind of starstruck. Just like the way I look at ice cream.” She hugs her little teddy bear closer to her chest before continuing. “That’s how you looked today when you looked at Mr. Sim.”

You can’t help but shake your head as you hear the words your elderly neighbor has told your daughter. But it shouldn’t surprise you. Mrs. Kim has always been a hopeless romantic, going on and on about how you will find the right guy for you, that you just have to be patient. She has been watching over Nuri ever since she was a little baby, and it was bound to happen that at some point she would fill your daughter’s head with this nonsense.

“I am not in love with Mr. Sim, baby. I don’t even know him.”

“But you could get to know him. And then you will fall in love with him and live happily ever after with him, just like in the stories you read me every night.” You can hear something underlying in your daughter’s voice. Something she hides as she speaks those words.

“Nuri, why do you want me to fall in love with Mr. Sim?”, you ask her, squeezing her hand softly. You can see the sadness forming on her little face and it breaks your heart seeing her like this. Whatever it is that she was thinking at that moment, must have been on her mind for a long time.

“Ever since last year the kids in kindergarten asked me why I don’t have a dad. Every kid there has a dad, just not me. I want to have a dad, too, just like all the other children do.” Small tears start dripping down her cheeks, and you can’t hide the ones threatening to leave your eyes too.

“Oh, my sweet girl. Come here.” You gently pull her into a hug, cradling her head in your hands. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I didn’t want to make you sad. I know that talking about my dad makes you very sad, and I don’t want you to be sad, mommy.” Twice, you felt your heart break within a few minutes. You hadn’t realized the effect this theme has on you, the sadness that still lingers whenever you think about her father. You hadn’t realized that your daughter noticed that. Your empathetic six-year-old daughter. A part of you feels proud of her for being such a sweet considerate little girl, but the other part is scared of how much other stuff she has noticed.

“Nuri, I am so sorry for not talking a lot about your father with you. I promise I will answer you every question about him in the future. And I am not sad when you mention him, okay? It is so important for you to communicate your feelings with me. When something worries you, you can always come to me and tell me about it, no matter what, okay?” You can feel her nod against your chest, her little hands wiping away the tears on her face. “Good. Now try to sleep, sweety. You need to have a lot of energy for school tomorrow. I love you, Nuri.”

“I love you too, mommy.”

-

You feel nervous as you park at the school building. There are several cars there already, all parents who will also be at the conference. Anxiety builds up in your belly, the fears of judgement towards you rising inside of you. This happened a lot at parent conferences when Nuri was still in kindergarten. The parents would be delighted to see you at first, asking if you are her sister but when they find out you are her mom, all you got was weird looks and whispers from other parents. It made you almost skip every conference after that, but you had to go, for Nuri’s sake. So, it’s understandable why your hands are shaking as you enter the school.

You dropped Nuri off at Mrs. Kim’s appartement, not before telling her to stop bringing Nuri’s hope of you getting a boyfriend up. A part of you knows that Mrs. Kim didn’t mean it with any bad intention, but you still don’t want Nuri to think that she will get a dad. Her real father is still uninterested to be in her life, and you don’t think that will change any time soon, and bringing a new father figure into her life is something you are still afraid of. People these days are not looking for serious commitment, they get scared when they hear about the child in your life, and they leave before anything serious can even start to develop. And the last thing you want is to introduce someone to Nuri’s life, just to have them leave a few weeks later. You don’t want to do that to her.

“Y/N.”, you hear someone call out for you and when you turn around you are greeted with the bright smile of no other than Sim Jake. “You made it. I am so happy to see you.”

“Yeah, sorry for not texting you. I kind of forgot about it with the whole stress I was having the best few days.” Jake seems to only smile brighter at your words, one of his hands nervously scratching the back of his neck. It gives you a moment to take him in. He is wearing a baggy pair of blue jeans with a black button up shirt, the arms of his shirt rolled up, exposing his arms. You can’t help but to let your eyes trail to his hands, his beautiful hands, but before you let yourself trail off too long, you let your eyes wander back to his, only to be met by a smirking Jake. Jake noticed your wandering gaze, the way your eyes shamelessly roamed his body. And he can’t say he isn’t flattered.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. I’m just glad to see you again. I hope you are, too.” You can hear the shift in his voice, the confidence and pride in it. And it makes a shiver run down your spine. “But we should go inside the classroom, before the parents get worried where I am.”

For the whole conference, you try to stay focused, to take notes and remember everything Jake was telling the parents, but your mind always drifted off. You got lost staring at the way he was talking so animatedly with his hands, biting his lip, and licking it with his tongue after every sentence, and how he brushes his hair out of his eyes every few seconds. And looking around, you notice that you don’t seem to be the only one staring at Jake. Some other mothers in the room developed a certain fascination with the young teacher, tugging their hair behind their ears and looking at him with a starstruck gaze. Watching them, you notice that you must look the same way when you look at Jake, just how Nuri told you. And it makes an embarrassed flush appear on your cheeks. You should really get yourself together. This is the teacher of your daughter, you shouldn’t be thinking about him in that way, shouldn’t be staring at him with such hungry eyes.

So, when you Jake announces the end of the conference, you can’t help but to hastily back your things into your back and make your way to head out of the classroom. “Y/N.” But Jake’s voice stops you from that. “Can you stay back a bit? I want to talk to you.” You turn around and give him a quick and shy nod, before sitting down on one of the chairs again and waiting for all the other parents to leave. Which turns out to take longer than you thought it would, almost all of the moms line up in front of him, asking him questions and wanting his attention.

Every now and then you see the look on Jake’s face, the tight-lipped smile and the alarming eyes, seeming almost uncomfortable. But you could be wrong about that impression.

Finally, the last one left, leaving only you and Jake in the classroom. He turns to you, a soft and honest looking smile on his lips. “Thank you for waiting, Y/N. I really appreciate that.” You smile back at him, standing up so you can walk over to him.

“Why did you want me to stay back?”, you ask him as you stop in front of him, looking up at him with your wide eyes. Jake seems to be losing the ability to talk again, your eyes driving him crazy. You give him the type of look that makes him want to press you against the next wall and kiss you until your lungs give out.

“I wanted to ask you how you liked the conference.” His voice is low and coarse, and he has to clear his throat a few times to get rid of the lump in it.

“You wanted me to stay back just so you could ask me how I liked the parents conference?”, you ask him, eyebrows raised in a question.

“Yes?”, he answers, his yes almost sounding like a question itself. He scratches the back of his neck again, feeling suddenly so self-conscious. “I mean it was my first time doing something like this and I guess I just wanted to know how I was. You know, if I came across as nervous or insecure.”

You shake your head at him, a constant smile on your lips. “Jake, you did so well. Everyone in this room liked you, and you seemed so confident when you talked about everything. Believe me, no one could have done it better than you.”

Jake feels his heart swell at your words, not having thought you would say something like that to him. It has been a long time since Jake has gotten praised in such a way, and it does something to him, something he can’t admit to himself.

“Thank you.”, he mumbles, a faint bit of blush on his cheeks. “Hearing that means a lot to me.”

You gently squeeze his arm, showing him another bright smile. “No need to thank me. I am just telling you the truth.” You take a step back again, hand sinking back to your side. “But I sadly have to go now. I have to pick up Nari since it’s a school night and I don’t want her to stay awake for too long.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”, Jake quickly says, walking to his bag and starting to pack in his things. “Give me a second, I will walk you to your car.”

-

This has been the third time in four months that you were too late to pick up Nuri from school. With the newfound time, your boss thought it was a good idea to give you more work, and normally you would decline this amount of work, since it gives you less time that you can spend with Nuri. But more work also means more money, and you need it more desperately than ever lately. The rent in your apartment got raised, fuel got more expensive and all the school stuff that you had to buy also didn’t make your bank account look good.

With your head lowered and guilt tripping down every part of your body, you walk into Nuri’s school. As you step into her classroom, your eyes widen. Jake is sitting beside Nuri on a desk, drawing inside a book with her, while talking to her with a soft smile on his face.

“There you are Ms. Park.”, you can hear the voice of Nuri’s other teacher Mrs. Song.  “We waited for you for 30 minutes now. This is the third time this has happened, and I cannot tell you how disappointed I am with your punctuality. I get that you are young, but that doesn’t give you the right to abandon your own child for whatever party activity you have to do.”

Almost immediately you feel the guilt replace itself with anger. You know that picking up your child too late is irresponsible, but claiming you abandon your child and go partying is reaching too high. You feel like you’re seventeen-year-old you all over again, when everyone told you that you won’t be able to raise a child, that your child will grow up traumatized, wishing they had all the things other kids her age have. They told you to give Nuri up for adoption, that it would be the best possibility at your age.

“I am so sorry I was late picking up Nuri, again. But your accusations are what are disappointing here. As a teacher you shouldn’t have such prejudices against parents. Yes, I am young, but that doesn’t mean I am not able to love and provide for my daughter. Live on day in my shoes and see how well you can manage it.”

A short beat of silence fills the room, and before Mrs. Song can open her mouth to say another word, Jake speaks up first. “Mrs. Song, how about you take Nuri to one of the vending machines and get her a snack, while I talk to Ms. Park.”

With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Song nods, taking Nuri’s hand and walking out of the room with her, leaving you and Jake alone. “Y/n.” He gently says as he walks over to you. And there is something about his voice, so gentle and caring and something about his presence so comfortable and safe, that makes the tears in your eyes break their way free to roll over your cheeks. “Oh, come here.”

Jake gently pulls you into his arms, one hand on your back, comfortingly stroking it, and the other on your head. You wrap your own arms tightly around him and allow yourself for the first time in months to let it all out, the stress, the hurt, the pain, the longing, everything. A sob wracks through your whole body, and it breaks Jake’s heart. He doesn’t know how to help you, what to do to take all this pain away from you. So, all he does is pull you closer – if that’s even possible – and whisper encouraging words into your ear.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, Jake gently asks as he pulls away from the hug, taking your face in his hands and wiping the tears on your face away with his thumbs.

You close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm down from your little breakdown, before starting to talk to him. “Everything has just been so hard lately. I can barely pay rent, I have to work longer and harder to earn all the money I need, and Nuri hasn’t stopped talking and asking questions about her dad. I try to act unbothered by it, but if your daughter talks about the boy that has not only broken your heart but left you alone when you most needed him, it makes you relive it all over again. And I just feel like the worst mom on earth for not being able to give Nuri the live she deserves. Everyone is telling me that over and over again, what if they are right?”

“No.”, Jake says shaking his head. He cups your cheek with one hand, the other one taking its place on your waist. “Listen to me. You are an amazing mom, Y/n. God, half of the people that say those mean things want to be just like you. You sacrificed so much to provide for your daughter and that is more than just admirable. You should be proud of yourself, not doubt yourself. Nuri loves you. In fact, you are all she ever talks about. She admires you so much, Y/n, and she loves you with all her heart. That’s what matters the most.”

More tears start to stream down your cheeks, and you whisper a quiet ‘thank you’ to Jake, before pulling him back into your arms. He holds you close, leaving a gentle kiss at your temple every now and then. “How about we get Nuri and then we go out for ice cream? I don’t want to leave you alone right now.”

You nod against his chest, not ready to let go of him yet. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”

-

Something changed between you and Jake after that day. It started with texts, him checking up on you every now and then, seeing if you need help. Then it developed to calls, once a week, talking about your feelings and worries, but those calls quickly got more frequent and happened every night after you put Nuri down to sleep. And you don’t know how it happened or when it happened, but now you find yourself getting ready to meet him for the first time in another place other than Nuri’s school.

“I think the purple top looks prettier on you, mommy.” Nuri says from where she sits on your bed. You have been changing outfits for an hour now, never finding the right thing to wear.

“You think so?”, you ask as you put it over put it on yet again. “I think you are right. This should be good enough.” You turn around to face Nuri, just to see her snuggled up with her teddy bear, big eyes watching you attentively. “You ready to spend some time with Mrs. Kim, sweety?”

You are answered with a wild nod and a bright smile. You know you could just take her with you, Jake wouldn’t mind that at all, but there is a part of you that really wants to spend some time with him alone. Just you and him.

You shouldn’t feel selfish about it, but you do. You feel like you put your own needs before your daughters’ ones. You know it’s far reached since this is the first time in a while that Mrs. Kim has to look after Nuri, but you hate depending on people. You hate having to drop Nuri off somewhere when you have plans. You hate that you can’t do this alone.

“Hey, pretty girl.”, Jake says as he sits down beside you on the picknick blanket you pulled out for the two of you, a bright smile is on his beautiful lips. “Can I ask you why exactly you wanted to meet here?”

You look at the ocean in front of you, at the soft waves crashing against the shore, glowing under the soft light of the sun peeking through the clouds. There is something magical about this place, something you can’t describe in words.

“I used to come here all the time when I was pregnant with Nuri. It was the only place that seemed to calm me down. I guess I just wanted to share that with you. You have become a very comforting part of my life, and I just thought you would like this place as much as I do.”

There is something in Jake eyes that changes the moment you speak those words. They seem to go lighter, wider, like a little puppy. It makes all the blood in your body rush right up in your cheeks and lets goosebumps rise over your skin. It makes you think about things you aren’t supposed to think, feel things that definitely aren’t appropriate to be thought in public.

Jake takes one of your hands, giving it a tight squeeze before sighing gently and looking out into the sea. You follow his gaze, admiring the sand glittering in the sunlight and listening to the sounds of the seals far off on the water. Both of you relish in the tranquility of the moment, no words needed.

“It’s my birthday next week,” Jake says after a few minutes. “I am throwing a small party. Just me and my three friends and I wanted to know if you want to come as well.”

You look at him only to be met with his hopeful, big eyes. He shows you an encouraging smile, and for a moment you unlearn the ability to speak. “Uhm, yeah, sure. Is it okay if I bring Nuri with me? I hate having to leave her at Mrs. Kims place all the time.”

“Of course, I was assuming she was going to come as well.” Your heart swells at his words, appreciating his attentive soul. You know how much Jake grew fond of Nuri. He talks about her approvements in school all the time, telling you about funny jokes she makes or impressive questions she asks. Jake tells you how smart and polite she is, and how she always tries to include everyone into the little friend group she built. He also tells you how well you raised her, and how proud he is of you for that, but that’s not something you want to focus on, because it makes you think about inappropriate things.

“Then we will definitely be there.” Jake shows you another one of his bright smiles, white teeth on his display. Sometimes when you look at him, through the phone or in real life, you wonder what it is the two of you have. You wonder if it is just a friendship the two of you are building up, or if it is more than that. There are moments- you don’t know if you are imagining them or if they are real- where the tension between you heightens, so much it could be cut with a knife. There are moments in which it feels like if one of you makes a move something is going to happen, something big and heavy. There are moments in which you think that this could be it. This could be yours forever. It sounds crazy, farfetched, but Jake is the type of person you always wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He is the kind of person, you know would treat you right, the kind of person that would have a good influence on Nuri. You know you two haven’t fully gotten to know each other. Jake may be in a completely different chapter of his life. He may not want to commit to something so serious, especially since he is only at the start of his teaching job, or because he is too young to think about having a family. You don’t know what this is between you guys and while you desperately want an answer to that question, you don’t want to risk losing whatever it is the two of your built up in the past weeks.

But when you look at Jake again you can feel the same tension, heavy and thick. You notice his eyes darkening, the way he licks his lips more often and glances down at your own every few seconds. One move, it will just take one move, and one of you is going to break the distance between the two of you.

Jake gently places one hand on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth burning through the material of your jeans and right onto your skin. You have to swallow the gasp that threatens to leave your lips, shocked at what such a little touch from him does to you. His hand travels further up and it almost feels impossible for you to think clearly. Every last piece of sanity left your body the moment Jake touched you and all you can focus on is him. Him and his plump lips, him and his big hands that are touching you in the most alluring way. And him and his big brown eyes, pulling you in and hypnotizing you.

“Y/n.”, he whispers, voice hoarse and rough. Suddenly, his face is closer, lips almost touching yours. You just have to lean forward a little more, but you are frozen, lost in his scent. You want him, you need him. Everything inside of you screams for him, in a way you have never experienced. Your body is pulled towards him like a magnet, and you need him to take you home to him right now. 

But before any of you can suggest that a voice calls out for Jake in the background. Almost immediately the two of you pull away from each other, awkwardly looking around. “Hey Jake. I knew that was your big head.” A man, around your age, approaches the two of you. He is tall, with black hair and a few prominent moles on his face. His smile reveals two little fangs which you find quite adorable.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you have any company.” The man awkwardly glances at the two of you, noticing that he just interrupted something between the two of you.

“All good, bro.”, Jake says, not being able to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Y/n, this is Sunghoon. One of my friends I told you about.” You show Sunghoon a polite smile, reaching one hand out to for him to take.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sunghoon.” Sunghoon can’t hide the surprised look on his face as he takes your hand and gives it a quick shake.

“Hold on, you are Y/n?” You nod your head at him, confused as to why he was reacting like that towards you. “Wow, I heard a lot about you.” From the corner of your eyes, you can see Jakes head falling into his hands, as he lets out a frustrated grunt. A smug grin appears on your lips as you cock your head at the boy in front of you.

“I hope you only heard good stuff.”

“You best believe it was only good stuff. Jake won’t stop talking about you. All day long he goes on about ‘Y/n is so-“ But before he can continue his sentence, Jake slaps one of his hands on the mouth of his friend, shutting him up indefinitely.

“That’s enough from you, Sunghoon. Man, you never know when to shut up.” Jake mumbles that last part, but you hear it anyway. All the doubt you had in your mind earlier leaves your head. Maybe Jake does want you the way you want him. Maybe he really is different than all the other man you met.

“Well as much as I wanted to hear whatever your friend had to say, I have to go now. It was nice meeting you, Sunghoon. And we will call later, right?” As you ask the last question, you look at Jake, eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer.

“Yes, of course. I will call you.”

“Okay, then see you later.” You give Jake a quick kiss on the cheek and show Sunghoon a last goodbye smile, before grabbing your things and walking to your car, leaving an embarrassed Jake and a widely grinning Sunghoon behind.

“So, this is Y/n, huh? Man, now I get why you won’t stop talking about her. She is hot.”

“Hey, come on. Don’t talk about her like that.” Jake shakes his head, blowing out some air from his lungs and closing his eyes for a moment to clear his still foggy mind. He still hasn’t recovered from the moment you two had just a few minutes ago. Jake was so close to kissing you, so close to asking you to go somewhere private, because he knows you felt it too. He knows you could feel the tension in the air, the arousal dripping from your body. He knows it, and he could feel it by the way your body was reacting to him. “She is so much more than just hot.”

“I’m just saying.” Sunghoon shrugs his shoulders, reaching one hand out to help Jake stand back up. “I’m glad you finally found someone, Jake. Happiness looks good on you.”

-

Nuri and you spent three hours baking and decorating the cupcakes for Jakes’ birthday party, and judging by the way Jakes friends stuff them into their mouths, it was worth the effort.

At first you were worries bringing Nuri to a birthday party with three strange men she doesn’t know but watching her giggle at the cream smeared faces of Jakes’ friends, all the worry flew right of the window. From the moment you entered the apartment the boys made it their life mission to entertain Nuri. They went from playing tea party, to performing dance routines, to laying on the ground and acting like they are mermaids. There was not one single wish Nuri expressed, that they didn’t grant in a heartbeat. She wants them to put on lipstick and towels as dresses to make a fashion show. Done. She wants them to act like knights and protect the princess- her- from a dangerous attack. Done. She wants them to carry her around, spin her in circles and throw her high up in the air every five minutes. Done.

And you can see that Nuri enjoys all the attention she is getting. She thrives in it, and it gives you a sense of relief.

“They are so good with children.”, you tell Jake who is sitting beside you, watching as Nuri counts down from ten to search for Sunghoon, Jay and Heeseung in a game of hide and seek.

“They are.”, Jake says, resting his head on your shoulder. “They all want children someday. We had that conversation before, so I knew that they would also love it when Nuri comes over.”

“And you?”, you ask Jake, looking down at him. “Do you want children?”

You can feel him smile from where he has his face buried in your neck. He leaves a gentle kiss at the space between your shoulder and your neck, before lifting his head to look into your eyes. “Yes.” There is no sign of hesitation in his voice, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. “Yes, I really want kids.”

“Now, or in a few years?”

“I don’t care.”, he says, grabbing one of your hands, and playing with your fingers just for a few seconds, before intertwining your fingers. “If now or in five years, I’m ready to have kids. I’ve always wanted them. Why would you think I work at an elementary school?” You can feel the weight lifting from your shoulders. This question has been bothering you for some time now, and now that it’s finally out and is answer is so fitting, you can’t fight the smile lighting up your face.

“Hey, you two love birds. I hate to interrupt your little moment, but I just wanted to ask you if it’s okay that we take Nuri to the playground a street down from here?”, Heeseung asks, looking straight at you. “Ever since we told her about the playground, she has been begging us to take her there. I swear we won’t be long, and we will take good care of her. I swear, I will never leave her out of my sight and stay by her side the whole time.”

This isn’t something you would normally do. You wouldn’t trust someone you barely know to take your child somewhere, but it’s something about the way they took care of her today that makes you trust them. And you trust Jake. You trust him to know what kind of people to introduce to your daughter. “Of course, yes.”, you tell Heseeung, smiling as you see the excitement on his face. “Just make sure to be back by dinner and to not let her on the swing for too long. She always gets sick when she’s on it for a longer time.” With one last nod and a ‘We promise to take the best care in the world about her’, they are out of the door.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize that you and Jake are alone. And it takes another few seconds for you to face the man sitting beside you. There it again, the look in his eyes, making you weak in his knees.

1, 2, 3 seconds pass and Jake can’t handle this silence anymore. He can’t handle the way you look at him and what it does to him. With one tug, Jake pulls you closer and it doesn’t take him long before he presses his lips against yours.

This is different than any kiss you have ever experienced. Jake kisses with a passion, with a longing, you have never felt before. His hands are on your body, in your hair, holding your cheeks. He pulls you onto his lap, never once stopping the heated kiss. You have your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, needing to feel him everywhere.

There is an urgency in the kiss, a need to big it’s going to explode. Every pent of thought or longing the both of you have kept to yourself over the past week flows right into the kiss. It’s wild, passionate and so indescribable good. You can feel it tingling all over your body, waking up needs you didn’t know you have, thoughts you always tried to repress. Jakes hands wander over your body again, your thighs, your hips, your waist, your back. And it makes you moan softly into the kiss, breaking free just to take a deep breath which gives Jake enough time to explore the soft skin of your neck. He trails down kisses, stopping at the point where he feels your pulse and licking the sensitive skin.

Another soft moan slips out of your lips, and it drives Jake crazy. It makes his head spin and takes his breath away. There is no clear thought in his head anymore, everything is clouded by the pleasure of this moment. His hands pull you closer to him, eyes closing at the feeling of you, and you have to take another deep breath before whispering your next words.

“Take me to your room, Sim Jake.”

-

“You’re so beautiful.”, Jake whispers as he raises his hand to softly stroke your hair out of your face.

“Good morning to you too.” You have been waking up to the sight of Jake for the past few months now, and no matter how many times you see him like this, you never get used to the sight. His hair messy from the night’s sleep, his naked chest shining in the morning sun and his puffy pink lips puffy from the night before. He is gorgeous, ethereal even. No word describes the beauty he is carrying.

Jake pulls you into his arms so that your head lays on his chest and his arms are tightly around you. “I will never get used to this.”, he whispers. “This is a dream come true.”

“What is a dream come true?”

“You. This. Waking up next to you, getting to spend every day with you and Nuri. This, this is perfect.” You close your eyes, letting this moment sink in for a while. You capture it, take a mental photo and put it in a special box somewhere in your brain, so when things get hard again, this moment will remind you how easy life can be.

“I love you.”, you whisper softly, kissing his chest a few times before laying your head back down on it.

“I love you too, Y/n.” His voice is louder, clearer, like he never wants to hide those words from you, ever. “And I want this, forever. I know I have to move away soon for my job at another school, but we will make this work. I want to make this work. It’s just a two-hour drive, that’s practically nothing.”

You lift your head to look at Jake, admiring the soft glow of his skin. There is an ounce of doubt lingering in the air. You know that his move will complicate things for you. Visiting will be hard with Nuri having to go to school and you having to work every day, but there are always weekends. And if Jake believes that the two of you can make it work, then you will.

So, you nod your head, scooting up to leave a few kisses on his plump, puffy lips. “We can make this work. We will have to.”

-

The sun is shining brightly as you pull up to the school to pick Nuri up. Normally you would wait in the car until she walks out of the school, but since Nuri had an ‘end of the school’ project today, she wanted you to come in and take a look at what she made.

Life has been good, better than good, actually. Everything has been perfect. Jake had become a constant part of your lives, visiting a few times a week and taking the two of you out on trips. Nuri and Jake’s friends- well your friends as well now- have grown incredibly close. She doesn’t talk about anything else other than the boys and how fun it is to spend time with them. They have grown closer to you too, finding a weird kind of solace whenever you are around them.

Everything is the way you always wanted it to be. And sometimes you catch yourself thinking that everything is too perfect, that something is bound to happen any time soon to destroy the little perfect life you build yourself. But you never thought it would happen this soon.

As you walk inside the school, you search for the classroom where they exhibited the projects, stopping when you hear some voices not far from you. You know it’s rude to eavesdrop but when you hear your name in the conversation, you can’t help but to stop and listen.

“Yeah, apparently she and Jake are in a relationship.”

“What? Really? She is really trying to fuck herself to the top, isn’t she?”

“I mean we could have seen it coming, right? The way she always looked at him, like she wanted to eat him alive. It was concerning. It’s a real wonder he didn’t run away when he still could, but now she got him all under her claws.”

“I have known her since our daughters were in kindergarten, and she has always been like this. Whoring around and not caring about her daughter.”

“I mean I knew she was still young and immature, but that is shocking. First, she carelessly gets knocked up at seventeen and then instead of maturing she stays a naïve little girl who fucks her daughter’s teacher. If I were here, I would be embarrassed.”

“It’s no wonder she has no support from her parents anymore. I wouldn’t support my daughter if she were a disgrace to the family like she is.”

“I mean all that aside, I think she should take the time to mature first. She is still so young, not fit to be a mother. Maybe all she needs is a clear mind before she faces the hardships of life. Maybe no one taught her how to be an adult yet.”

“Are you defending her?”

“No, of course I am not. I’m just saying she needs a wake-up call. Something that will help her get all the horniness out of her mind and get her to take better care of her daughter.”

The world has stopped. You could feel it. The air feels heavier, time doesn’t go on anymore and all sounds went quiet. Everything has stopped, except for the thoughts in your head. A dark heavy cloud forms over your head, raining down on you with an intensity, you didn’t feel in a very long time.

Maybe you jinxed it. Maybe your constant worry of something ruining your perfect little life was the one thing that ruined it all together. You should have known it.

The worst thing is knowing that they are right, not with everything of course. You aren’t ready yet. There is so much you still need to learn, so many lessons you haven’t faced yet. You aren’t ready yet. You need to mature; become a proper adult and you really aren’t ready.

You noticed it a while ago, the lingering feeling in your chest whenever Jake was around, the nagging question in the back of your head. You noticed that there was a part of you- a part that grew stronger and stronger with time- that simply wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. And while whatever the women were saying was rude and uncalled for, they are right. They spoke out what you were too scared of admitting. They spoke out what you were too scared was going to ruin all the things you built up.

You can feel it now too, the pain consuming your heart, filling your lungs, and coursing through your veins. The tears filling your eyes, the stop stuck in your throat. But you can’t let it out, not here, not now. First, you have to be a mother. First, you have to look at Nuri’s project, tell her how proud you are of her and take her home to be the mother she deserves. Later, when she’s in bed, that’s when you can let it all out.

“Excuse me.”, you say, your voice surprisingly stable and strong. All four women turn around in a second, looking at you with wide eyes and open mouths. “I was searching for the classroom where they exhibit the school projects. Would you mind telling me where it is? I don’t want to get caught, what did you call it? Ah, yes, whoring around.”

A loud gasp leaves one of the mothers’ mouths and it takes all the strength in your body not to laugh out loud at their faces. One of the other women points in the direction of the classroom for you, gulping almost visibly as you show her a bright smile.

“Thank you so much.”, you say. As you walk past them, you stop, something nagging in the back of your head. “And don’t be jealous that my needs get satisfied every night, I bet your husbands will keep up eventually.”

-

You know that ignoring Jake’s calls wouldn’t be a good idea, but you didn’t think that he would turn up at your doorstep at 10 pm shortly before you were heading to bed.

You spent the past days thinking about your situation, about your relationship with Jake and your and Nuri’s future. Over and over again did you go through all the solutions in your head, trying to figure out what’s right for you, what you want. Because for once, just one time in your life, you have to think about yourself, what you need.

You thought that it wouldn’t take long for Jake to turn up at your doorstep, but seeing him standing in front of you, hair messy, cheeks tinted in a soft red and a worried look on his face, makes you want to change your mind all over again.

“Hey.”, he says, showing you a forced smile. “Are you okay? I was worried. You’ve been ignoring my calls. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt you? Because if I did then please tell me so I can make it up to you again. I swear the last thing I want is to lose you, but I can’t make it up to you if you don’t talk to me, if you don’t tell me what I did to make you shut me out.” There is an urgency in his voice, pain lingering in his words. You haven’t thought about what the past few days must have felt like for Jake, too caught up in your own head. He tried to call you multiple times and got disappointed every time you didn’t pick up yet again. It must have been torture for him not knowing if he did something wrong, not knowing the reason behind your sudden radio silence.

Looking at him like this, worried and distressed, tears fall down your face almost immediately. “Oh, baby.”, Jake softly coos. Carefully he takes a step towards you and as he notices that you make no move away from him, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “Please talk to me, Y/n. Please tell me what’s going on.”

You clear your throat, shakily wiping away the tears on your face. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jake. Please, you have to believe me that that is the last thing I ever want to do. I love you, so much. Sometimes it scares me just how much I do, but lately I’ve been realizing that I am not ready. I am not ready for this, not ready for a relationship. There is so much in my life that I need to fix, so much about myself that I need to fix. I still haven’t lived, you know? I don’t know what it is to actually live, to find myself, to know what I want and what I need. I have so much to learn. And I know that you would be by my side through whatever I am going through, supporting me and lending me a helping hand. But I realized that I need to do this alone. I need to fight through this on my own and grow from it. We are still so young, Jake, so much in our life can still happen and I don’t want you to get caught up in all of this. Especially since you’re moving away and starting a whole new chapter in your life.”

There is a beat of silence, a few seconds where everything is quiet. You only hear your own heart beating out of your chest. Jake wipes at his eyes, one, two times before he nods, slow and steady. “Okay.”, he whispers. Silence again. It’s like Jake is fighting with himself, having an inner conflict, he doesn’t want to share with you. He blows out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face before looking back at you. His eyes red from the unshed tears.

“Okay, Y/n.”, he repeats again, blinking a few times. “Everything inside of myself is screaming for me to fight for you right now, to tell you that we can work this out and fix those things together. But I know you, and I know that once you made up your mind about something, no one can change that again.” He sighs another time, long and hard. “So, I will let you go. For now, at least. As you said, we are still young. This may be our end now, Y/n, but it won’t be our end forever. I will never give up on you. Someday, I will find you again. Someday, I will make you mine again.” Jake cups one of your cheeks in his hands, gently letting his thumb caress your soft skin. One small tear drops down his face, that is the only one he allows to escape, before he softly places a kiss on your lips. It is not a long kiss, not the type of kiss that leaves you breathless, yearning for more. It’s the type of kiss that is so soft, you wonder if it even happened after it’s over. It’s the type of kiss that rips you open from the inside, tears your heart out and leaves you bleeding out. It’s the type of kiss that makes you want to turn back time and fix all the mistakes you made in your life.

It's the type of kiss that makes you hope for a tomorrow, for a forever.

-

There is nothing you love more than a warm autumn day, watching the leaves fall down the trees, coloring the ground in bright orange and brown shades, or feeling the cold breeze in your hair. You love listening to the rustle of the trees, watching squirrels searching for nuts on the ground and tasting the fresh air on your tongue.

But what you love the most is sitting on a park bench, not one person in sight, with a book in your hand. It has become your favorite activity over the past few years. You read books like it is your job, finally having the time with Nuri almost being eleven years old. It became your little break from reality, something to look forward to on stressful days, something that would ease your mind.

Looking at the watch on your wrist, you realize that it’s almost time to pick Nuri up from her friends’ place, since you promised her to go visit uncle Sunghoon who lives a few streets from you. You put your book back into your bag, swinging it over your shoulder and standing up from where you were sitting to head to your car. But before you could even take one step, you stop in your tracks.

It's been years, you realize. Years since you’ve seen that familiar face. Years since you last hugged him, touched him, kissed him. Years since you heard his voice, seen his face. You almost can’t believe your eyes, thinking that your mind is playing a trick on you. But when you hear him speak for the first time, in what felt like forever, you know that this is real.

“Sunghoon told me I would find you hear.” He steps forward, not stopping until he is right in front of you. His wide, puppy like eyes, look down at you, lips pulled into a wide grin, as he takes the shock on your face. “Hey, Y/n.”

And that’s when it hits you. All the promises he made about not letting you go about making you his again. Now, years later, with everything different, he still intended on making all his promises come true. And you realize that it’s perfect. Right now, it’s perfect. Right now, you can start your forever.

“Hey, Jake.”

Bonus scene

You lean back in the chair on the front porch of the summer house you rented for you and the boys and watch the way Nuri teaches the other kids how to draw a butterfly with chalk. It’s a strange sight to see, Nuri all grown up, taking care of all the small little children. It makes a deep feeling of pride blossom in your chest, admiring just how far you have come.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”, Jake speaks up from the seat beside you. “Just how fast the time passes.”

You let your gaze wander to him, to his perfect face with his perfect eyes and perfect lips. He looks older now, more mature. But it is a good look on him. It suits you perfectly.

“It is.”, you say, letting out a soft side before leaning your back against Jakes chest, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. “But I am so grateful for this. I am so grateful we get to watch the boys’ kids grow up. I am so grateful I get see Nuri so happy and content. And I am so happy I can be with you, Jake.”

“Forever?”, he asks, eyes looking deeply into yours and a soft smile, that is only dedicated to you.

“Forever.”, you answer his question, and you have never been more honest in your whole life.