#and in the now deleted messages between me and the boy i was going to marry

[theemporium]

[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)

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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 

In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.

Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 

cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?

cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 

He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 

hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 

hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…

hockey boy: he’s nosy 

hockey boy: and annoying 

Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.

cherry🍒: my place it is then

cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)

He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.

Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 

However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yes, Jack.”

“You’re not sick or anything?”

“I’m literally fine.” 

“Because we can tell the trainers—”

“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 

“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”

But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.

Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 

Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”

“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 

Jack snorted in response. 

Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 

He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 

But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 

It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.

Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 

However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 

But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.

…

Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” 

Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.

“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.

Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”

“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.

Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 

“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”

Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 

Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 

He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”

“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.

“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 

“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 

“Not sure.” 

“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 

“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”

Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.

He frowned. “What?” 

“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”

His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”

“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”

“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 

“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 

“Fuck off!” 

He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.

His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 

It was fine. 

Everything was fine.

Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 

He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.

“You’re early,” you noted. 

Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 

His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 

But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.

“You still like Coke, right?” 

His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 

He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 

“Your place is really nice—”

“Tell me about hockey.” 

Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.

“What?”

“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 

“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 

“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 

Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 

“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 

He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”

You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”

He blinked. “There is?”

“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 

Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”

“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 

Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 

“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 

“Do you enjoy it?” 

Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”

“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.

“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 

“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 

Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”

“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 

He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 

“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 

And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 

“You watched some videos before I came?”

“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.

He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 

Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 

In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”

“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.

“Oh?”

“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 

“My training?” 

“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 

His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 

“Can I kiss you?” 

He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 

“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 

“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 

“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 

“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.

Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.

You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 

And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 

Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 

“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 

“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 

Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 

“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.

Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 

“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”

“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 

“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.

He swallowed. “Oh.” 

You raised your brows. “This good?” 

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 

“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 

And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 

His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.

And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 

Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 

“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”

His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”

“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 

The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 

“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”

And it was too much. 

The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 

His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 

And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 

“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 

“For what?” 

“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 

You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 

His stomach twisted a little.

“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 

He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 

“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”

His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 

You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”

Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.

“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”

He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 

And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 

And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 

It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 

It made his head spin, in a good way. 

And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 

You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 

But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 

You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 

Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?

.

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱, 𝗶'𝗺 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 | 𝘭𝘩43 ♔

➪ summary: the relationship between luke and his girlfriend is special, but the bond between his girlfriend and his brothers is adorable; or four times quinn and jack helped out their brother's girlfriend when she was in need

➪ warnings: finals (physics to be exact), hate comments, slight mentions to threats, car breaking down, slight mentions to being followed, fights, crying, asshole-ish luke

➪ word count: 3.5k

➪ file type: fic

➪ sunny's notes: welcome back to the blog, apologies for me deleting my account and coming back but anyway. I'll be posting the old fics here and there, i'm thinking about trying to get them all back before i start posting new fics. the taglist will be intact from before, but i'll only use it for the first couple of posts and then i'll probably stop using it until i start posting new fics again. i hope your guys' support will be the same or better as the last blog :)

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⟹ The One with the Finals | Quinn - Winter of 2023

The day before her physics final, y/n was in tears. There were papers not only all over her desk but on the walls and the ground as well. The whiteboard that hung in her apartment was littered with kinematics equations and a bunch of random vocabulary words that probably weren’t necessary for her final. 

More tears sprung in her eyes as she looked at her review guide, “Who the fuck knows this shit?”

Her roommates had already gone home, finishing their finals the day before so she was alone. It was almost 7 and she had been studying for six hours, maybe more. She knew she should stop and take a break, make some dinner, maybe even watch a movie, but she couldn’t, not now, not when her grade was on the line. 

She was so close, oh so close to being done but the last question was too much for her. It sent her brain into overdrive, the wires were crossed, and nothing made sense anymore, not that it ever did anyway. She let out a noise, a cross between a groan and a whine, and threw her notes down and her pencil across the room. 

She took a peak at her phone and noticed the mass amount of messages from her boyfriend, a few from her parents, and a few from Luke’s family. The boy was so worried that he made his parents and Quinn and Jack text her just to see if she would answer, but she didn’t.

Now, no offense to Jack (but offense) and no offense to Luke, but they weren’t always the brightest of the bunch. Which is why she called Quinn, tears still obviously present.

“I’m going to fail.”

“Y/n? Luke’s been calling you for hours.”

“Yes, I know. I was studying for physics, and I’ve concluded that I’m going to fail.”

Quinn sat up from where he was lying on his bed, “No, you’re not.”

She let out a sob, “I am and then I’m going to get kicked out of school and everyone’s going to make fun of me and then Luke won’t want to date me anymore and then you guys will stop talking to me-”

“Hey! Calm down, none of that is going to happen because it’s not possible, y/n/n. What’s your GPA right now?”

“A 4.0.”

Quinn laughed, “Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re fine. I promise you, but if you feel that badly about it, I’ll help you study.”

“Really?”

“No, I’m fucking with you. Of course, I’ll help you. You’re my favorite sibling after all.”

“I’m not even related to you.”

“Yet.”

Y/n sent the PDF of the review guide to Quinn, who now sat at his desk on his computer. The two talked and studied with one another before Quinn realized the lack of color in the girl’s face, “Have you eaten yet?”

Y/n looked at him and then quickly looked down shamefully, “No.”

Quinn looked like he was going to yell at her but in reality, he was just worried, and the tiniest bit frustrated with her for not taking care of herself, not that he would ever tell her that though, “Go make dinner, you can bring me with if you want. I’ll even make my own.”

“But-”

“No, you’ll think better if you eat.” That could’ve been a total lie, but she would’ve listened to him anyway.

She took her phone and computer with her, still talking to Quinn as she made some ramen - the good kind, not the crappy instant one. Quinn smiled, happy with himself for making his brother’s girlfriend - or if he had it his and Jack’s way, his sister -  take care of herself and feel better.

『••✎••』

She had just gotten done with her final and she screamed internally, walking out of the room and heading to her dorm, waiting for her family to pick her up. She called Quinn immediately after she stepped out of the building. 

“Quinn! Quinn! Quinn! Guess what?!”

Quinn had been on his way to practice when he got the phone call, “What?”

“I passed!”

Quinn smiled, “See I told you, you would.”

“Thank you!"

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ The One with the Haters | Jack - Fall of 2023

It never really bothered her, and Luke always said it shouldn’t. Yet, when Luke started his rookie year and gained more attraction, so did she. They were worse than what they were before, they came in mass amounts, the words dug deeper, and everything seemed to escalate. 

This wasn’t something that should’ve burdened Luke, he had enough to deal with it being his rookie season and trying to perform as well as he could, he didn’t need to hear about his fans attacking his girlfriend as well. Luke was, let’s just say, the most oblivious of them all. So she didn’t really have to worry about him finding out about it, anyway.

However, Jack knew about her mood changes. Every time she visited the two in New Jersey, she distanced herself from them, she took notice of who was around them when they went out and strategically sat next to Luke so people wouldn’t make accusations of her favoring Jack over him but not too close to him that it would seem like she’s attached and overbearing him.

He also took notice of the comments on his brother’s Instagram posts or whenever the wags would post y/n at a game. 

‘He’s too good for her.’

‘Why does she even come? It’s obvious he doesn’t want her there, he doesn’t even play well when she’s there.’

‘She’s just using him.’

‘I don’t know what he sees in her.’

‘She’s not that pretty.’

Those barely scratched the surface of the comments. There were more, most about her looks and another good chunk of them just saying how the two didn’t make sense together. But the ones that hurt the worst, were the ones that came up once or twice in every ten posts. The ones that were about her using him, the ones that made threats to her and her family. The ones claiming that they knew everything about her life. The ones that said she was cheating on Luke with Jack or Quinn.

Jack had his fair share of hate comments, many of which he remembered from his rookie season. He knew how it felt to have someone close to him be praised so much and then be torn down for simply having a relationship with them and not being as good. 

The Devils were visiting Detroit near the late end of November and y/n decided to go to the game, hanging out with them the two days that they flew down early to be with her before the game. They were out at a restaurant and y/n was sitting in the very corner of the booth that they got.

Luke sat down next to her as Jack slid into the booth across from them, still bantering with his brother. Luke was oblivious to the distance between him and y/n, shrugging it off as if she was just hot despite the temperature outside. Luke and Jack continued to talk about the game, stopping for the waiter to take their order who just so happened to be a fan of the Devils. Y/n rolled her eyes as she subtly flittered with her boyfriend, giving Jack a look. 

The waiter walked away and Luke got up and left to the bathroom, “So when are you going to tell him? Or are you waiting for him to figure it out by himself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n dug her face into the menu, avoiding eye contact with Jack.

“Uh huh, sure. Then what are these?” Jack showed the girl his phone, comments from Luke’s most recent post showing. 

“Jack.”

“Y/n.”

“There’s not much he can do about it anyways, they’ll keep doing it no matter what. Besides, they’re not wrong.”

“He has a right to know and no, nothing they say is true. You are Luke’s world and he will defend you until he dies. If someone is threatening you, which there is, he will find a way to stop it. And Quinn and I will help too. We want you safe.” Jack reached over the table to pat her shoulder. 

She nodded, “Just talk to him. Okay?”

『••✎••』

Later that night, Luke was in bed with y/n, both of them on their phones. Luke was playing a game and y/n was on Instagram. She hadn’t actively searched out the comments but when she saw a post of her with 200 comments under it, she had to look, and they weren’t all that different from what she was expecting. 

“Luke?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“Have you seen the comments?”

“What comments?”

“These.” She handed Luke her phone and watched as he scrolled through them, and before he could say anything, she took it back and showed him her DM’s. 

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could’ve done something to stop this.” She just shrugged.

“Sweetheart, this is scary. I don't want you to have to endure this by yourself.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine.”

“But you’re not. I know everyone thinks I’m oblivious, and yes, sometimes I am, but I can see you’re hurting and you have been for a while. I might not have known why or how but I was so worried about you, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to stop this.”

Luke placed his hands on her face and she wrapped her hands around his wrists. His thumbs lightly rubbed over her face, just under her eye, as hers rubbed up and down his hands, stopping at his knuckles to rub over them as well. She smiled slightly at him but was still worried about everything that was going on. 

“Hey,” Luke made her look up at him. “Everything is going to work out, no matter how long or how much it’s gonna take. I’m going to get Quinn and Jack to help, I’ll have the team help as well. We’re all going to help to make sure you and your family are safe. I promise.”

She nods, “Okay.”

He kissed her forehead before her lips and pulled back to smile at her. 

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ The One with the Car | Quinn + Jack - Summer of 2023

Despite dating for three years, y/n was never really the biggest fan of letting Luke help her, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anyone helping her, to be honest. That’s why when she was in the middle of nowhere, scared out of her mind and not thinking straight, she hesitated to call her boyfriend. 

It was the summer, she had been visiting the Hughes family at the lake house and she had gone to get some food for dinner for her, Quinn, and Jack. She wasn’t lost per se, when she left she knew how to get back home, she had been there countless times before. Yet, she felt as if she was being followed and that scared her, causing her to go a different route home, one she wasn’t that familiar with, and even then she sort of knew where she was. 

The car was still following her so she decided to start taking random turns here and there and when she did the trick she was taught, take four right turns, they left after the first one. She let out a deep breath and continued to drive, just to see if they would pop up again, but they didn’t and now she was in the middle of nowhere, with an almost empty tank of gas. 

Back at the lake house, Quinn, and Jack sat in the living room. Ellen, Jim, and Luke decided to go out for dinner to a fancy restaurant, and the whole nine yards, the other three weren’t bothered to even move from their seats. In hindsight, should they have just gotten Uber Eats or DoorDash, yes, but y/n wanted to get out of the house, just to a certain extent.

She didn’t want to interrupt her boyfriend’s time with his parents so she called Quinn, voice wavering, “Quinn.”

“Hey, y/n. Where are you? We thought you would be back by now.”

“About that. I’m sort of in the middle of nowhere and there was this car that was following but they stopped but I also don’t know if they just left and are coming back because they knew I was onto them-”

“Hey, calm down. Send me your location, Jack and I are on our way. Keep us on the phone and if you see them come back just start driving.”

“I’m almost out of gas.”

“We’ll hurry, just keep a lookout, okay?”

Five minutes passed and the boys were almost already halfway there, speeding the whole way as much as possible. She looked up and in the rearview mirror, there were headlights, “Guys? Is that you?”

Jack and Quinn looked at each other in confusion, “No?”

“Well, shit.” Y/n turned her car on and immediately pressed on the gas.

The car didn’t follow her, simply turned on the street behind where her car had been, but she didn’t know that, so she kept driving until her car was out of gas, “I’m out of gas.”

“We’re almost there, you should see us, right… about… now.” She looked up and saw them, easily recognizing the car. She got out of the car and practically ran to them. 

Quinn hugged her back when her arms wrapped around him, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anyone follow you?”

She shook her head, “I’m fine, just still a little spooked.”

Jack stood off to the side and only now had y/n just noticed, “Hi Jack.” She looked at him tentatively. Contrary to her belief, Jack loved hugs, especially y/n’s hugs. She always thought differently, so she always hesitated to hug him. 

Yet, when he opened his arms, she ran into them just as she did with his older brother, “Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Always.”

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

⟹ The One with the Fight | Quinn + Jack - Sophomore Year

“I just don’t understand, Luke.”

“Of course, you don’t you never do!”

They had been arguing on and off all day, everything the other person did set them off, it was hours of pointless and petty arguing. Realistically, they both had been in the wrong, but Luke screwed up the most. It was when they both found out that he would be going to Jersey. 

She had scheduled plans with friends earlier that week, but she would’ve dropped everything to hang out with Luke and help him pack. She offered to do that but Luke declined, saying he could handle it and he wanted her to go out and have fun with her friends. Truthfully, they had been spending almost every waking moment together since they knew.

“You were the one that told me to go hang out with them! I offered to help you and stay with you, but you declined!”

“I never said that.”

Y/n gave him a look that said all the different, “You’re such a fucking liar.”

“Oh, I’m the liar?”

“Yes!” 

“If you loved me, you would’ve stayed back, anyways. And you know what? I’m done with this conversation. Don’t wait up.” Luke took his duffle bag and suitcase and left y/n’s dorm. 

She stared at the door as it slammed practically in her face. The silence was deafening in the room, you could hear the barking of dogs and horns blaring from outside. If you listened hard enough you could hear the wind slapping against the window. 

For two minutes she stood there, staring at the door, body still and her hair blowing from the AC. She snapped out of her trance when she felt a lone tear roll down her face. Since then, it was one after another and she ran to grab her phone from her nightstand dialing Jack’s number.

Jack answered confused, “Hello?”

“I think Luke might be on his way to Jersey.”

“But he’s not supposed to leave yet.”

“We got into a fight and he sort of-” She choked on a sob, “stormed out of here with his duffle and suitcase.”

“What do you mean you guys got into a fight? You guys never fight.”

“Yeah well ‘never’ is a fucking stupid word. And this is totally not the point of this phone call, Jack. Can you just make sure he’s okay? I don’t want him getting hurt or anything.”

“Luke’s a big boy and if he decided to come here on a whim then he can handle it. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Tears still were streaming down her face and she picked at her nails as she slid down the wall, landing on the floor. 

“What happened, y/n/n?”

“It was stupid, it was my fault.”

“You’re lying.”

“How would you know?”

“Your voice is more intense when you lie because you try to convince everyone you’re right by sounding more confident.”

“So why do you know that and not Luke?” She bawled to the older boy, placing her head in her hands, the phone dropping from her grasp.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Jack tried to gain her attention but failed, causing him to add Quinn to the call.

“Jack? Y/n? What’s up?”

“Y/n answer us.”

“What’s going on?”

“Y/n! Come on, please answer.”

“I’m sorry, I dropped my phone.”

“Can someone please explain to me what is going on? And where is Luke?”

“Luke fucked up is what’s going on,” Jack said, annoyed.

Y/n now sat against her bed and her phone propped up on the wall, switching to FaceTime, “We got into a fight.”

“You guys never fight.”

“Yes, I’m aware, now can we move on from that fact because it happened and it’s over with.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“He was mad because he’s supposed to be leaving soon and I went out with my friends after I had already offered to stay back and help him pack and everything like that but he said no. So, he’s right, it is my fault. If I loved him, I would’ve stayed.”

There was a simultaneous silence from the boys before a loud, “He said that?!”

“Yeah? Why? Is he right? I knew he was right.”

“No, no, no of course not. He’s not right. He’s a fucking dick for saying that.”

“But I should’ve stayed with him, he’s leaving soon.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.

“Y/n/n, listen to me right now. Nothing you did tonight was your fault. Maybe something that we don’t know that happened you did, but what he said… you didn’t deserve that. He knows how much you love him and if he stooped that low to make you feel bad, then maybe he should take some time to cool off. I’m not saying that he should’ve left the way he did, but maybe some space is good.” Quinn explained to her.

She nodded but tears were still falling, “Do you think he’s going to break up with me? I mean, he’s going to go off and be in the NHL and I’m just going to be me. I’m nothing special.”

Jack and Quinn made eye contact through the phone and Jack went to say something but was interrupted, “You’re everything to me.” 

She snapped her head to the door and saw Luke standing there, his bag falling to the ground. She stood up quickly, wiping her face rid of any signs of her crying, “Luke.”

“How could you say that about yourself?”

Quinn and Jack hung up the phone, not wanting to interrupt their conversation despite them wanting to be there just in case he said something out of line. Luke wrapped his arms around the girl, “You are the most amazing person ever. I’m so sorry if I made you feel any differently.”

Y/n just shrugged, not bothered by that but more so the fight itself. Luke pulled back, saddened slightly by the lack of reciprocation in the affection, “And I am so sorry for what I said. I know you love me and I know I said you could hang out with your friends. I think just deep down I thought you would’ve stayed anyways and I was scared of leaving you.”

Y/n nodded and Luke’s hands went to her cheeks, wiping off the remnants of her mascara, “I understand, Luke. I just wish you would’ve handled it more like an adult than a teenager.”

“And I can’t even begin to explain how horrible I feel about that.”

“Can we just cuddle?”

“Anything you want.”

The two laid in better for a little while as they hadn’t wanted to do anything else. An hour later, y/n spoke, “I forgive you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. Emotions were high and I know that shouldn’t be the way we should handle things but we’re both stressed and you’re leaving soon I just want to forget about it.” Luke nodded, wanting to respect her wishes, “I love you, Lukey.”

“I love you.”

⬂ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗝𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘆 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

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[lfghughes]

Won't Do It Again

authors note: I know I was gone with a while but I came back with a mini series ill be doing! readers beware there's mentions of drinking in this and also toxicity. this is kinda just the start so I know its kinda boring but trust.

Of course you felt dumb but somehow you kept going back every time.The first time you and Jack hooked up you didn’t even blink when he said you two should keep it between yourselves because you agreed, why should other people know your business? He claimed he didn’t want things going around and you could understand why so you kept your mouth shut. But the hot and cold from him drove you insane. Right now it was cold, ice cold actually as you watched him from across the room at a house party just flirting with a girl. “You’re not drinking tonight?” Nico asked and it snapped you from your thoughts. 

“Oh no, I don’t really feel good, I’ll probably head out in a bit.” You shrugged as your eyes flicked back over to Jack. Nicos eyes followed yours, landing on his teammate “Looks like Jack is having a good night.” A chuckle left his lips as your own heart fell into your stomach. “Good for him.” And with that you couldn’t watch anymore so you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to put as much space between you and pretty much everyone but no such luck. 

Home is where you needed to be so that’s where you went. There was no need to tell anyone goodbye especially not Jack since he was busy. The minute you got home you sank down into your bed, willing the tears to come but even then you were so tired of this cycle that you couldn’t get the tears out. The buzzing of your phone caught you off guard and you couldn’t help but let out a frustrated groan when you saw Jacks number pop up.

“Hey where did you go, dork?” Jacks voice filled your ear. “I went home, I was tired.” You simply answered, not wanting to offer up any more information on why you left. “Can I come over?” He asked and you knew you should say no but yet the butterflies in your stomach started fluttering around. “Sure.” 

It didn’t take him long to get there and as soon as he was in your door, he wrapped his arms around you and his lips were on yours. “You know, Nico was telling me how into you he is.” Jack started once he finally had pulled back and your eyebrows furrowed at the conversation. “I think he’d be good for you.” But before you could even say anything else his lips were back on yours and even though you were confused about everything he just said, you were focusing on the kiss. 

When he finally pulled away, he grabbed a hold of your hand and starting leading you to your couch. “Let’s watch a movie before bed?” He asked and you nodded your head as you flopped down onto the couch. You grabbed a few blankets and spread them out between the two of you. “You know that girl from earlier?” Jack asked, raising his brow at you as he turned to look at you. You nodded your head but you could feel that sinking feeling in your stomach again. “Do you think she was into me?”

What in the world was Jack on where he thought that was an okay question to ask. “You’re joking right now, right?” You asked and the confusion on his face let you know that he indeed was not joking. “No? All the boys were saying she seemed into me and I should go for it but I wanted a womans perspective.” He said with a shrug. With those words out of his mouth you stood up. “You need to leave right now.” You told him and his face only got more confused. 

“What why?” He asked as he stood up next to you. “Jack I’m not kidding, leave.” And with those words he knew you weren’t kidding and he left. This night was one of the worst nights yet, and your head was starting to pound at everything that had happened. It wasn’t long until a text showed up on your phone. “What did I do that pissed you off??” But the only thing you could do was click delete on the message.

[cuubism]

I've written something very silly. Dating apps, texting fic, crack, smut. desire messing with dream. onlyfans creator hob. trans dream. Enjoy.

--

U up?

The notification from an unfamiliar app stared up at Dream from his locked phone screen. He frowned, perplexed. Nobody texted him. Certainly not with such vernacular.

Dream opened the notification. It pulled up the messaging page of a dating app, one he himself had certainly not installed—

Desire. He grit his teeth. Unfortunately, they weren’t nearby to receive his ire.

Dream looked again at U up? on the message interface. He clicked on the profile of the man who’d sent it, a “Kyle” who would not have looked out of place shotgunning a beer at a rager. Of course, Desire had not only gone to great lengths to establish him on this insipid app, but had also spent time matching him with the exact opposite of his type, presumably to cause him never-ending grief and annoyance. As usual.

Dream should probably have just deleted the app. Instead he responded, For?

What he received in response, a few minutes later, was a poorly-lit photograph of Kyle’s penis. Dream pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger with a sigh. He should have known.

I have seen better, he replied, and closed out of the app.

He had been back at his writing for ten minutes or so when his phone buzzed again. He checked the notification.

Brad: you could be MY good boy, kitty cat 😽

Dream gagged, but opened the man’s profile out of perilous, morbid curiosity.

Brad, 28, Hedge Fund Manager, “Looking for something casual on the DL”, likes golf and cryptocurrency— oh, dear. Somehow, Dream doubted this Brad truly wanted Dream to become a part of his life. Nor did Dream want to be his ‘kitty cat’.

He was going to have words with Desire.

You strike me as a man who brings choking into the bedroom without knowing what a safe word is, he wrote. Am I accurate?

I can choke you if you want, baby 😜, wrote Brad. Which may as well have been a yes.

Dream did not think that Brad was the person he wanted that from. Not to mention that his utter lack of kink safety knowledge would probably land Dream in hospital, and there were more interesting ways for that to happen than mediocre sex in a finance associate’s penthouse.

I would prefer to keep my brain cells, he wrote, and closed the app.

Over the next few days, Dream fielded many strange, annoying, and obscene messages from people on this app. He certainly had not “swiped right” on anybody himself, so he could only assumed Desire had done so on his behalf and had now left him to suffer the consequences of “matching.” By all rights, he should have just deleted the app off his phone. But Dream rarely communicated with anyone, certainly not strangers, and there was something a little bit entertaining about seeing what kind of drivel was being thrown his way. Was this how people attempted to court over the internet? Or perhaps Desire had merely “matched” him with the dregs of humanity.

By the end of the week, Dream had received seven “dick pics”, four offers to share one or more of his body parts in exchange for cash, and a request to become a seventy-five year-old man’s “sugar baby.” He was uncertain precisely what that entailed, but he was fairly certain he would not like it.

He had also received a text from Desire that read, enjoying yourself? ;) to which he did not respond.

His meager entertainment expended, Dream was on the verge of finally deleting the app when he received a different message:

Hob: Do you think it’s possible to cheat death by force of will, or are you too busy craving its sweet release to consider it?

Dream frowned, perplexed by the specificity of the message. Finally it occurred to him to actually look at the profile Desire had made. He swiped over to said screen, and sighed in aggravation.

Desire had, at least, chosen flattering photos of him. He supposed if the goal was to have Dream sexually harassed over the internet, this would have been a requirement. The photos definitely suggested something other than “serious, committed relationship”, but they weren’t terrible, at least.

As for the text—well, Dream finally understood where some of the more unhinged messages he had received had come from. He read through the given prompts, and Desire’s answers to them:

Dating me is like: You found a stray cat and brought it home and fed it and you were going to take it to the animal shelter but now it won't leave. It’s pretty cute if a bit mangy but it won’t stop biting your hand and mewing pathetically. The sex is pretty good tho.

“Pretty good.” Desire had written all this and couldn’t even manage to make Dream sound like a satisfying hookup. Typical.

He read on:

I’ll fall for you if: You tell me I’m a good boy 😳

Things were falling into place in Dream’s mind now.

Hob’s strange message seemed to arise from the main part of Dream’s profile, where Desire had listed his “religion” as “worshipping l’appel du vide.” An interesting element for this “Hob” to focus on. Dream did not think it was typical for messages on these apps to open with a discussion of death.

He switched back over to the messaging page of the app, and replied: I consider death often. As to your query, it depends: are you thinking of death as an entity one could escape, or a force like gravity? Or perhaps a place one must go?

Hmm, Hob responded, good question. I think it’s like a state. But a state of nothingness. See, if I thought it was a *place*, might be willing to go, see something new and all. But what’s the point of nothingness?

Nothingness is its own satisfaction, wrote Dream. It seemed peaceful, to him. Quiet. The lack of need for satisfaction in the first place.

But you won’t be there, so you won’t get to experience it, said Hob.

Precisely.

Huh. The void really is calling to you. You don’t like experience, then?

Is that innuendo? Dream asked.

Could be. If it is, do I get to be part of the toxic codependent relationship that ends horribly for everyone?

Another reference to Desire’s profile choices. What Dream was apparently “looking for in a relationship.”

That depends on the quality of your experience, he wrote.

I’ve received good reviews, said Hob.

You’ve yet to call me “kitten,” so I suppose I must concur on that front, replied Dream.

You started that one, little stray cat, said Hob.

Technically Desire had started it, but Dream had to grudgingly admit that his profile did invite such comments.

Having a smashing time in your dm’s, then? Hob continued.

I have received several unsolicited pictures of genitalia, wrote Dream.

Oh yeah? said Hob. Anything good?

Random strangers’ genitals did not interest Dream. There was a reason he did not watch porn. Mediocre at best, Dream said.

There was a long pause, and Dream hastily added, Do not send me a picture of your dick as comparison.

My dick is already all over the internet, you don’t need to get it here 😛, said Hob.

Dream blinked several times at his phone screen, as if to clear away a fog before a message that might make more sense.

What, he wrote.

Before Hob could reply, it occurred to Dream that perhaps he should actually look at Hob’s own profile. He had gotten too caught up in the strange conversation to remember to do so.

He opened it and— froze.

Dream had already deduced that Desire had intentionally matched him with whoever they thought Dream would be least interested in. He could see why they had thought the same of Hob, primarily because he was very different from Dream. In the past, Dream had tended to have flings with people who were rather like him, in some respects. “Tortured artists,” Death would say.

This was not Hob. For one, unlike Dream’s pouty and morose profile photo, Hob was actually smiling in the first picture on his page. And what a smile.

He was handsome, too. At least, Dream thought so. Handsome in a homey, comfortable way, the type of handsome that suggested really good hugs, and coffee in the mornings, and someone to come home to. Dream scrolled through more photos, and caught the spark of mischief in his eyes that belied his easy nature. This best matched the way Hob spoke in his messages, he thought.

It was not so much that Hob was his usual type, and more that Desire had unintentionally uncovered a type Dream had not known he had. He swallowed hard. Scrolled back up to read the details of Hob’s bio, in search of answers to the strangeness of Hob’s response.

Ah. His profession was listed as “OnlyFans creator.” That would explain it. He supposed he could track down Hob’s profile on said app. Dream was historically not very interested in porn, however. But he was finding himself interested in Hob.

He moved back to the messaging page, and wrote, before Hob could question why Dream was confused about information that was clearly stated in his profile, Ah. I see. I’m afraid I don’t watch porn.

That a moral stance? Bcuz I get enough of that already, trust me.

Personal taste, said Dream.

Prefer to get it in person, eh? said Hob.

Yes.

You’d do numbers on OnlyFans just fyi, Hob wrote. If u ever wanted more cash. Or does Poetry & Malaise pay better than I thought?

Dream’s “career,” according to Desire.

He supposed Hob's comment was flattering, in a way. Is that your own bias, Hob? Or your considered opinion as a professional?

Both ;), said Hob.

If that is your situation, then why are you on this app, dare I ask? Most people I have encountered seem to just be interested in sex but I doubt you are suffering from a dearth of it.

What, porn stars can’t want to get married? :(

Dream could imagine his pout. It was surprisingly endearing.

THAT is why you are here?

Sure, be judgmental about it, mister “I want to get consumed.” Or was that about vore and I misread it as metaphorical?

Dream spluttered, though Hob was not physically present to see it. Indeed, Desire had written that Dream wanted “someone he could consume and be consumed by in turn,” which was surprisingly accurate considering its intention had been to mess with him.

It is not VORE, he wrote. Then followed it up with, I have frequently been accused of being intense, possessive, and overbearing.

Well then we have that in common, Hob replied. By the way, sex for work is not the same as sex with someone you really care about. Or would you feel emotionally fulfilled after fucking your colleagues?

I don’t have colleagues, said Dream.

Right, right. Poetry and malaise.

And have you achieved much emotionally fulfilling sex from this app?

No :(, said Hob.

You are too handsome for that to be the case, wrote Dream, and realized what he had said a moment after he’d hit send.

He panicked internally until Hob replied, And here I thought I was just annoying you 🥰.

I might be having a crisis over your photos myself, Hob added, but let’s not discuss it or I’ll embarrass myself.

We could discuss it in a different venue, Dream wrote, heart in his throat. I am interested also in hearing your plans to thwart death. Perhaps over drinks?

Thought you’d never ask :)

So they set a time.

--

Drinks turned quickly into tumbling into Hob’s flat turned quickly into Hob pushing Dream up against the door and kissing him senseless turned quickly into falling into Hob’s bed. Dream was feeling quite happy about his decision to go on a date with this weird, death-obsessed OnlyFans creator. He had been right about Hob giving good hugs, he had learned that when Hob had greeted him at the bar. He had also learned that Hob really knew how to use his tongue.

“Fuck, Dream,” Hob said, looking up at him, lips wet. He had his hands wrapped around Dream’s thighs and his face between Dream’s legs, and yes, Dream was feeling very satisfied with his decision, indeed. He might even have to send Desire a gift basket. “You taste so good.”

“Your mouth is ungodly,” said Dream, tipping his head back against the pillow with a groan as Hob continued teasing him with that mouth, swiping his tongue through Dream’s folds and sucking on his clit.

“Converted you to a new religion? You’re done with the void, then?”

Dream twisted his hands in Hob’s hair, holding on tight, thighs trembling, heartbeat racing in his throat. “Perhaps.”

“Is Dream your real name, by the way?” Hob asked, pushing one finger into Dream, and then quickly two, as Dream moaned and clenched down on him. “I kind of thought it was fake.”

“No,” said Dream, though it came out as another moan. “It is real.”

“Fascinating.” And he went back to torturing Dream with his mouth, fucking him deep on his fingers, until Dream was squirming and writhing under him, trying to get away from Hob’s relentlessness even as he wanted to throw himself into its fire. He felt hot, feverish, taut all over, Hob’s hands were so good, and his mouth—

“Hob,” he whined, “please.”

Hob paused, looked up at him, lips and nose wet with Dream’s fluids. Then grinned cheekily. “Yes, kitten?”

And why did something that had sounded so revolting coming from anonymous strangers only make Dream laugh when Hob said it? He laughed, a horrible, choking laugh, and Hob laughed too, incredulously. Dream could not remember ever laughing during sex, it had always been a torrid and serious affair. But Hob was so charming and handsome and Dream wanted to kiss him.

“Come,” he commanded, drawing Hob up towards him by his hair, and Hob went, and Dream brought their lips together. Hob’s mouth was slick and tasted of Dream. It was heady.

Dream wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him closer until their bodies were pressed together, and Hob ground his cock between Dream’s legs, between his folds and against his clit. He didn’t try to actually fuck Dream, though, which Dream figured was Hob’s professional good sense considering they hadn’t discussed birth control or anything in that vein in their haste. He imagined what might have happened if he had instead gone home with Brad of the un-negotiated choking kink, and laughed despite himself.

“What are you laughing at?” asked Hob, lifting his head to look at him. He really was so appealing, with his dark eyes, hair falling long over his forehead, his voice that was much more honey-warm than Dream could have imagined over text.

“I was thinking of the catastrophe that would have resulted had I slept with one of the questionable individuals I’ve encountered on that app, and my good fortune in finding you instead.”

Hob smiled, and kissed him, a proper first date type kiss, sweet and kind. Then he said, dragging his hand through Dream’s hair, tugging on it, “Don’t think about anyone else.” He kissed Dream’s jaw, then down his neck, nipping at his skin.

Dream dug his nails into Hob’s back, into his strong shoulders as Hob ground against him. He wished Hob was fucking him. His cock felt so good even just moving between Dream’s legs, and the weight of his body over Dream’s was so grounding. Next time, maybe.

He shivered as Hob moved faster over him, claimed his mouth with a hard kiss. “Come on me,” Dream urged, pulling Hob in tighter again with his leg wrapped around his waist. He reached between them and got his hand around Hob, and Hob groaned.

“Dream—”

Dream pulled him off in time with Hob’s own thrusts, and soon felt Hob’s hips stuttering, his grip tightening in Dream’s hair. He came over Dream’s hand and stomach, breathing hard against Dream’s throat. But he didn’t pause very long to recover himself, instead slipping three fingers back into Dream, making Dream arch against him with a shout.

“Hob!”

Hob worked him mercilessly until Dream was clenching around him with a gasp, body shaking as his orgasm ramped back up and hit him, fast and hard. Hob grinned against his throat as Dream panted, then gently pulled his fingers free and raised his head to look Dream in the eye as he brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean of Dream’s spend. Fucking. Hell. And this man couldn’t find someone to marry him?

Hob kissed him again, and again it was sweet, and firm, like his hugs. Dream kissed him back, petting Hob’s hair. Pleased with the position he’d found himself in. Pleased with Hob.

“Good?” Hob asked, stroking a hand up and down his side.

“Very,” Dream sighed.

“Good,” said Hob. “For me, too.”

He kissed Dream’s cheek, and then went and got a soft wet cloth to clean them both up, and even brought Dream a glass of water. Truly Dream’s good fortune was unparalleled on this day.

Hob slipped back into bed beside him, and Dream laid on his side, head pillowed on his arm, gazing at him. Tucked an errant strand of Hob’s hair behind his ear. Ran his fingers over the stubble on Hob’s cheek. He really was quite handsome, especially mussed from sex, in the low bedroom light. Perhaps Dream was going to have to find his OnlyFans. Just so he could… take this home with him.

“You really are even prettier in person,” Hob murmured, studying him. “Although I don’t think the rest of your profile was really doing you justice.”

“That is because my sibling initially created it to annoy me,” Dream admitted. “However, I think I am the one who’s come out on top in the end.”

“That does explain some things,” Hob said with a chuckle. He took Dream’s hand and kissed his fingertips, met his eyes again. “I promise I won’t break your heart. If you stay.”

My BFF’s take on why you should date me, Desire’s profile fills had read: With luck you can be the next person to break his heart <3

Once again, it had not been entirely inaccurate. But perhaps it would be this time.

“I think I am inclined to,” he said quietly, and Hob smiled, that warm, endearing smile.

So Dream did stay that night, cuddled up in Hob’s arms. Feeling all warm inside, even when Hob had fallen asleep, and Dream was still awake, lying beside him. He often had a hard time sleeping, but he didn’t mind so much, right now. Hob was pleasant to cuddle up to, even if Dream couldn’t sleep. Hob was pleasant all around, in fact. Dream tended to fall fast and hard and he could already feel it hovering over him like a cresting wave. Fortunately, Hob didn’t seem inclined to be any more casual about him than Dream was feeling about him.

Dream thought he could get used to this.

With Hob’s arm still wrapped around his waist, Dream swiped his phone off the nightstand and opened his text thread with Desire, which still had enjoying yourself? ;) as the last message, as yet not responded to.

Having made Desire wait for several days already, Dream wrote, with a little smile, I think I am going to get married, and turned off his phone.

[slayfics]

Explosive Tendencies a slow burn fan fiction about the readers developing relationship with Katsuki Bakugo.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Katsuki gets his provisional licenses.

Chapter links

You tossed and turned in bed, unable to get comfortable or fall asleep. You turned to your side and gazed at the stuffed bear Katsuki had given you- or more like shoved into your arms.

Your mind raced with regret. You should have spoken up and agreed with Eijiro that you wanted to say good night to Katsuki alone but- you couldn't help but feel nervous and overwhelmed.

Why didn't Katsuki say anything?

You let out an exhausted sigh and grabbed your phone. Unlocking your phone and staring at the text thread between you and Katsuki, you contemplated something to say. You typed out a sentence, decided it sounded stupid, and deleted it.

Then to your surprise as you were trying to think of something else to say, you saw three dots appear on the screen indicating Katsuki was typing as well. You set your phone down and decided to wait for his message before you sent one. 

You felt your eyes get heavy as you patiently waited- and before you knew it you had dozed off to sleep.

As soon as you came back to consciousness you reached for your phone to see if Katsuki ever sent a message but- your phone had no notifications from him.

Could it be that he was also struggling with what to say? Or maybe the three dots you saw were a mistake.

Either way, it was too late now. Katsuki was at his last supplemental class for his provisional licenses by now. You put your phone down disappointingly and got ready for the day.

Later in the common room, your classmates talked about Shoto and Katsuki taking their final class.

"They will pass, won't they?" Kyoka asked.

"Oh yeah- Bakugo may be a jerk, but he's been doing really good lately," Toru said.

"Maybe I'll make a cake while we're all waiting," Rikido suggested.

"Yeah, we could have a little surprise party for them," Momo encouraged.

The rest of your classmates agreed excitedly.

You shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, "I don't know- something tells me Bakugo would hate that," you spoke. While your classmates did have good intentions- you knew it would just be a reminder to Katsuki that he had fallen behind everyone.

"Bakugo is always a grouch no matter what! Besides they both worked hard and I'm sure Todoroki would appreciate it," Toru countered. 

Being outnumbered by your classmate's enthusiasm, you decided to go along with the plan.

When Shoto and Katsuki returned to the dorms, everyone turned off the lights in anticipation of surprising them.  

The two boys walked in confused by the vacant common room.

"Did we have a blackout or something? Katsuki asked.

"Maybe everyone else left the dorms?" Shoto suggested.

Your classmates then turned on the lights and popped some party streamers causing Shoto and Katsuki to jump in surprise.  

You stood timidly in the back of the group as you watched Rikido present the cake to the two boys.

"That thing is massive!" Katsuki barked his face in a scowl from surprise.

You rolled your eyes as multiple of your classmates fawned over Shoto. Then just as you had predicted Katsuki yelled in a rage at Izuku who attempted to praise him.

"Congrats! Now we can do hero work together! It'll be great, Kacchan!" Izuku sang.

"What do you think you're better than me 'cause you got your license first!?" Katsuki yelled.

"No no! That's not what I meant!" Izuku cried out as Katsuki continued to yell.

You made your way to get cake as the squabble continued. Eventually, Eijiro worked his way over to Katsuki and got him to relax. You eyed the situation as you kept to yourself. You knew Katsuki hated big crowds and too much attention- so you decided not to add to it.

Plus, with the awkward way things left off between you- you weren't sure what the right thing to say was.

It didn't take long for Katsuki to make a swift exit as soon as he could sneak away. You noticed him walk out the front door and shut it quickly behind him.

He must be super overwhelmed to go outside in the cold you realized. The cold was something he hated more than parties. Although he probably thought he couldn't sneak his way all the way to his dorm without someone noticing and trying to make him stay.

You took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to go outside and check on him.

You slipped out the door trying not to make a scene and avoid anyone following you.

Katsuki was sitting on the steps outside the door, "What do you want?" he barked before turning around, "Oh- it's you," he said glancing at you slightly and then resting his cheek back in his palm.

"You ok?" You asked.

"Hah!? Of course, I'm ok!" He yelled.

You sighed and sat next to him, "I just know you aren't a fan of parties and a lot of attention. I told them you would hate it," you spoke.

Katsuki let out a huff, "Yeah well- I get that they were trying to be nice. But... I'm just tired," he said.

"That's understandable, I'm sure it was a long day for you. It must be nice to be all done with those supplemental classes though," you said trying to lighten his mood.

Katsuki grunted in agreement his gaze still away from you, "Yeah glad to be done with that bull shit. It did have its moments thought," He spoke.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" You asked.

"Guess I never finished telling you," Katsuki said, a laugh escaping him. You smiled at his mood finally shifting. "During that test where we had to work with kids- the damn brats started calling Todoroki, Five Winnies," he said bursting out laughing.

"Those kids have better nicknames than you," You laughed with him until the short moment of laughter subsided and you both fell into an awkward silence once more.

"Hey um- I'm sorry about yesterday." You finally had the courage to say.

"Hu?" He murmured and looked at you for the first time of the night,

"After the festival when Kirishima tried to leave," You reminded him.

"Yeah, I know what you're talking about. But- what are you sorry about?" He asked, his eyes looking at you curiously.

"I uh- I just should have said something," You responded.

"Yeah? And what should you have said?" He questioned.

You felt yourself freeze. You hadn't expected him to pressure you into clarifying.

"I uh- I don't know-," You began to stammer. No matter how many times you replayed that scene in your head you couldn't bring yourself to tell Katsuki in-person what you would have liked to say.

You would have liked to thank Kirishima for giving you both privacy and then-

"Ugh," Katsuki grunted bringing you out of your thoughts, his face scrunching up back into his usual scowl. "Stop being such a damn coward and tell me how you feel already!" He barked.

Your face flushed at his words- had Katsuki noticed your crush on him this whole time??

"Come on, you think I'm stupid?! I always catch you watching me during training, you- snuck out to come find me when I was kidnapped, and you practically begged to come see me when I was on house arrest- and, at the summer camp... You were going to tell me you thought I was attractive, right? So just- ugh," he grunted in frustration again. "Look- I- I don't hate being around you like I do everyone else ok- and I know you feel whatever this is between us too, right?" 

You nodded shyly completely overwhelmed by his outburst of emotions.

"Good so just- let me kiss you yeah?" He proposed.

Your whole body trembled as your eyes scanned his for any sign that this was a joke. You had imagined scenarios like this playing out between you two so many times that it was hard to believe what was happening now was real.

"You- you do want that right?" he asked again, beginning to get impatient with your lack of response.

You nodded eagerly, unable to form any words.

"Tch- don't be so damn nervous, like I said- I... I like you too," he said, then awkwardly scooted closer to you.

You hadn't seen this expression on Katsuki's face before- was it nervousness? You never once saw him nervous in any sparring or training but- this seemed to be uncharted territory for him.

"Just- don't move ok," he said sternly as his hand shook, placing his finger under your chin and guiding your lips to his.

Katsuki rested his lips on yours, his touch shattered any doubts you had about this being real. The simple gesture transformed what was a friendship into something more meaningful and answered all your questions about how your classmate felt about you.

The blissful moment was over too soon, and your eyes locked on to his as he pulled away- the look on your face full of emotion.

"What?" Katsuki said, his face blushing as he looked away from you.

"Uh- nothing-... that was- that was nice..." you said looking away to hide your own blush.

"Tch- well... you better have enjoyed it because that's all you get," He barked.

"You're kidding right?" You said playfully scooting even closer to him.

"Hey careful brat," he said squirming at your closeness. "Look- I'm... not good at this stuff so... let me go at my own pace, alright?" He requested.

"Ok Bakugo," you agreed.

Katsuki winced, "I just kissed you- there's no need to be so formal with me anymore," He spoke.

"Oh- ok Katsuki," you said blushing once more.

"We should probably go back inside to that dumb party before someone comes looking for us," he said standing up.

You followed his lead standing up but as he was about to reach for the door you called out to him, "Hey Baku-... Katsuki?"

"What?" He asked, turning around.

You reached out and grabbed his hand interlacing your fingers with his.

Katsuki's face was taken over by another blush as he gazed at both your hands. Handholding was a small gesture- but walking back inside to the rest of your classmates like this was a big step. His nose scrunched up as he contemplated the consequences.  

You second-guessed yourself and tried to pull your hand away, "It's ok if that's too much," you said.

"No-," he said tightening his grip on your hand, refusing to let you pull away. "It's fine- I don't give a damn about any of those extras anyway. It doesn't make a difference to me if they... know about us- Come on let's just go- it's cold as fuck out here," he said swinging the door open with his other hand.

As if on some silent cue, the whole inside of the common room went silent as your classmate's heads turned to take in the sight of you and Katsuki holding hands.

"Ohhh~ does this mean it's official now~?" Mina sang, bringing her hands together with a huge grin on her face.

"YES FINALLY!" Eijiro yelled.

"WHAT?!" Denki exclaimed. "No way Kacchan gets a girlfriend before me!"

Your face flushed as you looked away from the prying eyes of your classmates.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!! ALL OF YOU! THE NEXT PERSON TO SAY A WORD GET'S THEIR FACE BLASTED YOU HEAR ME!?!" Katsuki yelled, the pupils disappearing from his eyes with rage.

Although your classmates were bursting at the seams trying to hold in laughter and comments, they respected Katsuki's wishes and said nothing else about your newfound relationship

Over time, with the privacy from your classmates, Katsuki slowly became more affectionate with you in his own way, and you both continued to learn how to navigate your relationship through all the stresses of working towards being pro heroes. Taking it one step at a time.

Thank you to everyone who supported this series! I appreciate all of you and I hope you’ve enjoyed it!

Tags: @anon-mouse223 @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @sikuthealien @queenpiranhadon @melrs21 @poemzcheng @kazuumii @bakunianadecorazon @ur-crusty-uncle @reads-stuff-quietly @chixkadee @perfectsukii @faetoraa @fem-weeb @nagicats @lees-chaotic-brain @maelibo @zanarkandskylines @abadbitchblogs @deluluforcarlos55

[miraclewoozi]

HIGH FIDELITY, PT 2. -c.hs

getting back on the horse is hard, and failing to hit it off with the cute gamer guy you went for a drink with last night has the potential to be your love life’s last straw. but when up and coming rockstar VERNON unexpectedly canters into your life, you find yourself asking one very important question: do you have it in you to saddle up, one more time?

( PART ONE )

pair ; vernon x fem!reader.  content ; strangers to lovers.  up-and-coming musician!vernon x record store owner!reader.   fluff, angst, smut. (MINORS DNI). warnings ; drinking + alcohol is a big theme pretty much throughout. mentions of past relationship breakdowns. reader experiences a lot of stress, anxiety and feelings of doubt, reflected in self sabotage. mentions of sickness (acute). wc ; 12.2k ( ~38k total. ) disclaimer ; this fic was inspired by rob + liam in the series high fidelity and is therefore pretty influenced by the show. if you’ve watched it, you’ll probably see a lot of similarities! i just felt so drawn to vernon in this kind of role that i really wanted to try and put a spin on it. i do not claim that every idea behind this is original. notes ; been working on this one for a while. hope you enjoy it.<3

smut tags : making out. some groping. some 'first time together' shenanigans. oral (m rec) & ball sucking hehe. he has a big cock because i have an agenda to push. implied f rec oral. implied multiple rounds. PLEASE let me know if i’ve forgotten anything.

The clock on your bedside table reads somewhere between 4:00 and 5:00 in the morning when you resign from trying to fall asleep and force yourself to sit upright, fed up of tossing and turning between your now too-creased sheets, brain stuck in a foggy, hellish limbo. Your mind won’t shut down. Your body won’t rest. Birds are starting to chirp outside and you can hear them clear as whistles through the cheap window that doesn’t quite seal shut to your left. Your eyes squint in preparation as you reach for your lamp and flood the room in yellowish light, drawing your knees up to your chest. 

You’ve spent so much time in your own thoughts that you’ve begun to feel systemically unwell. Your stomach twists and aches, your eyes are so dry it hurts to even blink and there’s an ache behind them that started as an annoying throb, but has grown over the hours into a roaring flame. From the hairs on your head all the way down to your toes, you feel like you could burst. 

You wish you had it in you to cry. To let it out. Keeping this pent up is no doubt making you feel a hundred times worse, and you think it would be nice to feel something other than the endless swooping of the spiral you’re well and truly making your way down. Your alarms are going to go off in a few hours. I can’t let anyone see me like this, you think. I can’t work in this state. 

You throw ideas around in your head for a little while, thumbs tweaking over your phone as messages get typed, edited, deleted, and repeat. Part of you thinks maybe you could manage. Just tough it out and put on a brave face, because actually, what right do you have to be hiding away when you’re the one who ran out one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met? But you just know something will go wrong, even if you tell the boys that you need to camp out in the office for the day. When you need peace and quiet, you can never find it behind that creaky old door. When was the last time you got a full admin day without being called through to help with a problem or deal with a drama? And truly, the idea of facing the world right now makes you feel like you could be sick. 

Sick…

Could you—?

You’ve never enjoyed taking sick days, even on occasions where you’ve really needed them, when you’ve woken up feeling like you’re knocking at death’s door. Sometimes, you swear the guilt that it brings ends up making you feel ten times worse than whatever your ailment is doing to you in the first place. But your exhaustion lets impulse take hold and you’re already sending a message into your group chat with the boys before you can talk yourself out of it, biting the inside of your cheek as the little indicator pops up on your screen. Delivered. 

Well. You’re committed now, whether you like it or not. 

Not feeling so hot. I won’t be in today. Take it easy, I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Sorry. 

You pick your comforter up off the bed and wrap it around your shoulders like an extravagant, well-padded cape, trudging your way through the apartment until you’re stood, barefoot and cold, staring into the bright light of your refrigerator. Somehow in the seconds between pulling the handle and now, you’ve managed to forget what is what that you were hoping to find. More out of spite for how the bulbs are currently bleaching your retinas than because you want it, you pull the milk from its home in the cradle of the door and fix yourself a glass to take with you and put it on the coffee table back in your living room.

Without an ounce of grace, you throw yourself onto your couch: your head rests against the arm of the seat like you’re in the apartment of a sketchy therapist, and you’re wrapped up in your duvet as if it’s a sleeping bag, treating yourself to the luxury of a slightly different ceiling pattern to stare up at. And it could be the change of the room that finally manages to drag you under, or it could be the total fatigue of the emotional rollercoaster that has been your last twenty four hours…

But your glass of milk goes completely untouched as you eventually drift off, either way. 

Of course, it’s not for nearly long enough. Barely an hour after finally managing to fall asleep, your phone starts to vibrate harshly against your chest. You tap at the screen blindly, hoping to shut off what you assume is your alarm; when it’s still buzzing a few seconds later, you reluctantly open your eyes, fighting back a sob. It’s not your alarm – it’s an incoming call. Why would it be anything else?

“Hello?” You grumble, putting the phone on speaker and resting it on the couch cushion next to your head. The energy expenditure of holding the device up to your ear feels mammoth.

“Ohh, you sound terrible.” Seungkwan’s voice sounds more taunting than it does concerned, but you pin that down to a symptom of his over-familiarity. “You’re sick?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“I heard there was something going around,” Seungkwan tells you. Great, you think. Good to know. Now go away. “Yeah – one of my cousins… ah, what did she say…”

“Hey, man, I really-...”

“That’s it. She said she was love sick.”

You sigh so hard you think it’s a miracle you don’t pass out.  

“Don’t–”

“You better make sure Vernon gives you plenty of Vitamin D, today,” he harps on. “It’s quite the disease. I heard it can really–”

“Seungkwan!” You snap, finally, grabbing your phone and barking straight into the microphone. He doesn’t need to know that you’re stretching the truth to its absolute limit, but you certainly won’t let him keep believing that you’re calling out just to get laid. “Knock it off, okay? I’ve been awake all night.” 

(You suppose you should be glad that that much really is true.)

He falls silent, and you don’t know if he totally believes you, but a few breaths later, you hear his voice through the speaker again. He’s softer, this time. Quieter.

“I’m sorry,” he starts, hesitating a moment before he goes on. “Try to get some rest, all right? I’ll swing by after work and check in with some food, and… if you need anything, just text me?”

You’re immediately overcome with guilt at the sharp change in his demeanour, and it does nothing to settle the way your insides are writhing inside you. You clear your throat and pull your duvet up to cover your face, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. 

“I will,” you mumble. “I’m sorry – thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. You can hear the front door to his own apartment slam shut and his breaths pick up as he starts to rush down the stairwell of his building. “I’ll see you later.”

“Okay.”

“Hey–” he rushes, before you can hang up the call. “Rest up. Run a bath, drink plenty. Love you.”

You cringe a little, but not enough to stop you from saying it back. Sort of. 

“Yeah. You too.”

Nobody could ever accuse Seungkwan of not being a man of his word. As irritating as he can sometimes be, as determined as he is to get on your every last nerve, you’ve never known him fail to come through on a promise. 

Not long after 6:30pm, you hear a series of knocks at the front door of your apartment. You’ve managed to squeeze in odd shifts of sleep throughout the day and though your head is still in a mess, you feel significantly less irritable than you were this morning. Cleaner, as well. One of your (several) naps took place in the bath, where you laid there and let the hot water draw some of the anxieties clean out of you to float towards the ceiling amongst the lavender-scented steam. 

In the knowledge that Seungkwan’s expectations of you are quite literally zero, you don’t bother to fix the one leg of your sweatpants that’s rolled up before you heave yourself off the couch and go to let him inside. He stands in the doorway with a bag of takeout food in each hand, all wind-flushed cheeks and that brilliant smile, and you feel like your stomach settles almost straight away when you see him.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, toeing off his shoes as he comes inside and lets the door close behind him. He sets the bags down on top of the small table by your front door and cups your face in both of his hands, squeezing your cheeks and frowning down at you. “You look awful.”

“Wow, thanks,” you huff, squirming to get out of his grip. “I was going to say I feel a little better, but…”

“You look exhausted,” Seungkwan clarifies, picking up the bags once more and following you through to your living room as you start to walk away from him. “I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t realise you were actually… this bad…”

“This is doing wonders for my ego,” you grumble. “Keep it coming. Really.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“No, no. By all means, continue to kick a girl while she’s down. Super classy.”

Your best friend flops down onto your couch with an exaggerated huff at your petulance. You curl up in the armchair instead, bringing your knees up beneath you. 

“Do you think it was something you ate?” He asks, refusing to give into your bickering and changing the subject matter instead. 

You shrug your shoulders at him. “I don’t-... I mean, it was more of a head… thing?” 

He sucks his front teeth. “What, like a migraine?”

“Sort of?” 

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’?” He asks. “You’ve had a migraine before. Was it that or not?”

“Well, it’s difficult to-... It wasn’t exactly…”

“Okay.” 

Seungkwan interrupts you as you hesitate again, swinging his legs off the couch and resting his elbows on his thighs, leaning as far towards you as he can while still remaining seated. He wrings his hands, plays with his fingers, lips drawn forward in a stern-looking pout. 

“I thought something was up this morning on the phone, but I didn’t wanna push it because you sounded mad. Now I know something’s wrong with you. What’s going on?”

You swallow hard and cross your arms over your chest, dropping your gaze away from Seungkwan’s very intense one. 

“Nothing,” you lie. 

“Bullshit.”

“Seungkwan!” 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, tipping his head forward and running his hands through his hair. He’s never been a coddler, always one to prefer the tough-love approach: it’s no surprise that he doesn’t appear any softer when he looks back at you. “But we both know that’s crap.”

You can feel your pulse starting to quicken the longer he stares you down. It’s as if he’s burning two great big holes into your head, laser-beams where his pupils ought to be. He’s the master of the hard stare, and you know he won’t move until he hears the truth. 

Maybe I should just tell him. Maybe it’ll help…

“Look, I don’t care how famous he thinks he’s gonna be, if Vernon upset you last night, I’ll kick his ass myself.”

And there are the alarm bells. In hindsight, maybe you should’ve seen this coming; it’s not that far of a reach, and given the few facts that he actually knows, you can’t blame Seungkwan for jumping to this conclusion. It’s quite effective in triggering you to speak up, too. (You think that maybe, this was on purpose. Attack where you’re likely to defend. He knows you like the back of his hand.) In an instant you’re sitting upright with your feet firmly on the floor and you’re shaking your head at him like a dog trying to get itself dry. 

“No, no, no, back it up,” you rush. “It’s nothing like that. He hasn’t done anyth-... God, it’s not him.”

“It better not be,” Seungkwan tells you. His voice still has that dark edge to it, and you’re not sure how exactly to stamp it out. “I’m serious. If he’s done anything-...”

“He hasn’t,” you say more firmly. After a couple slow breaths, you clasp your hands together, swallowing your pride. “The food’s gonna go cold. Go grab a couple glasses and-... whatever else from the kitchen—”

“Only if you tell me what’s happening,” he says, slowly pushing himself up to stand. 

You don’t assent with words, but you don’t have to. You look up at him and nod a couple of times and that’s all he needs. Seungkwan strides off through the doorway, leaving you to shakily exhale away the stress that is once again squeezing at your lungs.

Once the containers are laid out on the table, food is divided up, utensils are handed over and he’s poured you each out a glass of soda, Seungkwan sits back on the couch. He doesn’t prod you, or ask you again – he doesn’t need to. You know what he’s waiting for. Even so, he allows you a few mouthfuls of your dinner first: seeing as this is the first substantial thing you’ve eaten all day, you silently thank him for the generosity.

“All right,” you say, gulping down a few mouthfuls of your drink to re-lubricate your throat. “Okay. Fuck – you’re gonna wanna make yourself comfy for this.”

The only way he moves is to pick up one of the food cartons and settle it on his thigh. Oh, how you wish you were joking. But if he really doesn’t want to heed your warning…

“You know I went on that date the other week?” You ask, biting the inside of your cheek. Seungkwan nods at you, lifting a helping of noodles out of the carton.

“With the hitter and quitter,” he confirms. “I remember.”

“Right,” you say. “Well – okay, wait, no. That’s a bad start. He didn’t do anything either.”

“I mean…”

“Not the time.”

He lifts his free hand up in surrender and gestures for you to continue as he slurps his food into his mouth. You clear your throat, bouncing one leg so rapidly that the decorative candle holder on your mantelpiece starts to rattle. 

“So… it was before the date. I was on my way to the bar, walking down past-... that convenient store. You know the one Chan keeps going into ‘cause he’s got the hots for the person who works there on a Friday night? Yeah, I was walking down that way. Actually running on time for once, and-...” 

You falter, sucking a breath deep into your lungs. It causes your next words to come out more strained than they ought to. 

“I ran into Jaehyun...”

Seungkwan swallows just in time to prevent himself from choking on his mouthful of food, but his eyes still shoot wide and you think his chest convulses a little bit anyway. His is a name you haven’t mentioned in a while, but he clearly hasn’t forgotten who it belongs to.

Because, well… how could he ever forget? 

Your ex-partner. Jaehyun.

The ex-love-of-your-life, Jaehyun.

The man who asked you to marry him after three and a half years of dating only to leave you, heartbroken and alone, six months later because he wanted to travel the world and there was too much that you couldn’t bring yourself to leave behind, Jaehyun. 

How could Seungkwan forget when he had been one of the people who helped drag you through what was not only the worst break-up, but one of the worst times of your entire life? 

Aside from the other week, it’s been… nearly eighteen months since you saw him last. Almost a year since you let yourself talk about him. Even sitting in your own apartment with a box full of your favourite food in your hands, a sense of dread chills you from head to toe just going so far as to say his name. But you’ve started, now, so you might as well finish.

“…right outside that stupid fucking store.”

Your voice cracks when you say it and you hurry to set your dinner down on the floor to free up your shaking hands. You cup them over your mouth, closing your eyes and taking a couple of deep breaths. It helps enough for you to be able to continue, even if you still feel a bit like you’re drowning.

“I thought he…” Seungkwan starts, putting his own food down and slipping off the couch. He comes to sit on the arm of your chair and puts a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “When did-...?”

“Yeah, uh… apparently he moved back a couple weeks ago,” you swallow, leaning into your friend’s embrace. 

Seungkwan looks down at you and you look up at him, all misty-eyed and drained. There’s more. He knows there is, but now he waits for you patiently, giving you all the time in the world to get through this and to let it out and to lean on him. He doesn’t butt in. The quiet feels worse than the talking. 

“He’s with someone now. They, uh— they met in Paris. Just over a year ago.”

Seungkwan finally dares to make a noise and breathes out heavily, so loud that it’s almost a groan. 

“Y/n,” he sighs, tightening his hold around you. “Shit – I’m so sorry,”

You shrug, staring across the room to where your record player sits on top of a low cabinet, lid open, table collecting dust. 

“For months, I sat here feeling… fucking, sorry for myself,” you say, barely above a whisper. You swallow around the lump in your throat and shake your head. “This whole time, refusing to get back on the horse ‘cause I thought maybe-... but he was-…”

The room goes quiet again as you lose the words you want to say and Seungkwan just rubs small circles against your arm. The problem is that you know this doesn’t explain why you called out of work today. It doesn’t explain what happened last night, and you’re not sure where to begin with that either. Especially seeing as the last time your best friends saw you and Vernon, the sparks flying between you were nigh-on visible. 

“I thought I was handling it, you know?” You sigh, leaning harder into Seungkwan’s soft sweatshirt. “Like… yeah — it hurt… but I was okay? I guess. And then Vernon fucking… kissed me last night—“

“He— what?”

“Hang on — no, he… I wanted him to.” You fumble with a thread hanging off the sleeve of your t-shirt as you talk. Why is this all so difficult? At the same time, why does it feel so juvenile to say out loud? “I just… I don’t know…”

Your wall clock tick, tick, ticks away in yet another painful fall of silence. 

“How bad was he?” Seungkwan asks when you struggle to elaborate. 

You assume this is an attempt to shatter the gloomy atmosphere and lighten your mood a tiny bit; it works, you suppose, because despite yourself, you laugh drily. Not without nudging your shoulder into his ribs, though. He deserves it, and you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that it does make you feel a little better.

“He wasn’t,” you groan. “Don’t—… you’re such an ass.” 

He pulls himself away from you at the sound of your laughter and moves to sit on the edge of your coffee table instead, careful not to disrupt any of your food while keeping himself close enough to you that he can hold both of your hands in his and soothe his thumbs over your palms.

“You freaked out on him, didn’t you?” 

He sees straight through you and truthfully, no part of you is surprised. No part of you tries to fight it, or reject his assumption, or even question why that’s the first explanation he leapt to. You just nod, looking to where your best friend’s fingers are currently the only things holding you together. 

“Ran out his apartment like the building was gonna burn down,” you sigh, still laughing but harshly now. He squeezes your hands gently, urging you to look up at him. You do, slowly. “It’s ruined everything.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Seungkwan tries, narrowing his eyes at you when you scoff your obvious disagreement. “No, seriously. Anyone can see the poor guy’s got it bad for you.”

“Even if that’s right, you didn’t see his face,” you say. “God, he isn’t gonna wanna look at me ever again.”

“Have you spoken to him today?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Maybe if you explain what happened–”

“Oh, sure,” you snort. “‘Hey, Vernon. Sorry for running out on you like a lunatic yesterday. I ran into my ex recently and when you kissed me, it reminded me of being with him and I got freaked out and had to dash. Hope you don’t mind.’ God.” 

You try to draw your hands back but Seungkwan just holds onto you tighter. “We’ll workshop it,” he says firmly. “Do you like him, or not?”

“Seungkwan–”

“That wasn’t an option.”

You scowl at him. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes,” you stress finally, groaning through it. “Yes – I do.”

Seungkwan’s face lights up for a second, his eyes sparkling, lips lifting. You’re half expecting him to say ‘I knew it’. Half expecting him to try and be all deep and philosophical and a little bit motherly, as he sometimes does, especially when you’re upset. He’s always been a sucker for a happy ending. But this isn’t a happy ending, you remind yourself, squaring your jaw. It’s past that, already. It isn’t going to happen, you just know it. 

“Stop being so fucking hard on yourself,” he tells you, squeezing your hands one last time before he lets go and moves back over to the couch so he can finish eating before his food goes cold. “If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.”

You’re not sure what’s in the air right now, but this has been one of the busiest weekends that you can remember. Both yesterday and today, almost as soon as the store opened, your first handful of customers came through. Apart from about an hour around lunchtime, you don’t think there have been any periods of time where you’ve not had someone milling around the shelves. It makes a nice change, really, from some of your weekend shifts – hours at a time where the dust starts to settle and hardly anyone disturbs the bell above the front door. But this means you’ve been in full customer-service mode basically all day, and you’re starting to feel exhausted from keeping up the persona.

Still. There’s only an hour or so left — you can push through, and when you get home, there’ll be a nice, hot bubble bath with your name written all over it.

The bell chimes again just as you finish serving a group of teenage girls. You watch them scurry away, excitedly giggling about their new albums and you look towards the door with a smile already plastered on, all ready to greet the new customer until your eyes lock with theirs.

A ‘hey, how’s it going?’ stops somewhere midway up your throat, a pathetic little ‘huh?’ sound escaping you in its place. You’re frozen all of a sudden; you and the man who just came in both stand perfectly still, staring at each other like a pair of bunnies in headlights. It takes you forever to register the strap wrapped around his fist, the purse that hangs just below his grip. My bag, you think to yourself, but the voice that narrates your thoughts is hushed for the first time ever, too. Everything in your head gets sucked away into a little vacuum. The only thing left is him.

“I-… thought you might want this back.” Vernon breaks the quiet first. Your throat runs dry. In a flash, the noise in your brain is as loud as it’s ever been and in amongst all the chaos of thoughts and questions and apologies, you can’t pick out the words you actually want to say. 

He slowly unravels the strap from around his hand and takes a few steps closer to you, inching towards the counter. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he hurries to assure you. Your heart aches for how reserved and nervous he looks. It doesn’t suit him. You hate it. “It’s okay. I’m… really sorry, about the other night. I didn’t mean to—” A deep breath. “I’ll see you around.”

Vernon lays your bag so delicately on the wooden surface that you could be forgiven for thinking he was handling an explosive. Then, he takes one, two, three steps back, before turning and heading to the exit.  

“Wait—” you call out to him, finding your voice at the most critical time, right as his fingers curl around the door handle. “Wait—, please.”

He spins back around to face you as you slip out from behind the desk. His left brow lifts higher than the right but otherwise, he gives nothing away. He doesn’t even say anything as he stands there, pushing his hands deep into his pockets. 

You swallow around the golf ball sized lump taking residence in your throat and clasp your hands together in front of you, wringing and twisting and accidentally popping one of your knuckles in the process. “I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. It wasn’t fair.”

Vernon chews this over in his mind but ultimately just shrugs his shoulders at you. What is there to say? He surely agrees, but he seems so adamant to ensure you don’t feel bad about it happening that he just… says nothing. Again. It’s kind of maddening, even if you fully get why. 

“No, I mean it,” you try again. “It wasn’t you. It’s nothing you did.”

“We really don’t have to do the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing,” Vernon offers, his cardboard-like posture softening. There’s even a little bit of a smile on his face, you think — but it’s not the kind of smile you’ve grown used to seeing on him. It doesn’t reach his eyes; he looks kind of like someone who has read their cards and accepted their fate. “Seriously. It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” you stress, stepping closer to him again. You sigh deeply. There’s something almost relieving about the position you find yourself in. You suppose this really is crunch time; it’s now or never. “Can we… talk? About everything?”

“What? Here?” Vernon asks. 

You glance around the store, at the few people doing a very poor job of pretending to be minding their own business, and frown. He’s right. This isn’t the time, or the place. The problem is, you have a feeling that if you send him away, he may not decide to come back and listen to you. In his defence, why should he? He’s already done more than the decent thing and brought you back that which you abandoned in his apartment; several of your previous conquests would have shoved the bag and its contents either in the trash or the back of a closet somewhere. This is more than you could have hoped for. 

You hold a finger up to him and ask him to stay where he is, and though he looks a little bewildered at the gesture, he ultimately doesn’t move. You rush off out the back to the storeroom where you banished Chan an hour ago, on account of his raging hangover and your low tolerance for his whining about it; you’re genuinely surprised to find him working, and actually alphabetising the records you got in a few days ago like you asked him to.

“Hey. Can you do me a huge favour?” You ask, not announcing your arrival and subsequently scaring Chan out of his skin. He jolts as he hears your voice and claps a hand to his chest, exhaling hard. You don’t entertain his dramatics, though. There’s no time. “I need you to close today.”

“Huh?” He asks, still acting as if he’s trying to catch his breath. “I thought–”

“Please.” You wave him off, knowing he’s about to ask about the task you gave him. “We can look at this together tomorrow. You did great. It’s just an hour – is that okay?”

He chews the inside of his lip, almost looking disappointed. To be fair to him, he did look like he was in a groove when you appeared, but he doesn’t argue with you as he puts down the record in his hand and picks his phone up off the table to his right, silencing the catchy tune that was playing while he organised. 

“Of course it is,” he says, holding his hand out for your keys and starting to walk towards you. “Everything okay?”

“It-...” you start, faltering as you place the store keys in his waiting palm. Your default response was about to be ‘it’s fine’, but you’re trying harder these days to stop pretending, especially around him. So you swallow, nodding your head, flashing him a tight lipped smile. “I’m about to find out.”

“Oh? Is it…?”

A brief pause later, not before cringing at how predictable you’ve apparently become, you say, “yeah.”

Chan claps you on the shoulder as he skirts his way around you, leaning in to give you a sort of side-along hug on his way. You stretch your arm across his waist and pull him closer for a moment, trying to drive home how much you appreciate this. He doesn’t comment on the uncharacteristic display of affection, and you want to find out why, but Vernon isn’t going to wait around for you forever. 

“Go get him, tiger,” Chan whispers.

“I owe you, big time,” you promise. 

He winks at you before he disappears through the door and you follow him briefly, but as he does a round of checking in with your customers and making sure they don’t need any help, you hurry off to grab your jacket from the office.

Vernon is exactly where you left him when you come back out into the storefront, hands unmoved from where he stuffed them into his pockets earlier, rocking back and forth on his toes and looking around from wall to wall. You think perhaps he took your request slightly too literally and the fact that even his feet are in the same position as before you left is reminiscent of a puppy commanded to stay, but if anyone here is at liberty to start poking fun, you think that it certainly isn’t you. Instead of trying your luck, you lock the office door and walk up to him, returning his polite, yet slightly awkward smile.

“You’re not, like, super busy right now or anything, are you?” You ask him. 

His brows crease and his eyes shift side-to-side before they land back at you. He shakes his head.

“Did you maybe wanna… take a walk?” 

Vernon nods this time, still not moving or even pulling his hands out of his jeans. His elbows are locked out and the length of his arms means his shoulders are raised quite some way. He could not be more uncomfortable looking if he tried, but he doesn’t say no and nothing on his face gives away that he wants to reject your proposition, either, so you’re the one to take that tentative first step towards the door. When you do, he follows. 

You left the store at least ninety seconds ago and still, neither of you have said anything yet. Honestly, it’s taking all you’ve got not to just burst and let it all out; it’s building and building and your stomach feels tight, but it’s less of a knot and more like a tightly-coiled spring. His eyes are dipped to the ground, incredibly aware of every step he takes, in what you realise now are a gorgeous pair of platform boots tucked up beneath his baggy jeans. He’s at least an inch and a half taller than the last time you saw him. 

“Your friend,” Vernon starts finally, pausing before he continues.  “Is he always so… you know?”

“What did he say?” You ask, peeking over to him. Trust Chan to start getting —

He hurries to shake his head. “Nothing. He just… kept looking at me. In a weird way, like…”

“Like he knows something you don’t, and he’s not gonna tell you, but he wants you to know that he knows it anyway?” You supply.

“Yeah— exactly like that.”

“Mm. That’s just… Chan.”

“Huh.”

“It’s worse when they’re together,” you say. He breathes out a chuckle and you feel his elbow bump into your upper arm. The distance he put between you when you fell into step outside the store has reduced, you realise now; you’re not sure when, or if it was on purpose. Did he move closer once you started speaking? Was it just so he could hear you better? Or…

Either way, despite being side-by-side, he still feels a hundred miles away from you. This isn’t enough.

“You get used to them, though,” you add, trying to stay on track. “I swear.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Jokes aside, he still won’t look at you for longer than a few seconds, which tugs at something deep in your chest. Discomfort clings to you, and even if it does seem like you’re making some progress, you can still feel unease radiating off him. A cheap laugh at the expense of your friends who aren’t here to defend themselves won’t fix that which you took a wrecking ball to a few nights ago. This needs to be heartfelt and genuine, and more importantly it needs to come out right. 

But when you open your mouth to speak, still searching your brain for the right way to explain why you acted the way you did, there’s nothing. 

How wonderful would it be for the perfect explanation to just tumble from your lips calmly and evenly, and for it to make everything okay? But the reality is that your throat runs dry as petrol fumes make their way through your parted lips. You hold your tongue again just a second later, sighing quietly. 

You’re starting to feel like a lost cause when Vernon breaks the silence for you, again. He slows his steps to a halt when he eventually says, “so.”

“So,” you repeat, freezing mid-stride as you go completely tense. It’s like you’re staring into oblivion’s wide open mouth. “I-… don’t really know where to start. I’m sorry.”

“The beginning’s usually pretty good?” He offers.

You nod. “How much did you want to know?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with telling me.”

If anyone on this Earth deserves a medal for their patience, it’s Vernon. You still haven’t turned to face him yet, your eyes fixated on the traffic signal some fifty yards away from you and you’re pretty sure if someone poked you too hard, you’d shatter into a million tiny pieces. But, as impossible as it seems all the while you try to get your thoughts in a reasonable order, you manage to swallow your nerves. 

It’s crunch time. It’s now or never.

The explanation you give him is messy. Disjointed. But once you start, it becomes difficult to stop: you end up sparing very little detail and circle back on yourself no less than three times. You tell him about how you were engaged and about the breakup, the run-in, your shitty date, gesturing with your hands to emphasise the most important parts. When you start to move again, Vernon makes his steps bigger until he’s walking alongside you. He never interrupts you. He acknowledges every sentence when you pause for breath. Encourages you to keep going when you fall over your words. 

“… and—... I guess I just lost my head. But it wasn’t your fault.” You swallow hard before you continue, “I’m… really sorry.”

He nods slowly, taking his time to digest everything.

“Don’t be,” he says, lightly bumping into your side. It’s a very small reassurance that he’s not going to walk away, but it means much more to you than you’re sure he meant it to. “I get it.”

“I—”

“No, like. I get it.” 

“Yeah?” You ask, only understanding when you catch the very pointed look in his eyes. 

“For sure.”

Of course, it makes sense. Vernon’s young. Attractive. Nice. Talented. He must have been with people before. Hell, you think he surely leaves a trail of broken hearts everywhere he goes. He gets it. 

“We dated for like… five? Years. Her name was Nari,” he tells you. 

A few seconds later, you watch him start to shrug off his jacket on one side and expose one of his toned arms to you. You’re about to tell him he doesn’t need to air his dirty laundry out if he doesn’t want to when he twists at his elbow; you catch sight of a tattoo you remember having seen the night he wore that black singlet on stage. Two lily flowers blooming up the inside of his bicep. 

It’s so pretty. Intricate. The line work is beautiful, the petals shaded with hundreds of little dots. You wanted to ask about it that night, but you never found the right chance, and now—

Lily?

It takes you longer than you’re willing to admit to join the dots, but when the penny finally drops, so does your jaw. Vernon slides back into his sleeve with a big, entertained smile and a little shrug. 

“Mhm.”

“Oh my God?”

“I know.”

It’s not that you’re laughing, per se. This isn’t your baggage to laugh at, no matter how unbothered Vernon seems to be by what he’s just revealed. But you do rub your hand over your face and cover your lips, shaking your head in disbelief as a breath that contains the edges of a bemused chuckle escapes you. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to mind; if anything, it appears to give him a boost to keep talking.

“I got that on our third anniversary,” he goes on to explain. “A couple years later… She called it quits. Turns out there was another guy. I thought about lasering it, but… apparently that hurts worse than getting the tattoo in the first place, so…”

“That’s…”

“It’s whatever,” Vernon says, shaking his head. “They’re my mom’s favourite flowers too. That’s what almost everyone else thinks it’s for.”

You haven’t looked back up at his face since the unveiling, not until now. When your eyes meet again, Vernon tilts his head in the direction you’re walking and continues down the street, spinning now so he’s walking backwards but still facing you. “I just mean... It’s okay. I get it.”

The moment you’ve caught up to him and you’re back by his side, he turns to face front, just in time to avoid a collision with a streetlamp. The lingering awkwardness starts to fade to nothing; you can see it in the way he holds himself, and you can feel it in the way you do, too. Everything relaxes. Your neck, your shoulders, your fists. It all ebbs away. 

“It really wasn’t anything you did,” you clarify once more. 

“So you keep telling me,” Vernon quips, tips of his ears turning pinker by the moment. “It’s okay, I swear. Do you want me to walk you home?”

You accept his offer and lead him down a side-street, picking up a completely unrelated conversation now to purify the air. Before you really know it (what was that everyone always said about time flying?), you come to a stop outside your building. Vernon’s sentence fades away when you stop moving; instead he stills, glancing sideways, and you nod confirmation at him with a lopsided smile. 

“This is me,” you say, reaching into your back pocket for your keys. “So…”

“So,” Vernon echoes, glancing around again. “Can I like, lay my cards out, real quick?”

You nod. 

“I like you.” He shrugs, now toying with the leather bracelet around his wrist. “Like, a lot. But…”

But. You feel like you should have seen this coming. But. But. Of course there’s a— 

“I’ve got some shows coming up out of town and I need to see some family, I’m not gonna be here from tomorrow for like, three weeks...”

Oh. 

Well. On one hand, it’s not what you thought. It’s not a flat-out rejection. It’s not a shut down. On the other? You bite the inside of your cheek and look at your hands, playing with your keys to keep them busy. Under any other lens, three weeks isn’t really a very long time at all. You’re pretty sure that the milk you bought yesterday is going to last longer than that. But three weeks… this early into things? 

That’s longer than you’ve even known him.  

“… and I thought, if you wanted — I could… take you out. When I get back. For real. Maybe.”

Oh.

“Like…?”

“Like… on a date,” he confirms, rubbing the back of his neck. “One where I’m not like… fresh off stage and all gross and shit.”

Relief replaces anxiety on both his face and yours when you let out a quiet laugh. 

“I’d really like that,” you say, twitching fingers suddenly still. “Yeah.”

“I’m not asking you to like, wait around, or anything,” he says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, fumbles with it, and just barely manages to soften the fall with the toe of his boot before it lands screen-up on the concrete. “We’ll just see how it goes. And it gives you some time to… deal with things. Whatever you’ve gotta do.”

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest as he bends low to pick his phone back up, smoothing his thumb over the small scuff on the protective case. It seems remarkably undamaged otherwise. 

“And if you’re still interested, then…”

“Interested?” You ask with a small grin. 

“Aren’t you?” Vernon asks.

“I—...” You think about playing coy, but when he’s been so open with you about where his head’s at, it feels so silly and childish to bother pretending. That playful ‘I might be’ gets swallowed back. Instead – “Yeah. I am.”

“Cool. Then we’ll figure it out. At your pace, okay?” 

“Okay.”

He grabs his earphones out of his other pocket, slides one in, and is about to step back away from you when you do something you don’t really expect yourself to. Something you’ve never done to a man you can barely even say you’re ‘seeing’. You close the space between you and, as if to lock in your words, push forward onto your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you,” you say when you fall back down to your heels. If he wasn’t so dumbstruck, you feel like he’d be about to ask what you were thanking him for; as it stands though, he’s frozen, blushing, and the only reason you can tell he’s still alive is because he can’t stop blinking at you. “For… giving me another chance.”

He still can’t quite find his voice, so Vernon just shakes his head, clearing his throat. (No need, he wants to say.) Alas, his lips just open and close soundlessly.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks,” you supply for him. He takes in a deep, mind-clearing breath and nods his head.

“I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

You see the apples of his cheeks lift as he presses his thumb against his phone screen and restarts whatever song he was listening to when he walked into your store. A brilliant smile consumes his face. It only grows as he turns away from you and walks off down the street. 

For a second, you think it’s all very smooth. Movie-like, even.

Then, he stumbles over a crack in the pavement. When he glances back to pray you didn’t watch it happen, he catches you snickering into your fist. He shakes his head and continues on, leaving you to fumble with your key in the lock before you finally let yourself inside.

You overslept. 

Sort of. You heard your alarm go off straight away but you might have snoozed it, and when you heard it sound for a second time, you turned it off completely, telling yourself that you just needed one more minute. You just wanted to rest your eyes for a few more seconds. There wasn’t any danger of you going back to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, you practically fell off your mattress in a panic when you realised that there had, in fact, been a big fucking danger. 

You were still able to wash up well and make it to work on time, but you had to sacrifice your morning coffee stop after seeing that the queue at the register was going to take too long. For years, you’ve refused to consider yourself to be the kind of person who relies heavily on a caffeine kick first thing in the morning, but today? It’s barely ten thirty and you’re seriously flagging: like you’ve never known what energy is, like you’ll never feel it again. 

(You blame the fact that when you first looked at your phone today before rolling back over, there was no ‘good morning :)’ text to entice you out of bed. But you’re trying really hard not to think about why that is, nor why it was such a deciding factor.)

So, when the bell above your shop door jingles and you’re forced to stand upright (a change your back doesn’t thank you for when it has to readjust from the previous hunched position you had adopted over the countertop), you groan quietly. Nonetheless, your tired eyes crease at the corners as you smile at whoever it is that’s come across the threshold.

After a second, your eyes refocus; when you can finally make out their features, it’s as if someone gives you a shot of adrenaline.

“Oh my God,” You say breathlessly, brushing your hair back and moving to stand up fully unsupported. “I thought you weren’t back until Friday?”

“Change of plans,” Vernon grins, scratching the back of his neck. “We drove through the night. I got home like… an hour ago.”

This is the first time you’ve ever seen him dressed down, and hell, does he look incredible. Gone are the ripped jeans, scuffed boots, the leather jackets and chunky rings. Grey sweatpants and an oversized white hoodie (alternatively: the brightest outfit you’ve witnessed him in thus far) drown him, blurring out his usually so distinct frame. You pin both of these things as the reasons you hardly recognised him when your eyes were refusing to cooperate. Paired with what Seungkwan would call ‘dad-sneakers’ and completed by messy hair and tired, soft eyes?

If you could jump his bones right here, right now… God, you would. 

“But hey, it’s nice to see you, too,” he adds facetiously.

“Quiet down,” you groan, fighting the urge to run over and envelop him in a hug. You’re not sure that he’d mind if you did, but you also don’t quite know if you’re ‘there’, yet. “Obviously it’s good to-...”

His arms, both of which have been stuck behind his back since he arrived, now move around to the front, revealing to you a takeout cup and a little brown box from the coffee shop down the street. 

“Oh, shit. It is so good to see you.”

Vernon laughs, coming closer until he can set them both down on the counter. “If it’s wrong, Seungkwan gave me your order, so.”

You start to wonder how on Earth your employee and your… Vernon managed to have this conversation without you knowing. Does Seungkwan have his number? Did they happen across each other on one of their socials? Did Vernon call into the store while you were out in the bathroom a little while ago and ask? But whatever happened, you quickly stop caring to find out: popping the lid off your cup, the aroma of your favourite coffee immediately fills your senses. It’s so overwhelming that you think you might start to cry.

“Oh my God. You’re the best,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around the cup and taking a long sip, eyes rolling back into your head. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Vernon laughs, rolling up his sleeves before folding his toned forearms over his chest. “I got you a-... okay, they only had those gluten free brownies in, and I’ll be honest, I don’t know if they taste the same as the normal ones but… like, he said you hadn’t eaten today and I know you said you liked brownies before, — if you don’t like those ones, it’s okay! I can go back, it’s–”

He trails off, cheeks turning pink when you tilt your head to one side and feel your brow go soft. He asks, “why… are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so cute,” you say, putting the cup down gently so as not to splash your drink all over the counter. 

“Huh?”

“You really didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Vernon says, shaking his head. 

You almost definitely hear a floorboard creak and quiet shushing sound from just around the corner towards the back room. You don’t call out your eavesdropping friends for trying to listen in on your conversation, though: it barely even crosses your mind. Besides... you can’t take your eyes off Vernon, even if you wanted to. He looks so soft. Like he needs to sleep for a whole twenty four hours, and he must feel like it too, but he came here first. 

“So,” he starts, tapping his right thumb against the inside of his left elbow. (The reason why he came so quickly starts to become evident. He just couldn’t wait to ask.) “You don’t have to commit to anything right now…” The silver of one of his rings glints with every tiny movement. “…but, I was just wondering–”

Smiling at him over the top of your coffee cup, it feels like your heart could burst.

“I was just… wondering… if you’d thought any more about letting me take you out?”

You’ve been texting him almost every day since he left. He’s sent you a hundred and one pictures of statues and cool buildings and nice looking food and the sky, and far more animals than you think you’ve ever actually seen in real life. You’ve spoken to him about your strange customers. What’s going on with your friends. Sent him recommendations for songs that you discovered on obscure albums that you pulled out to play over the speakers. 

One night after one of his shows, he called you. He was a little bit drunk at the time, chilling in his hotel room with a pizza as he informed you that he’d snuck out of an after-party super early but couldn’t get to sleep. With an audible pout, he went on to confess that he was feeling kind of lonely, that he just wanted to hear your voice: one thing led to another and you stayed up talking to him until he passed out at nearly 4 o’clock in the morning.

To put it simply… 

“I’d still really like that,” you say. It’s incredible to you that you can see every one of his features brighten up. 

“Okay,” he breathes, unwinding his arms and pushing his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants now instead. “Okay, cool. I’ll… text you later? We’ll figure something out?”

“All right,” you agree. “Now go rest up, okay?”

He laughs as he swears that he’ll go back home and get some sleep, and with that, Vernon takes his leave. You’re once again alone, but this time you have a drink that could only hope to make you feel as energised as he does, and a treat nowhere near as sweet as him. 

You aren’t complaining, though, and neither are the two men that miraculously reappear the moment the door closes again. 

The smile Vernon leaves on your face doesn’t falter for the rest of your day.

You suppose a big part of the reason you haven’t dated anyone in a while is because you can’t stand the ‘talking stage’. That weird little limbo where you’re never sure if it’s too early to make certain jokes, where you’re checking and second-guessing all your texts, where you can’t figure out if someone’s really into you or if they’re just blowing up your phone to pass the time. The awkward small talk. The ‘getting to know each other’ part. The ‘why haven’t they replied yet — was it something I said?’ anxiety. 

Thankfully, with Vernon, that’s not really something you have to worry about. 

While he was away, you learned that he’s the kind of guy who just spews random facts at you in the middle of his day and then forgets to check his messages for three hours. Sometimes those facts are interesting things about himself. Other times, you’ve known him to shoot you a text just to announce [ just found out tigers have striped skin as well as fur. wild ].

(On one such occasion, Chan caught you giggling at your phone in the middle of a quiet Thursday afternoon, zooming in on a picture of Vernon’s heart shaped birthmark. This put a swift end to checking your messages while you’re at work.)

[ btw, im allergic to peanuts ], he told you one evening. Completely unprompted, just after dinner time. You spilled half of your glass of juice down your front in panic when you put two and two together and scrambled to ask him if he was okay. [ near miss, dw about it! just felt important haha ], he replied, and your response was just a picture of your newly stained t-shirt and a request for him to never do that to you again. 

He can drive — at least, he has his licence — but he doesn’t have a car. He chooses public transport, and he tells you that it’s because he likes not having to worry about fuel prices and it’s ‘healing’ to zone out of reality on the train until he reaches his stop. He tells you that he came up with the melody and two verses of one of his favourite original songs on the bus to his parents house, and one time, he dropped a giant cockroach on a class field trip to the zoo because it tickled when it crawled over his palm and he didn’t like it. 

(You later discovered that this piece of information was triggered by the appearance of a large bug in his shower.)

Last night, as you settled into bed after a whole evening of back and forth, he told you that he has all five of the top scores at the piano game in the arcade downtown, and that he has an approximate 75% success rate on claw machines. When you replied saying you hadn’t been to an arcade in about two years, he was horrified. Enough to send 7 broken heart emojis back to back, as individual messages. [ shakespeare himself couldnt write a tragedy that sad ], he said. 

But, harrowed as he was by your admission, it did give him an idea. 

That idea is exactly how you end up standing side-by-side at a basketball shootout game on Friday night. It’s how he ends up winning one of those cute reversible octopuses — true enough, on a claw machine — which he gives to you immediately. It’s how you watch him hunch over a pinball machine for twenty five minutes before he loses his ball, how you end up tied after four games of air hockey, at which point he calls it quits while citing a ‘cramping hand’.

It’s also how you deliver his ass to him in not one, but two rounds of bowling.

“All right — all right,” Vernon laughs, holding both his hands up in defeat as your final ball takes out all ten pins at the end of the alley. “You made your point. Damn.”

You shrug your shoulders as you walk back in his direction, picking up your glass from the table and sipping your soda through your straw. 

(Though the arcade has an entire menu of cocktails, some of which you’ve never even heard of, the thought of navigating an evening alone with him under the influence of alcohol was totally unappealing after last time. Thankfully, Vernon agreed. You quietly think that being stone cold sober has made tonight even more enjoyable.)

“I told you,” you say when you finally sit down. He puts an arm around your shoulders straight away. Naturally, like it’s instinct. Like it’s a position he’s adopted a few hundred times before. “I’m undefeated.”

“We’ll see,” he says, tapping out a rhythm on the ball of your shoulder. “I still think you just got lucky.”

“So,” Vernon says once your leisurely stroll back lands you outside his place, kicking the toe of his left sneaker into the concrete. “What… are the chances that I get a do-over?”

You blink at him a few times, tilting your head. “What do you mean, a do-over?” 

Does he not think this went well? Gods, it’s probably the best first date you’ve ever had, but what on Earth else could he mean by that? Did you say something earlier, and not realise? Has he not had fun? What does he m–

“I got these new coffee beans,” he says. “While I was away — and I figured something out with the-… the machine? So— ”

Ah. There he is.

You smirk at him, patting the outside of his bicep and rolling your eyes. When you glance down, Vernon is pulling out his key, thumbing over the ridges down the one side. He reaches for the door, happy to take your teasing as confirmation that yes, you’ll come up. Yes, he gets his ‘do-over’...

…but leave it to you to fall for the world’s dorkiest rockstar. 

As he slips the key into his apartment door, there’s a steady pressure against the small of your back: the same one that’s been there ever since he gestured for you to step out of the elevator before him. One of his palms rests over the fabric of your t-shirt and you feel weirdly tingly because of it. He gently guides you inside once the door falls open and doesn’t move away when it’s locked again behind him. 

With an anticipatory shiver, you turn around to face him. You make a point to leave just a matter of inches between your chests. To have your eyes soft, patiently waiting.

Vernon’s hands are - for the first time ever - cold when his fingers hesitantly come up to either side of your face, tilting your head up so that he can see you better, unobstructed by any shadows. You gasp at the contrast between them and your flushed, warm cheeks. He swallows thickly at the sound.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, gaze darting between the space separating your eyes from your lips. “We can slow it down, if you want. I just—...”

Your own hands find home against his chest in response, fingers curling into the muscle beneath them. Not harshly, definitely not so much that it could hurt — just enough that it makes him puff himself up a little bigger. Enough to make him square his shoulders as he drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth. 

“Vernon,” you say quietly, pressing him backwards. Balling his t-shirt into your fists, you send him stumbling over his own feet before his shoulders find the wood of the front door. A quiet grunt escapes him on impact, but he just holds you closer. “Shut up ‘n’ kiss me. Please.”

Clumsiness aside, the moment he obediently ducks his head and presses his smiling mouth to yours, you feel weightless. Even when you tilt forward onto your toes to meet him halfway, it’s as if you’re not even touching the ground anymore: clouds beneath your feet have you floating. Everything about it is so very different from the last time.

It’s so much easier. Not just for you, either – you can feel it from him as well. Your collective baggage has been left out in the hall, barricading the door, shutting out the hesitation and nervousness and leaving you together, wholly alone, to just… be.

Vernon gets increasingly more brave as the seconds tick by. When you separate for air, his head tilts the other way, lips a little parted, hot breaths fanning over your skin as he meets you again, and again, and again. It’s the perfect give and take. Firm one second, waiting for you to chase him the next. The soft sounds he starts to make are amplified as his tongue presses against your bottom lip: he tests the waters, groaning into the heat of your mouth when you so happily invite him into it. He drinks you up for all you’re worth. 

One of your hands uncurls from his chest and moves up to his head instead, threading into his hair at the top of his neck. It feels just as soft as it’s always looked, sliding through your fingers. A gentle pull makes him whine. He draws away from you. His lips are pink and shine with the gloss you touched up in the elevator’s mirror, his lids are heavy, his pupils blown, and looking up at him feels like staring into the sun; you physically can’t keep your eyes open, but it’s so hard to look away. 

You tuck yourself into his neck as a compromise, laying gentle pecks everywhere you can reach. His aftershave leaves a bitter taste on your tongue as you touch the tip to a stretch of skin just beneath the harsh cut of his jawline, but the way he shudders and drops his hold down to your waist makes the sting in the back of your mouth all worth it. You only stop when one of his hands sinks lower still and he squeezes at your ass, making your eyes roll back.

He mistakes your surprise for hesitation, though.

“Is this… okay?” he asks, tipping his head back and pressing his crown into the door. Though he doesn’t withdraw his palm from your backside, he also doesn’t pinch at you again. You press your hips backwards, pushing into his touch to encourage him, with this green light he starts to knead at your cheek over the top of your skirt.

“You have no idea how hard it is to keep my hands to myself around you, do you?” You say, slipping one up the hem of his t-shirt as if to prove your point, splaying your fingers out over his stomach. 

He takes a shallow breath, hovering with it in his lungs, holding back from saying something. You get there before he can.

“I want you,” you say certainly, pulling back from where you’ve been nestled into his shoulder so that you can look him in the eyes again. He releases that breath and his face flushes when his eyes find yours, moving both of his hands back up to your waist, tightly gripping at you as if his life depends on it as he nods. 

“I just… I really don’t wanna mess this up,” he adds quietly. “I—”

When you kiss him again, hoping to further assure that you’re just as into this as he is, he reciprocates, sure. You can tell straight away that there’s a little less bite though — a stiffness to him. He doesn’t relax into you the same way he did a few minutes ago. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask, falling back onto your heels. Is this because of the way things went last time, or are you going too fast for him? Selfishly, you hadn’t considered that could be a barrier. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want, you know that right? It’s okay.”

You make to step away from Vernon, unwinding your arms from around him to give him some space but he refuses to let you go too far. His hold on you is just as firm as ever.

“Trust me, I want to,” he says. “It’s just–...”

You stay silent, waiting for him to finish. He chews at his bottom lip, his blush deepening right in front of your eyes. To try and steady him, you lay one of your palms over each of his biceps, saying, “Whatever it is – it’s all right.”

“I just… haven’t been with anyone since…”

And when you laugh, it’s not at him (at least, not for the reason a fly on the wall might initially assume). You drop your forehead down onto the muscle of his chest, feeling his heart’s erratic rhythm underneath his clothes as you loop one arm back up around his neck.

“I thought you were about to tell me something awful,” you chide him through your giggles, lightly swatting at his shoulder. He starts to loosen up beneath you, his own body beginning to shake with laughter too. Those strong arms pull you flush against him, the gentle shift of his weight from one foot to another rocking you both side-to-side. “Like– like you were secretly married or you realised you didn’t actually like me, or something. Jesus.”

He stays quiet for another few seconds, but even without speaking, you can feel how he shakes his head above you. You look back up at his face and brush his hair out of his eyes, fingers lingering on his brow when you’re done.

“It’s okay,” you tell him for the third time. The last wisps of anxiety start to fade from his eyes, replaced with the same look he’s been wearing since he showed up at your apartment door earlier this evening. “I don’t care — I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”

The kiss that follows lands hard and with it, Vernon succeeds in wiping your brain empty. You can barely remember what you were even giggling about a few seconds later. 

“Don’t want you to go easy,” he insists against your lips. Then, he’s wallowing up your breathy sighs as he licks into your mouth again, pressing your tongue with his own, reminding you that he’s absolutely not incompetent, just rusty. 

When you make it into his bedroom, confessions and various articles of your clothing forgotten out in the hallway, you separate from each other long enough for you to be able to to lay one hand on his bare chest and push him down onto the mattress. He bounces on the foam and pushes up on one elbow, watching as you sink down to your knees and press kisses down his stomach while your hands deftly take care of the button on his jeans. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” You say to him as he lifts his hips up and lets you pull both his jeans and his boxers down in one sharp movement. 

“M’not gonna want you to,” he laughs breathlessly, pushing a hand through his hair as he kicks the remainder of his clothes all the way off and nudges them away to the side. “But yeah. Okay.”

He looks so pretty like this and you can’t help but think he’s even prettier when the first time you curl your fingers around his length, his jaw falls slack and his fingers curl into the bedding underneath him. You drink him in and he watches you do it; your mouth is watering, desperate to feel him press down on your tongue, and you feel a pull towards him that you’ve never felt towards anyone before. 

“God,” you whisper, shuffling on your knees to get a little closer. 

“Okay?” Vernon asks. He tilts his head to the side and you nod up at him.

“Just… had a feeling you’d be…” you trail off, tugging a few times to feel its thickness in your fingers. Why are you mesmerised by it, a little? What the hell has gotten into you? “But it’s actually bigger, and—”

He laughs quietly and falls back onto the bed, crossing an arm over his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans. 

“Yes, sir.”

You lean towards him and gather saliva on your tongue, dragging it from base to tip before closing your lips around the head. He gasps softly and holds onto his next breath, angling his head back further; you give a satisfied hum and slide a little further down. 

The glide is made smoother by the spit your tongue left behind and that which mixes with his pre-cum in your mouth. As you start to bob up and down, some dribbles out past your lips so you start to move your hand, too, smearing the mess all over his cock. When it bumps the back of your throat — and on assessment, you realise there’s daylight between your lips and your fist — you squeeze your eyes closed and whimper softly, holding him in place while you adjust before you can take him deeper. 

“Fuck— just like that,” he gasps out in a shattered groan when you start to move a little more fluidly, no longer too intimidated by your gag reflex preventing him from slipping down your throat. Your hand and your mouth work in tandem to get him riled. Every sound he makes feels like someone injects lust straight into your veins. When you look up at him from between your dewy lashes, you ponder that you’d watch him fall apart from this angle a hundred times a night forever and still not get bored. 

Your jaw starts to ache from the thickness of having him in your mouth and the way he’s restraining himself from fucking his hips up to meet you tells you that he’s too polite to ask you for more. You suck harshly one last time before pulling away with a ‘pop’, using only your hand to pump his length as you shift down to gently suck one of his balls into your mouth. 

The sound he makes is so fucking melodic. You think he’s made a similar one before when he lifts into a falsetto, and you’ve never felt more powerful than you do right now. Knowing you have someone with such a commanding presence eating out of your palm could really do something dangerous to your ego. It’s a bit of a miracle, therefore, that you recognise his desperate tapping at your shoulder, but the second you feel it you settle back from him, looking up at his impossibly tense abs and his blissed-out face.

You catch on quickly and feel your features split into a grin at the realisation. When it takes him a second, you know it’s because he’s still trying to remember the mechanisms it takes to breathe. Bless his heart. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, pushing himself to sit upright and running a hand through his hair. “It-… fuck, that was so…”

“What happened to ‘I don’t want you to go easy’ huh?” you tease, resting your chin on the top of his left thigh, grinning up at him. 

“I’m gonna come if you keep going like that,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief at himself. “And trust me — I want to, but…” He swallows hard. “Not yet.”

You nod slowly up at him, starting to get up off the floor. You stop in your tracks when he says, “I’ve gotta taste you first. Please.”

Maybe it speaks too much to the quality of some of your previous lovers, but his desperation takes you a bit by surprise. You blink at him, ignoring how your thighs burn with the position you’ve frozen in. 

“If— that’s okay?” He adds. “I’ve… been thinking about it? A lot. Especially since-”

“Shut up,” you breathe, finally standing all the way up. He shuffles back further onto the bed and you quickly move to straddle across his hips, one hand coming up to hold his jaw in place when you’re in place. “Of course it’s okay.”

You lean in for an impossibly needy kiss, only breaking away when you physically can’t breathe anymore. Vernon’s eyes flutter open at the same time as yours do and as you reach behind yourself with one hand to unclasp your bra, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.  

(He tells you that you are no fewer than three times before you fall asleep a few hours later.)

thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated. there's approx a scene and a half left for part 3 and then we're all done with this baby! stay tuned for that, coming soon.<3 p.s. no i will not apologise to jaehyun, this is what he gets for making me feel insane. thanks !

[btsficsandsuch]

You Better Figure It Out- Part 2

Yoongi can’t figure out a way to prove to you that he never cheated. When you hear stories about his encounters with other women it starts to make you question your decision.

Part 1 Here

The plane ride back home was difficult. You tried your best to hide your tear stained face but after a few hours you just stopped caring. People stared and whispered, but your mind and your heart were so full of other things that it didn’t even matter to you. Yoongi had called you 16 times by the time your plane took off. You lost count of how many text messages he’d sent. Some of them apologizing, most of them begging. You had been cheated on in the past and Yoongi knew that too which is why you were extra hurt.

You wanted to believe he didn’t cheat on you but how could you? Your last boyfriend managed to hide his infidelity from you for six months and the two of you lived together and even worked for the same business. You and Yoongi spent a significant amount of time apart so it would be super easy for him to hide it from you. You thought of all the times he left for tour and you couldn’t go because of work and you wondered what he did when he was alone after the show or all the times he was locked in his studio all night and told you not to come by because he was busy. Now you were wondering exactly what he meant by “busy”.

When you finally made it back to your apartment the first thing you wanted to do was take a hot shower. Opening the bedroom door you were hit with a wave of disgust when you looked at the bed. The bed that you and Yoongi spent countless nights in cuddling, talking, showing each other love. What if he brought other women home and cheated on you with them in that bed? Suddenly you felt dirty being in that apartment. It didn’t feel like home any more. You grabbed another bag and packed some clean clothes. You were going to go stay with a friend for a while until you could find a new place. Luckily Yoongi wasn’t going to be home for a while so you didn’t have to worry about getting all of your things out just yet.

Over the course of the next few weeks Yoongi still called and texted you every day. Then you started getting texts from the boys asking you what was going on because Yoongi was inconsolable since you left. You knew things were serious when you got a voicemail from Bang PD letting you know that he was starting to get really worried about him. Part of you wanted to call and make sure he was okay at least but you ultimately decided against it. He brought this on himself and it’s not your responsibility to fix it. If things weren’t stressful enough for you, you still hadn’t found somewhere to live and the tour was almost over. Yoongi would be home in a few days and you weren’t sure what you were going to do.

You just arrived home from work when you heard your phone going off again. You went to delete the message assuming it was just Yoongi again but stopped when you saw it was Namjoon asking if the two of you could meet up now that they were home from the tour. You were hesitant but he promised no Yoongi so you gave in and you agreed to meet him the next day.

“Y/N it’s good to see you. How are you?”, Namjoon said while giving you a hug. You smiled, “I’m alright. How was the rest of the tour?” He sighed, “Tiring to say the least but we love it.” There was a long silence before he continued, “So you probably know why I wanted to talk so soon after getting back.” You nodded realizing that they would’ve just got in this morning. He continued, “Yoongi didn’t tell us the full story. He just said he messed up and he doesn’t know how to fix it. All I know is he’s not been the same Yoongi since you left.” You weren’t sure how much you wanted to involve him. At the end of the day this was between you and Yoongi but you thought maybe he might know something. “Namjoon, I want you to be 100% honest with me. Has he ever cheated on me?” You decided to give him more context before he answered, “He accused me of cheating and then admitted that he cheated on me. When I proved that I didn’t cheat he tried to backtrack and tell me that he never cheated. I don’t know if I believe him.”

Namjoon was quiet for a while like he was trying to decide how to answer. Finally he spoke, “Look Y/N I’m not with him 24/7 so I can’t tell you for sure.” You felt your heart sink. He continued, “But I can tell you there was this one time while we were on tour we had met a group of girls. We were all hanging out and drinking. People started getting touchy with each other. This one girl in particular really wanted Yoongi. I mean she was all over him.” The thought of some other girl all over him made you sick. You weren’t sure what the point of this story was and why he was telling you it. He continued almost like he could read your mind, “Yoongi kept pushing her away and telling her he wasn’t interested. She was persistent. Next thing I know her top is flying across the room and she’s straddling him in just her skirt and bra.” You’d had enough, “Joon what is the point of this story?” He chuckled, “Let me finish. He immediately shoved her off of his lap and left the room. Later that night Jimin found him asleep in his bed with his laptop open showing a slideshow of photos of you and he was hugging that tshirt of yours that he brings with him anytime we leave the country. My point is he could’ve easily had that girl if he wanted but he didn’t. Instead he laid in bed staring at pictures of you and clutching your shirt like it was the last thing he had left of you.” You had forgotten all about the blue tshirt you had gotten on a family vacation when you were 17. It was one of your favorites and Yoongi had accidentally packed it with his belongings before going on tour one time. He shyly told you how he had slept with it every night because it felt like you were there with him. Ever since then you let him keep it and it became like a comfort blanket for him when he was away.

Namjoon brought you back to the present as he continued, “Like I said Y/N, I can’t guarantee what Yoongi does when I’m not there but from what I do see I personally don’t think he’d cheat on you. The opportunity has presented itself several times over the years but he never acts on it. Ultimately though it’s up to you to decide if you want to move forward or end the relationship now. But please at least talk to him either way. We are really concerned about his well being right now.”

Even though you were more conflicted now you thanked Namjoon for talking with you and went on your way back home. You tried to clear your head on the walk back. On one hand you really believed that he wouldn’t cheat based on what Namjoon said but like he also said he’s not with him all the time. He was right about talking to him though. You knew that had to be done even if it was just to discuss moving your things out. You sent a quick text to him asking if the two of you could talk back at the apartment. Almost instantly you received a text back letting you know he was already there so you changed direction and made your way over.

You let yourself into the apartment for the first time in weeks. It felt even less like home than it did when you last left. You found Yoongi standing at the kitchen counter making two cups of coffee. You couldn’t believe how terrible he looked. His skin looked of a grayish color. He had dark bags under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in months. It looked like he had lost close to 20lbs since you last saw him. He looked up when he noticed you standing in the room. Slowly he walked over and handed you a cup of coffee, “I made it just like you like it.” You softly smiled and took the mug from him before sitting down. He stood staring for a moment like he was unsure where he should sit. Eventually he settled on the chair next to you.

“How have you been Y/N? Are you taking care of yourself?”, he asked. “I’m doing alright. How have you been?”, you inquired. He was biting his lip. Before he could speak the tears started flowing from his eyes. He started hyperventilating and shaking. Instinctively you reached for his hand, “Yoongi breathe. Just calm down and breathe. When is the last time you ate something or even slept?” He shook his head, “I don’t know. I don’t really care to do either any more.” “Yoongi you have to take care of yourself. Please. I hate seeing you like this.” You got up and checked the cabinets to find something to eat. Thankfully there were some instant noodles you were able to heat up. Setting the bowl in front of him you spoke, “Please eat. It’s the least you can do for me.” You watched as he finally started to eat the noodles. It was almost like you could see some life immediately brought back into his body.

You let him finish his meal and calm down a little before you decided to move forward with the reason you were there. “How do we move forward from this?”, you asked. He stared out of the window, “I don’t know Y/N. There’s no way for me to prove to you that I didn’t cheat. I love you more than life itself but I can’t force you to forgive me. What I did was disgusting and I broke your trust. I understand if you don’t want to continue this relationship any more.”, You sat in silence for a while before finally speaking up, “I agree Yoongi. I can’t trust you any more and I don’t think I can continue this.” He winced at your words before solemnly nodding. “Please take care of yourself Yoongi.”, you whispered before making your way to the front door.

You were finally able to find an apartment you could afford even though Yoongi had offered to let you have the apartment you shared. It didn’t feel right so you declined. You hadn’t heard from Yoongi since you stopped over to get the rest of your things. He still looked miserable but he didn’t say much. He helped you carry down some of your boxes to your car before disappearing to your once shared bedroom.

It had been several weeks since you heard from him when one day you got a text from him saying he had a box of your things at his studio. He said you could stop by any time and pick it up. You told him you’d stop by one day after work and that was the end of the conversation. It’s was a Friday evening and you were able to sneak out of work a little early so you thought it would be the perfect time to go get your stuff from his studio. You made the familiar walk to the building and then made your way past security and up his room.

Standing in front if his door you were about to knock when the door suddenly swung open and a woman came storming out slamming the it behind her. “Seriously, he already moved on?”, you thought feeling your heart break. “Oh are you here to see Yoongi? Well good luck. I swear I could walk in there naked and he wouldn’t even notice.”, she said dripping with sarcasm. You were pretty speechless not really sure what was going on. For some reason this woman thought you wanted to have this conversation so she continued, “Some guys are so blind or maybe just dumb. I’ve been trying to get with him for years. He always shot me down saying he had a girlfriend. I’d say what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He still wouldn’t give in and told me he’d never do that to her. Whoever his girlfriend was must’ve been something special. Then I find out that they recently broke up. So I’m like okay cool. Now is my chance but he’s still rejecting me claiming he’s still in love and trying to get her back.” She eventually walked away still rambling. You were in disbelief at what you just heard. How could someone be so selfish?

You knocked on his door and waited for him to answer. When he did you greeted him with a slight smile, “I just met your friend. She seems nice.” He chuckled and invited you in. “So what’s her deal? It seems like she’s been giving you a hard time for a while.”, you asked. “That’s just Mae. She’s been working here for like three years. Her dads one of the big shots so she gets away with a lot. She’s been flirting with me and making advances on me for years. I think I’m the first person to tell her no in her life so she doesn’t like it.”, he said with a laugh. You began thinking back to the story that Namjoon told you about how Yoongi had rejected the girl while he was on tour and he also kept rejecting this Mae girl. You started wondering if maybe he didn’t ever cheat on you. He’s clearly had plenty of chances but has always turned them down.

You were shaken out of this thoughts when Yoongi spoke, “Your box is by the door. There’s some notebooks and supplies. Your favorite fuzzy socks are in there. I know you’ll want those back. Your favorite tshirt is also in there. I forgot it was still in my luggage.” You looked over and saw your blue vacation shirt that Yoongi always took with him on tour peaking out of the box. You were fidgeting with the sleeve of your blouse wondering if you’ll regret this next action or not, “Yoongi, you really never cheated on me did you?” He looked up at you, “Y/N I swear on my career, on my family, on my life itself. I never cheated on you. When I saw you at that pub and I thought you were getting that guys number I was hurt and scared and angry. I always expected you to leave me one day because I’m not the best at this relationship thing and I thought that day had finally come. I wanted you to feel the hurt that I was feeling. I said the one thing that I knew would hurt you the most and I’ll never forgive myself for it.”

You could feel the tears starting to well up in your eyes. You missed him so much. “Y/N you can say no if you want but can I hug you?” You nodded and he slowly wrapped his arms around you. It had been so long since you felt a relief like that. No one could hold you like him, comfort you like him, or love you like him. “Please give me another chance. I promise that nothing like this will ever happen again. You’ll never doubt my commitment or love for you.”, he whispered to you.

You pulled away to look into his eyes. It felt like years since you’d done that. His eyes were filled with sincerity. “I’m not saying I forgive you and I’m not saying that things will go right back to the way they were because it’s definitely going to take time but I do think that if we work on this we could repair our relationship.”, you said. Yoongi smiled, “I would really like that.” He took your hand in his, “If you like you could stay here for a little bit. I’ll order us some food. It’ll be like a repeat of our first date.” You thought back to that night and chuckled, “Yeah that sounds nice. Just please don’t spill your drink on me out of nervousness this time.” He laughed as he started ordering the food from his phone. You went over to the box of your things on the floor and took out the blue tshirt. You walked to Yoongi’s computer chair and laid the shirt over the back before leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He looked back at the shirt and then up at you before smiling. You took a seat on the couch and continued to watch him as he pondered over what to order. You knew he was the one that broke your heart to begin with but you also knew deep down that he’d be the one that could slowly stitch it back together.

@anon-1112

[buckysgrace]

ok, hear me out : a soft gator fic based on this 🥹

Absolutely 100% I've missed my baby boy. Changed just a smidge but Gator is just a softie, lil sad and love struck <3

It had been a few weeks since he had seen you, growing close to a month now. Work had been busy, and he didn't want to bother you with his own issues. Or get you harmed. But tonight felt different. He missed you, he was lonely.

The stress of everything else just made him want to see you even more. He missed your kind tone, your cheesy jokes and the warmth of your skin against his own.

He took another long drag from his vape, staring at the unread messages as he glanced towards the clock on his car again. It was well past midnight, but you had always told him he could call whenever he needed you. And he needed you now.

The vape obnoxiously hit against the side of the truck as he waited for you to answer, his eyes closed as he reminded himself how dumb this was. You needed to sleep. He was being selfish; he wasn't the only one with shit going on.

"Hey," You spoke up quickly, voice raspy with sleep as he jolted in surprise, "You alright?" You asked, probably shaking the sleep off of yourself.

"I'm good," He winced to himself, forgetting that you probably though something was wrong, "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up." He apologized, wishing he could go ahead and delete the desperate messages he'd sent earlier.

"Gator," You hummed, your voice a little less raspy this time around, "Are you sure everything is okay?" You questioned him as he nodded along, knowing that he couldn't tell you the full truth. Just bits and pieces. But he was alright at this moment.

"Yeah," He answered quickly as he dragged his vape between his fingers, "Just tired is all." He breathed out softly, imagining how nice it would be to be situated between you and your many blankets right now.

"You don't sound tired." You pointed out, the soft creak of the mattress registering in his ears as he supposed you were probably sitting up now.

"I guess I miss you." He mumbled as he glanced out the window, looking up at the stars that seemed to be twinkling in a dull way tonight. He wondered if they looked the same from your apartment.

"You guess?" You teased him, making him realize how backwards his statement probably sounded. He really did miss you, probably more than you realized. He just wasn't good at saying it out loud.

"I missed your voice," He replied, not wanting you to think otherwise, "I just wanted to say goodnight. And that I love you." He told you a little softer, listening to your soft inhale.

"Well, I miss and love you too, handsome," You played along, sounding like you were shifting in your bed, "You could come over when you get off." You suggested, tempting him with the offer.

"It'll be too late," He told you softly as a grin formed on his lips, glad that you still cared for him despite the recent distance, "I didn't mean to wake you up anyways."

"I'm glad you did," You told him, "And I'm off tomorrow, who needs sleep?" You asked him seriously, making him think about the options. He didn't have to work either. And he already had a drawer full of clothes at your place. And a toothbrush. Maybe it would be fine.

"Do you want anything to eat?" He asked as he stared at the clock, knowing the next four hours would drag by until he saw you again. You hummed loudly, balancing your options.

"Just some donuts," You said seriously, making him laugh, "And that's not a cop joke. You'll get all of the fresh, hot ones this early in the mornin'." He'd get you as many damn donuts as you wanted.

"I can do that," He said softly, "I'll see you soon then." He added softly, wishing he was touching your face rather than his phone.

"Be safe," You said sternly, making him nod his head in agreement, "Gator. I really missed you." You replied softer, less teasingly as he sighed in agreement.

"Things will slow down soon enough," He promised, hoping he was right, "Sweet dreams, honey."

[midgardian-witch]

i saw you made a moon knight fic based off an ethel cain song, and i was wondering if you could make one based off her song michelle pfeiffer idk it just screams moon boys to me 😻🫶🏽🫶🏽 i’m so sorry for bothering you with this i just HADDD to ask

have a lovely day and don’t overwork yourself 🫶🏽

You are absolutely not bothering me with this! Thank you so much for your kind message and your request 💙 I really hope you like this drabble and that you're having a lovely day yourself ☺️

Home's Not Home Unless You're There

tags: angst | mentions of a break up | post-break up | reunion | getting back together | mentions of alcohol | hopeful ending | gn!reader

ships: Moon Knight System/Reader

AO3

Marc was the one that started it all.

One morning you woke up and he was gone; bags packed, wardrobe and bookshelves cleaned out. He even took his toothbrush with him. He had left you with only the memories of your time together, nothing else. 

He took one last look at your half-naked, sleeping form and then left. He turned into a ghost, laying low, not moving too far away but always just out of reach. This wasn’t the first time he did something like this after all. 

It was for the best - or so he told himself.

Marc knew that if he would have stuck around longer, he would drag you both down (and with his luck ‘down’ meant 6 feet under). He didn’t deserve you. Everything he touched turned to ash and he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt you too. 

He couldn’t hurt you if he was gone.

So what if he spends endless nights alone, drowning his sorrows in booze (just like his mother; she’d laugh at him, tell him what a pathetic, selfish boy he was - if she was still alive) and thinks about all the different ways he could crawl back to you?

He won’t. He can’t. If he did all of this was for nothing.

In that space between tipsy and blackout drunk he wonders if maybe he is addicted to suffering. If it was just another fucked up part of his brain that needed to feel pain to live, or maybe it was his heart? Why else does he keep running away?

When those thoughts start he just cracks open another bottle. 

-

Steven was the one that suffered the loudest.

When he woke up in the morning, having to deal with another of Marc's hangovers, he felt like crying. 

He missed you. Everything around him reminded him of you and your absence in his life. 

Marc got them a new flat and even here Steven saw you in everything; everything conjuring a memory of you together. They lived here now but it wasn’t their home. It could never be their home if you're not there with them. 

He wants to call you but Marc deleted your number. He wants to go and see you, apologize for what happened and fall back into your arms but everytime he tries he blacks out, loses time again and finds himself back at their new flat. He wants to scream at Marc, beg and reason with him, make him see that this was all a mistake, that they need you in their life but everytime Marc hides in the darkest corners of their headspace. 

He feels more lost than he did when he first found out about Marc and Jake. He feels alone, so utterly alone even when Jake tries to reassure him that they will be alright, that things will get better. 

Without you there he doesn’t believe any of it.

-

Jake was the one to end it.

Jake had been patient. He waited for Marc to see reason but instead he watched his brother hurt himself more and more until all that was left was a heartbroken, sad shell of a man. He watched Steven rage against Marc’s decisions until he couldn’t anymore, until even he was a burned out husk of his former self.

He was their protector and he had been idle for too long.

And he missed you. Even inside the headspace all he could think about was the sound of your voice, of your laugh, the feeling of your skin and lips on his, the way you smell in the morning after a long night of lovemaking.

Did you think about them too? Did you hate them? Did you miss them the same way they missed you?

He was tired of wondering, tired of watching his brothers fall apart when there was a simple solution to their suffering.

So when his brothers were sound asleep Jake took over. With a clear goal in mind he got into his car and made his way to you. He drove like a man possessed until he reached the familiar building. It was late, the sun had already fled the sky hours ago. For a moment he worried he would wake you, or worse, that you would not be there. To his relief there was light in your window.

An old neighbor let him into the building, recognizing his face. He thanked them with a smile before continuing on his path. When he finally reached the door to your flat, his hands were shaking -  all his calm gone just by the thought of seeing you again. 

Before he can overthink his plan he knocks on the door. He can hear your footsteps, and even something so trivial is making his heart ache. But nothing prepared him for the way his heart stops beating for a second when he sees you again as you open the door.

You look like you hadn’t slept in weeks, like you had been crying every day since they had left -  and yet you had never looked more beautiful.

Your eyes widen in shock and disbelief. He takes a step forward, his eyes never leaving yours.

“I am so sorry, mi vida. We are sorry. Can you forgive us?”

He can’t hear your reply, muffled as it is as you all but tackle him with your embrace, your face buried in his shirt. Your fists pound against his chest with no energy behind them. You’re angry, frustrated, but most of all relieved. 

They are back. And they won’t leave again. 

The four of you had a lot to talk about: worries, feelings, fears. There are so many questions unanswered but that was for later. 

All he knows is this: You will get through this; you’ll survive whatever comes together. Because they are finally home now.

[sapphire-writes]

Thin Ice (modern!HOTD series)

pairing: Aegon x Reader & Cregan Stark x Reader

summary: Aegon Targaryen is a hockey-playing, party-loving, self-centered player. You've sworn off guys like that. But fate intervenes and suddenly you're thrown into a partnership with him, a quid pro quo of sorts.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: 18+ series (language, mentions of sex, sex toys), college AU, hockey AU

note: here it is my loves! I can't wait to see what you think 😘

series masterlist

Ch. 1: The Deal next chapter >

You swore to yourself you were done hooking up with athletes. You’re doing pretty well so far, a month into the fall semester, and still painfully celibate. And it wasn’t easy, especially when your toxic ex-friend with benefits kept blowing up your phone. 

During your freshman year at King’s Landing University, you had a fling with Jason Lannister, a lacrosse-playing, business major who had you in tears more times than he ever managed to make you come. It was a very long semester.

The asshole still had the nerve to hit you up every now and then via text.

“Look at this,” you say, shoving your phone in Sara’s face. 

The brunette glances up at you, stopping mid-bite of her panini, eyes widening at the messages. You’re sitting at your usual table for lunch at the north campus dining hall with Sara Snow and Helaena Targaryen, two of your best friends. It’s make your own panini day on Tuesdays, something Sara insists can never be missed. 

“Block him,” she says swallowing, as you flip your phone upside down on the table. 

Helaena nods her head, agreeing with Sara, not looking up from the biology notes she’s scrambling to complete before her class. 

“He didn’t even add a question mark,” you continue, “I’m not even worth proper punctuation.”

Sara snickers at that, taking a sip from her drink as you lean forward, head in your hands. Helaena and Sara lock eyes as you do so, sharing a knowing look between them. 

“He’s so annoying,” you groan, rubbing your temples.

“Who is?” Baela asks as she arrives, plopping into the seat to your right.

“Jay Lannister,” Sara tells her, and Baela glares at you. 

“Do not fuck him,” Baela warns fire in her violet eyes, pointing her finger at you to emphasize her words. 

Your mouth drops open in shock. She’s always calling you out, Baela can read you like a book.

“I’m not going to!” you tell her, but Baela shakes her head. 

“You are a horny bitch,” Baela says, still pointing, “get a vibrator, get a dildo please-”

“Baela, oh my god we’re in public,” you tell her, moving to cover her mouth.

She swats your hand away.

“Do you think I care?” she says, smiling.

“You’re the worst and I hate you,” you tell her, “and I love you, please keep reality-checking me.”

“That’s a lot of feelings,” Sara comments.

“What do I do about Jason, seriously?” you ask once more.

“Block him!” is the unanimous response. 

You sigh, but open your phone, deleting the text and blocking his contact. You hold the phone out to your friends, showing your dirty work. 

“There? Happy?” you tell them.

“I am,” Baela says, and Sara and Helaena nod in agreement. 

“You just need someone new to get under,” Sara comments, “and it’s the best time of year to do so.”

You blink at your best friend.

“I don’t follow.”

Sara sighs, as though you should know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Cuffing season?” she says, earning a blank stare.

Her eyes glance behind you, a smirk coming on her lips.

“And more importantly,” she says, head tilting to the side, tongue between her teeth, “hockey season.”

You turn in your seat, watching as the boys' hockey team enters the dining hall. Clearly, they’ve come from practice, all half-dressed, all freshly showered messes of men with shaggy hair framing their faces. They all sit together, like a pack of wolves, at the same table. Team bonding at its finest. 

“Gods do I love a hockey flow,” Sara groans, biting her lip. 

From October to April, the King’s Landing Knights own the ice. They own the entire college campus if you’re being completely honest. Most of the team lives together, throwing exclusive parties throughout the season at the so-called hockey house. 

Sara hums in appreciation, watching as Jace Velaryon brushes some damp hair from his face, t-shirt riding up to expose his midriff. You can’t see her face, but you know Sara looks like she’s ready to sink her teeth into him. You know Jace from class, he’s a nice guy. Sara would be the death of him. 

You turn back toward your friends. 

“Is this why we came to north campus?” you ask and Sara shrugs.

“It’s an added bonus to panini day,” she tells you, earning a laugh from Helaena.

“I told you, I’m done with college athletes,” you tell them, “they’re all the same. No offense, Hel.”

You nod to Helaena who simply shrugs. Her brother Aegon plays hockey after all.

“No, you should speak your truth,” Helaena encourages. 

Sara opens her mouth in shock, eyebrows knitting together as she brings a hand to her throat clutching imaginary pearls. 

“Don’t talk about my Jacaerys that way!”

You laugh, nearly snorting your drink out through your nose.

“Your Jacaerys?” you ask through a laugh.

Though you suppose Jace should be exempt from the athlete slander. 

“Well not mine yet, but soon,” she tells you, causing Helaena to raise an eyebrow.

“You’re going to bang my cousin?” Hel asks and Sara shrugs.

“It’s not my fault your entire family tree goes here,” Sara argues, causing Helaena to laugh.

“They've got a game this week. Come with me!” Sara begs, taking your hand in hers, “We’ll score invites to the afterparty at the hockey house!”

You tilt your head at Sara giving her an incredulous look, before turning to Baela and Helaena.

“It’s like she’s tuning me out on purpose,” you tell them, eliciting laughter.

“I am,” Sara agrees, “you need to get laid. Hard. Bed and bred, if you will.”

You choke on your drink again. A group of your peers at a nearby table glance in your direction and you’re sure they’ve heard Sara. 

“Bred!?”

“Chill, you’re on birth control!”

“Not everyone has a breeding kink, Sara!”

“Don’t you kink shame me in this sacred dining hall-”

As soon as the words leave Sara’s lips, Rhaena arrives at the table, backpack slung over her shoulders, eyebrows knitting together.

“What did I just walk into?” she asks.

You turn in your seat, grabbing her hand. 

“Save yourself,” you tell her dramatically, “it’s too late for us but there’s still hope for you.”

“Why are we talking about kink shaming at lunch?” Rhaena asks, sitting down. 

Sara leans forward as though sharing a secret. 

“Because I should be the one shaming our dear nerdy love here for not exploring her own,” Sara informs her, “Y/N doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”  

“I don’t need to get laid,” you inform them, pointing at Baela, “as Bae said, I am simply going to use my vibrator more often.”

“You need a human dick,” Sara scolds, “or else you’ll be fantasizing about Jason the whole time you buzz buzz.”

Your friends know you too well. 

“I can’t even fantasize?” you ask pouting.

“I literally can’t with you,” Baela says, rolling her eyes, “Jason is a douche.”

“He once made you throw up from crying so hard,” Sara scolds, trying to bring you back to reality.

“He made you pay for takeout and didn’t order you any,” Helaena adds.

“He told you his-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it!” you tell them.

You know they’re right. But Jason is the friends-with-benefits situation you feel like you can’t let go of. Even though he was such an asshole to you. 

“But if I’m getting a guy, I want someone sweet, someone nice, and loyal,” you tell your friends, setting some ground rules. 

“You’re describing a dog,” Baela tells you, but Sara nods in agreement with you.

She bites her lip in encouragement. The conversation is going in her favor. 

“Someone who can dick you down, degrade you a little, explore some hidden parts of your sexual psyche,” she adds, wiggling her fingers. 

“Someone-”

“Someone like him,” Rhaena says, nodding back toward the hockey players. 

You all turn, watching as someone joins the team. Your eyes widen watching him strut over to where the rest of his teammates sit. He’s big, totally jacked, with shaggy brown hair that matches the color of his closely shaved beard, despite a small patch that appears more auburn than brown. 

His eyes are warm, the color of melted chocolate. He grins wolfishly taking his seat. Even though he’s wearing sweats you can tell his thighs are massive, matching the bulging biceps on display as he stretches. You let your eyes wander to another bulge you’re interested in, thoughts turning to mush in your head.

“Yeah,” you say, watching as he sits with the rest of the team.

“You know why his beard is like that, right?” Sara asks, eyes sparkling.

“Huh?”

“From eating too much pussy.”

“Sara!”

“What?” 

“That’s Cregan Stark,” Baela answers the unspoken question in the room.

Sara claps her hands excitedly.

“I know him, I saw his name on the online roster,” Sara says, “he’s 6’3, plays goalie, loves dogs-”

“You’ve been studying the hockey roster?” Rhaena asks, laughing.

Sara nods enthusiastically. 

“He’s a political science major,” Baela adds, “Cregan’s nice, I’ve had a couple of classes with him. Cool dude. Used to date Aly but I heard they broke up.”

“Which one?” you ask for clarification.

“Aly with a Y, not Ali with an I,” Baela adds, making the clarification between Alysanne Blackwood and Aliandra Martell. 

“This is it,” Sara tells you, her face serious, “he’s the one.”

You look at Cregan again and watch him laugh as Jace says something. You find yourself smiling watching them talk, watching Cregan’s smile light up his whole face.

“And look! They’re besties too, it's perfect,” Sara says, gasping and making a pouty face. 

“When is the game?” you ask, and Sara cheers. 

“I’ll find out the details,” she says, smiling. 

It’s a Tuesday, and you only have one afternoon class, thank the gods. Philosophy. Not the worst, not one of your all-time favorites. Luckily, being one of Helaena’s best friends meant access to her brother’s study guides. Aemond was seriously a philosophical genius. 

You have no friends in this elective, so you sit toward the front and try not to doze off as your professor drones on about Kant and Decarte. Your phone buzzes on your desk and you glance at the text that appears.

“I have your papers from last week,” your professor says, holding a stack of papers in the air, “some of you impressed me,” he says beginning to hand them out, “others may need to stop by the academic resource center.”

Professor Orwylle stops in front of you placing your paper face down before smiling.

“Well done,” he murmurs, continuing around the room.

You turn the paper over revealing your perfect score. A shiver of pride rolls through you. Academic validation always feels so good.

“Fuck,” a deep voice says, causing you to turn. 

Aegon Targaryen sits a few rows behind you, looking very displeased with the grade on his paper. You didn’t realize Aegon was in this class, though it's rather large to be fair, not your fault for not noticing him.

You have only spoken to Aegon a handful of times. Being friends with his sister and acquaintances with his brother, you’d bumped into him once or twice. He’s the eldest of his siblings, though they have an older half-sister they don’t really talk to. 

Aegon is slumped in his seat, silver hair pushed off of his face. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, dressed in a clean white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His eyes have dark circles underneath them, and two earrings dangle from his left earlobe. 

He’s heartbreakingly handsome, truly the definition of a pretty boy with those pouty lips, dead violet eyes, and cherubic face. But he’s not your type. He’s a heartbreaker too, so you’ve heard, with a solid rotation of gorgeous girls on his arm.

Aegon Targaryen is a player. 

Aegon Targaryen is a party boy. 

Aegon Targaryen is an asshole. And you’ve sworn off guys like that. 

“What’s good bro?” you hear Arryx Cargyll ask him as you turn back to face the front.

“This class is a fucking nightmare,” Aegon groans.

“I did alright,” Arryx tells him, smiling.

“Fuck you,” Aegon tells his friend, “why did I choose this elective.”

“Can’t your grandfather just donate more money? Get you out of it?” Arryx asks him, shoving his papers into his backpack.

“Yeah that’s not going to happen,” Aegon says shaking his head. 

While Aemond and Helaena had no trouble getting into university, Aegon’s transcripts weren’t the best. He had a rough time during his teen years, in and out of programs. The only consistency was hockey, truly the only reason Aegon attended school at all. Even now. His grandfather spent a fortune donating to the school, funding the restoration of the library to have Aegon accepted. 

“Don’t forget, the midterm exam is only 2 weeks away, if you haven’t started studying, you’re already behind,” your professor tells you, dismissing the class. 

You gather your things, eager to leave the classroom. You text Sara as you leave the room, as Aegon remains seated. 

“Mr. Targaryen,” Professor Orwylle says, beckoning him forward.

Aegon stands and makes his way toward the desk.

“I assume your wish is not to fail my class,” he asks as Aegon taps his foot nervously.

“Coach has already threatened to bench me,” Aegon tells him, “I need a good grade on this midterm or it’s fucking over for me-shit sorry- just over.”

Professor Orwyelle smiles tightly at him, a pitying look in his eye. Aegon’s had a lot of stress from home, he knows how hard this semester has been on him. 

“Tell you what,” Orwylle says, “I suggest you reach out to one of your classmates, see if anyone can help you study, maybe do some tutoring. We can meet during my office hours, but I think you’ll need some additional support.”

Aegon nods, running a hand through his platinum hair. 

“My brother took this class,” Aegon tells Orwyelle, who smiles remembering him, “he’ll have to help me.”

“I’m not helping you,” Aemond says, his voice soft, but firm in the library.

Aegon groans, earning several glares from nearby students trying to study. He drops into the seat across from Aemond.

“You’re a twat,” he whispers to his younger brother, “Aem, please, don’t make me beg.”

Aemond closes the book he’s reading, a massive historical textbook, before rubbing the scarred tissue above his eyebrow. Aegon watches him wince, unsure if Aemond’s eye is paining him or simply Aegon’s presence. The injury happened years ago that caused Aemond to lose his eye, their cousin is still in juvenile detention due to the incident. 

“I can’t help you,” he tells Aegon, “I gave away all my study materials already.”

Aegon’s eyebrows furrow.

“To who?”

“One of Helaena’s friends.”

“Baela?”

“No.”

“Rhaena?”

“Nope.”

Helaena has so many friends they’re all blurring together. For an introverted STEM student, she’s quite popular. 

“Who then?”

Aemond sighs at Aegon’s pestering, rubbing his eyes. 

“Y/N,” he tells Aegon.

Aegon pauses for a moment, frowning. All the faces that Helaena surrounds herself with flash in his mind but he struggles to match a face to the name. 

“Which one is that?”

Aemond glares at him.

“Aegon-”

“What? Helaena has a lot of friends,” Aegon argues.

“She came on the ski trip last year,” Aemond reminds him.

Oh.

He did remember you. The annual Targaryen family ski trip, Hel brought you along as her plus-one. Aegon remembered you in a skimpy little bathing suit at the ski lodge spending most of the day cooped up in the hot tub reading a book than actually skiing. Helaena had nearly plucked Aegon’s eyes from his skull. Cruel of her really, to bring along a hot friend and then demand Aegon leave her be. 

“I know her,” Aegon says, “I didn’t realize she’s in my class.” 

“You’re very unobservant,” Aemond comments, beginning to pack his things, “don’t bother her, she’s a nice girl.”

Aegon frowns, motioning to himself.

“And I’m not a nice guy?”

“Aegon.”

“I just need help with studying,” Aegon promises, “that’s all. Seriously, I cannot get benched this season. I can’t ask for another bailout.”

Aemond watches him closely.

“Helaena will kill you if you mess with one of her friends,” Aemond warns him.

“I know,” Aegon agrees, “it’s just for studying, I swear.”

He motions across his chest, crossing his heart. Aemond stares and raises an eyebrow at him. Nothing with Aegon is ever that simple. 

“Hel is at the registrar’s office,” Aemond tells him, “if you want to ask her for Y/N’s number.”

Aegon clasps his hands together in appreciation.

“You’re a good brother,” he tells Aemond, standing.

“Mhmm,” Aemond says, going back to his work.

Aegon hurries across campus, luckily the registrar's office isn’t too far. He bumps into his sister as she’s leaving, frowning at her new schedule.

She looks up, noticing Aegon. 

“I can’t switch to Medieval Archeology,” Helaena complains to her brother, “there’s a waitlist. Now I’m stuck in the History of Valyria. As if Dad didn’t quiz us incessantly as kids on our own culture.” 

“I need a favor,” Aegon says following as Helaena walks down the hallway.

“Don’t you always?” she grumbles, taking out her phone. 

“I need your friend Y/N’s number,” he says and Helaena freezes. 

“Stupid question Egg,” she tells him, quirking an eyebrow, “No, I’m not giving you her number.”

“Please, I just-”

“Aegon,” Helaena says sharply, “Cassandra Baratheon doesn’t even speak to me anymore.”

Aegon winces dramatically.

“That was years ago,” he argues as Helaena refers to her high school best friend. 

“My friends are off limits,” she tells him, “capiche?”

“I just need some study-”

“CAPICHE?” Helaena says, louder this time, with more authority in her normally soft voice.

“ALRIGHT!” Aegon says sighing, “I get it, seriously. I just need a tutor. That’s it.”

Helaena narrows her eyes. 

“Fine. But I’m not giving you her number. You’re not getting easy access,” she says getting out her phone, “I’ll text her.”

Aegon sighs.

“Thank you,” he says and Helaena hums in response, sounding an awful lot like Aemond.

She says nothing as she texts and Aegon tries to peek over her shoulder causing her to glare at him. He reaches to turn her phone and she slaps his hand away. 

“She’s on the quad,” Hel tells him.

“Perfect, you’re a lifesaver Hel,” he says before leaving.

You sigh dramatically as Helaena leaves you on read. You tilt your head back looking up toward the sky enjoying the feeling of the cool fall air on your face. The sun is still warm, it's early October and summer is just starting to truly slip away. You’re still basking in the sun when Aegon Targaryen sits down in front of you. 

“What do you want, Aegon?” you ask, already annoyed by his presence. 

He leans forward, smiling, cradling his chin in his palms. He bats his lashes at you, looking ever so innocent. You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“The pleasure of your company,” he teases.

“Mhmm,” you answer, looking at him.

“I need a tutor,” he tells you, “I’m failing philosophy, and if I fail this semester I’ll be benched for the rest of the season”

Of course, it all comes back to hockey for Aegon.

“Why don’t you ask Aemond to tutor you?”

“He said no,” Aegon tells you, “I figured you’d be more open to my begging.”

Your cheeks turn red. 

“Well you thought wrong,” you tell him, “I don’t have time for tutoring this semester.”

“C’mon, I know you tutored last semester,” he tells you, pouting, “And midterms are coming up! What’s more important than sharing your knowledge with those less fortunate?”

Getting dicked down by Cregan Stark, you think to yourself but bite your tongue.

Aegon’s brows knit together, noticing the blush on your cheeks, the pause in your train of thought. 

“There has to be something I can do,” he says, “something I can help you with, tell me.”

“There’s nothing,” you insist, shaking your head.

“Come on, don’t be shy,” Aegon says again, “Tell me, what’s a guy got to do to earn your help?”

Sara would kill me if I waste this opportunity.

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, “I want invites to the party at the hockey house on Friday. Guaranteed entrance.”

Aegon raises a brow.

“Tutor girl has a thing for hockey guys now, huh?”

The blush on your cheeks darkens. Aegon smirks, giving you a once-over.

“You know Jace, why don’t you ask him to hook you up?”

“We’re not close.”

Aegon’s eyes narrow.

“Who do you have your eye on?” he asks, curiously.

“No one,” you lie to him, and he sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“Can’t help you if you’re not honest with me, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you insist, “and I just want the invite.”

“C’mon give me a hint,” Aegon says, relentlessly, “What’s your type? What position, forward? Center? Left-wing? Goalie?”

Your treacherous body gives you away, breath-catching as he says the word and your lower lip gets caught between your teeth. Aegon grins triumphantly. 

“Goooalie,” he says, elongating the word.

He releases a boyish giggle as you turn red. He’s enjoying this too fucking much.

“Cregan Stark, huh?” Aegon chuckles, “Never took you for a puck bunny.”

You glare at him, snapping your book closed. 

“Are you going to help me, or should I direct you toward the academic resource center?” you snap, feeling all too embarrassed for even admitting to Aegon you have a crush on Cregan.

“Relax, bunny,” he teases, holding his hands up in surrender, “I’ll help you.”

He holds a hand out toward you. You glance at his outstretched hand, at the silver rings on his thumb and index finger. Aegon wiggles his fingers at you, expectantly. You raise an eyebrow at him and he sighs. 

“You want to fuck Stark or not?” Aegon asks, causing your eyes to widen, “cause he’s an enigma, you’ll need my help.”

“Enigma,” you say pursing your lips, “that’s a big word for you, Aegon.”

“Not the only thing that’s big,” Aegon answers, like it’s a preprogrammed response.

Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline and you give him a disapproving glare.

“Sorry,” Aegon chuckles, “force of habit.”

“This alliance is time-limited,” you tell him, firmly setting a boundary, “I help you pass, you help me talk to Cregan.”

Aegon’s eyebrows raise, an amused smile on his face. You feel as though you’re selling your soul to the devil himself, the way he’s impishly grinning at you. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” he tells you.

You reach across the table, extending your hand for him to shake. With a smirk, Aegon takes your hand in his, the cool metal from his rings pressing against your fingers in juxtaposition to the warmth of his rough palm. A shiver rolls down your spine as he squeezes your hand. 

“It’s a deal.”

note: as always comments, likes, & reblogs are always appreciated, I hope this sets up the story for you and I'm excited to share where it goes! MWAH LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!! 😘

I'm tagging my HOTD taglist, but will create a separate tag for this fic as well so comment below if you would like to be tagged in future parts!

HOTD taglist:

@bluevxnuss, @thattargboy, @xlilacfrostx, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @marvelescape, @geminithrone, @deltamoon666, @i-killed-ramsey, @tempt-ress, @eddiemadmunson, @zillahvathek, @hangmanscoming, @jojoesq, @f4ll-for-you, @rwdkarla, @cc13723things, @filipiniamultifandom, @watercolorskyy @alexxavicry @sachafirebringer @polireader @jamespotterismydaddy @grv7ay9In35s @sofiaadler @sophielangdonx @doublesparrows, @sophielangdonx, @alitaar, @castellomargot, @paodemorangol1l1, @nik2blog, @arkainea @eddiemadmunson, @malfoytargaryen, @eudximoniax, @targaryen-world, @ghostheartbeat @savagemickey03, @aemondsdaemons, @candypurplebutterfly, @eddiemadmunson, @xxnaly2, @ghostheartbeat, @savagemickey03, @dieg0brandos-wife, @paodemorangol1l1, @hb8301, @padfooteyes, @valeskafics

bold means I could not tag!

✨ click here to be added to taglist ✨

[kaypeace21]

[The future of this BLOG]: SHOWS I'm planning on analyzing here & on YouTube

Interview with the vampire

Invincible

House of the dragon

The boys

Umbrella acadamy

Bridgerton probably (still haven't had time to watch part 2 yet)

stranger things: I have mixed feelings about reviewing it given what certain staff has said and done. I oscilate between wanting to review the final season or wanting to boycott it (especially as someone who has been part of the BDS movement for 1/2 her life). But, on one hand, It's not the fault of the underpaid (and talented) writers and staff who don't have these views. And I do believe some of the writing staff may have good intentions and want to give us a positive and powerful message to the audience about healing from childhood tr*uma. However, other members of the writing staff may just want to go down the stereotypical and popular-easy route. We'll just have to wait and see what happens in the last season. If I hear the ending isn't simply another re-hashing of prior seasons and it's more like s1-2 (without the cliches of s3-4). I'd be more inclined to review it by *cough* and watching it elsewhere. Once I was logged back on to tumblr: I did have a whole draft saved about my politics since I was a kid and why I still feel so strongly about such conflicts, today . But, I shouldn't make the topic about me- and I'm not sure anyone wants to hear my life story XD. So, the big point (to my followers) is regardless of whether I chose to watch it or boycot it-

I'm not deleting the old ST content: so do what you want with it (like, reblog, add details to reblogs I didn't notice). Have fun :D !

Analyzing ST certainly helped me improve in terms of media literacy (and it'll be beneficial for the future content I make). So even if it sometimes got messy here, I do appreciate all the positives the ST blog and followers brought to me.The kind words meant a lot. For those who want to unfollow me for my political beliefs , that's totally fine. That's your prerogative. For those who want to unfollow cause again ST was pretty much my whole blog: again I TOTALLY understand and I wish you the best :). I'm not going to judge, take away, or guilt anyone, for their choice of media they like. Enjoy it (I truly mean that).

For those who continue to follow my blog . I appreciate you SO MUCH! I've been gone from this blog for such a long time cause of school (and I appreciate those who stayed and were excited to see me again). The positive words meant a lot over the years. Everyone have a lovely day. Take care of yourselves.

Sincerely, Kay

ps: I'm open to other media suggestions too so you can drop them in my message box (recent films/ shows, mini/limited series, animation, heck i'm open to comedies and foreign media too).But, analyzing them will most likely be after the shows listed above .Right now I'm focusing on my national exam and my mental health. My first video will probably be in late August or early September. My test is August 20th. Hope everyone is doing well .I'm feeling much better mentally. Hope everyone is feeling the same way :)

for my 1st video I’ll just post it to youtube . But for other videos I may make a early access patreon (like a week before the next video comes out free on youtube). Have to google how all that works (or if there's better alternatives) . Totally fine if you can't afford it (you'll get to see it for free on youtube regardless :D) . I'll be honest . I'm primarily thinking of doing it cause I need to pay off those student loans and I'm trying to hopefully move out of state in a few years. Plus, I love analyzing media anyways (so making it a part time job would be a dream come true .

[lumiinix]

Hey, Pardon for the Intrusion and sudden ask but is the request close? If yes, you can delete this ask and message me but if not. I appreciate it a lot

Could you make a headcanon of Suna, Osamu, Oikawa and Iwaizumi with Silent and Mean but secretly caring S/O (Like Raven from Teen Titans. S/O is snarky, sarcastic, dark and grounchy but secretly gentle to kids, their boyfriend and animals).

Haikyuu boys with a secretly caring S/O.

Pairing(s): Suna, Osamu, Oikawa x gn!reader.

Summary: To others, you are snarky, sarcastic and dark, but to him. You’re someone else.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Hey there, sorry but I only take 3 characters so I will only take the first 3 characters you choose. Other than that, enjoy!

Suna:

He’s your classmate and the two of you actually sit next to eachother.

He saw how people fear you and avoid you and honestly, he kinda did the same for a while.

That is until he saw you stay behind and feed the stray kittens that had just lost their mothers. He was just sneaking away from the Miya twins when he saw you playing and feeding them. There’s a box that have little blankets on them and milk and food around it.

And there was you, your annoyed and gloomy expression change into a much softer one as you play with the kittens, and did he even heard a giggle from you??

He was about to dip out when you caught him, your expression changed into a sort of flustered but still scary one. Clearly trying to intimidate him.

But he isn’t scared anymore, he knows your secret now and he began to teased you about how you’ve gone soft for kittens, which flustered you very much. And the rest is history.

When you two started to date, your favorite activity is to wait for him to finish volleyball practice and then the two of you to go to where the kittens are.

He values this so much as it lets him see a very different you compared to the you everyone else sees.

And boy does he feels special when you suddenly become soft for him, kissing him and holding hands after literally roast the shit out of a guy for breathing wrong-

Osamu:

The first time he meet you is when Kita told ordered him to save Atsumu’s ass from you-

He reluctantly went there when he saw you just verbally bullied the piss haired Miya, and honestly, he’s impressed.

Like it’s not everyday you get to see someone more brutal than Miya Atsumu.

When you saw him tho, you were about to verbally insult him too bc you thought he was with his twin. And he notices this.

So what does he do? He also started to verbally assault Atsumu to show you that he’s on your side and it honestly becomes fun as the both of you just straight up roast the other Miya. And the two of you begin to bond after this encounter.

Yeah Kita did not like that-

When you two started dating, it was Atsumu’s worst nightmare when the two of you were together. Like he literally cower in fear when you started to walk into the room.

And to add salt to the injury, you would become very soft to Osamu, making him bentos and such and acting like a genuinely sweet person. Which freaks Atsumu out even more.

He would love to call that out but didn’t dare to ask you both will verbally assaulted him more.

Kita is now very pleased about the fact that your present cause less fight between the twins, he even personally request you to be in their practices.

Oikawa

Nah yah gotta be childhood friends or smt cause anything besides that you’ll both just hated eachother’s guts for sure.

Like as your childhood friend, he will really hold a grasp on your true soft self and why you always have that mean and dark facade.

And you would know his facade too. A very mutual understanding.

So that’s why you both work so well with eachother…Is what close enough people like Iwaizumi would say.

The rest of the world, they still can’t get a grasp on how the fuck are you two together in the first place, much less together for years.

The volleyball team thought that you’ll be another Iwaizumi until they saw you softly comforting Oikawa when he ran into your arms after he got hit by Iwaizumi.

Yahaba tried to get to your soft side to only to be roast into crips. He took a while to recover from that.

Oikawa’s fangirls hated you because they thought of you as “too mean” but never actually have the balls to do anything about that.

Takeru lowkey loves you since you were soft with kids, it actually makes Oikawa a little jealous tbh, because he thought that he’s the only one that can see it. Let’s just say it took you a lot of milk bread and kisses for him to stop pouting (what a baby).

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[smicksstuff]

Could you write more SMAU’s for Marc Guiu and Héctor Fort?

Secrets

hectorfort! x reader!, marcguiu!xreader!, siblings!xreader!

summary: join elizabeth as she makes her comeback into the football scene. rumours arise about her new bae but are the rumours true ? make shocking discoveries as ellie sets the record straight.

oc: Elizabeth (Ellie) Sainz

-

elliesainz

Barcelona

liked by hectorforrt_, marcguiu9, ybsf, pedri, and 157,874 others

elliesainz i’m back babyyyy !!

view comments

pedri looking stunning as ever !! 😍😍😍

elliesainz 🫶🏽

pablogavi mi favourito is back

elliesainz ❤️❤️

hectorforrt_ my partner in crime is back ❤️

elliesainz shits about to go downnnn

pablogavi no no not more pranks

elliesainz 🤨🤫🤐😈

hectorforrt also why does gavi get a pic and not me

elliesainz you refused to take one

pablogavi she just likes me more 🤫

hectorforrt geez the things i do for this girl and this is what i get 🙄

user1 “this girl” bros jealous his friend is getting more attention than him

user7 omg is she the one that people have been spotting with hector ?

marcguiu9 god i missed youu 🥹❤️ (comment deleted)

marcguiu9 besties back 😍

elliesainz never ever leaving again 😙

user1 geeez who is this girl ???

user2 she got all the boys whipped

user3 ngl she’s got me whipped tooo

user4 this is elliesainz she is a local restaurant owner. she has a little cafe bar in Barcelona called Offside. They have one of the best paellas and drinks. she is quite famous in the barca community !

user2 she aint nobody 😳

user6 she is one hot chef

liked by marcguiu9 and 829 others

user6 no way marcguiu9 just liked my comment

user7 bestiee is there smth going on ??

user8 ngl they would make a cute couple

user3 nahhh my bets are still on her and hector, they have known each other since forever.

-

hectorforrt_

Barcelona

liked by elliesainz, marcguiu9, user7 and 902,262 others

hectorforrt_ we are getting the gang back together

view comments

elliesainz i love you guysss 🥹🩷

marcguiu9 what will i do without you guys

hectorforrt_ absolutely nothing

elliegonzales i second that ✊🏽

marcguiu9 geez thanks guys 😑

user3 shipping hector and ellie so bad now

user7 same bestie, samee

-

elliesainz posted on her story

hector and chef - trending on X

text messages between hector and ellie

-

elliesainz & hectorforrt_

Barcelona

liked by hectorforrt_, pedri, marcguiu9 and 1,039,728 others

elliesainz thank you papa for my big brother who plays professional football. hectorforrt_ i love you but i love your friends a little more 😗❤️

view comments

hectorforrt_ can’t believe im being used for my friends

elliesainz but i said i love you 🥹

hectorforrt_ 🙄

elliegonzales 😞

user3 BROTHER ???? HERMANO ???

user3 hold UPP !! OMG ive been shipping them together for so long

user1 i need 1-3 years to get over this 🤡

user2 ngl i see the resemblance now

emilygonzales I CALLED THIS ON X

pablogavi FINALLY one less secret to keep

elliesainz i had to save you

marcguiu9 i love my sibling besties 🩷

hectorforrt_ yeah but you love me more

marcguiu9 depends

hectorforrt_ on what ?

marcguiu9 well she can cook. you cant do it to save your life

elliesainz awww you love me moree ✊🏼🩷

marcguiu9 🤐🤐🤐

user7 wait how are they related ??

user4 if im not wrong her dad remarried after her mom passed on.

user7 oh, im so sorry for her.

user4 i think its been a secret because her dad didnt want her to be in the media too much. he didn’t want her to be picked on given her past.

[intothedysphoria]

Depending on your point of view, coming across Billie Hargrove’s Instagram account was either the best or the worst thing to ever happen in Stevie’s life.

Stevie didn’t even know that butches could have long hair but this one did. Granted in a douchey eighties mullet type of way. She also had a very pronounced six pack which she was not attempting to hide in any of her photos. Crystal blue eyes. A winning smile. Shit.

Billy, they/she, basketball stan and cringe Judith Butler supporter- 60% girl, 40% something else-meanest lesbian ever

Over the course of about three weeks, Stevie had looked over that profile at least six times a day. They were mesmeric and Stevie found herself wanting to be consumed. She’d never felt this way about a boy before. Not even Tommy Hagan who she’d dated for over a year before they split. And Billy was in fucking L.A. Nothing was ever going to happen between them.

Still, she found herself sliding into their DMs just before going to get her hair done. Nothing too I’ll-stab-you-and-keep-your-body-in-the-basement but like casual. Maybe a little flirty. They didn’t seem like they had a girlfriend.

What she ended up messaging was “hi Billie! You don’t know me but I love your jeans where did you get them from ☺️”

Smooth Stevie. Very smooth.

She couldn’t even talk to her hairdresser during her hair appointment because she was so embarrassed by what she’d done. A small part of her genuinely considered setting her phone on fire until she checked it again after her highlights were in.

Incredibly surprisingly to Stevie, Billie responded and not even that, responded very positively indeed.

It was all Hey pretty girl and smirking emojis and I got my jeans from this underground thrift store or whatever and Stevie didn’t exactly take any of the information in because she was so incredibly flustered.

If she flattered herself, Stevie knew she was pretty. She knew she had big eyes and glossy hair and full lips which usually led to a line of guys queuing up for a shot. Billie wasn’t like any of those frat guys she was used to or the pretentious hipsters she’d dated later on in college. If there was chasing that was going to be done, Stevie was going to have to do it herself.

A gratifying squirm started in her gut the next day, when she realised that Billy had followed her back. Stevie may have been far too chickenshit to actually message her back but still. Progress was progress.

They danced around talking for a bit. Billie always liked her stories but there was never actually any flirting. Just a palpable tension. Something waiting to begin.

Stevie was not a patient woman. So she decided to push it forward a little.

Posting a thirst trap wasn’t something Stevie had done since she was bored during lockdown but how hard could it be? It had to be like riding a bike or some shit. So she just uploaded a couple of pictures, no overthinking it.

After deleting about thirty different messages from guys, all of whom were being creeps in different ways, Stevie finally got to the message she hoped she’d get from Billie. For all the anxiety leading up to it, the actual content was remarkably short.

Cute 💖😙

Robin picked up after the third ring. Judging by the time of her voice, Stevie had definitely woken her up from a nap. Whoops.

“What the fuck is it dingus?” Ouch.

Stevie tried to answer without sounding like an absolute moron.

“Robin how do you know if a lesbian is flirting with you?”

The long silence indicated to Stevie that she’d absolutely sounded like a moron.

“What did she say dingus?”

Stevie told her then she hung up. Which seemed harsh.

Billie messaged again the following day. Again it was brief.

Sorry if I misread. I’ll leave you alone now.

Stevie had never scrambled to reply to a message as fast in her life. Begging Billie not to leave, she wasn’t very good at this type of flirting but she wanted to try.

Billie seemed a lot less bummed after that. And much flirtier. They’d explained about their ocd, the constant fear of being creepy or a bad person stopping her from messaging Stevie more. But now that they were talking they could try. If Stevie wanted.

Stevie did want. She wanted very much.

And when finally visited Billy one person about five months later and they were doing dumb first date stuff, being in love, she thought that was a pretty good story to tell their grandkids about how they’d met.

Embarrassing. But good.

@shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @oopsiedaisiesbaby @thatgirlwithasquid @robthegoodfellow

[daceydeath]

A Working Proposal (Part 10)

Pairings: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin Word Count: 6.6k Genre: Smut 🔞, Angst Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, unprotected sex (don't be stupid), threesome (more like sharing), fingering, oral

You had been working with Stray Kids for a while now and after a long day at work turns into a very unexpected but intriguing proposal. Will this change your world or end your career?

Wednesday's could be hard depending entirely on what sales were the week before and if scandals had given everyone a headache, this Wednesday had however gone smoothly for you at least the meeting of the artist managers that fell at 3pm every week could sometimes drag on for hours if you had not lived up to expectation but since the kids were working so hard and also doing so much press it had become a cake walk for you. Smiling to yourself as you were dismissed within 25 minutes you made your way to Chan's studio to report in with him about what had happened. Finding him and a few of the others recording you stood by the door as to not make any extra noise until Hyunjin had finished his line.

"Come in and sit pretty" Han smiled as Chan stopped recording patting the spot between himself and Changbin.

"Yeah baby come here" Changbin smirked looking you up and down.

"You're back really early, what happened?" Chan asked turning from Hyunjin and his laptop to you.

"Finish recording it can wait Channie" you smiled moving to sit between the boys only to be snatched by Changbin and sat in his lap.

"Bin!" you gasped smacking the large arm that was around your waist as Han pouted obviously having had the same idea and not the same speed to carry it out. Chan rolled his eyes and Hyunjin looked dramatically put out by the whole thing "Sorry Hyunjin" you added quickly.

"You never need to apologize, my princess" Hyunjin smiled softly moving to quickly kiss your lips. He returned to the mic to record the line that you had interrupted recording it perfectly and waiting for Chan to play it back for them all to hear.

"I think you will like this track baby" Changbin murmured his lips against your ear "Since you feature on it?". You didn't follow what he meant and your furrowing eyebrows let the others know you were confused as Chan and Han threw smirks at each other before Chan hit play. The beat was good you liked it, it was a little dark and a little sexy which was always a combination that you liked from them but rarely got. As Changbin's rap started you heard the first add lib which sounded like a grunt or two to make his vocals more aggressive, there were a few more but it wasn't until Hyunjin's rap started that you heard something that was absolutely a moan and absolutely your moan. Your face must have paled enough for Chan to stop the track instantly and the room to go silent.

"Baby? you alright, Bin said that he told you he was going to show us that track you accidentally made, he said you were ok with that" Chan's voice was concerned you could tell that much but you refused to look up from the floor the skin of your face and neck burning with shame.

"Excuse me, I have some other work to do" you whispered your voice too tight to speak properly as you freed yourself from Changbin's arms and picked up your things fleeing from Chan's studio to the bathrooms down the hallway.

You avoided all of them for the rest of the day and went home on time ignoring all the messages and voice notes that had popped up. You had thought Changbin was joking around when he said he was going to share that track, you thought he was going to delete it straight away and you were mortified that they had actually cut it down to put it in a song that even if it sat in Chan's laptop and never saw the light of day would still exist, and they would all know it.

Tired but unable to sleep you found little rest that night dreading the what you would walk into in the morning, scrolling your phone you saw that the messages appeared to mainly be from the 3racha boys, some from Hyunjin. It made you slightly more hopeful that the other members would perhaps be unaware of what had happened and then maybe you could avoid any further mention of it as long as you were with either all of them or most of them.

Your alarm hadn't even gone off and you were already ready for work you left early hoping you could excuse yourself early by scheduling a meeting or something in the afternoon so that you could have time to think through how you wanted to approach this situation. Before you left you decided to at least read what they had to say to you since the messages had still been arriving late into the night.

Chan: Baby we are so very sorry, all of us, I will delete the track like it never happened. We truly are sorry we would never want to hurt you and we did, we will make it up to you I swear.

Hyunjin: Princess, please answer my calls, I need to know you are alright. Please princess talk to us, or me, or even Felix please.

Han: Pretty we thought that Bin had cleared this with you, we never would have put it in the track otherwise. God I'm so sorry, we all are, please forgive us.

The messages were all pretty much the same them apologizing again and again for upsetting you and you knew that they never would have intentionally hurt you it was something that they thought would be funny or would fluster you. Changbin had sent you a dozen voice notes at least so you listened to the first few.

"Baby, I'm so sorry, I fucked up and I know it. Don't be mad at the others I thought that you were all good with it but I assumed too much and I have broken the trust you had in me". "I know I have disrespected you and I never wanted to do that you mean so much to us all, I respect you so much the thought of me causing you pain will be my biggest regret". "I understand this has probably ruined everything between us, I will respect any decision you make and if you do not wish to spend anymore time with me I will accept that. I will make it up to you one day"

You dabbed the tears that were stinging the corners of your eyes, took a deep breath and finished collecting your things before leaving your apartment for work. It was far too early for you to be arriving at the company to begin your day but you knew if anyone was to question it you could blame it on international counterparts, the time difference had in the past meant very early mornings or very late nights so the excuse wouldn't make anyone bat an eye. The night security guard welcomed you with a look of sympathy for having to clock on so early as you passed him and you pretended it was the work that was making it hard for you until you got safely inside the elevator to get to your floor. Looking in the glass panel you notice how haggard you looked after almost no sleep and how poorly your make up hid it but it couldn't be helped, you could visit the make up team to help with it later. Walking to your desk you noticed it looked like a small floral shop, bunches of flowers, soft toys and candy covered it all with cryptic notes that only you would understand. Hastily you pulled out a promotions bag to scoop all the candy into and another to fill with the plush rabbits, teddy bears and other animals hoping you could keep them hidden from any co-workers that would arrive later that morning.

Making your way up to the dance studio you noticed the light was on but there was no music to be heard and you couldn't hear talking or movement so you opened the door anyway grateful to find the room empty. Stacking the bags neatly in the corner you scurried back out and back towards you office to deal with the flowers, not noticing the two pairs of eyes that followed your movements from the end of the hallway concerned. You got back into the elevator only to receive a text from Felix

Jagi, do you want to come back up here and talk about it? It's just me and Minho in the studio.

You realized that they must have seen you or noticed the bags that had suddenly appeared so swallowing your concerns you made your way back down to them.

"Hi jagi" Felix smiled warmly as you stepped into the studio coming over immediately to wrap you in his arms.

"Morning Felix" you mumbled into his shoulder as he squeezed you lightly pulling away enough to press his lips to yours chastely.

"Kitten, are you alright? It is super early for you to be here" Minho, perceptive as ever, tilted his head to study you as though looking for physical evidence that you were not happy.

"I'm alright enough I guess" you half smiled hoping your exhaustion wasn't poking through your makeup. "Have you two pulled an all nighter"

"Hyunjin said you got hurt and that they are pretty angry with themselves" Felix murmured before kissing your temple then your cheek, his arms still wrapped around you comfortingly.

"Changbin royally fucked up didn't he? I guess they are all worried that you will end this with all of us and maybe move back to Itzy or Twice". Minho sighed sadly "In all honesty none of us would blame you even though we don't know the details".

"Please don't leave" Felix whispered.

"I'm not leaving, at least not yet" you reassured Felix before pulling away slightly so he would let you go, stepping forward you were engulfed in Minho's arms and pulled against his strong chest.

"Do you want to tell us and we can talk out the best way to get back at them" he smirked cheekily into your hair.

"I don't want to get back at anyone, I just don't know what to think or feel" you admitted stepping out of Minho's arms and moving to the couch to sit "Maybe although I will stay with the team I should step away from this agreement some what, I think I am too attached to you all now it is inevitable that I will get hurt" you blinked back the tears that were forming on your lashes.

Both Felix and Minho sat beside you silently, it seemed to be them who saw you at your weakest each time it happened. Minho stroking your knuckles with his thumb and Felix kissing your wrist and palm trying to soothe the pain you were feeling. Felix's phone began to ring with Hyunjin's name flashing across the screen, you pulled your hand away while he fished around in his hoodie to grab it leaning into Minho who pulled into his arms your back against his chest as you both watched Felix.

"Hey man, what are you doing up?" he answered trying to sound as normal as possible as he put the phone on speaker.

"Can't sleep, no one here can" he mumbled glumly.

"How did you manage to all get insomnia together?" Felix tried to joke but Hyunjin ignored it.

"Has our princess called you? I asked her to call you if she didn't want to call me I'm worried" Hyunjin sighed deeply.

"Just give her time, I don't know what you guys did but if it's as bad as Minho says she just needs time" Felix may have been talking to Hyunjin but his eyes were on you.

"I never should have let Chan talk me into doing that fucking song, I mean it wasn't his fault he didn't know but if I had just said no...."he trailed off sounding troubled.

"But you didn't know you guys really need to get some rest" Felix tried to calm him "our jagi needs a little space from us sometimes to process, it will be fine I'm sure".

"Night Felix" Hyunjin muttered bitterly "Let me know if she calls though we are all worried, Chan looks like he's going to breakdown he's so worried she will leave us".

"She will never leave us, even if the agreement ends, we promised her that we would all remain the same as we were" Felix tried again to alleviate Hyunjin's worries as you watched on feeling tears in your own eyes "Sleep Hyunjin". He disconnected the call turning to you to cup your face in his hands his worried eyes boring into yours as he wiped the tears from your lashes.

"What song kitten?" Minho asked soothingly now drawing patterns across your middle.

"I went to Chan's studio after the weekly meeting, you guys have worked so hard I was only in there for twenty minutes or so and I wanted to tell Chan how well you had done. Hyunjin was recording so I just sat a waited for him to finish when Hyunjin was happy with his delivery Chan played it back, they put some of that recording the Changbin was meant to delete into the track. It made me feel so dirty, like I am nothing but a plaything for you all, I just left and avoided everyone until I could go home, then I ignored all their calls" you explained quietly looking at the floor knowing you couldn't meet either of their eyes. "I should go upstairs again" you breathed moving to untangle yourself from Minho.

"Kitten, I'm so sorry" Minho whispered not yet releasing you.

"Jagi" Felix's voice cracked making you turn back to him, his eyes watery "please don't leave yet". You paused looking at his angelic face looking so sad before opening your arms for him to join in the cuddle you were having with Minho.

"You are not a plaything, not to me and not the Felix I can promise you that" Minho began "If you feel dirty because of the things we have done that is our fault and we are so very sorry that we made you feel like that" he kissed your ear gently.

"We all adore you jagi, really we do, we want you with us all the time and when you're happy we are so happy because you matter more to us then anyone else" Felix whispered his head laying against your chest "you signing the contract was the best thing that has happened to us since we debuted".

"you're being too sweet both of you" you mumbled feeling your eyes get heavy slowly.

"How much sleep have you had since this happened kitten?" Minho asked softly

"About two hours" you yawned.

"Alright, Felix you get up and hold our girl, I'll pull the cushions down to make us somewhere to rest and I'll lock the studio so no one can get in unless we let them in " Minho instructed helping you into Felix's arms while you sleepily frowned. He was fast with the whole thing pulling the seat cushions and back rests off to make a make shift bed big enough for the three of you to cuddle on which Felix helped you on to before cuddling you against his chest. With a faint click Minho locked the door turned off the lights and darkened the monitor before getting himself comfortable spooning you one arm holding your waist tightly. Closing your eyes you could smell their cologne and shampoos, feel their warmth surrounding you and hear their breathing which lulled you off to sleep.

It had only been a few hours but you felt better when you woke up entangled in the boys arms, Minho's hand had traveled up under your shirt to rest on your stomach and your legs were intertwined with Felix's both boys were already awake, if they had even slept at all, murmuring to each other above your head.

"Do you feel any better kitten?" Minho chuckled as you clung a bit tighter to Felix not wanting actually open your eyes yet.

"A little bit" you whined as he laughed quietly at you his hand travelling a little further up your bare skin to cup your breast kneading it slowly and making you gasp into Felix's chest.

"No fair hyung" Felix muttered placing him finger under your chin to lift your face towards his, his breathe across you cheeks making your eyes open to meet his briefly before he kissed you sensually, lips sliding against yours perfectly while his tongue sought entrance to your mouth. You mewled against his lips his hand slipping into your hair holding you to him while Minho pressed himself against your back lips moving to meet your neck to press feather light kisses and bites to your skin. Your soft pants and gasps seemed to encourage them on Felix moving his leg to press against your core and Minho lightly pinching and teasing your nipples through the fabric of your bra.

"Stop" you gasped as Minho let his hand wander down towards the waist band of your trousers "Not now, not here" you panted as they both instantly withdrew from you.

"Sorry jagi, we know you want to be careful during work hours" Felix breathed stroking your face with his thumb.

"Maybe later then kitten" Minho teased placing one last kiss to you neck moments before knocking started on the studio door and Minho's phone started ringing Chan's name flashing across the screen making you feel panicked all over again. Not answering it he simply stood and went to open the door while you stood up going to move the seat cushions back to where they belonged only for Felix to stop you and pull you into his arms letting you bury your face in his neck if you needed to hide.

Chan, Changbin and Seungmin walked into the room with Hyunjin tailing behind them. Seungmin, you realized by the way he was teasing the others, must have had no idea of what had happened the day before until he saw them notice you in Felix's arms and freeze up.

"What's happened?" he asked instantly looking between them and you.

"Baby? what are you doing here so early?" Chan asked before noticing the pile of cushions and looking at Minho.

"She needed some comfort so she could sleep so she was here with us" he shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.

"What did you do?" Seungmin frowned looking at Chan before walking to you and rubbing his hand comfortingly across your back.

"I'm alright Seugmin, But I do have to get back to my desk to start work" you smiled softly at him as Felix let you go, reaching up you kissed Seungmin's cheek before walking past the others without even looking at them.

Your desk still looked like a small florist when you arrived back at it but since it was only 9:00 only a couple of people had arrived and you could arrange for a courier to take the flowers from reception to your home without too much fuss. Staying at your desk for most of the morning you realized that you would have to start the next lot of promotional preparations which meant going over all schedules, concepts and needs the kids would have to make it a successful promotional period. Taking a few deep breathes you made your way towards the studios to see where you would catch the most members at once. Felix and Minho had spent the night going over the changes they were going to need to put in place for the choreography so you hoped at least some of them would be relearning that. You entered without knocking like you always did you finding instead of actually practicing or rehearsing everyone was mid argument.

"I know I fucked everything up alright" Changbin yelled frustrated.

"That isn't the point you idiot" Seungmin growled furiously "The point is you didn't even ask her did you? You just thought I'll share this with everyone and that was it".

"What happens when she decides that's it she wants out?" Jeongin added sounding angry "She might never be able to trust us again".

"Not to mention she actually told us it made her feel dirty, like we use her as a toy and she means nothing" Minho shouted over both of them everyone looking guilt ridden.

"I felt like that at the time, less so now" you sighed closing the door behind you trying to keep your professional mask in place. "Now I need this promo stuff authorized so can you all concentrate for just a little while so I can get this done for you".

"Angel" Jeongin started looking startled that you had just walked into them arguing about you and kept it together almost flawlessly.

"If you want to discuss it further we can but not right now" you finished firmly meeting his eyes "I adore you guys but right now I need to do my job and not worry about how I feel, so please help me out here".

"Of course what did you need from us?" Chan snapped back into work mode motioning for you to sit down.

"Thank you, I need to make sure this works with your current schedules and I need a solid decision on the concept" You looked up at him while the others all sat around in various places, Seungmin instantly moving to be at your side and Felix on the other.

"The schedule matches ours fine, we might just need to move an interview or two" Chan nodded.

I'll sort that out, now for the choreography are we thinking a more street concept or do you want darker, more rock vibe? I need to get costuming started" you asked still trying your hardest.

"Can I give you an answer by the end of the day?" Minho asked slowly considering his options.

"Of course" you nodded standing back up and moving to leave.

"Would you come back down here for lunch with us?" Seungmin asked cautiously "Maybe we can work some of this out?"

"Let me think about it" you smiled genuinely "I'll let you know" leaving them to work out what they were doing on their own.

Fifteen minutes before your lunch break you texted Seungmin asking if they were in a good enough place for you to join them because you didn't want them arguing the whole time in case someone overheard, not anything about you but overheard that there was any sort of discord in the group, once he assured you that there would be none you agreed to come down for lunch you could always leave if you needed to and you really needed to try to get past it so you could continue your job properly even if you couldn't be sure what you were going to do about everything else. Stepping into the studio it was quiet like they knew they needed to behave themselves making you pause.

"If this is too awkward I can go back upstairs" you sighed looking at each of them knowing that if they said that it was it would make up your mind for you.

"Please stay" Chan smiled at you hopefully "we would really like you to". Your heart swelled in your chest as he looked at you with such soft eyes, you knew he was sorry, you knew he enjoyed you being around but there was something more that he was letting shine through.

"Alright" you nodded walking further into the room, Felix and Seungmin patting the spot between them that would hopefully make you feel comfortable.

"We ordered a bunch of different stuff so hopefully you find something you want" Jeongin piped up gesturing to a bunch of different food containers sitting between the all.

"I'm not that fussy, I eat almost everything" you chuckled taking the chopsticks Seungmin held out for you.

"Fried chicken?" Felix offered, holding out a piece to feed to you, making you giggle and the others relaxed a little as you opened your mouth and took a bite.

"Alright you get a little of everything then kitten" Minho shrugged getting you a plate and putting a bunch of different things on it before passing it across to you.

"Thank you Minho" you knew your voice was quiet but you couldn't pretend that you were totally ok when you weren't, lying to them wasn't going to help. Everyone ate in silence until Hyunjin couldn't do that anymore.

"I'm so sorry princess" he blurted out making you jump a little "please don't leave us".

"I'm not going to leave the team Hyunjin" you furrowed your eyebrows slightly "I'm not sure about the agreement yet but I won't leave the team, I like working with you" you explained.

"So you might leave us?" Han whispered sadly putting his food down.

"I'm not sure yet Han, it's not particularly nice to be made to feel like I'm nothing more than a whore that's here for your amusement" you swallowed hard willing yourself not to cry. "I'm not used to being made to feel dirty and disgusting by people I care about so I have to think about what happens next".

"You are none of those things princess" Hyunjin stressed tears in his eyes. "none of them and we never wanted to make you feel that way".

"I know you didn't, but that doesn't stop me feeling these things" you explained gently trying not to upset him more than he was. "I can forgive you because you didn't mean to, it was not that any of you meant to hurt me, but I can't just forget it". You sighed sadly feeling yourself getting upset but you were going to try not to cry you didn't want the to feel worse you just needed them to understand.

"If you chose to end the agreement we will respect that, I promised you that nothing would change for you, we will still work with you and still care about you" Chan conceded clearing his throat as he tried to keep the emotion out of it but failing.

"Don't end the agreement" Changbin interrupted his eyes glossy "please". You looked at him for the first time since you had heard the track and saw how miserable he was and it made you feel conflicted you were still hurt but you could tell he was sorry, more than sorry you could see that he was hurting too.

"Chan" you closed your eyes collecting yourself as Felix rubbed your back and Seungmin kissed your wrist "If you get rid of the sounds on the track, and you can all swear to me that this will never happen again"

"I deleted the whole track already, the samples, the track of you and Bin all of it is gone" Chan answered instantly cutting you off "and this will never happen again all of us can swear to that".

"You don't have to stay with us" Minho added "Don't say you will because you feel some sort of guilt that we would be upset by you leaving us, you need to do what is best for you. We all care about you, probably more than we thought we would so we only want you to be happy".

"I know Minho, and I will think about it" you smiled faintly interrupted by your phone ringing "I will be there shortly I'm just going over scheduling with them now" you stood up your phone still against you ear and made your way to the door leaving them to watch you leave.

You left earlier than usual that evening feeling exhausted but optimistic that the boys had obviously learnt a lesson out of all of this and you had learnt how much they cared for you in return. Feeling lazy you caught a cab home and decided you would get take out after you had showered and changed into your pajamas so you could just lounge until you went to bed. Still scrolling through your phone deciding what to eat a text from Felix popped up telling you he had already ordered you dinner and it was on its way, he always managed to say or do something small that meant so much to you. The knock on your door came quickly making your stomach grumble as you got up to answer it the anticipation of what he had picked for you making you go to the door faster but when you opened it you were met with a bigger surprise. Holding a bag of food and a bakery box was Felix and behind him holding more roses than you had ever seen in one arrangement stood Hyunjin.

"Hi, come in?" you stuttered still a little stunned.

"We have dinner and dessert" Felix grinned stepping inside and leading you into your kitchen with Hyunjin stepping inside afterwards and locking the door behind him.

"I didn't expect you to bring dinner yourself, or more flowers" you sighed softly.

"We know, I told Felix it might upset you if we just turned up" Hyunjin mumbled not really looking at you as he places the basket of deep red roses down on your kitchen bench.

"I'm not upset Hyunjin, I'm just surprised and also now convinced that you have bought me every rose in the entire city" you smiled slightly looking at the flowers before you plus the eight other vases and boxes of flowers that filled your apartment.

"I don't think we have bought you every rose but we should have you deserve every single one" Hyunjin smiled softly looking at you standing in your kitchen in your pajamas barefaced reminding him of the day he spent here with you before he and the others had broken your heart.

"Sit please" you flushed slightly under his gaze "I'll get us plates and stuff" you shooed them around your kitchen island and towards the couch where they took spots on opposite ends.

Handing them each a plate you brought all the containers into the lounge and placed them on the table, grabbing chopsticks and cutlery you took a moment to decide where to sit which made Hyunjin move to get up.

"Sit with Felix princess , it's alright" he voice cracked sadly.

"Hyunjin please, sit I'll sit between you if that's alright" you swallowed hard hating that you were feeling so awkward around him after he had made you feel so beautiful and loved the last time he was here. You ate in silence for a few a little while before you sighed not enjoying how tense the air in the room was becoming.

"How are we going to fix this?" you asked softly not specifically even needing a response just needing to get the question off of your chest. Hyunjin cupped your face turning you to look at him, it was the first time you had let him since you heard the song. His thumbs caressed your cheekbones so carefully as though you might turn to smoke in his palms and disappear, leaning forward slowly he pressed his lips to yours in a slow sweet kiss letting you pull away when you were ready.

"I don't know but I am willing to do anything you want me to" he whispered earnestly his chocolate eyes swimming with emotion.

"We don't want to lose you jagi" Felix murmured his lips finding your neck as he placed feather light kisses across you skin.

"Don't want to lose any of you" you breathed as Hyunjin lent forward to kiss you again this time deeper and needier.

"Let us show you how much we want you to stay jagi" Felix mouthed against your skin his fingers deftly moving beneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing tracing patterns across your skin.

"Do you want us to show you princess?" Hyunjin asked gently "Show you how much you mean to us?".

"Please" you whispered needily as a familiar need caught fire within you. Felix grinned against your skin nipping at your shoulder then soothing the skin with his tongue.

"Come then princess, let us worship you" Hyunjin murmured as Felix pulled your top over your head and dropped it beside the couch his hands cupping your breasts and squeezing them teasingly. Hyunjin pulled you gracefully to your feet leading you and Felix to your bedroom, a place that they both knew well, beginning to undress themselves while they took turns claiming your mouth. Felix was kissing you passionately when Hyunjin slipped his fingers into the waist band of your sleep pants teasing the elastic slowly before letting his fingers hook them and pull them down your thighs until they fell to the floor and he could begin mapping the skin of your bare skin. His fingers dragged lightly across the skin of your things before delving between your folds making him groan into the mark he was sucking into your shoulder.

"Does she feel as good as I think she does" Felix smirked looking into your eyes as you gasped Hyunin's fingers finding your clit and rubbing it ever so slowly.

"Our princess feels like heaven" Hyunjin purred nipping at your ear "You want first or second Lix?".

"First" Felix grinned kissing you again his fingers teasing your nipples as his tongue rolled against yours.

"One little taste of you princess and our little Felix is hooked" he chuckled letting go of you so Felix could get you exactly where he wanted you. Sitting, Felix pulled you into his lap to straddle him his fingers sliding between your folds to continue where Hyunjin left off smiling brightly when you moaned at his touch.

"So wet for us jagi, so perfect and just for us" Felix cooed as you rocked against his hand the pleasure building which each movement you made "ready for me jagi?" he whispered kissing his way across your jaw.

"Please need to feel you Felix" you whimpered lifting yourself slightly so you could slide down his shaft.

"Fuck jagi" Felix groaned deeply making your walls flutter around him, he began rolling his hips under you fucking into you gently while he pulled you against his chest his lips seeking out your neck to kiss and suckle while you moaned lewdly every time his tip grazed your g spot.

"So good" you whined as your orgasm crept closer, sensing your walls tightening around him Felix began thrusting up into you a little harder groaning as you clamped down on him as your high rippled through you, he continued thrusting until you came down from your high kissing you lips gently.

"My perfect jagi" Felix whispered into your ear grasping your hips tightly to keep you still "Can I give you more?"

"Please" you panted eyes widening with pleasure as he slowly rolled his hips into you, he gently took your chin in his finger to turn your head towards Hyunjin making you watch him as he hungrily stared at you riding Felix's cock and Felix increased the speed he pumped up into you brushing your g spot again and again until you were gasping his name still watching Hyunjin hiss and he tried not to touch his achingly hard cock.

"Do you like Hyunjin watching you take my cock jagi, you like him seeing me fill this pretty cunt?" he groaned as your walls tightened again around him.

"Yes Felix, fuck yes" you cried as another orgasm washed over you making your head fall against Felix's chest as you felt his warm seed fill you.

"I think Hyunjin needs you jagi" Felix purred helping you to your feet steadying you as your faced Hyunjin who still watched you with hooded eyes as you licked your lips looking at him with wide eyes and Felix's cum dripping onto your thighs.

"Lay down princess" Hyunjin instructed gently his voice tight as he stalked towards you "Going to show you exactly why you should stay with us forever" his voice growing softer as you did as you were told. You reached out your arms to him as he crawled over you kissing you lightly all over teasing you with his perfectly soft lips.

"Hyunjin" you breathed wanting him more and more with each kiss.

"You are a goddess" he sighed into your skin "You deserve to be worshiped and revered" his kisses began turning into soft sucking and nibbling as he reached your breasts making you hum with pleasure before continuing up to finally claim you lips in a searing kiss.

"Just want to kiss you forever princess" he whined against your lips biting your lower lip lightly letting his tongue soothe it before delving into your mouth his hands moving to cup your face as you felt his hard length press against your mound. Your mind went blank the longer he kissed you nothing else existed in that moment just his hands, hips lips and finally his cock as he angled his hips to slip inside of you.

"Hyunjin" you keened softly as he stilled above you.

"It's alright princess I only want to love you, let me just love you" He breathed into you hair so only you could hear him as he languidly began to slide his cock out of you again "Love how you feel princess wrapped around me". You whined loudly as he made love to you so sweetly tears began forming in the corner of your eyes as one slipped down your cheek he caught it with his lips groaning as he tasted it on his tongue.

"Hyunjin" you moaned lowly feeling the tendrils of another orgasm making their way through you. Your mid was fuzzy and your eyes glazed as he continued to fuck you lazily but deeply his cock brushing just below your cervix making you legs shake. "Hyunjin" you whined again.

"I have you princess" he smiled dazzlingly as you felt yourself tip over the edge of your high, your vision going white as your walls gripped him and you arched off the bed he followed you moments later growling your name out deeper then you had ever head him painting your walls white like Felix before him. You laid in the middle of your bed dazed your body felt like it was heavier than lead but your mind was floating basking in the perfection of Felix and Hyunjin.

"Is jagi alright?" Felix asked softly as Hyunjin chuckled slipping out of you and moving to grab a washcloth from your bathroom to clean you up.

"She's fine just very tired did you make some tea?" Hyunjin smiled carefully cleaning you up while Felix put a mug of tea beside you bed.

"Yeah and I have the cupcakes but I feel like I missed the fun" he pouted looking between Hyunjin and you as you hissed softly while his cleansed your sensitive flesh.

"You can watch next time" You giggled slowly sitting up as Felix got into bed on your right and Hyunjin on your left.

"I bought dessert and I will totally stay and watch next time" He grinned.

"Eat up princess you need to get your strength back after that effort" Hyunjin chuckled making you smile.

"Is all of this to convince me to stay?" "you whispered.

"Did it work?" Felix beamed leaning in to kiss your cheek.

"Yes it did" you sighed sipping the mug of tea Hyunjin handed you making them both tackle you to the bed to hug you once Hyunjin had put the mug back safely on your bed side table.

a/n: Alright this was a bit of an epic sorry about that (I'm not actually sorry at all) but thank you for reading as always likes, rebolgs and comments fill me with joy and I am eternally thankful for all of you xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz, @symptoms-of-moonlight, @septicrebel, @ayoitschannie, @krishastumblernow, @tangerminie, @elizalabs3, @armystay89, @septemberkisses, @stay-bi, @seolarflare, @damnyouficc, @eastleighsblog, @wohaku, @bakedlilgoonie, @roamingpolar, @tara-skyhold, @spacegirlstuff, @queenmea604, @fawnpeaks,

[theburnoutgiftedkid]

Hello hello! I’m on my obey me shit again thanks to Nightbringer so please enjoy this self indulgent fic. If I was in MC’s place I def would have a breakdown so you will too <3 also I may have sprinkled some itsy bits Solomon x reader

Word count: 800+

Warnings: nightbringer spoilers (just like the main idea, nothing too bad), mental break, hurt/comfort ish, breaking shit, crying, Solomon being soft for reader, gn!reader

- Outlet -

You sat on your new bed in an unfamiliar house in a place that should feel like home. After Solomon dropped the bomb that without reforging the pacts you would essentially be stuck in the past forever, you excused yourself to take a shower to clear your head.

The shower, unfortunately, was counterproductive and actually just made your thoughts more jumbled. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or both or neither. Everything looked the same but nothing was the same. Except for Solomon, but that wasn’t really helping you right now. He couldn’t help you, not really.

You were in the past. You hadn’t even been born yet. Hell, your great grandparents hadn’t even been born yet. You couldn’t go to anyone for comfort. Solomon, bless his heart, doesn’t know how to comfort someone to save his life. Or theirs, considering he always offers to make them food. You didn’t have any family or friends here. Your best friends had no clue who you were, didn’t trust you enough to stay close. You were completely alone.

You had tried to scroll through the old messages between you and your boys, but it’s as if they had been deleted, or never happened. Technically they hadn’t yet. Everything was adding up and you weren’t sure how to let it out. You didn’t like to yell, you weren’t the type, but that’s all you wanted to do. Just scream and curse at whoever or whatever had done this to you. Had taken away everything and everyone you had ever loved and then dangled it in front of you, close enough to see, not to touch.

You stood up and walked over to a desk that sat in your room. On it was an antique lamp, some ceramic statue, and other stuff that really just looked breakable.

So that’s what you did.

You shoved everything off of the desk. The lamp clattering and the statue shattering. With a racing heart, you walked over to the bookshelf just a few paces away and starting demolishing it. Books, heavy and light, were thrown every which way. You went around the room, ripping open drawers and cupboards and just absolutely tearing everything up. Papers, clothes, pens, curtains. Anything and everything that wasn’t bolted down was a victim of your vengeful hands. You threw the covers off of the bed, the pillows following not long after.

Finally, there was nothing left to destroy. But your anger had subsided and this the waterworks began. Tears, hot and fat and unrelenting rolled down your cheeks as you sobbed. Curled up on the bed, hands covering your ears and pulling at your hair as your legs were splayed limp in front of you.

You were unsure how long you grieved for the life taken from you, but sobs had turned into soft sniffles and whimpers. A gentle knock on the door and a soft call of your name brought you back to yourself. You quickly wiped away the tears and snot that dribbled down your chin, carefully stepping over your mess to open the door for Solomon.

His eyes glanced at the room for just a moment before meeting your tired and puffy eyes. With a gentle touch, he guided you out and pulled you to another room, presumable another guest bedroom. You were numb, could barely process the soft words he was whispering as he helped you under the covers. When he turned to leave, you panicked, grabbing his wrist tightly to stop him.

“Please,” you whimpered, eyes welling up again. His gaze softened, “Don’t leave me alone.”

He hesitated, but when you uttered his name so softly, voice wavering with fear and grief, he couldn’t find it in himself to deny you. Then again, he never really could to begin with. Solomon gently lifted the covers, sliding in next to you as you made room for him.

He didn’t protest as you laid your head on his chest, hand tightly gripping his shirt as if he would disappear at any second. His arm draped around your shoulders, holding you against him while his other hand rested on top of your fist that gripped his shirt. The exhaustion caught up to you pretty quickly and he decided to quietly utter a spell that would ensure you a dreamless sleep.

Solomon didn’t fall asleep right away. He stayed up, thinking about you. How could he help you? If you thought it was hard to forge pacts with the brothers in the future, the past will be damn near impossible. They didn’t trust anyone except each other. But Solomon had faith, you had a history of doing the impossible.

He looked down at your resting figure, still holding tightly to him even in your sleep. You huffed, nuzzling your face into his shirt . He smiled, color rushing to his cheeks and he placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. You settled and he finally allowed his eyes to close, vowing with the last bit of consciousness he had that he would help you get back, no matter the cost.

- Fin-