#even if I’m online doesn’t mean I’m going to reply

[rosicheeks]

did you get my last ask? idk if it went through or not _ 🎤

💖

[buzzheadchick]

You ever get terrified of things you did when you were younger and didn’t comprehend consequences the same way?

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (8)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy 🖤

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.

Day or night, Ewan will answer your call. 

Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, “Ewan, what the fuck was that picture?”

He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a ‘this is what you get’ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? He’s been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he can’t muster the energy to care.

“Hello to you too, darling,” he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory. 

Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?

Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity. 

All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you reply immediately. “Why would you post that? I didn’t even know you took it in the first place.”

“I was doing you a favour. Don’t you see? People are under the impression that we’re still together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Darling, you know it matters. It’s not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,” you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Since when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.”

“I know some mean things were being said about you.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you insist, but you no longer sound sure.

“I’m doing you a favour,” he says. “If that picture remains, then it’s basically a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.”

“How can I cheat on you, Ewan? We’re not together.”

He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that you’re right. “You know what I mean,” he musters. 

He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please don’t leave me. 

But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?

You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

He can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, “Hey, baby, you’re the one who called me.”

But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. “Ewan… this isn’t going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make it known that we’re not as in love as everyone thinks.”

He frowns, not accepting that you’re pressing on the topic. “Why?”

“Your memory must be so twisted, Ewan,” you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, “Don’t you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?”

His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. “That… That might not happen.”

“Might not? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t quit, did you?”

“No, I didn’t quit,” he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But can we not talk about the film? It’s not what matters right now.”

“But it does, Ewan,” you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, “you’ve got this important thing, and I… what if I want out? What if I want something real?”

“Something… real.” It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… I just – ”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldn’t even work if he tried. “I… I’m not…”

“Ewan.”

You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks it’s for the best. He responds with his usual, “Darling.”

“What are you going to do about that picture?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he finally decides. 

“What?”

“I’ll get rid of it.”

“Okay. Good.” He can hear the relief in your voice, but he’s not done yet. 

“But you can’t get rid of us,” he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I won’t let you.”

You groan, “Ewan… ”

His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, “Darling.”

He’s met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. “Are you home?” he asks.

“Why?”

Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He can’t let that happen again. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I come over and we can hash it out?” His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldn’t resist. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Maybe so,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I want you.”

He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.

“I can’t believe you, Mitchell,” you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. It’s all he needs.

“See you soon, darling.”

All throughout the night, he doesn’t let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.

Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this can’t last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind. 

This is enough, even for now. 

And so the song remains the same.

Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alyna’s attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter. 

The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat. 

You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. You’ve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewan’s last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadn’t deleted the post – he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.

The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasn’t out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm. 

Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Won’t that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you won’t be his and he won’t be yours?

Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the fiercest bastard in the realm,” Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “Looking for your next conquest?”

“Careful, Matthew,” you shoot back, smirking. “Alyna’s got a list, and you’re edging pretty close to the top.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,” he teases, nudging you playfully. “But let’s be real, you’d miss me too much.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Miss your terrible jokes, maybe.”

“You love my humour,” he insists. “I’m just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.”

You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. “Is Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?”

“Depends,” he quips, a sly grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. “What’s this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either I’m going mad or my five espresso shots are working.”

“Watch it, you,” you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Alyna’s still got some arrows left. And I’m not his sidekick.”

Tom smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re all talk.”

“Want to test that theory?” you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.

“See? Deadly,” Matt says, winking at you. “So, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.”

“Ouch,” Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do my best.”

As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Matt’s eyes tells you he’s noticed too.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.

He grins, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.”

“Sure you are,” you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewan’s intense focus. 

The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their character’s demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewan’s gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side. 

He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewan’s mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, “Ewan, can we get your attention over here, please? You’re off your mark.”

Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. “Trouble in paradise?” Of course they’ve noticed Ewan’s odd behaviour. 

“More like purgatory,” Phia quips, scrunching her nose.

“Something like that,” you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, who’s now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesn’t stray far from you.

“Well, if you need an escape route, just say the word,” Liv offers, her voice full of concern.

“Do you want me to stare back at Ewan?” Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt. 

“Thanks, guys,” you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know there’s no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like he’s one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.

Not long after, it’s time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewan’s gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasn’t so fucking infuriating. 

You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewan’s brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like she’s recounting the world’s most thrilling tale.

“Ewan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,” she says, grinning.

Tom saunters up, “Care to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? You’re scaring the crew, mate.”

Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. “Come on, Ewan. Let’s go for a smoke, it’s stuffy in here.”

Ewan’s clearly torn, but he’s powerless against his friends’ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, you’re free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later. 

The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.

“So, coffee next week?” Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.

“Yeah,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see what I have scheduled then I’ll give you a call.”

“Great. I’ll even let you pick the place. Well, I’ll be off, love, I’m meeting my sister.” he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. “But I’d better give you something to remember me by.”

Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?

As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesn’t say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that he’s bothered. He’s jealous.

“You seemed to be having fun,” he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.

“Mmm, maybe I was,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “Is there a problem?”

Ewan’s eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. “Not at all. Just… nevermind. I’m sure you know, we’ve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.”

You freeze. “Yeah, I heard. What about it?”

“I’m just making sure that you’re okay with it, darling.”

“It’s work, Ewan,” you reply tersely. “We’ll deal with it.”

The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. “So, you’re stealing Matt away from me now?” he teases, and there’s an edge to his question. He’s still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But he’s aware that there’s no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear. 

“Maybe,” you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. “He seems to like my company.”

Fabien laughs, though there’s a hint of something serious beneath it. “I’ll allow it – this time. But don’t forget, I’ve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.”

As Fabien’s laughter fades, Ewan’s voice cuts through the lightheartedness. “I don’t think she needs your protection, Fabien.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “I don’t need looking after, Ewan.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.

For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy. 

“See you around, Fabs,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you for our shoot, yeah?” you tell Ewan, making it clear that you’re not up for another dalliance in between. 

He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesn’t just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldn’t. 

He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest. 

You’re exhausted. You’re frustrated. You shouldn’t give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home. 

If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a moment’s notice. Isn’t that just a knife in the gut?

You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.

Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.

You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewan’s hold.

Fabien can only roll his eyes. 

Only two days later, and you’re back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesn’t dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place. 

Walking onto set, you’re struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire. 

Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think it’s just you admiring your boyfriend as expected. 

He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, “Howdy, darling.”

“Why, hello, good sir,” you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy. 

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, and you’re sure if he’s referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former. 

As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. You’re clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively. 

For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horse…

The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of this look. 

“Alright, let’s try a more dramatic pose,” the photographer instructs. “Maybe something with a bit more attitude.”

You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewan’s gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line. 

“I can’t even articulate what you’re doing to me, darling,” Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.

You smirk, “Speak for yourself, Mitchell.”

“Mmm,” he hums, satisfied. 

The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.

His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. “You’re making this incredibly difficult, you know.”

You tilt your head slightly, “Difficult how, exactly?”

“Keeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,” he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. “It’s like you’re daring me to break every rule we’ve set.”

That you’ve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. “So what if I am,” you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you. 

For the next few minutes, it’s a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.

In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. He’s seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.

His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. “Doing anything tomorrow?”

You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. “Actually, yes.”

His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Care to elaborate, darling?”

You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “I’m supposed to grab coffee with Matt.”

“Matt.” Ewan’s voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. “Just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. “Is it… is it a date?”

“I think that was implied,” you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.

“Really.” His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Why the long face?”

Ewan’s hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. “Fuck, I—”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

“No, just…” His voice falters, his emotions raw. “I don’t want you to go.”

You blink, taken aback by his admission. “Are you being serious right now, Mitchell?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ewan’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.

But nothing feels right anymore. 

“I don’t know,” you retort, your voice rising slightly, “I hope you are. Because you can’t just say that to me.”

“But I am.” His tone is resigned but unwavering. “I don’t want to watch you with someone else.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. “Then I’m ignoring what you just said. This isn’t fair to me.”

His face falls. “You can’t just ignore it. It’s not that simple.”

You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Well, I don’t see how this conversation is going to help anything.”

He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. “I just – damn it. Wait a minute, darling – ”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Look, if you’re going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink – ”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice desperate. “I don’t want to rethink anything. I just… I need you to understand that this isn’t easy for me.”

The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you. 

You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.

Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.

Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?

He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness won’t let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.

A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.

“Evening,” he says, opening the door wider to let them in. “Glad you could make it.”

Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. “We came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.”

Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. “And some beers. We figured you might need them.”

Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know it’s inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. They’re the rescue squad after all. 

“So… we have a feeling we know what’s been eating at you,” Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. “We saw the headlines, mate. Don’t even deny it. It’s gotta be rough.”

Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Yeah, the headlines. they’re , uhhhh … oh, what does it even matter?”

Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Come on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We weren’t cast as siblings for no reason.”

Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... it’s like a punch to the gut.”

Tom nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m sure it was fun at first, but – ” 

Phia’s concern wins over her, leading her to interject, “Ewan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.”

Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see where that leads.”

Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ask her why she ended things last year.”

“I know why – ”

“Just… ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.”

Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, “It’s better than letting it fester. At least you’ll know where you stand. You owe her that much.”

Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. “Maybe. I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”

Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, “He’s right, you know.”

Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. “To Aemond and Alyna.”

“Oh, you absolute rascal,” Phia laughs in disbelief. 

But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewan’s mind is still consumed with thought.

Day or night, you will answer Ewan’s call.

“Hello?” your voice patches through after a few rings.

“Darling,” he says, “I think we need to talk.”

💌 next chapter

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?

In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?

Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)

The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below 😉💙

[bahablastplz]

Best friend's brother: Chan x reader

Thinking about best friend's brother Chan that has always been secretly obsessed with you Content: extremely fluffy, slight hurt/comfort, smut, really vanilla smut but super sweet Warnings: Oral sex (f! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex WC: 2000

Obviously, you and your best friend were inseparable. You grew up right next door, and her parents considered you to be another one of their children. You and Hannah were, for lack of a better word, siblings. Her older brother, however… that was a situation that you weren’t sure how to explain. 

You had always harbored feelings for the older man, despite the guilt that ate away at you. You could never tell Hannah that, however. Nor would you ever tell Chan or let your desires come to fruition. 

Which is why, once you came home for summer break you had no problem getting ready for your date at Hannah’s house. Though the thought of her brother being there made you gulp, you would just have to hope you wouldn’t run into him and everything would be fine–

“What’s got you dressed all up?” Of course, Chan appears from behind and makes eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. Hannah is sprawled across her bed and scrolling through her phone. 

“She’s got a hot date,” Hannah replies, snarkily. 

“Hot date?” Chan inquires while crossing his arms. He holds a slightly disapproving glare. 

“Yeah, with some guy she met online. He’s a real smokeshow–” 

“Hannah!” You say sharply, willing your best friend to somehow spare you the humility. 

“Where is he taking you, hm?” Chan says with a small, teasing lilt to his voice. 

“We’re going to a club…,” you whisper. 

“On the first date? No no no, that’s just a recipe for disaster, Y/N.” 

“It’ll be fine, Chan!” Hannah says. She doesn’t even bother to look him in the eye, so he bores holes into your own instead. He mutters out something about how he doesn’t like this and that you should really be careful before returning to his room.

As you finish getting ready, you admire yourself in the mirror. Your black dress hugs your body just right, and your makeup brings out just the right contrast to your face. Hannah says out loud exactly what you were thinking: 

“You look hot.” 

As you share your location with her and get ready to leave the house, it is almost 9 p.m. and your uber has arrived. Though you know the night will most likely not end up with you falling head over heels in love, you’re still hoping to have a good time and maybe get to know the guy more. However, before you step out the door you feel a hand grab your wrist. 

Chan is looking at you with a look you don’t recognize in his eye and you pause, waiting for him to speak. 

“Please, be careful. If anything happens, you have my number. I don’t care what time it is, you can reach out. It doesn’t matter if he’s being a creep or if you just don’t want to be there anymore, I will come and get you,” he says. He looks at you softly before adding, “And even if you don’t need me to get you, please text me when you’re home safe.” You could tell he was genuinely worried and this made your heart pang slightly, making it harder to will away the crush you have on the man. 

Your date shows up late, for starters. After twenty minutes you take your first shot, and your second drink arrives when your date does. He is unapologetic and starts touching you the second he sees you–that’s when you realize he is already wasted. Letting out a groan, you humor him with one dance, but when he immediately starts grinding on you you decide you have had enough. 

“I’m not really feeling it,” you say. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.” 

The man scoffs and immediately becomes defensive. “C’mon darling, you’re not going to show up looking like that and then act like a prude, are you?” He spits out some more mean insults that you don’t hear, because you’re already out the door and dialing Chan’s number. 

He picks up on the first ring. 

“Are you okay–” 

“I’m fine, can you please come and get me?” 

“I walked out the door the second I saw your name flash on my screen,” he says. You hear his engine start and know he is telling the truth. 

It’s cold outside, but Chan has the heat pumping in his car when he pulls up. You curl into yourself, feeling embarrassed at the situation you’ve found yourself in. The ride is silent, though it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s playing your favorite music. 

When he pulls up to your driveway, he puts his car into park. 

You start talking before he says anything, even though you know he wasn’t going to force you. 

“He showed up completely trashed and started touching me before I even really talked to him,” you said. Tears start streaming down your face and you hope that Chan won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. He leans over the center console to wipe a tear away. 

“He showed up drunk? Oh, I’m so sorry… you don’t deserve that,” he says. “I knew it was a bad idea.” 

You know he’s trying to console you but you feel so defeated. “Why is it such a bad idea for me to want to go out and have fun?” You practically cry out. “Why does everybody else get to have a normal dating life and get to hook up with people and enjoy college, but when I try to do it it never works out?” Chan just nods along to your words. 

“You just haven’t tried with the right person yet, Y/N…” 

“There will never be a right person, because the one I want is you and that’s never going to happen!” You slap a hand over your mouth and stiffen when you realize what you had said, and when you meet Chan’s gaze you see that he’s staring at you with wide eyes. You’re completely sober now. 

You are out of the car lightning fast, slamming the door behind you and racing to your house. You’re fully sobbing now as you unlock your door, but when you go to slam it behind you Chan sticks his foot in, holding it open. He uses the opportunity to invite himself in and immediately you’re in his arms, in a warm embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you say against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, I–” 

“Don’t say that,” he warns. “Don’t you dare take it back.” 

“Chan, I–” He pulls you away to meet your gaze, placing his hands around your face and using both his thumbs to wipe your tears away. 

“Y/N, I have known you for as long as I’ve remembered and I’ve never seen a part of you that I hate,” he says. “I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with you every day, so to hear you say that… Please don’t take it back. Please don’t tell me that you don’t want this,” he trails off, his eyes darting to your lips. 

You crash your lips into his at full force and breathe against him, completely enamored. He picks you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist and carries you to your room, the one he had been in more times than you could count, all while keeping his lips locked against yours. He drops you onto your bed with a flop and you bounce, observing his admiring gaze. His lips are on you again, then they trail to your neck, leaving long burning kisses behind as he trails lower. His thumbs press into your waist. 

“It made me sick,” he confesses. “The thought of you going to the club with some guy that was just going to use you. Some guy you had never met, someone who would never in a million years make you feel the way that I could.” 

He drops to his knees at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to his face by your hips. He pulls your legs apart, slotting his body in between them, and starts pressing soft kisses to your thighs. You watch his every move, your body relying on your elbows to keep you upright so you don’t miss a second of this. 

“Say it again,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me, that you need me as bad as I need you.” 

“Chan please,” you breathe out. “Wanted you for so long… Thought you’d never like me like that.” 

“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you.” And with that, he lifts your dress up. It bunches against your waist messily and his nose presses into your clothed core. You groan out at the contact and he does as well, placing agonizingly slow kisses and licks against you. He grabs at your waistband and you lift your hips, allowing him to slide them off of your body. He wastes no time before diving back in and your head lolls back at the feeling. 

“Look at me, please,” he begs. “Let me watch you fall apart.” Your eyes snap back to meet his gaze and you immediately feel so comforted and seen from his expression. It allows you to let yourself relax as he flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit. 

He watches your every expression, every hitch of your breath and every buck of your hips, expertly making you fall apart on his tongue. One finger slides inside of your pussy, pumping in and out experimentally, and you feel yourself coming to your peak. 

“God, Chan, please–” 

“I gotcha, baby,” he says. “Come for me.” You fall apart for him completely knowing that he will be right there to put you back together, and he helps you ride out your high, observing the fucked-out look on your face as if it would be the only time he would ever see it. 

You pant and reach for him and he interlocks his hand in yours, coming up to kiss you even more passionately than before. He presses his clothed bulge into your center and you hiss at the contact, still sensitive. 

“Can I?” He asks. 

“Please,” you respond. His pants are slid down and he pushes himself into you in a moment. You feel emotionally overwhelmed, looking down to see where you are completely and utterly connected. The way his breathing becomes shallow, you know he’s thinking the same thing. 

He picks up one of your legs, wrapping around your shoulder and starts pistoning into you, and the change of angle makes you go utterly weak. Your back arches and his lips are against your skin, anywhere they get a chance to meet. 

“All mine,” he grunts. His hips start slamming into yours faster, and one hand reaches up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises that might be starting to slip. “Say it… say you’re all mine and only I get to… fuck, see you like this.” 

You can tell he’s close, and the hand that reaches down to start rubbing against your clit confirms your suspicions. 

“Chan… so close… I’m all yours, Chan, please, please…” His name releases from your lips like a mantra, and as you feel yourself come to your high once again and clench around his length, he pulls you even closer, releasing himself into you. 

Your arms wrap around him and your fingers run through his hair comfortingly as he collapses on top of you. 

You and Chan have always been relatively close by association, particularly given the situation, but at the moment you and him are so intertwined you aren’t sure you can ever let go. 

He holds you as you fall asleep that night. 

“Do you think Hannah will be mad?” you ask. 

“No way,” he mumbles against you. “She’s been trying to get us together for years.” 

You laugh incredulously against the man. Though you weren’t expecting to find your true love that night, you guess life had other plans.

*** First real ff post on tumblr yay!! Welcome to my skz blog, I wanted to start off with something tame lol...I have a lot of really exciting things planned to post so stay tuned <3 Masterlist Recs

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (very minimal), mentions of readers past relationship, some bond building, smoking, some tense moments

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4!! - part 5

————-

“Captain?” Soap yells from afar to get what seems to be prices attention. When he realizes that is indeed his captain he jogs to where John stands.

“What’re ye doin’ back?” Soap question a little confused, after their last two month mission John was granted leave for three months to recoup and rest. 

“Just came to turn in these files.” He says waving the Manila folders in his hands.

“You could’ve just done that online, you know.” And yes John does know and by the look he gives Johnny he also knows.

“What, trouble in paradise?” Johnny smiles widely at the guilty look on his captain's face.

“Something like that.” John replies clearly a little tense.

“Well, tell me about it.” He says waiting expectantly.

“Over some drinks Sergeant.” Price replies before making his way into the building and soap returning to the trainees.

————-

“Oh that’s fucked mate.” Ghost says.

“Captain no offense you’re a very intelligent and capable man but that is so fucking stupid.” Gaz states before taking a drink of his beer. 

“You thought oh I’m catching some feelings for her, let's just ignore her.” Soap says in a mimicking voice.

“No, it's not only that, I don’t have time to entertain dense feelings and she likely doesn’t share those same feelings.” His gruff voice replies as he takes a puff of his cigar and blows the smoke out into the pub they sit in.

“Did you ask her?” Gaz asks, already knowing the answer.

“Am I twelve? What grown man asks a woman if they have feelings for them usually there’s hints and clues you can pick up on.” Ghost grumbles in agreement from price earning a slap on the arm from soap.

“And she’s done nothing that may even give you an inkling that she’s into you mate?” Gaz quips in.

“Like “oh hey captain can you help me open this jar?” Or “price can you please help me fix this?” Johnny tries his best at a womanly voice. 

“First of all she doesn’t call me captain or price and second of all, yes she does that but it’s only because she needs the help.” They all look at him with blank stares.

“I bet you wish she’d call you captain.” Soap whispers but before John can reply Gaz starts.

“Captain, does she ever stutter when you talk to her?” Gaz asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

“sometimes.” He excuses that as human behavior. 

“When she noticed your avoidance, did she get upset?” I mean you got a little mad at him that once but that was cause he was overstepping. 

“A little.” He replies not really seeing where it’s going until oh.

“Yeah cap, you're being naive.” 

“You should go back there, be kinder and less weird. She probably thinks you don’t like her and if that lasts too long she’ll start to actually not like you.” Well he obviously can’t have that.

“We need a mum anyways.” Gaz says under his breath and soap agrees. 

“What?” 

———————

“Hey you’re back.” You can’t resist the small smile that makes its way onto your face as John walks into the kitchen.

“Told you I’d only be a day or two.” He repeats his words from a couple days ago, hands awkwardly in his pockets. 

He notices there’s something different in your energy that he picks up on or maybe it’s his energy that has changed.

“Yeah but last time you said a month and we’re gone two.” He remembers that and sees your point then he thinks about the fact that you remember that. 

“Well last time I really didn’t think I’d be gone that long but you know.” He says not going into detail and just waving it off.

“Well I have a job to get too.” You say closing the package of blueberries you’d been eating out of then place them back in the fridge.

“On a Saturday?” He questions the unusuality of it.

“Yeah I had a woman call me this morning, said her wedding was next week and she really wanted me to be the one to give her her dream hair so I agreed.” 

“Okay then, I’ll see you later, doll.” He says as you grab your keys and purse getting ready to leave.

“Bye John.” You smile softly looking anywhere but him cause if you did the smile that lays on your face at the newfound nickname would be too evident. 

————-

“Hey so we’re just doing some highlights and a cut right.” You ask the woman in your chair as you drape the cape over her paying mind to her swollen belly and button it in the back.

“Yeah I actually have some pictures if that’s okay.” She says pulling out her phone to show you.

“Great, I’d love to see them.” You say getting your equipment ready.

She shows you and by the already light tone of her hair this will be easy work. You get everything settled and ready, mixing the bleach and color and sorting through the pieces you’ll paint.

“So what made you ask me to do your hair?” This is a question you always love to ask your clients. Was it social media or a referral or maybe something else.

“My finance actually recommended you.” Her fiance.

“Oh I don’t actually do men’s hair, who’s your fiance?” You question a little confused but clearly he might’ve just seen you on instagram or had a friend who’s been with you.

“Brian, he said he used to know you and heard you did really good hair.” No fucking way.

“Oh yeah I know Brian old friends.” You smile through the tears that threaten to escape your eyes. 

How could he? How could he give this woman everything you’ve ever wanted then send her to you to show off that goddamn-

“He says to tell you hi.” She smiles looking back at you not having a clue of who you really are. 

“Oh tell him I said hello.” You reply shortly.

“How’d you two meet?” You ask curiously.

“We actually worked together and when we first started talking he was actually in a relationship but nothing serious and the more we spent time together it just became clear we were meant to be together.” Her.

“So he cheated on his ex partner?” You say in a polite tone, one a girlfriend would use.

“Well I guess you could say that but according to him their relationship was over before it was over.” You smile at her nodding in understanding. 

Scream, you wanted to scream your fucking head off the rest of the appointment. But no you stood there politely and gave this woman the most beautiful hair you could’ve imagined you even took fucking pictures for her to send to you’re cheating ex.

—————

On the way home you cried out of anger not even out of jealousy, or sadness just anger at the audacity that man had and the years you wasted with such a fucking loser.

When you pulled into the driveway you turned the car off and just sat there. You sat there and pondered on everything. You’d always asked him for a baby and he’d said he would never be a father. You always wanted to get married and he would say “marriage isn’t my thing.” And yet he’ll do it all for another woman. A woman he really loves. 

But in the end you're glad it’s not you. It isn’t you that has to deal with that man child, it won’t be you who’s stuck with someone who isn’t faithful. In the end you’re the lucky one and finally you feel like you can let it go. 

So you dry your eyes and head inside, kicking off your shoes by the door and paying notice to John that’s currently in the living room. You walk over to the couch and sit a comfortable amount of space away from him simply testing the waters and watch the football game he has on.

“How was your appointment?” He says suddenly taking in notice of your puffy eyes.

“Good.” You reply in a whisper with a half smile.

“You’re lying.” He assumed maybe just an asshole client or the outcome wasn’t good.

“It was my ex boyfriend's new pregnant fiancé, who also happens to be the woman he cheated on me with.” You admit with a small laugh at the end with how ridiculous that sounds.

“You got cheated on?” He asks, thoroughly shocked not paying mind to the other details.

“And she’s hot.” You reply looking him in the eye. All he’s thinking is hotter than you?

“Did she know who you were?” This has to be the most mind fucking thing he’s ever heard.

“Not a clue and what's funnier is he recommended me to her.” You laugh again and it’s slightly scary how calm you seem.

“You’re not upset?”

“John I was over that man the minute he cheated on me. I’m only upset over all the time I lost wanting things he said he never wanted but what he meant was he never wanted that with me.” You say quietly between the two of you like it’s a secret. 

“His loss.” he says, offering you a small smile.

“I guess.” 

“No doll I know.” You don’t know what to make of that comment and just smile back at him. 

————-

Later that night after a long shower you step onto the outside patio for some fresh air not noticing John smoking a cigar beside you. 

“Jesus!” You jump slightly at the sight of his looming shadow.

“At this point just expect me to be everywhere.” He laughs as he exhales the puff of smoke. 

“I didn’t know you smoked.” You reply before taking in the sight before you. John in Levi’s, a thermal and brown leather jacket, thick fingers holding a cigar between them lightly tapping it to drop the excess ash.

“I’m sorry, does it bother you?” He asks suddenly, concerned about whether that was in the policy or something. 

“No, not at all.” You smile shivering at the breeze that blows through the air.

He offers the cigar between his fingers by gesturing it towards you, you’ve smoked cigarettes but this thing looked like a cigarette on steroids. Nonetheless you didn’t decline the offer and hesitantly wrapped your lips around it giving it a small puff letting the earthy flavor consume your taste buds as you exhale. 

John watches you with longing eyes. Truthfully he expected you to grab it from him but instead you toked it straight from his fingers and shit it was hot. The way your lips wrapped around the very end had him running hot suddenly. The layers he wore were becoming overbearingly warm. 

“Do you ever wish you chose a normal career?” The question left your lips before you could think about why you were asking it and he clears his dirty mind before answering. 

“Not really, my job makes me feel like I have purpose and although my hands get dirty it’s for a good cause.” You nod as you look up into the blue sky that’s slowly becoming darker. 

“You do have purpose outside your job though you know that right?” You look him in the eye for a mere second then back up. 

He’s taken aback slightly by your statement and stays silent. He lets it settle in his thoughts and feelings. Wondering what prompted you to say it in the first place.

“Thankyou.” He replies shortly after. 

“You're welcome.” You reply gently.

“I’m going to head inside, don’t be out here too long you’ll get sick.” You say sliding the door open and he laughs in return. If you even had the slightest idea of the weather he’s lived in. 

———

You woke up the next morning bright and early, currently stood in the kitchen brewing hot water for tea and setting the coffee machine on. One for you, one for John. He was surprisingly still asleep although it also is still very early. He never sleeps past 7.

As you turn the heat off the stove, knocking sounds at the front door. Maybe a package you assumed as you made your way down the hall peeking through the small hole to see who’s out there and to your surprise it was a woman. 

“Hi, how can I help you?” She looks at you a bit taken aback.

“Does John Price live here?” She asks as her blonde hair blows in the cold breeze. 

“Yeah?” 

“I need to speak to him.”

“Okay I’ll be right back.” Was this a lover of John’s, maybe an ex wife or something. You knock softly at his door and nothing so you knock a little louder. Before you hear a grunt and the squeak of the hardwood floors.

“Morning, y’alright?” He asks with a deep sleepy voice. 

You take notice of His messy hair and pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips so you practically beg and will yourself to not look at his body. 

“Yeah sorry there’s a woman at the door for you.” You reply smiling when you notice the sleep marks on the side of his face. 

“Oh okay let me just put a shirt on, tell her I’ll be right out.” He can already guess who it is and quietly curses to himself. No peace of his ever lasted long.

You relay the message to her and offer her to come inside which she politely accepts but goes no further than the entrance. 

“I’m Kate by the way.” She offers her hand to you. 

“Oh nice to meet you Kate, are you a friend of John’s?” You pry.

“Oh yeah, a longtime one.” You should’ve known.

“We’ve been working together since he was a lieutenant and that was ages ago.” She laughs and you feel light with relief for whatever reason.

“Laswell.” A deep voice sighs out from behind her.

“Well don’t be too excited to see me.” She says to him.

You get the message to exit the room and do so. He walks with her to the kitchen, offers her a drink then they both go to his office and from the sound of it have a pretty heated conversation. Not that you were eavesdropping or anything.

———-

It was hours before she left and when she did John didn’t seem too happy. You walk to the door a bit after you hear it shut. John stands there running a hand through his hair.

“You okay?” You stupidly ask as he rubs his forehead still standing in front of the door although she left 10 minutes ago.

“Yeah doll I’m alright.” He sounds tired and bothered. 

“Okay.” You begin to turn around getting the feeling he doesn’t want you there. 

“Wait, actually I have to leave tomorrow for a while..” He replies quickly. 

“Oh.” You try not to sound too disappointed.

“I’ll leave you a check for six months, if I’m gone longer my checkbook is in the bedside drawer. If you need assistance with anything I have a friend you can call please don’t do it yourself or have someone else do it.” He says as you stand there not getting past the eight month part.

“Six months or longer?” He meets your eyes seeing a hint of sadness.

“Yeah that’s what I can expect.” You suck your bottom lip between your teeth for a second not really knowing how to reply. 

“Are you hungry?” 

“What?” He replies at the random change in topic.

“Would you like to order too much food and watch a movie?” You ask again.

“Sure?” 

“I mean if you’re leaving for months and you seem upset about it then it’s serious and when’s the next time you’ll eat good food, you know?” You explain.

“Italian?” 

“Italian.” 

——————-

You both sit on the living room couch in the dim ambient light while “How to lose a guy in 10 days” plays on the TV, your choice. Empty boxes once filled with pasta and bread now are mostly empty. You tell John every time one of your favorite parts is coming on but not like you even needed to. He can tell by the anxious shake of your foot and slightly raised eyebrow.

“So does he ever find out that it’s for the em magazine and does she find out it’s for a bet?” He asks midway through the movie.

“You’ll have to watch it.” You whisper.

He laughs and for a moment in time he feels content, at ease for once. He feels like this is the moment he’ll recall in the next eight months when nights are cold and he’s spent. 

Your eyes are drifting closed before the movie is over and he watches you find sleep then returns his attention to the tv determined to finish the movie. Once all is done he picks the containers up off the floor quietly and turns the tv off kneeling to the floor to wake you.

“Doll let’s get you to bed.” He whispers in the dark. You're slightly disappointed you fell asleep but your drowsy mind doesn’t let you think too deeply as you bid him a goodnight and head to bed.

————-

The next morning he was ready to leave at 4AM. Big duffel bag in hand and a backpack. He thinks of waking you to say goodbye and even walks to your door. But he doesn’t not because he doesn’t want to but because he won’t want to leave if he does. Internally he curses himself for wasting so much time avoiding you the previous weeks. 

So he writes a quick note and of course the promised check and heads on his way.

—————-

Next chapter is already written and I’m so excited at the build up!!

Comments and reposts are always appreciated<3

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic

[gayerthanevertbh]

widow behind closed doors pt. 1 | n.r

summary: You moved into a Craig's list apartment and met a woman through an online chat. Despite issues with your parents, you felt seen by the woman, the fleeting excitement rushing through your heart as she continues to develop a relationship with you online. However, the owner of the building, Steve Rogers, warns you to avoid the upper floor. You followed his orders, but wonder who lives behind closed doors and most of all, who is the woman behind the phone?

warnings: online dating, slight dark!natasha romanoff, age difference (natasha is 40 while reader is 20,) g!p natasha, manipulative behavior, and smut - 18+ minors dni

notes: not sure if i want to make this a story but this is just in case if i do. this is just the start of the series, this will also be posted on ao3 so let's see how it goes! let me know if you want me to continue it. don't worry, training season chapter two will be posted soon :)

Last month, as you turned nineteen, your mother kicked you out. Naturally, you lived at a friend's house for a short while until you had enough money to rent a new apartment close to your university. The fact is, out of all the websites, Craig's List was the one you used when looking for this apartment complex.

Fairly speaking, the apartment building looked normal—at least from your own vantage point—and had the required utility. Mail from the outside, a laundry facility, and a smoking section. Though you occasionally light one, you do not smoke. Conversely, your friend Julie smoked as if her lungs were not burning. She never listened to your advice about not smoking three times a day.

With a big huff from your lungs, you toppled the last box outside of your chamber. Steve and Wanda were two people who assisted you in getting settled. Grading them for helping you arrange things in your new room, you turned around with a friendly smile.

“Thank you again, Mr. Rogers,” you said as you shook his hand. “This room is pretty big.”

“No one really rents here,” the man replied with a small smile on his face. “It’s the least I can do. You know, especially that you’re a student.”

You chuckled, turning your head away. “Please, I don’t even want to hear about that.”

“How old are you?” Wanda asked with a curious look on her face. 

“I just turned 20 last month,” you said with a pained groan. It is not so ridiculous given your connection with your mother; you did not forget the time she kicked you out of the house. “How about you?”

She smiles. “We’re the same age! If you have time, maybe you could stop by my room. It’s just on the left corner of the building.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You both fell into silence until Steve held his hands together, staring at Wanda and then back at you. “Well, you should settle in. If you need anything, I’m just downstairs. You know the number of my apartment, you can just knock at anytime.”

“Steve, should we tell her about N—”

“We also want to inform you not to go to the upper floor,” Steve interrupts Wanda and says Your eyebrows wrinkled as you looked at the girl and saw her covering her face on her shoulder. “We have a friend who can be very... mean. She doesn’t like anyone going to her floor and she’s technically also the owner of this building.”

“Really? Oh,” you huffed, wondering who they were talking about. “Don’t worry, I will not go up there.”

Steve put his hand on your biceps and patted. “Thanks, kiddo. Anyway, just knock on our doors if you need any help.” 

You closed the door and sighed longingly as soon as they left your room. Today was going to be a long day of you sorting every box you had in this room; you would most likely desire take-out after all this chaos. You considered the woman living on the top floor as you were making your bed. What did she look like? When they claimed the woman was peculiar, what did they mean? So many thoughts crossed your head, trying to figure out who the woman was they were talking about. You shrugged, minded your own business, and soon nodded off. 

———

Late at night, you placed an order for a pizza, tried to watch a movie on your laptop, and visited a website none of your friends knew you were first visiting. Almost as if it were Omegle, the service allowed users to communicate with total strangers—and you could add them as friends via chat. Alone, you were eating a slice of pizza and texting a few people from the website. Carl, a male, asked whether he might have coffee with you tomorrow afternoon, but you gently turned him down since you just moved in. When, really, you have no interest in men. You consider them not as a lover but rather as a need.

Though it sounds horrible, that is reality. Men are often cruel, while women can communicate with you through their elegant, luxurious words. You enjoyed the sensation when a woman complements you for not just your appearance but also for the way you talk from your mind. It was not surprising that they adored you for your beauty; sometimes it can feel fantastic, but you wanted to be really understood—not only by appearance. And so, after some time, you were ready to shut your laptop until you noticed an email sign on top left.  

Someone has left you a message. 

You boldly opened the message and found a woman called Natalia messaged. As you went over her message, you grinned.

Natalia: Hey there! Are you new here?

You: no not really lol xD i’ve been using this website since a year ago.

Natalia: Strange :P I never saw you on my suggestions. Do you have an age limit to 40 plus?

You: yeah! i wanted to try something new

Natalia: Hm. Maybe that’s why I’ve never seen you here. Your name is Y/n? Or is that just a nickname? Haha.

You: nope, that’s definitely my name! And is your name not a nickname?

Natalia: Definitely not a nickname :)) 

As you spoke with this woman you could feel your heart beating and your body heating up like it was an oven. Since many people do this, you are simply hoping the conversation stays normal. Otherwise, things could go strange. They only pursue nudes, and you're honestly bored of that. You bit on your lower lip as you considered your response, but she slammed it right into you.

Natalia: How old are you? Are you really 20? ;((

You: yeah... heh. and are you really 40?

Natalia: Yup. It's weird, isn’t it?

You: are u looking for a sugar baby lol

You let out a quiet laugh as you waited for her response. 

Natalia: HAH! No, I’m not. I just really want to talk to someone. Is that bad these days? 

You: not really. i’m just a little traumatized by this website. everyone keeps asking me to send nudes. 

Natalia: I understand; sometimes young women ask me to send some too. So I understand how you feel :)

By the way, are you currently studying?

You: yessss! i study at NYU. :DD 

Natalia: Really?! That’s great! You know, when I was in my 20s, I tried to study there, but I lost all interest. It’s good that you still want to study :)))

Where do you live?

Given that you only connected with this woman online, it's best that you remain mum about your exact location; unfortunately, there are many predators in the world today. Even though it pains you deeply to lie to this woman, you couldn't help but chew on your lower lip as you considered telling a lie. Before you could mention that you lived at this new apartment, a thud on the floor interrupted you. With a quick turn of your head, you strode over to the door and opened it.

From over her shoulder, a woman shot you a lifeless stare, and you felt inadequate. You stepped outside and asked, “A-Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Grumbling under her breath, the woman made her way to the staircase. She picked up the paper bag and proclaimed, “Who are you supposed to be?”

You gulped down your saliva and muttered, “I’m new here.”

Turning her head away from you, the mysterious woman—who seemed like the most stunning woman you'd ever seen—muttered something in Russian that you couldn't quite decipher. Her boots thudded loudly as she walked upstairs, shaking her head dismissively. The door slams shut, and your body twitches in response. 

The woman was, in fact, very intimidating.

And strange. 

And mean. 

As you shut the door, you sigh and try to comprehend that the woman might have been going through a difficult time. Steve was spot-on from the start: the second floor is not a good place to be. Reason being, you might get booted out if you indulged your curiosity. You sat back down on the bed and swiftly typed back to Natalia, who was waiting for your response; the once-bustling city of New York was now peaceful. You shut the curtains. Somehow, you wish she had been waiting for you.

You: sorry... some mean neighbor was at my door. Lollll

Natalia: It’s okay :)) It’s late there, darling. Aren’t you supposed to be asleep? 

She referred to you as "darling" and tossed your head back onto the pillow. You struggle to suppress your scream. As you let out a heavy sigh while you mentally resorted to thoughts of Natalia, completely disregarding the brief encounter you had with the unfamiliar woman just moments before. Having an attraction to older women was undeniable; it was just your personality. With a hint of excitement building inside of you, you snatched your laptop from the foot of the bed and began typing away, taking matters into your own hands.

God, you were such a fool.

You: yeah but i have to finish my pizza before i go to bed!

how about you?

Natalia: Can’t. I have work ;(( 

Talk to me tomorrow, okay? I like this conversation that we are having. ;)) 

Even though you were unhappy that she had to leave, you couldn't help but notice that it was getting close to two in the morning. You wanted to stay up all night, so you sigh and type on your keyboard. 

You: okay! :D gnnn x

Natalia: Goodnight, darling. 

Your mind was at peace with Natalia while you slept, which hasn't happened in a long time. What does she look like when you meet her face to face? Was she attractive? Even though you hadn't laid eyes on her face, you were certain that she was. Despite this, you were hoping to ask about sneak peeks so that you could avoid sleepless nights in the future. However, you recalled that you had met an unknown woman on the internet—a self-assured person. You definitely wouldn't cross paths with her in person.

Right?

yes ik a repost eugh

[heartseungs-archive]

dance to this | l.hc

word count: 3.8k | genre: dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers | warnings: none

Donghyuck is an ace. He knows this from the way Taeyong chooses him to be the centre of too many of their performances, and the way too many of his clips have gone viral online.

Donghyuck is annoying. He knows this from the way Doyoung groans in exasperation at every one of his stupid pranks, or when Mark finally loses his patience and shouts across the room at the top of his voice.

But above all of that, Donghyuck is very, very competitive. He doesn’t make it obvious, but the need to win is always simmering beneath the surface, especially for the things that matter. He knows this because you are always there, in his peripheral vision, reminding Donghyuck that he needs to be better than you.

You’re an ace too, even if Donghyuck doesn’t want to admit it. The entirety of the Yonsei male student population is likely in love with you and has posters hung up in their room. You’re also annoying, or at least Donghyuck thinks so. He’s sure the rest of the team would disagree, but you’ve got them wrapped around your finger.

“I’m not partnering with someone who can’t even moonwalk properly,” he bites, and you glare back at him.

“Says the one who tore his jeans at rehearsal last year trying to do a split.”

“That was just because the jeans were too tight. I assure you I am fully capable of doing a split.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see it then. See, you’re hesitating-”

“Guys! For the love of God, can the two of you cut it out? It’s like I’m dealing with two toddlers.” Taeyong stands in front of you and Donghyuck, looking frazzled as always. Next to him is Karina, who simply rolls her eyes. Taeyong is no stranger to you and Donghyuck bickering at all hours of the day, but he’s especially tired with the upcoming recital. For that sole reason, the both of you fall silent like sullen children, looking at him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, and Taeyong smiles gently at you.

“It’s fine. We just really need this performance to go well, okay? And the both of you doing a duet will garner the most attention.”

Donghyuck sends a pointed look to Karina, who nods in assent. He sighs dramatically, enough for you to cast a sharp glance over. The dance studio is empty save for the four of them, everyone else not yet here. “Okay.”

“Me too. I’m in if Donghyuck cooperates,” you reply, and Taeyong breaks out in the most brilliant smile you’ve ever seen, lighting up his entire face.

“What do you mean if I cooperate? You’re literally the most argumentative person I’ve ever met-”

Taeyong's smile quickly disappears.

However, Karina puts a hand on the small of his back, guiding him out of the room, and the door slamming shut cuts Donghyuck’s spiel short. Just before you can send another jab Donghyuck’s way, however, Mark and Jaehyun come in, while Ningning and Giselle follow quickly after.

It’s time for practice, and you suppose there’s another thing Donghyuck can add to the list. That the both of you are professional enough to keep the childish comments outside of your actual work, and you suppose it’s the only reason Karina hasn’t bought duct tape to forcibly mute the both of you yet.

You’re sitting on the floor, out of breath and with a light sheen of sweat on your face when Donghyuck’s performance starts. Well, it’s a team performance, really, but your eyes are always on him. Compared to the majority of his audience, though, your gaze is always assessing, not admiring. His dynamics, control, sharpness, everything. You sear his image into your brain, just to compare it to your own movements in the mirror later.

Still, there’s a fluidity to Donghyuck that you’ve never been able to replicate perfectly, as much as you try. It’s something so distinct to him, the way he moves across the floor like he’s walking on water. It takes your breath away, but you’ll never tell him that. Just like how he’ll never admit that you’re much better than him at capturing details in dances, and the way you do it makes standing out effortless.

The way your sharp eyes follow Donghyuck as he moves seamlessly across the room makes him weirdly determined to make this the best performance yet. Your presence is a source of pressure, but Donghyuck performs well under pressure anyways.

The sky is quickly turning a midnight blue when Taeyong calls an end to the practice, and everyone’s made a temporary home on the wooden floor of the dance studio. It’s a familiar and comforting sight, seeing some of them on their phones, others lying on the couch, or going through their routines in the corner.

This is what makes up Donghyuck’s world. The four walls of the dance studio. Of course, he supposes his degree in Business is one integral part of his life, but it’s so much less exciting for him. Donghyuck derives an enormous amount of exhilaration from every minute, every second that he’s on the stage, spotlight shining.

He’s one of the last to leave, waving to Taeyong and Karina who give him a cursory greeting in return. They work so much harder than the rest of the team to perfect the formations, and Donghyuck’s sure that they’re both bound to get together at some point. He’s never seen two people more similar.

Other than you and him, maybe.

That’s the exact thought running through his head as he strolls past the exit of the building and turns a corner to the familiar alleyway. You’re leaning under a streetlight, phone in hand and earbuds plugged in. Your features are delicate, and the blue glare of the phone reflects off your face.

Besides being annoyingly talented and competitive, Donghyuck is also in love with you.

There was a time when he genuinely disliked you. Three years ago, when he couldn’t understand why someone new was being accepted into the dance team and was sharing the position of centre with him. If he looked back now, the Donghyuck back then would seem so very immature, nothing more than a boy afraid of being replaced.

It took him a while to realise that he didn’t mind. Enjoyed it, actually. The fact that someone else understood the burden of being under the spotlight, the responsibility of heightening the team’s energy and bringing out the very soul of the performance. You were also immensely capable and pushed Donghyuck to do better. Be better.

Somewhere along the line, dislike changed into grudging admiration, to a tentative friendship, and then into butterflies that fluttered wildly in Donghyuck’s stomach every time you looked at him.

And then one night, all it took was a few too many bottles of soju and the empty dance studio for him to take that very final leap. The both of you had stumbled out of the arts faculty building afterwards, tipsy and giggling. It’s still one of Donghyuck’s favourite memories that he has of you, clinging onto him and refusing to go into your dorm building.

There are very few feelings that surpass the pride that Donghyuck feels when he finishes a routine perfectly. However, one of them is the feeling of your lips on his. The other is the way you look when you wake in the morning, eyes half-lidded and hair messy.

And of course, like some cliche trope, the both of you had not yet told the rest of the team of these… not-so-recent developments. And the longer you went, the easier it was to just pretend there was no real need to tell them. After all, it’s not like you and Donghyuck didn’t argue anymore, if not made obvious by the events of the afternoon.  It was just that the bickering was now purely for entertainment, and the both of you acted much sappier to make up for it when no one was watching.

There was a fear that the knowledge would just bewilder most of them, considering the fact that they thought the both of you disliked each other vehemently. Karina also did mention that workplace relationships were strictly not allowed, even though she technically had no right if 1. none of you were on her payroll and 2. she had the biggest crush on Taeyong.

“Hey there,” Donghyuck says, smiling, as he grabs an earbud and places it in his other ear so that he can still hear anything you say clearly.

“Hello. Tired?” You ask as you interlace your fingers with his, but not before casting a quick glance around your surroundings. He shakes his head, and the both of you remain in a comfortable silence until you’re seated comfortably in his car with the heater on at full blast. It’s the middle of winter, and as much as you enjoy the snow, the chill also gets bone-deep. You grab the blanket from its familiar spot in the back of the car, tugging it over your legs.

Donghyuck’s apartment is far enough from campus to not be crowded, but it’s not so isolated that it’s inconvenient. You find yourself spending a lot more time at his apartment these days, so much that you almost have an entire shelf in the closet that stores your clothes.

“You should move in,” he had said one day, after the both of you finished a movie. You definitely wouldn’t mind. After all, living with Donghyuck would be comfortable. He did have a tendency to scatter his clothes all over the room, but he was mostly tidy. He also didn’t mind doing the dishes, and the only real problem you would have would be him singing at the top of his voice at all hours of the day. Even that was more enjoyable than annoying.

“How can I move in if you have the guys over almost every week to game? We’d get found out in no time,” you replied from where you were standing at the fridge, and Donghyuck muttered something like we can just tell them, then, but you were unsure if you had heard him right.

“Did you say something?” You asked, looking at him expectantly. However, Donghyuck didn’t say anything, instead smiling at you, and you tried to hide the disappointment that welled up in you.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Donghyuck’s question jolts you out of your recollections, and you shake your head. His hand is interlocked with yours and rests gently on your lap, even though you’ve told him before that he should try to keep both hands on the wheel. However, the roads are deserted this time of night, so you suppose you’ll let him have his way.

The moment you enter his house, you’re quick to collapse on his couch and close your eyes, but you’re immediately dragged off. “Ouch,” you mutter when you land unceremoniously on the carpet, but Donghyuck just grins. “You need to shower, and so do I. Unless you want to sleep on the couch tonight.”

“The both of us know you would be the one sleeping on the couch anyways,” you retort, and Donghyuck just rolls his eyes before he passes you a towel and extra clothes. His sweatpants, and a band tee that's a little too small on him.

You have five sets of your own clothing folded neatly on the second shelf of his closet on the right. Even then, you take his.

An hour later, you’re scrolling on your phone when Donghyuck comes out of the bathroom, towel round his neck. He’s quick to make his way over to the couch, and you move your phone out of the way before he can accidentally knock it over.

“You big baby,” you scold half-heartedly as he sprawls over you, legs tangled with yours. He hums contentedly from where his face is nestled into your shoulder, and you try not to smile.

“Donghyuck.”

“Hm?” He places a soft kiss on your neck, and your fingers fiddle with his hair. It’s getting longer, you realise, since the last time you cut it for him. It had taken a few too many video tutorials, but you were getting better at it. Not that a bad haircut would ruin Donghyuck’s looks anyways. However, when your first attempt had not been so ideal, he had taken it upon himself to be your personal make-up artist. Your relationship with Donghyuck has always been like that. Push-for-pull. Neither of you is the kind of person to back down, but you suppose that’s what makes being with him so exciting.

“Can you make me ramen?” You can feel it when Donghyuck huffs, and he raises his head to look at you. “Is that all I’m good for? I feel like I’m a personal chef instead of your boyfriend.”

You nod, making your expression as serious and earnest as possible. Still, he gives in and gets up, making his way over to the kitchen. You’re quick to follow him, however, grabbing everything he needs. It’s a routine at this point. You’re in charge of ingredients, Donghyuck overseeing cooking.

You grab a vinyl from the tall shelf next to the television, placing it gently into the gramophone. This is one of Donghyuck’s favourite records, and you find yourself humming to it as well as the music filters gently out. You remember his expression of awe when he had opened your present on his birthday.

“Y/N, you didn’t.”

“I did. You can’t possibly have that many records and no gramophone to play them.”

“But this is so expensive.”

“It was just a bunch of extra shifts at the cafe,” had been your nonchalant reply, and Donghyuck’s eyes were soft when he looked up at you, almost glistening. The both of you were seated on the floor, the cake half-eaten on Donghyuck's table that both functioned as a study area and a place to eat.

“Thank you, Y/N. But,” Donghyuck leans over, until he’s barely centimetres from you. His lips are next to your ear, and you can hear your breath hitch.

“I’ll get you an even better present next year. You know me. I can’t lose.” His grin is full of mirth now, and you scoff.

“Even for this?”

“Even for this.”

“It’s still in such good condition,” you mumble to yourself as your fingers brush over the lacquered wood.

“Of course it is. You gave it to me.” You didn’t realize Donghyuck had heard you, but his comment causes your heartbeat to speed up just slightly. The pot is simmering gently on the stove, and Donghyuck turns to look at you. Here, away from the glaring fluorescent lights of the studio, is your favourite version of Donghyuck. Not the dance team’s ace, the mini campus celebrity, but your Donghyuck.

Of course, you love the other versions of him too. But this, the Donghyuck standing under his kitchen lights with grey sweatpants and messy hair, is a sight that belongs to you and you only. And god forbid that he's not the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen in your life.

You make your way over to him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Donghyuck isn’t that much taller than you, but in close proximity, he still cranes his neck down to meet your gaze directly. His arms wrap around your waist instinctively, and you can feel the warmth that radiates from his palms through the thin shirt you’re wearing.

“What’s with the sudden affection?” He asks, and you lean into his chest, eyes closed. “Nothing. I just like you. A lot.” The way his chest rumbles slightly tells you that he’s trying to hide a chuckle, but you know Donghyuck enjoys the sweet words, even if he teases you about it.

“Dance with me.” It’s an odd request, considering the both of you are tired out from practice, but you nod, and Donghyuck smiles.

“Wait, but the music. Shouldn’t we change it?”

“No, it’s fine. We can just dance to this.”

Donghyuck pulls you away from the stove and nearer to the couch, where there’s open space. It’s less dancing, and more of a poorly-imitated ballroom waltz. The both of you had only taken one waltz lesson during the team's annual retreat, when Taeyong had thought it a good idea to ‘diversify genres’. However, after Jaehyun had narrowly avoided crashing into a glass display and Chenle caused the team to receive a noise complaint, you suppose Taeyong had scrapped any further ideas of forcing everyone to take mandatory lessons.

It was memorable to you for an entirely different reason, however. It was the first time you began to see Donghyuck in a different light, being forced to partner with him for all three days. The both of you had quickly resolved to outdo everyone else, kickstarting a temporary truce which spiralled to well…this.

Donghyuck’s arms gently circle around your waist as the both of you take light footsteps from one end of the living room to the other. You’ve always found it easy to sync with him, and you’re guessing it just boils down to natural chemistry. That, and the fact that you’re so familiar with the way Donghyuck moves from watching him dance day in and day out.

There was a fascination with university that everyone else had, that you often failed to grasp. It had just seemed like a natural progression, rather than a hard-earned escape to a utopian place where you were an adult free to do what you wanted. The past three years had been some of the best in your life, mainly owing to the fact that you had a major you enjoyed and a dance team that simultaneously functioned as your closest group of friends.

You realise that Donghyuck has been present for its entirety. He had been there when you were accepted to the dance team, and then made centre alongside him a year later. He had been there when you did your first showcase and solo act, running down from the stage breathless afterwards. When you got your first injury, he was the one who told Taeyong for you, and convinced him that you could still fill the role with enough rest. Donghyuck was the one who found you crying in the studio when you got a failing grade on one of your exams, and who sat with you silently until your eyes were no longer red.

There’s only one year until you graduate, but Donghyuck’s presence in your life is as constant as the air you need to breathe.

It was easy to say farewell to your friends from high school, with an easy promise to maintain contact. But it’s so very different with Donghyuck, who fills up every crevice of your life effortlessly with his little habits.

You had wondered if you had fallen too fast for Donghyuck. After all, the change from rivals to friends to romantic feelings had been alarming, because you could rarely think straight when it came to him. Yet, looking at him now, you’re convinced that you want to spend as much time with Donghyuck as possible, before the worries of adulthood start creeping in.

Call it young ambition, but something about Donghyuck just makes you want to take chances. To let loose and live a little easier. Maybe it’s because he’s able to make you happy with the simplest things, and he’s so easy to love. Which is why you suppose you can finally make a decision, even though your heart has probably been silently waiting to say yes.

“If I move in, I want counter space. And also half of the closet space. And you have to promise to not scatter your clothes around our room,” you say, so abruptly that Donghyuck stops moving entirely, and you have to pause to prevent yourself from tripping over his feet. He bends down, until he’s eye level with you. His eyes are hopeful, questioning, as if he’s not entirely believing of what you’re implying.

“You’re not kidding, right?” It’s so easy for a smile to make its way onto your face, as you shake your head and Donghyuck’s grip on your waist gets a little bit tighter.

“You’ll get all the counter space you want. I’ll even let you bring your stupid potted plants.” Your nose scrunches at his remark, and Donghyuck has to stop himself from cooing at your expression.

“For the record, I think my potted plants are adorable. And once I bring them here, they’ll be yours too. So don’t speak of our potted plants that way.”

Ours. Donghyuck thinks he likes the sound of that.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

A week later, you’re standing outside the dance studio with Donghyuck, when you grab his hand. He looks down sharply at you, mouthing a ‘what?’, and then angling his chin urgently back in the direction of the studio. However, you just flash a grin at him. “Open the door, Donghyuck. We’re already late.” He narrows his eyes, but the playful grin tugging on his mouth shows that he already understands what you’re aiming at.

When the both of you walk in, there’s a mixed range of reactions. There’s Jisung and Shotaro, whose mouths are wide open. Doyoung and Mark’s eyebrows are raised, but they don’t show any other expression. Ningning, Renjun and Chenle are in a corner, knowing smiles on their faces. Taeyong and Karina just look like they’ve always known, and are honestly more miffed at the lack of punctuality from the both of you.

“I think Karina’s going to kill us for breaking her no relationships rule,” Donghyuck mutters worriedly in your ear.

“If you forget, I’m her favourite child. I think she’s more likely to murder you for getting with me,” you respond sweetly, and Donghyuck simply stares, speechless, as you let go and walk over to where Giselle and Winter are warming up. He scoffs, shaking his head, and walks over to Jaemin and Jeno, who are already ready to tease him for being a lovesick fool.

The four walls of the dance studio make up so much of Donghyuck’s life, but so do you.

[bunnwich]

It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them. 

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun. 

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst: 

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed: 

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it?  I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.  

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

[kazumist]

Hi its my first time requesting so idk if im doing this right, after i saw that s fire is issuing a pre order for a hoshina figure, and that figure made him look absolutely stunning, his biceps,abs, thighs, the lines are just impeccable, so i would like to request hoshina x fem!reader, they are a couple and the reader bought the figure and was unpacking it, then hoshina saw it… what would be his reaction??? I really love your writing btw and it would be cool if the reader just loves buying hoshina’s merch, thankyou !

✩ — includes: hoshina x f!reader (but no fem terms actually used uh). fluff. cw: cutter mentioned (reader opens up a package). wc: 512. reblogs and feedback are much appreciated !!

✩ — note: took me a bit of a while sorry TT but here you go!!

hoshina didn’t expect anything when he opened the door and received the package that the delivery man gave him.

“love, did my delivery arrive yet?” you asked him, calling him out from the kitchen since you were busy preparing lunch. it was your turn today—soshiro’s turn to cook would be tomorrow. “oh, this was yours?” he says, entering the kitchen area.

with a playful eyeroll, you washed your hands and went to see the package. the food was still busy cooking by itself so it’s safe to leave it for a moment. “who else would it be, silly?” you said, grabbing a cutter to open it up. hoshina would be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious. he wonders what piqued your interest this time since it’s been a while since you last ordered something online.

he had a few options—it could be something funny that you just wanted to try. or perhaps something useful that will help with your current lifestyle. it could be anything, really. but hoshina stared blankly when you opened the box.

soshiro never expected for you to buy a figurine of him of all things.

“oh my god, it looks perfect!” you squealed, completely forgetting about the man beside you. he looks at you and the figurine back and forth, trying to comprehend the fact that you actually did get a figurine of him. it was like those superhero figurines that you’d see in toy stores—something that parents would buy for their kids.

and soshiro would be lying if he said that this doesn’t make him sulk, even just a little bit.

“eh? is that me?” he asks dumbfoundedly.

you didn’t hear him at first; he was too excited to open and let the figurine out of the box. “hm? oh, yeah! it’s you, it looks so good, right?” you asked him, carefully pulling out the figurine now. he could feel a small vein on his head, but he took a deep breath to keep his composure. you looked so happy right now; why would he ruin it? 

but he didn’t really expect that you’d buy it. especially when you actually have him by your side.

hoshina goes behind you and gives you a backhug as he rests his chin on your shoulder, peering over to inspect the figurine more. “it looks real nice, but i didn’t expect you to buy something like this,” he says a bit lazily. “why? it’s you.” you turned your head to look at him with a pout.

“that’s exactly it. it’s me, and i’m right here.” he replies with a pout as well. you deadpan at him, “don’t tell me you’re jealous of a literal figurine of yourself, soshiro.”

“so what? i don’t see why you have to buy this little thing when you have the real deal right here.”

“oh, you mean the real deal that has his arms wrapped around me right now?” you giggle.

“is there any other man that goes by hoshina soshiro in this world? get rid of it.”

“you’re so petty—and no, i won’t!”

[nochukoo97]

when you get into an argument

main work | masterlist

pairing: boxer!jungkook x boxer!reader

wc: 1.5k+

“You’re in a match against who?” An exasperated gasp leaves your mouth upon hearing the name of a particular person.

“Eunwoo,” Jungkook leans forward to put down his cup, before facing you on the couch, “Got set up with him again,”

“He’s going to be harder on you considering you beat him in the last match though,” You mutter, voice quieting down as you notice Jungkook frowning at you.

“Are you doubting me?” He hums, not breaking eye contact as you shake your head, stretching out your legs to lay them on his lap.

His hands automatically stroke over the soft skin of your legs, noticing you were a little colder than usual, so he reaches for the blanket laid on the couch and covers your legs.

“No,” You tell him honestly, you’ve never doubted Jungkook’s strength once, “I’m just saying he could poke you in the wrong way-”

“I’ll be fine, ___,” He sighs, cutting you off abruptly as you now frown at him, feeling the tensions rising already.

“Okay,” You hum, shrugging as you curl your legs against your body, removing the weight that once was on your boyfriend’s lap.

“I won’t do anything bad, I promise,” He tells you softly now, sensing you were still unsure about this whole thing. To be fair, Jungkook only wanted another match with Eunwoo to prove once again that he could beat the guy, since Eunwoo had been constantly asking for a rematch, claiming he would take Jungkook down. Who was he to not accept the offer?

“But you know what almost happened last time,” You sigh, leaning your head back onto the arm rest of the couch as you stretch.

“I’m not a kid, I can handle him fine,” His voice grows with frustration, maybe even a hint of annoyance, “Anyways I’ll win him this time again, it doesn’t matter what he says, I know my strengths,”

“I didn’t say you were being a kid, I meant that you know too how Eunwoo can be,” You wince slightly thinking about the guy, “He knows how to annoy his opponents through words and won’t back down,”

“I know him, he’s my opponent, I’ve played against him for years now, so I don’t know why you’re the one telling me about him,” Jungkook’s voice raises ever so slightly, as you simply nod, deciding it was better to not say anything further, the tension in the room had been already so suffocating, you didn’t want to fight with your boyfriend.

“___, you know what I mean,” He sighs, his voice slightly softer this time, but you don’t give him much of a reply.

Jungkook only gets another hum from you as he watches you open up your book, diverting your attention away from him.

-

“You got everything?” You call out from the kitchen, quickly packing up a small lunch for Jungkook to take with him.

“Yeah, thanks baby,” He shuffles into the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as you hand him the lunchbox, patting his shoulder.

You couldn’t attend his match since you had an online lecture to attend, juggling school and boxing was definitely not an easy task, but you somehow managed to get through everyday fine.

Your unresolved conflict was still in the back of your mind, his too. You weren’t going to lie, you could still feel the tension from him, the way he only pecked your forehead instead of giving you a proper kiss, the way he didn’t hug you this morning, instead mumbling a quick “morning,”.

Your heart aches a little as you watch him walk out the door, maybe you shouldn’t have expected him to walk back to you to give you a proper goodbye, his goodluck kiss before a match.

-

You should be laughing right now at how predictable the outcome was. Here you are, on the phone with Jungkook’s manager as you quickly gather up your stuff, grabbing your car keys as you head out the door.

“___, I swear you have to pick him up right now,”

“Exactly what did he do?” Your panting, from running all over the house trying to fetch your belongings before running to your car.

“I’m not sure, they broke out in a fight in the preparation room, no one was there until I walked in, but he definitely has a scratch on his face,” You hear his manager sigh over the phone, probably expecting this to happen as well.

“I’m on my way, I gotta hang up now,” You press the end call button and start your car, trying your best to keep within the speed limit as you rush over.

-

When you open the door that has Jungkook’s name labeled on it, you’re met with him sitting on the couch and staring at his shoes, as if he knew you were coming.

“Pack up your things,” Your voice is monotonous as you tell him, not walking further into the room as you stand at the doorway, watching as he scrambles to pick up his bag and gloves.

You seriously don’t want to be mad at him, not after his fight got called off, meaning that he would have lost a ton of money betting on him. But the fact that the both of you had gotten into an argument about this happening, it just fueled your frustrations further, not to mention the fact that you may get a very upset email from your lecturer later for suddenly leaving the online class.

The walk to the car is silent, too silent for Jungkook’s liking. To be fair, it was his fault for walking on thin ice with Eunwoo, maybe he did throw in an insult or two, but he definitely did not expect Eunwoo to throw in a punch after calling the guy weak.

You get in the driver’s seat of the car, not bothering to glance at your boyfriend once as he sits in the passenger seat, head tilted towards you, waiting for your next move.

“Are you mad?” Jungkook breaks the silence first. It’s almost insane how wobbly and quiet his voice has gotten, considering it’s the same man who does boxing for a living.

A scoff leaves your mouth as you turn to him, clearly upset that you had to leave mid-lecture to pick your boyfriend up, for what? For punching his opponent because of their long rivalry with each other.

“You think? I told you already, it wasn’t a good idea, and you told me you wouldn’t do anything!” Your voice raises slightly as you cross your arms, waiting for his reply.

“I didn’t start it, he hit me first,” Jungkook tells you, his tone suggesting he had not fully understood why you were so upset right now.

“Jungkook,” You deadpan, he winces at the lack of a pet name. “You don’t get it? Even if he hits you, you don’t hit back! You’re not in the ring for goodness sake, if word goes out that you retaliated back at him, do you even know how much risk your career would be at?”

He lowers his head, keeping silent. You were right, he knew you were upset for a valid reason.

“I know it’s hard not to retaliate back, but it’s the one thing you need to do, to not punch the guy back! It just goes to show that the both of you aren’t thinking straight, I thought at least you would be sensible enough not to retaliate,” You sigh, starting the car without waiting for his reply.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything, only stares out the window as the both of you drive home in silence. His heart ached a little at your harsh yet true words, all he could do was sit in regret and hope that you would not stay mad at him for long.

-

When you pull into the car park and park the car, Jungkook waits for you to say something. The silence is killing him. But you simply grab your bag and shut the car door, not waiting for him to get out.

He flinches slightly at the car door shutting a little louder than usual, watching as you walk towards the lift lobby of your shared apartment, he quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and rushes to catch up.

“I’m really sorry,” He whispers, slightly glossy eyes staring straight at you, but you don’t look back at him.

“You don’t need to be sorry to me Jungkook, I just warned you about this happening and you insisted it won’t, yet here we are,” You huff, walking out the lift as it opens.

Fuck, he messed up big time. Jungkook wants to turn back time, to maybe have listened to you carefully and not say such harsh words when this was where he ended up. He had never seen you so mad before, so mad at him, to be specific.

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what to say. He watches as you walk into the kitchen to reheat tonight’s dinner, but his heart pounds in his chest, his heart aches as he watches you grow in frustration when the microwave’s buttons falter. Jungkook is dying to help you, but he’s afraid, afraid that you’re too mad at him to even be around him.

taglist: @sparklingocean @idkjustlovingbts @moonstar127 @babybella337 @ane102 @synnfulqt

[withwritersblock]

because i liked a boy

~because i liked a boy by Sabrina Carpenter~

Author's Note: requested! Summary: Y/N gets a lot of hate online and Nico comforts her Warnings: brief discription of hurtful language Word Count: 1,893 Nico Hischier x fm!reader

Nico and Y/N have been together for nearly a year and their relationship has remained offline for most of it. Despite both of them being in the spotlight at different levels. Nico was the captain of the New Jersey Devils while Y/N had a huge TikTok following. 

She spent a lot of her videos focusing on makeup and different trends. Today, she decided to film a get ready with me, dedicated to going to Nico’s home opener. For the last two seconds of the video, she showed herself in the mirror posing beside Nico.

It didn’t cross her mind that his fans would find the video as fast as they did. The entire comment section was berating her appearance and talking about how she doesn’t deserve him. Usually, she ignores a lot of the hate that she gets, but something about how even her own fans were switching up on her. 

The entire third period was still left as the boys were just now starting the period. She kept her gaze on her phone, scrolling the comments. Many of them were talking about how she is too ugly to be with. While others were saying that she was too full of herself to be with him. 

Reanne tapped her hand against Y/N’s forearm. Y/N lifted her gaze towards Reanne and forced a smile to her lips. “Are you okay?” she asked. Y/N nodded as she tilted her head back to the comments, she began to scroll through them again. Even clicking on each reply.

“Showed my followers Nico today,” she said, nonchalantly. She lifted her gaze towards the TV screen to watch the game get going. Reanne pouted slightly, “Did not go as well as I expected. I mean only people who follow hockey would’ve known it was him,” Y/N explained as she turned her phone screen off. 

“What are they saying?” Reanne asked as she ran her hand up and down Y/N’s arm reassuringly. 

“Just the usual stuff, commenting on my appearance and my personality. Saying that they know I’m not good enough for Nico; or I’m too full of myself to be with him,”

“Oh that’s bullshit,” Reanne reassured, “People on the Internet think they know the boys but they don’t,” she continued. 

Y/N nodded politely, listening to what she had to say but not truly letting the words sink in. 

The game ended with a win for the team. It was exciting and a hopeful start for the rest of the season. She waited in the suite for a while, as she was avoiding Nico. She knew she would have to put on a front for him, but it was hard as she was starting to spiral.

Each comment, all six hundred of them were starting to repeat in her mind on a loop. It was becoming impossible. The hard part was the fact that her supposed loyal followers were even saying awful things about her. 

She was the last one to leave the suite as she wandered the empty halls of the arena, waiting for Nico to tell her he was ready to head towards the car. Every home game she would roam around until he was ready to head. Being captain held a lot of media responsibilities compared to the other players.

Nico Boy: Come to the locker room darling

She smiled at the text as she began walking towards the locker room. For a brief second, for only a moment she forgot. She forgot about all of the awful things the comments were saying. All she knew was that she was heading to the love of her life. The light in her life, the one person who could truly help her in this moment.

After a handful of minutes she walked towards the locker room, seeing Nico standing outside of it. He lifted his gaze from his phone as he smiled widely. He was giddy as he walked towards her, widening his arms. She giggled as she wrapped her arms around the center of his back, He tightly wrapped his arms around her. 

He took a hold of the back of her head. She melted into his chest, suddenly getting teary eyed feeling his touch. “New tradition, right here,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. 

She reluctantly pulled away, dropping her gaze. She blinked rapidly as she fought the tears forming in her eyes. He clenched his jaw as he furrowed his eyebrows, “Hey, why are you crying?” he asked as he rested his hands onto her hips. 

“No, no not crying, I promise,” she said smiling, her eyes instantly drying up, “Come on, let’s get home,” she said as she looped her arm around his as she began guiding him towards his car.

She was silent for the whole drive home, which was odd. She normally would be singing along to whatever song Nico was playing. He kept the music loud, not wanting to ask her any questions as she was definitely not feeling great. Instead he kept his hand on her thigh, rubbing his thumb in small circles.

He pulled into his parking spot inside the parking garage of his apartment. He quickly put the car in park and turned his body to the side. “Are you okay?” he asked as he tucked his knee towards his chest, “Don’t lie,” he said as he tapped his hand against her leg. 

She tilted her head to the side as she clenched her jaw. “Nico, I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled as she unbuckled her seatbelt. 

“My love, you’re sad,” he let out. A drawn out sigh left her throat as she tilted her head to the side to meet his gaze. She scanned his features, his eyes were squinted slightly as his lips were pouted. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said as she climbed out of the car. She shut the door and began walking towards the elevator. He clenched his jaw as he quickly followed her out of the car. 

He jogged after her, shocked at how fast she was able to get across the parking garage. “Y/N,” he let out as he reached beside her. She stopped short as she turned and met his gaze, she was crying now. “My love,” he let out sadly as he quickly wrapped his arms around her. She tightened her grip around his chest as she sobbed into his chest. “Upstairs, yeah?” he asked as he ran his hand up and down her back.

She nodded as she pulled away from his grasp, walking ahead of him towards the elevator. He let her keep the lead, walking behind her. He felt his heart ache in his chest. He was aware that he obviously didn’t do anything but still felt like he harmed her. 

Once they reached the elevator, it opened instantly as she pressed the button. They stepped inside, side by side. He loosely wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her to his side. She rested her head onto his shoulder as she took in a deep breath. 

After a few seconds they walked down the hall towards Nico’s apartment, where they practically live together. He unlocked the door and opened it as he quickly stepped inside, she followed behind. 

He spun around, hugging her tightly once more. “It’s stupid,” she muttered. He shook his head as he continued to run his hand up and down her back. 

After a few seconds she pulled away, dug into her pocket. She fished her phone out and pulled up the video on TikTok. “The comments,” she mumbled as she handed him the phone. She walked away towards the bedroom as she took a deep breath. 

He stood still in the entryway, reading the different comments. His body was fueling with anger only after a few comments. Utterly shocked to see that anyone could say anything bad about his beautiful girlfriend. 

Comment: ugh he’s way too good to be dating her, has he actually looked at her?

He read that comment multiple times, shocked to even think that anyone could think that. Especially someone who doesn’t even know who he is. She is the most perfect person in the world, the most gorgeous girl, she was everything to him. 

He went to the settings on her account and turned off all of the comments. Even on her other videos. Right now, she doesn't need to see any of the content.

He took a sharp breath as he walked towards the bedroom.She was already in her pajamas and curled up into bed, her makeup still on her face. She rolled onto her side, curling the blanket up to her chin.

 He tilted his head to the side as he took his suit jacket off of his frame, tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the room. He began to unbutton his shirt and slide his pants off of his body. He slipped into the closet as he pulled up a pair of sweats onto his frame. He walked towards the bed. He climbed under the blanket and quickly cuddled up against her body.

He looped his hand around her stomach, he ran his hand up her shirt. Reassuringly running his hand along her skin. He pulled her towards him, pressing his lips against her shoulder for a few seconds.

“You know they are just jealous,” he whispered into her ear, “You are so beautiful,” he mumbled. She squinted her eyes shut as she held her breath for a few seconds. “There is nothing that anyone on the Internet could say that could make me not love you or make me think you are not the most gorgeous girl in the world,” he whispered. 

“I know,” she let out, her voice rasped as she spoke. “It was just overwhelming,” she mumbled.

“I know, my love,” he whispered before he pressed his lips to her shoulder, “Take a few days off, spend time with me,” he whispered as she rolled her body over, facing him. “I turned the comments off,” he said. Her eyes widened.

“Nico,” she scolded.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“Then they’ll know it bugged me! That’s like the worst thing you could’ve done,” she let out, tilting her head back. Her eyes started tearing up again. He pressed his lips together as he scanned her features. He raised his hand up as he rested his hand on her cheek.

“What they think of you doesn’t matter. What you think of you matters,” he let out, rubbing his thumb across her skin so delicately. “The words they are saying are hurting you, my love, you don’t need to read those things,” he reassured. She clenched her jaw as she shut her eyes, a tear streamed down her cheek. He wiped it away. 

She smiled softly towards him. “Make a video about it, be transparent, it could help,” he explained. She nodded as she rested her hand onto his forearm.

“Okay,” she let out as he scanned her features.

“I love you,” he let out.

“I love you too,” she whispered as he leaned down and kissed her softly. He pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. 

“It’ll be okay,” he mumbled before he kissed her again.

[bucketslutz]

Don't Be Late (Professer Logan Howlett/Fem Student Mutant Reader)

Chapter Summary: Logan's behavior continues to intrigue you as you begin to struggle to hide your feelings towards him.

A/N: I've never churned out a chapter so fast before. i'm having a lot of fun writing this!

Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI!!, unprotected p in v, dirty talking, logan talks you through it lowk, grinding, swearing, no use of Y/N, pet names for reader tho🤭

Word Count: 4,040

Chapter 2

The door to the classroom creaks open loudly causing you to turn your head abruptly from your notebook, finding Logan staring at you incredulously. Adamant to not repeat the same mistake as you did Monday, you arrived at class 15 minutes early this morning. You smile awkwardly and look back to your notes, trying not to pay him any mind, despite that familiar swirl deep in your stomach telling you to jump him right then and there.

“Early bird today huh, bub?” Logan chides, his sudden display of humor surprising you. You chuckle, unsure of how to respond.

“Yeah, getting used to that commute, Monday I was too late, today I’m too early, what can ‘ya do?” you reply, laughing lightly, not to Logan’s amusement, however, who glares at you like a horn protruded from your skull as he settles himself at the head of the classroom. You clear your throat and go back to your notes. So, he’s funny, but he doesn’t like small talk, got it. You think to yourself, becoming even more confused by his demeanor. You couldn’t find anything about him online last night, not a social media post, no articles, no information about his credentials besides a flimsy description on the school’s website that describes him as having a “masters degree in the history of american wars,” whatever that means. It doesn’t say where his degree is from either. Everything about this man is clouded in obscurity.

You jump slightly when Logan slams a piece of paper in front of you. Glancing upwards, attempting to meet his gaze, you’re confused to see he’s already turned away from you and walking to the front of the room. You look down at the paper to see it’s the attendance sheet, your name already has a check mark next to it. Before you can even mutter a thanks, people have already started to file into class and you swallow any more potential verbiage that may escape your mouth, not wanting anyone to perceive you.

…

“Professor Howlett, I’m not quite sure I understand,” a brunette in the front row pouts, “Could I see you after class?” she asks suggestively, flicking her hair and resting her pencil between her lips. Her attempt to subtly gain Logan’s attention almost makes you laugh.

“It’s Logan. And no,” he snaps, not breaking his focus from the dates he’s writing on the board. The girl scoffs in surprise and sits back in her chair in defeat, looking at her friends on her right and left like she couldn’t believe he would rebuff her like that. It’s not lost on you now that Logan is very attractive, at least, you’re not the only person who finds him attractive; maybe not the only person who has had a lewd wet dream about him either. Why that girl would attempt to be so bold is beyond you, seeing as Logan is so goddamn terrifying. Just one look from him makes you want to crawl into a shell and never come out again.

“Friday’s essay—I want you to write about independence,” Logan asserts, leaning against the whiteboard and nonchalantly crossing his arms. The room is quiet, some people even looking around for clarification, yourself included. The brunette in the front row raises her hand causing Logan to roll his eyes and nod in her direction, affirming her request.

“I’m sorry, like, do you mean what independence means? Or how it played a part in the revolutionary war? Or, like, what it means to maybe fight for it in the modern era?” she asks carefully, not wanting him to snap at her again. Logan considers her for a moment.

“Yeah, sure,” he concedes with a shrug of his shoulders. There’s still an air of confusion hanging in the room. You’re struggling to understand how this man made it past a vetting process to secure his position in the first place. Logan looks at his watch, sighing in relief. “That’s all I’ve got. See ‘ya Monday.”

Logan wastes no time in collecting his coat and briefcase and rushing out of the classroom. Everyone pauses, sharing glances of bewilderment. You avoid eye contact with others, opting to just quietly collect your things and depart with the one or two stragglers who’ve made the same choice you did.

…

It’s painfully slow at the store. You had hoped there was inventory that needed to be stocked, or a shipment, or cleaning, a robbery even. But there’s no action here. The only customers being two teenagers who bought candy and soda after school, an old man and a case of beer, and an old lady with a pack of smokes. That’s it. That’s all you’ve seen for the past 5 hours. The free time at least allows you to work on Logan’s essay for Friday. The vague topic gave you quite a bit of room to work, it’s a good thing you have a lot to say or else you would’ve had a much harder time working on this. The store’s door opens with a jingle, the bells hanging by the hinge shaking, the sound draws your attention.

You’re surprised to see Logan entering, broad shoulders tucked into a brown leather jacket. He scans the store and eventually makes eye contact with you. Your breath hitches when you notice the chest hair peaking out from beneath his wife beater, the tank top revealing slightly more of his chiseled physique than you’re used to seeing. You involuntarily clench at the thought of what he might look like without that tank top on…No. You shake the thought from your head, trying to keep your composure despite your growing arousal towards your professor; an arousal that only started from that damned wet dream.

Boots click against the linoleum tile towards the register you’re situated behind. Logan slams a case of Budweiser onto the counter as he rifles through his wallet for cash. You quietly ring him up.

“Get me two Arturos,” he instructs, rather impolitely. You look at him, he doesn’t even attempt to make eye contact. You decide to make a little joke, seeing as he was feeling so humorous this morning.

“What’s the magic word?” you coo, teasingly, through a friendly smile. Logan finally looks up at you through slightly raised brows.

“Go fuck yourself.” Logan was not in a teasing mood.

You purse your lips in embarrassment and defeat as you retrieve two Arturo cigars from behind you. With a sigh, you ring him up and tell him his total. He pays in cash. As you’re loading the bills into the register, Logan hesitates before leaving.

“What’re you doing working this far out of town? Aren’t there better stores to work at closer to campus?” he questions. You try to hide your surprise at his inquiry before answering.

“Oh, uh, I don’t live too far from here. It’s an easier commute when I’m not taking classes,” you answered, trying to be as matter of fact as you can possibly be. Logan chuckles.

“No offense, but how can you afford a place over here? Who the hell died and left you their place?” he asks, resting a hand on his hip. You swallow hard, not wanting to draw too much attention to the peculiarity of your living arrangement. Houses over here are expensive, there’s only farmland on acreage that can be worth millions. But sometimes a plot of land can be cheaper than a whole house, and a whole house is something that you can manage to manifest with your powers by consuming around 25,000 calories a day. You offer Logan the same answer you’ve prepared for anyone else who might question you this way.

“I used to rent here until my landlord passed away and left me the property. I’m just lucky, I guess,” you explained with a shrug of your shoulders, trying to hide your nerves. You tug at the hem of your polo, hoping that’s the last of his line of questioning. Logan just offers a simple nod of understanding, before turning around and heading towards the door.

“What about you?” you blurt out, shocking yourself with your own abruptness and sudden want to continue the conversation. Logan turns on his heel and stares at you in confusion.

“Whaddya mean?” he asks, narrowing his hazel eyes.

“I mean, it’s just such a hike from campus, I was just—I mean it’s a fair question. You asked me, I ask you, you know?” you explained clumsily, hoping he at least understood a quarter of what you were trying to say. He looks down at the floor and chuckles with a shake of his head.

“I do live around here, if that’s what you’re asking.” He turns on his heel and starts towards the door. “See ‘ya Friday.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, and you try not to watch his ass, framed by those tight, worn jeans, as he exits the store. Unsure if the feeling in your chest is caused by anxiety, or how you secretly want to bang your professor, you clear your throat in an attempt to bring your mind back down to planet earth.

Despite your own constant correction and policing of your mind, you can’t help but drift away; reminiscing in the way Dream Logan devoured your pussy like no one else ever has. The way he roughly grabbed and pawed at you, pleasuring you in a desperate, animalistic way. Why your subconscious brewed up this intoxicating cocktail, is beyond you. You’ve never been with someone who’s fucked you the way Logan did in your dream, nor have you ever watched any porn that portrays a man acting that way towards someone. No matter what you tell yourself, it felt so inexplicably real. You’re starting to believe that the way Logan acted in your subconscious was strangely true to how he really does act in real life. But no matter, you have an essay to write, for a class you cannot figure out whether or not it's happening on Friday due to Logan’s own vagueness and potential misspeaking.

By the time you finally get home from work, you have maybe a page and a half written of your essay. In an attempt to be as prepared as possible, you decide to finish your work tonight so you can proofread and edit throughout the day tomorrow. But you’re struggling to keep your eyes open at your desk. It’s 1:30 in the morning, and you have a class at 9 am, but you don’t want to pull an all-nighter tomorrow just to work on this stupid essay. It’s getting increasingly more and more difficult to focus. Your bed, just a few feet behind you, beckons to you. It’s so, so tempting. Maybe resting my eyes for just a few minutes wouldn’t hurt, you think to yourself, wanting to give in to your exhaustion so desperately. You lay your head back against your chair and close your eyes. Oh, this feels so good.

So, so good.

Your eyes, half slit, peek open to see a broad chest; you're barely awake as an arm hooks under your legs and behind your back and cradles you before lifting you up against the strong, firm chest. You hum gently, turning into the man’s touch and getting comfortable. You feel yourself being lowered down onto your bed and tucked in under your comforter gently before the bed dips behind you as you’re joined in comfort by the man that tucked you in so tenderly. His arms wrap around you and he pulls your back flush against his chest, meeting the curve of his pelvis with the protrusion of your ass. He’s so warm and firm against your back, cocooning you in an embrace so gentle that it almost makes you want to wake up and fuck him.

You sigh in contentment, circling your ass ever so gently against his crotch, hoping to feel a firm indication of arousal through the boxers of the man behind you. A rough groan emanates from behind you as the pair of arms draped around your waist tighten slightly. His breath is hot against your neck, his scratchy beard tickling you.

His hands move up your stomach and to your chest where he palms your breasts languidly. The grip on your tits causes you to arch your back into his crotch, finally feeling the stiff outline of his cock against your ass. You smile and hum as he trails kisses up and down your neck, biting the flesh there gently.

“Not so tired now, huh, baby?” Logan’s voice rasps from behind you, causing you to gasp quietly. He’s here.

“You’re hard to resist,” you purr, an inexplicable truth bleeding through your words. You turn your torso, facing him, “I missed you.”

Your fingers raise to run over the patch of stubble on his chin that’s nestled between his mutton chops. His eyes look hungry, desperate. His hands, still fixed on your breasts, now lazily stroke them through your shirt.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, his mouth turned upward into a cocky grin. You nod in response. He places a gentle kiss to your lips, chastely.

“You know, I missed you too,” he whispers against your lips. He kisses you again.

“Yeah?” you ask flirtatiously, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip as he continues to kiss you repeatedly, gingerly making contact each time.

“Why don’t you show me how badly you missed me big guy?” you challenge against Logan's lips, your voice dripping in a seductive tone. He smiles against your lips before shoving you roughly onto your back, situating himself between your legs. One hand moves to your waist, the other pressed against the wall above your head to support his weight.

“I’ll do just that, princess,” his gravelly voice beckons to you from above, his breath fanning your face. A flirtatious smile spreads across your face, causing Logan to waste no time in capturing your lips with his. Unlike last time when you were pinned on his couch, this kiss is sensual and tender. His tongue dances with yours carefully, creating a specific pace with the move of his lips. You follow suit, matching his rhythm, allowing your hands to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. His hips grind down into yours, the two of you moaning into the kiss at the sudden friction. Logan’s hand moves down your waist and under your shirt, traveling up to your bare breast. His thumb circles your nipple softly as his hands knead your tender flesh. You arch your back into his touch, humming in contentment against the kiss.

You could be here for hours, Logan palming at your breasts, his stiff cock grinding against your pussy, the rhythmic swipe of his tongue between each expert kiss to your lips. You’re putty under him. Needing to feel more of him, you snake your hands down his back, and slip them under the hem of his wife beater. You hike the hem up his torso, incapable of moving it much further. Logan breaks the kiss and sits up before he pulls the tank the rest of the way off his body and over his head, revealing his bare torso to you. He’s unbelievably toned, chiseled like he was made by the gods. The veins in his chest and arms bulge with each breath he takes. You bite your bottom lip as you take him in, your fingers creeping up his abs, eventually sliding up his chest to stroke it tenderly. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at Logan seductively.

“Come here, baby,” Logan growls, snaking an arm around your waist before hoisting you up onto him. Your legs wrap around his waist as he spins the two of you around so his back is against the headboard and you’re straddling him. You can feel the full length of him at this angle as he’s aligned deliciously with your pussy, applying the most intoxicating pressure to your clit. Logan stares at you hungrily, pressing your chest into his, his hands firmly gripping your waist. You both moan as he grinds up into your pussy with his hand occasionally dipping down to squeeze your tight ass. You mewl at the feel of his hand there.

“Need more of you, princess,” he growls, taking no more than a second to grip the hem of your shirt and rip it up off of your head, you gasp with no time to react when he reaches down to the waistband of your shorts and tears them in half with ease. Both your shirt and ruined shorts tossed carelessly onto the floor.

“Logan!” you exclaim, trying your best to hide your amusement from him.

“Much better,” he drawls. He attacks your neck where he aggressively trails kisses and bites up and down the flesh, occasionally sucking and leaving purple marks in his wake. You throw your head back in ecstasy as you grind your naked cunt onto his cock, wetting the fabric of his boxers with your slick. His head dips down to your breasts, sucking purple bruises into your skin and leaving as many marks as he can before bringing a sensitive bud between his lips and sucking there as well. You moan throatily, gripping the back of his head and forcing his head further onto your breasts as he sucks, licks, and bites with animalistic need. You circle your free nipple with your fingers as he continues his onslaught, alternating with him when he switches attention between each breast. The feel of Logan’s clothed, firm cock against your clit as you grind against him is not enough. You need more of him.

“Logan,” you whine. “I need you. Inside me.” Your hand travels down to the waistband of his boxers, slipping them down as far as you can in desperation.

Logan responds by lifting you slightly off of him, allowing you to pull his boxers further down. You watch as his cock reveals itself, pressed firmly against his stomach. Your breath hitches at the sight. The girth shocks you, curious how it’d feel splitting you into two. You’re sure his length would take up entirety of your pussy once inside, most definitely pressing into your cervix no matter the position. A gasp leaves your lips as your hand wraps around his length, surprised at the difficulty in which your fingers have encasing the entirety of him. Logan hisses against your breast at the sudden touch, the grip on your waist growing tighter. He leaves one last lick on your breast before capturing your mouth in a feverish kiss. He attacks your mouth aggressively, his occasional bites almost making your lips bleed, his tongue thrusting into your mouth without a care. The onslaught of your mouth is so intoxicating, you almost don’t notice him lifting you up to position himself at your entrance. The tip of his cock prods your pussy and you whine into the kiss, driving your hips down as much as you can.

“We’re gonna take it nice and slow, baby,” Logan rasps against your lips encouragingly. Logan grips your jaw so you’ll look into his eyes, “You’re gonna take it all for me, won’t you?”

You nod eagerly as you squirm on top of him, so desperate for him to fill you up. He slides himself in about an inch further, causing your moan to turn to a wince at the delicious stretch he applies to your pussy.

“That’s it, princess,” Logan praises with a gravelly drawl that makes you melt. He groans as he spears into you a few more inches, your moans fanning his face.

“Good girl,” Logan encourages, making you fawn, “Just take a bit more for me, princess.”

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as he splits you open. He's bottomed out inside of you and already grazing your cervix. Your pussy’s stretched to its maximum around his girth. You can tell Logan is holding back, he’s tense beneath you, gripping you with such fervor that you’re sure he’ll leave marks.

“Logan,” you pant, “fuck me.”

He grunts as you raise your hips, allowing him the space to thrust up into you. The force of his thrust makes you groan in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“That’s a good girl, take it,” he coaxes, thrusting slowly into you, acclimating you to his length. Slowly, the winces become replaced with needy, lewd moans. Giving Logan permission to hammer into you harder and harder with the progression of groans and moans that escape your throat.

His cock is so deep inside of you that it applies the most delicious pressure to your cervix, pinching it each time he bottoms out. The feeling is so full, so stretched, each ridge he passes making you moan in ecstasy.

“So tight…so, so tight for me, baby,” Logan growls, his face so close to yours that his beard scratches your face with each of his thrusts. “M’gonna pound this fuckin’ pussy.”

The feel of his breath against your neck makes you whimper. His mouth latching onto you and biting down possessively making you yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Logan hoists you up off of his pelvis, supporting the entirety of your weight in his arms. To keep your balance, you grip his shoulders tightly gasping when Logan begins to hammer into you with such strength and speed you almost sob.

“Yes,” he drawls, his voice raspy and breathing ragged, “good girl, you take it so well for me.”

Your moans become unrecognizable to you as a pleasure unlike any other you’ve experienced ravages all your senses; Logan’s mouth on your neck, his cock surely bruising your cervix, his finger suddenly drifting down to your clit to rub circles into the sensitive bud. The pitch in your voice rises with each flick of your sensitive nub. If you were with any other person, surely you’d feel self conscious about the way you’re screaming—almost sobbing as you’re being fucked up into. But Logan draws this kind of unabashed pleasure from you that makes you forget where you are in the world and allows you to just focus on how fucking good he feels inside of you. How he can sustain this kind of power, force, and strength as he fucks into you, is beyond you, especially while supporting your weight with only one arm. Your cries of pleasure grow further and further together as the familiar swirl of heat and pleasure rises in your stomach.

“Keep going, Logan, keep going…don’t stop,” you plead as you desperately seek your release.

“You gonna come for me?” Logan grunts into your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making a whimper escape your lips.

“Yes, Logan,” you mewl, now cheek to cheek with him, his beard almost vibrating against you as he sustains the speed of his thrusts.

“You take it so well, princess, can’t wait to feel you come around this cock,” he rasps into your ear, taking a lobe between his teeth and nibbling gently.

Your pleasure swirls inside of you, building and building into white hot pressure against your clit, causing your breaths to quicken and thighs to clench.

“Logan, I’m—“ you warn.

“Look into my eyes when I make you come, babygirl,” Logan commands, pulling your head back to look at you.

“M-my eyes?” you question, a wave of realization washing over your face of what he might see if that happens, “No…I can’t.”

A gasp jerks you awake. Your chest heaves, your pussy clenching around nothing. A pain grows in your neck and lower back, due to the position you feel asleep in your chair. This one felt so much more real than the last one, a slight lucidity to your thoughts and feelings. How the hell are you supposed to look him in the eye on Friday? Everything just felt so right.

Doing your best to shake your feelings from your head, you check the time on your phone to see it’s only 1:45 am. You huff in annoyance, looking back to the essay you neglected for a wet dream.

...

A/N: i promise this will probably be the last chapter that ends like this, i just desperately need an excuse to write logan smut without compromising the plot too much🤭 hope you enjoyed. to view this work on ao3 click here

[hannieoftheyear]

sexting with Mingyu

the one where you accidentally send Mingyu – someone who you do not like – a nude.

content warnings: smut, sexting, mingyu is an avid emoji user, switch mingyu but more subby at the end (sawrrrry I can’t help it), use of pet names (good boy and baby).

w.c: 2,9k

note: I wanted to post a quick work to get this blog going while I finish some longer things I’m working on ♡ hope you like it and I’m sorry if there are any mistakes

part 2 is posted! find it here

Your eyes roll when your phone lights up and the text notification pops up.

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t forget to transfer me the money for Seokmin’s bday 🙏 [11:47 pm.]

The idea of Kim Mingyu of all people handling something as important as a birthday surprise for your best friend irks you.

Of course he was his best friend too. But why on earth did he end up making the plans. And who made you follow his lead. It’s like torture. You don’t want to engage with him in any way.

He was so smug when everyone decided he should be in charge of the surprise party. The decision was between you and him, and you guess people don’t really like your style of planning because it was an unanimous vote. Still, you liked not having to stress so much about it, but having to rely on your sworn enemy makes you shrug.

Okay, maybe sworn enemy it’s an exaggeration. You two just don’t like each other, and that’s fine. Not everyone is always going to like you, and you’re okay with that. The problem is when you can’t avoid said person because you’re in the same fucking friend group.

You two avoid each other if possible. When the whole group hangs out, you try to stay as far away as you can. It’s not like you fight with him, but your exchanges are short and dry, often a little harsh, so you try your best to avoid it to not spoil the mood.

After you transfer him the money, you take a screenshot to send him. It’s not really needed, but you do it just to make sure there’s proof that you transferred the money.

You open his chat and send the last picture on your camera roll without even looking, trying to be done with him the fastest possible.

You: [Picture.] [11:50 pm.]

Locking your phone, you keep working on the assignment your boss asked you to finish by tomorrow. But it gets cut short because not even five minutes later, Mingyu texts you again. You don’t open his chat, but instead, read it through the notification.

Kim Mingyu🤢: didn’t take you as the type to take pics like that 🫣 [11:54 pm.]

You wonder what the hell he’s talking about and why he chose such an annoying emoji.

As you open the chat, your eyes grow wide, and you realize you forgot to check what exactly you were sending Mingyu.

It seems that your screenshot hadn’t fully loaded on the gallery, and you accidentally sent him the previous last photo on your camera roll, which was a mirror selfie of you wearing a new pair of underwear you bought today.

Panic starts to creep in on you, but before doing anything stupid, you breathe in and breathe out, calming yourself to think. Mingyu’s still online, which means he’s probably waiting for your answer.

Instead of admitting it was on accident or showing him any weakness, you decide to play with him a little. He likes to annoy you too, so why not do the same.

You: you never know… I’m full of surprises.

You: why wouldn’t I take a pic if I look pretty? [11:55 pm]

You don’t expect much but his reply comes as soon as you click send.

Kim Mingyu🤢: surprised I definitely am🤔 can’t decide if I like this side of you or not🫢 [11:55 pm.]

You: like I care about your validation [11:56 pm.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should.

You: ?

Kim Mingyu🤢: take pics like this I mean😳

Now this is getting interesting.

You: so you think I look pretty? [11:57 pm.]

You wouldn’t lie and say him saying things like this doesn’t make you a little giddy. He’s always so dry with you, you definitely prefer this side of him.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should send me another one🫣 it’ll help me make up my mind.

You ponder on what’s happening for a solid minute before replying. Is he flirting? Is he teasing you? Will this just be another thing to annoy you in the future?

You: can you stop with those fuckass emojis. [11:58 pm.]

You: I’m not speaking to you if you keep talking like that.

Kim Mingyu🤢: what if I say please?

Now that. Is unexpected. At first it seemed like he wanted to annoy you too, but now he’s almost… begging? How far is he willing to take it? How willing are you?

You: you’re so annoying.

You: I’m trying to work.

Kim Mingyu🤢: all this time we've known each other and I’ve never even seen you in a bikini. [11:59 pm]

Kim Mingyu🤢: what a waste of time.

You: was it worth the wait?

Kim Mingyu🤢: you have no idea.

You: enlighten me then.

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh I don’t think you’re prepared for that.

The conversation is taking a turn you’re not sure if you should take. Exciting you in ways that it shouldn’t.

A chat between the two of you never exceeded a few texts. You are both always so eager to end it as soon as possible, so why does he keep replying? Why do you?

You: what do you want Mingyu? [12:00 am]

Your blatant question seems to take him by surprise because he doesn’t reply right away.

Kim Mingyu🤢: me? You’re the one that sent me a fucking nude at this hour [12:01 am]

He’s right. Are you embarrassing yourself? He’s never gonna let you live after this. But you’re not backing down now.

You: I wasn’t even naked you pervert [12:02 am]

You: and it didn’t seem to matter to you before

You: you liked it didn’t you

Kim Mingyu🤢: never said I didn’t

You: so…

Kim Mingyu🤢: what?

You: are you gonna do something about it?

You’re too curious for your own good. The lines between annoying him and flirting with him are getting more and more blurred every second that passes.

Now it’s your turn to be surprised.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you can’t ask me that [12:03 am]

You: why?

Minutes pass and you see him typing then nothing, then typing again. Your room starts to feel hotter, the expectation getting the best of you and you start to feel a familiar feeling at the base of your stomach.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you should never send a desperate guy something like that at this hour [12:06 am]

You: are you that desperate?

Kim Mingyu🤢: [Picture.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: does that answer your question?

You stare in awe at your phone for what feels like an hour. His hard dick covered by his white boxers threatening to come out fills your screen. Nothing is left to the imagination.

Kim Mingyu🤢: cat got your tongue? [12:08 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: [Picture.]

Kim Mingyu🤢: it’s getting difficult to not touch myself

A second photo fills your screen now. It’s almost in the same position except now his hand is covering his bulge and his red tip is out.

Wetness starts to pool on your underwear, but he doesn’t need to know, yet at least.

You: I never pictured you as such a needy guy. [12:10 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m not ashamed to be who I am🙈

You: even with you hands on your pants you manage to send a fucking emoji wow. [12:11 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I can send something else

Kim Mingyu🤢: only if you want of course

You straighten yourself, waiting for another photo, but nothing happens. When you move on your seat, you feel just how wet you are. Oh you’re gonna kill him after this.

You: I really hate you you know [12:14 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: aren’t you supposed to be working?😨

You: you’re distracting

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh so you do want this

You: this? [12:15 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: all you have to do is ask

Kim Mingyu🤢: nicely

You: you really gonna make me beg?

Kim Mingyu🤢: want me to show you how horny I am?

Kim Mingyu🤢: you want me to make you feel good.

You: you could never make me feel good. [12:16 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: oh we’ll see about that.

The act you’re putting up won’t last much longer if he keeps up like this. Your right hand creeps down you abdomen. You barely graze your covered cunt, the little relief makes you sigh.

You’re too lost in the little pleasure and don’t realize he sent more texts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: [voice note] [12:18 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: your turn.

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m dying over here

Kim Mingyu🤢: are you touching yourself? [12:19 am]

You: you’re leaving me no choice. [12:20 am]

You decide to play with him a little and send him a ‘one view only’ photo of your hand inside your panties. The same panties as the first photo you sent.

After you reply, you dare to play his voice note. The faint sound of his hand tugging on his erection and his little grunts are nothing compared to the sigh he lets out at the end. You play with your fingers, circling them around your wet entrance.

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re so not fair. [12:22 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I bet you’re so wet right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: I wish you were here so I could touch you properly [12:23 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: my fingers playing with your little cunt like the brat you are

This can’t hurt, right? It’s not like it will happen again, and besides he’s already jerking off to your image. You start circling around your clit, playing with yourself making you squirm.

You: I’m so wet [12:24 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: did i get you all riled up already?

You: don’t flatter yourself

Kim Mingyu🤢: tell me.

Kim Mingyu🤢: show me how wet you are [12:25 am]

You: I could just slide my fingers in

Kim Mingyu🤢: I said show me

You debate if you should actually send him something. You know he’s trustworthy. He’s friends with your best friends after all, but this is something far beyond that.

You: should I? [12:26 am]

You: I could just leave you like this

You: get it done by myself

It could be read a threat, but you want to see how he reacts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t be mean☹️

Kim Mingyu🤢: I won’t show this to anyone [12:27 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: if that worries you

Kim Mingyu🤢: I promise

His sudden kindness surprises you a little.

You’re not sure if you always found Mingyu attractive. Sure he’s really handsome that’s undeniable. Maybe when you first met, you thought he was really hot, but those feelings died down because your relationship wasn’t the best. You had a few fights before you decided it was best for the group to just ignore each other if possible.

This was the first time in years you had a long conversation that didn’t end in a fight, and you like it.

You: I'm not the type to do this you know [12:28 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m not either

You: but I don't want to stop

Kim Mingyu🤢: me neither

Knowing he wants this too just turns you on more. He’s not pushing you to do anything, and you guess that if you tell him to stop, he will. But you have to make sure before you do something.

You: just promise me this is between us [12:30 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you have my word🤐

You: be serious for one second

Kim Mingyu🤢: you can trust me

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m serious I won’t show or tell anyone

That is enough to calm you for now. You don’t think about how this will affect your relationship. Seokmin’s birthday is just a few days away, and you’ll have to face Mingyu in front of everyone.

But that doesn’t bother you now as you’re filming what Mingyu so desperately was asking you to.

You angle your phone to show only your lower body on camera. You start the video circling your entrance, gathering as much arousal as possible. After that, you move your fingers closer to the camera to show how wet they are and then slowly insert two fingers in your hole. You end the video after a little moan escapes your lips

You: for being such a good boy [12:35 am]

You: [video]

You don’t stop fingering yourself and close your eyes, imagining it’s Mingyu’s hand and not yours. His thick fingers would stretch you more than yours ever could. A few slow strokes are enough to make you squirm. And you remember to open your eyes and see you got more texts from Mingyu.

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy fuck [12:37 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re dripping

Kim Mingyu🤢: I should be there right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: show you what my mouth could do

Kim Mingyu🤢: could eat you out for hours

Kim Mingyu🤢: fuck you’re making me so hard [12:38 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: [picture]

He had taken his boxers off and was now fully naked. His hand could barely wrap around his fully hard dick. The tip is pinkish red and leaking precum already.

You: fuck you’re so big [12:39 am]

You: I don’t think it could fit inside me

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’ll make it fit

You: how?

Kim Mingyu🤢: I'd make you cum so much that I'd slide right in

You: are you touching yourself?

Kim Mingyu🤢: god how I wish this was you instead of my hand

You close your eyes again. Imagining Mingyu on top of you as you finger yourself harder, as deep as you possibly can. Wet sounds and moans fill your room as you get closer and closer.

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’m so close it’s embarrassing [12:41 am]

You: I am too

Kim Mingyu🤢: show me?🥺

The giggle you let out is almost instantaneous. His emojis are annoyingly cute.

You take a similar video as before, but don’t hold back the moans. Your strokes are slow to show on camera how deep you’re getting. The orgasm is so close that you can taste it, but you stop, edging yourself.

You: because you asked so nicely [12:43 am]

You: [video.]

You: now you

You wait a few minutes, stroking you clit lightly to not lose the orgasm but not quickly enough to stimulate much.

The torture doesn’t last long because a video appears in your chat along with more texts.

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy shit [12:44 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re so hot

Kim Mingyu🤢: god that should be my hand

Kim Mingyu🤢: [video] [12:45 pm]

As soon as you press play you’re welcomed by Mingyu’s delicious moans. His cock is shiny with pre cum all over it, now angry red. He moans at every pump and you feel yourself getting wetter.

Unexpectedly, he also speaks: “I’m so close" his voice is hoarse and deep like you’ve never heard before, “I wish this was your hand, shit only imagining makes me almost cum" and finally, “please… tell me I can cum… can I cum?”

You never expected the big buff Kim Mingyu to be so needy, it just makes you hornier if that’s even possible.

You: you’re so needy baby [12:47 am]

You: I’m close too

You: been edging myself waiting for you

Kim Mingyu🤢: shit baby don’t say stuff like that [12:48 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: im about to burst

You: want to cum big boy?

Kim Mingyu🤢: pleeasee

You: look who’s begging now

Kim Mingyu🤢: don’t play with me right now

Kim Mingyu🤢: you’re just as desperate as me

Kim Mingyu🤢: use three fingers for me and cum baby [12:49 am]

You don’t need to be told twice. You press record and insert three fingers into your cunt. You’re so wet they just slide in and you let out a long moan, increasing your speed at every thrust. It’s not long until you’re shaking and cumming all over your hand and bed.

But you don’t end the video there. You grab your phone and film your face as you suck your fingers clean while staring at the camera lense.

You: [video.] [12:51 am]

You: your turn to cum baby

As you wait for him, you go clean yourself up and grab new sheets for the bed.

Kim Mingyu🤢: [video] [12:53]

You press play and the sight of his hand is rapidly stoking his hard dick welcomes you, no more than five strokes after the video starts he lets out a long ground and is cumming all over his abs.

Kim Mingyu🤢: that was [12:54]

Kim Mingyu🤢: holy shit

Kim Mingyu🤢: I never came so fast in my life

You: embarrassingly me neither

The conversations stills for a few minutes, even though it feels like hours. What do you say after sexting with someone you supposedly hate?

You: I guess I’ll see you on saturday [01:03 am]

You're left on read a few more minutes, and you wonder if he already regrets this.

Kim Mingyu🤢: yeah right [01:06 am]

Kim Mingyu🤢: I’ll send everyone what hour to come by to prepare everything

Kim Mingyu🤢: see you then

It’s so awkward that you don’t send anything after.

You don’t regret it, but you do fear what’s going to happen.

Note: sorry if the ending it’s a little sudden, I don’t know how to finish this but I do want to write a part two 😉

[newtkive]

pixels [newt x reader - modern text au]

ch. 1 - the gc birth

in which two online friends navigate a romance through a minecraft groupchat with their stupid friends

or, newt, the quiet, stoic boy, and y/n, the bubbly girl both curse the world for keeping them apart, but at least they can send each other cute emojis and hope the other doesn't notice their blossoming feelings.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

__

notes: hi :p im very new to writing on tumblr (but ive always been a reader) so pls bare w me! and im trying to revert back to being 14 (im 23 lols..) so im revisiting my old favs including the maze runner/thomas (bc i binged the artful dodger and now im obsessed again). there will be non-text chapters in the future as well, when everyone eventually meets. this will be newt focused so enjoy !! also everyone is like a realistic age from 23 to 28

__

THE GLADE

[ 7:45 PM ]

alby added minho, y/n, newt, tommy, and gally

alby: Hello, guys.

minho: wtf is this

newt: uhhhh

tommy: hi :3

y/n: so this is why you asked me for my # in private

gally: i didn’t consent to this when i gave you my number

newt: don’t give strange men your number y/n

tommy: oh that’s y/n?

alby: Wait, Newt you had Y/N’s number already??

newt: yea

tommy: o.O

y/n: i gave it to him like two weeks after we met lmao

tommy: SO HE HAD YOUR NUMBER FOR A YEAR AND I DIDNT????

y/n: well he asked and you guys didn’t :p

newt: lmao

minho: ik he smug as fuck rn

not u asking for a girls number lmao simp

newt: stop

y/n: we all talk in discord anyways so i didn’t really think about it

plus you guys are friends irl so idk

it felt kinda weird to insert myself heh

minho: we’ve known you for a year and a half y/n

we play games all the time

call all the time

we even send packages and shit

you’re very much considered our irl friend

y/n: REALLY?? 🥺🥺

tommy: internet friends are real friends 😍❤️

minho: the heart eyes are crazy

but yes dude

newt: of course you’re our close friend. just cuz we live near each other and you’re a bit far away doesn’t mean we don’t adore you

minho: ADORE IS CRAZY LMFAO

but real ig

y/n: AWWWWW YOU GUYS LOVEEE MEEEEEE

hahahahha

HAHAHHAHJFIEKMGOR

I LVOE YOU GIYYYYSSSS IM PUTTING ALL OUR MINECRAFT BEDS TOGETHER LATER

gally: i do not want my bed to be infested by you guys

minho: gally sleeps in the corner

gally: no i dont i sleep in my mansion

y/n: cherry blossom mansion*

gally: and you sleep in a shed

y/n: cherry blossom shed* its pink and that matters.

tommy: love you y/n 😊🥰

y/n: love you tommy <3333

minho: that’s actually nasty stop now

y/n: u mad ur unloved

i love how the gc name is our minecraft town name :((

newt: aw it is

minho: can we talk about why tf this was made when we have a perfectly good discord

alby: I’m done with Discord.

newt: you got your shit hacked didn’t you mate

minho: mate 💀💀

british people so crazy

alby: Yes maybe..

I don’t want to make another.

y/n: or your old ass doesn’t know how to

minho: LMAO REAL

alby: Gonna ignore that. But I am getting too old for it. I have a new promotion at work so that means I won’t have time to play with you guys as much anymore. So I decided to make this groupchat in hopes to talk to you guys more to make up for it :)

minho: every group always has the old head with the job 💀💀

newt: minho admitting he’s jobless

minho: you work at a library be so fr rn

newt: i have an income. you have a room in your grandmas basement. we are not the same.

gally: LMFAOOOOOOO

minho: stfu :////

y/n: AWWWWWWW ALBYYYYYYY

tommy: YAAAY!!!!

im going to text you guys all day

tell you every meal

every thought

every interaction will be meaningful and glorious

newt: you are 24 years old you don’t have to do all that

minho: no fr im turning off my phone if he starts this shit

why not just do it before in the discord ??

tommy: easy access now and i tried before but stopped since no one really replied..

y/n: i say we all do it :D i will too tommy

newt: ok second thought that’s fine

minho: .

gally: that’s wild.

y/n: YAAAAAY!!!!!!!!!! NEWT YOU GO FIRST

newt: first with what

y/n: say what u ate today

newt: didn’t say i’d do it.

tommy: i ate muffin, monster energy drink, and hamburger :3333

you guys next

minho: that’s all you had bro..

y/n: hot cheetos and french fries and coffee :D

minho: ??????? BRO

how are you guys alive

y/n: it's my day off and no class so i just wanna rot in bed and that means no cooking

newt: please eat and drink water.

like for real and document it

y/n: ok wait

there

tommy: yum!

minho: y/n..

newt: cereal does not count

y/n: I DONT HAVE ENERGY TO MAKE ANYTHING OKAY

im a 23 year old broke college student my fridge is bare

newt: alright what do you want?

y/n: wym?

newt: like if you could pick.

minho: that’s so cruel 😭😭 just making her imagine it

i like it go on.

tommy: i want chick fil a

minho: i knew you hate the gays

tommy: I AM THE GAYS?????

y/n: ugh that does sound good

mmmm chickem sandiwh waffle fry I Want that Os mYch

newt: that’s what you would order?

y/n: mmmcm yeahshhhhh

newt: ok

minho: that’s it?

i thought soemthing would happen

tommy: me too

like a spell! magic 🪄

y/n: sigh

my cereal tastes bad now

newt: well it is cocoa puffs.

minho: L cereal

y/n: DTOP SAYING L ITS SO ANNOYITIGJNGGGGG

minho: she so madddd 😂😂 L

newt: you're annoying minho

minho: youre just saying that bc shes saying that

newt: no ive always said it. and i will continue to. youre fucking annoying

minho: who bought you your coffee yesterday

newt: ???

myself

and i paid for yours too

im the one with an income

minho: .

well i didnt think youd remember that well.

newt: it was literally yesterday.

minho: yeah but ur old

newt: IM THE SAME AGE AS YOU

minho: yeah but im 🤗✨ 26 ✨🤗and youre... 26😬😔

tommy: guys stop fighting

newt: we aren't fighting

maybe this gc was a bad idea

tommy: NO!!!!!!!!!

y/n: NOOOO!

tommy: this is like y/n is here w us irl

y/n: awwwwwwwwwwwwwww

minho: no it's not. we would smell a foul stench if she was

y/n: i ahte you sooo bad.

wait there is a knock at my door im scared

newt: answer it

minho: aren't you supposed to say don't open the door for strangers ????

newt: well usually yes

y/n: no im not expecting company

newt: just do it pls

y/n: ok :D

minho: bruh..

i hope she gets robbed and u feel bad forever newt

newt: why would you want that

minho: bc she owes me money

newt: YOU owe ME money

minho: yes but i have a good reason she just wanted robux

tommy: Y/N DONT DO IT!!! I HAVE SEEN DATELINE

y/n: :o....

tommy: Y/N?????????

OH GOD THEY GOT HER

minho: why would she text a silly face if she got got

tommy: clearly its a surprised face

maybe its not her

its like those cut out magazine letters murderers use

y/n: who got me chick fil a!!!!!!!!!!

minho: me

newt: you literally did not

minho: shut up

y/n: newt it was u i see ur name on the receipt

newt: well

y/n: :(

newt: what why are you sad?

minho: im hungry too

y/n: u spent ur money :(

newt: you're hungry are you not?

minho: she's not but i am

y/n: yeah but..

i feel bad you shouldn't have

newt: just eat it or i'll be mad

minho: i think i want red lobster

newt: it's really no big deal y/n

y/n: thank you newt :(((((

newt: you're welcome

go eat and watch ur show or smth

minho: i owuld love to eat and watch a show rn <33 ohhhh im starving

newt: can you shut up

gally: im muting this gc if this means i have to deal with your guys' shit more than usual now.

minho: thank god

newt: good

tommy: good

y/n: good

the food is good too <3

newt: good.

_

lmk if you want to be tagged!

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 1

Ghost x Reader x Konig

(Neighbour!au and Roommate!au cause I can't get enough of them hehe)

Also like for this fic just don't mind how this would actually never happen in real life + don't think too much about the logic in this story. It's all purely fictional and for your entertainment :)

You want to go home.

Your apartment keys jingle as they hang from your fingers. Room 409. You sigh. It’s been a long day, to say the least. All you want to do is to just relax and unwind like you would any other Friday with a glass of wine and that dumpster fire of a Netflix show that is ‘Emily in Paris’. You let out another long sigh waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby. At least Emily lives a much more exciting and drama-filled life than you did with your 9 to 5 job.

You stare at your feet, trying to find something to pass the time that seems to drag on for forever. Your feet are already killing you from your high heels that you’ve been wearing for over 9 hours. Usually, you would be home by 7 — it’s 11 — especially on a Friday. Laura, a close coworker of yours went on pregnancy leave, meaning you’re working more hours to cover her absence.

Your phone buzzes with a reminder from your calendar app — oh great, it’s already 12. ‘RENT PAYMENT DUE IN A WEEK.’ You haven’t found a roommate to occupy that extra bedroom in your apartment even after 2 months of your listing being put online. Granted, you should’ve started looking for a new roommate the moment your previous one told you they were moving out, but you were too busy for that! You tap your foot impatiently. How long does it take for an elevator to travel up 2 floors from the carpark to the lobby?

The elevator doors open with a ‘ding!’ and you’re met with the giant of a man that is this mysterious guy wearing all black. His brown hair and matching brown eyes make him dashing and the scars littering on his face adds on to his good looks somehow. “’s rude to stare, love.” His gruff voice snaps you out of it. “R-right, sorry.” To say he was intimidating was an understatement, but god was he good looking.

When you’re both in the elevator, the usual smell of the clean, bleached scent is replaced with the smell of cigarettes and an undertone of gunpowder? Whatever it is, you much prefer it over the smell of bleach you’ve been used to for months. The elevator ride is silent and you both get off the same floor to go our separate ways… except he was following you!

You get a little bit nervous as anyone would if a tall, maybe 190cm buff guy was following you a few steps behind. “What apartment you in?” You say with panic filling your body with each step. Oh god, you don’t wanna die yet! “410.” He responds. “Oh.” Well, that makes more sense.

“I’m your neighbor then! Nice to meet you.” You smile and introduce yourself. He hums in response. “Simon Riley.” He says, nodding at you in acknowledgement. You would like to chat with this guy more, but he doesn’t strike you as talkative, as if his short replies didn’t already tell you that.

You both turn the locks on your own apartment doors. “Next time, you should really run if you think you’re in danger.” He chuckles a little to himself. You turn to look at him in shock, only to find he’s already disappeared into his apartment. So he did know! Asshole. You shake your head and enter your own apartment.

After showering, you scroll your phone on Instagram mindlessly when a notification pops up on your phone. Oh my god, someone responded to your listing! You waste no time in responding to them, despite it being ass-o-clock. You arrange to meet up with them in the afternoon, and you head to sleep hoping whoever this guy is will be a good roommate for you.

When you wake up, you’re a little behind schedule. Scrap that, VERY behind schedule. You haven’t cleaned up the apartment and made it presentable to your possible roommate yet, and you’re gonna meet him in 20 minutes downstairs! You hurriedly stuff all the clothes you find lying around in the living room into your own bedroom and clean the kitchen counters — you know the drill.

As soon as you’re done arranging the last piece of furniture in the living room, you rush out of the door, bumping into that neighbor you met last night. You give him a quick, “Morning, Simon!” before rushing past him, not even giving him time to greet you back.

Somehow by the grace of god, you’re right on time to meet the guy. You agree to meet him at the café right across your apartment complex, and holy fuck. There’s no way this 2 meter guy is your roommate. You both stare at each other awkwardly before you decide to go up to him. “Konig?” I say, and he nods. Oh he is.

[ruershrimo]

i.yuji x reader | konbini in the night

there are breadcrumbs on your face. you wipe them off and throw the packaging away in the dustbin next to his bike, the darkness of the night contrasting the bright lights of the convenience store next to you.

“look!” he calls out, the light in his pink hair fading as he exits the store, “I got one of these strawberry sandwiches I keep seeing online lately.”

the glint in his eyes is like powdered sugar on a perfect cake, or fireworks in a starry sky. sweet, bright, unforgettable— a treasure in people’s memories. the convenience store had been like an oasis in the dim, merely lamp-lit streets, and the two of you decided to dash straight into it before getting back to jujutsu high’s dormitories.

“you sure you don’t want anything else?” he asks, “the cashier lady’s actually really nice. I can give you some of these sandwiches, too.”

you’re sure it’s because he’s nicer. that he walked up to the counter, with that adorable face and kind smile, and the lady just treated him the same. like how sunflowers shined at and turned their heads to the sun.

“no, I’m fine.”

“hm…” he goes, “okay. but you should eat more, you know?”

“pft— yuuji, I’ll be just fine. don’t worry, okay?”

“okay,” he says with a pout.

he gets on the bicycle, and reflexively, you sit behind him. (you really have been pavlov’ed into getting on the passenger’s seat every time he’s on his bike, huh?) he places the sandwiches next to where you’ve placed your own water bottle in the basket, and you lean forward so that your face rests against his back while your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. the hard pillion seat feels as comfortable as a mattress on display in a department store.

the ride back to the dorms— back home, actually— starts mostly mundanely, the wind humming softly against your face, the night dissolving your consciousness in slumber. you feel just that one bit out of control of yourself, and your head feels light to the point where you don’t want to think about anything at all.

“...let’s get married, yuuji,” you whisper under the twinkling stars, your spirit warmly embracing his while you press your chest more against his back. normally you’d be too scared to, especially with your breath still smelling like sandwiches: all too ridden with your own inhibitions— but this night in particular is almost a perfect one, so for once you don’t mind.

there is so much pain in the world but not here. not behind him and definitely not on the seat behind his back. the world ahead is uncertain but you’d be willing to face it with him head-on as long as he’s fine with it.

“huh? married?” he doesn’t know if the red on his cheeks is obvious but he thinks that even if it is you wouldn’t see it under the night sky. you can tell that under his large brown eyes there’s the faintest of blushes— you don’t need eyes to see that.

you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. he smells like some kind of 3-in-1 shampoo-conditioner-shower gel thing, but you guess that’s a testament to how much you love him since you don’t mind it at all. it’s wonderfully endearing to you now: the plain, minty scent that clings to his trademark ref hoodie, how the ends of his spiky pink hair poke and tickle at your face, how you can hear his low, slow breathing like a soft melody soothing you to sleep.

you’re not going to think that you’ll lose him someday. if you did then you wouldn’t be able to live. but if you didn’t promise this now— now when you’ve still only met him three months ago— and lost him, you’d spend your whole life grieving over him.

“mhm,” you reply, “let’s get married. I want to stay with you for a lifetime.”

and if this isn’t love you don’t know what love is anymore.

he looks back for a moment, and smiles, showing his teeth off like a little kid.

“sure! I wanna have that too.” he turns back. “I mean, I wanna make you happy. really happy. every day. and you wouldn’t have to worry about keeping me happy because I’d be the happiest guy in the world as long as you were. and, and—” —he lets one of his hands go from the bicycle handles; you open your eyes as he starts making gestures with it as accompaniments to his words— “— we’ll have this nice house or something, and it can be whatever you like. we can think of something together. and we won’t have much but it’ll be enough, I think.”

“mhm,” you smile. you bet he can feel the imprints of your lips on his skin, because it lays the slightest of gooseflesh on the back of his neck, the hairs there rising a little. as gross as it sounds you don’t worry if it’s chapped, and you guess he doesn’t mind either. “we’ll have just enough for us.”

he hums in agreement. “yeah.”

it’s quiet for a while, just the night air mixed with his scent, the grass swaying along to a silent tune, him, and you.

“…you know, a lot of people think that things like this come in sequences or something. like you have to at least kiss and do more than studying or going to the store together. we don’t even go to each others’ rooms at night or spend every second together and all… but— I think… I think I already know I want to spend my whole life with you. I mean, I really, really love you. so I get kinda worked up about lots of stuff sometimes but then I’ll see you again and that tells me things’ll be fine. that we’ll work things out.”

“yeah,” you say, your breath brushing against his skin again. it warms your cheeks up as the heat in it spreads around your face like hot tea. “we will. we definitely will. I promise.”

you fall asleep on his shoulder and don’t care about waking up on time the next day.

haha I just wanted to get this out since it’s been sitting in my docs app for about a month,,, also 恭喜发财 to the people who celebrate it, and happy Valentine’s Day since it’s coming up soon! so sorry if this is subpar or has any grammatical mistakes TvT