#hello not sure if anyone actually looks at tags and I don’t want to be sappy but

[bakutenshi]

Home safe <3

lil bonus sketch on paper ;)

[httpiastri]

this christmas – op81

ski slopes, mistletoes, and the guy you've been crushing on for years – what could be better?

genre: fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers!au, smut (just one scene in the end, you can skip it if you want)

pairing: female leclerc!reader x oscar piastri

other characters: lando norris, charles leclerc, george russell & mundt, alex albon & lily muni he, pierre gasly & kika cerqueira gomes

warnings: mentions of alcohol, smut, not much more i think

word count: 13.8k (LMAO)

requested?: yes!!

author’s note: hello hello!! a lot to say about this one. first of all, thank you to @be-your-coffee-pot for this request, and i apologize for not getting to it earlier than now. for everyone’s knowledge, the request was sent in to me in august, so… yeah. i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but i hope you like it anyway <3

second of all, i feel pretty happy about some of these scenes, but some… not so much. some of the fillers have parts that i really despite, but i don’t really have time to rewrite since christmas is like 2 days away lol. also, my description of the reader’s relationship to charles is not my best work, idk why he barely even appears, and i’m also not sure why logan isn’t in this...

third of all, my red divider things make my posts disappear from the tags, so i didn’t put any in this time. it looks bad, i know, but idk how to fix it. if anyone does, please let me know. :)

and lastly: i only proofread this whole thing once yesterday, but tumblr was being a bitch and i got so frustrated that i do not have the energy to proofread it again. so please, if you happen to find any spelling or grammar mistakes, i would be very thankful if you let me know. <3

hope you all enjoy !!

december 12th, 2:11pm

oscar has always loved winter.

it started in his childhood; the holiday films he'd seen as a child, the way it always seemed to magically snow right on christmas eve really started something in him. it hadn't been common for him to get snow back home in australia when he was younger but once he moved to the england, he got to experience it quite a lot. playing, fighting and just existing in the snow was like an unfilled childhood need that stayed with him until his older years.

he loved spending christmas at home with his family, but ever since he got to experience real christmases with snow, trees and cozy darkness, he craved it more than he craved lying on the beach in his swimming trunks.

so when he was asked to come along to the swiss alps for a vacation during the winter break, he packed his bags right away. he and lando just happened to book the same flight, and they both arrived at the airport around noon, getting into a cab to take them to the accommodation together.

when they arrive outside the cottage, oscar is in shock; it is enormous. he had imagined just a tiny, cute little house – not that he was sure how seven drivers and a couple of girlfriends would fit in a "tiny" house – but he was far from right.

him and lando are the second pair to arrive, just about an hour after alex and lily, who are the self-proclaimed 'hosts' as they took care of all of the booking and planning.

"we thought that one would be lando's room," alex starts, pointing down the hallway. "since it's far away from everyone else, and i'm sure we all would prefer to actually get some sleep during the night time."

"oh, shut it..." lando mumbles, shoving his friend on his shoulder.

"this one can be yours, oscar," lily says, moving in the opposite direction and gesturing to another room. then, she points at the one right next to it. "and this one has two beds, so it's for charles and his sister."

oscar's ears perk up. "y/n is going to be here?" he speaks almost took quickly, making the other three turn to look at him.

"oh, i thought you knew..." lily has an apologetic look on her face.

"i must've forgotten," oscar answers, though he's completely sure no one told him about it. there's no way he would forget you. "don't worry, it's cool."

the hosts continue to move down the hallway, and the mclaren boys are just about to follow along when lando elbows oscar's side playfully. "it's cool?"

oscar raises an eyebrow, trying to keep calm. "what?"

"the youngest leclerc coming along?" a grin takes up lando's entire face. "it's just cool? is she cool, or-"

"goodbye, lando." oscar shakes his head, darting towards alex and lily again. he takes a few deep breaths, hoping the blush he can feel spreading across his cheeks isn't too obvious.

unfortunately, lando didn't need to see the blush to know. he has caught his teammate staring at you too many times over the season, and he is fully aware of the way oscar always is suddenly interested in the conversation whenever you're the topic of discussion.

lando knows everything. and this christmas, he's going to be the best wingman the world has ever seen.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 12:53am

it's past midnight when you and charles arrive. your flight had been delayed, and then the gps had stopped working all of a sudden. and then, charles just refused to drive any faster than 30 km/h, saying it was too dangerous. as if he didn't drive cars in ten times that speed without even flinching.

you assume the whole house is sleeping already, so you and charles both sneak in as quietly as you can. someone – lily, assumably – has left you a note on the front door, guiding you to your shared room. it all goes smoothly – until charles trips over the doorframe, dropping his bag onto the floor as he tries not to fall down. the sound rattles through the hallway and you flinch, stopping in your tracks as you hope no one's woken up. but just a second later, the door opposite yours opens and a head sticks out.

oscar.

your heart softens and your shoulders relax when your gaze meets his. your soft smile is mirrored on his face, the sleepiness evident in his droopy eyes and the way strands of his bedhead point in every direction.

he looks like he's just about to say something when charles speaks up. "sorry, man! were you asleep?"

he walks up to the australian, giving him a firm handshake and a pat on the back. oscar shakes his head. "i was up reading," his huskey accent is like music to your ears. "i thought i heard some rustling out here, and then..." he nods his head toward the suitcase on the floor.

your brother laughs as he steps back, walking into the room with the "leclerc" sign. "well, i'll let you get back to that then," he says, picking up the bag from the floor and looking back one last time. "good night."

and then, you were just two.

you and oscar stand still for a moment, just watching each other. then, he opens up his arms, welcoming you into his embrace. you step forward and drape your arms around his shoulders as his wrap around your waist, and you let out a content sigh. he's warm, comfortable, and the way he squeezes your body has your mind spinning.

"it's been a while," he says when you part from the hug, a soft grin playing on his lips.

"like a month," you chuckle, crossing your arms over your chest.

"a month has never felt this long before."

you're not sure when your crush on him started forming.

as someone who's always been interested in racing, even in the series your brother isn't in, you've kept up with most results and championships – including oscar's seasons in f2 and f3. after seeing oscar, the unstoppable rookie who completely crushed his season in f3, you made sure to keep an eye at him in f2 the following year. and it's easy to say that you liked what you saw. especially in jeddah.

you'd meet him occasionally around the paddock the following year, just giving him a sweet smile and a quick greeting as if it was no big deal. but you always found yourself squealing on the inside and taking deep breaths to stay calm whenever you made eye contact with him.

then came 2023 and his debut in f1. yet again, he exceeded everyone's expectations, performing better than most drivers who'd been on the grid for years. with his permanent role on the grid, he was around more – and so were you. it wasn't uncommon for the two of you to bump into each other, around the paddock or during media days or in afterparties, and now you tried not to shy away.

talking to oscar was always simple. he was easygoing, it all seemed effortless, and you felt more relaxed. before you knew it, you could chat about racing strategies and tyre management for twenty minutes before a member of the mclaren staff interrupted you, rushing oscar away somewhere. you got to know each other slowly throughout the season, though never really going further than some friendly conversations, but you felt happy knowing that you'd taken the first step towards getting closer to him.

"so..." he starts. "you've been good?"

you nod. "yeah, a lot of studying but it's been alright. you?"

"yeah."

and there it is again, that slightly awkward silence. it's natural, you haven't seen each other since that night in abu dhabi and you're both a little unsure of where you stand after it. the tension is so thick that you could cut through it with a knife, and you kind of want to escape the whole situation. but then he speaks up.

"hey, i just wanted to-"

he's interrupted by the call of your name, and when you turn around, charles is leaning against the doorframe, eyes hazy. "are you going to sleep tonight or what?" he asks, dragging a hand through his already messy hair.

you feel a weight lift off your shoulders – and at the same time, your stomach tightens in disappointment. you nod at your brother, looking back at oscar to give him a wave and a "sleep well", before joining charles in your shared room.

oscar stands still in the corridor for a moment, before sighing and slapping himself in his mind for being so awkward and messing up this opportunity. but on the other side of the door, you stand still too as you watch your brother jump onto his bed, taking a deep breath to clear your mind.

you're just thankful the room is so dark that he can't see your ever-reddening cheeks.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 13th, 10:24am

despite the never-ending pitter-patter of your heart as you went to bed last night, you could fall asleep quite quickly, seeing as you were utterly exhausted from traveling. breakfast this morning feels like you and charles have just been reunited with your childhood friends after being kidnapped for years; not like you had just gone a few weeks without seeing each other. everyone runs around hugging, chatting about how much they've missed each other and how great this trip will be.

"did you get new highlights?" kika asks you, sliding into the seat next to you by the long table as you stuff a piece of bread into your mouth. the room is a combination of a kitchen and a dining hall, with a big cooking area and a glass wall giving the dining area a beautiful view of the mountains outside. in the middle stands a long table with enough seats for all of you, filled with fresh pastries and other breakfast goods to celebrate the first day of the trip. "or is it just the light?"

"just the light," you answer, shooting her a smile as you pick up your cup of coffee.

"oh my god, i almost forgot to ask you," lily starts and places her elbows on the table, her face resting in her hands. "what happened to that guy from raya you were talking to? did you end up going out?"

oscar is sitting a few seats down the table, pretending to be immersed in a conversation with some of the other drivers about the last few races of the season, while actually just doing his best to listen in on the conversation you're having. when he hears alex's girlfriend mention raya, his ears perk up and his breath gets caught in his throat. a million thoughts instantly crash into his mind.

she's seeing someone? how could i not know this? she's on raya? is she actively looking for a partner? who is this guy they're talking about?

he coughs and tries to act normal, shaking off the uncomfortable feeling passing through his body. he soon hears the sweet sound of your wholehearted laughter, and he almost smiles instinctively at it, before he can remind himself that lando's story about las vegas isn't exactly a smiley matter. "you're not going to believe this, i have the best story," you say in-between fits of giggles. "i met up with him for some drinks, and guess what he said? that he has a foot fetish and has dreamed about me caressing his face with my feet." all of the girls squeal and explode with laughter, making some of the boys flinch and look over to see what all the commotion is about. "so, safe to say, we never met up again. and i haven't wanted to go out with anyone else from there, either. i have a feeling they're all just creeps."

"hey, don't lose hope!" kika says while elbowing your side, but her actions are too soft, forcing you to fold over as an uncomfortable feeling spreads through your body. however, a burst of laughter spills past your lips. kika immediately holds her arm back, laughing along. "crap, i'm sorry! i totally forgot how ticklish you are."

you shake your head, your hand landing on her shoulder. "no worries," you tell her. "but, i haven't lost hope. i just don't think my soulmate is lurking around on raya with the foot fetishists."

oscar feels his shoulders relax again, feeling alright with focusing back on the boys' conversation now that he knows you in fact aren't seeing anyone.

maybe he has a shot, after all. as long as he doesn't talk too much about your feet.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 14th, 3:09pm

lando thinks he's so smart.

when he tells oscar to go ask if you'd like to have some of the gingerbread cookies he's bought, it's the third time today he has forced some kind of interaction between the two of you. he is sure that the more time that the two of you spend with each other, the more likely you will be to stop pining and just confess already.

but this time, oscar glares at the brit. "why don't you ask her yourself?"

"because you know what room she's in," lando hums back, reaching into the cupboard with some groceries. "i keep getting lost, the house is too big. plus, i'm busy." he motions to the half-empty grocery bag on the counter.

oscar lets out a sigh, but nods. "how can you memorize all tracks on the calendar, but you get lost in a cabin?" he asks rhetorically, whilst turning around and making his way down the hallway towards your room.

it's not that oscar doesn't enjoy 'accidentally' being forced into talking to you; it's the extreme lack of discretion lando is showing that makes him annoyed. it makes oscar seem like he's the one coming up with silly excuses to talk to you, and he doesn't like how it makes him look. he'd rather be seen as chill, laidback, someone who doesn't force things. he doesn't want you to catch on too early and reject him.

your voice echoes a 'come in' when he knocks on the door to your bedroom, and he pushes the door open just a little to reveal you sitting on the bed, a thick blanket wrapped over your shoulders. a grin spreads across your lips when you make eye contact with him. "hi," you say, placing the book you were reading on the bedside table.

"hey," he answers, stepping inside the room. "i... lando bought some gingerbread cookies, and we were going to make some hot chocolate, and..." his voice trails off as his eyes wander down your body, taking in the christmas sweater you're wearing and the fuzzy socks covering your feet. he smiles absentmindedly at the sight, loving how cozy you seem, and wishing he was sitting right there with you, sharing the blanket.

you nod, understanding him despite his lack of words. "i'll be right there."

oscar gives you a thumbs up – one he then facepalms himself for when he's left your room – before moving towards the kitchen again. but when he walks into it, he sees something hanging from a lamp. he stops in his tracks. "no way..."

festive cookies aren't the only thing lando bought when he went to the local supermarket. he also got the ultimate tool for securing his master plan – a mistletoe.

he doesn't know how, but he's planning to make sure you and oscar meet underneath it at least once before the holidays are over. there's no way you'll both be able to avoid it all week.

of course, lando isn't the only one rooting for the two of you. most of the other drivers know too – how can they not notice the glances you share and the way you light up when someone mentions the other in a conversation? – and most of them are in on his plans. charles is probably the only one in the house who's still oblivious to your and oscar's pining, and lando thinks that he might interfere with the matchmaking if he figures something out, so the brit keeps quiet.

oscar wants to pull the mistletoe down, rip it apart and throw it in the trash, but he refrains. something inside him tells him this might actually work out in his favor – and he decides to trust his gut this time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 15th, 2:01am

sleeping can be tricky, especially when your brother is snoring loudly in a bed just a few meters away from you.

who even decided to put him and you in the same room?

when you've been tossing and turning to no avail for about an hour, you decide it's time to do something, anything, to hopefully get a little tired again. a glass of warm milk never hurt anyone, did it?

you make your way to the kitchen, pour yourself a glass of milk and put it in the microwave, before turning to look through the windows.

the view of the mountains is breathtaking. there is an untouched, thick layer of snow covering the area, with new flakes still falling. the sun set long ago, but the snow makes it all seem light. the lake below you is just barely visible by now, almost completely coated in snow.

it's completely serene, and you find yourself getting lost in the scenery. however, you're shaken out of your trance when you hear steps behind you. when you turn around, your eyes find someone standing just a few meters away, barely visible in the dark.

you jump in your place and clutch your chest in shock, not expecting anyone else to be up at this hour. when the person steps into the light of the little kitchen lap you had turned on, you relax instantly. "holy shit, oscar," you breathe. "you nearly scared me to death."

"i'm sorry," the australian chuckles. "i didn't know how to approach you without scaring you..."

"what even are you doing up?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest as you lean back against the counter.

"i was just reading in my bed when i heard your door opening, and then footsteps, so..." he trails off when his eyes wander out towards the living room, seemingly just as taken by the sight as you were just moments ago. "i wanted to make sure everything was okay."

"well, everything is okay, so..."

there's some kind of awkwardness hanging in the air. it's not only because of the obvious uncertainty of what to say or do in this situation; it has more to do with the fact that this isn't the first time that the two of you have found yourselves this close with this much tension, all alone at night. sure, it's a lot like the night of your arrival here, but another memory springs to your mind, too.

just under a month ago, following the after-party in abu dhabi, oscar had accompanied you back to the hotel when you started getting too tipsy to keep yourself up on the dance floor. your brother had been nowhere in sight, so oscar took it upon himself to help you out, draping an arm across your waist before walking you all the way to your hotel room. and when you'd arrived in the dimly lit corridor, you'd turned up towards him to thank him, accidentally brushing your nose against his as you did. both of you had broken out in giggles, neither especially sober, but you stayed close – and when the laughter settled, you just watched each other. when his gaze had flickered between your eyes and lips, your breath hitched in your throat, the anticipation growing stronger. you had leaned in even closer, your eyes fluttering closed-

but just as your lips were about to brush his, you had been interrupted. a door a few meters away had opened and the two of you jumped apart, watching as your brother stepped out and exclaimed that he had been wondering where you ended up. oscar had wished you both a good night before hurrying off, the embarrassment of almost getting caught by his friend being too much for him to handle.

you just hoped oscar had been too drunk to remember it, because otherwise, things were bound to get quite awkward. you didn't want him to act differently around you just because you have feelings for him.

thankfully, he hasn't said or done anything to make you think he does remember it.

as you're thinking back to that night in abu dhabi, you nearly get your second heart attack when the microwave goes off with a loud beep. you scramble to turn it off and take out your milk, almost burning yourself on the hot glass in the meantime.

oscar watches you with an amused grin before he forces his gaze off you, eyes wandering over to the windows again. "quite the view, huh?"

you look over your shoulder at the blanketed mountains. "yeah, it's breathtaking," you reply, before growing quiet.

he pauses for a moment, too. "there's something magical about this place. makes everything seem simpler, quieter..."

you nod. "yeah, it does."

something about the moment makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, the awkwardness between you and oscar isn't as insurmountable as you once thought it would be. the shared quietude is comfortable, and you feel at ease. he hasn't brought up abu dhabi – he probably won't, you feel – and maybe you could both just put it behind you and focus on enjoying your trip.

when you eventually get back in your bed, it's with the same kind of pitter-patter of your heart as when you and charles arrived in the cabin a few days ago. needless to say, the glass of warm milk probably isn't going to help.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 16th, 9:02pm

the mistletoe has moved.

when you first noticed it the other day, it was hanging from a kitchen lamp. and now, it's in the doorframe leading into the living room.

you're planning on avoiding it at all costs, not wanting to slip up and accidentally get under it with the wrong person. or the right one, for that matter. the awkwardness of kissing your crush in front of friends and family would be too much to handle.

some others seem to have the exact opposite attitude towards the decoration, though. kika and pierre can be found by it about ten times per day, and alex and lily have no issues sharing a few kisses whenever they "accidentally" pass it.

no matter what, lando has a mischievous grin whenever anyone mentions it, or even walks near it.

his grin stays on when he decides to let himself be in charge of the outing you all have to the christmas tree farm nearby. the farm is too big and would take too long if everyone was going to look at every tree, so lando divides everyone into groups of two based on who they're standing next to as you walk past the gates.

what a coincidence that you're standing right next to oscar when he says this.

lando ushers the two of you off to the rows with quite tall, pre-decorated trees. "so," oscar starts as you both stop in front of a tree with white lights and ornaments hung all over it. "what do you think about this one?"

"well, it's lovely," you say, scanning it thoroughly. "but isn't the true test how well it fits into the living room?"

he nods, despite his confusion, and he shoots a curious glance your way. "and how do we determine that?"

with a playful grin, you hold up an imaginary measuring tape, pretending to size up the tree with a critical eye. "i'm trying to figure out if it fits this corner best, or..."

he follows your gaze, realizing the tease in your words. "i think maybe it's better in the other corner," he hums and points to the side as you turn a little.

"exactly."

lando never inserted himself into a group; he's too focused on watching the two of you share a lighthearted laugh at the situation. though his mistletoe back in the cabin might still have a trick or two up its metaphorical sleeve, he is already proud of his matchmaking antics.

and, he is sure you'll both crack. it is just a matter of time.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 17th, 1:43pm

"i never thought skiing would be this hard," you groan as you step into a cottage, the warmth enveloping you and beginning to defrost you instantly.

oscar laughs at the exasperated tone in your voice. "this was just the kids' slope, you do remember that, right?" you stick your tongue out at him, slumping down on a bench by a table. "you just wait before you do some real skiing..."

you had never skied before today. oscar had, but he said it was too long ago and that he needed an easy start. plus, he couldn't just leave you all alone in the children's slope without an instructor.

you'd fallen over at least five times, despite the fact that the slope was practically flat. thankfully, oscar promised to buy you some hot chocolate in a cottage café to cheer you up.

when he comes back from the cashier carrying two big, steaming cups of chocolate, you've regained most of the feeling in your fingers again. the hot piece of ceramic almost burns your skin, but you think it's worth it; you need the sugar and you need it now.

"you know what the worst thing is?" you ask, bringing the cup up to your face with both hands. you start sipping on the drink and oscar glances at you with a questioning look as he slips down next to you on the bench. "carrying those goddamn skis with me. not only does it suck to actually ski, but dragging them all the way from the rental shop…"

"if it's that much of a bother, i can carry them for you."

"and carry your own too?" you scoff, watching him flinch as he burns his tongue on the drink. "you're not that strong."

he lets out a groan. "you're not even strong enough to carry your own, so you shouldn't say anything."

"i can carry them!" you protest, shooting him a glare. "i just don't want to. two very different things."

you both go silent momentarily, too busy focusing on how good it feels to no longer be frozen to the marrow. the cabin is filled with people; kids running in circles around the tables, soon to be tired again after the initial sugar shock from their afternoon snack; a group of older ladies gossiping and enjoying getting some rest just like you; and some young adults in the far corner are already busy dancing on the tables with their after-ski drinks in their hands.

"you know what? i changed my mind," you tell him, scooting away from him a little and placing your skiing boot on the bench. "these things. they're the worst."

you start to unclasp the boot, sighing in relief as you finally tug the shoe off your foot, throwing it onto the floor. you've only worn it for about an hour, but you can already feel the bruises beginning to form. you're just about to reach down to undo the other boot, too, when oscar reaches towards your foot.

your eyebrows shoot up as he takes it in his hands, pulling the foot into his lap. and then, his fingers begin to wander up and down your foot and ankle, giving you soft squeezes and pressing down on the spaces where he thinks the boot has squeezed you the most. you hold back a pleasured sound, seeing as it would sound way too inappropriate right now, but oscar subconsciously takes note of how you're getting flushed because he soon looks up at your face.

"is this okay?"

you swallow down the lump in your throat, nodding quickly. "y-yeah… just don't tickle me..."

when did things get so intimate? mere minutes ago, you couldn't think about anything other than how you were so cold your nose was going to fall off. but now, you can't stop your eyes from following his long, sleek fingers, thinking about how good they feel and imagining how good they would feel somewhere else-

"give me your other foot."

you're thankful that he interrupts your train of thought before your mind wanders too far.

compose yourself, woman.

"don't tell me you have a foot fetish, too," you tease, turning around so that you can place your other foot on the bench too. he lets out a hearty laugh, swiftly undoing your other boot before letting it drop to the ground.

"oh, shut it. do you want a massage or not?"

you shoot him pout, giving his shoulder a thankful pat before taking your cup in your hands again. you focus on the drink, watching how the steam rises and the marshmallows melt. you can't look over at him anymore, scared of your cheeks growing too red and your face giving away your feelings.

the bell by the door rings behind you, and you look towards it out of habit. and in comes alex, george, lily and carmen, laughing and chatting loudly about the black slope they just went down. oscar doesn't seem to notice, but you hastily pull your feet from his lap, sitting down properly – unfortunately making eye contact with alex as you do. he leans forward to lily, whispering something in her ear, and you watch as her eyes dart to you and a smirk grows on her lips.

shit.

the clicking of her boots against the stone floor meets your ears and oscar turns his head at the sound, suddenly realizing why you withdrew from him. "hey there," lily cheers, each of her hands landing your and oscar's shoulders. "what have you been up to?"

your eyes meet his briefly, before looking back up at lily. "just... drinking some chocolate..."

"oh, no skiing?"

"she crashed too much, i couldn't keep her out there and let her continue to embarrass me all day," oscar tells her and you shove his shoulder.

"do you mind if we join you guys?" george asks, coming around the table and not even giving you a second to think about it before he sets two cups of chocolate down on the table. the grin he's wearing only tells you one thing: alex told him already. carmen's lips show off a matching set.

"not at all..."

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 10:32am

you huff as you slump down on the living room couch, your mood not even getting brought up by watching the newly installed christmas tree in front of you. you hadn't even been out skiing that much yesterday, yet every single inch of your body aches. not only do you have big, blue bruises on both of your hips due to the many times you've fallen onto the hardly packed snow, but every muscle screams with pain as you drape a blanket over your body. needless to say, you decided to stay at home today instead of heading out with the others for another round.

"are you sure you don't wanna come along?" kika asks as she enters the room, her pretty pink sunglasses perched at the top of her nose. the pout on her lips almost makes you doubt staying in, but when you move to sit up more straight again, you know you've made the right decision.

you nod, giving her a weak smile. "yeah, sorry."

"but oscar promised to come along?"

you freeze, your cheeks growing red as you hear her words.

did she know? about your feelings for him? did the others already tell her about the incident in the cottage yesterday? did they really interpret the situation that way?

"w-what?"

"oh," she chuckles at your reaction. "i just meant that he was so bad yesterday, so i thought that seeing him fall over a couple of times would be worth the pain."

"we're gonna trick him into going down a black slope with us," says pierre who walks into the room, arms lacing around his girlfriend from behind. "we'll send some clips."

you let out a breath of relief as they leave the room. maybe they don't know. maybe your secret will stay secret for a little longer.

the group leaves in pairs or trios and you tell them all goodbye from your place underneath the many blankets. everyone has left by now except for oscar, which confounds you since the others seemed to have so many plans for him. your confusion only grows when he steps into the living room without any skiing gear on, just wearing an oversized, cozy hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"why aren't you out with the others?" you question, your eyebrows raised at him.

"well," he sighs, flopping down next to you on the couch. "i can't find my helmet." when you shoot him a doubting look, he raises his hands defensively. "what?"

"i don't believe it."

"you don't have to, but it's the truth."

"how do you even lose a helmet? it's so big?" you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. "i assumed you were used to keeping track of where your helmet is since if you don't have your helmet with you for races, then you can't race."

"i swear i put it on the drawer by the front door like half an hour ago. i don't understand what could've happened."

you have to give it to him; he is really doing his best to cover this up. you find it pretty obvious that he just doesn't want to ski because of what the others were planning to do to him. but maybe if kika and pierre hadn't spilled their plans already, you would've believed him.

"but hey," he says, bringing you out of your thoughts. "don't feel obligated to include me in whatever you were going to do here now that you finally have the house to yourself." he pushes himself off the couch, standing up and shooting you one last smile before turning to walk away. "i'll let you have some peace."

he takes a couple of steps towards the bedrooms, but then you get the idea. "oscar." he stops in his tracks, throwing a glance back at you. "i was planning on doing some baking, and…" you shuffle slightly in your seat. "it wouldn't hurt to have an extra helping hand."

"i'm a horrible baker, though."

"and i'm the best baker ever, so i guess we cancel each other out." you stand up from your seat, keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders as you make your way toward the kitchen. "let's go make some mediocre cookies!"

oscar shakes his head, grinning to himself as he follows behind you. this was definitely not what he had planned, but he sure is liking the way it's going.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 18th, 8:14pm

oscar had not been kidding when he said he sucked at baking.

he put in twice the needed amount of flour, and only half of the sugar. and as if that wasn't enough, of course the mistletoe had moved to the kitchen, making the whole situation quite uncomfortable as you both had to take strange routes while navigating through the kitchen to avoid it. not even your baking skills could save the cookies.

as an apology, oscar promised to buy some fancy gingerbread cookies tonight at the christmas market you'd all planned to go to in a nearby city. he was strongly set on going through with his promise, despite how many times you told him that it was alright and that they wouldn't taste as good as homemade ones anyway.

you've all been at the market for almost two hours now, but it feels like you've only gone about ten meters. your friends, mainly lando, george and alex, are stopping at every single shop and stand, making sure to check out all products and buying at least one thing in every store, no matter how long the line to the cash register is.

"lando-" you groan at the sight of the brit running into yet another store; this time, a shop filled with christmassy outfits for dogs. "he doesn't even have a pet…"

kika is grinning next to you, shaking her head. "he told me earlier today that he wanted to buy a present for roscoe if he got the chance," she says as most of the group joins lando. "makes more sense than when he bought that screwdriver thirty minutes ago just because it was green."

"the power of 'christmas colors', apparently," you hear oscar's voice from behind you, and you turn back to meet his eyes.

"well, i'm not surprised. just disappointed. and cold, and tired of standing still."

oscar points his head to the side, up the street. "i think i saw a stand a little further up that sells cookies, maybe they have some gingerbread ones."

you nod, a small smile entering your lips. "let's go check it out, then. kika, do you wanna come-"

you're cut off by the sound of pierre calling for his girlfriend, holding up a reindeer costume and blabbering on about how it would be perfect for her cousin's dog. "sorry guys," kika says before strutting off to her boyfriend.

you both shrug before walking down the street towards the stand oscar had spotted. the sugary scent of cookies meets your nose from far away, and your mouth waters at the mere thought of the sweets. when you arrive, a sweet old lady sitting behind the stand greets you and tells you all about the different cookies she's baked. gingerbread, sugar cookies with little candy canes, snowball cookies, and various traditional swiss cookies.

"would you like to have a taste, dears?" the lady asks, pointing her hand to a plate with samples. you and oscar take a gingerbread cookie each, popping it into your mouths.

"oh yeah, this is lovely," he says, looking like he's savoring every crumb.

"much better than ours," you answer, nudging his shoulder with yours. he gasps and places a hand on his chest, feigning offense.

you turn your attention back to the lady and telling her you'd love to buy a little box of cookies from her. oscar pays for them and she wraps the box in some pretty gift paper, handing it to you before you continue making your way down the street. the house walls and all trees are wrapped in christmas lights, some blinking in random colors and some with a soft glow of an elegant white. the streets are filled with people wearing santa hats, ugly christmas sweaters, and scarves so big half of their faces are covered. there's not a single frown in sight, the happiness and love so obvious you can almost see little hearts flowing above everyone's heads.

you glance into a couple of different stores as you stroll, stopping occasionally to check something out. when you reach a stand with different kinds of jewelry, something catches your eye: a golden necklace with a heart-shaped charm hanging from it. you carefully pick it up, your heart fluttering in your chest as you inspect it.

and when you look up at oscar from the necklace in your hands, he feels like the air is stolen from his lungs. your eyes are twinkling with happiness, outshining all lights in the entire christmas market. the excited smile on your lips is contagious, and suddenly, it's like the world around you has stopped and everyone else has disappeared. you're both just grinning at each other like two lovestruck fools, nothing in either of your minds other than the person in front of you. the sight of your rosy cheeks from the cold makes the butterflies in his stomach multiply by the second.

wow, he really is totally and fully whipped.

"really pretty," he finally gets out, unsure if he's talking about the necklace or the woman standing before him.

"pretty? it's gorgeous," you answer, eyes flickering back to the jewelry in your hand. "i adore it. how much is it?"

just as the guy in the booth is about to answer, you feel someone grab your free hand. "come on guys, they're closing down soon and we still have a bunch of shops to visit!" kika is pulling you along so fast you barely have time to put the necklace down.

lily notices the disappointment on your face and pats your shoulder. "we'll come back here sometime before christmas, don't worry."

lando shows you the christmas tree costume he bought as you wander down the market again, but oscar suddenly stops. "guys, i forgot my phone back at the cookie stand. keep walking, i'll catch up with you," he says, pointing behind him with his thumb and disappearing before anyone can say anything.

it's a good excuse, but you clearly see the outline of his phone in his back pocket as he hurries down the street.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 19th, 9:22pm

the days roll on with a gentle rhythm of shared glances and fleeting touches between you and oscar. unbeknownst to both of you, lando, ever the persistent wingman, continues his behind-the-scenes matchmaking efforts.

in some magical way, lando manages to get you and oscar paired up for pretty much anything. board game night? you and oscar just happen to get the exact role cards that make you teammates. time for some ornament decorating? you and oscar are the only ones who don't get a seat on the couch, having to sit on the floor together and share all your materials.

funnily enough, it never gets awkward between the two of you. even when you are left all alone, there is always something to talk about, some dumb thing lando has done that you can tease him about behind his back, or something you are curious about when it comes to his racing career so far. somehow, being with oscar started feeling comfortable, natural, unforced.

one specific night, alex comes up with the idea of playing card games, to which only a few of you are actually interested. some plan on going to bed early so they can hit the slopes first thing in the morning, while others just aren't in the mood. oscar said he would just finish wrapping some christmas presents and join you all later, and you catch yourself feeling disappointed that he's not on the couch next to you, helping you win (or taunting you to make you lose). it surprises you how much you're drawn to him, how it feels like something is missing when he isn't around, when you didn't feel this way just a few days ago.

you try to shake the feeling off, but it's still lingering even as you start playing with your friends. eventually, you excuse yourself to get a glass of water from the kitchen to take your mind off things. but-

just as you round the corner going into the kitchen, your head crashes into something hard. you shriek as you stumble, hands coming up to grab the person in front of you as you lose your balance, but a pair of hands wrap around your back, holding you up. when you look up, you're met with oscar's big brown eyes blinking down at you. "you okay there?"

you let out a relieved breath, nodding at him. "yeah, thanks to you. what were you doing coming around the corner that fast, though?"

he chuckles. "what were you doing not looking where you're going?"

"touché."

your hands are still holding on to the front of his hoodie, and you're about to let go of him and walk away when you notice something in the upper periphery of your vision. something is hanging above you. but, it can't be-

of course it is.

the mistletoe.

oscar looks up just as you do, jaw dropping slightly. "oh..."

"indeed..."

you both keep your vision pointed up, as if the mistletoe would disappear if you just keep on staring at it. oscar's hands slowly begin to slide off your back, and he's hoping you'll both just pretend like none of this ever happened. it would be the least awkward thing to do.

"maybe-" his breath hitches in his throat when you speak up. his gaze is on you again, but you're still looking at the plant. "maybe we should do it. just... for the christmas spirit, you know. i love christmas."

you don't even know what you're blabbering on about. you're trying to improvise a reason to kiss your brother's colleague that makes at least a little sense, but you're completely lost. you realize how dumb you sound, and you expect to see him staring at you like you actually are insane when you look back at him.

but what you don't know is that he thinks it's the best idea ever. he is just as into it as you are, if not more. he doesn't look at you like you're crazy; he's just dumbfounded, blinking at you as he tries to understand what's happening. did the girl he likes really just say they should kiss? because she loves christmas?

oscar gulps, but something in him gives him the courage to nod. "i mean," he starts, voice weak. "what's the harm? it's just... tradition."

"right. yeah, that's exactly what i was thinking."

the tension is higher than ever as your faces are already just inches apart. you aren't sure who should take the initiative and lean in, but before you can overthink it, you're both doing it subconsciously. your noses brush against each other briefly and a little giggle escapes past your lips, and this whole situation feels very familiar. this time, oscar can't hold back anymore, so he closes the gap and presses his mouth to yours.

the kiss is quick, not much longer than a peck, but something changes inside you. when you didn't know what it felt like to kiss oscar, you didn't think too much about it. but now that you have felt his lips on yours, you crave it.

he seems to feel the same way, because when you kiss him again, he's pressing against you instantly. your hands move from his chest to his shoulders as your lips move in sync, tilting your head to get a better angle. oscar's touch travels up and down your sides, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach when your sweater lifts.

oscar takes your bottom lip in between his teeth and you let out a hum, making him grin into the kiss. his tongue swipes between your lips before slipping into your mouth, exploring it for the first, but hopefully not last, time. you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, already growing hot as his hands move down to your butt.

kissing oscar is so easy, so comfortable. it's like you've done it so many times before, like it's what you were made to do.

you're so relaxed and so focused on the kiss that you don't even hear lando's footsteps right next to you, nor his snicker from a few meters away as he picks up his phone to snap a couple of pictures. you don't even hear him strutting away to the living room, nor his loud proclamation to the group: mission complete.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 8:35am

the rest of the days leading up to christmas consist of a lot of sneaking around.

the days are filled with secretive kisses when you're sure no one is watching, fleeting pecks or longer liplocks, hurriedly parting and acting like nothing happened when you hear approaching footsteps. they're filled with soft brushes as you pass each other in hallways, little squeezes of your waist or his arm when someone is around, conveying more than anyone could guess. and they're filled with giant, knowing smiles matching on your lips, with longing gazes and sly winks across the dinner table.

now, his hand is warm in yours despite the freezing temperatures of the air. when you said you forgot your mittens in the cabin, oscar had just smiled, taking off one of his own to give it to you. and to heat your other hand, he intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb stroking the back of your hand as you walked.

you'd slipped out of the house before anyone else had woken up, wishing for a peaceful moment for yourselves. the two of you haven't really had time to properly talk ever since your moment under the mistletoe, and even though it wasn't outspoken, you both knew there were things to be discussed.

you're halfway around the lake when he finally touches on the subject. "so..." he starts, nudging your shoulder with his. "you like me, huh?"

you snicker. "i have for quite some time now, actually."

his hand squeezes yours. "tell me about it."

and when he asks, you tell.

you tell him about seeing him all those years ago, thinking that he was just a pretty face, a good driver, and not much else. you tell him about getting to know him more and more in the last two years and realizing that shit, he's so much more than that. you tell him about the butterflies, about the sneaky glances, about falling for him.

and then, he tells you his side.

he tells you about knowing of you from your first appearances in the f1 paddock, the curiosity in him growing for every picture of you and charles he saw. he tells you about wanting to approach you but not knowing how, not wanting to come off too strong or clingy. he tells you about how nothing has ever been more disappointing to him than charles's timing back in abu dhabi. then, he tells you about how his fingers had secretly been crossed all trip, hoping that lando's attempts to pair the two of you up wouldn't fall through.

you share giggles and smiles as you tell your stories, and it all feels so natural even though it's so new. and you think to yourself that maybe, this won't be so hard to get used to.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 23rd, 5:46pm

"how are things going with oscar?"

lily's voice makes your heart skip a beat. you had just walked into the kitchen to grab a gingerbread cookie, not expecting her to be doing the dishes this late in the evening – and especially not expecting her to ask you something like that. "what do you mean?" you ask back, trying to stay composed as you strut over to the cupboard, reaching into it for the box of cookies.

"are you going to be like... boyfriend and girlfriend now?"

the box slips out of your hands and crashes to the floor before you can catch it again. did you hear her correctly? your eyebrows shoot up and your mouth hangs open as you look at her again. she scoffs.

"oh please, the two of you aren't exactly sneaky," she says, looking back into the sink. "you know, lando took pictures of you under the mistletoe. and we all saw you coming back from your little trip to the lake earlier today."

"oh my god." you cover your face with your hands, letting out a groan. "oh my god. no way."

lily laughs, washing the last few plates under the tap before placing them on the side to drain. "don't worry, we were all in on it."

"and what does that mean?!"

"lando had a plan." of course he did. "we all agreed to help him out. except charles, he's still oblivious."

"what kind of plan?"

"well, just small things here and there, really." she wipes her hands on a towel before turning around and leaning against the counter. "hiding oscar's helmet so he'd have to stay here with you instead of skiing with us. walking really slowly in the market so you'd both get so tired of us that you'd stroll off alone. and the mistletoe, but that's obvious..."

as lily spills the details of lando's plan, you feel a mix of embarrassment and surprise, along with a hint of amusement. you're suddenly very aware of the collaboration that has taken place behind the scenes, and you take a deep breath as you slowly lower your hands from your face.

"so... lando really orchestrated all of this?" you exclaim, still trying to process the fact that your friends have been actively working to bring you and oscar closer together.

lily chuckles, nodding. "yes, and he's been loving every moment of it. we all figured you two needed a little push."

you shake your head in disbelief, a smile playing on your lips despite the initial shock. "what's the endgame here? is lando secretly a matchmaker or something?"

"he wishes," she says with a smirk. "i think he just enjoys playing cupid when he can." she shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. "but hey, it worked out well, didn't it? you and oscar seem pretty cozy."

"yeah, i guess..." the mention of oscar brings a blush to your cheeks. "i just didn't expect to have a whole team of co-conspirators."

lily laughs, stepping forward to pat your shoulder. "it's all in good fun. besides, it's about time something happened between you two." you nod in agreement, smiling at her. "now, spill. how are you feeling about all of this? is he boyfriend material?"

you hesitate for a moment, contemplating your newfound dynamic with oscar. a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "yeah, maybe. we're figuring it out, i guess. it's all been... surprisingly nice."

she grins, satisfied with your response. "well, then, i'd say lando's plan was a success." she backs away, walking towards the kitchen exit. "just enjoy it, okay? and don't be too mad at us. we just wanted to see you both happy."

you nod and watch as she leaves, still processing the directed events that have led up to this moment. as you're left alone, you can't help but smile to yourself at the thought of everything that's happened – and everything that's yet to come.

suddenly, for the first time in your life, you feel thankful for something lando has done. you'll have to remember to thank him later.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 24th, 10:23pm

just a few hours ago, charles was challenged to a snowball fight with the rest of the twitch quartet. and how could he ever say no to them?

for you to fall asleep before he got back would just be stupid, because there's no way he will be able to keep quiet when he eventually he crashes into the room post-fight. so instead, you sit against the headboard of your bed, a thick blanket draped over your body and a good book in your hands as you enjoy the tranquility of the last few moments of christmas eve.

there's a soft knock on the door, one so low you could've just as well missed it. "come in," you call out, looking up from your book as the door creaks open. surprise paints your face as oscar enters the room, his eyes sparkling with the thrill of carrying out a secret mission.

in his hands, oscar holds a beautifully wrapped box, adorned with a crimson bow. "merry christmas."

"oscar, what are you up to?" you ask, laughter dancing in your eyes.

"giving you your present." he sits at your feet, holding out the present to you.

you place your book beside you on the bed, accepting the gift with a curious smile. you unwrap the present, and as you remove the lid of the box and your eyes are met with a necklace, your breath hitches in your throat.

the heart-shaped pendant is familiar – it's the exact necklace you'd eyed in the christmas market. you look up at oscar, a myriad of emotions playing on your face. "i didn't forget my phone," he admits, a hint of vulnerability in his gaze. "i just really wanted to get it for you."

speechless, you delicately trace the edges of the pendant with your fingers. "oscar, i..."

"it's a christmas gift, but you can wear it whenever you want."

you hold the necklace up to him. "like now?"

he nods and takes it from you as you turn around, brushing away your hair so that he can secure the chain around your neck. when you turn back, you catch the glint of admiration in his eyes. "you look beautiful."

you hold the pendant between your thumb and pointer finger, a silent acknowledgment of the connection formed by the gift. "it's perfect, oscar. thank you." you tilt your head, smiling at him. "you're not getting your gift until tomorrow, though."

"just seeing you with this necklace is enough of a present for me. i don't need anything else."

‎‎ ‎‎‎

december 25th, 6:04pm

christmas day morning is for gift exchanges. you all sit around the tree in the living room, giving out presents and sharing the background stories behind the silly little things you've bought each other. you receive a ton of random objects that people had bought that day in the christmas market; objects they bought just to irritate you and oscar. now that you know, you find it quite funny – and seeing charles's confused face as you unwrapped a green screwdriver from lando is definitely one of your highlights of the day.

your present to oscar is, obviously, better planned than most other gifts. beneath the wrapper is a box titled "skiing survival kit" written in big, red letters. in it lies a pair of thick socks (with a note reading "to protect your feet from those horrible boots"), a bag of hot chocolate mix ("for moments when skiing feels too challenging; a little warmth to make everything better"), a bottle of peppermint-scented massaging oil ("you never know when you find yourself in need of a massage..."), and a handwritten letter about how you enjoyed your stay in the cottage much more than the actual skiing and a promise to stay in and warm his chair for him next time he's out "skiing".

then, midday rolls around. the chefs of the group, also known as the few people who don't burn everything they attempt to cook, take their time to make a good dinner. in the meantime, the rest of you prepare some games and competitions, including a trivia, a snow fort building competition, and a gingerbread house-decorating contest that ended in lando letting his competitiveness get the best of him. safe to say that no other gingerbread houses were still standing, other than lando's, meaning the brit won by default. his price: getting thrown in the snow in just his pyjamas.

and the evening? it's dedicated to a movie marathon, as per russell family traditions.

it has all been planned into the finest detail; the couch in the living room is decorated with blankets and pillows, nearly every bowl in the house is filled to the brim with snacks, and mattresses and pillows on the floor for those who don't fit on the couch. everyone was included of the vote of what movie you were going to see, though you had a feeling george had cheated when you were told the 'home alone' series won. especially since it's the one series he hasn't been able to stop talking about wanting to watch all trip.

you're settled on the edge of the couch, a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest. you're laughing along with something kika has said from right next to you when you hear a beep from the kitchen, indicating that the last bag of popcorn was ready. you assumed lando would be getting up to fetch it, seeing as he was the one who insisted you needed one more bag, but when your eyes find him, he sits very contently and comfortably a few seats away. he looks back at you, eyebrows rising as you make eye contact.

"hey, you're the closest to the kitchen," he says, nodding his head in your direction. "go get them."

he isn't wrong, but he still makes no sense. "no way, norris."

he pouts. "please, be quick so we can start the movie already."

"you suck."

he sticks out his tongue at you but you've already walked off. when you return, a new bowl filled with popcorn in your arms, you aren't exactly surprised to see lando in the seat that used to be yours. you shoot him a glare, to which he answers, "i could barely see the tv from where i was sitting!"

"oh, but you think i'll be able to?" you scoff at the way he shrugs his shoulders, seemingly to say that it's now none of his business. and when you look at his old seat, you are even less surprised to see who's sitting right next to it.

oscar is looking up at you, confusion mixing into his features. he's been scrolling on his phone for the last few minutes and didn't notice when his teammate left him alone.

neither of you complain when you slip into lando's old spot, though. oscar immediately grabs the blanket in his lap and drapes it over you too. you shuffle closer to him as the movie turns on, the soft fabric of his pyjama pants brushing against yours. the bowl of popcorn is propped up on your lap, and when you reach into it to grab a handful, it touches something warm. you rip your eyes from the tv to see your hand brushing against oscar's. of course.

considering the other touches and kisses you've shared these last few days, it's not even a very intimate action. and yet, something about it leaves both of you giggling.

"so many clichés this trip, huh?" he says, eyes flickering between your hands and your face.

instead of answering, you grab his hand in yours. your fingers slip in between his easily, as they've done so many times these last few days, but you pull your hands underneath the blanket to keep them out of sight from everyone else.

it's a good movie, but it's easy for you to zone out when you feel oscar's hand squeeze yours. neither of you can really stay away from the other, inching closer as the movie progresses and stealing little cheek kisses when everyone is focused on the most exciting scenes. and when you start to grow a little tired, your head instinctively lands on his shoulder as you let out a little yawn. oscar desperately has to hold himself back from cooing at you, feeling so soft and prideful that you're leaning on him, and he settles for leaning his own head on you.

you both think you're being subtle, but everyone in the room understands what's going on. even charles, who has now been let in on what's happened between you and oscar after he walked in on lando telling alex about how cute the new couple in the house looked walking around the lake, can't take his eyes off the two of you. as your older brother, he feels like he should be doing something or saying something to protect you. he wonders what his role should be here – aren't brothers supposed to scare their sisters' boyfriends away?

but charles realizes that oscar isn't an enemy. in this moment, you look so peaceful, so content; like you've found the the long-lost puzzle piece to make you complete. how could he possibly interrupt that?

‎‎ ‎‎

december 25th, 11:28pm

charles is still fast asleep on the couch when you slip into oscar's room after the movie has ended, fingers intertwined and your laughter mixing as he pulls you along to his bed. his hands find your hips as he sits down on the edge of the bed, urging you to lower yourself onto his lap, and you happily oblige.

"look up," he says, and when you do, you're not surprised by what's hanging in the roof.

the mistletoe.

"oh," you start, looking back at him. last time you found yourself underneath the mistletoe with oscar, you had been more nervous than ever before. but this time, it isn't as scary. this time, you're able to shrug, a teasing grin forming on your lips. "i guess we should kiss, then. just for the christmas spirit, you know."

his lips are curved into a big smile. "oh, i do know." one of his hands comes up to tuck some hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in his palm. "it's because you love christmas."

you can't hold back from giggling, and neither can he, both of you leaning in to seal your lips. your first encounter underneath the mistletoe was hesitant, but it feels like that was ages ago, in another lifetime. now, with his lips pressing against yours, it feels like it's all you've known.

he's so gentle with it, his kisses delicate and tender, and your heart flutters at the feeling. his hands land on your waist as your arms wrap around his neck, scooting in even closer. when your crotch brushes against him, he involuntarily lets out a moan into your mouth, and you stop for a moment to pull away. both your eyes and his are wide as you look at each other, and oscar doesn't know what to say. his mind is racing, not sure if you thought that was awkward or too soon or-

"that's so fucking hot," you say, and he finally exhales. you kiss him again, speaking against his lips. "wanna hear more."

he has no problems letting out more sounds when you keep up your actions, your hips rolling down on him rhythmically. his hands find the hem of your sweater and slip inside, instantly roaming your sides. his cold touch tickles, and when his fingers move along your waist, you can't help but giggle against his lips. he laughs along with you, but he only does it to match you. he's dumbfounded when you part from him and you grab his wrists to make him halt.

"you're too cold," you start, a bit breathless already. "it's-"

"are you really that ticklish?" he chuckles, fingers running up and down your sides again to test you, and his heart melts when you throw your head back, laughing. "oh come on, how am i supposed to do this if i can't touch you?"

"warm your fingers next time and we should be fine."

"next time, huh?" a combination of a smirk and a grin plays on his lips. "planning ahead?"

"well, it depends on how well you perform tonight." he sticks out his tongue at your taunting tone. "just take it off already, will you?"

oscar happily obliges, pulling the material off you before reaching for his own sweater, throwing them both onto the floor. his eyes stick to your chest, to the soft, red bed bra holding up your breasts, and he feels himself growing harder instantly, because this is so much better than he'd imagined. you can't exactly complain about what your eyes are met with, either; oscar's toned chest and his broad shoulders are basically calling out for you to come and press your lips to them. or sink your teeth in them. probably both.

he gives you a few quick kisses before his hands land on your hips and he flips you both around, laying you onto the covers. his lips meet the skin below your ear, and then travel down the side of your neck. he hears your breath hitch in your throat when he finds a spot you enjoy particularly much, making sure to memorize it for the future. and when his kisses trail even further down, they meet something hard and metallic. when he leans back, he realizes that you're wearing the necklace.

he didn't notice it until now, since he was too busy being mesmerized by your breasts earlier; but now, he can't take his eyes off it. the little heart charm rests just above your actual heart, and something about seeing it makes his heart flutter. the necklace he bought for you, the one that makes you think of him and only him. it's like you're already tagged as his.

"cute," he whispers to himself, placing a long kiss right on top of the heart. he can feel your real heart beating underneath his lips, fast but not really enough, and he can't wait to make you feel like it's pounding out of your chest.

he starts placing open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands finding the waistband of your sweatpants.

"you okay with me taking these off?" he asks, parting from your skin to watch you nod your head. he pulls the material down your body, smiling when your underwear comes into sight. they're not a pair of lacy lingerie or victoria's secret-lookalikes, but just a regular pair of panties in a deep green color with little candy canes. his eyes flicker between your bra and your panties. "green and red, huh?"

"well, what can i say?" you smile. "i love christmas." he giggles, and so do you, as he leaves your pants somewhere on the floor before moving further down your body. when his hands near the fuzzy socks with little cartoon santas dressing your feet, you're quick to speak. "those stay on, though."

"oh, is that so?"

"gotta make sure you're not just doing this for that foot fetish you might or might not have." a laughter erupts from his chest. "i've had too much of that recently."

"well, i don't have one, so i don't mind you keeping them on." he moves up on the bed again, fingers reaching the hem of your underwear. "but i can take these off, right?"

"things would get kinda tricky otherwise, i'd say,” you tease, but oscar merely blinks up at you with raised eyebrows.

"tricky, yes. but not impossible."

you shake your head, a grin making its way onto your lips. "next time, oscar."

and there it is again. next time. the way you say it so casually, like there's no doubt in your mind that there will be another time, that you'll do all of this again.

yet again, instant boner.

your panties are off in a second, and he doesn't waste any time before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. his hand takes care of your other thigh, thumb brushing up and down your skin, as your lips travel closer and closer to where you want him the most.

you suck in a breath when you feel his warm breath against your core. his tongue meets your clit and your eyes flutter closed, one of your hands reaching down to entangle in his hair. as his tongue draws circles around your bud, one of his hands leaves your thigh, a finger swiping along your wet folds before pushing slowly into you. you don't know which sensation to focus on, both growing stronger and pushing you closer to your limit every passing second. when he's pumped you a couple of times, he adds another finger and then another, pushing deep into you. his fingers curling inside of you makes you pull on his hair even harder, your mind growing hazy and your breaths shorter.

"o-oscar," you let out, subconsciously buckling your hips towards him in hopes of creating more friction. "i'm so clos-"

you're cut off by the combination of a moan and a whine that leaves your lips when his tongue flicking your clit speeds up. "come for me, sweetheart," he tells you, his voice sending vibrations against your core.

your legs shake around him as you completely let go, feeling the climax wash over you just moments after his order. your free arm drapes over your face, covering your eyes in your arm as you try to catch your breath. oscar continues lapping you up, helping you ride it out, also licking his fingers clean before letting his hands caress your sides soothingly. he's unsure whether his fingers are warm enough now to not tickle you, or if you're just too busy coming down from your high to even realize you should feel ticklish, but he smiles at the thought nonetheless.

"everything alright up here?" oscar asks as he moves up to your face again, one of his hands prying the arm off your face. you slowly open your eyes, your hazy gaze meeting his loving one and you can't help but to cup his face in your hands. you pull him down to your lips, lazily lacing them together. he pulls away just enough for his lips to still brush yours when he speaks. "i'll take that as a yes."

you're quick to nod, but even quicker to connect his lips with yours again, not wanting to be apart for even a second.

your hands slide down his neck and the front of his body, loving the feeling of his strong muscles under your touch. your fingers reach down to the edge of his pajama pants, and you let out a chuckle when you notice the ever-growing tent in them. "don't laugh at me," he starts, biting down on your bottom lip as a warning. "you're so hot, how could i not get this hard?"

"oh, shut it," you say, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. "just take them off, will you?"

"as you wish."

as he shuffles off the bed and pulls off his own pants, plus his boxers along with them, you take the time to reach behind you and unclasp your bra, letting it slide down your arms and off the bed. when he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a condom, you raise your eyebrows. "oh, so you were planning this?"

he shakes his head as he climbs on top of you again. "i was hoping, not expecting. those are two very different things." he removes the wrapper and throws it onto the table, rolling the condom onto himself. "do you need anything? or-"

"just you."

oscar presses his smile to yours, kissing you like he has no rush in the world, like he just wants to savor this moment with you. "well then," he says against your lips, nudging his dick against your entrance. "i have to give the lady what she wants, don't i?"

you can't control the whine that slips into his mouth when he pushes into you. you thought you were ready for him, but he's so big and he stretches you out so perfectly. he pauses once he's slipped entirely into you, his lips finding a spot below your ear as he allows you to get used to him. your pussy is throbbing already, still sensitive from just minutes ago, and the little involuntary clenches around him make oscar grow more and more eager.

when he finally starts moving, you drape your arms around his shoulders for stability. his thrusts are slow but deep, and yet you desperately want more of him. you hook a leg over his hip, the other following soon after, and you gasp at the way he bottoms you out completely. one of his hands comes up to squeeze your breast, thumb flicking over the nipple as his pace speeds up. the sounds you make and the way your legs squeeze him close makes him feel like he could cum anytime, but he tries to hold back because he needs to see you fall apart beneath him for the second time tonight.

"oscar..." you cry out when his free hand slides down your body, a finger coming in contact with your clit again.

"just a little more, love." his thrusts have grown sloppy and his figures on your bud aren't exactly perfect, but it's good enough for your orgasm to hit.

your back arches off the bed, your chest pressing into his as you nuzzle your face into the side of his neck to hide your moans. when your walls tighten around him, he reaches his high too, his body shaking as he rides it out. your heart is about ready to jump out of your chest when he collapses onto you, both of you trying to catch your breaths. "holy fuck," oscar starts, his breath warm on your skin. "that was amazing. you feel amazing." you try to gather energy to speak, fingers getting lost in his curls. "you taste amazing, too. better than any christmas dinner."

you give him a weak slap to his shoulder. "shush."

"it's true!" he pushes himself back a bit, mouth hanging in mock offense. "this was the best present i could've ever wished for."

"the necklace is higher on my list, though."

oscar pauses for a moment. "i'm not sure if i should feel proud or offended."

you snicker. "i was hoping for the latter," you tease, but regret it the moment oscar's hands find your waist, fingers dancing along it and tickling you yet again. the squeal you let out does nothing to halt his actions, and he doesn't even budge when you try to push him away by his shoulders. "i was kidding!"

"apologize. now."

his fingers still working their way on your skin make it almost impossible for you to speak again, but you do your best to take a deep breath. "i'm- i'm sorry! oscar- stop it!"

he finally stops, and you finally get to breathe. "i'll go get a wet towel," oscar says, pulling away from you and giving you one last glance. he almost doesn't leave the bed when he looks at you, though – he finds the sight almost too good to be true. your rosy cheeks, the dreamy smile on your lips, your hair spread out on the pillows. he's scared that if he leaves you, maybe the spell will be broken and he'll realize all of this has just been a dream. because that's just how this all feels: surreal.

but it is real, and he can't wait to have you like this in his bed again.

‎‎ ‎‎

december 26th, 12:56pm

packing up after a good trip is always a bittersweet affair. realizing that you have the real world waiting for you, your actual lives with responsibilities and obligations, and that you can't just stay in this fairytale forever – this moment was definitely not something you looked forward to.

you and charles need to get back to monaco to celebrate christmas with your other brothers and your mother, before he needs to go away for pre-season work again. you're meticulously folding up your clothes, zipping up bags and exchanging smiles as you reminisce on memories of the week.

but, things are different this time. you know that the magic of this trip isn't going to stay here – in one way or another, you'll bring some of it with you back to your real life.

oscar.

you've already made plans to meet up after new years, and even when he's busy with work, you know that you'll at least see him during every race weekend. neither of you are ever more than a flight, or a call, away, and you just can't wait to see where this all takes you.

"so... oscar, huh?" charles's voice breaks the silence, his eyes glancing in the direction of your open door that lets in the sound of oscar's voice from the living room.

"hm? what about him?" you reply, trying to hold back the smile threatening to adorn your lips when you hear his name.

charles cocks an eyebrow at you. "you and him... kind of obvious." he gazes towards your bed. "besides, your bed is made. you didn't sleep here last night."

"well, i-" you start, but charles interrupts with a knowing chuckle.

"relax, i'm not going to be a police. just..." he shows off a sweet smile. "enjoy it."

with a nod and a shared understanding, you both continue packing, an unspoken acknowledgment hanging in the air. the group gathers to bid you farewell by the front door, and gratitude fills your heart as you exchange goodbyes with your friends. you grow especially soft when lando pulls you into a hug, a cheeky grin on his lips. "thank you," you whisper, giving his cheek a quick peck to really convey how much you appreciate everything he's done this holiday. he just squeezes you back, telling you not to worry about it.

finally, as you turn to say your farewell to oscar, the atmosphere shifts and the group watches with amused anticipation. "until next time," you say, your eyes holding a promise that transcends the physical distance.

"until next time," he repeats, smiling as you engulf him in a tight hug.

you pull away just enough for your ear to brush against his ear, your voice low. "charles knows, by the way."

"w-what?" his eyes widen for a moment, flickering between you and your brother – but then realization dawns. "well, in that case..."

before you can react, oscar pulls you closer again. he presses a goodbye-kiss on your lips, right there in front of everyone, and the group erupts into cheers.

and the loudest of them all? lando, of course. "if i'm not the best man at your wedding, i'll never forgive you guys."

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA ATSUMU x FEM READER

Being hot at the grocery store should be illegal.

wc — 800

tags — grocery store meet cute, set in the same universe as the way to the heart is through the stomach

“There is an attractive man on the other side of the grocery aisle,” you hiss at Kiyoko. Your roommate had dragged you out for a grocery run, but as the person who forced you out of the comfort of your home, she could stand to be a little nicer to you. 

Instead, she raises an eyebrow; her face conveying utter disdain, confusion, and slight pity at all once. It’s a little impressive, honestly. 

She peeks between the cracks in the shelves. Looks at you. Looks at the man. Looks at you again. She makes a motion that could be what are you waiting for or let the grandma pass so she can get her multivitamins. 

Sometimes it’s complicated when it comes to Kiyoko. She’s not great at talking without words. It’s because she’s spoiled. Must be nice to have a boyfriend who loves you so fully you don’t have to try to be understood, you think with a hint of jealousy. 

Then, she pushes you towards the other aisle in a gesture that’s unmistakable. 

“Kiyoko!” You’re appalled. “You’re not making me go over there. I’m wearing my pajamas!” 

Your pajamas are grey sweats with multiple suspicious stains from ketchup or blood or some other substance. You’re not sure. That’s why it’s suspicious. 

“Okay? He looks worse,” she says. Notably, she doesn’t tell you that you look fine. 

She probably thinks that’s reassuring. It’s not. 

The fact that he’s also in his pajamas and still looks hot is infuriating. 

And very sexy. 

Terribly so. 

“Just go talk to him,” she says. “You know if you don’t you’ll be thinking about him for days, anyway.” 

“I will not!” 

“Excuse me,” says the hot stranger, who in the time that you spent arguing with Kiyoko, has suddenly moved behind you. “Do ya mind?” 

He’s gesturing at the package of cereal behind you. 

You freeze. How did he move so quietly? And had he heard the conversation between you two? 

“Hello?” He waves his hand in your face - a little rudely. That deducts one point from his overall hotness score. You scramble away, giving him access to the shelf. 

“This is my favorite brand,” he says conversationally, “but my brother got a girlfriend lately, and every time she comes to our apartment she eats all of mine. I’ve told her not to like six million times! And he’s a chef! Why are ya even eatin’ processed junk if ya can get yer professional chef of a boyfriend to make ya whatever ya want? He’s so whipped, I swear.” 

“Aren’t- aren’t you also eating processed junk, then?” You say with trepidation.

He brushes you off with a “No, that’s different.” 

He’s…a little weird. Who just talks to a stranger like that? You have to admit that confidence is attractive - even if you’re not sure if it’s confidence or narcissism as he continues. 

“So, like. Are ya going to ask me out or what?” 

You choke on your own spit. He had overheard. There would be no better time for one of these shelves to fall on you and crush you instantly.

“Woah!” Says the hot stranger, who still hasn’t told you his name before commanding you to ask him out. “Ya okay?” 

He slaps your back as you wheeze for breath - hard. Is he an athlete in his spare time? How does anyone have that kind of arm strength? 

“I-“ You shut your mouth because actually, you don’t know what to say. How do you respond to that? 

“Come on,” says Mr. Bad Bleach Job. “I heard ya and yer little friend talking about me all the way down the aisle. I know you want in on this sexy ass.” 

He’s ridiculous. Are you - are you into that? You’re seriously reevaluating your mental health even as you say, almost to your own surprise, “Can I take you on a date?” 

He wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Can ya make it a little more romantic?” 

“Why don’t you ask me out if you’re going to be so demanding?” You challenge. 

“Sure,” he says easily. “Wanna go out? We can get fancy sushi for fun and eat McDonald’s after cause that’s real food.” 

Even you can’t tell if the noise that escapes you is a laugh or a sigh. What have you gotten yourself into? 

“Whatever,” you say, handing him your phone. “I think mine was better.” 

“They both kind of sucked. 5/10 for execution, -2 for sheer cringe, -3 for awkwardness.” 

“Kiyoko, read the room.”

[thefuseoftemptation]

wrong number

'you get a phone call and find out it's a wrong number but realize that you don't want to stop talking to the person at the other end. come to find out, he's from another decade.’

eddie munson x reader/ eddie munson x gn!reader

warning(s): cursing, au (not sure if it would be considered an au but imma put it), mention of modern time. I'm just putting tags I'm not even sure what to tag this under. lmk if there are more.

a/n: prompt # 4 from the strangerprompts by @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing and @bettyfrommars. mkay, I've never done these types of things or participated before, but yknow, I took a shot and I liked it lol so thank you guys!

—

"What?"

Your voice was nothing short of clipped. The results of hearing your phone vibrate too many times for you to tolerate another call going unanswered.

It was abnormal in your opinion. To receive this many calls from the same number within a short time.

While sure, you occasionally complained about the lack of service that came through the device due to your inability to actually hold a relationship with anybody, much less a conversation, this isn't what you were looking for.

And if your shortness wasn't clear enough before, your annoyance must've been by the way you questioned a 'hello,' with a lifted brow. Not really saying it as one should when normally speaking to someone. That was, if anyone was even on the other side.

"Uh, hello." The voice imitated your previous tone, pulling out the last vowel as he sung it.

He.

If you had to guess, probably no more than your age.

"Huh, so you can speak? You know you could've begun with that? When someone picks up the phone after being called, who knows how many times," you state through your teeth, "the least you could do is have the decency to actually say something when they answer."

"Y’know I don’t like your tone, we’re going to try this again.” He mouthed.

“Wait, what? No-”

He hung up before you could refuse. Your phone pulled away from your ear as your mind tried to catch up with what just happened. And in the midst of that, your phone vibrated, again.

Your finger hovered over the button as you eyed the device, sliding it over when you’d been staring long enough.

“Hello?” You questioned, unsure. The shift in your tone is clearly obvious.

“You learn quickly.”

The same voice replied back, and his response had you narrowing your eyes.

Asshole.

“I had said it before. You were the one who needed the lesson in how to answer back.” You reiterate.

“Well, m’not about to respond to somebody who starts a conversation with 'what.' I mean, have you no manners?" The guy said. You could hear the lilt in his voice and how he seemed to be grinning on the other side, but you had to shake your head from thinking any further on it because there was still a question that you'd been meaning to ask.

"Who are you?"

"It's your conscience, clearly I haven't been able to get through to you which is why you're probably lacking, well, manners, but- worry not, for I am here."

You weren't sure if it was you still trying to comprehend everything that's happened in the last few minutes, or that this guy knew how to pull conversation so easily that you went along with it- but you hadn't even realized he never properly answered or that he just lowkey called you out on something you knew was evident to a blind person.

And you didn't even correct him, and rather than just hang up on someone you didn't know, you stayed on the phone and chose to enlighten him.

"Hm, so that's what that was? Who would've thought I'd have one of those," you sighed and shrugged, leaning back against the bed frame. You could hear him snort at the small insult you'd given yourself, hearing the feign in your voice was enough to let him know your humor was in tack.

It made you grin. The first of many, and the first in a while to tell the truth. You also couldn't stop yourself from thinking about how this was probably the longest conversation you've ever held with someone.

"I'm Eddie." His voice pulled you from your thoughts, trying to catch up in the moments you'd been away.

"Huh?"

You could hear chuckling before it was repeated. "My name. You asked me who I was."

Eddie.

It didn't sound familiar. You didn't know anyone named Eddie, but then again, you didn't really know anyone and you had questioned it when you guy's began talking. It was a number you'd never seen before either so there was that.

You hadn't realized you'd been quiet until Eddie spoke.

"Y'know, this is where you tell me your name." He remarked. "We really gotta work on your communication skills and social cues." Unbeknownst to you though, since you only just met the guy, he shouldn't be one to talk.

You let out something between a scoff and a breathy chuckle before telling him yours. And Eddie repeated what you did moments ago- saying your name under his breath, to himself- as if he was worried he'd forget it in those few seconds.

It was easy to get into conversation with him, primarily because he kept pulling you into things he’d knew would get a response out of you. Like saying shit that you’d end up reprimanding him for because it annoyed you.

He knew that, and you weren’t so sure you liked how transparent you seemed to be. You’d known him for only a short time and he already knew how to push your buttons. Which you told him but his response was anything but what you expected it to be. He simply shrugged it off, telling you that ‘you let it get to you.’

To which you rebutted fully knowing he was right, which annoyed you more. Though other than that, the conversation between you two had been decent.

There were a few times when you had been confused by what he’d been speaking about, but you just assumed it was the way he was. I mean, the guy spent- you’re guessing- most of his time today calling the wrong number, only to hang up on you just to call you again because he didn’t like your tone. And then went on to call you out on your shit, which by the way, you still haven’t let go of. Either way, you just thought that what he was talking about, was how he spoke. A sort of slang, you know? I mean, now, that’s all people use these days.

Who were you to question it? It’s not like you could ask anybody what it meant. You weren’t even sure what the words were yourself. I mean you did but nobody said that sort of thing anymore.

There were a few moments of silence that occurred, mainly between your guys' turns in speaking. It wasn’t until you heard him on his end that you asked what he’d been up to. He kept muttering something under breath.

Well, it was more him humming, every other minute or so though you’d hear a word, and the more he hummed- the more familiar it sounded.

“Is that…..Metallica?” You peeked, unsure if you were right. His side went quiet the second you said it, and you could assume it was because you were likely wrong in your guess.

“Y-You know Metallica?” Eddie enounced. He was standing upright, his previous stance of leaning on the frame gone, as he stood there with wide eyes and mouth agape at your sudden query.

So you were right.

“Uh, yes.” It came out sounding like a question rather than you stating the obvious. “My Uncle used to listen to them. Whenever he came over when I was younger, that was all I’d ever hear. He’d tell us he grew up on them, so it was only right that we did too.” You explained. Eddie’s mouth stretched up at hearing your words, too caught up in the recognition you had for one of his favorite bands, for him to even comprehend what you just said.

“I’ve never-” and then it hit him. His brows pinched together as he pulled the phone away from his ear. Did he hear you right?  “Wait…grew up on them?” If it hadn’t been for the way you told the story, as if it actually happened, he would’ve thought you were pulling his leg. And you probably were so he just reacted logically. He chuckled. “Mkay, right right.” 

It was your turn to pinch your face together, not understanding his sudden shift or why he was chuckling to begin with. “What? It’s true. The man grew up on them.” You raised, still clearly confused by his response.

“Mhm, sure.” You could hear the way he pulled the word, like he wasn’t convinced at all. Why was it so hard for him to get that what you were saying was true? “He’d have to be my age, kid.” He voiced.

W-What? 

“Excuse me?” You uttered, sitting up from your bed frame. Not only were you confused but you were getting a little freaked out. He sounded young, your age, give or take. There was no way you had been conversing with a guy in his 50’s.

“You heard me, he’d have to be my age. There’s no way this guy grew up on them. The band isn’t even that old, it hasn’t been that long. I mean, I get we were joking before but man, you really got me there. I almost fell for it!” Eddie said. “How old are you?” He managed through his breathy laughs.

You could feel your heart pick up, the genuineness clear in his voice. He really thought you were joking, that everything you just said in the last few minutes was made up. But it hadn’t been and that’s what had you getting up from your bed. This was beginning to be too much for you.

“E-Eddie, what are you talking about? You’re freaking me out.”

And suddenly it wasn’t so amusing anymore. His face fell upon hearing your tone. The humor he once found in the situation, now gone, as he stared ahead. You sounded worried, alarmed even. It was quiet for a few seconds until he spoke, his tongue swiped his bottom lip before he did so.

“Uhm, look t-this isn’t-” his hand wiped down his face. “W-What are you talking about, man? One minute we're laughing and joking around and the next you’re telling me about your Uncle growing up on Metallica. There’s no way! Mkay?” He was getting agitated, visibly shaken up as he thought about you on the other side in the same state. “Like I said, the band isn’t even that old. It's only been a couple of years, it’s 1986 for christ sake!” And though he had been saying it all so fast, you still understood them. It’s why you felt yourself unable to move upon hearing his last few words.

1986. 

The numbers repeated over and over in your head as you stood there. 

“W-What?” You stuttered, voice shaky as you asked. It wasn’t possible. “It’s not!” You raise, your hands moving with a mind of their own as you swiped out of where you were and looked at the screen. In the corner of your phone, the current date stared back. The time you were currently in. As in, right now. You could hear Eddie speaking but because you didn’t have it against your ear, you couldn’t tell what exactly he’d been saying.

It’s not possible, it's not possible, it’s not.

He said it like it was true. He didn't just think it was 86', he was saying it like he knew it was. It was just impossible, the year he said, wasn’t the year you were in.

You lifted the phone back up to your ear, hands unable to keep still as you look ahead. Your eyes glassy as you spoke.

“Who are you?”

Eddie’s breath picked up at the way you questioned it, your voice at a whisper. He ran his hand through his hair again, already disheveled from how many times he’d done it prior to when you went quiet.

“I told you. My name is Eddie....and it's 1986."

Your eyes shut as he uttered his name, the lack of deceit evident.

—

a/n: I wasn't sure how to end it.

feedback and reblogs are appreciated.

[ebonyslasher]

Hello! May I request a black noir x supe!reader where the reader is secretly apart of The Boys. Also maybe where the reader manages to get black noir to safely before Homelander can come and kill him? Maybe the reader finds out from hugie (pretty sure he was there when solder boy told Homelander he was his dad?? Don’t really remeber though) that Homelander found out that solder boy is his dad and probably going after black noir? Please and thanks!

Hey! I made up the supe powers for this specific situation since you didn't specify.

Span is from a couple of months before season four to after.

The Almost Last Moment

After years of trying and IVF treatments, you future mother finally got pregnant. During early first trimester, your parents selfishly allowed doctors to inject compound V in fetus that formed into you. You were born their literal miracle baby. However, the only power that was apparent was your slight super strength when you were a toddler. Hoping for much more, they were disappointed.

As you grew, your true powers developed. The most exciting power that your parents were actually proud of was your portal making. Admittedly, it was fun jumping to and from anywhere in the world. Especially when you got some birthday money. What 10 year old wouldn't transport themselves to the candy store?

Another ability that you had was tying your aura to another. How they felt, what they felt, and why they felt would flow into the channel that you picked at. You could form the channel with anyone, but it was strongest with emotional attachment. However, if someone felt emotions strong enough, you didn't need a connection to feel them. Your parents didn't care too much about that one, but you thought it was useful.

The idea of being a supe was entertained for about 3 months out of your entire life. Your parents, although not sincerely encouraging, wanted the taste of fame and auditioned you for...well you didn't really know. All you did know what that your powers weren't "popular" aka not profitable enough to be on the forefront. Forget about being a part of The Seven. They offered some ads since you were pretty, but you declined. It didn't feel right, the commercialization of heroes.

Your parents were disappointed in your decision. Their standoffish behavior after pissed you off. If being a hero was just brand deals and politics, then they could do it themselves, since they wanted it so badly. Distancing yourself from them as an adult, you decide to stay low, attempting to live a normal life. The disappointment you had in other "heroes" furthered after observing the way they treated non-supes. So, it was no surprise that you joined The Boys after seeing a supe kill someone just to heighten their coke high.

The little rag-tag group had some interesting characters. What was very interesting was the allies they had within The Seven: Starlight and Mauve. The latter you had briefly met, along with A-Train, at your audition years ago.

Although The Boys represented powerful and much needed justice for non-supes, the work and aura was quite overwhelming. Needing an escape, you began volunteering at animal shelters in your free time. It made you feel good and wholesome, and gave you some much needed space.

This is where you, surprisingly, caught Black Noir's attention. He would go to the shelters to volunteer himself. It looked good for his image and he got to see cute animals. Black Noir noticed you coming in frequently and he became enthralled with your beauty and compassion. Every time you were there, he was there watching from afar. He came up to you one day and stared you down before lightly petting the bunny in your hand. It was...quite awkward to say the least. Him silently doing this and then abruptly leaving.

A nearby worker made an off hand comment that he comes in every week to spend time with the animals, sometimes showing them to children. How sweet. The next time you saw him, you approached, butterflies forming in your stomach. A beautiful relationship blossomed from there.

Although The Boys and The Seven's relationships was in hell, your relationship with Black Noir was heaven. God, he was perfect. Black Noir was such a gentleman. So polite, sweet, and dorky. His awkward habits were downright adorable. It pained you to keep your tie to The Boys a secret. It was apparent how loyal Black Noir was to Vought. You wished he wasn't so loyal to them. It'd make your job a whole lot easier with taking Homelander down.

As the relationship grew deeper, you couldn't help but blend your aura with his. This man is so damn stable. He would flicker through many emotions, like all humans did, but dealt with them head on. He was never afraid to feel things through. You were a bit jealous, but pleased he was emotionally healthy.

His stability was pretty consistent until you felt a sharp pang of paranoia, fear, and dulled pain one day. It shocked you into worry, immediately calling him. He never picked up. You continuously call and to no avail. This feeling of your own panic swept your legs to look for him, but...you couldn't find him. You tried your best to tap into the aura to locate him but the anxiety and paranoia severely dented your focus.

Not long later, Hughie and Butcher continued their escapades with Soldier Boy in hopes of finding his old teammates. You jumped up at the opportunity to join, stating that you'd be useful with your portal ability. Thankfully, they allowed it. It was during the fight with Windstorm when you felt a stronger pulse from the connection. You silently wandered off, using a portal to his location.

You find him, coming out of an abandoned building. Before you could call out, he leaves with quick determination. You try to catch up, deciding to silently follow him. Some time later, he walked right into Vought. Damn. You couldn't just walk right in. And you needed to get back to Butcher.

Your portal led your way back to the team just in time. You used your powers to help Soldier Boy kill his old teammate. Hughie turns to you with a questioning look but you trudge forward so he wouldn't ask anything.

It's an hour or so later when you decide to break into Vought using a portal. You stepped through, tapping into the connection to see how Black Noir felt. He was hopeful, happy, and focused with an underlying thrum of worry. Your shoulders relaxed as you finished stepping through the portal, into the hallway near a conference room. You see some movement and decide to peer around the corner. It was Black Noir and Homelander.

Homelander was speaking to him, going on about how he was able to see through the mask Black Noir had. How he knew what emotions Black Noir was feeling and what he looked like. As he started to speak about him having a father, you could feel some odd emotion welling up in the atmosphere. It wasn't coming from Noir, as you quickly tapped to check. It was coming from Homelander. The feeling was strong, with the air of slight sadness and animosity building quickly as he approached Black Noir. Homelander grabs onto Black Noirs' neck gently and asks,

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He makes this weird grimace and those intense emotions move onto new heights. You knew something bad was going to happen. You start to move when you see Homelanders' free arm move back. Quickly, you create a small portal. Homelander's hand goes through to portal instead of Black Noir.

Black Noir quickly looks at you and you book it towards him. With all the strength you could muster, you kick Homelander back. Putting yourself between the two, you create a portal behind Black Noir. You propel yourself back, bringing Noir with you as you both fell into the portal. You quickly close it as soon as Homelander almost flies through.

You're a mess of pants before you turn to Black Noir. He looked to be in a state on disbelief. You grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. Breathlessly you said, "Just in time...Earving."

[remuswriting]

READING THIRST TWEETS; MSBY BLACK JACKAL

Atsumu, Bokuto, Hinata, and Sakusa are invited to Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets, and they recognize a certain user. (plus the aftermath)

TAGS: Thirst Tweets (sexual); Not Beta-read; OOC probably; Male! Reader

WORD COUNT: 2,247 words

NOTES: This a part two to this post. This part is a mixture of writing and smau. I will say there is slight Atsuhina in this, but it's Atsumu pining essentially.

Translation for something Hinata says "Desde o primeiro momento que te vi, não consigo parar de pensar em você." From the moment I saw you, I can’t stop thinking of you. (I got this from a website, so please tell me if this is incorrect)

If Atsumu is going to be completely honest, he’s excited to read these thirst tweets.  He knows some people (Sakusa) find that weird, but he finds thirst tweets to be more funny than anything else.  Sometimes, the more deranged the better.  He and Osamu read thirst tweets while drunk at Onigiri Miya, so it’s not like he’s going to be wide eyed and stuttering about them today.  That’s probably why Kousaka, MSBY Black Jackal’s PR manager, put him in this; Buzzfeed Thirst Tweets.

“Have any of you watched these before?” Kousaka asks as people put light makeup on Atsumu.

“I have!” Shoyo says with a bright smile. “Kenma and I watched some after hearing about this.”

“Sakusa-san?” Kousaka asks, and Sakusa slowly nods.

“Yeah.  I’ve seen clips on TikTok,” Sakusa says, which it’s news to Atsumu that Sakusa even has TikTok.

“I’m not even going to ask you, Atsumu-san,” Kousaka says, not even looking at him. “Bokuto-san?”

“Nope!” Bokuto says, and his smile is just as vibrant as always, just like his volume being just a little too loud. “I know what thirst tweets are, though.”

Kousaka nods. “Alright, good.” He reaches over and picks up a bucket off of a stool. “This bucket has all the thirst tweets.  You’ll all take turns reading them, which means you may not read ones for yourself.” He hands it to Sakusa, who places it to be on the edge of his knee. “Do not start until after they’ve started filming and you’ve introduced yourselves.”

“Got it, Kousaka-san!” Shoyo says, and Kousaka smiles a little before taking a deep breath and gently releasing it.

“Let’s hope this goes well.”

Only 10 minutes later, everyone is situated and ready for filming.  Atsumu loves PR, which Kousaka knows and drags him around just about everywhere.  He’s not great with people, but he can be charming enough that it works out for him.  Kousaka doesn’t understand it, but he uses it whenever they need some PR.

“Behave,” Kousaka says, and then they’re filming.

“Hello, I’m Miya Atsumu.  Setter for MSBY Black Jackal,” Atsumu says with a smirk, and he’s not sure if he’s supposed to introduce himself like that.  It seems like a fun way, though.

“I’m Bokuto Koutaro! Wing spiker for MSBY Black Jackal!” Bokuto says, a little too loudly from excitement.  Kousaka puts a finger to his lips behind the camera to remind Bokuto to calm down a little.

“I’m Sakusa Kiyoomi.  Wing spiker for MSBY Black Jackal,” Sakusa says in a monotone voice.  He’s said he doesn’t want to be there, but Atsumu knows that Kousaka doesn’t force people to do things they don’t want to.  If Sakusa told him no, he wouldn’t be here.

“And I’m Hinata Shoyo!  Wing spiker for the MSBY Black Jackal!” Shoyo says with a bright smile.  He’s also someone Kousaka drags around for PR since he actually is good with people.  Atsumu is also always better when Shoyo is there as well. “And we’re here at BuzzFeed to read your thirst tweets!”

“Do you ever see thirst tweets online?” someone behind the camera asks.  Kousaka covers his face with a hand, which makes Atsumu and Shoyo laugh a little.

“Course,” Atsumu says, laughter still in his voice a little. “It’s what happens when you’re this attractive.”

“More like what happens when you look up your name to see if anyone is talking about you,” Sakusa says, and Atsumu rolls his eyes.  Sure, that’s exactly what he does, but he’s not going to admit to that.

“Do not.”

Sakusa narrows his eyes at him, and he’s not wearing a mask, making it easy to see his frown.  He’s just about always frowning, so Atsumu doesn’t take it to heart. “Then show us the last thing you looked up on Twitter then.”

Atsumu’s eyes go wide. “I don’t have to do that.”

“So you’re admitting you do it?” Sakusa asks, and he sounds so smug.

Atsumu opens his mouth, but Shoyo grabs the bucket from Sakusa’s knee and pulls a piece of paper out. “Please @bokutomsby I am but a hole for your using.”

“A hole?” Bokuto asks, processing what he just heard.  His eyes widen. “Oh! Thank you, but that doesn’t sound very enjoyable.”

 Atsumu rolls his eyes as he chuckles a little.

“How many tweets do you think will mention them being a hole?” Shoyo asks casually before looking up at Kousaka. “Where do I put this paper?” Someone quickly puts a trash can near them. “Thank you.”

“Too many,” Sakusa says.  He leans away from Shoyo—away from the bucket more like it.  If he’s acting like that now, then how will he act when the tweets start actually getting dirty?

“My turn,” Bokuto says, and Shoyo hands him the bucket.  Bokuto pulls a piece of paper out. “User sakukiyo says: I’d let Sakusa Kiyoomi fuck me on every surface possible and spit in my mouth if it meant I got to see those thighs up close and personal just so I could thank him.”

Sakusa cringes. “No thank you.  I think I’ll pass.”

“Sakusa-san,” Kousaka says, and Sakusa rolls his eyes.  Atsumu has seen this interaction a hundred times before.  Kousaka gets onto Sakusa and then Sakusa stops being such a stick in the mud. “Also, Bokuto-san, you don’t need to read out the username.”

“Oh, sorry,” Bokuto says, looking a little guilty, but a simple smile from Kousaka erases the expression.

“I want to read another,” Shoyo says, and Bokuto hands over the container to him. “Miya Atsumu needs to rail me disrespectfully. Please, I know how to beg,” Shoyo reads out, but it doesn’t sound like he’s just reading it.  It sounds like he’s saying it with his own words.  Atsumu’s heart is in his throat.  He cannot get horny during an interview.  Kousaka will murder him.

“Good thing I know how to be disrespectful,” Atsumu says, trying to sound seductive.  Shoyo laughs beside him. “Hope all of these are that good.”

“Well dailyln only gives the best thirst tweets,” Shoyo says, and Atsumu wonders if they’re going to bleep out the username.  A lot of Y/N’s followers will already know which tweets are his, even though Atsumu doesn’t.  He’s seen the tweets, but he doesn’t remember who tweets what. “I wonder how many of his tweets will be in here.”

“Hopefully only one,” Sakusa says. “Atsumu’s already cocky enough.”

Atsumu rolls his eyes as he takes the bucket from Shoyo. “I want Hinata Shoyo to smash my skull between his thighs like a watermelon,” Atsumu reads.  All of them look at Shoyo’s thighs.

Shoyo flexes his thighs, and Atsumu has to remind himself that he’s not allowed to get horny in an interview. “I don’t know if my thighs are that strong,” Shoyo says, and he tilts his head. “I’ve never even tried to smash a watermelon before.”

“You should try!” Bokuto says, and Atsumu can’t wait to hear the end of this. “Last New Year’s I did it because Akaashi dared me.”

Atsumu doesn’t know Akaashi super well.  Osamu knows Akaashi far better than he does, but Atsumu knows Akaashi is just a little weird.  Bokuto either doesn’t know it or ignores it.  What Atsumu is getting at is that it’s so believable that happened.

“Did you take videos or pictures?” Shoyo asks, looking at Bokuto with wide eyes over Atsumu’s shoulder.

“Yeah!  I’ll have to show you them later!”

“Boys,” Kousaka says.  He always has to remind them to stay on task when Bokuto comes along.  Atsumu looks at Sakusa, who grumbles slightly as he takes the container and gets a piece of paper out.

“I never know what Hinata Shoyo is saying when he speaks Portuguese, but fuck does he sound good,” Sakusa reads off, not sounding entirely monotone but not putting his all into it.  Atsumu feels like he could’ve ghost written that.

Shoyo grins at the camera, but it’s a little feral.  It’s one of Atsumu’s favorite smiles on Shoyo.  It’s the one he has after a really good spike. “Really?” Shoyo asks, and Atsumu knows he’s about to be fucked. “Desde o primeiro momento que te vi, não consigo parar de pensar em você.”

Shoyo’s voice deepens slightly when speaking Portuguese, and Atsumu grips the side of his chair.  He’s so gay.  Fuck.  He is so gay.  Gay panicking in public should be something he’s used to by now, but he’s not God’s strongest soldier.

“That one was also Y/N,” Sakusa says as he leans over to throw the piece of paper away. “Just in case you wanted to know.”

Sakusa leans over Shoyo to hand Atsumu the bucket to hand to Bokuto.  Shoyo leans back a little, and it’s a simple exchange.  Bokuto takes the bucket from Atsumu with a smile as he pulls out a piece of paper. “Oh, to taste tsumu’s thighs as they’re wrapped around my head like earmuffs. Finally, some good fucking food,” Bokuto reads, and Atsumu’s thirst tweets seem to rival Sakusa’s in being slightly cruder.

“Glad I’m being appreciated for the meal I am,” Atsumu says with a grin, and he’s trying to ignore the way Shoyo is staring at him.  It’s his hungry stare, and Atsumu can only handle so much before he has a gay breakdown.

“I feel so bad for those who have terrible taste,” Sakusa says with a soft sigh, as if to make it more sympathetic. “Hopefully, their taste buds are fixed soon.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Atsumu says, but there’s no real bite in it.  Honestly, he finds it a little funny with how Sakusa said it.  He should be upset, but part of him can’t be from the comedy of it.

Sakusa simply rolls his eyes before extending a hand for them to give him the bucket.  He’s quick with pulling out the paper.  Atsumu only saw two left when he briefly looked as he passed it on.

“My ideal weight is Bokuto on top of me,” Sakusa reads out, and he looks over at Bokuto, who is laughing.

“If I lay on you, then I may crush you,” Bokuto says, which Atsumu can believe.  Bokuto is mainly made of muscle and weighs the most out of the four of them.  He’s just built thick.

“I think that’s what they want Bokuto-san,” Shoyo says, and Bokuto nods.

“Then I guess I should lay on them, shouldn’t I?” he asks, and Atsumu watches Kousaka close his eyes and let out a deep breath.  He should’ve expected this when he brought Bokuto to this.

“I think they’d love that,” Shoyo says, and Bokuto grins.  Shoyo turns to Atsumu. “Atsumu-san gets to read the last one!”

Atsumu takes the bucket when it’s passed to him.  He hopes it’s something filthy.  That’s probably a strange want, but he’s having a little fun.  He’s having gay panic, but also having fun.

“I need to see what Sakusa Kiyoomi’s wrists are capable of. Please I’ll be so good, just give me a chance,” Atsumu reads aloud, and Sakusa rolls his eyes.

“What are your wrists capable of, Omi-san?” Shoyo asks, and some would think he’d ask it innocently, but he doesn’t.  Atsumu hears the plotting in it.  Sakusa and Shoyo share a look before Sakusa is bending his wrists to where his fingers comfortably press against the skin of his wrist.

“I guess they’re capable of this,” Sakusa says, and it always amazed Atsumu that Sakusa’s wrists are that flexible.  He’s watched him stretch them every day at practice, but still.  It’s unnatural.

Shoyo turns to the crew. “Isn’t there another one?” he asks with excitement. “One that’s just awful?  You gave one to Dylan O’Brien.”

Apparently, Shoyo hadn’t been lying when he said he watched some of these with Kenma.

Kousaka shakes his head a little. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Hinata-san.”

Shoyo pouts. “Please,” he says, dragging out the word. “If it’s too bad, I won’t read it aloud.”

Kousaka nods, and someone gives Shoyo a piece of paper.  He holds it close to himself so Atsumu can’t read it.  His concentrated expression melts, and he’s laughing.  He’s full on cackling, and none of them know why.

“Definitely can’t read that one aloud,” he says as he crumbles it and throws it in the trash. “But it was good.”

They say their goodbyes and are back in the car.  Curiosity keeps eating at Atsumu over what the last one was that made Shoyo laugh like that.  He’s not sure he’s ever seen him laugh like that before.

“What was so funny about the last tweet?” Bokuto asks for Atsumu.

Shoyo looks up from his phone at Bokuto. “I don’t know if I’d say it was funny.  It was more like laughing was the only way to respond to it,” Shoyo says with a shrug. “But it was basically about an orgy between that person and us.”

If Atsumu had been drinking something, he would’ve spit it out all over Sakusa’s face. “They included something like that?” Atsumu asks, bewildered.

“Well, I had to ask for it, so it wasn’t really included,” Shoyo says with a small laugh. “It was detailed, though.  I didn’t know someone would think that hard about something like that.”

Atsumu nods, trying to get his mind around someone tweeting that.  The tweets they read aloud weren’t terrible, but that one is something else.  Eventually they’re talking about the upcoming game against the EJP Raijin.  Everyone has people they want to beat, and Atsumu is ready to take down Suna.  He imagines Suna is thinking the same thing about him (hopefully).

[dreamwatch]

Hello, I've Waited Here For You

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #18 - Prompt: Freak | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: period typical attitudes to women, period typical homophobia, internalised fat shaming, period typical sexism, sexist language | POV: Matt (Freak) | Pairing: Steddie, Matt/OC | Tags: Falling in love, CC is a family, secret relationship

I hope this makes up for yesterday.

Matt has always liked girls. Sadly, girls didn’t hold him in the same high regard.

He’s not an idiot. Yes, they were freaks in high school, no one liked them, boo hoo, but even then he was the odd one out. Because Jeff was seeing that irritating mathlete for a while there, Gareth went on a couple of dates with Samantha-what’s-her-face, and Eddie had actual women hanging off him at The Hideout, though he always seemed pissy about it. Fuck, even Henderson and Wheeler had girlfriends, though they don’t live in Indiana.

Actually, yeah, that’s probably bullshit.

And Matt? Nothing. If he looks at a girl he gets a curled lip and a side eye for his troubles. Because no one wants the fat dude. So he doesn’t talk about girls, and the boys don’t ask. It’s a pleasant status quo.

When they move to LA and start playing proper gigs in proper venues, suddenly girls are interested. But there’s a hierarchy.

The really pretty ones attach themselves like limpets to Eddie and Jeff. The shy ones hang around trying to catch Gareth’s eye. And then the bored friends who struck out with everyone else will rock up to Matt like they’re doing him a favour. It really fucks him off. But he’s a nineteen-year-old virgin and it’s slim pickings.

So he leans into it.

He doesn’t exactly sleep around, but if the opportunity presents then he’s not saying no. Girls come to a gig, they queue up for their spoils, the guys do whatever it is they do, and Matt gives some bored hanger-on a good time. 

But he rallies, chin up, he’s going to be a rockstar, women are going to be pounding down his hotel room door, and he’s going to be swimming in pussy. Really bored, would-rather-be-washing-their-hair pussy.

Jeff moves in with his new girlfriend, a sweet student named Melody. She’s going to leave him when she realises he doesn’t understand the concept of putting the toilet seat down.

Gareth moves his girlfriend in to make up the rent. It’s a fucking disaster, and they all fight constantly. In the end, they all go their separate ways: Gareth and the girlfriend in one direction, Eddie and Matt in another.

The new place is ok. Eddie is weird when it comes to girls. He lets them paw at him a little before he gets antsy, like an overstimulated cat. Like he wants it but doesn’t at the same time. So the apartment is girl-free, everyone goes to bed early, and by the way, did he mention he was going to be a rockstar?

Another backstage, another endless stream of girls pawing over all the bands, and another night of Matt nursing a beer and being ignored.

He’s thinking of leaving when he sees her.

She’s sitting in a dark corner on her own, black leather jacket, ripped black jeans, and long hair that looks dark pink under the lighting. He wants to find out what colour it really is. She glances at him occasionally, before looking away as if she’s trying not to get caught.

He’s never done this. Never approached a girl. He’s always left it to them to come to him. But she’s beautiful, and they’re only in town this one night.

“Uh, are you with anyone?”

She nods. “Yeah, um, Sandy. She’s over there with Eddie.” 

Sure enough, Eddie’s looking exasperated while Sandy practically climbs in his lap. Matt laughs. 

“She won’t be long, trust me. What’s your name?”

“Lily.”

“I’m—“

“Matt.” She smiles, shyly. “I know who you are.”

Damn. 

“Matty! Hurry the fuck up!”

“I’m trying!! This fucking—“ he scrabbles at the bow tie and yanks it off for the fifth time. Fucking thing is ruined. 

Eddie slaps his hands out of the way. “Let me look.” He scowls. “Jesus— why did we think we could do this? We wear fucking t-shirts for a living for Christ’s sake.”

There’s a knock on the door before Steve Harrington pokes his head inside the room.

“Hey, sorry, but the bride-to-be just arrived.”

“Oh fuck.” Matt can feel his insides flopping around like they’re looking for the exit. Why is he doing this, why is she doing this? She’s so beautiful and she could have anyone but—

“Hey! No zoning out, we don’t have time!” snaps Eddie. He glances at Steve. “Do you know how to tie these things?”

“Oh yeah, sure.”

He can’t figure his life out at all. In eight years he’s gone from school freak to minor rock star, he’s marrying a beautiful girl, and to top it all off, Steve Harrington’s tying his bow tie. Is he high?

“There ya go, you look awesome man.” Steve claps him on the arm. “I’ll see you out there,” he says, but Matt doesn’t miss how he looks at Eddie as he says it. 

Then it’s just the two of them.

There are a lot of things he wants to say to Eddie. He’ll get round to some of them later when he’s blind drunk and crying. But he needs to be sober for this.

“Just one of us left.”

Eddie smiles sadly. “Well, you know me, confirmed bachelor.”

“You know… if there was something you wanted to tell us. That— that you thought you couldn’t—”

Eddie shakes his head. “Matty—”

“—just listen. Please.”

Eddie freezes, eyes fixed on the floor.

“We love you. And if there was anything you ever wanted to tell us, we would be over the fucking moon to hear about it. And… and Steve’s a good guy.”

Eddie looks like a deer caught in a trap and Matt hates it. Hates that Eddie feels he can’t share the most important part of his life with them because the world is so shitty he couldn’t even be sure his best friends would be okay about it. So it stops now. 

They’re a family. Gareth and Bonnie, and Jeff and Melody, and Matt and Lily. And Eddie and Steve. 

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT — JACK HUGHES (23-24 SZN PART 17)

au masterlist

y/ndevils00

liked by jesperbratt, tofff73, and 383,624 others

y/ndevils00 WE ARE SO BACK, BABIES!!

your mighty lil hell raisers won 5-2 tonight against the flightless birds, and SURPRISE!! I WAS THERE!!

what a happy “welcome back to Pitt” to my lovely former-bumblebee-color-wearing bestie, Johnny Rockets!

i’m so proud of all of our goal scorers tonight, one of which is not pictured because he wouldn’t let me order a drink at dinner last night (*cough* Bratter *cough*)!

it was also AMAZING to see my sweet Edward Cullen again, you can see in the fourth photo how much he missed me! doesn’t he look positively overjoyed?!

oh, and: p.s. that one player, number 87 on the penguins? yeah he got a penalty. HA! don’t trip my boys, Sidney. i know where you sleep.

tagged curtislazar95, naterbastian, john.marino97, ryangraves27, dawson1417, holtz_10, tofff73

Load more comments

user19 IS THIS WHAT THE CROSBY HATTY THING LAST RECAP WAS ABOUT?! SHE WAS HINTING THAT SHE WAS COMING TO THIS GAME?!

naterbastian that’s a blurry pic

y/ndevils00 hop off my dick, nathan

naterbastian no

y/ndevils00 NO?!

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 how do i solve this?

dawson1417 maybe you could take less blurry pictures? i’m not sure about this one tbh

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 USELESS!

dawson1417 oh :(

y/ndevils00 @/dawson1417 WAIT NO! I’M SORRY! I DIDN’T MEAN IT! YOU’RE MY BESTEST FRIEND AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! EVEN MORE THAN JOHN

john.marino97 HELLO?! I’M RIGHT HERE?!

y/ndevils00 @/john.marino97 oh hi John!

user35 DID Y/N JUST THREATEN SIDNEY CROSBY?!

user99 I FEAR THIS IS WHEN SHE GETS FIRED

holtz_10 why is Crosby pictured?

ryangraves27 what i look is terrified because i didn’t even know you were in town

y/ndevils00 it was a surprise!! were you surprised?!

ryangraves27 did he know you were coming?

y/ndevils00 nope! showed up at his house like “BOO!”

user01 who the hell are they talking about?

jackhughes i’m glad the team won and i’m glad you’ve had fun, can you come home now?

y/ndevils00 aww you miss me 🥹

jackhughes yeah, sure, but also, LSH has chewed through my phone charger, has been scratching at the couch, and bit Nico’s hand

y/ndevils00 i put her in charge of keeping the house in order while i’m gone. sounds like she’s doing great!

jackhughes i’m a human and she’s a cat??

y/ndevils00 she’s also smarter than you, my love

jackhughes did you just call me dumb?

y/ndevils00 oh my sweet, sweet himbo, i love you to pluto and back

jackhughes um, yeah, i love you too, dove

holtz_10 hello??? why is Crosby pictured??

y/ndevils00 shhh i ignore stupid questions

jesperbratt i didn’t want you to get drunk, please don’t hold it against me

y/ndevils00 aww okay 🥺 i’m sorry for leaving you out of the post, thank you for looking out for me!

jackhughes how do you do it?!

jesperbratt @/jackhughes i’m cute 🤷🏼‍♂️

jackhughes oh fuck off Bratter, obviously i’m cute too, i’m her boyfriend

curtislazar95 WE WON

y/ndevils00 YOU WON!! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR NOT MAKING US LOSERS ANYMORE

curtislazar95 thank you?? i think??

y/ndevils00 YOU’RE WELCOME!!

y/ndevils00 notice how we win when @/tmeier96 isn’t playing… it’s cause he called me a bitch and the universe has my back

tmeier96 if i could insult you, you would be so sad right now

y/ndevils00 hmm but you CAN’T insult me! because i’m perfect!

tmeier96 actually it’s because after tuesday nights comments, Jack threatened to slap-shot a puck to my face if i insult you again

y/ndevils00 awww @/jackhughes that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever threatened for me 🥹🫶

jackhughes do people often threaten others for you?

y/ndevils00 of course?? i’m lovable and everyone i know wants me to be protected and loved!

tmeier96 well… i highly doubt EVERYONE you know…

y/ndevils00 watch it, Meier!

user56 idk, thats two posts in a row with Sidney Crosby… i’m starting to get suspicious

user13 i wanna know who the mysterious “he” is that they keep discussing!

user07 same! like, is it the same “he” every time?! and if so, if she showed up at his house, does that mean he lives in Pitt?

user22 all i’m saying is it’s suspicious and she better not be cheating on Jack

user91 @/user22 oh please! not only is she obviously head over heels for Jack, but if she were to cheat, i highly doubt everyone on the team, including Jack, would know and openly discuss him on a public platform

liked by @/y/ndevils00

[vodika-vibes]

hiiii! i would like to send in a request for your follower event please!!! i was thinking of a monster/ghost au where the reader (i’ll leave gender up to you i’m not picky lol) was a medic for the 501st and was dating echo but died. so the reader is now a ghost haunting echo after he joins the bad batch!! i’m not sure if i want echo (or even the bad batch + omega) to be able to see the reader so i’ll leave that up to you as well if that’s okay? it’ll be like a surprise!! but i do want this to have a happy ending if possible please!!

Oh Traveler Come

Summary: You’ve always been a practical person. Realistic. So when you’re killed in an attack on the Resolute you’re legitimately surprised to find yourself sticking around after death. It’s not the way your world is supposed to work. But, when you find yourself bound to Echo, Echo who you were dating before he died, you start to think that maybe there’s a reason for it.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1542

Warnings: Some angst

Prompt: Ghost/Monster AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I wasn't sure, at first, how I was going to write this one, but I think I kind of like the idea that I came up with. Thanks for your request!

“What a hell hole,” You scrunch up your nose as you trail after Echo into the barracks of his new squad, “Honestly Echo,” You say to your boyfriend, former boyfriend, who you know can’t hear you, “You should bully them into cleaning more. This is a crime against me.”

Echo doesn’t respond. Of course he doesn’t. He can’t see you, though sometimes it feels like he can hear you.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on your part.

You’re a ghost. You died in an attack on the Resolute. Well, to be more precise, you were killed by Ventress. At least, you’re pretty sure that’s what happened. 

To be fair to yourself, you don’t actually remember dying.

But you’re a ghost, so you must have died. It’s the only logical conclusion. 

For a time, you were attached to Fives, and then he died (and oh, isn’t that just infuriating? You know everything that Fives learned, but you can’t tell anyone-) and then you found yourself hovering over Echo.

You suppose it makes an odd sort of sense. You’ve always been closer to the domino twins than anyone else on the ship…well, outside of Kix. Although, you’re not disappointed that you’re not stuck haunting Kix.

Absently, you roll in the air so that you’re lounging on your back, you tuck your arms under your head and cross your legs. Being a ghost is weird. You can only travel so far away from Echo before you’re snapped back to his side, floating through walls still feels…weird. And you constantly feel like you’re spying on the boys.

Also, you don’t need to sleep anymore. 

You shift when you hear a thunk, and you make a face when you see Hunter stripping his armor off. Time to make yourself scarce, just because they don’t know that they’re being haunted doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t allow them some privacy.

Sure, if you’ve seen one naked clone, you’ve seen them all. But still.

The only person you have any interest in seeing naked is Echo…and even then, not when he’s not aware that you’re watching.

You allow yourself to drift through the wall, and then sit up and cross your legs, lazily allowing your gaze to drift over the men walking through the hall.

What a lonely existence you’ve been cursed with.

Your hands find no purchase. Your gestures catch no eyes. And your pleas, whether they be whispered or screamed, reach not a single ear.

What horrific crime must you have committed to be cursed with this? It must have been truly awful-

“Hello?”

There’s no other explanation-

“Helloooo?”

This has to be a punishment-

“How are you floating?”

Wait, what?

Your gaze snaps to right in front of you. There’s a small child, a little blonde girl, standing in front of you, looking up at you through wide brown eyes. “...you can see me?”

“Yes, of course I can.”

“Gods,” You drop from the air until your kneeling in front of her, “How long has it been-” 

She reaches out and presses her hands against your cheeks, and you’re surprised that she can touch you, “You’re cold.” The little girl says with a small frown, “Like touching ice.”

“I’m a ghost, little one.” You say through a choked laugh, “I have been for what feels like ages.”

“My name is Omega.” She says with a bright smile, “What’s your name?”

You blink the tears out of your eyes, as you introduce yourself. 

“Would you like to come to my room with me? You must be so lonely.”

“I wish I could, but I’m bound to Echo.” You jab your thumb towards the door.

Omega looks from you, to the door, and then back to you. “He can’t see you?”

“Nope.”

“Or hear you?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s so sad!” Omega looks like she’s about to cry for a moment, and you flounder, unsure how to fix this, if this can be fixed. And then a look of determination crosses her face, “I’m going to help.”

“Are you?” You ask, bemused.

Omega steps around you and knocks on the door, loudly.

“They’re not going to believe you, kid.” You note as you take to the air again, folding your legs once more.

“I’ll make them.” Omega replies just before the door opens. Crosshair looks out the door, looking right through you, and then he glances down at Omega.

“...what?”

Omega lifts her chin, “I’m looking for Echo.”

Crosshair raises both of his brows, and then he turns to the side, “Echo, there’s a kid-hey!” He stares at Omega as she pushes into the room, and you, laughing quietly, trail after her.

“Um…which one is Echo?” Omega asks you, seemingly uncaring for the bemused, and bewildered, looks that were being aimed at her. 

“The one with the prosthetics.” You say, amused, “They’re going to think you’re crazy, Omega.”

She frowns at you, and then turns to look at Echo, “But I’m not.”

“I know that, you know that. But ghosts aren’t supposed to be real, kid.”

“Then tell me something that will make them believe me.” Omega counters.

“Uh…kid? Who are you talking to?” Hunter asks slowly. 

Omega says your name and you watch as Echo jerks, and something pained crosses his face. “She’s dead, you can’t be talking to her.” He says bluntly, and you’d almost believe that he didn’t care based on his tone, but there’s something so heartbroken on his face that your heart lurches painfully.

Omega stares at him for a moment, and then she points at you, “She’s right there. She says that she’s been following you for a while.”

Echo glances at you, or, well, at the spot where Omega says that you are, and the look of pain on his face only becomes more pronounced, “That’s…cruel, kid.”

“No, I-” Omega turns her gaze to you, “Help?”

You hesitate, and then you float over to Echo and lightly reach out, as if to touch him, though you stop before you actually manage it. “Tell him…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break my promise.”

Omega dutifully gives him your message, and Echo jerks in surprise. 

“She’s…actually here?”

“Right in front of you. She’s crying.”

You laugh through your tears, “Don’t tell him that-”

“Sorry.” Omega says sheepishly, “She didn’t want me to tell you that.”

“Why can’t I see her? Or feel her?”

“I don’t think anyone can.” Omega says thoughtfully, “She said that I’m the first person to see her since she died.”

For a moment, Echo looks wrecked. But then, he knows better than anyone how much you hate being alone.

You pull away from Echo, and return to Omega’s side, kneeling so that you’re closer to eye level with her, “Omega. I need you to pass on a message, exactly as I say it. Can you do that?”

She turns to look at you, “I can do that.”

“Good. Good girl.” You breathe out, and then you start speaking.

You tell Echo, though Omega, about Fives. About what he learned, about what got him killed. Omega is shaking by the time you finish talking, horror and fear on her face. 

“We need proof,” Echo says quietly, “Cyare, please tell me you have proof.”

Omega, her hands shaking, gives him your answer, “She says that the proof is in your heads.”

“Then we need to do something about this.” Hunter says, “Omega, can you be the go between for us and the ghost doctor?”

“Ghost doctor?” You repeat under your breath.

“You…believe me?” Omega asks, her eyes wide.

“It does explain why Echo always smells a little bit like ozone.” Hunter says with a shrug, “Come on, let’s get to the bottom of this.”

Half an hour later, Echo is hacking into a computer terminal when he stumbles on a file with your name on it. The file is a very detailed description of the attack on the Resolute, the attack that you thought killed you. 

Turns out, Ventress didn’t kill you. 

She used an ancient force ability to separate your soul from your body. According to the notes, you were meant to be bound to Ventress, as a weapon to be used against the Republic, only instead of being bound to Ventress, you ended up bound to Fives, and then Echo.

Your body is located on a small asteroid in wild space, kept in a deep coma to keep your soul wandering. Tech quickly makes note of the location, and then they go back to work at dealing with the chips. 

A single line of code added to the chips software by Tech, as well as a forced update to thc chips, meant that Order 66 could never be activated by anyone. And if someone managed it, the new order was to protect all jedi, rather than kill them. 

It would give the Jedi time enough to survive, if nothing else.

Then the Batch flees Kamino, with Omega. Intent on going to claim their doctor’s body, and then head to the Jedi temple in the hopes that they’ll be able to put you back in your body.

You and Echo will get your happy ending, you just have to fight for it.

And, really, isn’t that the case with all happy endings?

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Go to Hell

kai parker x reader

summary: there's nothing like waking up realizing you've been kidnapped by mystic falls' own sociopath, malachai parker. will this day end with your blood on his hands, or will his sweet spot for you save your life?

≪ originally published to ao3: 3/30/23 ≫

tags: consensual non-consent, kidnapping, knife-play, alludes to stalking, sex magic / spell, daddy kink, praise kink, minor spit kink, minor degradation; SPOILERS: secret phrase used for consent, roleplay, aftercare :)

word count: 5.4k

A rattle rings out throughout the otherwise empty room as you shake your hands, desperately trying to free yourself of the cuffs. No luck - they’re on tight, with little to no room for you to move. You bite your lip, scanning the room. Over by the chalkboard, a gleam catches your eye - the key. There’s no way you could reach it though, because even if you got free, your captor would definitely hear your escape. You’re left forced to await his return, and maybe, with a beg for mercy, he’d let you go unharmed. 

“Hello?” You call out gently. “Why am I here?” The only response is your voice echoing. “Please, you’ve kidnapped the wrong girl! I don’t know anything; I’m not worth anything to anyone!”

A click of the tongue interrupts your silence. Footsteps. They stop outside the classroom door. “Huh. I’d like to disagree with that. Surely someone’s looking for you.”

“They’re not, I promise. If you wanted to lure someone here, you should’ve captured Elena.”

Kai Parker stands in the doorway, wielding a knife. “Hm, well, I don’t want Elena. I wanted you.”

“Why?” You swallow hard.

“I’ve been watching you. Carefully. Some might call it stalking, even. I see when you leave your apartment, when you return. I know when you have class, and I know your favorite places to eat. I even know your coffee order.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

Kai smirks, then recites your order verbatim as you do every morning to the barista. 

“How do you know that?”

“Like I said, I’ve been watching you.”

“Why me?”

“Do I need a reason?”

“I…”

“I’ll tell you this much: I think you’re pretty. And you’re smart, and whether or not you believe it, you matter to someone.”

You scoff, tugging on your chains once again. “Why do you need me here?”

“I’m trying to learn how to control my magic. See, I siphoned a bunch last night, and now I don’t know how to use it. Oh, and by the way, don’t try to escape. I’ve bewitched the chains. They tighten each time you fight them.”

You stop resisting immediately.

“Good girl. Already learning. Oh, that’s the second part, too. Not only do I want control over my magic, I want control over you. See, you’re a pretty girl, I’ve already said that. But after having no control for eighteen years and being trapped in a prison world, I’m sick of living under my father’s terms. Now, I’m finally out, and I need to be in control of something, someone. And I’ve decided that’s you.”

“Is that what that knife is for?”

“Good observation. When I tell you to do something, you obey me. If you don’t, don’t think I won’t retaliate. There’s a reason I was locked up for years.”

“Oh I’ve heard your history, you-”

“Ah, ah, did I say you could speak? No. And certainly, I did not say you could talk back to me. What punishment do you think you deserve for that, him?”

“Like you’d actually hurt me. You’re all talk.”

A haunting smile takes over his face. “Brave little girl. You underestimate me. Look at me.”

You refuse to meet his eyes.

“Hm. That’s two punishments now. Okay, for the first one, how about…” suddenly, you feel a cut along your cheek. Looking at Kai, you see him directing his finger in a line, yet he doesn’t have to touch you to break skin. “Oh! You can obey, that’s a good girl. See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Go to hell.”

“Did you miss the part where I was in a prison world for eighteen years? That was hell, princess.”

“Then go fuck yourself.”

“Now why would I do that when I have you?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“No. You can’t.”

“As long as you obey, I won’t have to.”

“Kai, please!”

“Begging already? Didn’t count you to be weak, Y/N.”

You whine, tugging against the cuffs. Immediately, they tighten, causing you to cry out. 

“I warned you about that, princess. How’d you forget already?”

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“I want you to sit still while I try a spell. It’s just a simple silencing spell, so that anyone possibly coming in won’t hear us, okay? I know it’s spring break, but you can never be too careful.”

Slowly, you nod.

“Good girl. This shouldn’t take long.”

As Kai performs his spell, you start brainstorming ways to escape. If you can just get out of the cuffs, you can do your own spell to get away from him, but as long as they tighten, you can’t concentrate enough to break free. Maybe you can try the classic breaking-your-thumbs trick, or maybe, break the table leg around which the cuffs are holding you. You debate this plan, although get so lost in it, you don’t realize when he stops chanting. 

“It’s done. Now, tell me, in that short period, how many different ways did you conjure up a possible escape plan? Hm? Two? Three? More than that?”

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t lie to me, princess.”

“I swear!”

Kai lifts his knife and stands up, “are you sure about that?”

“Fine! Fine. Okay, I thought of two.”

“Only two?”

“Yes, I promise!”

“And what are they?”

You shake your head.

“Be honest with me, Y/N,” he stalks over to you, leaving mere inches between your faces. His knife is pointed at the ground, but his grip on the handle is strong. 

“No.” And in a split second of defiance, you spit on him. It hits him square in the face and drips down quickly, some spilling onto his lip. 

Angrily, he grabs your neck. Not hard enough to cut off your airway, but enough to choke you just a little. The sharp point of the knife rests on your collarbone. The cool metal directly touches your skin. “Answer me.”

“No.”

“Y/N!”

“You won’t hurt me.”

He laughs, “are you sure about that?”

“You don’t have the guts. Sure, eighteen years of isolation made you crazy, but it also made you scared. Scared of your daddy, and what he was capable of. If you hurt me, it’ll make the news. He’ll come for you.”

“Don’t try to manipulate me!”

“You won’t do it, Kai. You can’t. You said it yourself, you think I’m pretty. Why would you kill a pretty girl you like? Hm?” You don’t know why you’re egging him on. Maybe the knife digging into your skin is turning you on a little; maybe it’s his eyes. Or maybe, this is the most excitement you’ve had in a long time, even if your words might be your last. 

“You’re right, why would I kill you?” In one quick motion, he slices the blade down the front of your shirt. It flies open, revealing your black bra for him to see. “Ah, lace. Like you knew you’d be kidnapped.”

“Kai-”

“Oh don’t ‘Kai’ me, I know you’re secretly enjoying this.”

“No.”

“Then how would you react if I-” he drags the blade down between your breasts. Involuntarily, you let out a moan. “There it is. ‘No’ my ass.”

“Don’t.”

“Oh, princess, you’re not going to fight me, are you? It’s this or I kill you.”

“Go to hell,” you repeat. 

Kai smirks, “oh, I’ll be on my way. Right after I get a little slice of heaven.”

There’s nothing you can do as he eyes your body. For a second, though, he seems doubtful - like he’s afraid to hurt you. But then one look into your defiant eyes and his dominance is back. “Look at me.”

You snap your gaze to him immediately.

“Good girl! I’ll give you a little reward for obeying so well.”

For a minute, there’s nothing, and you actually think that’s your reward. But not two seconds later, there’s an unexplainable pressure on your clit, rubbing it in figure-eights. Kai’s not even within kissing distance anymore, so how-? Right. Magic. Despite the situation, you want to groan. He’s so good at it, feeling exactly where you need him, and increasing pressure in certain areas. 

“You like that, princess?”

Lost in the feeling, you can only nod. 

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Kai.”

“I thought so. But we’re going to have to stop there. Can’t have you coming on me just yet.”

The pressure decreases into nothing, soon leaving you wet and cold. As soon as you come to, you realize what you just let him do. Embarrassment takes over and you duck your head away from him. 

“Awh, now don’t get shy on me.” You look back at him, afraid that that’s some kind of code word for needing your attention. “There you go, beautiful. Now, how will you feel about these pants coming off?”

“What?”

“What?” He repeats your question, “I can’t fuck you through jeans, now can I?”

“Kai-”

“I promise I’ll make you like it. All you have to do is listen. Maybe I’ll even untie you, if you promise not to run away.”

“No, please don’t.”

“Awh, come on! Your body is dripping, I can smell your arousal.”

“What?”

“Just another spell, don’t worry. Sex spell, actually. If you’re interested, I have another batch of the herbs. Just a little tea, and you’ll be wanting me in no time.”

“Why didn’t you already drug me? Figure you kidnapped me, might as well drug me, too.”

“Eh, wanted to give you a chance to get horny yourself.”

“Never. Never will I get wet for you.”

“Hmmm, that smell says otherwise. It’s pooling in your panties, Y/N. Sweet, like honey, or… cotton candy.”

You take a risk. “So why’d you drug yourself? You can’t get hard by yourself?”

“Aww, cute. No, I have full control over myself, Y/N. But thanks to my spell, like I said, it lets me know how you’re feeling about all this. And I know that you started to get wet the minute my knife first touched your skin.”

“I…” you curse yourself for not having an answer.

“It’s okay to be turned on. What do they call it? Stockholm syndrome? Falling in love with your kidnapper? I believe they even have a song about it. Huh,” he chuckles, “and it was in your playlist when I looked.”

You laugh in his face, “it’s One Direction. Everybody loves One Direction.”

“Yeah? Can you explain why it made your top ten on your Spotify wrapped?”

“It’s catchy.”

“Catchy, yeah. Or, you have a kink.”

“I do not have a kink.”

“It’s okay to admit, princess.”

“I do not have a kink.”

“Suit yourself.”

Without warning, Kai brings the tip of his blade further down your body, over your clothed sex. It doesn’t hurt, not in the slightest, but you can’t ignore the dull, tingling sensation left by the feeling. Then, he comes close enough to whisper in your ear, “I do believe you liked that.”

You swallow hard.

Kai flips his hand so that the blade is facing the ground before pressing the hilt into your crotch. He applies a bit of pressure, but not enough to cause pain. Just enough to see your face contort up close. “What about this? Do you like this?”

“No.”

“Hm. Let’s find out.”

Maybe if you had said something else, this wouldn’t be happening. Maybe if you said ‘yes’, he’d leave you alone, not wanting to please you, and would move his attention back up to your face. Maybe he’d cut your other cheek, or practice another spell. But no, you had to be defiant. And now he’s unbuttoning your high-waisted jeans, shrugging them down your legs. 

“Ah, lace panties. Matching your bra. I love when girls do that, it’s so sexy.”

“Fuck you, Malachai.”

“Ohh, princess, that is not what you want to call me.”

“What? Awww, are you sensitive? Does it hurt?” Again, why are you egging him on?

“Shut up, or I’ll make you. I have plenty of more silencing spells I could try out on you.”

“So why haven’t you? I could call out right now and expose you.”

“Well first of all, we’re in your old high school, and it’s spring break, like I said before. And second, like I also said before, I’m still learning how to control my magic. I don’t want you quiet, I want to hear you beg and cry for me to let you cum.”

“In your dreams.”

“Maybe this is. Maybe I haven’t kidnapped you. Maybe this is your dream.”

“We both know that it’s not. You’re a sociopath, and I’m your victim.”

“Aww, giving up so soon? You don’t have to be a victim.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“It’s all in good fun.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe. But like I told Elena when I kidnapped her, pre-merge, mind you, liking yourself is the most important thing. And I like me.”

“So you like being a sociopath? That pretty much solidifies the fact that you’re going to kill me. You’re going to use me, then kill me.”

“Not if you comply.”

“God,” you scoff, “this is crazy. You’re crazy.”

“Maybe. Let’s find out. Are you ready to listen to me?” He produces the knife again from his back pocket. “Or are we going to do this the hard way?”

You stare at him. This could go two ways: you comply with everything and hope he spares you, or you can fight him all the way through this and die with dignity. Neither option seems good, but then again, that’s the whole point of trying to survive a sociopath’s kidnapping.

“I can see the internal debate.”

“There’s no debate.”

“Again, with the lying! C’mon, fess up or face punishment.”

“No.”

“Still stubborn? Okay. Let’s… ooh, here looks good.” After scanning your body, Kai draws another line with his finger. This time, you see him using magic before you feel it, but soon enough, you can feel it, too. A straight line across your chest. In between your tits. 

“How’s that feel?”

“Go to hell.”

“You really like to say that.”

“I mean it.”

“Will you mean it after this?”

Now his finger is making circles in the air. Every so often, he rubs them together, too. In a few seconds following the gesture, you feel something tugging at your nipple. It’s cold, yer feels so, so good to be stimulated. “Oh fuck,” you whisper.

“There you go. Knew you’d like that. I overheard a phone call you made where you mentioned you loved when your ex would do that. Am I as good as him, Y/N?”

“Better,” you moan out. You slap a hand around your mouth in disbelief at what you just admitted.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s okay to enjoy the pleasure I’m giving you. That’s the whole point. You’re pretty, I like you.”

You gulp.

“Ah, and there’s that sweet smell again. Hey, would you like a taste? I know I’m craving it.”

“No, Kai, wait!”

He starts to move back over to you, but your words stop him in his tracks. “No? You don’t want any more pleasure? If that’s the case, I can just do a few spells and then leave you here. When those stupid kids return to their classes on Monday, they can find an almost nude girl, hungry, probably crying, tied up to the ceiling fan. Orrrr,” he drags it out, “you can let me fuck you, as I intended to do upon stealing you.”

You fight back threatening tears, “please don’t leave me here.”

“I don’t want to, princess. Let me take care of you. The only condition is that you obey me.”

“Fine.”

“That’s a good girl,” he strokes your cheek, “no need to cry.” 

With one hand on your face still, the other dips below your panties, feeling around your wet, hot core. Two fingers go in, then two come out, glistening. Kai brings them to his mouth immediately, rolling his eyes in pleasure at your taste. “Amazing. Would you like to taste yourself?”

“I have.”

He grins wide. “I knew I liked you. C’mon, taste yourself on my fingers.”

He repeats the action, bringing them to your lips next. “Good?”

You nod.

“Use your words.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl. Now, I wonder how you’d like this.” The knife reappears, and its hilt is, again, at your core. “Are you gonna let me strip you?”

You bite your lip. The thought of him fucking you with the knife sounds like absolute pleasure, but you hate to let Kai win.

“Come on, princess. The blinds are closed, no one can see you. It’s just you and me.”

“Fine.”

“That’s all? Just ‘fine’?” 

You nod. 

“Alright, I’ll take it.”

Kai hooks one finger around your panties and pulls them down your body. Your lower half is on display for him now; the only thing you have on at all is your bra. “Gorgeous,” he compliments with a lick of his lips. Then, still holding onto the knife, he buries the hilt into your pussy. It’s not deep at all, but it does bring some pleasure. Mostly because it’s a knife that he’s using, of all things. 

After letting you adjust to the feeling, he fucks you as best he can with it. He’s very close to your body, lips against your neck, fingers grazing your core, with every small thrust. You won’t cum from this, but it’s definitely checking off a box on your secret kinks list. “Oh!”

“Mhm, love to hear your whines.” He licks your neck before sucking on it.

If he were a vampire, he would be feeding from you right now. The quickly passing thought makes your body jolt. 

“Oh, princess, what was that?! Something got you all excited.”

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? We’re just gonna pretend that didn’t happen? Hm, fine. I’d gladly take input if you like to be pleasured a certain way.”

“This is fine.”

“Is it? Shoot, because I was just about to stop. Knife’s not doing it for me anymore. Need something bigger.”

You hate to admit he’s right. Hate it, hate it, hate it. But he’s turned you on, and now if he doesn’t pleasure you, you’re gonna make him regret it. 

“What do you suggest we do instead? I can magic fuck you, make you believe there’s something bigger, thicker between your legs. Or… I can get a bigger knife. Or, we could do this the old fashioned way,” he ghosts a hand over his pants. It’s just then you realize how tight they’ve gotten; how big the imprint against them is. 

Looking at it, you lick your lips, completely forgetting the setting. Of course, Kai notices. 

“You like that idea?”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“You don’t need to be scared of me. I said I’m going to take care of you.”

“Please, fuck me, Kai.”

“That’s a good girl, there you go. It’s okay to admit you need me.” He sets the knife down, then walks over to the chalkboard. “If I let you out of those cuffs, do you promise not to run?”

“Yes.”

“Just ‘yes’?

“Yes, daddy.”

“Much better. Do you promise not to scream?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Promise not to hurt me or escape in any way?”

“Yes, daddy, I promise, I swear.”

“You know if you’re lying, one little spell and I’ll have you back in my grasp. And if that happens, I won’t be so kind the second time. And I certainly won’t let you cum.”

“I know. I’m not lying.”

“Good.” He grabs the key, then stalks back over to you. “When I let you out, go over to that desk and kneel beside it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you want to keep the knife nearby? As long as you’re a good girl, I promise to not hurt you.”

“Yes, I want it. I like it.”

“Good choice.”

You obey every order as soon as he unlocks the cuffs. Any sane girl would run for the hills despite their promises, but Kai said he’d let you cum, and he is going to, because you say so. You’re going to make this kidnapping worth your while. 

You're on your knees at the desk when he comes back over to you, knife in hand. As he talks to you, he undoes his belt and zipper, then pulls himself out. 

“Okay, princess. Get me ready but not off.”

“Yes, daddy.”

He holds the knife at the back of your neck, but you’re not too worried about it. If anything, it motivates you. You waste no time getting him in your mouth. No part of you wants to wait, and although that should be because you want to get this over with, you secretly know you’re too excited to go slowly. Kai’s average in size, but thick, and even before seeing his cock, you were attracted to his looks. And maybe you do have a little bit of stockholm syndrome, so this isn’t the worst thing that could’ve ever happened to you. Besides, the only time he’s actually hurt you was the small graze on your cheek. If he wanted to cause you harm, he would’ve threatened you more. Kai just seems to want sex, but doesn’t know how to ask.

“You better be smirking because you’re enjoying this, not because you’re plotting.”

“Eumh noph, flotphing,” you respond, mouth so full that the words are incomprehensible.

“What was that?”

You pull off him, a trail of spit still connecting your bottom lip to his length as you do. “I said I’m not plotting.”

“Yeah? Then what was that smirk?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how good you taste.”

“Sure you were.”

“Can I get back to it?” You bat your eyelashes.

“Yeah, go. No more funny business.”

After that, he seems to have decided to retake control of the situation, because the knife soon disappears off your neck - you hear it clang onto the desk - and both his hands find their way into your hair. He digs his fingers into your scalp, making you moan, which sends vibrations throughout his body.

“Good girl.”

For about a minute, he then holds your head in place and fucks himself into your mouth. Tears form in your eyes despite how much you’re actually enjoying it. Though before you know it, he’s pulling himself away from you. 

“How are you doing, princess? Think you can take my cock now? Are you still wet?”

“Yes,” you nod as you stand up. He even helps to guide you down onto the desk. “Though I still think you should go to hell.”

“The minute I take myself out of your mouth, it gets vulgar again.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

“I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

He smirks at the face you make, while lining up at the same time. To your surprise, and comfort, he starts slowly, giving you time to adjust. He starts with the tip, teasing your folds, then entering them just barely. Then, entering a little bit more, a little more, a lot more, until you finally nod for him to go fully. As soon as you give him the okay, he’s rocking hard into your body. The desk is shaking and you’re quickly a moaning mess. Sweat glistens at his forehead, somehow making him even hotter.

Suddenly, he’s chanting. Fear courses through your body, unsure of what he’s doing, what spell he’s producing. You’re about to interrupt, possibly burst into tears, when he stops. In fact, another noise stops, too. 

“What was that?”

“Stop that damn desk from shaking. Don’t want it to break and hurt you.”

His concern for you makes your heart warm. Maybe he is just a sad boy who needs to kidnap girls for sex, and uses his sociopathic tendencies to get his way. 

“Plotting again?”

“No, daddy.”

“Better not be.”

“Promise.”

“Good girl. Open your legs wider for me.”

You obey instantly, and he goes deeper. His finger on your upper cervix marks an area he’s hit repeatedly. He’s pressing into it gently, making you gasp each time he hits it again. 

“Kai?”

“What?”

“Knife.”

“You want the knife?”

You nod enthusiastically.

His spare hand grabs the knife again and presses it onto your throat. “Look at you, my sexy, kinky slut. You’re being such a good girl for daddy.” He drags the knife along your body, tracing your tits, your arms, then back to your neck. The finger on your cervix has since moved to your clit, rubbing it exactly how you like it. “Are you close?” He asks after a few more minutes.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, princess. You can do it. Come on,” he continues to coax you, not slowing down until you finally hit your high.

You cry out his name, whining and moaning, gasping for breath. Your legs are shaking and your core tightens around him. As you’re finishing, his is triggered. He cums inside of you in thick ropes, probably painting your insides white.

“Holy fuck,” he moans out, riding you through his own high. For a minute, he collapses on top of you in an effort to catch his breath. 

“Kai, no pill,” you say in between breaths.

“Yeah, and I don’t want fucking Gemini babies.”

He pulls out of you slowly. You’re both sensitive and he’s going soft. As soon as he’s out, his cum begins to leak out of you. Some of it he misses and it falls to the carpeted floor of the high school. “Oh well,” he only shrugs. The rest, he gathers in his palm and drips into his mouth. You watch him as he swishes it around, clearly swallowing half the load, but you know there’s more in his mouth. He locks eyes with you and taps his jaw. You know this is code for you to open yours. As predicted, he leans down to spit the mixture into your mouth. “Swallow it. That’s for spitting on me.”

“You deserved it,” you sass back after swallowing.

“Don’t interrupt my spell.”

You shut your mouth and instantly, he starts chanting. A minute later, he opens his eyes.

“Contraceptive spell.”

“That’s handy.”

“Yep.” Kai looks at you, seemingly admiring your body. “I’ll be back. Run if you so wish, or stay, I don’t care. You’ve served your purpose.”

And with that, he leaves the room. 

You sit in the empty room, staring at nothing in particular. There’s a dull burning on your core from his thrusts, and your cheek is still stinging a bit from the cut earlier, but overall, you’re still enjoying the effects from your high. You take a couple deep breaths, then glance over at the knife. It’s a gorgeous knife, of course it belongs to someone as beautiful as Kai Parker. 

Speak of the devil, his footsteps return. 

“How are you feeling, princess?” He leans in the doorway, twice in one day, This time, though, carrying a number of things.

You smile at him, “really good.”

“I didn’t go too far?”

“No, baby, you were perfect.”

“Okay, good.” He comes over to stand beside you again, setting down his supplies. “Let me take care of you, hm?”

“Okay.”

He hands you a water first, “drink as much as you can,” he points to it. “Are you sore?”

“A little.”

“Okay, I got you.” He wipes you down with a wet but warm washcloth, then follows it up with a dry one. On and around your pussy, he applies a moisturizer that instantly makes it feel better. He massages your hips and thighs, too, easing any tension that may have built up from your position. 

“Kiss me, Kai.” The boy stops mid-care to give into your will. He kisses you sweetly, cupping your face. His hands on your chin graze the magic cut, and he breaks the kiss to look at it.

“Shit, that’s worse than I intended.”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt. A little dull pain, but I’ve told you before, I like pain.”

“Mhm, but I’m still going to clean it up, okay?” 

You nod. Kai takes out a new washcloth and dabs the cut clean, before applying some kind of natural healing cream to it. “Feel better?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I’m going to get this one on your chest now.” He repeats the same process to the cut between your breasts.

“Okay. Anywhere else hurting?”

“You didn’t hurt me anywhere, baby.” 

“I know, but anywhere else you need a little care? How’s that wording instead?”

“Not that I can think of. You got the three spots that were a little sore.”

“Okay.”

“I do need a new shirt, though. You cut open my one.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

“That was so fucking hot. I didn’t know you were going to do that.”

“Hey, we had to leave some of the night up for improvisation. What’s the fun in planning it all?”

You grin at him, beckoning him closer with your hands for a hug, As you break apart, though, your face grows sad. “Speaking of which…”

“You okay, princess?”

“Yeah, but um… I didn’t go too far, did I?”

“When?”

“When I was egging you on earlier. When I brought up your dad. I didn’t mean it. You’re not weak; you’re a lot stronger than you know for surviving that prison world.”

“That? No worries, gorgeous, I know you didn’t mean it.”

“But it hurt you, I know it did. I could see it in your eyes.”

“Well, it is partly true. I am afraid of him. But I’m okay, I promise. You didn’t go too far, we were both playing around. And I said much worse to you.”

“I’m sorry, Kai.”

“Rest your little head, darling, it’s okay. You’re perfectly okay.”

“If he ever does come and even try to hurt you, I’d kick his ass so hard he’d be choking on my boot.”

The threat makes Kai laugh. A genuine, happy laugh. “I know you will. I love you, princess.”

“I love you, too.”

“While we’re on this page, though, I didn’t go too far, either, right?”

“Nope, I’m all good.”

“Good, okay.”

“Hey, did you really drink a sex tea, or was that made up?”

“Oh no, princess, I really drank one. And yes, I could smell your arousal, and it tasted as good as it smelled.” He notices your blush. “All that and you’re getting shy now?”

“I can’t help it! You’re so fucking hot, Kai. You’re hot when you’re praising me, and you’re hot when you’re calling me a slut. And oh my god, you’re hottest with that knife, pressed against my throat. I- I- um… I need- we need to do this more often.”

Your confession has Kai just as red as it has you, “I am certainly down to do this again. Say, we could even switch up the location. How would you feel tied to a tree, maybe?”

“Or what if I force you on your knees in that Lockwood cellar, hm?”

Kai’s jaw drops. “That can definitely be arranged.” The thought of you in a dominant position over him suddenly renders him paralyzed. 

“Good,” you kiss his cheek. 

“But before any of that, we need a couple calmer nights. We’ll talk them through again, too.”

“Of course. Is ‘go to hell’ still a good consent phrase?”

“It’s perfect. Work for you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now let’s go home, princess. I’m not done caring for you yet. Finish that water, and I’m going to cook you dinner.”

“Okay, Kai.”

“And, we really need to get out of this high school, before the post-spring-break janitors come by.”

“Are we gonna get the little bit of cum you missed?” You point to the small, but darkening stain on the carpet.

“Nope,” Kai smirks, “they can play Salem witch trials with that.”

“Mystic Falls trials of which students snuck in to fuck over break.”

“Exactly. Jokes on them, we’re not in high school.”

“Nope, and technically, you’re old enough to actually be my daddy.”

“Y/N, we’ve hashed this out before!”

“I know, I’m just messing with you… daddy.”

“You better stop before you dig yourself a hole there.”

You giggle, “I would, but I’m tired. And I want you to cook me dinner, because you cook really well.”

“Thank you, princess.” Kai takes your hand, his supplies in the other, to start the walk home.

“Don’t forget the knife,” you snort, grabbing it with your own spare hand.

“Definitely don’t forget the knife. Thank you, again, love.” With a final kiss shared between you two, you make your way home. 

[itslottiehere]

i don’t wanna hear about him — h.s

hello beautiful people 🤍 welcome back! i know it’s been a while! but now, i present you a one shot i’m veryyy proud of, and hopefully you’ll find it to your liking as well <3 it’s inspired by harry’s unreleased song, “him.” just fyi, there won’t be a part two of this! as always, please let me know what you think! you can do so in your reblogs, in your tags, or in my asks! your feedback means the world to me. so, without further ado, happy reading! <3

— inspired by “him”, by harry styles

tw: some swear words

word count: 13.5k of pure angst (please get something to drink and tissues)

masterlist | leave your feedback or requests here

6 years before the day.

when harry told her that they were going to attend the same college, she couldn’t believe him. she was sure harry was gonna take a gap year or something, travel around the world, make experiences. all the while she would wait for him patiently, like she always did.

falling for your best friend isn’t the smartest idea, anyone would tell you that. a little of a cliché too, perhaps. but there was nothing she could do against those feelings: they planted their seeds deep into her heart, and bloomed. and they kept doing so.

now, three years into their college career, those feelings had developed deep roots, and it seemed like nothing was ever gonna eradicate them. 

but it was fine, she kept telling herself: it hurt, of course it did, but at least she had harry in her life, in some way. there was only one thing of the utmost importance: not letting harry find out. 

she knew that if he found out, he would run. that’s what he did every time he was faced with difficult situations, and god if this wouldn’t be one. 

so she learned how to mask those feelings, and she got pretty good at that over the course of the years. she couldn’t stand even thinking about not having him in her life, especially as a friend, so if all it took was bottling up her feelings, she would gladly do so. 

harry was happy: he was having fun in college and was seeing people whenever he wanted to, enjoying being a bachelor more than anything. and he was in college with his best friend, who was always there to play with his hair whenever he asked her to. he liked the comfort she brought him, and that’s why he didn’t really stop to think about what it could feel like for her, if it had a different meaning for her.

she’d always look at him as if he put the stars in the sky for her, she had nothing but love for him in those eyes. even if she tried sparing glances at him whenever he wasn’t looking, everyone around her noticed. and every time, harry didn’t. 

or that was what she had always thought. 

actually, and unfortunately, harry did notice, but didn’t know what to do, how to bring up such a topic with a person who he only saw as the best of friends, but nothing more than that.

and maybe, just maybe, he was so arrogant that he loved the attention and didn’t want to deal with the consequences of actually talking about it. 

—

5 years before the day.

graduating was scary for her, almost terrifying. 

a new beginning, once again. not knowing where life would take her, once again. 

and the nagging thought that kept her awake at night, the ones she spent listening to sad love ballads about failed relationships and missed opportunities: would harry still be in her life? she couldn’t help but think that he would move on, and leave her behind on his way to his new life, a memory of his younger years, of the life he wanted to move on from.

harry, on the other hand, was giddy. he didn’t know what the future would hold for him and he couldn’t help but think how exciting this was: a new start, endless possibilities for him to take, no matter how good or bad. “bring it”, he thought. 

she started working at a little coffee shop, just to do something after graduation. she could afford a very small apartment, but didn’t care, because it was something that was finally hers, and she was extremely proud of it. 

harry liked it too, and bought her a plant and a bottle of cheap champagne the day she got the keys.

“to our new lives”, he toasted, raising his glass.

“to going forward”, she added, a whole different meaning to her words from what harry may have thought. 

she really did have a plan to move forward. she knew she had to, the whole thing was becoming more ridiculous each day that passed: harry looked at her as a friend, and that was okay. he had been dating all throughout college, saw people all the time, and she had no real reason to wait for him, not when she knew things wouldn’t ever change. 

if only she had ever caught a glimpse of him looking at her the way she looks at him, or a certain touch that could give her even the littlest doubt of him having feelings. 

but that didn’t happen, not in high school, not in college. and it was just never gonna happen. she just had to make peace with it. 

and she was trying to: she had met a guy, named noah. he came into the coffee shop one afternoon, all wet from the rain. with a tired smile he came up to the counter, and when he looked at her, she could’ve sworn his eyes lit up a little. 

he had a goofy grin on his face, his hair sticking to his forehead, and after he mulled a bit on what to order, glancing at the board, he looked back at her and asked her to make him her favorite drink. 

she nodded, smiled at him, and told him he could take a seat at a table and wait for her to bring him his order. he smiled again, and went to sit down. 

he stayed for a while, almost up until closing time. before going away, noah came up to the counter and kindly asked her “do you happen to have a pen?”. she picked one up and handed it to him, and not even after twenty seconds, he came up to her again, thanked her and gave her the pen back. but not only that: there was also a napkin with his phone number scribbled on it. 

she smiled and heard the little bell of the door ringing. 

she thinks she will call him.

this had happened about a couple of weeks before. harry didn’t know about noah yet.

— 

4 years and 9 months before the day.

she couldn’t believe that she actually started dating someone. it was going slowly, but it was nice. noah was good, he made her laugh and was plenty nice, and as much as this sucked to say, if harry wasn’t going to be her person, then maybe she could be happy with noah. 

harry heard about this noah guy a couple of times. she seemed really fond of him, and he can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. she looked happier then he has seen her in a while. maybe she’s moving on, and she deserved it, he thought.

is she really moving on?

— 

4 years and 6 months before the day.

she really didn’t want to do this. fighting with harry was her least favorite thing to do. 

they kinda lost track on each other in those three months: things began to get more serious with noah, and she actually understood that noah wasn’t second best to harry. he was just another best. 

it was a safe love, a sure one; a place where she didn’t have to wonder if that touch was something more than just that, because she knew it was. 

it’s nice, she thought, to know that you love and are loved back. it’s nice.

so she put all her energies into that relationship, and she was very glad she did: it felt somewhat refreshing, to finally come out of the shadows, to finally put herself first.

but that didn’t mean she expected her best friend of almost 10 years to move across the globe and not tell her. 

he told her by text. a week before he’s supposed to leave.

she told him countless times that some things are not things he was supposed to tell via text messages, and he knew how much she hated it. 

“sometimes you gotta suck it up, be brave and tell someone what the deal is.” she always told him. apparently, she spoke in vain.

“Hi! I know this is kind of out of the blue, but I’m moving back to London next week. I don’t know for how long yet, I guess I’ll make the decision once I’m there, but I wanted to ask you if you want to have a coffee or something before I go, and if so, to let me know. I get that you’re busy now.”

she felt like the last line was probably a bit passive aggressive, but she quickly discarded the idea: he had no reason to be acting like that. yes, she had been busy with noah and with her life for once, and she didn’t give him her undivided attention. so was that it? was that the reason he never brought this up before?

before she could even register what she was doing, she was putting her shoes on and grabbing her car keys.

a loud knock from the door had harry look up from his halfway done suitcase. his phone, resting on the nightstand, unlocked, open on their chat. 

he couldn’t believe she left him on read. he thought news like that, of him leaving for god knew how long, would be enough to at least get a little of her attention. but alas, he was wrong.

he didn’t know whether he was feeling more sad or disappointed, or angry. why did things had to change? why does he feel a weight on his chest every time she turns down a chance to hang out because she already had plans with noah? why was he feeling like that?

and as always, when things got too hard, what did he do? run. and that was the exact same thing he was doing then.

the pounding on the door didn’t let up, so he said loudly: “give me a second, i’m coming.”

he jogged to the door and opened it, not even having the time to actually understand what was happening: she stormed in, moving to stand into his living room, her arms crossed and the most furious look harry had ever seen on her face. 

he was a bit shocked to see her there, in a place she hadn’t been to in almost three months. he didn’t really know what to say.

“hi.” harry said almost questioningly.

“you’re leaving for london for you don’t know how long and you didn’t even have the gall to tell me in person?” she was practically seething, her face stony, but her eyes burning into his.

“i-uh, i knew you were-“

“don’t even try to repeat that “i’ve been busy”. you know it’s a big change, a fucking huge one, and you choose to tell me in a fucking text?” the volume of her voice was increasingly raising. “what is wrong with you?”

that set harry off. “what is wrong with me?” he stepped forward. “am i the one who disappeared on you for three months? am i the one who ignored you the few times we actually got to hang out because i was too distracted by my boyfriend, who couldn’t help but text me while he knew i was out?” he was almost screaming, a tone of his voice she had never heard before, and hoped she never had to again. 

even if she didn’t know if there was anything else left to be said between them after this fight.

“you are-“ she scoffed. “you are something else.” 

she often told him that phrase, whenever he did or said something she couldn’t believe, but it was always followed by a laugh. this time, though, a laugh was the last thing on her mind. 

“when for once in- what, almost 10 years of friendship - i stop putting you on a fucking pedestal and put myself first, you start acting like a spoiled little kid? really?” she was in disbelief, she couldn’t believe the audacity he had to say that.

“i’m not-”

“oh but you are, you fucking are. and you know what makes my blood boil?” she paused and almost murmured her next words. “the fact that you never realized that you pulled this shit on me all the time, every single time you got into a relationship: once you’d find a partner, you’d put me on the back burner. and what did i always do?” she pointed her finger towards him for the next sentence. “i’d always let you. wanna know why? because i knew that once you get into a relationship, you need to cut some time with just the other person. and i always let you do whatever you wanted, never once complaining.” 

she shook her head, closed her eyes, and went on. “and now that i am the one in a relationship with a guy who loves me, who makes me feel happy and safe, who i’m sure is not gonna bolt as soon as i don’t give him my undivided attention, you’re here pointing your finger at me because you haven’t been my priority these last couple of months?” if she hadn’t closed her eyes, she would’ve seen harry visibly cringing at the concept of “love” associated by her to noah. even he couldn’t really understand why it hit him so hard.

“let me just-” he tried to talk back but was once again interrupted by her.

“no, i won’t let you, because i don’t need to hear anything from you: the way you behaved in making such a life changing decision already told me a lot of how highly you think of me.” the phrase was dowsed in sarcasm. 

she went towards the door, grabbed the handle and as she was about to walk out of that apartment and possibly his life, she turned back and told him one last thing. “i guess it’s good to know who’s the one who’s always gonna leave at the littlest inconvenience.”

she slammed the door on her way out.

she walked home, silent and angry tears streaming down her face. she had never been that mad in her life, and especially never with harry, but no matter how angry she felt, she was at least twice as sad. she was always afraid of this happening, of them on not being friends and going their separate ways, and knowing her biggest fear had become a horrible reality, was making her spiral. 

she knew her anger was her mind’s way of softening the blow, of making her think that somehow she wasn’t the reason she was gonna lose her best friend, that harry made the decision for the both of them by hiding the move from her.

she knew all of this, and her anger quickly dissipated, leaving room for pure sadness to take over. 

grabbing her phone, she quickly typed a message.

to noah:

“can’t come out tonight, i'll see you later”

noah responded almost immediately. 

“Oh okay, that’s fine! If you need anything, I’m right here for you :)”

yeah, he was there. he was the one who was staying. 

she put her phone away, and kept walking home.

harry stayed put on that spot right outside the living room for at least 5 minutes after she left. 

she left, she left, she left.

he didn’t know what he was feeling. jealousy, anger, sadness, disappointment, surprise, resentment, regret, shame of himself, he was feeling it all.

he hated that she didn’t let him talk, that she didn’t let him explain why he was leaving. 

but when he actually thought about it, what was he gonna tell her? why was he really leaving? was it really the grad school he applied to? couldn’t he find one just as good there? did he really have to put all that distance between them to attend some school?

he knew the answer. he knew, but running away was easier than facing the truth.

he went back to his room, head hanging low, not sure on what to do. he walked in and looked at the half made bag, the clothes messily thrown in there.  he sighed, picked it up and moved it from the bed. he went to get his journal, hidden in the little drawer of his nightstand. 

it was an old leather journal, one he had ever since he was a teen, a place for him to express himself in a way that he couldn’t do with simple sentences and words, where he could scribble all kind of thoughts, draw some doodles, write some quotes from someone else that he liked, and sometimes some of his own. 

he chose a blank page, picked up his pen, and started writing what he couldn’t tell her, what he could barely admit to himself.

“so you were right, there’s always two:

the one who stays, and the one who’s leaving you.

hear me out, my apologies,

‘cause i’m not here for sympathy.”

—

4 years and 5 months and 3 weeks before the day.

he was leaving in a matter of hours. she knew that, but her pride still wouldn’t let her make the first step. during that week, she got to know the reason why he was leaving, thanks to an old classmate who somehow found out: he got into an amazing grad school, and she immediately knew there was no reason for him to turn down such an opportunity.

she knew she didn’t let him explain why he was leaving, and she regretted that, but that didn’t change the main problem: he was mad at her because she stopped being at his beck and call. he was so used to her putting him first than anyone else — especially herself — and now that she didn’t, he behaved like a spoiled little kid.

harry knew how much she cared for him, and how she would’ve dropped anything if he was ever in need. he knew and he used that knowledge somewhat against her: it felt like he saw as an ornament, that he could put up on a shelf and leave there to collect dust when he was bored and pick her back up once he was done with other ornaments. she felt disposable. she felt that that’s what she was to harry. 

she tried, she tried so hard to convince herself that it wasn’t the case, that harry missed her because he cared about her as a person and not because he saw her as someone he was used to.

but he was leaving in a matter of hours, and she didn’t hear from him ever since she stormed out of his apartment.

it was around 2am, and sleep just wouldn’t come to her. she didn’t know at what time his flight would leave, if he packed all the things if he was gonna need, if he remembered to pack the journal she has seen plenty of times but was never lucky enough to read. she knew it was like a safety blanket for him, that he brought it with him basically anywhere.

she kept turning in her bed, not able to find a comfortable position. she sighed, turned on her right side and faced the window of her bedroom. the sky was a deep blue, but clear. 

“maybe the flight will be smooth, then” she thought. 

she sighed, closed her eyes and begged sleep to come, but her mind was racing, mostly with the knowledge that her best friend was gonna leave and maybe never come back. and that he didn’t even think about apologizing to her, that he’d rather leave everything than face-

the sound of something hitting her bedroom window stopped her train of thoughts. was it hailing? no, it couldn’t be, the sky was clear.

she groaned and got up from her bed, put her arms around herself to somewhat maintain a little of the warmth she had in bed, and walked to look outside her window.

and who could be there, if not her dumbass of a best friend?

harry crouched down to pick up a few more pebbles, not ones big enough to break her window or else she would have a whole other reason to hate him.

his flight was at 10, so he still had a little time left and he couldn’t go away before seeing her. it was hard for him, to admit that he was in the wrong, that he was such an arrogant son of a bitch that he’d rather lose his best friend than admit he was jealous.

not that he’d admit that to her, he knew that much. but he also knew he had to apologize, even if it was at the last second.

once he found some good pebbles, he stood up and was getting ready to throw one once again. but at the window stood her, in her plaid pjs bottoms, looking at him.

he gave her a timid smile, and she gestured with her hand for him to come upstairs. 

she waited at her door, not knowing what to do. what was she gonna say? was it gonna be a nice moment or was it gonna be another fight? why was she feeling anxious with harry, the one person she never felt anxious with? she didn’t like feeling like this, not at all.

harry was waiting at her doorstep. if it was a different occasion, he would’ve used the set of keys she had made for him; but this wasn’t that kind of occasion, and maybe at the end of this night, if it didn’t go as he planned, he would’ve had to leave them there. he shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and raised his fist to knock on the door, but it opened before he could make contact with it. 

she stood there, almost timidly, unsure of what was gonna happen. 

“hi.” he murmured.

she finally looked at him, her eyes tired, but, heartbreakingly enough for harry, not with sleep. “hi. please, come in.” she moved aside, and let him in.

harry murmured a small /‘thank you’/,  and moved inside. he was standing right in the middle of the room, not knowing where to go, not knowing if he was even welcome in that place anymore. 

she looked at him kinda funnily, tilted her head and said: “you know you can also not stand there like a statue and-”

“i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry, darling.” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “i’ve been a shit friend and what i did is awful, and i know this apology doesn’t mean anything, but-”

“harr-” she tried to interrupt.

“no, please, let me talk this time.” he said, and moved to sit on the couch. “you were right, i behaved like a brat. i’ve never done anything this wrong before, i know i screwed up and i know i let you down.” he took a deep breath. “i just want you to know that i’m not moving because of you and noah, but because i got accepted in this school in london,-”

“i- uh, i know.” she gulped. “congratulations.” 

he was kind of surprised, “oh, you know?” she nodded. “well, yeah- so i got into this school and i was very happy about it, but it killed me that i couldn’t celebrate that with you. and i’m not saying it was your fault, because it was definitely mine: i wanted you to be around 24/7 like it always has been and it was wrong of me. i’m happy for you and noah seems like an amazing guy, and you deserve nothing less. i’m so sorry.” he ended, looking deep into her eyes.

she went to sit down next to him, “can i talk now?” he nodded. “i accept your apology. i know it was hard for you to admit you were wrong, and i really appreciate it.” she took a breath. “i’m sad you didn’t tell me, yes. but what hurts me the most was feeling like i was disposable to you.” 

harry winced at that. “please, don’t say that, you’re killing me.”

she turned around to face him better. “i’m sorry, but it’s true, that’s how i felt. i know you don’t see me that way, i know it now, but it sure felt like it. to me, it was /‘hey, i’m moving to this cool place for however long and i didn’t care about telling you until the last second. see ya!’/” she took a breath, and went on. “but i’m glad you came here, and that you said all the things you said. thank you.”

harry lowered his head. “you shouldn’t have to thank me.” he murmured. “you didn’t deserve the way i treated you.”

“yeah,” she nodded, “you’re right, i didn’t. but you apologised and i accepted it. so now instead of being all sad, why don’t you tell me more about this fancy school?” she smiled, getting more comfortable on the couch. 

he smiled right back at her, and started talking about what the future had in store for him.

we’ll be alright, he thought.

they kept talking all night, laughing at the memories and full of faith in the future. harry stayed there as long as he could, soaking up all of /her/ he could get, but around 5am, their time was up: harry had to get ready for the airport, and she had to open at the coffee shop in a couple of hours.

“so” he gulped, “i guess this is goodbye.” 

“c’mon harry, don’t be so sad.” she smiled softly, although she was breaking a bit inside. but she added, “it’s not like we won’t see each other anymore! i’ll visit, you’ll visit, we’ll facetime all the time - oh, let’s make a pact! if not every night, at least 4 times a week we have to facetime. deal?”

harry smiled, and nodded. “deal.”

we’ll be alright, she thought.

they hug goodbye at the door, clinging to each other a little longer than usual. this wasn’t a goodbye, he wasn’t leaving her, this was just a see you later. he hoped she knew that.

now, it was time for the next chapter, for the both of them.

—

3 years and 1 month before the day.

“harry? can you hear me?” 

“yeah, just a sec-”

“as much as i love your ceiling, i’d like to see your face. what, did you get a haircut? is it bad?”

“no, you little shit, give me a second.” she could hear the smile on his lips. “here- there you go, i’m here.” he adjusted his phone, so she could see him well enough.

“hi! no haircut i see.” she smiled. “that’s for the better, i’ve always loved your long hair.” that sentence made harry’s heart flutter. it seemed that’s the only reaction it had whenever she was involved.

“i know you did, who can forget the tears you shed when i cut it short?” he smiled smugly.

she was immediately offended. “hey! it was the perfect length for me to braid it, you looked so pretty. my reaction was more than justified.” she pouted.

“alright, alrig-”

“baby? here’s your tea.” a deeper voice came through his speaker. of fucking course. 

her face lit up as soon as the person who spoke came into the room. “ah, thanks baby!” she puckered her lips, and noah gave her a soft quick peck, before realising she wasn’t alone.

“oh hi harry!” noah waved. “how’s it going? everything good?”

harry swallowed his envy and his jealousy, barely. “yeah-” he cleared his voice. “yeah, everything is good. you?”

“oh yeah, thank you! i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to interrupt.” he smiled a bit embarrassed. “i didn’t realise it was facetime time, but i’ll get out of your hair immediately. bye harry!” he said louder, and then added softly. “bye dear.” he gave her a quick peck on the top of her head, and left the room. 

she didn’t stop smiling throughout the whole interaction. and that made harry’s blood boil. but it wasn’t the time to be upset now, now that she was in front of him. 

“sorry, since he moved in we are trying to figure out a schedule for the both of us, i forgot he got off early today.” she said softly. 

yeah, he moved in. she broke the news to harry a couple of weeks before and he had to pretend to be thrilled about it. he couldn’t help it: not even being oceans apart from her helped him ease the pain, and also the fact that he had been gone for over a year didn’t make this any easier. 

“it’s okay.” he said, pretending. “how’s it going with you guys?” he’d prefer a stake through his heart rather than hearing her response, but he also knew he had to ask, being her friend. what if she wasn’t happy?

“oh, it’s amazing.” she smiled. “it’s just like- getting extra time with your best friend, you know? like, you know when you are out with a friend and you just don’t want to leave them and go home?” he nodded. he felt that way every time he hang out with her, and harry wanted to smack his old self for not doing something about it when he had the chance. “and now, i don’t have to wish for him to not leave, because he’s here! so yeah, it’s pretty great.” 

he nodded silently, a soft smile on his lips. even if all he wanted was to be noah right then, he couldn’t help but be excited for her: she was so happy, happier than he had ever seen her. “that’s amazing, love. you deserve it.” 

she smiled as well, “thank you, harry. and i finally don’t have to fight with someone who steals all the covers and leaves me in the cold!” she added, trying to lighten the mood.

he pretended to be shocked and offended. “okay, that happened one— or two times if we’re exaggerating, and it was cold! i had to!” 

their banter went back and forth for a little while, laughing like always. harry tried to ignore the heartache the thought of them being all domestic gave him, at least up until they’d end their call. so he pushed his thoughts aside, and focused on enjoying the company of his best friend.

“alright, i’m afraid i have to go now.” she pouted. “but i’ll talk to you tomorrow, or in the following days? just- whenever you want! alright?” 

“yeah, of course.” he smiled. “goodbye, darling. talk soon.”

“goodbye, harry.”

“bye.”

once the call ended, harry threw his head back, groaning. why did it all have to be so difficult? why couldn’t he have realised how he really felt before? why couldn’t he have realised it when he slept over at her place, when he could feel her hair on his face, her body close to his? why couldn’t he have realised it before she fell for someone who didn’t steal all the covers?

as all the other times when his thoughts were too loud, he opened his desk drawer and looked for his — now even more — worn leather journal, flipping to the pages to /that/ particular page, and got his pen ready. the ink flowed easily on the paper. 

“cause i don’t want to hear about him, 

how he’s holding you better at night.”

—

1 year and 4 months before the day.

“what the fuck?” she screamed through the speaker. “what the actual fuck? when?” 

he chuckled. “in a couple of months. i thought it was better telling you face to face, or at least through a phone call, rather than a text.” 

“and you were right! oh my god, i can’t believe you’re coming home in two months.” he couldn’t see her face, but he could hear she was smiling. she went on, voice a bit quieter this time around. “for good? are you coming home for good?”

“technically, the UK is my home-”

“oh shut it, styles.” she interrupted. “you know what i mean.” he did. and he knew that home was the right term, because home was wherever she was. 

“yeah, for good i think, or at least for a long while.” he said, stopping at a red light. 

his brakes made a screeching sound, telling her exactly what he was doing. 

“wait- are you driving? it’s not safe! i’m ending the call, we’ll talk once-”

“hey, slow down. i am driving, and you’re on speaker. i called you as soon as i was out of the office because i couldn’t hold it in any longer.” he said, smiling. 

“aw, you’re cute when you want to.” she breathed a laugh. “but now, let’s talk business: your homecoming party!”

“as i said, since i’m from the UK, i’m actually already-”

“oh, fuck off!”

—

1 year and 2 months before the day.

“noah, kill the lights! everyone hide and be quiet!”

“yes, ma’am.” one of their friends whispered.

she had been behaving a bit like a drill sergeant, but she couldn’t care less: her best friend was finally coming home and nothing — absolutely nothing — could go wrong. she missed him so much, and she couldn’t wait to share the news. 

just not tonight, because tonight was all about him and him only. 

her phone screen lit up, an incoming call from harry. she swiped her finger on the screen and answered him. “hello?”

“hey! i’m almost at your place, are you home? i didn’t see your car.” that was because she had carefully parked it a couple of blocks from her apartment to sell her story.

“yeah, sorry, i got caught up at work! i’ll be home in a little bit, i’ll try to get out of here as soon as possible! i’m so sorry.” she lied through her teeth.

“no, uh, don’t be- it’s fine.” he sounded a bit sad and perhaps disappointed. 

all was going according to plan.

“please, go in! i don’t know if you still have your key, but there’s one under the doormat!; make yourself at home!”

“of course i still have it, what do you think?” he chuckled. “alright, i’m going up the stairs, i’ll see you soon.”

“alright! bye for now!”

“bye bye.” harry murmured, ending the call. he put his phone in his back pocket, before jogging up the last flight of stairs. once he was in front of the door, he took out his keys, but stopped. “please, don’t let noah be home.” he thought. 

he put the key in the lock, turned it to open the door, and walked in the place that felt like home more than anywhere in the world.

as he was closing the door, the lights came up. “what the-”

“SURPRISE!!” her living room was filled with their friends, all smiling at him. but he only saw one face in the midst of them, because her smile was brighter than all the others. 

“fuck me, you guys were about to make me drop dead on the floor.” he chuckled and the others joined him. he pointed his finger towards his best friend, “you fucker.”

“welcome home, harry!” she said smiling, going towards him to wrap him in a hug. 

he was home.

the party was going splendidly: almost everyone was tipsy, someone more than the others — harry talked to everyone who was there, but all he really wanted was to talk to her.

“it’s nice seeing your face in real life.” he slurred, a bit intoxicated.

“oh well, thank you, i guess?” she smiled, and reached for her drink. 

and that’s when the light hit something sparkly on her finger, and harry’s heart fell to his stomach. his mouth dry, his eyes unblinking.

“what is that?” he murmured, so low she could barely hear it.

she frowned, and followed his line of sight. when she understood what he was looking at, she quickly lowered her hand to her side. “fuck, i forgot to take it off before you came here.” she looked up at him with her eyes wide. 

did she plan on keeping this hidden from me? he couldn’t understand what was going on, his mind was spinning from the news, and the alcohol in his system wasn’t helping.  

“i wanted to tell you the news in person, but i wanted tonight to be just about you! i was gonna tell you tomorrow or in the following days, fuck i screwed it all up now.” she groaned and put her hand on her eyes. 

harry shook his head, trying to find his voice. “no, no, it’s okay.” he breathed a deep breath. “congratulations.”

she looked at him with a crooked smile. “thank you, harry.” she paused. “i’m still mad at myself, it was supposed to be a cute moment, i had it all planned out! i was gonna take you to breakfast and tell you and then i even wrote you a little riddle to ask you to be my best-” she slapped her hand over her mouth. “oh fuck! i can’t believe i literally ruined it all now!”

well, wasn’t it just the cherry on top of the sundae of awful that was his life? 

not only did he have to watch the girl of his dreams get married: he literally had a front row seat at the altar. 

his head was spinning so fast he could barely think straight, the realisation that he lost her, that he lost all his chances to have her as more than a friend, that he threw away all the possibilities he had, all of this broke his heart in two. nothing he went through ever hurt him like this, nothing ever made him want to throw up, cry, scream and runaway all at once. 

he didn’t know what to say, what to feel: he knew noah was good to her and that she deserved nothing less, so why was he so angry? was he such a selfish idiot that he couldn’t even be happy for his best friend? 

“so, since it’s all out, would you be my best man?” she asked him, her eyes full of hope staring at him.

and what could he do if not say yes?

he didn’t stay long at the party after the big news blew up in his face, leaving with the excuse of being jet lagged. he tried telling noah he would drive back by himself — he really did — but the man wouldn’t stand down, saying he had drunk too much and it was not safe for him to drive in that moment.

harry would have loved nothing more than to find a string of bad qualities in him, in order to make her leave him, but there was nothing: noah was a good guy, a good friend and evidently an even better boyfriend.

asshole.

the drive back to his place was embarrassing, silent and just weird, but probably it was more for harry than for noah. once they got to his place, harry basically jumped out of the car, murmuring a low “goodnight”. 

but before driving away, noah rolled down the car window and called after him.

“hey, harry!” harry turned around, hoping this would be over soon. he went on, “i just wanted to say i’m very happy you’re back, and that i’m glad you’re her best man. she was so excited about asking you.” noah smiled. “just- thank you in advance for everything. i know you’ll be on the receiving end of her wedding planning freak outs.” he chuckled. 

harry nodded slowly, feeling emptier and emptier inside. “of course, no problem. bye.” 

noah waved and pulled up his car window. 

once the car drove away, harry rushed into his apartment, and slammed the door. 

he couldn’t help but let the tears run free, finally letting his pain overtake him. his breath was coming out in small puffs, and he couldn’t control the agonising sounds he was letting out. it felt like he was living his worst nightmare, and actually he really was.

he knew. he had known all those years, he knew she was in love with him. and he always ignored it — “for the friendship”, he told himself. and of course, he only realised his love for her when she moved on. when she found someone who loved her as much as she loved him.

maybe if i try harder to be a better person, a better friend for her. he thought.

maybe if i did something differently.

but perhaps, the best way for him to be a better friend was being there for her as her best friend and best man, and to not interfere. he would have to put his feelings aside, and accept that he had a chance — multiple ones, at that — and didn’t take it. and he didn’t really have the right to cry now that he was too late. now that he realised that this was how she must’ve felt all those years.

he stood up, and went to his half unpacked bedroom, and picked up his journal. the page was easy to find now, a picture of them signalling the pages filled with his regret. 

the ink flowed easily, and so did the tears.

“do you know what it’s like to fall in love from the outside?

and i don’t know, but i've been trying for you, for me.

now i know what it’s like to fall in love from the outside.”

—

6 months and 1 week before the day.

“i swear to god, if this shop doesn’t have a nice dress i’m getting married in sweats.”

harry laughed at her. “c’mon now, you drama queen.”

she turned to look at him, shocked at his reaction. “easy for you to say, mister. you just have to find a tux that fits or wear one you already have! i don’t happen to have a white dress with a big puffy skirt in my wardrobe, unfortunately.” 

harry smiled at her antics: this was definitely not the first freak out about the wedding. a couple of months before it was the invitations, and the debate on what shade of white was the best one to pick. harry got a bunch of smacks to his head because he couldn’t see the difference between a pearly white and a less pearly white. shocking.

saying she was stressed was a huge understatement, she could plan everything till the last detail, but you never know how many things could go wrong: you could lose your veil, the flowers may not be delivered, the dress could get stained… so many things he couldn’t have control on and it was driving her crazy.

and now, the next mission was finding the right dress. all the ones she had tried on were either too big, too small, too sexy, too modest, or made her look like a meringue. and the stress was getting to her, because she had been more whiny than usual and she could cry at the idea of trying on yet another dress. 

but there was one last shop they had to look at, and she hoped it would be where she could find the dress of her dreams. 

the shop was filled to the brim with white gowns, and harry was praying to god they would find the dress. he was sat down on one of those comfy sofas, two older ladies following the bride-to-be in the changing room, getting her ready for him to see the dresses.

she came out and from the look on her face, harry could tell she was most definitely not amused, but refrained from talking her thoughts out loud so not to make the shop assistants feel bad. 

“we’ll be right over, dear. just call us if or when you want to try on another dress.” the woman on her right gave her arm a light squeeze, and walked away with her colleague. 

she turned around to look at harry, shoulders slumped, a frown on her face.

“i look awful, don’t i?”

you never do, he thought. “why do you say that?” he said.

“it’s all wrong: the skirt is wrong, the neckline isn’t good, i hate the way my arms look in this, it’s just- ugh.” she sighed. 

harry could see how she was getting worked up, so he told her what he always did whenever she was going crazy about the wedding: “hey, take a deep breath. c’mon.” he did the exercise with her. “breathe in - 1, 2, 3, 4. keep it in - 1, 2, 3, 4. and, breathe out - 1, 2, 3, 4. that’s it, keep going.”

she did this a couple more times, and she could feel herself calm down. 

“oof- okay. i think i’m ready to try on a couple more dresses. would you mind calling the ladies for me?”

“of course. go back in there, i’ll be right here.” he squeezed her hand, and went to find the shop assistants.

after trying three more dresses, she was tired and mostly disappointed. she just wanted to get over with this dress hunt, so after the third failure, she turned to harry. “okay, i’m done. i’m getting out of this and i wanna go home.”

harry nodded. “okay, whatever you want.. but may i propose something?” he inquired. “can i see if i can find a dress for you? just- give me five minutes, and if you don’t like it we’ll be on our way. okay?”

“mmh. okay.”

so off he went. 

and boy, did he found a dress. he knew he hit the jackpot, and couldn’t wait to see how she looked in it. almost jumping on the couch from the excitement, he patiently waited.

she was definitely worth the wait. 

it was a bit bigger, and he knew she’d want to make some alterations, but he also knew there wasn’t a dress more perfect for her. 

she was beaming with joy. a smile so big it must’ve hurt her cheeks, but she didn’t care. that was the dress.

up until she saw the price tag.

“goddamn, styles, did you really have to find it in the priciest part of the shop?” she exclaimed and harry looked confused, so she continued. “i couldn’t get this dress in my wildest dreams! it’s too much.”

harry stood up and went to stand behind her, in front of the mirror, and put his hands on her shoulders. “i’m sure if you cut a little on some things, you can afford this. god, i would even pay for what you can’t pay yourself. just- look at you. you’re beautiful.” he looked at her eyes reflecting on the mirror, and saw the darker pinkish shade that coloured her cheeks. 

“i do look nice, don’t i?” she scrunched her nose and smiled. 

“plenty nice.” harry smiled back.

and so the dress was found, at last. she talked to the store ladies for the alterations and such, and afterwards harry walked her home.

“thank you, H. i can’t believe you found my dress!”

“hey, my last name is “styles” after all, isn’t it?”

she looked at him, jaw dropped. “jesus christ, that was worse than your knock knock jokes.” 

harry went back to his apartment, ready to finally let his walls down and stop pretending seeing her in that white dress wasn’t making him want to die. 

“god, what a mess.”

the rest of the day went by, he was just about to make dinner when the doorbell rang. he wasn’t expecting company, but maybe it was his 83-year-old neighbour needing something. 

he went to open the door, and he wasn’t expecting to find his best friend standing there, her face stained with tears, makeup running down from her eyes.

“may i come in?” she murmured, voice broken. harry felt his knees buckle, all he wanted was to hug her and make her problems go away. but that was the thing; what had happened to reduce her to this state?

harry moved to the side. “of course, please.”

she made her way into his home, so warm, so familiar. she asked him if she could go to the restroom to freshen up, so now he was waiting for her in his bedroom, as always when they had to talk over things. 

once she came into his view, he saw that her cheeks were still flushed, her nose red and her make up still a bit smudged. he pat the bed and silently invited her to sit down, so she could talk about whatever was wrong. 

she sat down and kept quiet for a couple of minute, until the silent tears began streaming once again. 

“god, i’m so sorry.” she sniffled. “i must seem so ridiculous right now.”

harry shook his head. “no, no, absolutely not. just- what happened?” did something happen with noah? was she safe?

“it’s nothing with noah, that i can tell you. or i don’t know, maybe it is at some capacity. it’s just-” she sighed, and closed her eyes in order not to break down again. “i’m a bit overwhelmed, i guess? the dress shop called to tell me that they’d have the dress back in a couple of weeks so i could go in and try it. and while i should be ecstatic about that, all i felt was anxiety: i couldn’t breathe and i was thinking that maybe this was all happening too fast and that perhaps it’s better to call off all of this and just reschedule it.” she took a deep breath, and added lowly. “or maybe just call it off for good.”

harry’s mind was spinning, this was his chance, to swoop in and get the girl. 

but he didn’t want to. because it wasn’t right, to her first and foremost. but also to him, because if she wanted to be with him, to really be with him, she had to be in the right state of mind. 

plus, he would never, ever do something this manipulating to anyone, especially not her. 

“i see. uhm- i, i don’t really know what to say.” he paused, while she wiped her eyes, getting makeup all over her hands and around her eyes. “i just want you to know that i’m always here for you, and that if you change your mind i’ll be the one driving the getaway car.” he tried to make a joke, and he succeeded in making her crack a smile through the tears. “i want you to be sure of what you do, whether it’s getting married, rescheduling or calling it off. and i also want you to know that getting cold feet is absolutely normal before any big change. and god, this is a huge one.” 

“it’s just- what if it’s not what i want it to be, what i want my marriage to look like? what if it all changes?” she inquired.

“why would it change? it’s just a title, instead of boyfriend and girlfriend, you’ll be husband and wife. you can see it as just that, if that’s what makes you worry.”

“but what if i’m not enough for him? what if he’s not enough for me? what if we end up resenting each other down the line?” she sniffled and accidentally wiped her hands on his sheets, leaving a trail of makeup in its wake. “fuck, i’m sorry. damn it.”

“don’t worry about that.” harry smiled softly. “as for the rest, i’m not sure i’m the guy you should be talking to right now. i’m not married-” and i’m not the one you’re marrying, he wanted to add. “but i know that communication is the key in relationships, and even if it’s hard at times, it’s the right thing to do. who knows, maybe noah is having the same doubts? maybe he’s scared as well and doesn’t know if he should or should not talk to you about it?” 

she seemed to sober up little by little, understanding that harry was right, that she needed to talk to noah and work it all through with him, no matter the outcome. so she nodded, and agreed with harry. “yeah, yeah you’re right, i should talk it over with noah. i’m sorry for all of this.” she breathed a smile. “god, i’m such a mess.”

“hey, none of that. it’s fine and absolutely normal to have doubts, i’m glad you came to me.” he smiled. “want me to walk you home?”

“no, no, i drove here, i’m good.” she looked up to him, opened her ams and took him in a hug. once her face was right next to his ear, she said softly “you really are my best man, do you know that?” 

not good enough to be the one you want to spend your life with, clearly. “thanks.”

night came and enveloped his room, but sleep refused to close his eyes: harry was twisting and turning, scared of the future for the first time in his life. it was all getting so close, too close and too fast. he wasn’t ready to lose her, he wasn’t ready to wave goodbye any future they could have had together.

he wasn’t ready, and yet did nothing to change it. the only thing he did was picking up that damn journal, and adding to the lines he had already written. 

“that nice dress in my wildest dreams,

lipstick stains you left still on my sheets.”

—

2 months and 6 days before the day.

“what about shots?” 

“yeah!” various voices exclaimed. 

“god, no.”

“harry, i planned this bachelorette party two months early because i didn’t want to be hangover close to the wedding. c’mon old man!” she tugged his arm to make him stand up and accompany her to the bar, and harry scoffed.

“can’t believe i have to force you to do shots, it was always the way around.” she huffed while struggling to guide him to the bar.

harry laughed through his nose. “that was because we were younger. you’re gonna hate yourself tomorrow morning, and i’m gonna hate you too if you force me to drink my body weight.”

“okay grandpa.” she said in a deep voice, mocking his accent. 

so, shots they did. god, so many shots.

they were giggling like teenagers, as if they were back to their college days.

she had missed the feeling, and harry couldn’t not feel the same.

they couldn’t talk without laughing every two sentences, and each others laugh made the other laugh even harder, and so it became an endless cycle of hysterical laughter that didn’t let them breathe. 

“so, bride to be,” harry slurred, dopey smile adorning his face. “how are we feeling about the big day?”

she took another shot, squinted her eyes from the burn, and answered, voice as slurred as his. “we are feeling good right now.” she laughed. “very good. i’m happy.” 

“good, good.” harry nodded, his voice unconvincing.

“hey, look at me.” she grabbed his chin and turned his face to face her. “are you-” she stopped, and stared at him for a second. “god, you have amazing eyes, you know that?” 

harry laughed and squinted his eyes, “okay, now i’m sure you’re wasted.” he tore himself away from her hands, even if he didn’t want to. 

“heyyyy, am not!” she said, faking offence. “what makes you say that?”

“because, silly, you always used to say that when we were partying in college. once you said i had “amazing eyes”, i knew it was time to take you home.” 

“aw, look at you, knowing all about me.” she singsonged. “you’re the best of friends, you know that?” she grinned. “any man, woman, anyone would be lucky to have you by their side, bub. i mean it.” 

harry smiled, but his heart sunk a little. 

yeah, anyone. anyone, but you.

“thank you, darling. no more drinks for you, though.”

“aw, you’re such a buzzkill.” she whined. “maybe just another one? just one, i promise!”

getting home was hard, knowing he was gonna be alone was even harder. only his journal was waiting for him, laying on the opposite side of his bed, the words already ready to fill up those pages.

“when i hear “amazing eyes”,

it breaks my heart evеry time.”

—

3 weeks and 2 days before the day.

“hey! come on in.” harry stepped aside to let her make her way in. “and you brought chinese food!”

“yeah well, i figured you’d be hungry.” she came in, left the food onto the kitchen table and started taking her coat off. “and i also had to bribe you with something for the favour i need to ask you.” 

harry took her coat and her scarf and went to place it on his bed. “of course you’d be nice to me just because you need something.” he scoffed. “what a friend you are.”

“hey, it’s not true! i’m always nice to you, but i really need help and we both know you’re the one who has a better way with words between the two of us.”

harry came back to the kitchen, where she was setting the table. the scene looked and felt so domestic, so homey. so heartbreakingly familiar. “and how would you know?”

she laughed while opening up the containers. “are you kidding? i always saw you writing in that worn leather journal in school. maybe it was your diary, but i wouldn’t know because /someone/ would never let me read anything from it.” 

“that’s because you’re nosy and that journal is private.” he grabbed the plates. “c’mon now, i’m starving. we can talk about what you need help with while we eat.”

so, apparently what she needed help with was writing her wedding vows.

her fucking wedding vows.

harry almost choked on his food when she spoke. 

“your-” he gulped. “your wedding vows?” 

help with your promises, your deepest declarations of love for a man with whom you’re gonna spend your life? a man who’s gonna wake up to you every morning while i become the sad uncle to your beautiful children? really?

“yeah! i’m desperate, i wouldn’t have asked you if i wasn’t in deep shit right now. i’m going crazy and the wedding is getting close and i don’t know what to do other than beg for your help, so please, please-” she was getting worked up. 

she had tried to do that by herself, she really did: she just couldn’t put any words down, not any that sounded good anyway. which is why harry was her last resort, she knew he was modest, but he had a way with words. 

his good looks got him with people through college, yes, but the boy was a smooth talker. people were drawn to him by the looks, but they were truly captured by his words. 

so, who better then the guy she used to have a crush on for years to help her write her promises to her future husband? yeah, the situation was desperate.

“uhm.” harry scratched the back of his head. how the hell was he supposed to help her with such a thing? “i- i just don’t know if-”

“hey, it’s fine if you don’t want to. i can just try to look up on the internet.” she smiled, not a real smile. “i just- i guess i wanted them to be special. and it kills me i can’t do this by myself.” she shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but harry could see how much this thing made her sad. 

“no, uhm- it’s okay. i think we can work on something.”

as soon as he said those words, she smiled big, and harry knew he made the right choice. “thank you so much, harry. thank you. you have no idea how much this means to me.” 

so now they were on the couch, brainstorming ideas. 

“so, i said you want the vows to be more personal, obviously. so maybe, something about what you did together? like, what about your first date?”

“oh yeah, it was nice! i invited him over to make some brownies for maddie’s birthday party, do you remember?” did he remember? he fucking suggested it. they would always bake the cakes, or any sweets, for their friends’ birthdays, but that day he was busy — had a date with a person he wanted to go out with for so long, and it ended up being mind-blowingly boring  — so he suggested she invites noah over to help her out. 

and then that was it.

he still would curse himself for that stupid idea, for suggesting that date, for suggesting a thing that was usually just for the two of them as a date with another person. he was jealous, incredibly so, and he just wished she had him in his mind whenever he thought about that date. he was selfish, and he knew that, but that’s what anger and envy brings you to do. 

“yeah, i remember.” he nodded. “then maybe you can write down about that.”

“i remember how we ended up making the brownies all too runny.” she laughed. “and i had more flour in our hair than the one we ended up using for the baking. it was such a lovely date.” still smiling, she looked up to him. “it kinda made me remember how we used to bake for our friends, we’d always make it end in a food fight. it was so fun.”

harry nodded, a bit cocky in knowing that what he wanted — for her to remember him when she thought about that first date. “i bet it was.” 

they went on, sharing ideas and lines back and forth, until she could see harry’s eyes closing. “okay H, time for me to leave you alone and make you go to sleep. let me just help you with the stuff in the kitchen.” she stood up and went towards the kitchen, but harry grabbed her wrist to stop her.

“hey no, leave it there: i’ll tidy up tomorrow morning, i’m just to tired right now. i just wanna go to sleep.”

tilting her head to the side, she looked at him softly. “okay, okay. goodnight sleepy head, i’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“nighty night. can you lock the door please?” 

“of course, harry. go to bed now, you’re spent!”

harry was tired, yes. physically, of course, but emotionally? he was tired on another level, he couldn’t stand talking about their vows a second longer. he felt like he was gonna be sick, pass out or die if they did, so he kinda exaggerated his tiredness, so that this could be over and he could just drown himself in his sadness and pain. 

as soon as she was out the door, and he heard her walking away, he let himself break down. he got up from the couch, tears staining his cheeks, trying so hard to catch a breath between all the sobs. this was killing him, ever so slowly. 

he walked into his room, turning on the lights and noticed her coat and scarf was still there. he thought about texting her about it, but he couldn’t even see straight: he was not okay. he had not been in a while, and it was getting so much worse with everyday the wedding got closer, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. he wanted to scream, he wanted to put his fist through the wall, to let the world know that he wasn’t okay with what was happening, that it wasn’t right, not in the slightest; he knew he was late, he knew. but why couldn’t he have one last chance? just one chance. 

“fuck.” he sobbed. “fuck this.”

the venomous words wrote themselves on the page, adding to the long list of words that described all the regret, the jealousy, the anger that was boiling in him. 

“i don’t want to hear about him,

and these songs you continue to write.

i was with you when you wrote that line,

it was me that you had on your mind.”

.

harry woke up to the sound of his doorbell, his mouth dry and his eyes puffy, he didn’t even realise he fell asleep. shaking himself awake, he looked around the room before hearing the doorbell once again.

he grunted in response, and got up to see who could be looking for him at— well, he didn’t even know what time it was. was it morning already?

“hey, sleepyhead! god, i wore you out last night, huh?” she laughed, while making her way in. “oh my, the kitchen is a mess! do you need help?” 

harry was a bit dumbfounded, still half asleep. “wh-what are you doing here?” he cleared his throat. “did we have plans or-”

“oh no! no, i just came by to pick up my coat. i realised yesterday once i was home but didn’t want to come back and wake you up, so i thought it would be better if i came by this morning. didn’t think i’d end up waking you up.” she laughed. “can i go get it?”

he nodded, “yeah, yeah, of course. i’ll make some coffee. want some?”

“as if i’d ever say no.” she smiled and walked away.

once she entered the bedroom, she understood that she literally dragged him out of bed to open the door: the bed was all messed up, and the state of his hair and face clearly showed that he hadn’t even brushed his teeth. 

she looked around a little, finally finding her coat and her scarf on the dresser, near the window. since she was in there, she decided to tidy up a little, open the windows, change the air. 

while she was making the bed, she saw something familiar coking out from under the pillow. could it really be…? yes, it was: the untouchable journal.

she was shocked: never once in her life did she got so close to that book without harry tearing it away from her sight before she could even get a closer glimpse. she didn’t want to invade his privacy, she just wanted to look at the outside of it: she saw that there were little scribbles on the cover, made with a black pen, words, stars, doodles. it’s all so harry, she thought. 

but then, one thing caught her attention: they were photo-booth pictures, depicting two youngsters, smiling and making silly faces at the camera. harry had his hair a bit longer, she would call him “prince harry” at that stage: he was making a kissy face to the camera, and she was beside him, smiling deeply and looking at him with nothing but pure love; this was taken when she hadn’t met noah yet, and there was no one else on her mind. she remembers harry dragging her into the booth. they were going around shopping, looking for a new shirt for harry and a new outfit for her to wear at their graduation, when harry caught sight of the machine. he stopped in his tracks and grabbed her wrist, making a million of butterflies bat their wings in her stomach. 

“we always take a million pictures but never print them! we always say we will but we never get around to do that, so now i have the perfect solution.”

and when could she ever say no to him?

she smiled looking at the picture at the top, reminiscing those days. she decided to open the journal, just to see the other pictures under the top one: one with harry sticking his tongue out, another one with her making bunny ears behind his head, and the last one was her favourite, of course. harry grabbed her chin and planted a wet kiss on her cheek, making her turn a bright red. she remembers how flustered she was by that touch, and how she felt like she was walking on air for the rest of the day.

her cheeks warmed at the memory, smiling at the silliness of teenage feelings, but she cherished the memory of them the most. 

she couldn’t believe harry kept it all those years, she thought he would’ve lost it by then, with the movings and everything. 

while she was going to close the book, her eyes dropped to the words scribbled on those pages.

at the top of the page, written in uppercase, three letters, underlined: him. 

she knew it was wrong, she knew it was a violation of his privacy and that he would have any right to hate her, but her curiosity got the best of her and she ended up starting reading the rest of the words, of what she soon realised was a poem, or a song.

“no fucking way.” she smiled. “that’s so cool.”

she read the first four lines, frowning at the somber tone of the lyrics. what was he apologising for? 

she kept reading and reading, her heart sinking more and more into her chest, the realisation of what was going on hitting her like a truck. no, it couldn’t be. it couldn’t.

“that nice dress in my wildest dreams, lipstick stains you left still on my sheets.” she read out loud. “no, no, what-” but she went on, she couldn’t stop now. 

“when i hear ‘amazing eyes’, it breaks my heart evеry time?” her breath was shallow, her eyes misty. “what the fuck is-”

“hey darling, are you okay? you’ve been in here a whi-” harry’s voice died in his throat at the sight of his best friend white as if she had seen a ghost, holding his most precious possession, the air abandoning his lungs. shit.

she gulped, and didn’t tear her eyes away from the page, her voice low. “harry, what- what is this?” her hands were shaking.

harry was speechless, mind blank, not a thought going in his brain. he didn’t know what to say or do, aside being slightly defensive. “what are you doing reading my book?” he uttered, voice raspy.

“i didn’t mean to,” she murmured, still not looking at him. “i just picked it up to put it on your nightstand, but i saw the pictures of us inside and opened it, to get a better look at the picture and that was supposed to be it.” she inhaled deeply, calming herself. “before i found what you wrote.” and then, she finally looked up at him. her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks red. he didn’t like the sight of it. and he didn’t like what came after. “please, tell me the truth.” she pleaded. “is this about me? about me and.. and my relationship?” 

“what? no, it’s not-” he tried lying, pathetically, making her shake her head and read straight from his journal.

“i was with you when you wrote that line, it was me that you had in your mind?” she read almost whispering. “‘that line’- oh my fucking god, my wedding vows? you wrote this stuff last night.” she looked at him with a look he had never seen before, not towards him at least: pure disappointment, shock, disbelief. her voice was barely a whisper, as if all the air had been sucked out the room. “harry, i’m getting married in a fucking month. you’re my fucking best man, what the fuck-” she raised her head toward the ceiling, her hands covering her eyes. 

harry murmured lowly. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i can’t even-”

“since when?”

harry hoped he didn’t understand what she meant. “what?” 

“since when have you been writing this. since when have you been having feelings for me.” she said, her voice raising slightly.

“i-i don’t think it matters right now, honest-”

“oh, but it does.” she smiled, a sarcastic smile, tears falling silently down her cheeks. “it does matter, because it will make me understand what kind of feelings we’re talking about. tell me.”

harry stayed quiet, not daring opening up his mouth, because he knew what she would be thinking if he told her that he fell for her only after she got with noah. and that the passive aggressive decision to move to another country without telling her was all dictated by his jealousy. he knew she would hate him as soon as he told her that, as soon as she realised he was just a boy, a kid that would get jealous if anyone was to touch his toys. 

he felt ashamed, so ashamed of those being the circumstances in which he found out about his feelings, but they were so far from that now: he loved her, like a man would love another person, not like a teenage boy does.

apparently, he didn’t need to reply, because she already knew the answer. she scoffed, drying her tears. “oh, so it was after i met noah, then. let me guess, around the time you were ready to flee the country without telling me?” she asked bitterly. 

harry didn’t know what to say, aside from apologising, again and again, head hanging low. “i’m sorry.”

“you knew.” she pointed her finger towards him. “you knew i loved you, you did and you always played with my feelings. “‘do you know what’s like to fall in love from the outside’? are you fucking serious? do i know? i was in love with you for years and i always pretended you didn’t know, but i know you did, anyone could see it. and you never did something to let me know if you wanted more or if you didn’t want me that way, you’d always want me to stay in between, huh?” her smile was chilling. harry had never seen her like this, and those words were like knives going straight through his heart. he knew the truth was hard to face, but this was something else. he thought that dying would hurt less. “i can’t fucking believe this, it’s too much, i- i have to leave.”

harry shook his head vigorously, placing himself in front of the door. “no, please, don’t leave.” 

she stopped in front of him, shaking her head no. “let me leave. i don’t have anything to say to you.”

“but i do-”

“i don’t care, harry. i don’t fucking care about what you have to say now, because now it’s too late! you had years, years to tell me, and you didn’t even have the balls to say something to me, i had to find out you wrote a fucking song about me and noah three weeks before my wedding day.” she looked up at him, brows furrowed. “don’t you see how everything is messed up now? do you really not realise it?” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before pronouncing the last sentence harry would hear from her. “i really don’t care about what you have to say now. move out of the way.”

he did. the sound of the door slamming shut was almost as loud as his heart shattering in a million pieces. 

he collapsed on his knees, head hanging low, guttural sobs ripping out of his chest. 

on the other side of the door, she was in the same state, sat in her car, hitting the steering wheel, wishing she could slap Fate in its face, for this sad joke it made. how was this fair? how could they recover from this? most importantly, would they be able to recover from this? 

harry couldn’t remember a time he felt so desperate, so angry, so sad, so all over the place. all the plates that were out on the table were now smashed on the ground, angry tears leaving their trail on his face, his knuckles bruised from the punch he gave the wall. 

“fuck!” he screamed, after the hit. the tears of pain mixed with the ones of sadness, the ones that were testament of the fact that he knew it was all over. all the friendship, all the love was gone. there was nothing to rebuild, there was nothing he could do. 

it was over. there was no coming back from this.

—

4 days before the day.

her sister’s phone ringed with a new message.

“Hi, it’s Harry. I’m sorry if this is last minute, but I cannot come to the wedding. Hope everything is going well.”

her sister looked at the bride to be, doing her last dress check: she looked amazing. she was so happy, so smiley, glowing: harry being there would’ve ruined it, she knows that. but still, she couldn’t believe her sister wasn’t marrying that curly headed boy she was so smitten of. she always thought they’d end up together, someday. especially after she knew he was into her as much as she was.

“everything okay?” the bride asked her sister. “did one of the caterers say something is wrong?” she nodded towards her phone.

she shook her head. “no, no. everything’s fine. you look beautiful.” she smiled. “noah is a lucky man.”

—

the wedding day.

the church was packed with people: friends, family, coworkers, everyone who was ready to celebrate the new life of the happy couple. everything looked so festive, flowers all around: she chose sunflowers, like he knew she would’ve. the day was bright, as if the sky itself wanted to be at its best for her, for her big day, because nature knew she deserved nothing else. 

the last guests hurried themselves in and took their seats, everyone buzzing about seeing the bride walk in. noah was up at the end of the altar, his brother putting his hands on his shoulder and smiling at him, trying to come up with a joke to make him less anxious. noah laughed a bit, still very much anxious, but also happy: today was the start of their new life together, him and the girl of his dreams. this was the best day of his life, and he wished it would never end. 

she could see the church from the car window, and squeezed her sister’s hand as a reaction: the day was here. it was a long time coming, but she couldn’t be happier. 

well, maybe she could, but she won’t think about that today. not today, not ever. today was the beginning of a new life, full of love and safety. 

her sister turned around and smiled at her, squeezing her hand back three times. once they were parked, the maid of honour got out of the car, and noah’s heart jumped in his throat. it was really happening.

the june sun shimmered down her gown, making her look ethereal. an angel walked into the church and was then walking down the aisle, heading towards her future, with the man she loved more than anyone in the world.

and the man who was too late stood at the end of the church, hidden from her. 

he couldn’t be away, he couldn’t bring himself to miss out on her big day, no matter how painful it may be for him. so he stood at the far end, hidden from everyone. 

when she stepped foot in the church, his breath hitched. he had never seen anyone that beautiful before, she was glowing: even from where he was standing, harry could see the way her eyes were filled with emotional tears, the wavering smile displayed on her lips. she was breathtaking, and so utterly happy. 

it broke his heart.

he saw everything he had lost by being so arrogant, so blind, so oblivious, such an idiot for not realising sooner that she was the one, that she was the only person he wanted by his side. and now, he was watching every step she took away from him, towards the life he knew she deserved.

the life he knew he could’ve given her, if he didn’t mess up his chance. 

chances, even. he had so many of them, and he blew them away because he was scared.

now his life was gonna be filled with regrets, and that was his own fault, there was no one else.

while he watched the couple exchange their eternal promises to each other, he saw her sister glancing at him, giving him a timid smile, as if she knew he couldn’t be there for a second longer, that he couldn’t wait there to see them go out from that church and beginning their new journey. harry nodded back at her, and quietly made his way out of the church from the second entrance, the one he used to make his way in without being noticed.

he got in his car, and drove. he didn’t even know to where he was heading towards, but that didn’t matter. nothing did anymore.

“is he holding you better at night?

is it me running into your mind?

i still think about you all the time.”

—

soooo, this is it! i absolutely loved writing this story, i cried A LOT but it was very much worth it. some stories just don’t have the ending we wish they had, and that’s okay: some stories need a sad ending. i love you all! please let me know your thoughts under the post or in my asks! <3

taglist: @harrysonlylover @that-daydream-look @neverstaisfied

[bwabys-scenarios]

Reunited

Part 27

part 26

part 28

Warnings: mention of a groper on the loose, reader gets attacked, animal death, mentions of feitan being horny for reader and and masturabtion, feitan rummages through readers underwear drawer(PERVV)

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

(Name) woke up to the sound of several men talking in the living room. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a tshirt, having thrown off all her clothes before jumping into bed.

As she exited the room, she noticed a new person sat on her living room sofa, sipping from her favorite hello kitty coffee mug.

“Oh. Another one.”

The three men glanced up as (Name) entered the room, leaning her hip against the wall. Uvogin jumped up, rushing over and pulling the girl into a bone crushing hug.

(Name) coughed, patting his back. “Alright big guy, let me down before you actually crack my spine.”

The man let out a barking laugh, setting the girl down. “What ya making for breakfast, sweetheart?”

(Name) ignored him, peeking past the hulking figure to the man sitting on her sofa. “Hello there, I’m (Name).”

She moved past Uvogin and offered her hand, smiling politely. The man took her hand, giving her a similar smile back. “I’m Nobunaga. Sorry, we’ll be out of your hair soon.”

(Name) waved her hands dismissively. “Oh, you’re no trouble at all. I’ll go make breakfast, you boys just relax. I’m sure the journey has been tiring.”

Nobunaga watched her leave, the girl rustling around in the fridge while humming, the sway of her hips almost hypnotizing.

“Feitan… you’re a lucky guy.”

The short man huffed. “Shut up.”

——————

After eating a meal of biscuits, gravy, and fruit, the two left.

Nobunaga left Feitan a new coat, saying he’d have to pay Machi back for it later. (Name) clapped when he left the bathroom in his new coat, her face lightly flushed.

“Wow, you look nice Feitan! Handsome even!”

Feitan was glad his coat covered his face, because he could feel the heat rushing to his cheeks.

“… thanks.”

Over the next week, Feitan’s had gained control over his hands, able to lift his arms for a few seconds before dropping them in exhaustion.

He’d started exercising daily, going out for runs before breakfast. It was nice to return to (Name) smiling at him, placing a plate on the table for him. Something about having someone to come home to made him feel soft.

“Feitan!”

The man looked up from his manga to see (Name), wearing a knee length lilac summer dress and a strawhat.

“Wanna come to town with me?”

He set the novel down, standing. “Sure. Reason you ask?”

(Name) sighed. “There’s rumors that there’s a man going around groping lone women in the streets. I’d feel safer with you.”

He sneered at the information, but his heart thumped painfully against his chest at the fact he made her feel safe. If she knew who he really was, would she be more scared of the groper, or him?

(Name) and Feitan walked to town, him holding her hand. He excused it by saying it was to help her keep up with him, but he couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Too slow. Just hold on.”

He pulled her along, stopping every once in a while to give her a break, even if she didn’t need one.

Once they reached town, Feitan pulled her to his side, keeping his hand in hers. He used his nen to see if there was anyone in the area with malicious intent, and when he didn’t sense anything, he continued walking through town.

“Feitan, we should get you some of your own soap. I don’t wanna make you use a girls soap f-“

“I use yours.”

(Name) tilted her head. “Are you sure it’s okay? Didn’t Uvogin make fun of you?”

“Don’t care what he thinks.”

For some reason, he wanted to keep using her soap for as long as possible. It smelled good, like her.

(Name) hummed. “Alright. Let’s see if they have anything on sale in the grocery store!”

The two pursued the shelves of the grocery store, Feitan tossing in a few items he personally enjoyed. He’d never tell her his preferences, since he wasn’t a picky eater, so she was glad she brought him.

(Name) suddenly stopped, glancing at Feitan before turning to him shyly. “Um… I need to look down the next aisle. Could you stay here for a moment?”

Feitan raised an eyebrow. “What about groper?”

(Name) pursed her lips. “I’ll scream if something happens.”

The girl left her buggy with Feitan, the man waiting until she was far enough away to follow behind her.

She went down the small women’s clothing aisle, humming to herself. “Wonder if they still have them…”

Feitan watched as she paused in front of the women’s underwear, looking the shelf up and down. He was a little embarrassed to be looking at such a thing, but his curiosity wouldn’t let him leave.

She picked up a pack of multiple panties, them being pink and white themed, with a pair in the front having a strawberry pattern. She flipped the package over to look at the price, a sigh leaving her lips.

“Aww, still too much. I really wanted these too…”

She put the package down, sadly turning to return to Feitan. He was already long gone, leaning against the buggy nonchalantly. “Get what you need?”

She shook her head, her mood having soured a little. “No, it’s still to expensive. Maybe next month I can fit it into my budget.”

(Name) pushed the buggy forward, a pout on her lips. Feitan followed after her, glancing back at the aisle before stopping.

“Have to use bathroom. Be back.”

With that he strolled away, hands in his pockets. (Name) nodded and pulled out her grocery list, continuing her shopping.

(Name) and Feitan walked out of the grocery store, feitan carrying a majority of the bags. She’d fussed at him for straining himself, getting a glare in return.

“Can carry. Not weak, you know.”

She huffed. “I didn’t say you were weak. I just worry about you.”

His grip on the bags tightened. “Shouldn’t worry. I’m not a good man.”

(Name) hummed, peeking at him. “Not many people are truly good. But…”

She stood in front of him, leaning forward to wrap her arms around him.

“I don’t think you’re all that bad.”

He stiffened at her touch, the groceries dropping to the ground.

His hands trembled at her sides, not knowing what to do. As he struggled on what he should do next, (Name) pulled away and smiled.

“You’re good enough to me.”

She turned without another word, leaving him to rush to pick up the bags and follow behind her. He was glad she couldn’t see the tears prickling the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall. Feitan blinked them away quickly.

‘If she really knew what I’ve done, would she still smile at me like that?’

——————

Feitan watched as (Name) put up the groceries, humming to herself. Her sudden hug earlier still had his skin tingling, the tips of his ears red. Did she know the effect she had over him?

“Feitan, I’m gonna make some sandwiches, let’s eat on the porch, it’s so nice out!”

He could only nod, words not coming easy for him at the moment.

(Name) and Feitan sat together at the table, looking out over the river as they ate their sandwiches. Although Feitan was still struggling to lift his arms, he was able to eat by himself now. (Name) made sure to offer her assistance if she felt he needed it.

“So, Feitan, when’s your birthday?”

The sudden question caused the black haired man to choke on his sandwich, the girl smacking his back.

“Why… why you ask?”

Feitan glanced at her as he caught his breath, coughing lightly. She shrugged, pushing herself on the porch swing. “Just curious.”

“Don’t have one.”

(Name) paused her swinging, standing up suddenly. “You don’t have a birthday?”

“Don’t remember.”

(Name) blinked at him, her eyebrows furrowing. “Oh. That’s unfortunate…”

The two made idle chit chat as the sun went down, (Name) doing most of the talking. As the two conversed, she slipped in a few innocent sounding questions.

“Do you have a favorite flavor of cake?”

“Vanilla.”

“What would be something you’d like to receive as a gift?”

“Manga.”

(Name) nodded, typing something into her phone. Feitan watched her in mild amusement. She always asked him so many questions that he hadn’t even began to expect her true motives.

“I see. Alright, I think it’s time I retire to bed.”

“Sound like old woman.”

The woman in question let out a gasp, holding a hand over her heart. “Why I never! Hmph!”

She playfully tossed her hair as she walked inside, turning back around to stick out her tongue at him.

“Get dessert yourself then!”

He rolled his eyes, the ghost of a smile returning as he stood, carrying his plate to the kitchen.

—————

Feitan woke up in the middle of the night, glancing at the alarm clock (Name) had gifted him. It was pink with Sanrio stickers covering it, just the sight of it making him think of her.

Every item she owned seemed to be covered in pink and stickers, the man almost chuckling at the thought.

It was 2 am, and because he was tired, he lied back down. Whatever had woken him up shouldn’t be that important.

Another thump made his eyes shoot open, the feeling of an aura other than (Name)’s sending him into a panic.

Feitan took a moment to calm himself, grabbing his umbrella as quietly as possible and unsheathing the hidden sword.

He could hear the sound of a struggle, but it was quiet. So quiet he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t use nen.

Feitan approached the door, peering through the crack to see what was happening.

In the dark, he could make out a large, looking figure hunched over a smaller one. It had to be a man, by the shape of his silhouette.

“No one else lives here, eh? You lying to me girly?”

The man raised his hand and smacked the small figure under him, but the person didn’t cry out. Instead they just whispered back.

“Yes, I am alone. Please… just leave. Take what you want and go.”

That was (Name)’s voice. Feitan could feel his blood pressure rising. Did that man just strike (Name)? Was he pinning her to the ground like a fucking animal?

“Now why would I leave without getting what I came here for, little missy?”

The man grabbed her by her hair, making her cover her mouth so her cry was deafened.

“You must’ve heard of me on the news. They call me a groper, but they ain’t entirely right.”

The sound of a box cutter clicking open made Feitan stiffen, his eyes on the man.

“I collect little ladies like you as trophies. Specifically…”

He raised his arm, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

“THEIR HEA-“

Before the man could bring the blade down to stab into her throat, Feitan rushed out, easily severing the man’s arm from his body.

In that moment, (Name) felt true fear. The bloodlust surrounding Feitans body came off in waves so thick, even a non-nen user like (Name) could feel it. The man cried out in agony, holding the stump where his arm had once been.

“You filth.”

Feitan kicked the man in the stomach, sending him flying against the house and crashing through the front door.

Feitan passed (Name) not even sparing her s glance as he left the house. Slammed the door shut behind him as he advanced on the man.

“P-please! Don’t kill me! I-“

Feitan crouched down in front of the sniveling man, giving him a sinister smile.

“Shh, shh, shh. Not kill you. Not yet. Don’t deserve to die so quick.” he cooed, his tone sickly sweet.

Feitan took his sweet time dragging the man out to the river, grateful that (Name) lived out in the country where no one would be there to hear the man’s screams.

——————

(Name) sat motionless on the floor, holding her cheek as she waited for Feitan to return. Even as she waited, a small part of her was scared.

She’d never felt such an intense lust for blood come off of someone, the look on Feitan’s face when his foot connected with the man’s belly causing her to shiver.

Nearly an hour passed before Feitan returned, his coat covered in blood and viscera. He dropped his umbrella onto the floor, approaching (Name) with a stern frown on his lips.

(Name) watched, eyes darting from his face, to all the blood, to his hands that reached out to cup her hurt cheek.

“Why?”

It took (Name) a minute to process his words, blinking up at him stupidly.

“Why… what?”

He scowled, grabbing her face with both hands.

“Why lie? You tell him you live alone. Should have yelled for help!”

He stared down at her, his eyes wondering down her body. She seemed mostly unharmed… besides a cut on her arm. He let go of her face, his hand pulling her arm closer to take a look.

It was a defensive wound, she’d probably been grabbed from behind and thrown her arm up to protect her face from being slashed. From the look of the living room, she’d struggled quite a bit. He didn’t know how he hadn’t woken up sooner.

“You’re hurt.”

His frown deepened. “Why? Answer me.”

(Name) bit her lip, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. “I… I didn’t want him to hurt you too.”

Feitan’s eyes widened, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at her. Had she really been so quiet as to not alert him?

“…”

Feitan froze as (Name) started to full on sob, her arms wrapping around him tightly. This hug was different than before. It was needy, comfort seeking, her tears mixing together with the man’s blood as she sobbed into his chest.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry you had to save me. I hate it. I didn’t want to bother you, but I’m so happy you came for me. I was so scared, Feitan.”

He reached a hesitant hand up to smooth out her hair, trembling slightly. “Shh. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Feitan’s voice was soft this time, almost sweet.

(Name) sniffled, only whining when he picked her up into his arms. Her protests died in her throat, sobs replacing them.

He didn’t seem to mind the snot and tears staining his shoulder, setting the girl down on the bathtub’s edge as he turned the knob.

He pulled off his coat, exposing his bare chest. (Name) was too busy crying to care, her eyes becoming puffy and red.

Feitan dropped his coat into the hamper, moving forward and grabbing the hem of her shirt.

(Name) stopped crying then, her face heating up. “Feitan, what are you-“

He shushed her, pulling off her shirt and tossing it into the hamper with his coat. “Got blood on it. Need to wash.”

He tried his best to keep his eyes away from her form, but he couldn’t help but take a peek at her shirtless chest, the sight of her black bra stirring something inside him.

He calmed that side of himself. He couldn’t get horny right now, she needed him.

“Bathe yourself, I get your clothes.”

He left the bathroom, walking to (Name)‘s room.

Feitan glanced down at the package he’d stolen from the grocery store earlier. It was the pack of panties she’d been looking at, the strawberry pair front and center.

Too embarrassed to look in her underwear drawer, the man ripped the package open, pulling out the strawberry pair. He grabbed a tshirt dress and walked back to the bathroom.

The shower curtain was drawn, allowing him to walk in and place the clothes on the counter. “Clothes.”

He walked back out, going to the kitchen sink to splash some water in his face.

What had come over him?

Feitan was no novice to torture, but the things he did to that man in such a short time period surprised even him. The satisfaction of ending the man’s wretched life was astounding, even to a sadist like him.

“Feitan? I’m done.”

He stood up, walking to the bathroom door and opening it.

(Name) sat on the toilet seat, the lid down. Her eyes looked to the ground in embarrassment, her cheeks red. Feitan crouched down in front of her to meet her eyes, tilting his head.

“Why you embarrassed?”

(Name) leaned back, crossing her hands over her chest. “I’m not. I’m just… confused on how you got me the panties I’ve been wanting for a while.”

‘And why,’ she thought, keeping that to herself.

“Stole them. You wanted them, right?”

She could only nod, the man giving her a sly smile.

“I’m a thief. Take what I want.”

He expected her to scold him, maybe even get angry, but neither of those things happened. She just smiled, a giggle leaving her lips.

“Ah, I see.”

She accepted him without another thought, the man having to stand up and grab the medkit to keep himself from being seen blushing.

“Give me your arm.”

She held her arm out as he cleaned the wound, wrapping it in bandages. Feitan turned it over to inspect his work, the short man dropping her arm once he deemed it good enough.

“Go to bed. I’ll take shower.”

(Name) paused, looking down again.

“Feitan?”

He glanced at her. “What?”

“Can… can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Feitan felt his heart race, backing up slightly. “… why?”

“I… I’d just feel safer if you watched over me.”

He sighed, offering his hand. “Come on. I’ll take shower after you sleep.”

He said lead her to her bedroom, watching as she climbed into bed. Feitan sat down on the edge of her bed, waiting for her get comfortable.

“Thank you. You’re real sweet you know?”

Feitan scoffed, flicking her forehead. “Sleep.”

She giggled softly before finally leaning against her pillow and closing her eyes.

It only took her five minutes to drift into sleep, a peaceful look on her face.

He watched over her for a little longer, brushing the hair away from her eyes with a gentle touch.

“Sweet dreams.”

Feitan left her side, closing her door behind him. He felt strange, the knowledge that she trusted him enough to watch over her causing his heart to race.

As he showered, he thought back to her words. She didn’t want him to get hurt, putting his safety over hers so easily.

The girl he had been so unkind to was willing to risk her life for him, without any hesitation.

He had people help and even save him in the past, but he didn’t know if anyone had ever put his life above theirs, besides Chrollo.

‘I… I don’t want her to get hurt. She’s…’

He pushed the thought away from his head, mixing her shampoo into his hair.

But as he exited the shower, he knew what he wanted.

‘I want to protect her.’

——————

Feitan was beginning to realize why she had been acting so shy last night.

(Name) stood in the kitchen, making breakfast. She was still wearing the clothes he’d gathered for her the night before, his eyes glued to her.

He hadn’t grabbed her a bra.

Without a bra, her nipples pressed against the fabric of her shirt, the girl seemingly unaware. Feitan tried to tear his eyes away, feeling his pants tighten, much to his annoyance.

He grumbled, shuffling out of the living room and into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Feitan looked down, groaning. He never had a reaction like this to seeing multiple women naked, so why was he getting hard just seeing her nipples poke through her shirt?

‘Gotta take care of this…’

——————

(Name) placed two warm waffles on a plate, sitting it on the table where Feitan usually sat. She glanced at the bathroom door, humming as she grabbed her own plate.

‘Hmm, maybe he has a tummy ache?’

She plopped down into her chair and began eating her waffles and eggs, popping a fresh strawberry into her mouth.

Feitan left the bathroom five minutes later, the lightest shade of pink dusted across his cheeks. (Name) waved, pointing to his plate. “I made breakfast, waffles sound good?”

He didn’t respond, sitting down and eating his food quietly. Feitan didn’t make eye contact as he finished his meal, saying he was leaving for a jog when he was done.

“Oh…”

(Name) fidgeted, setting fork down and sighing.

“What?”

Feitan noticed a change in her aura, a frown on his lips.

“I… it’s nothing. Go ahead.”

She waved him off dismissively, taking her plate to the sink to wash it off. “Just… don’t be gone for too long.”

He thought about staying. (Name) was probably still scared from last night. Feitan couldn’t stay, though. He was still flustered, and a bit ashamed at what had happened in the bathroom. A jog would help clear his mind.

“Won’t take long.”

Feitan left without another word, pulling his hoodie over his head.

(Name) busied herself with cleaning up the messy living room, mopping up blood and fixing the furniture that had been flipped over during her struggle.

—————

Feitan was moving a lot better, having run several miles in only a few minutes. He was deep in the forest (Name) had taken him to, only stopping when he came across a dump site.

Someone had been leaving trash and carcasses there, the bodies of dead animals and mounds of waste overpowering the lingering scent of wisteria flowers.

Honestly, it reminded him of home.

Feitan hummed as he passed it by, a small noise causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“meow”

Feitan glanced to his left, seeing the body of a cat lying inside a sideways cardboard box. Nestled against the cat were a few kittens, most of them dead.

It seemed that the mother cat had given birth and died shortly after. Most of the kittens must have been born stillborn, never able to take their first breath.

But there was a single kitten crying out, the remnants of milk staining it’s mouth.

‘Hmm. Was able to find its mothers breast and eat.’

He picked up the baby by its scruff, examining its condition.

It was a brown tabby, with a fat little belly. The kitten meowed out, it’s body cold. The man scoffed, about to drop the kitten back into the box when (Name)’s face flashed in his mind.

What if one day, she found this dump site? What if she saw the corpses of these kittens and blamed herself for not noticing sooner? She was a sweet girl, having shown Feitan pictures of her childhood cat several times.

Feitan placed the cat in his hoodie, letting it curl up against his chest to get warm. The man dug a grave and placed the mother with her kittens in it, burying them.

From the collar on the mothers neck, he knew she had been dumped there. They were way too far out in the forest for a cat with an owner to have wondered. Feitan was a cold man, but even he felt a bit disgusted. Had they abandoned the cat because she was pregnant?

He didn’t want to think about it. Feitan made his way back to (Name)’s home, wondering if she’d be happy with his ‘gift’.

——————

“Feitan, you’re back!”

(Name) jumped up from her chair, running over to give him a hug, but he pushed her back gently.

The girl pouted, about to complain, but Feitan was quick to point to his chest.

“Watch.”

He pulled the collar of his hoodie down, exposing the kitten to her. (Name) gasped, grabbing his collar and peering down his hoodie with a squeal. He tried not to react to her closeness.

“Oh my god, Feitan how did you get this kitten?”

“Found it on side of road.” He lied, pulling it out and placing it in her hands. “You like cats?”

“I love cats!”

She cooed at the small thing, pulling it close to her. “Poor thing, must of been abandoned. We have a real bad problem with people dumping their pets on the side of the road here.”

‘No kidding.’ Feitan thought, watching her with a soft look. She kissed the top of the kitten’s head, scurrying to her room to grab a plastic bin. Feitan followed, watching as she placed a heating pad at the bottom and layered blankets on top, making sure that the heat was just enough to keep the kitten warm and not burn it.

“I’m so glad I kept that kitten formula from the last time.” She said absentmindedly, placing the kitten in its new home.

“Last time? You’ve done this before?”

(Name) nodded, a small frown pulling at her lips. “When I lived with my parents, our neighbor refused to get their cat fixed, so she had kittens when she was still a kitten herself. Most of the babies died, but I was able to save two.”

She walked past him, rummaging through her kitchen cabinets until she found what she needed. “Ah, here.”

She placed the kitten formula on the table, grabbing a tiny bottle and mixing up the formula. “It was tough waking up every few hours to feed them, but the happy faces of the people that adopted them made up for it.”

Feitan couldn’t help but admire her. She was so different than him, giving so much love to whatever came across her path. He leaned against the wall as she worked.

——————

After feeding the kitten, (Name) placed it back and stood up, enveloping Feitan in a hug.

“I missed you!”

His arms shot out, hovering over her back. She had become so much more affectionate since last night, and Feitan didn’t want to admit how much he liked it.

“Wasn’t gone long…” he grumbled, taking in her scent. Her hands clutched the fabric of his hoodie. Her chin rested on his shoulder.

“Long enough.”

(Name) had become clingy, quickly. He knew it was because of her nerves after the incident from last night, but he still enjoyed her touch.

As the day wore on, she stayed by his side, only leaving to use the bathroom and feed the kitten. He’d pushed her away a few times, still being sensitive to touch, but mostly allowed her to hug him and hold his hand. She’d been through a traumatizing experience, it was only fair he was a little lenient, right?

He sat at the kitchen table, only halfway paying attention to the manga in his hands. (Name) was wearing an oversized tshirt and shorts. To an outsider, it looked like she wasn’t wearing anything BUT her tshirt. But when she bent to check on the bread in the over, white shorts with a black cartoon cat on the butt could be seen.

She was awfully cute, being unaware of his less than pure gaze. He wondered if she was still wearing those strawberry panties he’d picked out, quickly shaking the thought from his head. He didn’t want to get too excited again.

“Feitan… feitannnn!”

Feitan snapped back to reality, pushing (Name)’s face back. She’d been a bit too close for comfort, her breath tickling his cheek.

“What is it?”

She mumbled something against his hand, the man pulling his arm back to hear what she had said.

“It’s going to be raining a lot next week, so Sunday I’m going to buy some supplies from town in case the power goes out. Don’t want the kitten getting cold!”

She leaned forward again, a cute smile on her face. It was like she couldn’t keep a smile off her lips when she was around him, the thought making the tips of his ears turn pink.

“You’ll hold me if I get scared of the storm, right?”

It took him a moment to process that question, the man stuttering out a reply.

“H-hold? What, you a kid? Tch…”

He pushed her away again, but didn’t say no. She didn’t push any further, only giggling at his reaction. Underneath his resting bitch face, Feitan was shy around girls.

What (Name) didn’t know was that he wasn’t shy around most women, only her.

The two ate dinner together, (Name) informing Feitan about the newest episode of an anime she’d been watching. “Oh Feitan, you can watch with me if you like! I download the episodes on my phone while I’m in town.”

He didn’t reply, finishing his food as she continued to ramble on. He glanced at the TV, his eyes shooting open wide.

There was an image of the Phantom Troupe on screen. The sound was off, Feitan sprinting to the remote and turning it off as quickly as possible.

(Name) glanced up from her plate. “Hmm?”

He shrugged. “Gross thing on news. Didn’t want to ruin your dinner.”

“Oh, how sweet!”

She ruffled his hair, the man swatting her hand away with a huff.

——————

That Sunday, Feitan found himself taking care of the small kitten. (Name) had to work at the farmers market, so she wouldn’t be able to focus on the kitten.

Feitan grumpily offered his help in exchange for (Name) making him his favorite dessert, a lemon meringue pie.

“Hmm, that’s not easy, but I’ll make it. Just for you~” she cooed, booping his nose. He scowled at her.

“So touchy.”

“You’ve got such soft skin, I can’t help it!”

She squished his cheeks, the man swatting her hands away and letting out an embarrassed groan. “Gonna get bit one day.”

“You’ve already bitten me!”

Feitan winced. He hated remembering the pain he’d caused her, his eyes wondering from her face to her arms. The wounds he caused had already healed, but the knowledge that his hands had hurt her filled him with dread.

Feitan sat on (Name)’s bed, having just fed the kitten again. “How much does it need to eat? Ugh…”

He set on her nightstand.

“Hmm… she wouldn’t mind if I look around… got me working, peeking would be okay.”

Feitan had been very curious about what lied in her closet and drawers, deciding to rifle through her closet first.

At first he didn’t find anything interesting, pushing through items of clothing with a bored look.

That was until he found a maid costume. He blinked at the dress, seeing it was incredibly short. Why did she own something like that?

He found himself continuing his search, becoming more and more confused.

There was a playboy bunny suit, paired with bunny ears. Feitan immediately pictured her in it, having to push the image out of his head before he popped a boner.

He left the closet and decided to search through drawers.

He ignored the underwear drawer, telling himself he’d look there last.

Feitan opened her shirt drawer, picking up a few articles of clothing and chuckling. Almost every shirt was a pastel color, anime characters or some kind of cartoon character decorating them.

He looked through numerous skirts and shorts, blinking at a few pairs. Would that pair of shorts even cover anything?

He glanced back up at her underwear drawer, biting the inside of his cheek. Looking in a woman’s underwear drawer was a huge invasion of privacy, but he’d already been rummaging through her room, was it really that different?

He pulled the drawer open, his eyes widening.

(Name) had a wide arrange of taste.

There were plain cotton panties, lacy panties, even a few matching sets of lingerie. Did she really wear these everyday? Around him?

Feitan noticed something tucked under in the corner, grab in the object quickly.

“Oh, naughty girl.”

The object was an erotic novel, the cover having full on nudity. He read the back cover, eyes widening at the description.

“So this is what she likes…”

He pocketed the book, partly because he wanted to read it later, partly because he wanted to see the look on her face when she found out it was missing.

Maybe he’d even take some notes.

[kennahjune]

PART 4 of S3 STEDDIE

Hop on board cause I’m making no promises of this being the last part

Tag list: @viridianphtalo @thisisallicouldthinkof @thatonebirthstone @swiftielouie55 @luthienstormblessed @spilled-jar @just-a-tiny-void @marklee-blackmore @stevesbipanic

…

True to his word, Eddie showed up to the shop around 10 with the Jeff and Gareth. And someone Steve didn’t quite know.

Steve chuckled as he watched the kids crowd him, all of them talking a mile a minute. Steve had informed them happily about Eddie’s DND background the previous night, and Lucas, Mike and Will were quick to jump on board.

El came to stand next to him behind the counter, quickly taking the open stool left behind there for employees.

“Too loud for you?”

El nodded.

“Yeah.” Steve chuckled. “They get like that. It’s pretty sweet, actually.”

El nodded.

Steve ruffled her hair and stepped out of the store to gather the shitheads.

“Hey, hey!” Steve clapped his hands. “Inside all of you! Let the guys in before you hound them!”

Will and Lucas both scurried inside, eager to hear more about DND and the weird shit that goes down in the trailer park. Steve huffed and looked pointedly at Max and Mike, who were loitering.

“You both to. Inside.”

They huffed and rolled their eyes, but made no arguments the second time around.

The guys walked in to, Steve moving out of their way as they all waved friendly hellos.

Eddie stayed by the door with Steve, both basking in silence and the chatter from inside the store.

Steve turned to Eddie. “Hey, uh, I get off of here at 2, and I have to drop the kids off, but um— I was wondering if you wanted to maybe come by afterwards?” Steve refused to look Eddie in the eye and anywhere in the face for that matter. His gaze remained on the floor of Scoops Ahoy while he picked at his bottom lip. He really needed some new chapstick.

Eddie bumped shoulders with him and Steve rocked with the hit. “Totally, Stevie. Why don’t you come by to mine, huh? I can even pick you up at 3?”

Steve did look at him this time, his eyes shining and picking up the nervous grin and bashful blush. Steve grinned merrily and held back a squeal and a clap. “Sure! Of course— totally, that works, uh— 3 then?”

“You got it sweetheart. I’ll see you at the 3.”

And with that, Eddie called the guys over and they all left. Steve finally let out that squeal and clap.

“Steve are you going on a date with Eddie!?”

Oh man.

…

“Eddie are you going on a date with Steve!?”

Oh man.

“No, Gare-bear. We’re just hanging out at the trailer later.” Eddie denied and denied. He snatched Gareth’s paper bowl of ice cream and took a bite. Gareth huffed and crossed his arms, mumbling about him owing 3 dollars.

“‘Not a date’ he says, and yet Harrington had him twirling his hair and smiling like a middle school girl,” Jeff taunted, giving Gareth his own ice cream to make up for his new lack.

Gareth took the ice cream with a grin and thanks.

“Shut it. I was not twirling my hair.” He so was. Still is, actually.

Brian scoffed. “Dude, get over yourself. You’re clearly into him— and from the looks of it he’s into you! What’s so wrong with saying that?”

Eddie frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Cause I kind of wanted him to be an asshole.”

Jeff raised and eyebrow, stealing a bite of Brian’s ice cream.

“Like—“ Eddie waved a hand in the air. “—he was an asshole in high school, but also, not really? He never actually did anything to anyone. Barely even laughed. He was just bitchy, now that I look back on it. And I guess there was some part of me that wanted him to be an asshole so that I didn’t seem like a dick for hating him.”

“But you don’t hate him.” Gareth pointed out with his ice cream spoon.

Eddie scoffed and flailed his arms to turn around. “Yeah well— I don’t know!”

“You literally just asked him on a date?” criticized Brian.

“It’s not a date! We’re literally just hanging out!” Eddie continued walking backwards out of the mall.

“Yeah,” Jeff rolled his eyes. “You guys are ‘hanging out’ but he’s coming to your place at 3 and just the mere idea of it has you not only red in the face but so flustered you trip.”

“What?” Eddie asked incredulously. “I didn’t tri—“

He tripped over a curb in the sidewalk.

Gareth spit out his ice cream laughing at him. At least it didn’t get on Eddie this time.

Whatever.

It wasn’t a date.

…

It wasn’t a date.

But Steve was getting ready for it like it was.

Max and Mike were on his bed. Neither really wanted to go home and decided to stick at Steve’s for a bit longer. Steve let them, but he called Jonathan over beforehand to keep an eye on them. It got him an eye roll from both of them but it was whatever.

Mike and Max were sifting through the shirts he’d pulled out from his closet.

“You don’t have anything.. I dunno, darker?” asked Max.

Mike scoffed. “Don’t even. Eddie’s clearly into the pastel shit Steve wears.”

“I don’t see why.”

“Yeah well not everyone wants to look like a walking traffic cone.”

Max threw a polo at his face.

“Do you have any of those sweaters you used to wear with Nancy?” Asked Mike.

“What about that light blue one Nancy got you for Christmas last year?” Asked Jonathan from the bedroom doorway. They all jumped at the sudden intrusion.

“Christ, Byers!” screamed Mike.

“Don’t ‘Byers’ me, Wheeler. I’ll take your crayons.”

Mike stuck his tongue out.

“I don’t have the sweater right now, it needs washed.” Steve answered. He’d gotten batter on it when he was baking with Joyce and El a while back.

Mike bypassed him and looked through his closet. Steve let him. He knew he’d be missing a couple of button ups later (they all stole each others clothes one way or another) but it was whatever.

Jonathan joined Max on the bed.

“What about these jeans?” Jonathan held up a pair of light wash blue jeans that Steve still fit from junior year. Well— “fit” was putting it lightly. They squeezed around his ass and thighs a lot more than they used to. But maybe that was what he needed tonight.

“Yeah, those work.”

“These to!” Steve barely caught the shirts— plural— that were thrown at him from Mike. The first was one of his many white tank tops. He threw it on without much thought and examined the second shirt. This one was one of his more rare shirts; a short sleeve, light brown, flannel button up.

“Put it on, doffus.” Mike waved his hand at him in a scarily similar way to Erica. Steve wondered briefly if Erica got it from Mike or if Mike got it from Erica.

Steve put the shirt on and buttoned only the bottom button. He tucked it in the jeans very loosely.

It was oddly perfect.

“Now go change! Maybe I can do your eyeliner!” Max shoved him away.

Steve scoffed. There was no way he was letting her do his eyeliner.

.

Steve let her do his eyeliner.

It was painful. Max poked him in the eye with the pen at least 3 times and he kept having to remind himself that he couldn’t rub at his eyes unless he wanted to ruin it and go looking like a raccoon.

It was a pretty subtle touch, actually. Max and Mike made sure to keep it light while Jonathan watched from his desk chair. Mike even let Max do his eyeliner. The eyeliner brought just enough attention to his eyes but also distracted from his ungodly eye bags. He needed to buy some more concealer soon. Max offered hers but they aren’t the same shade.

Jonathan even convinced him to put in his diamond studs. Which sent Max and Mike into a frenzy about his ears being pierced. He’d gotten them done as a baby because his mom wanted them done but his dad refused to let him wear earrings.

Mike whined about wanting his ears pierced for a while.

In the end, Steve was happy with his new look.

Max and Mike stared at him, examining.

“I love it.”

“It suits you, oddly enough.”

“Happy to please.” Steve gave a dorky bow. Max and Mike scoffed.

“You look amazing, Steve. Before you go I do want a picture though.” Jonathan held up his camera.

“A picture? What for?”

“You’re first date with a guy, duh!” Yelled Max. Mike snickered.

Steve flushed. But in the end he let Jonathan take the picture.

That was when the doorbell rang.

…

It wasn’t a date.

But of course Eddie was treating it like one.

Which is why he sat with Gareth, Brian and Jeff in his room, rifling through his drawers for something half-decent while they tried their bests to pick up the absolute wreck of a room.

“Dude I promise he’ll like you in anything you wear. Seriously.” Reassured Jeff.

“I know I know! But I want a shirt that’s at least clean!” Exclaimed Eddie over the racket of Metallica playing from his radio.

Gareth and Brian shared a look.

“Eddie. Park your ass.” Gareth demanded.

Eddie opened his mouth.

“Park your ass right the fuck now.” Gareth snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed. Eddie huffed and sat like a dog. Gareth was scary when he was mad.

“Now listen. You’re fine. You have like half an hour before you have to pick him up. All you really need is a shirt and a pair of jeans that don’t smell odd.” Gareth went to take Eddie place rifling through his dresser. “Boom.”

The jeans he threw at Eddie were black (like all his jeans) and had rips in the knees. The shirt was a simple, white, used-to-be-t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and the entire thing cropped to just above his bellybutton. Not to mention all the holes in it from getting caught in fences and just deciding to take scissors to it one day. The black Metallica symbol was well faded with time and love.

Eddie deemed it good enough and changed quickly.

“Now.” Gareth clapped his hands. “Put your hair up in a bun, get it off your neck. But not a high bun, just right behind your head. Hang on lemme—“

Eddie, Jeff and Brian let Gareth do his thing. Surprise surprise; Gareth had actually been on his fair share of dates. A lot more than the rest of them anyway. And whatever the hell he was doing seemed to be working so fuck it.

Putting his hair up showed off where Eddie had pierced his ears all the way up, and the multiple studs and hoops going through the holes. Honestly it was refreshing getting his hair off his ears— strands kept getting caught in his earrings.

Jeff grabbed Eddie’s jewelry box from his dresser and sat down with it on his bed. Eddie stood in front of him while he attached chains to his belt loops for him.

Brian helped him clip a couple of silver necklaces and chains on as well and Gareth convinced him to put in his earrings and piercing. And soon enough Eddie was a menace to metal detectors around the world.

And right on time to.

Eddie rushed to put on his extremely worn out converse before running out the door with the other guys.

Gareth was dropped off first, then Brian. Then it was just Jeff and Eddie in the van while he drove.

“You’re gonna do great, man.” Jeff reassured. Eddie sighed.

“I know. I know that— but it’s like. Seriously nerve racking. Like I’ve been on little to no dates in my life but hanging out with Steve Harrington? Jeez.”

“Why are you so nervous? Make a move tonight! Ask him out for real this time man. I’m like 100% sure he’ll say yes.”

“Yeah but asking out Steve is like asking out a single mother. You don’t only have to lover her but the kids as well.”

“Those twerps?”

“Those ‘twerps’ were the subject of several of our conversations yesterday because of how much Steve loves them. I haven’t even met all of them apparently!”

Jeff laughed just as Eddie pulled up to his house. “You do you man. All I’m saying is make a damn move. Cause if you don’t, I will.”

Jeff got out of the car cackling while Eddie yelled at him from the drivers seat.

…

Steve opened the door and nearly fell over in astonishment.

Holy shit?

“Holy shit?”

Eddie grinned down at him. “‘Holy shit’ what, Harrington?”

“I— you— um. Uh.”

“Jesus, this is pathetic, Steve!” Mike yelled from the couch.

Steve hushed him harshly over his shoulder. He turned back to Eddie so quickly his bangs hit him in the face. “Sorry! Sorry. Mike and Max insisted on staying over for a bit. Come inside for a moment? I still have to grab a few things.” he smiled nervously and apologetically.

Eddie smiled back and accepted the invite in.

Steve is proud to say he only panicked a little. The back of his neck was moist with nerves and his hands were starting to get cold but he hasn’t burst into tears yet so he’ll consider it a win.

And honestly— with how Eddie showed up looking?— that’s such a fucking win.

God Steve wanted to to bite him.

Eddie made himself comfortable in the living room with Max and Mike while Steve dragged Jonathan upstairs to his room.

He closed the door maybe a little too loud but it’s fine. It’s whatever. What’s not whatever is the current impending breakdown over everything finally settling in.

“Steve. Sit down.”

He sat on the floor.

“That works.”

Jonathan sat right next to him and gathered him in his arms. “You’re ok. You looks amazing. Those jeans do wonders for your ass. I’m sure he thinks you look fucking fantastic. You’ve got this.”

And for a while that was how it went. Jonathan whispering small reassurances until Steve felt himself-enough to finally go back out there.

“God he looks so /good/, Jonathan! I wanna fucking bite him!” Steve put his head in his hands.

Jonathan smirked. “Save that for at least the third date, Steve.”

Steve groaned.

There was an insistent knocking on his bedroom door.

“If Steve’s done freaking out I think you guys should go soon!” yelled Mike from the other side.

Steve quickly stood with an uttered curse. The moment he walked back into the living room Eddie’s eyes seemed to lock on him.

Steve gulped.

…

Eddie gulped.

‘Holy shit’ was right.

Steve looked… he doesn’t even know. Ethereal? Divine? Like a fucking meal?

God Eddie wanted him.

And— Jesus Christ— was that eyeliner?

Steve Harrington was going to be the death of him. “Eddie Munson, 1965-1985, killed by the prettiest boy to ever walk this fucking Earth.”

Jesus H. Christ.

Steve invited him in and Eddie accepted. A smooth feeling of proudness and self-confidence flowing through him at the stuttered responses from Steve. Guess the guys were right. Though he’d never admit that to them.

The moment Steve closed the door behind him he was bounding off with Jonathan upstairs. Eddie tried not to think too much into /that/.

“He’s nervous.”

Eddie looked at Max.

“Nervous?”

“Hella. We’re talking 3 breakdowns and a panic attack nervous.” Confirmed Mike. “Dustin’s gonna be so pissed he missed Steve’s first date with a guy.”

Max snickered at that.

Eddie sputtered. “It isn’t—“

“—a date. Well I call bullshit. If you like Steve you take him out and you make him feel good, you hear me?” Max threatened.

Eddie put his hands up in surrender. “Nothing but the best for Stevie.”

Mike eyed him. The kid was actually kind of scary.

“You hurt him and I blow your fucking brains out.”

Jesus H. Christ. Steve Harrington control your kids.

Eddie sat on the other side of the living room from them.

When Mike went to go gather Steve and Jonathan after an impending 10 minutes, Eddie sat in momentary silence with Max.

“Mike means good. He’s a jackass but he’s been through some of the most with Steve.”

Eddie looked her in the eyes. “I promise on my weed stash and swear on my mothers grave that if hurt him neither of you will get a chance to fulfill your threats before I dig my own grave.”

Max snorted at that. Just as Steve came back, to.

Eddie’s eyes locked on him immediately, greedily drinking in the beautiful curve of waist and those plush thighs squeezed nicely by his jeans.

Eddie stood and gave a two-finger salute to Jonathan and waved off the kids. He and Steve were stepping out in no time.

“So— hang on. Are we gonna take my car or your van?” Steve asked Eddie once they’d stepped off the porch.

“Uhhhh,” Eddie hesitated for a second. “My van? And I can drop you off afterward.”

Steve nodded. “Okay. Okay cool.”

“Cool.”

They got in the van.

Steve demanded control over the music, claiming to refuse to listen to “that bullshit” the entire way (it was only a 10 minute drive, tops), but Eddie let him have it. Although he complained immediately about the Wham! Steve had put in. Steve dismissed him jokingly and sang along quietly to Careless Whisper.

Eddie chuckled and watched him out of the corner of his eye. It was quite the scene; Steve Harrington in his van, singing to Wham! while tapping on his thighs.

Eddie focused on the road.

…

Eddie pulled up to the trailer at the tail end of Killer Queen by, well, Queen.

Steve forced him to stay in the car until the end. Eddie found it stupidly endearing.

When they did finally leave the car for the trailer, Eddie remembered Wayne being home. He waved at the old man sitting in the recliner. Steve followed his example and waved as well.

“Hello, sir.”

Wayne clicked his tongue. “Don’t use that ‘sir’ bullshit on me, boy. I ain’t your daddy.”

“Oh! Sorry, Mr. Munson.”

“No—“

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie smirked.

Steve looked confused between Eddie and Wayne, before apologizing once more to Wayne and hurrying to follow Eddie to his room.

His room.

Steve held back a squeak. He was going to Eddie’s room! Oh man. He might pass out. Is he gonna pass out? Gosh that’d be embarrassing.

Eddie sat on the bed and patted next to him. Steve sat as well, but kept to the edge of the bed.

“Sorry, totally forgot Wayne didn’t have work for another hour.” Eddie rubbed the back of his neck.

Steve shrugged. He didn’t mind, really.

“So? What does the amazing Hair do in his free time?” Eddie’s asked, leaning his head in his propped hands and smirking at Steve.

“The amazing Hair carts around like 7 kids in his free time.”

Eddie snorted something ugly and Steve laughed at the noise.

.

Talking to Steve was easy.

Eddie never thought he’d find this kind of relaxation outside of his Corroded Coffin guys yet here he was, lighting up with Steve Harrington of all people while they traded banter like old friends.

It was one hell of a time.

Eddie’s regretful to say that they seemingly spent a good hour talking about other people instead of theirselves.

Steve waxed poetry on his kids, even as he gave each one a good hearted insult right along with the praise.

“Dustin’s a menace. The tone that boy has! I mean— sure he’s smart and a good kid but Jesus Christ someone needs to knock him down a notch!”

Eddie snorted, a plume of smoke coming out of his nose with it.

“And Mike can be downright insufferable sometimes. Don’t get me started on when he gangs up with Max. They’re fucking brutal.”

Steve was laying on his back on Eddie’s bed, his legs bent at the knees and were squished between himself and the wall. Eddie was right beside him, so close Steve’s head was practically in his lap.

He wouldn’t mind Steve’s head in his lap.

Shit— he wouldn’t mind his head in Steve’s lap. Eddie’s head, cushioned on those divine thighs? Mark him down as eager and horny.

Anyway.

Wayne popped in some time later, sending them both a goodbye. Much to Steve’s cute confusion.

“Why’d he say bye to me to?” He looked up at Eddie with wide eyes.

Eddie gave into an impulsive urge and booped his nose. He snickered when Steve went cross eyed watching the movement. His nose wrinkled adorably.

Steve Harrington was a sweetheart when high.

“Cause you’re here, ain’t ya? It’d be rude to not say bye.” Eddie shrugged taking a drag and passing the blunt to Steve. Steve took it with gentle fingers.

They blew out at the same time accidentally and it sent Steve into a fit of giggles.

He was an absolute sweetheart and Eddie was determined to get every cute reaction he could out of him.

They smoked for a few minutes longer, the blunt finally reaching the end and Eddie putting it out. Steve had moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his left leg crossed under his right. He was chewing at his nails again, staring into space.

Eddie sat next to him, and when Steve didn’t give any sign of acknowledgement Eddie finally reached over and grabbed his hand. He forced Steve to stop chewing on his already ragged nails by interlacing their fingers and his rubbing his thumb over his knuckles.

Steve sighed and leaned into Eddie’s shoulder, eventually dropping his head onto said shoulder and digging his forehead in as if trying to bury himself.

Eddie would let him.

“I haven’t relaxed like this since sophomore year,” Steve informed quietly.

Eddie hummed. “I think that’s when you first started buying from me, right?”

Steve snickered. “Yeah. And then I made Tommy do it for me.”

“Why, did I scare you?” Eddie teased.

“Something like that,” was the mumbled response.

Eddie hummed. “Well I shouldn’t. I’d never hurt a fly. In fact— flies kind of scare me.”

Steve snorted and giggled into his shoulder.

“It’s true, ok? Don’t laugh jackass! Flies are creepy little fuckers.”

“No, no.” Steve laughed quietly, his hands gripping Eddie’s arm weakly. “You didn’t scare me, per se—“

“‘Per se?’” Eddie mocked.

“Shush! —per se,” Steve continued pointedly. Eddie laughed. “You just— intimidated me?”

“Are you asking me?”

“You’re kind of an ass, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.” Eddie snickered.

Steve rolled his eyes, but the grin on his face erased all doubts in Eddie’s mind.

“You’re a cool guy, you know that Steve?”

Steve looked up at Eddie, his eyes impossibly wide. It was cute, how his nose scrunched up and his eyebrows furrowed. How his pretty, pink lips parted with a sharp exhale. Eddie smiled.

“And you’re an oddball, Eddie.”

Eddie’s shoulders shook with the laugh that barreled out of him.

…

I’m so sorry this took so long to get out 😭

Writers block hit like a motherfucker after writing their outfits lmao. Lemme know if you wanna be tagged!! Part 5 should actually be the last part :)

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Okay I have just binged your Favours ettore works and 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 I love the way you write so much, it just— idek how to explain it, but it’s just so elegant and fluid, does that make sense????

Anyway, I have not been able to get it out of my mind no matter how much I try, but I keep wondering how ettore would react if he were ever to get jealous?? Bc I def see him as controlling/dominant still like how u were explaining in the first kiss Drabble and the fact he is jealous over the box ! It just sends my mind in a frenzy to think what would he do if he were actually jealous of someone!! If u don’t want to take this request, no worries, I just wanted to voice the idea!!

Again, I am so in love with ur works and appreciate them beyond belief, thanks for writing all these fantasies out for us 💕💕 I hope ur doing well and staying safe

Hello! Sorry for the long wait for this. I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: Language, violence, choking, smut. Word count: ~1500

Main series masterlist

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

The ship has been in sleep mode for less than an hour when she feels the weight of her bunk dip beside her and the lean hardness of Ettore’s body press against her back.

“Did anyone see you?” She whispers.

“No.” Comes his curt reply, his fingertips biting into the swell of her hip.

She exhales a shaky sigh, heat pooling between her legs as he grinds against the curve of her backside. Parting her thighs on instinct, as his hand snakes between them to drag her underwear to the side, she bites her lip to stifle the wanton moan that almost escapes her as Ettore pushes inside of her.

She clutches the pillow beside her head, her grip vice like at the pleasurable hurt of the initial stretch to accommodate his size. Once fully sheathed within her, he wraps a hand around her throat, pulling her flush to his chest as he sets a relentless pace, his hips snapping rapidly against her.

This is no gentle lovemaking, merely a means for both of them to get off, as per their agreed arrangement.

They remain in the same position for a few moments afterwards, both silently getting their breath back.

“Same time tomorrow, yeah?” He murmurs against the shell of her ear.

She nods. “I’m on daytime work duty with Monte this week, so yeah.”

He tenses up behind her, but with how swiftly he pulls out and leaves the cell, she is sure she must have imagined it. Closing her eyes, she allows sleep to take her, lulled by the satisfying ache between her thighs.

The next day she stands in the galley, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she sniffs the open packet of powder she’s about to dump into the vat of boiling water to prepare the crew’s afternoon meal.

“The food is definitely more edible when you don’t have to see how it’s prepared.” Monte says with a smirk.

She laughs. She likes Monte, he’s easy to talk to and far less intense than most of the others on board the ship. If he suspects anything is going on between her and Ettore, he hasn’t said anything, even after hearing Ettore call him a cockblock, and she is hugely appreciative of his silence.

“Not excited for…” She lifts the packet to read what’s been stamped on the silver foil. “...beef chilli?”

Monte scoffs, taking the package from her and upending it into the boiling water. Both of them watch as it fizzes and expands, looking completely unappetising.

“I’m gonna go sort things out in the scullery.” She tells him. “You okay to finish that off?”

He fires her a mock two fingered salute as she steps backwards. Her arms reach behind her head as she moves away, eager to fix her rapidly loosening ponytail.

“Fuck!” She mutters as she feels the elastic snap around her fingers.

“You good?” Monte calls to her from over his shoulder.

“Yeah, hair tie snapped is all.” She sighs, holding her hair away from her face.

He wipes his hands on his trouser legs, and turns to face her. “Here, let me.” He offers, beckoning her closer.

He takes the snapped elastic from her and she allows him to spin her around as his fingers work deftly to pull her hair back and knot the broken elastic around it. “That should hold until you can replace it.”

“Thanks.” She says with a smile.

She’s about to continue towards the back of the galley, where the scullery is located, when she hears the door crash against the wall with the force of which it’s been thrown open.

There is barely time for her to register the blur of movement as Ettore throws himself towards Monte, knocking him to the ground and punching him.

A sickening crack causes her to gasp and she crouches beside the pair as they scuffle, attempting to pull Ettore off of Monte, who has now managed to land a blow of his own to Ettore’s face.

“Get the fuck off him!” She cries out to Ettore, tugging desperately at his shoulder. 

He throws his elbow back, attempting to shake her off, and it connects with her jaw, sending her reeling backwards with a cry of pain.

It’s only then that Ettore stops, looking back at her, and for the briefest of moments she sees panic in his eyes. He is quick to climb to his feet and leave, while Monte remains on the floor holding his face.

She crawls towards him, her eyes wide with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Prick broke my nose.” He utters. “I need to go to the med bay.”

She winces as she watches Dibs reset Monte’s nose, which is in fact broken. Her heart constricts when Dibs inquires as to how this happened.

“A pan fell from a shelf in the galley.” He tells her. “Caught it with my face.”

Her jaw drops in disbelief. He’d lied. She cannot understand why Monte would do such a thing, but the relief she feels is immeasurable.

Dibs doesn’t seem like she quite believes Monte’s explanation, but doesn’t push any further, allowing them both to return to their work duty.

She seeks out Ettore after lunch, finding him skulking in the laundry room, a bright red split now decorates his lower lip.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” She hisses angrily.

Ettore grunts in response, slamming the door to a washer closed.

“Answer me!” She shouts in frustration after a few moments.

He rounds on her with such rapidity that she takes a fearful step back, until he is crowding her space. He reaches up a hand to trace his fingertips over the side of her face.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks softly. “I haven’t hit you since we started…you know…I know I’m not supposed to.”

She has to bite back a laugh at the absurdity of it, it’s like listening to a child explain why they ought to look both ways before crossing the street.

“You didn’t.” She tells him. “But you broke Monte’s nose. Why?”

Ettore pulls back with an offhand shrug. “He was touching you.”

She shakes her head in disbelief. “Are you for real?! We were on work duty together. My hair tie snapped!”

“You could’ve been put on work duty with Mink or Boyse.” He scowls. “Don’t see why it has to be him.”

“Oh my god, you’re jealous!” She rolls her eyes.

Ettore’s jaw ticks, he exhales in irritation. “Do you have any idea what the blokes on this fucking ship would do to you, given half the chance?”

“You are jealous. Fucking hell, that’s pathetic.” She says in disbelief with a shake of her head.

He crowds into her space once more, backing her against the wall as he stares into her eyes, cold and predatory. “You’re mine.”

The words send a shiver of arousal through her and she makes no attempt to stop him as he yanks at the waistband of her scrubs, tugging them down her legs along with her underwear, before pulling down his own.

She cries out as he sinks his teeth into the juncture between her neck and shoulder, the pain serving to further ignite the heat building in her lower belly. She knows she should fight him off, be angry with him for attacking another crew member, but his possessiveness of her fuels her desire for him. She needs this. 

Their movements are hurried and desperate, his grip rough as he tugs her leg over his hip, the force with which he thrusts inside of her causing her head to tip backwards as it takes her breath away.

He fucks her against the wall as though he is trying to push her through it. His grip on her will surely leave bruises in its wake, his head is kept buried into the crook of her neck, where he had bitten just moments before. The only sounds are the soft hum of the washers and dryers, intermingled with the lewd wet noise emanating from where their bodies meet and their quiet pants and sighs.

It doesn’t take long for Ettore to reach his end, spending inside of her with a full body shudder. She doesn’t mind that she hasn’t been brought to peak, there is something so primal and urgent about allowing him to claim her like this that makes her feel as though all of her nerve endings are tingling with electricity.

Slowly he pulls away from her neck, breathing heavily as he rests his forehead against hers.

The moment is short lived, however, as the scuffle of shoes on the linoleum alert them to the presence of Boyse, who stands staring wide eyed with shock before hurrying back the way she’d come.

They’d been caught.

Post script author's note: I have one further request to fill for this series, which will serve as a follow on from this part, so please do not pester for a part two. I am currently accepting requests for Ettore, but no further requests which relate to this series. The next instalment will serve as its final part.

[mint-yooxgi]

{2} - Written in the Stars - Yandere!Idol!Yeosang X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Soft Yandere AU & Idol AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor, Slow Burn

Pairing: Yeosang X Reader (ft. platonic Ateez ensemble)

Words: 16,875

Warnings: Slow burn. This story is going to be very self indulgent on my part, so please bear with the first few chapters. Mentions of Jonghyun. Fatshaming, name-calling (not done by any male idols), Wendy and Irene of RV are bitches towards OC, OC is a bit of a 'pick-me' girl but oh well. I think that's all. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Shamelessly, this part is probably even more self indulgent that the first lmaooo I apologize in advance for that. Still, I do hope you enjoy it, as I had a really fun time writing this chapter out. I actually had to split it, as originally I was going to make all of chapter two both the rehearsal day and actual performance of the award's show.

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Disclaimer: The first little portion of this chapter when the OC is speaking is implied that the OC is speaking in English. It is not until OC arrives at the venue where the following takes effect:

"This represents a line spoken in Korean."

"Bolded represents a line spoken in English."

"Bolded and italics represents a line spoken in Japanese."

Mini Masterlist - Part One

“Hello, everyone!” Your smiling face stares back at you from the screen of your phone as you go live on instagram. “I’m just on my way to rehearsal right now.”

The low voice of your publisher in the front seat reaches your ears, telling you not to talk so loudly while in the car.

“Oops, my bad,” you chuckle, turning back to face the camera. “Anyways, I wanted to do a brief live like this since I’ll be busy for the rest of today and tomorrow. I won’t be able to have my biweekly live on Friday night tomorrow cause of my event.”

Your eyes scan the comments, a small quirk to your lips.

“What event you say?” Your eyes gleam with mischievousness. “Well, as a few of you may or may not know, I’m in South Korea right now. I’ve been asked to perform an original piece of writing at the award’s show tomorrow night.”

A giddy smile stretches across your features.

“I know! I’m so excited!” You cheer. “It’s such a high honour to have been asked to create and perform a piece of written work for the show.”

A comment catches your attention briefly.

“I mean, I’m not sure if I’ll be hanging around any idols, but we’re all there to do a job, so I wouldn’t want to disturb anyone if that’s the case.” You reply, eyes briefly looking out of the window at the passing scenery. “As to if Mark Lee will be there or not, I’m not sure. If NCT is set to perform, then probably. I only know of a few select artists that will be there.”

A flood of ‘who’s and ‘omg really’s appear in your comments, a few popping up in different languages such as Korean and Japanese. You remain speaking English for now, but the other comments still make you smile. You’d just rather surprise everyone that watches tomorrow with your language skills.

“Why, whoever’s on the website listings, of course!” You wink playfully, shoulders shaking in laughter. “Nah, even if I did know, I’m not at liberty to say.”

That grin never leaves your lips as you scan the comments once more.

“Let’s see…” your eyes flit back and forth as you pick a question to answer. There seems to be one popping up repeatedly, more so than the rest. “Is it true you were on the same flight as Ateez heading to Korea?”

Your eyebrows raise slightly, amusement dancing on your features.

“Was I?” You hum, the familiar sight of those heads peeking over their seats filling your vision for the briefest of moments. “I don’t recall.”

Though, with the wink you send the camera, your comments are flooded once again.

“Nah, I’m just playing.” A knowing grin stretches across your features. “They’re all really nice people. Friendly, too. They are people after all, which I feel like a lot of others tend to forget about their idols. I don’t know why it’s so hard in general to treat others with basic dignity and respect.”

Immediately, your defence squad rolls in, asking if you’re okay and if something happened.

“I’m fine, everyone! Really!” You smile at how enthusiastic they are in protecting you. “It was more of a general comment than anything.”

Of course you don’t really want to divulge the small incidents you’ve already incurred while being in the country. You know that South Korea has a very lookism centric society, but even when you’re prepared for it, you still cannot help the way certain interactions make you feel. The looks you receive from the older crowd, many of them muttering under their breaths while shaking their heads, sometimes do not go unnoticed.

You may be a popular author, but not everyone knows who you are. Nor is everyone willing to accept the way you look, unfortunately.

Then again, it would probably hurt less if you didn’t understand what some of them were saying. Though, you will never forget when you were in a café the other day, and two taller women came up to you who didn’t necessarily fit into those typical Korean beauty standards. They were a little thicker than those around them, and goodness, were they gorgeous. The fact that both of them were your fans, and thanked you for giving them more confidence with your writing, and just who you are in general, really made your day. You could never forget them, even if you tried.

Thinking back on it now, a small smile pulls at your features.

“What am I thinking about?” You hum, noticing a few comments, only for your eyes to go wide. “My Ateez bias?” You laugh, shaking your head in amusement. “I mean…” you tilt your head, teasing smile pulling at your lips. “Well, if you know, you know.” A wink. “But nah, I’m thinking of a really lovely interaction I had the other day with two women at a café. Saeyoung, Haesoo, if you’re watching, thank you for making my day!”

The two weeks leading up to this point in time have been fairly hectic for you. Between settling into your new apartment, getting used to the time difference, and writing for your new novel, you’ve barely had time to relax. Not to mention the hours you’ve spent practicing your performance for tomorrow. You’ve barely had time to visit your friends, yet.

On the other hand, you’ve been messaging quite a few people quite often lately. 

The first few days after exchanging contact information with Ateez were a little silent, but you just chalked that up to busy schedules on all of your parts. However, you weren’t expecting Hongjoong to message you in the middle of the night complaining about a song he just couldn’t get right.

Needless to say, he wasn’t expecting you to respond so quickly. In fact, he had been surprised that you had still been up at three in the morning. Only, when you explained the jet lag, and the fact that you had also been working on your writing, he understood. You’ve both sort of become night owl buddies now, messaging each other when you’re working on projects until the early hours of the morning. A hilarious fact, especially when you both start chastising the other for not getting enough sleep.

Then came the group chat.

You woke up one day to at least seventy-five Kaotalk messages from a new chat. Thinking it had been an emergency of some sort, your heart rate had skyrocketed. Only, you soon found out that it was just the guys speculating what you could be doing since you weren’t responding to any of them at two in the afternoon.

The moment you sent them a meme of a tired cat waking up with squinting eyes, and a message that only said, ‘wtf’, the real chaos began. 

Wooyoung is convinced that he’s your Ateez bias, immediately rubbing it in the other’s faces. At that, you promptly received selfies from Seonghwa, Mingi, and Yunho just ‘casually’ wanting your opinion on them before they posted them to their instagram and twitter accounts. You also received photos of what each of the guys were doing from Hongjoong, telling you that this was the chaos you incited by finally responding.

Yeosang would comment one liners here and there that would absolutely knock the shit right out of you. The way this man had near perfect timing still amazes you, laughing to yourself every time you think back on his responses.

Both Jongho and Wooyoung are the most talkative in the group chat, but Jongho tends to message you a lot outside of it, anyways. More so than Hongjoong now, considering his main thing was that he didn’t want to bother you at first with his thousand and one questions about your writing.

You found out later it was both Hongjoong and Yeosang keeping him in line.

Mingi and you share anime recommendations when you can, and you’ve even started planning a day where you’ll binge some of your favourite shows together. You heard that San may or may not tag along, but that’s yet to be decided.

Speaking of San, he’s one of the most quiet in the group chat. You assume it’s probably because out of all of them, he’s the one you spent the least amount of time talking to. You cannot fault him for that; you both hardly know each other.

Yunho likes to crack jokes every now and then, along with Seonghwa, but they’re both really level headed guys from what you’ve gathered so far. They like to flirt, but not nearly as much as Wooyoung does. Besides, with the two older members, you can tell it’s just friendly, so you have no problem teasing them back. Wooyoung, on the other hand, you can’t be too sure. Though, if it truly bothered you, you’d get him to stop.

“Anyways, we’re getting closer to the venue, so I’m sadly going to have to say goodbye for now.” A dramatic pout pulls at your lips. “I know! I promise to do another live soon, and I’ll answer some questions about my newest novel and upcoming works then.”

The way the chat immediately starts flooding with happy messages and people saying they’re looking forward to it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Alright, lovelies,” you smile just as the car pulls into the parking lot. “Thanks for tuning in. See you next time!”

With a final wave at the camera, you’re ending the live.

Letting out a low sigh, you tuck your phone back into your side pocket. Grabbing your purse, you notice that you’ve pulled up to the side entrance of the venue. Both you and your publisher step out of the vehicle, thanking the driver all the while.

Immediately, you’re greeted by security who escorts you inside and to the backstage area. Your publisher talks lowly with the head of staff, ensuring all of the requirements are met and getting all of the details you may need for now. They’re really only here to drop you off and then head back out for the day. Besides, the event organizer and stage manager will look after you if need be.

You follow quietly behind, taking in the space of the venue as more staff mill about. A few recognize you as you walk passed, their eyes lighting up as you shoot them a polite smile in return. Some of them must be on break currently, for you can see snacks and drinks scattered around a few the deeper into the arena you get.

Finally, you reach backstage.

“So, all of the groups are currently occupying the green rooms, or milling about. That means, unfortunately, you won’t be getting one to yourself.” The head stage manager turns to you once you reach them, speaking in English for the moment. “You’re more than welcome to observe the soundcheck from the floor, or from the seats instead of staying back here the whole time, as well.”

“Please, don’t feel like you have to speak in English for my sake.” You say, noticing how you catch all of the staff off guard with your Korean. “I can speak and understand Korean. So please, let’s all speak comfortably. Thank you for hosting me and including me in such a monumental show.” You bow politely in their direction. “The room situation most certainly will not be a problem. I don’t mind at all. Just tell me where to go, and when, and I will do my best to stay out of everyone’s way.”

You can hear the familiar boom of music from the stage area reaching your ears, though it’s more of a background noise right now.

The stage manager nods approvingly in your direction, a smile pulling at their features. “I understand. Thank you for being so accommodating. I cannot stay and talk long, for I’m needed elsewhere, but help yourself to drinks and refreshments. If you need any help, Riley will be more than happy to assist you. She’s been assigned to be your personal assistant today.”

At their words, a girl with long, chestnut hair steps forward. A giddy smile rests on her features, and you can see her visibly shaking in excitement.

“Hello,” she bows, addressing you formally. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Riley,” you smile, telling her to just call you by your first name to make things easier.

“Alright, well, I’ll be off. Itzy is supposed to be having soundcheck right now, but we’re a bit behind.” The stage manager rushes off after that, speaking quickly into their headset.

“You’re not scheduled until the very end, so you have plenty of time to lounge around and do whatever you’d like.” Riley informs you with a smile.

“Oh, sweet,” you grin back. “Thank you for taking care of me today.”

“Really, it’s no problem at all!” She’s quick to answer. “To be quite honest, I’m a big fan so I jumped at the opportunity to be able to assist you in any way I could.”

“That’s very sweet of you! I really appreciate it.” You nod, moving to stand off to the side so that you’re out of the way.

“Your books are incredible, and reading them gave my boyfriend so much confidence.” She comments, a faint blush beginning to dust her cheeks.

“Ah, really?” Your eyes light up. “That makes me so glad to hear! I’m so happy for the both of you.”

“I can’t wait to tell him that you can speak Korean!” She says, grabbing a water bottle off of the table closest to you and handing it to you. “As long as you’re okay I share that with him, of course.”

“Of course!” You confirm. “By tomorrow night, most people will know, anyways.”

“Oh, are you performing your written piece in Korean, then?” She asks, eyes sparkling as you thank her lowly for the water.

“It’ll be a little bit of a mix,” you tell her, a small smile pulling at your features. “Korean, and English. Though, I contemplated adding Japanese to the speech. I opted out at the last minute.”

“You can speak all three?” Her eyebrows raise, voice incredulous.

“Yes, I can.” You confirm with a nod. “I’m working to learn Mandarin next.”

“That’s incredible!” She praises, and you avert your gaze somewhat bashfully. “I’ve been learning Japanese, but I have a hard time practicing it. Lack of conversation partners, and all that with the way my schedule is.”

“Well, if you’d like to practice with me, I’d be more than happy to help!” You say. “I may not be the best for correcting your pronunciation, but I can most certainly help with conversation practice.”

“Really?” Her eyes flash with excitement. “That would be wonderful, thank you!”

“Would you like to start now, or hold off until later?” The way you ask her this in Japanese catches her slightly off guard.

A blink, and she’s setting her expression into one of determination. “Now would be a good start.”

“Wonderful!” You smile. “So, then, Riley, tell me about your favourite animal.”

“Well, I absolutely adore sharks. I just think they’re really neat, and it’s so sad that some of them get hunted for sport.” She begins, taking a moment to think of her next words carefully. “Half of the time, they’re hunted after attacking a human, but they don’t know any better. I watched a documentary once where it explained that because of their poor…” her brow furrows slightly, “Oh shoot, I can’t remember the word.”

“Eyesight?”You supply, to which she nods, eyes lighting up in recognition. 

“Yes, eyesight!” She replies enthusiastically. “Because of their poor eyesight, humans on top of surfboards look similar to dolphins and other aquatic mammals from below.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you’re talking about!” You nod along with her. “I literally could not agree more. It’s sad that they get hunted just for following their instincts. I understand some of the reasoning behind it, but at the end of the day, you’re right. Sharks are just living and hunting in the wild like they always do.”

“Yes, exactly!” Riley turns to grab another water bottle off of the table for herself. “I just wish more people would understand that.”

“Me too, honestly.” You agree.

“Anyways, enough about me.” She chuckles, somewhat bashfully. “What about you? What is your favourite animal?”

“Oh, that’s easy, it’s-“ the words get stuck in your throat as your own brow furrows this time. You blink, thinking hard. A slight chuckle escapes you, “Now I can’t remember the word.”

“Maybe I know it?” She offers, but at the way she shakes her head once you say the animal, you know she doesn’t know the term.

Luckily for you, someone just so happens to be walking passed you for the moment, and without thinking, you stop them.

“Excuse me, but what’s the word for turtle in Japanese?” You meet the male’s gaze, noticing how stunned he seems to be for the moment.

Blinking, he tells you the word.

Recognition flashes behind your eyes as you turn back to Riley. “Right! Turtles are my favourite animals. I just think they’re so cute.” In the next second, you turn back to the male. “Thank you so much! I couldn’t remember for the life of me.”

“No problem,” he nods, somewhat in shock, before walking away.

Only, when you turn back to Riley, she wears an expression of mild awe on her features.

“I can’t believe you just asked the Yuta of NCT that question so casually.” Her jaw drops, a giggle falling from her lips as you shrug sheepishly.

“He was the closest person around.” You laugh along with her. “Though, I feel like he was expecting me to start freaking out about who he was when I stopped him.”

“Yeah, sometimes the extra staff we hire to help out don’t always act professional around the artists.” Riley explains, a sort of grimace to her features.

“Really? I would have thought there’d be a screening process for that.” You comment, brow mildly furrowed.

“There is, but sometimes they still slip through.” She comments. “That, and some people say they’ll act one way, but then when it comes down to it, act another.”

“Oh, believe me,” you hum in acknowledgement. “That I do know.”

Around you, you can hear some whispers beginning to float around about your arrival. A fact which you find a bit odd, considering you’ve already been at the venue for at least a half hour or so. Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice some more idols beginning to linger about as well.

Just as you go to continue the conversation with Riley, you hear a shout in the background of someone’s name. You watch as her eyes go wide just as you feel a weight jump onto your back.

“Zhong Chenle, you get back here right now!” Whoever it is, they sound mad.

“You’re real! Holy shit!” A voice right by your ear sounds, and you blink in shock, hands naturally coming to support the body now clinging onto your back. “Mark hasn’t been making you up this whole time in some elaborate fever dream!”

“Zhong Chenle!” The angry voice finally caches up to you, and you turn to see Kun from NCT frowning at the younger male clinging like a koala to your back. His gaze softens as he meets your own. “I am so sorry for him. Once Yuta came back to say you had arrived, he darted out of the room to come see for himself.”

“It’s no problem, really,” you laugh, and you notice your response catches them both off guard. “Yes, I can speak Korean.”

Beside you, Riley giggles.

The sound of feet hitting the ground reaches your ears, and you see some more males rushing over to you.

“Way to go, Chenle,” Renjun deadpans. “Way to make a great first impression on Mark’s author friend.”

Softly, you set Chenle back onto his own two feet. A second later, and Kun is reaching over to drag the younger male over to him by his ear. Renjun shakes his head disapprovingly all the while.

“Ow! Kun, stop it! That hurts!” The younger complains, batting the elder’s hand away.

“Once again, I am so sorry for him.” Kun apologizes, and you notice the faintest hue of pink dusting his cheeks.

“Really, it’s no problem,” you assure him, noticing too many pairs of eyes on you now.

You shuffle in your spot, beginning to rub a hand over the side of your one arm nervously.

“If he bothers you again, just come find me and I’ll deal with him.” Kun replies, sending a small smile your way.

You nod. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Wordlessly, Kun begins dragging off Chenle, Renjun in tow. 

A few more people step forward.

“Not even a ‘hello’ for your biggest fan?” Mark quirks a brow, walking up to you with both Johnny and Taeyong on either side of him.

Teasingly, you begin to look around the space. “Why? Did you see Jongho from Ateez around?”

Mark looks truly scandalized by your words, his eyebrows raising significantly as his voice almost cracks. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, hi, Mark.” You reply casually, hearing Johnny snort at the intonation you use.

“No, no, I see how it is,” an overdramatic pout pulls at his lips as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Spent all of three months convincing half the guys to read your books and this is the thanks I get once we meet.”

You lowly hear him muttering about how he is your biggest fan, not Jongho from Ateez.

“I don’t know, he was pretty excited when I met him on the plane.”You hum.

“So, you did meet Ateez on the plane ride over here.”Johnny observes, amusement dancing in his gaze.

“I did,” you nod in confirmation. “They’re all very nice.”

You notice Taeyong following along with the conversation, brow furrowed slightly as the music stops for the moment. “I think they just finished soundcheck. They should be back soon.”

“Then I’ll say ‘hello’ to them soon,” you reply, noticing the slight surprise that graces Taeyong’s features at your response. “If I happen to see them.”

“Anyways, it’s so nice to finally meet you!”Mark smiles, and you notice Johnny grinning smugly while nudging him not so subtly with his elbow. “Shut up!”

“What?” Your brow quirks, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Well, are you going to ask her, or not?”Johnny teases the younger male beside him.

“I’m getting there!” Mark pushes the elder male back slightly.

“What can I do for you, Mark Lee of NCT?” The grin that pulls onto your features says it all.

“I- uh… um…” he stutters over his words, palms nervously rubbing over the thighs of his jeans for the moment.

“Where’s that confidence now, Markie boy?”Johnny laughs before turning to you, completely ignoring the glare the younger sends his way. “Mark wanted to know if you would be willing to give him a hug when you finally met.”

Mark looks about read to strangle Johnny, a bright red lighting up his features.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so!” You chuckle, extending your arms out to him. “Hugs are one my favourite things! As long as you ask first, or I’m offering, I usually don’t mind at all. Besides, I think Chenle technically already beat you to it.”

Mark immediately sinks into your embrace, wrapping his own arms around you and squeezing you tightly. You can feel the chuckle he lets out against your chest as he responds. “Yeah, sorry about that. Again.”

“Really, it’s no worries.” You tell him as he pulls away, holding you at arms length.

“Impromptu piggybacks are kind of his thing when he gets excited.” Taeyong sighs, shaking his head.

“No fair, I want a piggyback ride, too!” A loud voice draws your attention from the side.

Looking over, you see Wooyoung happily skipping over to you, the other members of Ateez in tow. It seems as if they’ve just finished their soundcheck.

“I’m sure it wasn’t a case of her offering,” Yunho chuckles, and you see the red-headed male pout.

“Hello boys, it’s nice to see you again.” You smile, tilting your head politely in acknowledgement.

“How come Hongjoong was the only one to know that you’d be in attendance today and tomorrow?” Jongho crosses his arms over his chest, a pout tugging at his features.

“You didn’t tell people?” Mark turns to you.

“I was told not to,” you shrug. “Privacy, and all.”

“Really? Cause Mark was more than happy to literally shout it out at practice when you told him.” Johnny blinks, a teasing grin pulling at his features.

“Which now makes sense why Chenle practically bulldozed me fifteen minutes ago.” You nod, turning your amused gaze towards the male standing beside you.

“You told Mark, but not us?” Mingi pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“To be fair, I’ve been chatting with Mark a lot longer than I’ve personally known all of you guys.” You say, a casual shrug to your shoulder. “Not my fault Hongjoong didn’t tell you.”

“Wait, but how come Hongjoong knew?” San’s brow furrows, turning to look at the aforementioned male.

“He’s not the only idol that should have been informed.” A slight frown tugs at your brow. “Speaking of, Riley, when’s the briefing meeting supposed to be?”

The woman, who had been silently standing to the side all this time observing the interactions straightens in her spot. “You’re set to meet with the idols you’ve requested to join you for your presentation just before we break for lunch. The rehearsal for your speech won’t be until the very end, though.”

“Requested?” Yeosang’s brow furrows.

“I’ve seen a few of them around, but I’ve yet to speak to the majority of them.” You comment.

“I’m still mad that you didn’t ask me to do it.” Mark crosses his arms over his chest. “Some friend you’re suppose to be.”

“I’m sorry!” You raise your hands in your defence, a hint of exasperation to your voice. “The organizers told me I could only ask so many people on such short notice. I only thought of the idea less than two weeks ago. I’m lucky to get even eight of them to agree!”

“As long as you haven’t forgotten about our bet.” He huffs, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“I most certainly have not forgotten about our bet.” You meet his gaze, eyes wide in exasperation. “You’re about to owe me ten meals, Mister. Anything that I want, too.”

“I sure hope you don’t mean him cooking for you.” Johnny snorts.

“Oh, god no.” You huff out a laugh. “Not after I saw the ‘egg incident’ of Resonance era.”

“Not the egg incident!” Johnny cackles right along with you, and you notice Taeyong grimacing as he remembers it as well.

Mark’s eyes are wide, a tight smile on his face showing just how exasperated he is. He almost looks as if he wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Bet?” This time, it’s Hongjoong that quirks a brow.

“Oh, you haven’t been told? She bet him that she could learn-“

Johnny gets cut off by Mark’s nervous laugh.

“Mark Lee, you told me that you didn’t tell anyone about our bet.” Slowly, you turn your head to look at him, a tense smile on your face.

“Oh, the ‘Seventh Sense’ bet?” Taeyong tilts his head slightly in inquiry. “The whole of our group knows of it. We all want to watch you, what’s the phrase? Wipe the floor with him.”

“Mark Lee!” Your jaw drops. “I told you how I feel about dancing in front of other people! Especially when they’re idols! Not to mention the original performers of the song!”

“I’m sorry! You still said you’d do it!” He replies, lifting his hands in front of himself in his own defence. “I just got too excited!”

“More like carried away,” Johnny chuckles.

Casually, Yunho leans into Johnny’s side. “What’s this bet they have going on?”

“Oh, they were talking about some of her favourite NCT dances one time, and she commented on how one of them was, ‘The Seventh Sense’.” Johnny explains. “She admitted to always wanting to learn it just to say she knew it, but never actually got that far, yet. Mark decided it would be a good idea to discourage her from learning it since it is pretty difficult, and she doesn’t usually dance like we do. Hence, a bet was made that she would prove him wrong.”

“Listen,” you sigh. “I may not be a dancer, but don’t tell me what I can or can’t do. I will prove you wrong. I just wasn’t expecting to have a crowd when doing it. I don’t really like dancing in front of other people all that much anymore.”

“Why not?” Yeosang’s brow furrows, a slight downturn to his lips.

You curl your arms over yourself, holding your elbows delicately in you hands. A small grimace crosses your features as you seemingly curl in on yourself. “Personal reasons.”

A hushed understanding settles over all of them. That is, until Mark is breaking it.

“Is this about Kite?”

“Don’t-“

“Isn’t Kite your significant other?” It’s Riley that asks, and you notice all eyes on you.

“My ex, yes.” You sigh.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you weren’t together anymore.” She’s quick to bow to you, but you wave her off.

“It’s alright,” your expression falls, a grimace crossing your features. Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Yeosang take a half step towards you. Only, you don’t chalk it up to much, as so do Mark, Jongho, and Yunho. “I just don’t like talking about him anymore.”

“Sorry for bringing him up,” Mark pats you comfortingly on your arm. “Anyways, Ten says he has to watch you dance for the bet.”

“Not Ten!” The instant mortification is clear on our features. “Anybody but Ten.”

“And Doyoung, and Jaehyun.” Taeyong nods.

“It could be worse. It could be worse.” You begin to mumble to yourself, blinking at the ground a few times.

“Well, if you want to owe me ten meals, you can always back out.” Mark comments casually, a hum to his tone.

“No way in hell.” Your eyes narrow. “I have to prove you wrong.”

“Now, this I can’t wait to see.” Johnny chuckles, eyes crinkling as he smiles.

Just then, a voice from across the way draws your attention.

“Holy shit, is that who I think it is?” 

Looking across the backstage area reveals Vernon from Seventeen staring at you with wide eyes. Though, you notice that you’re not the only one who’s now staring at him in response.

Quickly, he bows, apologizing lowly before making his way across the backstage area. You note Mingyu, Seungcheol, Seokmin, and Jihoon all following behind him silently.

The crowd around you slowly begins to get bigger, and you notice some other idols lingering around the edges of the room, waiting to catch a glimpse of you. A fact of which that has a heat rising to your cheeks, shuffling once more in your spot.

Vernon stops on the edge of the circle you’re now apart of, smiling at you politely.

“I didn’t know you’d be here!” He inclines his head towards you in greeting, introducing himself and his group mates in succession. “It’s so nice to meet you. We’re all pretty big fans of your work.”

“Thank you so much,” you bow back to him politely. “It still boggles my mind knowing the idol groups I enjoy listening to know who I am. Not to mention read my writing.”

“You’re a fan?” Seungcheol blinks at you in shock.

“You can speak Korean?” Seokmin is equally as shocked, though there’s a hint of pleasantness to his tone.

“Yes, to both.” You chuckle, noticing how Jihoon shoots you a polite nod in acknowledgement. You smile back, leaning into Mark in the next second, “looks like Jihoon knows how to keep a secret.”

“Hey!” He whines, and you notice how most of the males around you look at the aforementioned one in confusion.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” he smiles.

“You as well,” you return the look. “Thank you for agreeing to be a part of my presentation on such short notice.”

“Wait, is that why you nearly collapsed at practice during break about two weeks ago after looking at your phone?” Mingyu’s brow furrows, turning to look at the shorter male beside him. The height difference in person nearly makes you chuckle.

The way the shorter male elbows the taller one in the side is all the answer you need.

“That’s nothing,” another voice draws your attention from the side. “You should have seen the panic Hyunjin went into when we got the call.”

Wordlessly, the members of Stray Kids now begin to crowd around you, and you notice a few giddy smiles sent your way. Though, what makes you laugh is seeing Hyunjin’s exasperated look that he sends towards Bang Chan after the words escape the elder’s mouth. The way you see some of the members greeting Ateez excitedly has your heart warming in your chest. To be able to see all of the friendly interactions between the different groups makes you extremely happy for the moment.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said she was tall.” A voice from your left draws your attention, and you notice Changbin staring at you with an awe filled expression while standing beside Wooyoung.

“I told you.” Wooyoung replies, a smug grin tugging at his features.

“Speaking of height, Jaehyun and Jungwoo owe me twenty bucks.” Johnny hums, walking off back towards the green rooms with Taeyong in tow.

You turn to Mark, a questioning look on your features.

“They didn’t actually think you’d be taller than me.” Mark grumbles, averting his gaze.

“I take it you didn’t, either.” You chuckle, noticing how a few males shift closer in order to see just how tall you are compared to them.

“To be quite honest, I didn’t,” he chuckles, and at the way you quirk a brow, he’s quick to continue, “not that it’s a bad thing! I think you being tall is really cool!”

“Thank you!” You grin. “I do, too!”

“By the way, since Chan is too much of a scaredy cat to ask,”the deep voice of Felix draws your attention to the side, “would you mind taking some pictures with us later? We think the fans would love it.”

“First of all, your voice should come with a warning.” You notice him grin at your words, and you return the smile, eyes crinkling at the sides. “And sure! I’d love to.”

“Us, too!” Vernon is quick to jump in.

“Listen, if anyone is getting a photo first, it’s me!” Mark voices loudly.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice quite a few female idols looking your way. Some of them look on at you in awe, while others cannot hide their distaste seeing you surrounded by so many males. Even some other male idols begin whispering about your appearance quite openly, but you ignore them for now.

“Yeah, yeah,” you huff out a laugh, “and I’m pretty sure you mentioned how Yangyang wants to do karaoke at some point?”

“He just wants you to perform WAP with him.” Mark sigs, shaking his head disapprovingly.

Your eyes widen in amusement, a subtle heat rising once more to your cheeks. “Does he?”

“Oh, karaoke sounds fun!” Vernon nods enthusiastically.

You jaw parts in mild shock, pure mirth dancing in your gaze. “Did the Vernon of Seventeen just invite himself along to karaoke with me?”

Lowly, you register Hongjoong and Chan whispering to their groups in Korean.

“I’m coming, too!” Jongho nearly shouts, drawing almost all of the attention of everyone backstage.

“Right, you still need to serenade her,” Yunho nods, and instantly he’s running for his life as Jongho chases him with murderous intent around the backstage area.

You turn to Mingi, “you still up for shouting anime openings at the top of our lungs at some point?”

At this, the remaining members of Ateez turn to look at Mingi.

“Of course!” He grins widely, nodding enthusiastically.

“Sweet.” You mirror his grin, noticing a few other idols commenting on wanting to join in on the fun.

“No, I’m telling you Shotaro, she can speak Japanese.” A voice coming from off to your right says.

“Just because she asked you what one word is, doesn’t mean she can speak it.” Another voice replies, getting closer with each passing second.

“She immediately jumped right back into conversation with Riley about animals afterwards.” Yuta rounds the corner, Shotaro right beside him.

At the way both males see the group you’re currently surrounded by, they immediately freeze in their spots. Briefly, each male nods their head in acknowledgement, eyes flashing in recognition as they see Mark standing a little ways away from them.

“Mark, tell Shotaro that your author friend can speak Japanese.” Yuta meets the male’s gaze, stepping in closer with Shotaro in tow.

“Hi, Mark’s author friend here.” You lean forward slightly, waving a bit so you catch their attention. “I can speak Japanese.”

The way Shotaro stubs his toe on the table against the side wall in shock nearly has you laughing in response.

“See! I told you!” Yuta crosses his arms, turning to glare pointedly at Shotaro.

“You can speak Japanese?” Another voice from in front of you catches your attention, and you see Momo, Mina, and Sana from Twice making their way over towards you.

“That’s incredible!” Mina comments, her eyes wide as they join your little circle of idols.

“Thank you!” You smile widely at the three of them.

“By the way, these guys aren’t bugging you, are they?” Sana shoots you a knowing look. “You seem a little crowded.”

“No, no, not at all.” You shake your head. “I appreciate you checking in on me, though. That’s very kind of you.”

“We’re all really big fans of your work.” Mina adds, a light blush dusting her cheeks. “We overheard Riley saying how you gave her boyfriend confidence through your writing, and you’ve done that with a few of our members, too.”

“You’re really beautiful in person.” Momo compliments, a soft smile painting her features.

The way your hand comes up to cover your mouth is so natural, a vibrant heat rising to your cheeks.

“Thank you so much,” you cannot keep the awe from your voice. “I think you’re all very beautiful, too. Not to mention talented. I always have fun singing and dancing along with your songs, especially when I need a pick me up.”

All three of their eyes light up, excitement coursing through their veins as they grip each other giddily.

“You like our music?” Mina cannot keep the joy off of her features.

“Of course I do! I listen to a lot of the groups currently around me.” You admit. “I find a lot of inspiration from them.”

“Who’s your favourite?” Shotaro cuts in, noticing how both he and Yuta casually lean against the side table now.

You smile at him knowingly, a gleam to your eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

The way he blinks back at you has you laughing lightly. Though, before you can say much more, the familiar music that begins to play from the stage area has you freezing in your spot.

“Mark Lee,” you turn to him with wide eyes, “how dare you not tell me.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re rushing towards the seating area to get a better view of the stage, quite a few of the idols blinking at you in shock. Riley seems to catch on quickly, following behind you as a few of the other idols do as well.

Pushing through the door, you step out onto the floor before the stage. You completely bypass the steps leading to the seats in favour of walking out onto the empty standing area where you can see some staff milling around. Some other idols seem to be watching the soundcheck, too. 

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice another familiar idol shoot a friendly smile your way before she turns her head back to watch the four males on stage.

A small squeal of excitement escapes your lips as you watch SHINee do their soundcheck on stage. Each male even gets a portion during their set to perform a part of one of their solos, and you vaguely hear a staff member commenting on how there will be a SHINee special this year. Which explains why they’re getting the longest stage time out of all of the groups set to perform.

The moment SHINee finishes their soundcheck, you find yourself leaning back against the little guardrail leading up into the stands. You can feel your heart racing in your chest, and you blink, finally coming back to the reality around you.

“Surprise?” Mark chuckles from beside you.

“‘Surprise’ my ass!” You smack him lightly on the side of his arm. “You want to complain about being friends for so long, and you can’t even tell me my favourite group is performing at the award’s show I’m attending!”

A few chuckles are heard from around you from passing staff, as well as a few of the idols who followed you out.

“So, I guess it’s true that SHINee is your ult group, huh?” Vernon comments, a small quirk to his brow.

“Oh, most definitely.”You nod. “At least, one half of them.”

“Who’s the other half?” Felix asks, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“Oh, that’s easy,” you notice quite a few of them hanging on to your every word, “VIXX.”

“Damn, two tough groups to beat.”Vernon whistles lowly.

“By the way, you keep mentioning this performance you’re going to be having, but who did you all ask to be in it?” It’s Seonghwa who asks, looking between you and some of the idols around you.

“Well, it was short notice, so my publisher only managed to contact a few groups that we knew were going to be here,” you reply, a slight quirk to your lips upwards. “And a few that we did not, just in case.”

“I think you asked me first before our manager did,” Hongjoong laughs, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“Since my performance is going to be on the different forms of art, I wanted to showcase different idols who matched different art forms.” You explain, noticing how you draw in a few more people’s attention with every word. “I wasn’t expecting so many to agree to help.”

“Okay, so we know Joong is one. Jihoon, and Hyunjin are two others,” Mingi comments. “Who are the rest?”

“Well, I asked all of SHINee to be in it, and a few EXO members, but I never heard back from SM. Same with Seulgi of Red Velvet. The only confirmation I got that Ten, Renjun, and Taeyong all agreed to help, was from Mark, cause he wouldn’t stop complaining that I didn’t ask him to join. Twice’s Momo and Dahyun both agreed. Bang Chan, too.” You say, listing all of the idols off on your fingers. “I tried to have at least two per category, but it didn’t always work out that way. Plus, multiple could definitely fit in more than one.”

“Categories?” Yeosang asks, blinking at you curiously.

“Dancer, vocalist, rapper, fashion, visual art, composer, actor,” you list off. “Art takes many forms, and I wanted to emphasize that with their help.”

“We were told our respective categories when we got the call,” Hyunjin voices from above you, casually leaning over the railing of the stands and watching everyone with sharp eyes. “I don’t know about you guys, but I was asked if my art could be included in a video slide show thing to go along with it.”

“Oh, mine was, too!” A feminine voice cuts in from off to the side.

Turning your head, you see Seulgi join your little circle of idols. You smile at her, noticing how she nods her head politely at you just as she did during SHINee’s soundcheck.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, I’m a big fan of your books!” She leans in to grasp your hands lightly in her own, giving them a gentle squeeze. “As are Joy and Yeri, but they’re backstage for the moment. They’re going to be so jealous I’m meeting you right now.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be joining the presentation.” An awed look crosses your features, and you can feel your hands trembling slightly in her hold. She squeezes them once more. “Thank you so much for agreeing, I’m a huge fan of yours, too.”

“Then, I’m glad we could meet like this.” She replies. “I overheard that SHINee is set to join us for the briefing soon, too. Same with some of the EXO members.”

“Really?” You cannot prevent the way your eyes shine with excitement.

“So, then, who’s in which category?” Yeosang’s voice cuts through the crowd, his arms crossed over his chest. Though he leans against the side of the stands casually, he looks a bit tense.

Just as you go to answer, a call for you and your presentation team goes out for everyone to gather in front of the stage for the designated meeting. Lunch is called for everyone else, for now.

“Good luck,” Mark pats you on the side of the arm before heading out with some of the other idols in tow.

“Thanks, Mark.” At the intonation you use, you notice Vernon’s shoulders shaking in laughter this time as he walks backstage with some of the others.

Heading over to the stage area, you situate yourself right by where you see the stage director and event organizer appear. Seulgi, Chan, Hongjoong, Hyunjin, and Jihoon all follow you over, standing around you as the other idols that have agreed to help you gather.

A few minutes later, and you are surrounded by all of them. You notice that the artists practically group themselves by company.

“We’ll let you lead.” The stage manager says.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Says the event organizer.

Across from you stands Jihoon, Hongjoong, Ten, Taeyong, Renjun, Bang Chan, Hyunjin, Seulgi, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Minho, Key, Onew, Taemin, Momo, and Dahyun. They all arrange themselves in about three lines facing you.

“Thank you.” You nod once to them before turning to face all of the idols before you. Quickly, you introduce yourself, a sense of professionalism taking over quite quickly. “I understand that this was asked of all of you on short notice, and I would like to take the time now to thank each and every one of you for agreeing to aid me in my presentation. That being said, I was uninformed that some of you would actually be joining me for my speech until a short while ago, so I will have to adjust a few things.”

Nods of understanding are seen from most of them.

“You all should have been asked a few questions when you received the offer, confirming that it is okay for my video editor to either use clips from your music shows, dramas, behind the scenes footage, livestreams, songs, events, and, or, any type of artwork you have created.” You scan the small group of idols before you. “I want to confirm now that I have your express permission to do so. Otherwise, my editor and I will adjust the video clips to be shown along with the presentation.”

Nods greet you all around, a few in mild shock that you would ask them such a thing again.

“Good.” You smile. “Now, I believe you should have all received a copy of my speech, and instructions along with it as to which categories I would like you to be sorted under. Again, if you have any issues, let me know and I will adjust accordingly.”

At the silence that greets you, a few of them sending reassuring smiles your way, you feel a tension beginning to release from your shoulders.

“I understand that these categories might not be what you usually get sorted under. That being said, I want to focus on different aspects of art using familiar faces to the public that were already attending these ceremonies.” You explain. “The lines I would like a few of you to read are meant to showcase art as collaboration, as expression, and as our passions. Again, if you have any issues, let me know, and I can rearrange some things.”

The way they all wait for you to continue warms your heart.

“I want to thank all of you for helping to bring my vision to life.” You smile. “If you have any questions or concerns, please, do not hesitate to let me know.”

“Are we allowed to see the video before it’s finalized?” Dahyun asks, her eyes wide as she blinks excitedly at you.

“Of course!” You return her smile. “The finalized version will be edited and submitted tonight, along with the script. You’ll all receive a copy of that as well. There’s simply one more thing I need to confirm before then.”

“What is it you still need to confirm?” Kyungsoo asks you, meeting your gaze.

“Well, making sure I had all of your consent to use your own forms of art was one of them.” You say. “The other, I would like to speak with all four members of SHINee about. Privately, if that’s alright?”

All four members turn their attention to you, both Minho and Onew smiling kindly as they nod their heads. You notice Taemin blink a few times, caught off guard by the sudden request, while Key’s expression remains neutral.

“If you’ll all follow me for a moment.” You step off to the side a little ways away from everybody, even the stage manager and event organizer.

Luckily, all four members follow you quickly, and you notice the other idols beginning to chat amongst themselves to give you some more privacy.

Once you’re far enough away, you’re turning to all four of them. Nervously, your hand begins to fiddle with the strap of your purse still slung over your shoulder.

“There is an additional piece I would like to add to the end of my speech, but I wanted to discuss it with all of you first.” You begin, swallowing somewhat thickly. “As you may or may not know, I have always been a big fan of your group as a whole, and have found inspiration from all of you. The reason I am pulling you all aside to ask you this, is because I respect all of you, and I would never want to do something to offend you, or disgrace his memory.”

You notice Key’s one eyebrow twitch upwards slightly.

“I would like to end my speech both making reference to, and quoting Jonghyun and his artistic views. If you would like to read what I have penned for it, I have copies ready for you if you believe that will help influence your decision. If even one of you disagrees, or is uncomfortable with such a thing, I will not do so, and leave my speech the way it is now.” You tell them, feeling your heart about to beat right out of your chest as you take the time to meet each of their gazes. “I only felt it right to ask permission from you before doing so, as again, I do not wish to tarnish or disrespect any of you, or his name.”

A beat of silence passes over all of you as they consider your words. What makes it even more nerve wracking is how you cannot read any of their expressions.

The four of them briefly share a look before Jinki is turning towards you.

“May we see what you have written?” His voice is soft as he meets your gaze once more.

“Of course.” You nod, quickly opening your purse and pulling out a few slips of folded paper.

Gently, you soften the creases, separating the two sheets with the same ending portion of your speech on them. A moment later, and you hand one piece to Key while Minho takes the other.

The silence that stretches on around you as Taemin leans into Minho’s side to read, and Jinki into Key’s, is deafening. Sweat begins to form on your hands, which continue to nervously fiddle with the strap of your purse. You even go so far as to start rocking on your feet to dispel your energy, your eyes darting every which way as they read your writing over for themselves.

You notice a single tear begin to trail down the side of Minho’s cheek.

The four males share a brief look with one another before Jinki looks up in your direction. You notice that he blinks away tears of his own.

“We appreciate the consideration you have extended to both us and him,” he begins, voice catching in his throat. “Thank you for asking before wanting to honour his memory like this.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat as his words wash over you. Perhaps you heard him wrong, but is he saying what you think he’s saying?

Again, they all share a look, Minho straightening himself while wiping at his cheek.

“Please keep this as the ending to your speech.” He says. “It makes a great addition to what you already have.”

The familiar burn of happy tears begins to make itself apparent behind your eyes.

“I know we don’t know each other, but the fact that you went out of your way to ask us permission before doing this shows just what kind of person you are.” Key adds, a gentle smile being sent your way. “Thank you for considering our feelings on this matter.”

“I think we are all in agreement that we would like you to use this ending to your speech.” Taemin confirms, a soft nod to his head.

“Really?” You cannot hide the way your eyes shine, heart swelling in your chest.

At the four nods you receive from all of them, a large smile breaks out onto your face.

“Thank you so much.” You bow deeply to all of them, eyes fluttering shut as you do so.

“Thank you for asking.” Jinki smiles kindly at you once more.

“Of course,” you right yourself. “It was only the natural thing to do.”

“We appreciate it.” Minho smiles your way as you all begin to make your way back over to where the other idols are.

Seeing you approach with SHINee in tow catches all of their attention, hushed whispers dying out to a silence once more.

“Alright, so the way I’ve grouped you all off means there should be at least two of you per category,” you address them all. “I know I’m probably repeating myself here, but I want to focus on how we all have different outlets for our art. You’ve all been told the category you’ll be under, so if you can all just stand with your ‘buddies’ for the moment it would help me explain the next part.”

Again, nods greet you in understanding.

“Great!” Your eyes crinkle as you smile. “If I could get the composers over here.”

You point to your immediate left, seeing Bang Chan, and Jihoon both move to their new spot.

“Visual artists here,” you point beside the first group, a little ways to their right.

Hyunjin, Renjun, and Seulgi all stand together.

“Men of fashion, next.”

Both Hongjoong and Baekhyun stand side by side.

“Dancers, if you please.”

Ten, Taemin, and Momo form a small group.

“Then, the actors beside them.”

Kyungsoo and Minho stand together, nodding politely at each other in acknowledgment.

“The rappers.”

Both Taeyong and Dahyun move to the side, smiling at each other politely.

“And finally, the vocalists.”

Lastly, Key and Onew shuffle off to your right, completing the semi-circle around you.

“I will represent the author aspect to my speech, but I think that one is pretty self explanatory.” You chuckle, nothing how a few of them smile along with you. “Now, each of you were given a specific line to go along with your category. You may decide amongst yourselves who says it, or if you all wish to speak it in unison. However, for effect, it would be best if we all came to a decision on whether the lines will be spoken in unison by the groups, or individually. I really want to emphasize the collaboration between all of us artists with these lines.”

You notice each of the groups briefly talking amongst themselves before a few are nodding. A minute later, and you have all of their attention on you.

“Unison, or individual?” You quirk a brow.

“Individual might work best.” You see Baekhyun nod in your direction as he responds, the rest muttering their agreements.

“Great!” You smile, shifting to pull a small spiral bound notebook and a pen out of your purse. “Let me just write down who you’ve all agreed to speak each line between you all for reference. It also makes the technicians jobs a bit easier.”

A few minutes later, and you’ve written down the respective idols that will be saying each designated line.

“While each of you are speaking your lines, the category you represent will appear on the screen behind us along with visual aids showcasing you performing, demonstrating, or working on said topic.” You explain, and you see some of their eyes light up in awe. “There will be a strong emphasis on timing, especially on my part. A lot of what I say will be synced to the video behind me, as well as serve as audio cues for both you and the lighting techs.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.” Key observes, clearly impressed.

“Well, I went to an arts high school, and I was also a theatre kid.” You cap your pen, smiling widely. “I do also have a flare for dramatics at times.”

“What type of arts high school?” Chan asks, tilting his head mildly in curiosity.

“It had quite a few different disciplines, but I was in for vocals.” You tell them.

“Not drama?” Minho’s eyebrows quirk, clearly surprised.

“No, but that would have been my second choice.” You close your notebook.

“Wait, you sing?” Momo’s lips part, an eager gleam to her eyes.

“I was trained operatically for over seven years.” Your words have clear shock pulling at all of their faces. “Don’t know how good I am now, it’s been quite a while since I last had a lesson.”

“I can’t wait to tell Jongho, he’s going to lose his shit.” Hongjoong mumbles.

“Wait until Seungmin hears this,” Hyunjin huffs out a laugh.

“Would you ever sing for us, sometime?” Seulgi asks, her whole face lighting up as she looks at you eagerly.

Your eyes nearly bulge right out of your head, heartbeat thundering in your ears.

“Uh,” you blink, attempting to wrap your head around the situation fully. One of your favourite female Korean singers has essentially just asked you to sing for her sometime.

“She’s already agreed to karaoke with some of us,” Hongjoong hums, a chuckle falling from his lips.

“Oh, I want to come, too!” Dahyun chimes in, smile wide as she meets your gaze.

“Is there a karaoke space big enough for everyone?” You put your notebook back into your purse, motioning to all of them that you’re done for now. “That’s all for now, by the way. Thank you again for agreeing to help on such short notice. We’ll practice the timing during the actual rehearsal portion designated for us at the end of the day.”

You notice the members of EXO and SHINee all nod their heads, heading off for lunch with one another after bowing to you politely in leave. You bow back, smiling faintly as they head off.

“I’m sure we can find one,” Jihoon says as the rest of you begin to head backstage as well.

“Damn, I’m gonna get to hear you sing and dance today?” Ten grins, stepping right up beside you for the moment. “I must be extra lucky.”

“What do you mean ‘dance’?” Seulgi tilts her head curiously.

“Oh, the ‘Seventh Sense’ bet she has with Mark.” Taeyong mentions casually.

“Oh!” Seulgi’s eyes widen, nodding in understanding. “That!”

“Does everybody at SM know of that bet?” You exhale an exaggerated puff of air.

“Only the people Mark told,” Renjun chimes in. “So, naturally, everybody knows. Man has a loud mouth at times.”

“At times?” Taeyong laughs.

“Do you know any other dances?” Momo asks, Dahyun nodding along with her as they walk side by side. “You mentioned that you enjoy singing and dancing to our songs earlier.”

“I know a few, but I usually don’t like dancing around other people.” You reply.

“How much is ‘a few’?” Ten quirks a grin, eyes tinkling mischievously.

“I have a few mixes my one friend made for me that I’ve learned.” You shrug. “Kind of like my own personalized random dance plays.”

“That’s pretty cool!” Dahyun comments, quite enthusiastically.

“Wait, how come you don’t like dancing around other people?” Renjun’s brow furrows, turning to look at you briefly.

By now, you’ve all made it backstage once more, and you notice many of the staff and other idols have dispersed for lunch. Only a few familiar faces linger around the space from earlier.

Again, it’s like you shrink into yourself. “Personal reasons.”

“Then, how are you going to win the bet you have with Mark?” Ten tilts his head curiously at you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a few more Twice members, such as Jihyo, Jeongyeon, Mina, and Sana all join your group. Even some more NCT members are present, and you see Mark come to stand right beside you for the moment.

“You see, my need to prove him wrong is much stronger than anything else.” You reply, noticing how you see Yeosang watching you from the corner that the rest of the Ateez members are currently lingering around.

“Name the time and place.” He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, who knows when we’ll get another chance to do this,” you say, quirking a brow knowingly. “It’s going to have to be today, is it not?”

“Now would be an opportune time since the stage area is clear of most people,” Taeyong suggests. “Riley can help with the soundboard and play the song through the speakers. Everyone would probably think it’s just us getting in another round of practice again. Sometimes we do that before shows.”

“I’ll go get Doyoung and Jaehyun!” Ten rushes off before a word of protest can escape you.

“Would dancing with someone else make you feel better?” Momo offers.

You think about it for a moment before nodding. “Perhaps it might.”

“Oh my goodness, come dance with us, then!” Sana grabs your wrist, pulling you back out towards the stage area with some of the others in tow. “Now, where’s Riley?”

You notice the aforementioned female appear from down the hallway.

“Riley, soundboard for us for a bit!” Mina begins pushing the somewhat stunned female along with all of you and back to the stage.

“What?” Riley blinks. “Oh, okay!”

“I would love to dance with you!” Jihyo grins, walking alongside you as Sana continues to pull you along. “The other girls are eating lunch, but I hope us six will do!”

“You’re more than enough.” Comes your instant reply, a firm nod of your head. “Though, I warn you, I’m probably going to be the ‘standing guy’ emoji when the music starts.”

Jeongyeon lets out a boisterous laugh from your opposite side. “It’s okay, we’ve got you!”

“I’m about to dance with pretty girls,” you mumble, causing all of the girls around you to smile. “Someone pinch me, I must be dreaming.”

Instead, you receive teasing pokes to your upper back from Dahyun who currently stands behind you.

“What song would you like to start with?” Momo asks, the members all flanking you on stage as Riley sets up the soundboard from the middle of the floor.

“Uh…” your brain refuses to function for a moment as you process her words.

“Wait, you said you had some mixes your friend made you.” Dahyun recalls. “This might be presumptuous of me, but do you have any Twice mixes?”

You blink. “I do, actually.”

“Great! Why don’t we do that, and we’ll support you!” Sana grins, shaking your arm gently in excitement.

“You all really want to dance with me?” You ask, voice meek as your eyes shine with your emotions for the moment.

“Of course!” Jeongyeon’s reply is immediate. “Not only would we be getting a chance to dance with our favourite author, but we’ve got to show those guys how it’s done.”

The wink she sends your way makes your heart leap for joy in your chest. You cannot help the way a bashful smile pulls at your lips as you pull out your phone.

“If you want, we could even do our best to follow another of your mixes.” Mina offers. “It would be like a random dance play for us. Plus, I’m sure more people would join! It’s whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“We can start with the Twice mix, and go from there?” Even though you sound a bit unsure of yourself, you notice the girls all eagerly nodding around you.

Already, a small crowd of both idols and staff members begin to form around the stage. Some stand in the wings, while others look up from the ground around the stage. There’s a good mix of eager looks and curious ones, but the smiling faces of the six girls around you manage to distract you from the less than savoury ones right now.

“Alright,” you say, walking to the edge of the stage with your phone in hand. Crouching down, you hand it to Mark. “Mark Lee, I will personally shave your head, and dye all of your white shirts bright red if you fuck around with my phone. I will also never gift you spoilers to my books, or watermelon taffy again.”

The wide-eyed nod he gives you says it all, and with the added way he swallows thickly, you giggle lightly.

“It’s mix three,”  you say, handing him your phone.

Again, all you receive is a nod from him in response before he’s walking over to Riley and passing her your phone. A moment later, and she hooks it up to the soundboard, looking up at you in preparation to hit play. After doing a few light stretches with the girls, you straighten your back, cracking your neck all the while.

“The first song is ‘Fancy’, which leads into ‘Talk That Talk, and then ‘I Can’t Stop Me’ after that.” You tell them, seeing them all nod excitedly at you.

“Do you usually dance a specific part, or is it all just chorus stuff?” Momo asks, standing beside you to your right.

“When I learn a full song, I usually learn either my bias, my wrecker, or whoever ends up being easiest to follow. For the mixes, it’s mainly just chorus stuff, though.” The way you see them all nod along at your words has your heart warming in your chest. “There’s a small intro, and then the pre-chorus to ‘Fancy’, though, so you have time to get into position.”

“We’ll follow your lead!” Jihyo grins, a firm nod to her head.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Sana smiles at you.

Meeting gazes with Riley across the way, you smile, shooting her a small thumbs up. Immediately, the music starts blasting through the speakers, and you can feel the adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins.

“You know, if you would have told me I’d be dancing on a stage with Twice today, I would have never believed you.” You comment, a light chuckle to your voice as you get into position.

“Well, believe it, girly!” Mina laughs, lightly going over the pre-chorus part of the dance as you all get into position. “Cause guess what?”

The only thing you have time to do is blink at her in response as all six of them shout out a loud ‘We’ as the chorus hits.

A large smile breaks out onto your face, whole body heating as you begin to dance along with the six girls around you. Lowly, you all sing along to the lyrics, losing yourself to the music as it surrounds you. The way their eyes light up as they watch you dance along with them sets your heart racing even more so than usual, absolutely revelling in this euphoric feeling.

Cheers erupt from some of the staff and other idols standing around the area, and you can hear Mark exclaim a loud ‘holy shit’ from beside the soundboard.

“Damn girl!” Dahyun bumps hips with you playfully as the song switches. “You can really dance!”

“Really?” Your eyes shine as you meet her gaze, noticing the other five members encouraging you all the while. At the nods you receive, you smile bashfully, tears threatening to gather in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you.”

From the crowd, you hear Ten beginning to shout in Mark’s direction. “Damn, Mark, you didn’t tell us your author friend could dance!”

At the way Mark shakes his head, blinking in shock, you can just tell he calls back an ‘I didn’t know’ lowly in response.

“You are so going to lose that bet.” Doyoung laughs loud enough for both you and Mark to hear.

“Hey, Chan, do you think she knows any Stray Kids dances?” Changbin calls over to their leader as a few more of the members join the crowd.

“Back off, Bin! She’s dancing to Ateez, next!” Wooyoung shouts at his friend, and you notice Jongho standing there with his mouth hanging open beside him.

The moment you hit the drop with your leg extended in ‘I Can’t Stop Me’, more cheers erupt from the crowd, even more staff and idols coming to see what all the commotion is about. The way you can see some people’s jaws drop in awe makes you grin, getting more and more into the moves the more time passes. It makes it even better when Johnny and Ten start hooting and hollering encouraging things your way as you dance. Even Wooyoung and Changbin get in on the action, Felix cheering along with them.

The moment the mix ends, the six girls are crowding you, talking excitedly about how much fun that was, and that you should all do that again some time.

“Thank you so much for dancing with me,” you meet each of their gazes, noticing how they all look at you fondly.

“It was our pleasure,” Jihyo smiles widely at you, squeezing your arm gently.

“If there’s ever any dances you want to learn, let us know!” Dahyun grins, giggling all the while.

“Yeah! We’d be more than happy to teach you.” Momo nods enthusiastically.

“You kept up with us really well,” Sana adds. “Most trainees can’t even do that.”

“I may not be a dancer, but I do put a lot of effort in to everything I do.” You avert your gaze to the floor bashfully, tapping the tip of you foot lightly against the floor of the stage.

“It shows.” Mina reaches over to squeeze your arm this time, smiling kindly at you.

Slowly, a chant begins to build from the surrounding crowd.

“Seventh Sense. Seventh Sense. Seventh Sense.”

“I think you’re being asked for an encore.” Jeongyeon winks at you, and you chuckle along with her.

“After you’re done proving him wrong, we should do one of your mixes!” Dahyun eagerly says, excitement shining in her eyes. “I wanna see how many songs we can get.”

“Plus, like I said earlier, more people might join that way!” Mina repeats, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“We’ll give you space now.” Jihyo says, beginning to usher the other girls away from you. “As long as you’re ready.”

“I’m ready.” You nod once firmly in confirmation.

“Good luck!” Momo cheers, shooting you an encouraging thumbs up as they make their way to the side of the stage.

Stepping towards the front of the stage, you get into position. Lifting your head, you make eye contact with Mark who still stands beside Riley, looking completely stunned for the moment.

“Be prepared to lose the bet, Markie Boy.”You grin, flicking your gaze towards Riley for the moment. “Hit it.”

An awed hush settles over the crowd as you wait for the music to start. Not even a moment later, the opening beats of “The Seventh Sense” can be heard through the speakers. 

Your body instantly begins to move, the dance having been ingrained into you with how often you practiced it since making this bet with Mark. Even your expression moulds to fit the theme of the song, and as soon at the lyrics begin, the crowd erupts into cheers.

You hit every beat, noticing how both Doyoung and Jaehyun wear expressions of complete and utter shock on their faces. Even Mark cannot keep his mouth from falling open as he watches you incredulously.

About halfway through the routine, you notice Taeyong hoist himself up onto the stage, joining in to dance with you for the remainder of the song. The way you sing along softly to the lyrics only becomes apparent when he gets closer, his eyes widening ever so slightly as his lips part in awe.

During Mark’s iconic line, you purposely look his way, shouting it at the top of your lungs with a wink sent in his direction. You notice he still wears that same expression of shock on his features, and even you can tell how red his face has gotten from your position on the stage.

The way you can keep up with Taeyong has even more cheers erupting from the crowd. Ten practically begins shaking Doyoung beside him, screaming about how you’re dancing his part right now, a giddy smile on his features. Hell, even half of Stray Kids and Ateez look about ready to fall over, their wide eyed stares encouraging you to continue.

The moment the song comes to an end, a roar erupts from the staff and idols around you. You hear some shouts from certain groups asking you to dance their songs next, and it makes you smile. Your chest heaves with every breath you take, and you turn to face Taeyong just as he turns to face you.

“You proved him wrong.” He smiles, extending his hand out to you for a high five. “You’re an incredible dancer.”

A large smile stretches across your features as you meet his hand halfway in the air. “Thank you so much!”

“Really, do you know any more dances?” His eyes are wide as he looks at you, an eager gleam shining within.

“From start to finish?” You tilt your head slightly.

“Yeah, or just in general.” He nods.

“Well, from start to finish, I know Red Velvet’s Psycho and Bad Boy, EXO’s Monster, BTS’ Fire, and GOT7’s If You Do.” You list off. “There’s a few more I know larger portions of, but the rest I just know from the mixes. I, uh, do also know a few duet dances, cause I used to dance them with my ex.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice both Hyunjin and Wooyoung chatting with Riley, of whom looks a bit reluctant to be apart of the conversation.

“I owe you ten meals.”Mark comments, stepping up onto the stage. “You really did prove me wrong.”

“I told you I would!” You stick your tongue out at him playfully, wiping at the sweat forming at your brow.

“You’ve also really drawn a crowd.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “I don’t think anybody was expecting you to be able to dance like that.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Jaehyun approaching you.

“You can really dance.” He comments, blinking at you a few times as his dimple appears.

“Thank you.”You incline your head in his direction, a warmth blooming on your cheeks.

“You mentioned knowing duet dances?” Taeyong inquires. “Which ones do you know?”

Your eyes widen slightly, noticing Wooyoung, Hyunjin, and Changbin now all making their way onto the stage towards you.

“Uh…” you chuckle nervously. “Well, I do know Baby Don’t Stop, Seulrene’s Monster, and, uh…” your voice drops into a mumble, “Troublemaker.”

“You know Troublemaker?” Changbin’s voice is full of awe. “Okay, we’re dancing that.”

“Get your own dance partner, Bin, I’m dancing Troublemaker with her first!” Wooyoung crosses his arms over his chest, huffing all the while.

“Oh, you all think I know Hyuna’s part, don’t you?” You glance at him with amusement dancing in your eyes.

Taeyong’s brow furrows. “You don’t?”

“Oh, I know some of it, but the only Hyuna dance I really know is Lip and Hip. I learned Hyunseung’s part.” You chuckle. “My best friend learned her part.”

“You dance often, then.” Hyunjin observes, calculating gaze fixed on you for the moment.

“I mean, I used to.” You shrug. “I’ve always enjoyed it, even though I’m not a dancer. It used to be my ex’s and my thing.”

“Is that why you don’t like performing in front of other people?” Changbin’s brow furrows.

“Kind of,” you mutter. “But that’s not a can of worms to get into today.”

“Okay, well, we need to plan a day where we have a dance party, clearly.” Wooyoung comments, slinging his arm around your waist as he pushes Mark out of the way.

“Dance another mix for us!” You hear Mina call out from the side where you see all of the other Twice members now standing.

At the way you hesitate, the crowd starts chanting for you to dance more.

“We tried convincing Riley to play another one anyways,” Hyunjin shrugs casually. “She wouldn’t budge unless you were comfortable with it.”

You chew on the skin of your bottom lip. “Well, I guess one more wouldn’t hurt.”

Wooyoung shakes you lightly in excitement as he laughs giddily. “Yay!”

“If you join, and I see any of you mocking girl groups, I will punt you off of this stage.” You threaten, pointing your finger threateningly at the males around you.

At the way they raise their hands mildly in their own defence, you know you have them.

“Alright, hang on,” you say, quickly hopping down the stairs at the side of the stage to make your way towards the soundboard where Riley is.

Along the way, some staff members and idols send compliments your way. A few of them are backhanded, but you brush those off for now. Besides, you feel as if nothing could bring you down.

Reaching Riley, you’re quick to unlock your phone for her once more.

“We’re gonna do another mix, but I figured my phone had shut off by now.” You chuckle, and you see her nod enthusiastically. “When I give the signal, play mix four.”

“Roger that!” She mock salutes you, and you giggle along with her.

Making your way back to the stage, you notice quite a few more idols having gathered around. Some eagerly talk amongst themselves, while more have moved to the front of the stage in order to get a better view of the dancing about to take place.

“Alright, you guys ready?” You quirk a brow as you stand back into position.

“Oh, hell yes!” Both Wooyoung and Changbin cheer.

“As a curtesy, the first song is The Eve.”You tell them. “This is my longest mix, so I might not do all of it.”

“Understandable.” Taeyong nods your way.

“Whatever makes you most comfortable.” You notice Momo has come back to join you, nodding all the while.

With a smile pulling at your lips, you send a nod Riley’s way. A moment later, and the familiar sound of music is playing through the speakers.

The more you dance, the more you notice that even some of the backup dancers join in on the fun. You cannot keep the joy from radiating off of you, a brilliant smile on your face as you move around the stage with the people around you. The way even Seulgi comes to join you for some of the Red Velvet songs that you have in the mix makes your heart swell, laughing along with the others gleefully.

The whole time, you can feel eyes on you. Whether they’re judgmental, or in awe, you no longer care, for you get lost in the way dancing like this makes you feel. You haven’t had this much fun in a while, and you’re not about to give it up now.

Once the mix has finished, another cheer rises up from the crowd. A few of the dancers even come up to you and start up a conversation about where you learned to move your body like that. A fact which makes you all the more bashful.

An intense feeling of eyes focussed on your back has you turning to face the crowd. Only, when you look in the direction you felt such a gaze coming from, all you see is Yeosang staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. Mingi seems to be talking his ear off excitedly at the moment, the shorter male nodding along quite firmly to whatever is being said. However, you’re not even sure if he’s listening to what his group mate is saying, or not.

Smiling softly his way, you notice him blink suddenly, as if to clear his vision.

Mark catching your attention from beside you has you turning away from Yeosang for the moment. Only, you fail to see the way the male’s eyebrow twitches slightly, the corner of his lips tugging downwards.

A short while later, and you’ve cleared the stage area so rehearsals can continue as scheduled. Riley makes her way back over towards you with your phone in hand, passing it to you with awe still clear in her eyes.

“I didn’t know you could dance like that!” She exclaims, visibly shaking in her spot. “You’re incredible!”

You chuckle at her enthusiasm. “Thank you.”

Now, as you settle back into the backstage area, you notice quite a few more idols and staff around. The way their gazes dart over to you is obvious, whispers reaching your ears.

“Have you eaten, by the way?”It’s Mark that asks, handing you a fresh bottle of water as you lean against the wall.

“I ate a big breakfast before I came, so I’m not really hungry right now.”You reply. “But thanks for checking in.”

“He was just hoping to get a head start on those ten meals he owes you,” Johnny chuckles, joining your little circle.

You notice Hongjoong, Jongho, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and Changbin all join you as well.

“So, when are you coming over to learn more Stray Kids dances?” Changbin asks casually.

“Um, after she learns some Ateez dances, obviously.” Wooyoung answers for you, a roll to his eyes. A second later, and a smug grin is pulling at his features as he stands proud. “Her bias is gonna teach her everything he knows.”

“Wait, you’re her Ateez bias?” Changbin’s eyes nearly pop out of his head before turning to look at you. “Please tell me you have better taste in men than this idiot over here.”

“Hey!” Wooyoung whines.

“I never said Wooyoung was my Ateez bias,” you chuckle, and you notice how said male’s pout only deepens.

“Then, who is?” Hongjoong quirks a brow, a teasing smirk pulling at his lip.

Again, a knowing smile pulls at your features.

“You mean, you won’t tell them?” Mark frowns. “You had no probably telling me that Ten was your NCT bias.”

Johnny looks absolutely scandalized by Mark’s words, placing a hand over his heart as his jaw drops in shock. “And here I was thinking what we had was special.”

“I met you today, John.” You deadpan, blinking once.

Laughter erupts around you.

“Wait, Ten is your NCT bias?” Jongho looks at you, somewhat incredulously. “I would have thought it was Jaehyun with how often you reference him in your writing.”

You shrug casually. “Some things are the same, others are not. I mean, Ten’s not my only NCT bias.”

“You have more than one?” It’s Yeosang who asks this time, his brow quirked and gaze unreadable.

“Of course I have more than one, there’s over twenty-one members in counting, and multiple sub-units.” You reply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ve got a bias per unit.”

“Yet, none of them are me.” Mark pouts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“When I was first getting into NCT you were.” You remind him.

“It’s not the same.” He whines, shaking his head.

“So, you’ll tell him your biases when he asks, but not us?” Hongjoong quirks a brow, amusement dancing in his eyes. Though, at the way his jaw twitches, you can tell he’s slightly exasperated by this fact.

“Again, I’ve talked with him for much longer than I’ve personally known you.” You chuckle. “Plus, you’re not as persistent about it as some people.”

The way you shoot a playfully pointed look at Mark says it all.

“Oh, okay,” Wooyoung nods, a maniacal grin tugging at his features. “We’ve just got to annoy it out of you.”

“That’s one way to ensure I never tell you.” You huff out a laugh, a smirk dancing on your lips. “Though, I don’t know why you guys are so obsessed with knowing who my bias is. Really, you should be asking about my wreckers. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase that a person’s bias is most like them, but their wrecker is their ideal type?”

Without waiting for a response, you walk over to join Mina, Sana, Jihyo, and Jeongyeon, leaving all of the males stunned for the moment.

“Mark, who’s her NCT wrecker?” Johnny immediately turns to the aforementioned male, noticing the others do the same.

“I- uh…” he swallows thickly. “I don’t know.”

Your shoulders shake in laughter as you begin conversing with the girls. A few hours later, Joy from Red Velvet joins in on your little circle of friends, her introducing herself and expressing how big of a fan she is of your writing. Easily, she falls into conversation with all of you, and she even brings up the fact that she and the other members saw you dancing with Seulgi earlier.

Again, you feel eyes on your back, watching your every move closely. When you spare a quick glance over your shoulder, you see Yeosang watching you with a neutral expression on his face. His arms are crossed over his chest as he leans back against the wall, one leg propped up behind him so that his knee is bent slightly.

Unfortunately, you don’t have time to dwell on it for too long, for the girls are all asking to exchange contact information with you. Of course, you readily agree, the Twice members even going so far as to create a group chat with you and the few other members that danced with you earlier.

Loud whispering draws your attention to the right where you see Irene, Wendy, and Yeri all standing to the side. You send a polite smile their way, but the only one who somewhat smiles back is Yeri. On the other hand, both Irene and Wendy could not look more disinterested by you. In fact, you’d say they almost look annoyed that you looked their way.

The moment you see Seulgi hop over to them quite excitedly, overhearing your name being mentioned, scowls pull onto Wendy’s and Irene’s faces.

Pointedly, Wendy leans into Irene, whispering quite loudly as you turn back around.

“Can you believe they invited such filth to perform at these awards?” Wendy’s voice reaches your ears, and you cannot help the way your shoulders tense. “I hope they wash the stage after she’s been rolling around on it. I can’t believe we even have to breathe the same air as that thing.”

From the muffled laughter you can hear behind you, you know it’s not just Irene that finds these comments funny.

“Wendy, stop it, you’re being extremely rude.” Seulgi chastises, an immediate frown tugging at her features. “And I can’t believe you two would laugh along with her! She’s been nothing but kind to everyone this whole time.”

“Did you see her dancing earlier?” Irene snorts out a laugh. “You know we stopped doing charity events, right, Seulg?”

“You call that dancing?” Wendy cackles. “More like flailing. She looked like a fish out of water.” A pause. “Wait, let me describe it more accurately: a beached whale.”

Again, more laughter can be heard from around the room, the loudest emanating from that specific corner where they reside. Though, the sneers and smug looks from some of the idols and staff that you’ve felt judging you all throughout the day no longer can be ignored. You have a feeling that they’re all finally getting the vindication of hearing their negative thoughts and feelings towards you finally be said out loud.

Jeongyeon places a comforting hand onto your back, noticing how you visibly deflate at the harsh words being thrown your way. Jihyo, Mina, and Sana all look about ready to cut a bitch, and Joy just looks embarrassed, her eyes widening in shock.

“People like her make me sick.” Irene comments, somewhat casually.

“Watch. I’m gonna go over there and compliment her in English, and it’s going to make her day.” Wendy laughs, already moving to push herself off of the wall.

“Wendy,” Seulgi warns, grabbing the aforementioned female’s wrist and holding her in place. “You’re making a fool of yourself, disgracing our group, and embarrassing the rest of us. You know she can understand you, right?”

You hear Wendy scoff, “I doubt that.”

Tugging her wrist harshly out of Seulgi’s grip, Wendy continues to make her way over to you. The ominous presence you can sense that is her approaching makes you tense, your hands nervously wringing themselves together.

Just then, a squeal is heard from behind you.

“Oh my gosh! Aren’t you that really famous author? I love your work!” Wendy’s voice reaches your ears, causing you to turn around to face her.

The expression she wears is one of awe, but it doesn’t take an expert to know that it’s not genuine. You can see how her gaze not so subtly trails over your body, a brief look of disgust pulling at her features as her lips twitch downwards. Though, in the blink of an eye, that expression of ire disappears, replaced by that overtly friendly one she attempts to wear.

You don’t even have to say anything, for Mina, Sana, Jihyo, and Jeongyeon all step in front of you, shooting harsh looks her way. Even Joy shakes her head disapprovingly, crossing her arms over her chest at her group mate.

Wendy looks clearly taken aback, blinking a few times at the silence that stretches on around you.

“What’s that look for?”She chuckles, somewhat nervously. “I just wanted to come over and say that I saw you dancing earlier and it looked like so much fun!” She nearly chokes on her own words, blinking as if she cannot believe what she’s about to say. “You’re a really good dance-“

“Are you sure it wasn’t more like a fish out of water?” You meet her gaze, a blank look in your eyes as you tilt your head slightly to the side.

You can just tell that your words catch her completely off guard.

“What are you talking about? I only came over here to tell you how pretty I think you are.” Wendy blinks at you in shock.

“Do you expect me to thank you for insulting me not even two minutes ago?” You continue. “The only thing I hate more than dishonest people, is someone who thinks they can get away with being two-faced just because of who they are.”

“How dare you!” Wendy inhales sharply, anger pulling at her brow. “You bitch-“

“Did you eat a stone, Wendy?” Jihyo’s gaze is nothing short of furious as she stares the elder down.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.” Jeongyeon spits, brow furrowed in distaste. “You of all people, judging another person based solely on their looks.”

“Why are you defending her? Can she not speak for herself?” Wendy replies, incredulously. “And Joy, why are you wasting you time with filth like her?”

“Unlike you, I don’t judge a book by its cover.” Joy deadpans, blinking at the girl before her blankly.

“Are you that unhappy with you life that you have to bring down mine?” You ask her, tilting your head slightly to the side.

Wendy rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Stop acting all high and mighty. You’re nothing, anyways.”

“I’m not the one that went out of their way to insult the other.” You reply, holding your elbows in your hands once more as your arms cross over your body for support.

You can see her getting more angry with every lack of reaction you give her.

“Yeah, well, you’re writing is mediocre, and you’re just a fat, ugly pig.” She spits, and it goes so silent that you can hear a pin drop around you. “No wonder your ex cheated on a bitch like you.”

Gasps are heard all around.

You wish you could prevent the way you inhale sharply from her words, but you do. What makes it worse is the way she grins after hearing you do so.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see Mark needing to be held back by Johnny.

You blink, swallowing thickly and doing your best to maintain your composure. The familiar sting of tears burns behind your eyes, but you refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing you break.

Taking a deep breath, you school your expression.

“Wow, Wendy, not many people know that fact. I only ever talked about it once or twice during my lives.” You comment. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re obsessed with me.”

A loud scoff leaves her lips as she turns away from you, rolling her eyes all the while.

“Whatever,” she mumbles, beginning to walk away. “You’re not worth my time.”

Your eyes widen significantly, appalled by her comment for the moment considering she was the one that approached you. Luckily, though, you don’t have time to dwell on it, for the girls surrounding you are immediately turning back to face you, asking if you’re okay.

“Yeah, yeah,” you shoot them all a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“I am so sorry about her,” Joy looks the most distressed, her cheeks red in embarrassment. Instantly, she bows to you. “I know it’s no excuse, but I hope you will accept my apology for her instead.”

“It’s not your fault, Joy,” you say, stepping out of the circle of girls for the moment.

“Where are you going?” Mina asks lightly, concern clear on her features.

“I just need some fresh air. I promise I’ll be right back.” Again, another tense smile is sent their way that doesn’t quite meet your eyes.

Not even giving them time to respond, you’re quickly making your way back down the hallway that you first arrived in. Pushing open the side door, you make sure you can get back inside first before letting it fall shut. Luckily for you, no one stops you, nor bothers you for the time being. Doing a quick scan of the area, you ensure that you’re alone.

It takes a moment for you to be sliding down the side of the wall. Another for the movement to become synonymous with the first of your tears escaping your eyes.

You don’t care that Wendy insulted your writing. You recognize and understand that it’s not for everyone, nor is everyone going to like it. If people telling you they didn’t like your writing, or that you were a shitty writer stopped you from pursuing your passion, you wouldn’t be where you are today. Hell, you don’t even care that she insulted you. You’ve had people insult your appearance your entire life, so that’s nothing new.

No, what hurts you the most is the fact that she would use such a traumatic incident against you. How she even knew about it confuses you, for you only ever disclosed the information publicly once, and not even all of the details. The memories are still just too painful for you, even if they happened over six months ago.

You crouch against the wall for a good few minutes, your muffled sobs being your only accompaniment. That is, until you hear the side door creak open.

Quickly, you’re wiping away your tears and standing back to your feet. You figure it’s probably some staff members either needing some air themselves, or going for a smoke break. 

You’d rather not have anyone see you cry right now.

What you don’t expect, however, is to see Yeosang peeking out at you from the small opening. He says nothing as he meets your gaze, and you don’t know whether to thank him for that, or not. What he does offer you, though, is a tissue, wordlessly extending a small packet out to you with the top already open.

Silently, you take one from him, nodding your thanks. The smile you send him is small, and tense, but it’s something.

“Riley said that your rehearsal for your speech is on deck.” He says lowly. “I came to get you.”

“Oh, okay,” you swallow your remaining emotions for the moment. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

A nod is all you receive in response as you dab at your eyes while turning away from him for the moment. Scrunching your nose, you sniffle.

“Are you okay?” His tone is soft, and you notice how concerned his eyes look as you turn back to face him.

“I’ll be fine,” you nod assuringly at him, but he doesn’t look all that reassured. So, you divert the topic as you head back inside. “You said it’s time for my rehearsal?”

“Riley’s gathering the other idols with Joong as we speak.” Yeosang replies casually, clutching that little package of tissues in his hands still.

“I see.” You hum, bringing the back of your hand up to rub at the side of your cheek.

Wordlessly, he offers you another tissue.

“Thanks.” You say, grabbing another from him.

He nods, which is the only response from him that you get.

“Hey, do you mind watching my purse while I rehearse?” You spare a glance at him just as you breach the backstage area, ignoring the few other worried looks sent your way by familiar faces.

“Not Mark?” He quirks a brow, the corner of his lips twitching upwards faintly.

“I don’t trust him not to go snooping through my bag to search for spoilers to my next book.” You chuckle lowly. “Besides, I know Jongho won’t be able to convince you to let him sneak a peek, either.”

Yeosang cracks a small grin. “You’d be correct.”

“I may not have the best judge of character, but I can tell that you’re a decent guy, Yeosang.” You say, and you watch a faint blush begin to creep onto his cheeks. “Thank you for not prying.”

Sliding the strap of your purse off of your shoulder, you hand it to him. Not even a moment later, he grabs it from you, slinging the strap over his own.

“It’s not my place.” He replies, blinking lightly up at you.

A call of your name from the stage manager draws your attention to the front.

“Good luck.” He nods, to which you nod back, leaving him without another word.

Yeosang smiles faintly, still feeling the warmth that continues to dissipate from his cheeks as he looks down at his feet. Shifting the strap against his shoulder, he slides the pack of tissues into the side of your purse, just in case.

Stepping into the wings of the stage, he watches on as you practice your speech for tomorrow, going over the stage directions and lighting cues with the staff. What he truly cannot understand though, is why, when every time he looks at you, he can feel his heart now racing inside of his chest.

[fillinforlater]

Possession of the Queen II

Female Reader x Kim Doyeon

Length: 3139 words

Tags: submissiveness, lesbian sex, size kink, dom/sub dynamics, people as sex toys, cunilingus, public sex, exhibitionism, clothed pussy, hair pulling, pussy eating but no breathing, emotional stimulation, orgasm, hints of love, sub!reader / dom!Doyeon

TW: very much public sex

Inspiration: "Sweet Juice" by Purple Kiss, @banananutsmuthie and because Doyeon hella gay

Credit: @midnightdancingsol for editing. Thank you!

PART 1 HERE

(A/N: Here we go, finally part two... if anyone actually cares xD. I really like writing these, it's definitely something different from the usual here. I hope you enjoy it too.)

“If it's that important to you, I won’t make it a problem.”

“Thank you so much!”

You give your boss a quick bow. Your heart still races after uttering your request and getting it accepted. It was likely that he would allow you to take some time off without prior warning, but there is something so wrong about it—sure, you do not know why your queen wants you around, but it’s surely not an acceptable reason to leave your awesome boss hanging, unless being a sex toy is socially accepted now.

“Can I know though,” your boss adds as you try to leave the office quickly, quietly, unsuccessfully, “what their name is?”

He has a big smirk across dark skin. while your skin on the other hand turns bright red, putting signal lights to shame. You don’t have to answer this, it’s  certainly better to go now but you stop yourself. He has it figured out, your lie must have been even worse than you thought. 

Now what? Is there a good response to this? Can you at least hide your lies better this time? Or are you willing to reveal some of this craziness to him?

“I’m sorry,” he says into the hard silence after a few seconds, “you don’t have to ans—”

“She—I mean, they, a-are awesome. Tall, strong, sm-smart and a-all that.”

He smirks again. 

“I see. I hope you have a good time and that things will work out~”

Goddammit, your good-for-nothing mouth—or is it your brain—that has these lapses every time she gets mentioned, only hinted at? 

You dart out of the office and onto the busy street. Humans walk across the sidewalks, from all sides they collide like tidal waves, yet they never hit each other. In this mess, there is you, a small nothing that no one notices. Among people with suits and ties and college students, you are invisible.

Is this your attempt at trying to run away from your embarrassment? 

In all honesty, it might—another reason why you could never be on the same level as Doyeon. 

She would stand her ground and command respect; you on the other hand can barely walk straight without bumping into a stranger. She would get her way, and if anyone disobeys, she would step over him with a death glare; you on the other hand shriek when someone laughs loudly. Doyeon would do whatever she likes; you on the other hand are a flower amidst the waves.

#

You gasp loudly when you see Doyeon laying in the spot you usually take in when she wants your services. 

You certainly did not expect her to already await you, but what’s even more surprising is everything else. The way Doyeon swipes disinterestedly on her phone is almost as confusing to you as her outfit. The cool casualness of the all black shirt, shorts and stockings, paired with surprising sexiness does not fit her image of a cruel negotiator and business woman.

“Hi,” she says and looks at you. 

“H-hello, my Queen,” you stutter and bow your head. 

You feel her gaze on you a bit longer, before she goes back to watching reels, shorts, tiktoks, whatever. Although Doyeon has never looked at you for this long at a time, you’re still not nearly as interesting as the modern, mindless entertainment videos. 

“You can leave the backpack there,” she adds, not bothering to speak louder than the voice from her phone. “Whatever is in it, you won’t need it for the next forty-eight hours. Just put it down.”

“Yes, Queen.” 

You follow her command. The heavy green backpack was filled with literally everything you could think of, like Spare underwear, a tooth brush, snacks, a razor, spare glasses, even a marker, ropes, and a brand new dildo. You remember the tingling in your stomach when you pressed all these things into the backpack.

“You’re very punctual,” Doyeon says and throws her phone somewhere onto her large bed. She inches closer, off the cushions, until she stands right before you. “It seems to be one of your virtues. I like that.”

“Thank you, my Queen.” You bow again and get on your knees. Like so often, you feel right at home. Whenever you’re here, this is your proper place, with your forehead right at her kneecaps. 

“And you are so obedient. I really like that” Doyeon coos and gently guides your chin up. Her thumb enters your mouth, the smell of her body enters your nostrils. It’s divine, golden, immaculate. You carefully suck her digits and moan an equally careful “thank you” as you do so. 

“Our taxi leaves in one hour. In the bathroom is everything you need. Pick the clothes that you like and the make-up that makes your cute face look even prettier.” Doyeon’s explanation is quick, point after point like bullets fired from a gun. “Only call me if something is urgent. Understood?”

“Yes, Queen.”

#

Doyeon is constantly breaking all the notions you held about her before. She is so confident and absolutely majestic about it that it makes you doubt your eyes for a second. When you step out of the bathroom in one of the many simple, forgettable, loose outfits that were available, she already waits at the door in black leggings, a tight white crop top, and a huge overcoat draping from her shoulders. An outfit unfitting to your image before this day; she is really changing it up today.

‘Hurry up,’ she says with no urgency or stress, but excitement hidden beneath layers of professionalism. You take quick little steps behind her, down the stairway, across the lobby, into the taxi. Doyeon on the other hand takes strides, slow strides in brand new sneakers, but in your head they sound like clicking high heels. 

The taxi ride is quiet the first few minutes, until Doyeon breaks the silence.

“Why did you choose that outfit?”

You look at her, but she looks out of the window. Something is blocking your throat making your voice sound like a pathetic cheep.

“I thought you would like this, I’m sor—”

“It looks good, better than I thought.”

Then it’s back to silence. As more time passes, you feel yourself getting more relaxed. Even the taxi driver, an uptight professional with flawless driving skill, seems more tense than you. He doesn’t dare to clear his throat, although his face looks cramped. You still can’t point out what changed though. Maybe it’s her compliment, her more approachable manner?

#

“We arrived. Follow me,” Doyeon says. You open the door on your side of the cab. The two of you climb out of the yellow vehicle. Doyeon throws what looks like at least two thousand dollars in green bills at the driver and tells him to stay put. She then turns to you.

“In the middle.”

Doyeon points towards the wide facade of the building right before you. Hundreds of people walk into and out of the rotating glass doors. Screens with billboards and repetitive ads are plastered everywhere. It seems that it’s even more extreme on the inside. Store after store after restaurant after store, some filled to the brim with people. A vibrant mall in the middle of a bright city. 

“In the middle,” the Queen repeats herself with more assertion this time, “is something like a plaza, with a red floor made of sandstone. Make sure to stay by my side and lift your head while we walk there.”

She leans down to your face and you freeze in place. Your knees almost bend at her hot breath and scary whisper.

“Everyone should see your pretty face.”

The strides, again. Doyeon’s long legs carry her quickly into the crowd. Your glasses almost fall from your sweaty nose when you hastily run behind her. Luckily, the tall woman is easily visible among all those people who dare to not part like the sea before her.

Behind the entrance, the crowd has thinned out a little, making it possible for you to walk beside Doyeon. You won’t lie, it feels odd. Her entire plan is odd. People might get the wrong idea. They shouldn’t get any idea to begin with. For those that notice you to think that you two are equals, acquaintances, lovers even would be utterly false. If they knew you just are her sex toy of course would be very much mortifying.

As your mind makes up one concern after the other, you don’t think about why you are heading to where you are heading. An empty plaza with a red sandstone floor. It fits the color scheme of the rest of the building perfectly. A space without endless amounts of feet trampling on it is massively needed to thin out the packed crowd. 

Suddenly, Doyeon reaches for your hand and entwines her fingers with yours. You yelp and look up.

“Keep your head up like this,” she says coldly, without looking at you. 

You cringe at the sweatiness of your palm compared to the dry coldness of Doyeon’s. They must be perfect for hand shakes during her meetings. She speeds up and drags you behind her for a second until you regain footing. Try to keep your head up, look at the signs above the stores, praising delicious food or sales for cloths or fucking insurances. Who goes to a mall to buy insurance?

“You see it?” Doyeon asks, gradually decreasing her walking speed. Ahead of you is the previously mentioned plaza. Rough-looking tiles spread out into all directions from which people flock to the stores they like to visit. It's impossible to make progress without bumping into them. However this plaza is completely empty and everyone has an unobstructed view of it, especially from the upper floor.

Your heart beats faster every meter you follow Doyeon into the middle. The moment she stops, her hands are on your shoulders and she pulls you in front of her. You didn’t notice that she put on one of those black face masks that not only block you from breathing in smog and viruses but also keep your identity hidden. With just her eyes she stares you down, you can’t help but feel like a tiny, fragile puppy before her. 

“Such a good girl,” Doyeon says and quickly drags a thumb over your glossy, red lips. “You know what to do, right?”

Doyeon unbuttons her overcoat to reveal her slender, athletic figure in tight clothes to you. Her leggings are pulled up just above her navel, the tight crop top makes her breasts look big and—Wait, what?

“Get on your knees.”

Around Doyeon, you always lacked the humane reaction to all her sexual requests: hesitation. She was just so overpoweringly convincing, there is no way you would have resisted her. But today it’s different. There are other people around, and you’re wide in the open for everyone to see. It’s just not the same, how could she expect you to oblige.

You stare up at her. Something about her gaze is off. It’s commanding, sure, but not with the same kind of power she usually possesses. It’s like Doyeon wants you to do it not out of fear or awe, but for a different reason. You try to decipher this reason as your hands instinctively reach for her overcoat for stability, almost having the audacity to touch her slender waist. 

It’d be easier if you could see the rest of her face, those beautiful features, the way they contort at the lack of your reaction. The frown above her eyes, each wrinkle is dishonest and not telling the whole truth. Doyeon’s nails suddenly dig into your biceps, but it’s just another front. She is not saying it, there is no reason, and so you just stand there, neck hurting from staring up.

“Get on your knees, please.”

You gasp. If it weren’t for Doyeon’s hands on your arms, you would have fallen backwards, died on impact. The red sandstone would meet the red of your blood, and if you’re honest, after hearing this, it’s not even half bad. You’re the one getting on your knees, the one who looks weird for bystanders, the one who is on mouth-level with Doyeon’s pussy, yet she falters and loses her power. 

Her hands are in your hair, making a mess of it, which isn’t unusual, however, today she is not pressing you into her core, her awaiting, eager lips. She is not using you, she is waiting for you to put your tongue on it. Even though she gives you all the control, the moment you realize the lack of panties underneath her leggings, you dig in. 

From the beginning, her moans are loud enough to drown out the announcement of a missing child. You lean in further, the hem of your skirt barely covering your butt now. You knew it was short, but it’s scary to think that anyone just needs to tilt their head a bit down to see a damp spot on your light blue panties. 

All because she said please? Throw away perhaps your job, your dignity, your life just for this one word? Judging from the way you find and nibble her clit with delight, it’s a resounding yes. You’re out of your mind—good.

Doyeon hisses and takes a step back. Your mouth instinctively follows and the inside of your thighs gets colder. People can see them, it’s not even a risk, it’s certainty. You hear the first shocked gasps from nearby girls. There are more and more people that slow down and stare. Those shopping stop and stare, those chatting stop and pull out their phones, even those in a hurry can’t help but stop and turn their head.

Flashes of light, the clatter of cameras accompanies your tongue as it presses the black fabric into the wet hole. You might not reach deep, but it’s enough to make Doyeon pull your hair in ecstasy. She goes from gazing up at the tall, glass ceiling, to down at you, the short girl with glassy eyes behind displaced glasses. She gently adjusts them, her sweaty fingers trailing over your equally sweaty cheeks.

Everyone is watching now. It’s eerily quiet, only whispering and the occasional camera can be heard. You know the rest is filming, gawking, getting aroused or infuriated, but your licks don’t stop. You eagerly eat Doyeon, faster than ever before. You dare to hold her thighs steady, as they tremble. Her arousal drenches more of her crotch, then her legs, but most importantly, your mouth. 

You get ready to drink when she finally pulls you in herself. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as clear liquid goes through the expensive fabric and finds a way from Doyeon’s pussy into your mouth. Your nose is in her pelvis too, there is no oxygen, just cum and Doyeon’s feral groans. 

The next thing you notice is her hand on your wrist. Doyeon has the overcoat back on and pulls you up from your feet before sprinting back the same way you entered the mall. The two of you crush into the frozen, flustered crowd like a bowling ball into pins. People tumble and fall to the floor, as do your glasses. No time to look back, Doyeon is going full speed for a reason. 

Outside, unassuming travelers get shoved to the side, cursed out by her sudden regain of dominance, before she literally throws you onto the back row of the same cab as before. “West side, fast” she shouts at the driver and gets in as well.

The tires screech as Doyeon is still on top of you. She finds footing and grabs you by the sides like a child to make you sit up straight. The lack of glasses is not the main reason for your hazy vision. It’s all happening so fast, you forgot how to breathe up until this point. You take rapid, uncontrolled breaths; the strange smell of the taxi, a mixture of sweat, cigarettes and death, is welcomed by your nostrils. 

“Hi, we’ll be there in twenty to thirty minutes,” Doyeon says into a phone on her cheek as she pulls away the black mask. “Yeah, depends on traffic. But feel free to prepare everything. I’ll take blonde. Yes, darker. I don’t think yellow suits me.

“What about you?”

She looks over to you. Your face must speak volumes of your confusion and it gets even worse when Doyeon leans closer to you.

“What color do you want?” she says nonchalantly, as if the last ten minutes were just a fever dream, the imagination of a horny boy walking in a mall and imagining that these two women might be more than friends. 

“Uhm, I-I don’t—”

“Hair color, babe, which one do you want?”

Doyeon is so nonchalantly again, and you cannot deal with it. Her face is so fucking close, her smell suddenly too overwhelming and that word is making you spiral out of control.

“Pick whatever you want, it’s one me,” she adds and puts a finger on your knee. Only now you notice the red imprints and grazes on them and that they actually hurt. Your mind must have blocked out the way the rough sandstone grinded on your skin. 

“Uhm, I, uhm, I take blue?” you say, unsure, unfocused, but Doyeon is satisfied with the answer. 

“Did you hear that, Kellie? Yes, blue. I think a darker tone will suit her. Of course she is. Yes, see you, bye.”

Doyeon slides the phone back into her overcoat and opens it. Her chest is still heaving as well, her abs and navel are entirely exposed now, and her leggings are thoroughly soaked. It’s all you can see, because she is so fucking close. Even after this weird phone call, she still does not back off. Instead, she cups your entire knee and gently rubs it.

“I know you don’t understand any of this yet,” she sweetly says and chuckles. “But I know you trust me, right babe?”

Her eyes have this glow again. The same glow as back in the mall. This is a sincere question, there is real uncertainty behind it. Doyeon knows that she should be right about you trusting her, but you still have to confirm it. 

You nod, flushed, out of breath once more, before putting your answer into words. 

“Yes, Que—”

Doyeon puts a finger on your lips. She goes further in, lips on your earlobe, hot breath down your neck, fingers up your thigh. You are ready, so ready for her to make you melt into the seat. She just needs to bite down, put her fingers on your nub or just say the right word, and you would lose your mind.

“Don’t say it yet,” she whispers.

“Keep it for later, babe.”