#i see my lover do them n got curious

[merc-deathsmoke]

A first time for everything 😄👍

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)

a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 

Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 

One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.

The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.

You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.

He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.

“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”

You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”

“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.

“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.

He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 

“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 

His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”

You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.

“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”

You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”

You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”

He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.

“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.

“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”

He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”

You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”

You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.

The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 

The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 

You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 

“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”

“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.

“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.

“Boo, you whore. For what class?”

“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”

“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”

“Yeah.”

“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”

“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.

“So definite no to hang out?” 

“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”

“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”

You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”

“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 

You glance at the time. 11:56am. 

“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.

You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.

“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”

You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.

“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”

You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 

She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”

You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 

She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”

You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”

Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”

Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 

“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 

You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.

But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 

“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”

Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”

Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”

She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”

–

The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 

It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 

Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 

You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  

“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”

You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 

Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.

“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 

You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.

There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.

Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.

“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”

“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”

Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 

“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 

“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”

There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.

“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”

“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 

Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”

“What?”

He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”

“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”

“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.

Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”

The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.

“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”

For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.

“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”

You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 

Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”

“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”

“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.

The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.

“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 

He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.

“Yeah.”

“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”

You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”

There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”

The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”

You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 

The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.

Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.

“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.

The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.

“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.

You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”

The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”

“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”

She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.

She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 

You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”

She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”

“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”

“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.

You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”

“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 

“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.

You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”

“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.

“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”

The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.

You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.

“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.

The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”

“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.

All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 

“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”

“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”

You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.

“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.

Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.

“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.

“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”

The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 

“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.

He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”

“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.

“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 

“Where are we going?” you ask.

“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”

Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 

Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”

He’s waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.

You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.

“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.

You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.

You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.

“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”

“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”

Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”

He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”

“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 

He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.

“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.

This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 

“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”

He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”

“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.

He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.

“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”

He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”

Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”

“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.

“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.

He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Positive?”

“Satoru.”

“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.

You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 

This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 

“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.

“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.

“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.

You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”

“I will.” 

“I’m glad.”

“No peeping.”

“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 

It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 

When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.

“What?” you ask.

“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”

You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 

You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 

“No. I love it.”

“I’m not following.”

You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”

He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”

“Your problem,” you say.

“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.

“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”

“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.

You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.

“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.

“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.

“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.

“But I usually sleep on the left side.”

You blink at him.

“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.

“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.

Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.

“Are you su-”

“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.

He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”

The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.

He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.

“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.

“Sneak what in?” 

“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”

You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 

“Before,” is all you say to him.

He sighs. “y/n…”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.

It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.

“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”

“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.

You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”

“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”

“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.

He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”

“That’s it? That’s the reason?”

“Mhm.”

You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”

He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 

“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.

“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 

You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.

“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.

He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.

You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.

“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 

He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 

Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.

“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.

“It’s okay,” you whisper too.

The silence settles for longer.

He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.

“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.

“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”

You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”

“Reasons.”

“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”

He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”

You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.

“Like…guilmon from digimon?

“Mhm.”

“You like digimon?”

“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.

“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 

“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.

He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.

He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.

“Hey–”

“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 

“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.

“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”

When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 

“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.

“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”

“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.

“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.

You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 

He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”

You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.

He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.

You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.

“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 

You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.

It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.

You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 

You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.

“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”

“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”

He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”

You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”

He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”

“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.

“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”

You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.

“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 

“Mhm, makes sense.”

His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.

You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”

He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”

“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”

“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 

“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”

He nods. “You do.”

There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.

“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.

“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”

“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”

“I asked him for it.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”

“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”

There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”

You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”

He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”

“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”

“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”

“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.

You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 

“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”

“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.

“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”

His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 

You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.

“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”

“You’re not bad,” is all he says.

“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”

“y/n,” he says, like a warning.

“I mean it,” you whisper.

“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.

“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.

“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 

Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 

Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.

–

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.

Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.

You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.

The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 

It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.

“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”

You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.

Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”

You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 

You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.

“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.

Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.

“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.

“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.

Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”

All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.

“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”

With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.

“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.

You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”

“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 

“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.

He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”

“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.

He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”

“When did you graduate?” you ask.

“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 

You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”

“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.

“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.

He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”

“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.

“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.

You meet his gaze. “No way.”

“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 

You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”

He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”

You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”

“Yup.”

“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.

“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”

You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”

He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”

You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”

The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.

“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”

“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”

“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”

“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”

He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”

You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”

He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”

Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”

He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 

Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”

He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”

You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.

“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.

The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.

UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.

The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.

“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.

“Went fine,” Kai responds.

“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”

Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”

Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”

Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.

“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.

You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.

There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.

“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.

“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.

He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 

You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 

And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.

When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.

“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.

He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it.

“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.

He sighs. “Yes.”

“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.

“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”

You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.

“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.

“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”

“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”

He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”

“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”

“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”

“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”

“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.

“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.

He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”

“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”

He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”

He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”

“Mhm. Thanks.”

He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.

The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 

You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 

You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 

Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.

|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera

|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way

The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.

You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.

|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there

a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off

➸ take me to chapter nine!

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[littlemissmiller]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑵𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝑫𝒐𝒐𝒓

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: (au) (Joel is dad to a 9 year old Sarah) Joel has been your neighbor for some time and you and him have become friendly. In an attempt to spend more time to him (and a desire to show off your summer body) you throw a pool party…

Warning: 21+ (drinking), smut, fluff, friends to lovers, use of nicknames (babydoll, baby, darling), p in v, ass eating, cowgirl style, fingering, couch sex, porn with a plot

Work count: 4.1k

A/N: hi all! the official first day of summer is today and i got inspired by a pool party i went to with my mans so i just had to write this cute lil smutty, fluffy story. i have a billy request coming and hopefully i get ch 3 of Summer Highs out soon (i know i said it would be soon don’t trust me on a release date which is why i don’t do them) ok that’s it! much love and enjoy ❣︎

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It’s always a hot summer in Texas. It would feel weird if it wasn’t, but this year it feels like the earth is a legit bun in the oven. The whole neighborhood is feeling the heat, so given you have a pool in your backyard, you invite people over for a summer kickoff. Of course it has nothing to do with the fact you are desperate to see Joel Miller in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. From just his work shirts alone, you could see how tight his shirt hugged his muscles. How toned his back was whenever he would sweat through it doing yard work. You would always wave over to him from across the street, occasionally bring him water or lemonade while he worked. And today, your excuse for seeing him was to invite him to your pool party. You catch him outside after work, in his garage tinkering around under his truck. You stroll across the street and walk in. You knock on the side of the garage walls and Joel slides out from under his Silverado.

“Well hey there!” He beams, striding towards you

“What’s up cowboy.”

“Not much, waiting for Sarah to come home from soccer camp.” He informs

“Oh keeping her busy.”

“Well between so and the library reading contest she’s more or less keeping herself busy. Determined to get those Astro tickets. I promised we would do a road trip and she reaches thirty books by the end of June and wins the two tickets. She’s already at twenty five. She has a whole strategy.”

“Wow. Good for her. Well I hope she’s not too busy this weekend…” you state

“Oh yeah why’s that” he smiles, leaning his arm against the garage and above your head. You feel totally lost here with him looking at you how he is. His big brown eyes, so curious and pleasant, simply wondering what you have to say. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation.

“Well I sent out an evite a little bit ago, but I wanted to come tell you in person that I’m having a pool party Saturday. I thought we could all beat the heat ya know.”

“Yeah we‘ll be free.” He steps back, taking a rag from his waist and wiping his hands. He heads toward his garage fridge and gets out two bottles of water, offering you one.

“Thanks. So you do have your own water.”

“Yeah I always keep that fridge full. Especially with Sarah and her friends I practically always got Gatorade.”

“So you just like my water better?”

Joel smiles at you, combing his hair with his fingers. You watch his muscles flex and wish that you can be wrapped in them. He starts to look through his tool box and nods.

“You could say that. So Saturday you said? What time?”

“It starts at 12, but you can stay for as long as you’d like.”

“I’ll talk to Sarah, but I have a feeling she'll say yes. She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take.”

“I’m sure.”

“We’ll see ya Saturday then.” He winks and disappears back under his truck

You waltz out of the garage and back to your house. You trot inside gleefully and close the door behind you. You could jump, squeal, practically combust. Not only did you just figure out Joel had his own drinks on deck whenever he works, but always accepts an offer from you no matter what. God he must like you. He must. You hope you're not thinking too much into it but, you couldn’t help but think when he said “She loves you, so any excuse to see you, she’ll take…” he really was talking about himself. You bite your lip and roll your eyes. You want him so badly. So bad you feel like you are going to explode. You lean your head back against the door and sigh.

Saturday comes around soon enough, and you spend the whole evening and next morning preparing for the day. You clean your house, chop lettuce, tomatoes and onions for burgers, cut up a watermelon and make a macaroni salad. Even though you hadn’t explicitly asked for his help, you had a feeling Joel would want to help grill and you’d gladly take it. You prepare a cooler with a few beers and some water and put it in your garage fridge. Next you set up the pool area. You lay the cushions on the pool chairs, unwind the umbrellas and set out a few pool noodles. Everything looks perfect and your first guests start arriving around 12:08. More and more people arrive and at around 1:30, you finally see Joel and Sarah pulling up. He walks in with his own cooler and a swim bag. He approaches you while Sarah runs off to the other neighborhood kids.

“Well hey cowboy! Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah sorry we are late. Work called last minute and I had to help them order some more flooring for our site.”

“No worries. But these people are getting hungry and maybe you could help grill. I hate to put you to work…”

“Ain’t no trouble darling.”

“Ok I’m going to change. The patties are already formed, just in the fridge.”

Joel follows you inside and heads into your kitchen, poking his head in the fridge. You walk upstairs to your bedroom and change into your swimsuit. You had gone out that week and picked out a new suit. It was white, a two piece, the edge frilled, and it shaped your figure so well. You spin around and admire how it sits on your ass. The back had a cheeky build, and totally gave the viewer an idea of how your cute little ass looks. Not to mention the way it rides up, exposing your cheeks slightly, it’s perfect and you can’t wait for Joel to see you in it. You put your jean shorts back on and find one of your white, open-knit, pool coverup and a red, and a worn USA baseball cap. You pull your ponytail through the loop of your hat and spin around one last time.

Rushing down the stairs, only to find Joel already outside starting the grill. You sigh in disappointment. You take a beer from your fridge and try to open in on your own. Then Joel walks back inside. Even though your back is turned to him, he can tell you are struggling.

“Need help?”

You jump and turn around, your tits bouncing slightly as you turn, which Joel notices. He also seems slightly speechless as you turn to face him. His sentence cut off, face frozen, as if you stole the words from his mouth.

“Uh yeah, thanks.” You hand him the bottle and he takes it, uncapping it like it’s nothing. He hands it back to you and you take a swig.

“Oh hey so because I was so outta sorts getting out the door, I totally forgot to get sunscreen. You got any, Sarah is itching to get in the pool.”

“Of course” you run back up to your bathroom, find a 50 SPF bottle and head back down stairs. Joel calls out to his daughter and she comes rushing inside. At the sight of your face she enthusiastically calls your name and rushes towards you. You hold her in your arms.

“Hey sunshine!”

“We brought brownies!” She proclaims

“Oh did your dad make them?”

“Mhmm. Well he helped, I really was the baker!” She insists

Joel lets out a playful chuckle and rolls his eyes in amusement.

“Yeah, especially with all those eggshells you had to fish out?”

“At least I know how to preheat the oven.” She claps back

Joel smirks and then looks at you. He has always appreciated how loving and kind you are to Sarah. He appreciates knowing that when she’s with you, she’s in more than good hands. And you adored her as well.

“Hey! let her get that sunscreen on ya.”

“I’m fine! I’ll stay in the shade!” Sarah protests but before she can scurry off you’re already squirting it into your hand, applying it to her shoulders.

“You know you don’t have to listen to him. I thought you’re supposed to be the fun one!” She whines, and you smear her face. She scrunches it up in displeasure.

“I am the fun one. This is called fun in the sun, sunshine.”

She groans and pulls her face away.

“You know I think I saw a bomb pop with your name on it out in the garage fridge, if you can still hang in there for one more second.” You promise. “Ok there. Top shelf in the garage. Bring a few for the other kids. Ok?”

“Yes!” She states firmly and rushes off into the garage

“She just loves to keep ya busy…”

“Tell me about it.” Joel rolls his eyes “you uh…you look nice…” he swallows nervously

“Thanks, it’s new. I got it for today actually.”

“Oh really. Trying to impress someone?” He asks

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You quip back, smirking “how’s those burgers coming along”

“Grills still heating up, this is really nice of ya to invite everyone. Sarah hasn’t really had much pool time with soccer.”

“Well you two are invited over anytime.”

“Appreciate the offer. What else do you need for these burgers?”

“Here” you state, turning to the fridge and opening it.

You grab the toppings, cheese, and condiments and follow him outside. As Joel grills, you make your way around, chatting with your fellow neighbors. Eventually you get in the pool with a playful “go on sugar, I’ll holler at ya when they are ready” from Joel. As you strip off your top and shorts, Joel checks you out from across the pool. He can’t help but let his eyes linger on the curves of your body, the way your bikini bottoms hug your ass, and how nice and perky your boobs sit on your chest.

You notice him checking you out, your own eyes hidden behind your sunglasses. You try not to look so much, but with his back to you, it’s easier to admire his broad shoulders. And you have to admit, Joel is absolutely radiating domesticity. You could easily get used to this sight. Sarah splashes around you, pretending to be a mermaid looking for pearls and you throw sinking rings for her to dive for. Joel catches you playing with Sarah, and smiles. The smell of hamburger meat fills the air and Joel calls to you. You throw some more rings in to keep Sarah occupied and head out of the pool.

“How are these, little lady?” Joel asks as you approach

“Fantastic! Let’s put cheese on half of them.”

“You got it!”

People start to gather for food and you help Sarah dry off and get her a plate.

“Cheese or no cheese baby?” Joel asks Sarah as she approaches the grill

“Cheeeese!” She smiles, showing off her big smile to her dad

“What about you doll?” He asks you

“Same as her.”

After you eat, you wait a while to get back in the pool. You lay out with a few of the girls from the neighborhood Wine Club. As you chat, Joel admires the way the sun glimmers off your body. With most of the food served, Joel joins his daughter in the pool. You watch as he takes off his shirt, gawking over his bare chest. His shoulders cut into his neck so sharp and clean and you can help but want to feel how strong he is. And You smirk to yourself, happy to finally see him exactly how you wanted to. And he looks damn good in his turquoise-green trunks.

“I’ll be right back…” you excuse yourself, striding over to Joel, swaying your hips

“Can I get you a drink? I’m getting another beer, and maybe one of those brownies I heard about.”

“Oh I want one!” Sarah exclaims

“If you get out you’re getting more sunscreen on ya babe..” Joel promises

“She can bring me one and I can eat in the pool!”

“No, no baby. C’mon.” He argues, lifting Sarah out of the pool and onto the pavement.

“Awww!” Sarah whines, swinging her arms and legs.

You hold her hand and take her to the food, you grab a towel, wrap her in it and get her a small plate. You place a brownie on it and hand it to her.

“Can I have two?” She bats her eyes

“Go ask your daddy…”

She waddles over to Joel, squatting down to ask him. He rolls his eyes and nods and she trots back to you.

“He said I can!”

As the afternoon turns into evening, more and more people head back to their homes and pretty soon the sun is setting. You start to clean up, picking up plates and empty bottles and taking them inside the house.

The last few neighbors pop in to thank you and say goodbye and behind them is Joel.

“Hey…need some help?” Joel asks you

“Oh you’ve done more than enough. Y’all headed out?”

“I uh...sent Sarah home with the Adler’s. They said they’d watch her for the evening until I got back.“

“Oh! Well I would have loved to say goodbye to her.” You frown

“I bet she would have too, but she passed out on my knee even with everyone running around. Danny wanted to get his Ma home anyways…” he explains

He walks up to the kitchen counter and places a few empty beer bottles down. You smile and thank him. He helps bring in a few more bottles and follows you around with a trash bag as you pick up plates and plastic silverware. After everything is cleaned up and the pool is closed up, you and Joel head inside.

“Well I don’t wanna keep you from Sarah much longer.”

“It’s ok, unless that’s your way of kindly kicking me out, then by all means I’ll head out.” He smirks

“No no, you can stay if you like…”

“You sure?”

You nod and he closes the sliding door leading out to the pool, locking it.

“I don’t have much beer left, but you seem like a whiskey guy to me.” You imply

“I sure do.”

You pour him a glass and he leans over your counter. He smiles and he holds the glass to his lips and sips.

“I really appreciate ya Joel.”

“It’s no trouble.”

There is a brief moment of silence as you take a sip of your whiskey and gaze into his big brown eyes. You can’t help but feel he’s looking at you in the same way. A wave of desire washes over you and just as you're about to speak, possibly trying to make a move, Joel strides over to you.

“Ya know if ya ever need my help, I’ll always be willing. Whatever you need…”

“You’re too sweet Joel, I feel like I need to make it up to you.”

“Maybe you can, baby…” the words slip from his lips and steal your breath away. You gasp and move in closer to him.

“I’m sorry, can I call you baby?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Yeah? Well then baby, kiss me…”

You lean up, cupping his face and pressing his lips against your own. He holds your face in return, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks and moaning into your mouth. Your hands move to cup his neck as you move your face, deepening the kiss. Joel clutches your jaw, pulling you closer and raising you onto your tippy toes. You chuckle against him. This is finally happening. You’re finally kissing the man you’ve dreamed of. Ever since him and Sarah moved in, you have wanted him. It was no secret. Perhaps that’s why the Adler’s offered to watch Sarah. To give you this moment. And you’re ever so thankful.

Joel’s calloused palms move to your waist, slowly trailing down your body, feeling the sides of your bare skin. You hadn’t bothered putting your swim shirt back on after the pool and you were grateful. You welcome his fingers and let out a girlish giggle, his feather light touch overwhelming.

“How late do you wanna stay?”

Joel checks his watch. It’s 8:10.

“I told the Adlers I would be back by 9 so I mean…is that enough time for you…”

“I’ll take whatever you give me.” You smile against his face, kissing his cheek.

With that he returns his mouth to your own and he moves to cup under your shorts. He squeezes your ass and moves his hands under your thighs. In one swift motion he picks you up and is moving you both to your couch. You and him stumble into it and he sits down with you on his lap. You gasp and pull back.

“Ok that was fucking hot Miller, my god could you get any sexier.”

“You know what’s sexy…” he implies, pulling on the front of your bikini top, snapping the strap

“You like it?”

“You look like an absolute snack in this thing darling. And your ass, fuck I couldn’t stop looking at it by the pool.” he pants

“Glad you noticed. I was trying to impress you if you didn’t pick up on that when I told you.”

“Oh I did, and it worked. It definitely worked.” He sighs, sealing his words with another searing kiss.

You rock against him as his mouth moves with yours. You simply can’t get enough of him like this and he desperately wants to devour you. His hands wrap around your back, pulling you flush against his chest. He moves to squeeze your ass again, fingers dancing underneath your jeans. He grabs and gropes you, causing you to whine and whimper into his mouth.

“I love those pretty little noises you make, baby. I can’t wait to hear what other noises you make for me.” He whispers

He pulls at the hem of your jeans, tugging on them until they slide down your ass. You stand up, pulling them down your smooth legs. He starts rubbing the back of your thighs, moving his hands up and down and settling them underneath the cheek of your ass. He pulls your waist close to his face, your pelvis practically grinding up against his nose and lips. You delicately place your hands on his shoulders as he admires you.

“Let me see that cute little ass of yours again, babydoll”

Then suddenly you are spun around and he grips the strings of your bikini bottoms slowly pulling them down. As he does, he kisses the bear skin that’s being revealed to him until his lips are consuming your ass. You let out a sigh, arching your back slightly as his mouth finds your core. He dives in, placing his hands on the meat of your ass and nuzzling into your cheeks. His soft lips began to kiss your folds, and you buck up against his face. He growls against you, groping your cheeks and diving in to taste you. His mouth and tongue finds your clit and he begins to lap at it. He’s so hungry for you. So desperate to drink up your juices like a sweet nectar. Your legs quiver slightly and Joel notices. He wraps his hands around the front of your thighs, steadying you , while simultaneously pulling you closer to his mouth. He pulls back quickly, replacing his mouth with his fingers. He rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves feverishly, cooing as you moan and whine.

“Tastes so good. So fucking good baby.” He whispers.

He mouths at your pussy, his saliva mixing with your juices, making you so wet. You’re throbbing into his mouth and he places a few chase kisses to your cunt, before pulling away. He takes his shirt off and tosses it aside. He gives your core a few more open mouth kisses then spins you around once more, and you take off your top. You slowly pull the dainty string, letting your bikini top fall off you and onto his lap. He moans, clutching the top in his hand. You move to straddle him and he tosses the top on the ground.

Before you can put your weight on him, he bucks his hips, taking his trunks off. His cock springs forward and he takes his incredible length in his hand. He slowly pumps himself and you lower your ass onto his thighs. You don’t quite sink into him yet, wanting to appreciate this moment with him. He cups your ass and you clasp the back of his neck. He leans forward to press feather light kisses along your jaw and neck. Then his actions get more aggressive as he starts to manipulate your breasts. You mewl and arch into him. Your entire body starts to slowly rock against his, teasing him with your wet core on his cock.

“Fuck I want you. I can feel ya. So wet.”

You nod, biting your lip and Joel loves his hand down in between your legs again. He plays with your clit for a moment, before sinking a finger in you. You buck up on him, and steady yourself on his shoulders. He pumps his finger into you, loving the way your heat and juices consume his digit. He adds another one, and you feel so incredibly full.

“You ready for me?” Joel murmurs against your neck.

“Mhmm, please Joel. I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasp as he removes his fingers. He wraps his hand around his cock, guiding it to your entrance. The tip pokes in, then you engulf the rest, taking his full length in you. He lets out a staggering moan as he works his lips down to your collarbone and valley of your breasts. You move your hips, slowly grinding on his cock and your tits bounce in his face. He chuckles and looks up at you. He sits back, holding your hips as you ride him.

“Fucking look at you girl. So gorgeous my god.”

You giggle in return, feeling up your body and playing with your boobs.

“That’s it, put on a little show for me.”

You bounce on him, continuing to feel your body and then you touch your clit, swirling it around in between your fingers. You let out a long, breathy moan, tilting your head back.

“Mmm Joel, Joel Joel Joel….” You hang his name as he squeezes your ass harshly. He helps you move, shoving your body onto his cock and moving his hands to hold your hips.

“That’s it. Oh my god you’re perfect…”

You learn back slightly, rolling your hips and tummy. He splays his hands over your waist, his breath hitching. He loves watching you move. He loves how you feel and needs more. Joel moves expertly to stand up, keeping himself buried inside you and, placing you on your back, you yelp as he lays you on the couch. He dives in for your lips again. He crawls on top of you, wasting no time shoving his length into you. Cupping your face. He rocks his hips, his cock filling you up once again. He speeds up, drilling into you. Your legs fold up to your chest, giving him better access to your pussy. As he thrusts into you, his beautiful eyes meet your own, his gaze thirsty for more. He rests his forehead against you and pants.

“You close?”

“If you touch me again. Play with me a little then I’ll come… please Joel…”

“Yeah? Like this baby?”

He aggressively rubs your core, his hand in sync with his hips. You nod and let out a series of incoherent babbles. You move against his hand and cock, a pool of ecstasy filling your stomach and drowning your senses. Your heat builds and builds until you break. You clench down around him, your breath leaving you as Joel’s mouth falls onto your own. With a few more of his own pumps, his seed is spilling inside you.

“Oh shit” he curses “fuck baby it’s just you felt so good shit I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine I’m on the pill.”

“You sure it’s ok?

You nod and he kisses you deeply, lips pressing firmly on your own. You moan, holding his face.

“You just might be the most perfect thing on the planet, ya know that?”

“Whatever you say.” you chuckle

“I know this may come off as formal given what we just did, but I really wanna take you out for a drink sometime. Like an actual date. If you want?”

“Yes Joel, I’d like that very much.”

꧁•☀︎•꧂

[ihavethedreamies]

Easy | Felix | Easy to Expert (1)

Lee Yongbok (Felix - Stray Kιds)

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5k

Pairing: Felix x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, Biting, One Singular Spank, He Gets a Bit Rough, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Don't do what they do.)

Summary: In which you can't normally get off and Felix doesn't like this one bit.

Author's Note: Imagine trying to write something like this with a straight face because you are at your uncle's house in the living room with everyone else there and you can't go anywhere else...

Also your friend's name is Yuna here and she's not a reference to any idol or anything, this was just the name that came to mind.

-> Part 2 <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"He had the stamina of a work horse; I thought I was going to die."

"Really?" You weren't convinced.

"No, seriously. I had never came that many times in one session." Your friend shook her head and you blinked. You watched her take a swig of beer and you took another bite of chicken.

"You started without us?" Someone whined behind you, and you turned to see Jisung and Minho coming up to your table. The younger man pouted as he sat down in the empty chair next to you while Minho sat on his other side.

"You guys are half an hour late." Yuna sneered at them, waving a drumstick aggressively.

"Where's everyone else?" you asked.

"Seungmin can't make it, Jeongin is sick. Chan and Changbin are on their way from the studio. Felix and Hyunjin just left campus after dance practice." Minho listed off, waving his hand up to get the auntie's attention to get beer.

"Is Jinnie going to shower first? Poor thing looks like he fell in a pond after dance practice." Yuna bounced a bit as she talked since the waitress brought over the order of Tteokbokki you had ordered.

"That's why they're late." Jisung spoke around a mouthful.

"Anyway, he ended up breaking up with me because I apparently wasn't enough for his libido." Yuna continued her story despite the fact two of the boys had arrived and Chan and Changbin were arriving.

"Woah, what?" Chan laughed setting his bag down next to her and the other man sat across from Minho.

"Is this the same guy who said he wished he had two dicks to fuck twice as much?" Changbin asked as you watched his shirt tighten over his chest as he took his jacket off. Everything he wore was so tight…You were taken out of your zone-out when he scoffed, "My eyes are up here (Y/N)." Everyone laughed at you and your face tingled a bit, you took a sip of beer not meeting his eyes.

"Wait, what?" Chan asked again and Yuna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah. I think he was possessed by a sex demon or something, geez."

"Who are we talking about?" The oldest man asked. Yuna then recapped everything she had told you to Chan who stared blankly at her the whole time.

"Okay, way more than I ever needed to know." He shook his head and grabbed his chopsticks.

"You don't even know the half of it." Changbin huffed and the other girl gasped dramatically.

"You asked me to tell you most of it!"

"Not everything! I really didn't care about who you did everything with first, that was a long ass list."

"A list of asses?" Minho seemed to tune in at a very specific time.

"Do I want to know?" A new voice groaned as Hyunjin sat at the end of the table. Felix came around to the other end near you and took a seat.

"Yuna is sharing WAY too much again." Jisung's eyes got big to emphasize his point.

"Well, this started because (Y/N)-"

"NO!" You almost leaped across the table to shut her up. That unfortunately made the boys all the more curious and it was getting steadily louder as they urged you to share. If not but to spare the rest of the patrons and workers, you finally relented.

"I just told her that I didn't see too much point in rushing into sex in a relationship because I don't get much out of it." You didn't look at anyone, just cast a glare at Yuna, then back at your beer bottle.

"Well, you need to find someone else then." Minho told you matter-of-factly.

"It doesn’t matter, and it's not like partners haven't tried…I just can't…I-I can't finish…" You mumbled the last part, and it went deathly silent. You could feel the eyes on you but for some reason, the ones to your left were burning. Glancing up to meet Felix's stare, you're startled by his expression. He looked…intense. You shifted under his gaze. He knew you liked him, and you knew he liked you, but not much had come of it. You two kissed briefly a few weeks ago but it was interrupted, and it hadn’t happened since.

"Wait, seriously? Have you ever?" Chan asked, he had stopped eating. This was serious to him.

"Yeah, but it took forever. I had to do it myself and it wasn't easy." You shrugged. Because of this fact you hadn't had very many sexual encounters or partners. It’s just frustrating when nothing ever came of it.

"So that's when I told her that my last boyfriend might be able to do it since he got me off like six times at once." Yuna explained as she shoved more food in her mouth.

"Did you ex ever do it?" Jisung asked and you nodded.

"Once." That wasn't why you had broken up; he had moved away for work and long distance didn't work too well so you drifted apart.

"Have I ever told you guys about my college roommate's girlfriend?" Hyunjin cut in and quickly everyone was diverted over to his story of the fact that this girl was not loyal by any means. And neither was her boyfriend. Unfortunately for Hyunjin, he was both of their type and he ended up having to switch rooms. The night continued and as more food was eaten, more alcohol was consumed. The rowdiness became too much, and you were more or less kicked out. Yuna was drunk and Changbin promised to get her home in one piece, so he left with her on his back. Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin followed suit since they all were going to the same place, and you were left with Minho and Felix.

"I'll walk her home. Go check on Jeongin, he might be asleep already but he's not texting back." Felix told the older man who nodded and said goodbye so you two were left alone. You had only one beer that night and Felix didn't even finish his, so you were not even tipsy.

"I-I can get home okay, I didn't drink much." You tried to wave him off.

"It’s okay. Just because you're sober doesn't mean I should let you go alone." He smiled softly and you internally gushed over how pretty he was.

"Thanks." Beginning to head in the opposite direction of everyone else, you two walked in silence for most of the time, but it was companionable. In your head you just kept replaying the small kiss from a few weeks before, not really sure why you were looping on it. When you got to your building, you expected him to leave you at the door, but he opened the door for you and led you toward the elevator.

"D-Do you want to come in? I have some cheesecake left that I can't finish on my own…" You couldn't meet his gaze as you waited for the elevator.

"Sure, thanks." His deep voice was so warming, and you wondered what it would sound like whispering in your ear. You shook your head to clear the thought and got in the lift to get to your floor. Keying in your pin code, the door chimed, and you let him into your apartment. You lived alone and so your place had some clutter about. You hung your coat and bag up, changed to slippers, then moved to clear the papers and pens off the couch. After moving the stuff into a more organized pile on the coffee table, you stood and turned to go to the kitchen, but instead ran into Felix's chest. He was wearing a grey turtleneck that was way tighter than you though it would be on him. His sleeves were already rolled up to his elbows and his hand moved to steady you when you stumbled in surprise at his proximity. Compared to other men, he wasn't very tall, but he was still quite a bit taller than you. When the hands that steadied you moved from your arms to your waist, you were pulled to him even closer. Your breath hitched and your hands instinctually gripped the fabric of his shirt at his shoulders. When your eyes met, he leaned in and as his lips hovered over yours, his deep voice rumbled through you.

"Can I?"

"Y-yes." Your hands moved to rest closer to his neck and he kissed you. This one was different than before. Last time was chaste and soft, but this was growing heated fast. Felix tilted his head more and licked at your bottom lip prompting you to open your mouth. You moaned softly as his tongue invaded your mouth and when he groaned back it was like thunder shook you. Reluctantly, you let him pull away so you both could take a breather.

"Was what you said true? You really can't cum?"

"M-most of the time." It was embarrassing to talk about it in front of everyone, but for some reason it seemed like Felix took it personally.

"Hm. If you let me, I might be able to help." He leaned down some to say this right into your ear, then he sucked on your ear lobe. You shuddered and tilted your head to let him get better access to your neck. He laid searing kisses along your skin, and you swallowed hard.

"O-okay." You were a bit reluctant since it hadn't worked well before. At the same time, he was turning you on way faster than anyone or anything else before. You were not blind, or deaf, he was incredibly attractive, and you would be stupid to say no. Felix's lips pulled into a smile against your throat and he sucked on that spot hard, his teeth digging in slightly. You moaned louder than you meant to, and he could feel your throat vibrate as you did. Not realizing he could pull you closer, when he did you felt him hard against your stomach. His lips moved from your neck, which now had at least three bruises on it, back to your mouth and he dominated the kiss, taking complete control. Finally, to gain more oxygen, he pulled away from you and your head was swimming. He could sense that you were dazed, so he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up, carrying you to your room. Setting you down at the end of your bed, he kneeled before you, the look on his face shocked you. You were expecting a fire there, lust, but it was so warm and soft, and you weren't sure how to react.

"I'm doing this because I like you so much. I hate that no one's made you feel good like you deserve. But at the same time…" The hand on your waist dug into your flesh and his expression sharpened, "I want to be able to say I'm the only one that can say he did. Easy." His confession made your walls clench around nothing.

"Will you let me?" Felix asked.

"Of…of course. I like you too-" He cut you off with another devouring kiss and his hands wandered under your sweater and helped you take it off. If you had known this was going to happen, you wouldn't have worn such a plain set of underwear. As the make-out session continued he also removed your socks and pants and he finally pulled back to take his own clothes off. You watched with rapt attention as his turtleneck came off, and…damn. Felix was way more ripped than you thought he would be. Not quite to the level of Chan or Changbin…You were even more enthralled as he took his belt off and undid his jeans to let them fall. His hard cock was straining against the black fabric of his tight briefs, but he left them on as he kneeled before you again. He stood as high as he could on his knees, making him eye level with you.

"Can I?" He reached around your back, and you nodded so he could unhook your plain nude bra. As he took it off, he gently bumped his forehead against yours and flashed a smile.

"You're so pretty." He cooed and you huffed, looking away in embarrassment.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black." You mumbled and he giggled. Felix laid a soft kiss on your lips then began to move down. To your neck, collarbone, sternum, then down your right breast where he latched his mouth around your nipple. You exhaled and let him do what he wanted. He didn't garner much of a reaction, but it felt better than it normally did. He hummed in thought and then he laved his tongue around the peak of your breast, then his teeth slightly dug in, and you gasped. The corners of his mouth pulled into a smile, and he sucked hard on your nipple again and your skin tingled. Goosebumps rose on your arms, and he pulled away with a pop and moved to do the same to the other side. Your breathing was getting a bit heavier and as he pulled away from your chest, he pressed his hand on your sternum, telling you to lay back. You did so and as you did; he straight up bit your left breast on the swell of the flesh. This pulled a surprised moan from you, and he smirked, pulling back.

"You left a mark!" You scoffed and he laughed, "You're going to end up with a lot more, love." You gaped at him and before you could answer, his mouth was back on you, kissing over your ribs. You sighed and he moved down to your belly button, then licked a path up to under your breasts. His actions heated your skin, and he moved back down to the waistband of your panties.

"You okay with this?" His fingers had slipped under the fabric to run along your butt, his face close to your covered pussy. He could smell your arousal already and couldn't wait to bury his tongue inside you.

"Yes. How about I tell you if I'm not and you just do whatever you want." You finally told him. You loved that he asked and made sure, but you just wanted him to keep going.

"Whatever I want?" He whispered to himself, and his intense gaze met yours.

"Are you sure, love?"

"Y-yes." You felt like a small furry creature about to be devoured by a tiger.

"Hm." He smirked and his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, dragging you to the end of the bed. Felix pressed his face into your covered cunt and licked at your clit through the fabric. You twitched a bit, but not enough for his liking. He clicked his tongue and instead of pulling your panties off, he tore them off. The side hem was fraying a bit and it allowed him to rip the fabric and he tossed the remnant away. You would have complained if it was a nicer pair. The display of strength was incredibly attractive. Once again, Felix's hands gripped your ass, hauling you closer and immediately shoved his tongue into your cunt. You exhaled harshly, laying back. It was if he was a man lost in the desert and you an oasis. He was practically drinking from you, devouring you. His nose bumped your clit as his tongue reached as deep as he could get it. You grunted slightly, surprised at how good it felt. He noticed that every time the tip of his nose hit your button that you flinched very slightly. Removing his face from between your legs for a moment, he took his thumbs and spread you open, and you squealed. It was embarrassing, but you didn't say anything, so he kept going, smirking as you covered your face. Licking another stripe from your core to your clit, he sealed his lips around the little bud and sucked as hard as he could. Your hips jumped slightly, and your breathing picked up, but it wasn't enough yet. Furrowing his brow, he pulled back again, tipping his head. If he wasn't doing what he was it would have been rather cute. He had one more trick up his sleeve. He took his thumb once again and rubbed a circle over your clit to see how you reacted. Glancing up he pushed harder against it to fully expose it, then he leaned forward to suck again. It was a stronger feeling than before and it made your hips jump again but then he did something unexpected, he placed your clit between his teeth and bit down a bit.

"Fuck!" You twitched hard, he wrapped his arm around your hips to hold them down, then he sucked again and gave another little nibble.

"F-Felix-" You gasped, and you were getting close. It was a different feeling than even the few times before. As he abused your poor little clit, he quickly inserted two fingers in your rapidly wetting cunt. This made you gasp again, and he could feel how tight you would be, but he was figuring out you needed a little bit of pain. Once more, he nibbled down, and at the same time he crooked his fingers up hard against your sweet spot and you fell apart. You saw white, you had never felt anything to that extent before. You had slammed your hand over your mouth, but he could still hear you nearly scream out a moan and he smiled cockily; your pussy walls clenched hard around his fingers and cum spurted out of your cunt. He held your hips down, feeling the muscles twitch and spasm. It seemed like it lasted forever and when you finally came down, you were panting hard. He kneeled straighter, pulling his fingers out of you, and noted that you had draped your arm over your eyes, and he couldn't tell if there were tears or sweat flowing down your cheeks. As he stood, Felix licked his fingers clean, and he kneeled over you some and pried your arm from your face. You looked dazed, and he still couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears.

"You did so good, love." He stroked the hairs back that were stuck to your forehead.

"How the actual fuck did you do that?" You gaped and he guffawed.

"It seems you like it to hurt a bit?"

"Hurt? It didn’t?" You seemed genuinely confused. Were you really that insensitive? With how tight your cunt was around his fingers he thought for sure it would have stung a bit. Most of the time getting bit somewhere that tender would hurt some even if it felt good.

"Interesting…" He thought for a second then looked back down at you.

"Do you wanna keep going?" Felix brushed a drop of the moisture from your cheek and you glanced at him.

"Why wouldn't I?" He huffed at that.

"You look like you just ran a marathon."

"Felix, if you can make me come, I'm going to let you do it as many times as possible." You deadpanned and his shocked expression softened, and he hummed. He bent over and kissed your forehead gently. His hand grabbed yours and he brought your knuckles to his lips so he could press another kiss there.

"(Y/N), I just want you to know, that I really like you, and I want to just hold you and love you all night." He admitted and your heart began to thud.

"But I think what you need is to be fucked senseless." His voice deepened even further, and his gaze sharpened. Your heart raced even more, and it seemed he was waiting for permission.

"Oh, god, please." You said quickly and he chuckled.

"Scoot up." He kissed your hand once more then let go and he got off the bed, letting you do as he requested. He went and turned your lamp on and shut the big overhead light off. He came over as you pulled your nightstand drawer open to make sure you did have condoms and that they weren't expired.

"What's this?" He had stopped next to you as you grabbed the box and his hand reached in a grabbed something else.

"Oh, uh-" Before you could answer he opened the box. He knew what it was before he asked. Inside there was a series of sex toys and it seemed none of them could do the trick. Bullet vibrator, one looked like a rose with suction, there was a rabbit vibrator, but the one that shocked him the most was the butt plug. It vibrated too and the plastic still hadn't been taken off of the box.

"Woah." He teased, pulling it out and you groaned.

"Haven't tried it?"

"I…Nothing else worked so I figured it was worth a try but I got nervous…"

"Hmm." He was thinking something, and you weren't sure you liked the look on his face.

"Another time." He shook his head and dropped it back in the box and put it in the drawer again and took the condom box from you.

"Hm." He hummed again and you shot him a look.

"What?"

"Have you tried anything with like ribbing or whatever?"

"Yes…didn't do jack. Even did the ones with like warming lube and stuff."

"…I have an idea but only if you're okay with it?"

"What?"

"I know it’s good to be double sure, but you're on the pill, yeah?"

"Yes."

"It seems you have trouble feeling stuff there, you would probably feel more without this." He rattled the box. He had a point, the only reason you used both was for security.

"We can get the morning after thing if you want-"

"That's fine." He seemed to know what he was doing, and you weren't overly worried about it.

"You sure?"

"Yes, Felix." You assured and he nodded, dropping the box back into the drawer, "They're the wrong size anyway." He muttered that to himself, but you caught it. Closing the drawer, he crawled back onto the bed and kneeled at your feet, then cast you a look. You nodded and he pulled your knees apart and for some reason it was still embarrassing even though his tongue had literally been inside you. You were neither a virgin nor a prude, but for some reason, since it was Felix, it felt different.

"Relax, love." He smiled, pressing his lips to yours again and his tongue slipped into your mouth. You whined when he pulled back and he chuckled, then maneuvered and removed his underwear and threw them somewhere.

"Fuck." You whined and you wanted him in your mouth.

"This is about you, love, not me." He pinched your nose, able to tell what you were thinking from the expression on your face.

"Fine." You pouted and his fingers went back to your cunt and gathered the wetness there and you watched as he stroked himself to get ready. What the fuck was he fed that despite his small size his cock was that big? Whatever it was also probably made his voice as deep as it was as well.

"Ready? I'm going to be rough with you." He warned, his sharp gaze rehardened, the softness still there underneath.

"Please." You let him just grab you, he spread your legs open wide, a slight burn in your hamstrings. There was very little time between the head of his cock meeting your cunt and him burying all the way to the hilt. It took your breath away and he grunted at how tight your hot core felt around him. He had honestly never had sex without a condom before either. After being inside your wet heat with no barrier, he didn't think he could ever do anything but, especially since he planned on being with you longer than he consciously realized. You were shivering at the sensation, his hot flesh searing through you, spreading you open so much so instantly. It stung some but it felt better than any other time and you weren't sure if it was because he was fucking you raw or that he was that big. You didn't even want to know how much bigger Chan supposedly was. He contemplated letting you get used to him, but Felix was losing control fast, and it seemed like you liked it rough. His hands on your thighs spreading them open gripped the flesh, easily swinging your legs up so he folded you in half, your knees at your ears.

"Hold on, love." Using his dancing skills, he snapped his hips as hard as he could, and your next orgasm hit you. If you whited out before, you practically blacked out that time. It was like water rushed over your head, your rapid pulse thudding in your ears, your blood audibly racing. He grunted and you could barely hear it through the ringing in your ears and he dug his fingers hard into the flesh of your thighs to hold back his own orgasm. Your walls were hugging his cock so tight, and you were practically gushing around him. He hoped that he had pulled some kind of seal off of you, and that he could get you to fall apart over and over and over. He wanted to be the one that could say he fucked you stupid and that no one could ever finish you simply because they weren't him. His ego shot through the roof, and he wanted to ruin you. When he first thought of going through with this, the plan was to show you how much he loved you, what you meant to him. But he had no idea what you liked and what would finally get you off. If you needed rough, he would do it. Looping his thoughts to keep distracted from the vice of your cunt, he finally felt you relax, and you nearly went boneless, your legs in his grip losing all strength. You were heaving for air again, not sure which way was up or down, how old you were, or even your own name. All you could think of was Felix.

"No!" You yiped as he pulled out, but he rolled you over onto your stomach, hauled your hips up, your face buried in the pillow and he buried his cock back into your needy pussy, making you white knuckled the sheets. He began a truly relentless pace, and it was the best thing anyone had ever done to you.

"You like my cock, love?"

"Fuck, yes!" You managed to get out, each thrust made you silently scream, forming words became nearly impossible. Maybe the fact that he got you to orgasm allowed you to be more sensitive; then maybe because you had tried for so hard for so long with no success, your body could finally let go. Felix had the key to not only your heart, it seemed, but your cunt as well.

Leaning forward, he gripped the frame of your bed for leverage and kept his thrusts just as hard but extremely shallow. The fat head of his cock beat against your back walls so hard that you were sure they would forever be molded to only him. You felt another climax rising and your own hands scrambled to grip the wooden rods of your bed frame as well.

"F-Felix!" You managed to get out and you watched one of his hands leave the frame above you, and he smacked your right ass cheek and upper thigh hard, and you fell over the edge again. This time, he couldn't hold back either, and he fucked as deep into you as he could and filled your womb with his cum. That sensation made your climax flare to max again even though it had begun to dissipate, and your fluttering canal helped him ride out his own orgasm. You thanked the Lord birth control existed because you never wanted him to cum anywhere but inside after that. As you both caught your breath, he slowly pulled out of you and the adrenaline left you and now you were sore. Your clit, your pussy, where he had smacked you, everything. You didn't think you would be able to walk tomorrow. When he had fully withdrew, your hips slumped down and you flopped flat onto the bed, not able to move.

"Hold on, love." He leaned over you and kissed your hot cheek, covered in tears from the intensity of what he just reeked on you. You felt him wipe your used cunt off with a towel and you whined when he moved you to pull the blanket out from under you. He made a note to remove the comforter before fucking you on the bed again, because he sure was planning on doing it again.

"You're fine, pretty girl." He chuckled and crawled into bed with you. He shut the lamp off and the room was cast in shadow before your eyes got used to the dull light of the streetlights behind the curtain. Getting settled, he saw you had laid on your side already, the only way you could fall asleep. Smiling he curled around you, wiggling his arm under your head and wrapped his other around your middle. He rested his hand on your tummy, holding you close. He had to be careful, your cute little butt pressed against his now-covered groin was enough on its own to get him riled back up. The arm under your head bent so his hand could rest on your forehead, and he kissed the back of your head.

"Goodnight, love." Felix hugged you as close as possible, loving being your big spoon.

"I won’t be able to walk tomorrow." You mumbled and buried his nose in your hair and smiled smugly.

"If you can I won’t have done my job right."

"Thank you, 'Lix."

"Of course, sweet." Another kiss to your head.

"Go to sleep. I'll take care of you tomorrow. And every day after that you'll have me." His deep but quiet voice rumbled next to your ear, and you linked your fingers with his on the hand on your stomach.

"I'll have you always, Felix."

"Good, because you're stuck with me now."

-> Part 2 <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

[caxde]

bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you and Eddie have just become a couple, you meet hellfire club, Wayne finally meets you, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (6.8k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n: thank you guys for the support, and thanks to the lovely @criesinlies for her help and motivation, this one is for u babe <3 part1 part2 part 3 (they can be read seperatly)

“As you feel the air collapse in your lungs, I’m gonna need a constitution saving throw from you, Tayr.” Eddie explains, as his voice changes into that dramatic tone he always uses when he’s in the middle of a session, pointing at Mike who is stunned and on the verge of having a meltdown. 

“Wha-Whaddumean the air collapses in my lungs?” He asks frantically, as he shuffles through papers, trying to find something that will get him out of this, his die on his hand, rattling anxiously. 

“Counterspell!” Will screams, his hand on reaching for Eddie, he just scoffs. 

“It’s not a spell.” His voice remains calm, not stopping the visual contact he had going on, enjoying the menacing aura he had going on, something he didn’t get to do as often now that most of the stories and voices he could do were the ones for bedtime so Lua would fall asleep. 

He enjoyed looking at the chaos that ensued at the table, how they all were chatting amongst themselves, trying to find a solution, something useful so Mike’s character wouldn't die. 

Eddie hears the soft knocks on the door, his eyebrows raise a bit as he looks over at the trailer. The kids were around the table, buried deep with character sheets and spell cards, Max and El were on the living room floor drawing and colouring with Lua, Steve and Robin weren’t supposed to come pick them up for another forty minutes and uncle Wayne had yet to come back from work. 

He made his way to the front door, excusing himself from his usual DM spot, Dustin nodding in understanding, a curious look on his face as he looked over at him, and who could be behind the door. 

You had left work a bit earlier, for once they actually respected your work hours, and understood that if you started your shift at ten in the morning, you shouldn’t stay past six in the afternoon. So for once, you were back in the trailer park beforehalf past, and lucky for you, you caught some pastries they wanted to throw out, they said they were too old to sell, but you had baked them yesterday night, so you knew for a fact the blueberry muffins that where Lua’s favourite and the Cinnamon rolls that Eddie liked were good to take. 

So, there you were, your work clothes still on, and a little cardboard box in your hands. 

You looked up at him, as soon as he opened the door and his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, your lips were already curving upwards as you made eye contact with him. His eyes melting a bit at the sight of you, he made a step back, letting you in. 

You didn’t really have any reason to be alert, you were just happy to see him, and excited to do so, even if the nerves of the dinner you had in a couple hours were starting to manifest in your body, you paid them no mind. Instead, you pointed your feet up, the distance between both of your bodies closing, a small peck left on his lips from yours. He smiled as he always does when you kiss him. 

You realised right there that something strange was going on, when the usual noise that rummaged through his trailer was gone. Even worse, the noise you had heard from the other side of the door had ceased, you pulled away, not too far for that matter, your body still a breath away from his, his hand resting on your waist. 

“Got out of work earlier, they gave me some sweets… I thought maybe Lua..” That’s when you realised that he wasn’t exactly alone. 

There was a group of kids sitting around a table, their eyes about to pop out of their heads, mouths opened in shock, whilst Lua was in the company of two girls. You recognized the red head, Max lived a couple trailers down from you, she always had some kind words to say about your outfit, and you had helped her a couple of times when her mom was away and her washing machine was making the same funny sound as yours did. 

She was the one that seemed more shocked out of them all, standing up in one swift movement as Lua clocked that you were there. Her usual gigle as a greeting as she started walking clumsily to your feet, her arms opened for you to hug her. Eddie gave you the same nod he always did, as he took a step further from you and took the little box with sweets out of your hands. It always happened when Lua wanted attention from you, you looked over at Eddie a ‘is this okay? can i hold her?’ look he had become used to, and that he absolutely adored. 

“Princess!” Lua cheered as she wrapped her arms lazily on the back of your neck, Eddie had told you about the whole princess accident, and you had become somehow warmed up about the nickname that she had gifted you. You pulled her in a warm hug. 

“Hi dude, you doing okay?” You asked, your voice higher in pitch as it always did when you talked to her. 

“Yeah. Friends over!” She pointed out to the two girls that remained silent on the floor, her mouth still slightly opened. 

“Eddie you rat!” Max broke the silence, the cascade of comments starting to flow as the kids were coming out of shock. “I live right next to you, how did I not know!” She continued, you looked at her, a bit afraid of her if you were being honest. Her hard tone contradicts with her wide smile. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” One of the boys asked from the table, his tan skin made his blue shirt pop, just as much as his question did. Making you both blush in a similar way, looking at each other, Lua looking between the both of you, still on your arms. 

“She’s dada’s princess.” She explains, as best as she could, her sweet words making you chuckle, as Eddie took her from your arms, pulling her in a soft embrace. 

“Yes, and she got you a snack, d’you want some?” Eddie rattled the box, and Lua’s eyes widened as she cheered. 

The chattering continued as you sort of stood in the middle of the room, not sure where to go to, or what to do now. 

“How did he get you to agree to go out with him?” A boy with curly hair half covered with a cap that had some writing you couldn’t quite read spoke, an incredulous tone evident by the way his face looked, a raised eyebrow following his question. 

“It wasn’t that hard, really… he just… asked?” You could hear Eddie laughing from the kitchen, the sound of it making your shoulders relax, you weren’t used to that much attention. 

“Unbelievable, I should have been asking Eddie the Freak Munson for girl advice, not King Steve… who would have known.” The same boy replayed, you caught the same dramatic voice and flare you had caught on Eddie a few times, it made you chuckle. 

“Eddie the Freak?” You questioned, more to yourself than to anyone else, as you took a step closer to the table.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a big nerd, even bigger when he was in High School.” Max was the one talking now, teasing him as Eddie walked out the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. 

Lua was walking with a plastic plate on her hand, half of the muffin on it. She was trying really carefully to not drop it, concentrating on finding her way to the couch. 

“Hey, enough teasing the one that’s housing you, ‘kay?” That was an expression you still haven’t seen or heard in Eddie. His head tilted to the left, his hair falling a bit in front of his face, his eyes wider before he closed them a bit, his lips pressing against each other. Eddie was embarrassed, and didn’t really know how to manage it. 

“Yeah, we’re literally in the middle of a campaign.” The boy with the black hair and arched nose points out frantically gesturing at the board on top of the table. “I might be dying!” Urgency comes back into his voice, and you can see the way Eddie tries to mask a laugh, his hand hiding his smile, only growing when he makes eye contact with you. 

“Well, at least someone kisses her girlfriend.” The girl that was beside Max and had been quiet spoke out, a spec of hurt in her voice. Her words made the boy that was somehow about to die shake his head in disbelief at her, while Max and the two other boys that had spoken chuckle. The boy that hadn’t spoken yet looked at the dying boy longley. 

Eddie enjoyed the teasing when it wasn’t focused on him, so he let out a chuckle as soon as she heard how El teased Mike back for not being as affectionate as he was. Then again, Eddie was aware that he was highly affectionate, and even now, not being next to you, or holding your hand was a weird feeling now that he could call you his girlfriend. 

Maybe that’s why he uses the small moment where they were chuckling and quietly teasing Mike to walk over you, his hand finally resting on the small of your back, where it fits in a perfect way, the small touch reassuring you in a way you didn’t think possible. Your head spins to look at him, his eyes half closed when they meet yours, he can’t help but leave a small kiss on your forehead. And you can’t help but rest your head on his chest as soon as he breaks the tiny kiss. 

“Okay, roll call or they won’t stop looking at us weird.” Eddie half jokes as he speaks up, you just enjoy the way his chest vibrates when he talks, for a moment you let yourself daydreaming of the day you get to sleep with him as close as you were now. “You know Max.” You nod as the red haired girl looks up at you again, before sitting down back on the floor. “That’s El” The one that had teased the other boy about kissing mouthed a silent hi, her eyebrows slightly raised “She also goes by Jane.” Eddie turns to your ear, whispering it to you. 

“Dustin, Henderson. Though right now I’m Nog.” The boy with the curled covered hair spoke next, he seemed excited to meet you, his smile was contagious. 

“Uh… Okay?” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant with right now, and you had a habit of not masking your emotions, so your face could be read like a poem, your eyebrows raised in misunderstanding and confusion. 

“She doesn’t know about D&D?” The boy that was supposedly dying erupted again, and you heard Eddie audibly roll his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter.”The guy next to him talked, though he almost cut him off, frustration on his voice, the rest of the party scoffed and tried to hide a chuckle “I’m Will, or Will the Wise. He’s Mike, or Tayr in this case.” He pointed to them both, you nodded, trying hard to remember everyone’s names. 

“I’m Lucas or Sundar the Bold, also Max’s sometimes boyfriend.” He tries to charm the girl who just rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. Even if you clock a soft curving of her lips. 

You smile to yourself, trying to hold as much information as you can. 

“Do you also have a second name?” 

Eddie laughs, as he pushes a little hair away from his face, tucking it away nicely under his ear. 

“No, I uh… I’m the, uh… Dungeon Master.” 

“What’s-”

Luckily for Eddie, Steve walked in at that moment. Robin followed him closely. Giving him another moment of quietness and self reflection as they walked inside, observing the scene as they did.

He had never been embarrassed about playing, or anything of that matter, but for some stupid reason that he wasn’t sure of, he felt just that seeing you in his space when he was not expecting it. He wasn’t prepared, for you to see him actively nerding out, even worse, when the stakes at the table were as high. 

“I think we got here a bit early, Steve.” Robin pointed out, her voice doing that sing along tone that you found charming. Lua waved at them from the couch where she was still enjoying her little treat. The reason you were here after all. 

“Oh, shi-” Eddie glared down at him before he could finish the sentence, a quick nod to the little girl listening in. “You’re one to talk.” 

“You are!” Dustin halved screamed from his chair, an accusatory finger pointing at him. “You’re the one giving out girl advice, while Eddie somehow managed to find a respectfully hot girl to go out with him.” You can’t help but giggle at the way he said respectfully, his mouth enunciating every syllable of the word while he looked at you in an apologetic way. 

Eddie blushed harder, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. The vein on his neck grows larger every second. Unlucky for him, and due to the fact that he was far too distracted, he missed the look on your face when you caught that, the half second where the image of Eddie biting his lower lip trying to hide a cocky smile as his vein pulsed had made your thighs clench, and your eyes darken. 

“Henderson’s right, Steve” Robin added in her teasing tone, her words felt like they had an extra space written in between them. “That’s another point on the you suck table.” For some reason that you didn’t understand, that snarky comment made them all laugh, an inside joke you hope to understand someday. 

“I uh… should go back to my trailer.” You point to the opened door with your head, your hand now was somehow tangled with Eddie’s. 

“You can stay.” He pleas with a sweet soft voice, like honey to your ears. His eyes looking down at you, somehow becoming doe-like. 

“I would, but I need to make dinner for four.” You remind him as you wink. A lovesick smile appears on his lips once again, forgetting that he was surrounded by people that will tease him as soon as you’re gone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, come whenever.” 

He stands there for a moment, knowing full well that their friends are talking to him, teasing him relentlessly, but he doesn’t really care, he’s too focused on seeing the way your body moves, and how even your steps reflect how happy you feel. 

-

“I thought she was coming over here.” Wayne pointed out, standing against the bathroom door, looking over Eddie's shoulder, as he brushed out Lua’s recently clean hair. 

“She was, but she wanted to host, said she’d feel more comfortable.” Eddie explained, not really focusing on what he was saying, more centered in the job he was doing. He had an experience with curly hair, and knew just how much care it needed, and how much he hated detangling it when he himself was a kid. “I’ll be done in a second, bug.” He tried to reassure her, her hands pushing him away. 

“Right.” Eddie wasn’t expecting much words out of his uncle, but he was still a bit anxious, and he wasn’t really sure he knew why. “You should shower, I’ll change Lua.” He told him, as he grabbed Lua in a soft embrace. 

That’s when Eddie realised he had been anxiously brushing his daughter’s hair for the last fifteen minutes. 

And that he probably just needed a second, a moment or a minute just for himself. 

 Turns out, silence can also be an overwhelming sound. 

For Eddie, silence was the time his thoughts gained free raign on his brain.

Even if he tried to quiet them down, hot water hitting the back of his head as he takes his time washing his hair, he wasn’t sure he could do it. 

He was used to judgment. First it was him being a nerd, which evolved into freak, which ended with reckless. First he had been an outcast, then he had been the dangerous teen, now he was the young dad who barely finished high school. 

His problem -he realised as the water pressure hitted the knot that he had on his left shoulder- was that that had all happened before you met him. 

And he hadn’t told you a lot about that. Or about Hellfire and just how important and life saving it had been for him, despite it’s nerdy side, which was what you had only seen. 

He had a river of what if’s as he brushed his damp hair, putting leave in conditioner and drying it. 

He kept thinking. 

What if you seeing him with (ironically) even more kids had somehow pushed you away.

What if you knowing that he had been on the verge of expulsion made you reject him. 

What if you getting to actually know him made you wish you never had in the first place. 

Wayne knew what was going on, but he had realised through experience that the best he could do is just give him space, facilitate the tasks he had to do. So he left him his comfort black button up shirt he always wore when he wanted to feel better, his usual blue jeans under it. 

He had dressed Lua, with the hand-me-down clothes Jameson from three trailers up had given them a few months ago, a pastel baby blue dress she had a fuss about, until she realised it was actually comfortable. Wayne smiled to himself, remembering how Eddie used to do the same. 

Across the street, you were setting up the table. 

The meat cannelloni your grandma used to make for you -or your best attempt at them- where being covered in bechamel that you had just finished, the bottom of the pot that you had used was barely brown for once, a good sign, you thought. Maybe a bit too nutmeg, maybe not enough salt, but it drowns the cannelloni in a warm blanket, before you put some shredded cheese on top. 

Once they were in the oven, the whole trailer smelt like warmth. 

And you started fidgeting with the hem of your long sleeve. 

You checked again that the white wine was chilled, and that you had plenty of water and orange juice for Lua. 

You repainted your lips red, and checked that you didn’t have any mascara stains in your eyelids for the third time. 

You decided to set the table, soft music playing in the background. A tape you had had for a while, with Bowie, the Smiths and some songs you just knew the name of. As you placed the last fork, the familiar soft knock came from the door. A smile appearing in your lips as a response. 

Eddie’s breathing slowed down as soon as he locked eyes with you. His shoulders dropped a bit, his eyes softened, just by seeing you, the river of thoughts stopped. 

Wayne’s eyebrows raised -as soon as he saw the effect you had on his anxious nephew- but neither of you noticed. 

“You look nice.” You let out, your voice softer, kinder. 

“So do you.” He said back, his voice no longer shaking. Lua in his arms, reaching for you. 

“Hi dude!” Your pitch became higher, as you grabbed her for a quick hug, letting her on the floor so she could investigate as she loved to do. 

Eddie stepped a bit closer to you, leaving a kiss on the spot he liked so much, right where your right temple met your hairline, before introducing you to Wayne. 

“It’s a pleasure.” You tell him, a firm shake of hands proceeds your words, a kind smile in his lips as his eyes are framed by smile lines. 

“I’m sure it’s all mine.” He replays, you like how he drags every word, his accent being so different form the one Eddie has. “It smells heavenly.” 

“Grandma’s recipe.” You tell him, as you move to the table. 

Eddie sees that you had fixed a chair with a couple of your hard pillows, so Lua could actually be seated on her own chair, with you. For some stupid reason, it warmed his heart. He hadn’t asked you to, assuming that she’d just be in his lap once again, but seeing that you had taken the effort, made him see -even if he thought it before- just how much you do care. 

Wayne caught it, the way Eddie’s smirk appeared as he looked at the chair, the small plastic plate and utensils you had set up for her. Water and orange juice. Wayne was starting to like you already, and he had barely talked to you. 

Everyone seemed to like the food, a soft wow escaped Wayne’s lips when non one was looking, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. Lua had wanted to try them as soon as they were set up on the table, Eddie telling her as he cut them up in a soft voice that they were too hot, she didn’t care. She grabbed the end of the fork Eddie had, trying to take a bite. 

“Do you really wanna burn your mouth?” He asked, even if he was a bit overwhelmed, his tone stayed sweet, calm. She nodded, only looking at the food. He let her take a small bite, which she did eat, chewing with her mouth opened. “I told you.” Eddie gave her a look that you found endearing. His head tilted ever so slightly to the right, his eyes opened a bit too much nodding as he did so, a soft giggle escaped your lips. He couldn’t help his from curling as soon as he heard you. 

“Yummy” Is all she said, and it made your eyes squint a bit, your smile growing bigger. Eddie’s voice stopped for a second as he saw you, and how proud you looked. 

“You like it?” Eddie could swear your eyes shined when you asked, even a bit brighter when you saw Lua nodding. 

Wayne realised something in that moment, the small bubble that you seemed to be in. 

From where he was, it already looked like you belonged. Like you always had. You seemed to understand Eddie just as good as he was, maybe even better. 

Wayne did try to get to know you, asking you things every time he felt like he had an opportunity. He was always kind, and gave you a smile when you answered. 

The thing that you found out that Wayne and Eddie shared was how much they listened, and remembered. 

“How come you ended up in Hawkins?” 

“They lied to her.” Eddie replayed before you could, food still in your mouth. 

“Whaddumean?” Wayne responded in shock, his eyes staring at you, wanting you to answer. 

“I uh… I got a call about a teaching spot that was supposedly open, in the High School, but uh… they forgot to add that it wouldn’t actually be available for another six months so… I’m in the cafe, saving up… you know” You felt like you were overexplaining yourself, or that you were coming across as pitiful, but as soon as you felt Eddie's hand on your thigh, a small squeeze on it, you knew you were going to be okay. That you were doing okay. 

Wayne looked over at Eddie, a smirk appearing on his lips, that Eddie knew the meaning of, and for once he was welcome you didn’t. It said, you also want to get out of here. Eddie couldn’t unpack that, not now. 

“Well, I’ve heard you’ve already met some of your future students.” He said instead, taking a sip of the white wine you had poured for him. 

“Have I?” 

“Didn’t your little fan club come?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie, who had gone quieter. Not only was he not talking, but he had that shyness that he had grown to hide coming out, right there in the open. 

“Fan club?” You asked back, giving him a little look. He seemed lost, present, but still not entirely there. 

“Hellfire, we uh… play a game together.” 

“I didn’t know you had more kids beside Lua.” Even if you were smiling sincerely, even if he knew you were teasing him, he still gave you an apologetic smile, not really looking at you but at Wayne, begging him to stop. 

Wayne understands, so he waits a few seconds for the music that had been softly playing to stop, he wipes his mouth with the napkin as he nods at his nephew. 

“I should get Lua to bed.” He excuses himself, as he walks over to her. Lua looked up at him with a puzzled look in her eyes, her head swinging between his dad and his uncle. “Let’s go to bed, Lu.” It’s the first time that you hear him being sweet, almost like honey. 

Lua stands up on her own, her arms up in the air, waiting to be lift up by him. He waves you goodbye in sync with Wayne as he walks out the door. 

You stand up. 

You don’t really know what you have done to make Eddie quiet, but you give him space, as you clear the table, and you catch him playing with his index finger, a repetitive movement that lets you know he’s got something bugging him in his mind. 

You let him stay in the chair while water runs down your hands. Calming yourself whilst you come out with the right words. 

“Are you okay?” You end up asking the most basic question, but the only one you can actually think of. He finally looks up at you, and in doing so he realises due to the iron taste in his mouth that he had been biting his lower lip a bit too hard. 

“Yeah, just… Sorry.” He tried to brush it off, finally standing up, walking to the kitchen. His hands hidden deep in the back pockets of his jeans.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He knows that took courage out of you to ask, you start cleaning the plates, the sponge bubbling up as you squeezed it. 

“Do you want me to dry?” He asks back, stepping closer to you, nodding to your previous question, looking for a way to be close to you. 

“Sure.” You step to the left, letting him a bit of space for him to fit, his waits hitting his, a comforting touch that makes his brain slow down once more. “Did I do something? While we were eating?” You try to ask, not sure why he went quiet all of a sudden. Not sure why Wayne had vanished and let you two alone, or why he nodded at Eddie before doing so. 

“No, you were amazing. I can tell Wayne already likes you.” He admits, drying the first plate, his voice was shaking a bit in anticipation about the conversation he knew you were about to have. “It’s just… I haven’t been embarrassed about Hellfire in like, ever. And suddenly the fear that you might I dunno, think it’s dumb, or that you wouldn’t like me being like, this huge nerd, that hangs out with Highschoolers while you are supposed to be a teacher and I…” He was talking faster and faster, his words were starting to fuse together, catching up to the speed in which his brain was thinking about it all. 

You turn the faucet off, paying him full attention. He catches that in the midst of his rumbling. His eyes lock with yours, as nervous tears make his eyes crystallize. 

“Shit I barely graduated. I hated school, I was a freak who liked to play or still likes rather, who tried to defend anyone even if I got beat up or called shitty things and then I got a kid and shit… You have been nothing but nice and you literally are like a I dunno, a princess. Kind and all that shit I don’t… I don’t really deserve it.” 

You shake your head as he talks, wanting to interrupt but not really being able to. You just take his hand, a soft touch that lets him know he’s being heard. 

“Moon.” He can’t help but look at the way your lips move when you call him by the sweetest nickname he had ever been called, only made better by your voice. Your thumb tracing drabbles on the back of his hand. “I like that you’re a nerd.” He can feel the sincerity of your voice, only made more evident by the smile that painted your lips. “I like it because I like you.” You tell him, your eyes looking at the way his lips part, his head shaking in embarrassment. “I don’t care if you play whatever game, or hang out with whoever, because that makes you who you are. And that’s who I like.” 

“Idiot.” It’s the only thing he can manage to say back, with the stupidest widest smile you had seen from him. 

“Hopefully yours.” You tease back, turning back to keep cleaning more dishes. 

He just stands there, mesmerized by you, and the way that you treat him, how you make him feel. He just gives in the urge, his arms wrapping to your waist, his chest hitting your back. You gave in a bit, pushing into him, melting in his arms. 

He took the opportunity to kiss your neck, right where it made your skin tingle, goosebumps being sent through your body. He kisses the same spot again after he hears a giggle turning into a soft moan. 

You turn to him, finally giving him a decent kiss. 

His lips intertwined with yours, the softness contradicted with the underlining neediness of his touch, both of you smiling through the kiss, his hands in the small of your waist, pulling you in closer, your hands lost in his hair, tugging it in a way he thought was heavenly. 

“Yeah, hopefully mine.” He finally responded, once he broke off the kiss, his forehead still touching yours, his hands tracing circles on your skin, under your shirt. You couldn’t stop playing with the ends of his hair. 

You stayed a bit longer like that, soft caress left on your body, as you just held each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another. 

-

He had come over, right when you were ending your shift, panic in his eyes. He was stressed, you could tell that much, switching his order from regular to decaf. He told you, that he had just been called to cover a late shift, and that he didn’t know if he could take Lua with him, because it would be too late, that Wayne had the night shift and wouldn’t be home until 6 in the morning, how much he just needed some reassurance, maybe a little kiss -he couldn’t stop teasing, not even if he tried, not even when he was panicking- but he wasn’t expecting your response to all of this. 

“I could go over and watch her.” 

You saw how his thoughts stopped for a moment, and how the warmth he felt in his heart after he heard your words spread through his cheeks. He asked if you were sure, if you actually didn’t mind. He reminded you that you didn’t have to do it, that it wasn’t your responsibility nor did he want to impose you with something you weren’t ready for. 

“I’d love to spend some time with her. Maybe she’ll even like me more than you in the end.”

He chuckled, added a no way and thanked you a bit too much, finalizing it all with a quick kiss before he headed out, already late for his shift. 

A to go cup in his hand.

Wayne had also thanked you profusely, even if he was a man of no words, he gave you a smile and a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Lua was sitting down on the couch, mumbling along to the words to her favourite princess movie, while she swanged her hand around, holding on tightly to her chocolate chip cookie. 

You sat down next to her, she squeezed in closer to you. 

“You really like Aurora, don’t you?” Your voice was always higher in pitch when you talked to her, slower, softer. You thought that maybe you did that, in a way, because if someone had been kinder to you when you were little, maybe things would have been easier. 

“She’s the best.” She answered, as if it was painfully obvious. “She lives in the woods, like me!” She pointed out, as soon as the little cottage came on the screen. 

“She does.” 

“And Dada says I’m special like her.” You noticed how her eyes shined when she talked about Eddie, the care and love he had for her reciprocating in the way she talked. 

“You are.” You reassured her, brushing her hair with your fingers, she cuddled with you, a smile on her face. 

-

Three fast knocks on the door made you startled. Lua had just gone to bed, and you were a bit busy cleaning the mess you ended up doing. Thankfully, you were used to cleaning after yourself, white papers filled with doodles, and teddies laid on the floor next to the couch. You looked at the clock, and you saw that Eddie still had a while to come home, and he wouldn’t knock, he would just barge in. So with an unsure pace, you made your way to the trailer door, opening it as the little boy was screaming Eddie’s name. 

“Oh, hi.” He mumbled, as soon as he saw you. 

“Hi. You’re… Dustin?” He took a quick look at you, scanning the scene before he dared to say anything else, not really understanding why you opened the door and not his friend who actually lived there. 

“Uh, yeah. We met.” He was measuring his words, still a bit unsure as to what he was supposed to do now. “Where’s Eddie?”

“D’you wanna come in?” You both had asked the questions at the same time, so when he nodded, you just stepped to the side so he could come in. You noticed the backpack he had glued to his back, his straps tighter so the weight wouldn’t bother him. “What do you got there?” You pointed at the heavy back with your finger, a curious tone in your voice that made him grab it, before putting it on the table. 

“Oh, I was supposed to meet Eddie.” He said, before seeing you nod, wanting to know more, as you sat down. He followed your movements, as he opened the bag. “He left me some of his D&D stuff, and he was supposed to help me with some things I wanted to add to my first campaign.” He started yapping, you saw that just as Eddie, he talked faster when he was excited about a topic. 

“That’s the game you were playing the other day?” You ask sincerely, he nods, as he starts to fill the table with books, little figurines, papers that had scribbling with two different handwriting, sketches… You got lost into all of it for a second, Dustin watching at the way you seemed to analyze it all. “Could you… like, teach me stuff about it?” 

“Why?” Dustin scrunched his nose, not really following you, his eyebrows almost meeting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Eddie really likes this game, and he talks about it, and I don’t always follow, but I don’t wanna bother him with too many questions so…” 

Dustin's wide smile was all the confirmation you needed. 

You were starting to get it, you had races, and classes and the little numbers on the paper sheets where abilities, that you decided rolling weird sided dice. 

You were in to deep, trying to understand and following him closely, as he flipped through the pages of the big dense book he had between the both of you. 

Maybe that’s why neither of you heard him when he walked in. 

He was about to talk, his mouth remained open, but as soon as he saw you both, he stayed there. His body against the door frame, his arms crossed above his chest as he just looked, with the fondest stupidest smile on his lips as he saw just how much interest you had in whatever Dustin was talking to you about. 

“So you can mix and match any classes and races?” You ask, Eddie's heart stops for a moment, he hadn’t realised you were talking about his game. 

“Yeah, I mean if you were to play a bard which was…?” Dustin was questioning you, seeing if you remembered what he had just spent some time trying to explain to you. 

“An unhinged rockstar that likes to tell stories.” 

“So basically Eddie.” Dustin made the same joke again, making you giggle, whilst Eddie tried to hide his chuckle, wanting to know what you’d say without you knowing he was there. 

“That’s my man.” You teased back, in a singing tone that made Dustin laugh as he looked back down at the book. 

“Yeah, so, if you made your Bard a Half-Elf, it would automatically get a +2 to charisma, which is extremely useful to them.” He cheered, you nodded. You knew that Dustin was feeling a bit proud, as he was explaining these things to you. 

“And they also get a +1 stat boost to other abilities.” Eddie finally chirped in, making his presence known. 

He smiled widely, as he walked over to you. His arms falling to his side, his heart beating faster as if it were eager to finally be near yours. 

“Hi.” You said, voice barely above a whisper as he got closer.

“Hi.” He answered, closing the distance between your lips with a quick peck. 

Dustin was happy, seeing the way Eddie melted when you were close, he liked seeing his friend act like that. All soft, as opposed to the thought persona he had to give out when he was still in school, back when they met each other. 

“Dustin was helping me understand your game.” You told him, eyes shining up at him. “But you’re the one he wants to ask stuff to, so… I’ll head home. See you soon Henderson.” You told the cap wearing boy, with a soft squeeze to his shoulder, he waved bye to you, looking as Eddie walked you to the door. “Lua’s been asleep for a while, so don’t worry about that.” You told him, getting a bit lost into him, which you were starting to realise you had no control over, when his eyes looked like chocolate pools under the moonlight. 

“Have I told you how amazing you are?” He told you, pushing a small flock of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with his thumb a bit longer than he really needed to. 

You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes not letting go from his stare. You bite your lower lip, a bit from shame, a bit from childish excitement over kind words. He lowered his thumb, pulling your lip down so you wouldn’t bite it. 

The delicate move, the roughness of his callused finger contradicting with the softness of it all, sends your body into overdrive. 

Goosebumps not only filled your body, but his too. He felt it just as much as you need, the spark, the electricity, the fire. It screamed i need you, though sometimes, it seemed like it was screaming i love you, or rather i could love you if you let me. 

“Why?” Is the only thing you could gather to ask, your voice shaking a bit from want, or need. Eddie felt like your voice was a velvety hug on his skin. 

“Just, you really are.” 

He kissed you. His thumb tilted your jaw upwards so he could reach your lips, even if it was a simple movement, it still made your head a bit dizzy. You took a step closer to him, amidst the kiss, so your waist would touch his, so you could get your hands on the back of his neck, burying them in his hair. Your tongues touch, and you feel out of breath. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling, he was too happy, and it was all thanks to you. 

“Goodnight Moon.” You whispered into his ear, finally pulling away. 

“Goodnight Princess.” 

He could have stayed there, watching you leave forever, if it weren’t for Dustin’s soft teasing. A stream of oh lover boy! that came from inside the trailer, it couldn’t even bother him, not even a little bit. 

Because deep down he knew, he was falling deep in love with you. 

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

-

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf @guineveresghost @saramelaniemoon

part 4 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

[disneyprincemuke]

they ask, "do you have a man?"

alternatively: can’t be discreet to save anyone’s life

in which everyone is curious why the grid princess is still single despite instagram posts from them seem to be giving out another narrative

(series masterlist)

logansargeant posted on their story!

alexalbon ur never beating the dating allegations if u keep posting shit like this i fear

kidy/n omg i look so slay in that dress

logansargeant ugh you’re so right bb

lilymhe i need to know where she got this i fear 😔

logansargeant she said she will text you like a true girls girl ✊🏼

lilymhe ugh im in love with her

user1 gonna need you guys to announce you’re dating actually

user2 posting this and denying every dating allegation is actually crazy

user3 what if i jump in front of a moving train???

user4 such a boyfriend coded story from someone who’s not her boyfriend

kidy/n posted on their story!

oscarpiastri HAVING FUN WHILE I AM IN MELBOURNE I SEE.

kidy/n is there ever a day u wake up n ur not an outright hater?

oscarpiastri no cause you guys are hanging out without so that really fuels my ability to hate

kidy/n u got ur own gf mate, spend time with her?? >:(

oscarpiastri SHE IS LITERALLY WITH YOU RN TAKING THIS PICTURE

sebastianvettel this doesn’t scream “not dating” to the rest of the world btw

kidy/n ugh nobody will know grandpa

sebastianvettel wow hater alert

georgerussell63 still not dating i presume? 🤨

kidy/n no sir

georgerussell63 i smell a big fat lie i fear

user5 IS THAT LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT QUEEN?

user6 pls stop lying to the world and just kiss after a race 🙏🏼🙏🏼

user7 and why exactly is he nOt the one pushing u in a kart??

kidy/n

📍 home

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 56,984 others

kidy/n didn’t see the news cause we were somewhere else

view 30 comments…

comments on this post have been limited.

oscarpiastri having fun without me should be a crime tbh

sebastianvettel this is why u weren’t answering ur phone?? ☹️

lilyzneimer photo credits where? 😔

kidy/n omg so trueeeeee i’m sorry i forgot

charles_leclerc making the uk look fun is a magic power

maxverstappen1 i heard the uk is only fun cause y/n lives there

landonorris what’s all this slander???

logansargeant

🎵 rex orange county - best friend

liked by oscarpiastri, kidy/n and 56,940 others

logansargeant the only problem living with your best friend is that every night is party night

view 288 comments…

kidy/n why are u telling people we’re alcoholics

oscarpiastri first you move in together, and now you’re not even inviting me to drink???

lilyzneimer cant believe i scored an invitation and u didnt

oscarpiastri wtf

kidy/n lol tough life oscar

user8 wow i thought they lived with oscar ngl

oscarpiastri ugh i wish

user9 why would he? he’s got a girlfriend

user10 really not dating?

sebastianvettel not sure how to feel about this

user11 them actually not being romantically involved is my roman empire

user12 in one universe, they’ve GOT to be dating

user13 it HAS TO BE THIS UNIVERSE PLEASE PLEASE PL

kidy/n so based

user13 wait i

formula1 drink safely pls 😀 (i’m begging for an invite)

logansargeant only if u pay for the alcohol

williamsracing not very family friendly of u ngl

kidy/n im sorry williams i tried to stop him ☹️

williamsracing its only ok bc its u

logansargeant ?

kidy/n posted on their story!

logansargeant wowwww look at you go bb!! so pretty!!!

kidy/n ehheheheehhe

oscarpiastri wow busy girl

sebastianvettel and kristen approved of this!!?!?

kidy/n WDYM SHE GOT ME THE ON THE PODCAST

sebastianvettel oh ok. youre just kinda wild lately idk

kidy/n whats that supposed to mean

sebastianvettel 🤷🏼‍♀️

maxverstappen1 the uggs are a no from me

kidy/n ok red bull merch lover

“thank you so much for being on the show,” hannah smiles into the mic. “i’m shocked to even receive the email from your pr manager, actually.”

“no, yeah,” she grins, nails pressed against her lips, biting down on the bottom. she’s never actually been on a podcast before. “we were talking about making an appearance somewhere, but i’m kinda - very - intimidated by men. i chose this podcast specifically.”

“oh, you know of our existence,” emma gushes, giggling slightly. “we feel so honoured. thank you so much.”

“honestly, i’m always around men,” she laughs, scrunching her nose. “i live with a man. so being around women is always a very nice change.”

“right, you recently moved in with logan sargeant in the uk,” hannah points out. “if you don’t mind me asking, how did that decision come about? because you’re really good friends with oscar piastri as well, how come he doesn’t live with you guys?”

“oh, that’s an interesting point,” emma frowns. “i never thought of that.”

“yeah, so growing up oscar and logan actually stayed with my family on and off just because they’ve got brothers and sisters that their parents would have to attend to back home,” she recalls out loud, remembering the sleepovers they’ve spend in the living room with her siblings. “i think when i was… like 15, oscar was 16, and logan was 17, obviously.

i think my sister and i had a really bad fight that turned the house upside down. i mentioned that i couldn’t wait to move out and never speak to her again — i was very overdramatic as a teen. and they were like ‘yeah, that’s a good idea! we should get a place!’”

“oh, so you didn’t even propose the idea of living together?”

“exactly! they just love inviting themselves to be a part of my life. they’ve got cars while i don’t, so that’s a big plus,” she laughs. “then, well, oscar met lily when he was 18 and they got an apartment together after oscar landed reserve driver for alpine. which then left logan and i to kinda figure things out. then, we both landed a contract to race in the 2023 season and both our racing headquarters are in uk, luckily. so we made the decision to move in together earlier this year.”

“so oscar bailed!”

“that’s okay,” she scoffs, waving off the host’s concern. “we live pretty close by, so lily and oscar are always at our place anyway.”

“so, i totally don’t wanna get into it. but like, girl to girl,” hannah grins giddily. “and i promise we’ll get into the racing stuff in a bit, but i’m just curious.”

“it’s okay because i like you guys,” she jokes. “ask away.”

“there’s a lot of speculation that you and logan seem to be too close to just be best friends,” hannah explains. “and it’s seemed to be a trend since you were in f2 together, so i just wanna ask you if… well…”

she smiles. this isn’t exactly the first time she’s heard that. while they preferred to keep their relationship under wraps for several reasons, her and logan aren’t very discreet either.

there are pictures on the internet, after races where they head to weigh-in together with logan holding her things, laughing as they walk, which is normal. but there are also a couple of pictures where they were caught with logan’s hand on her cheek, or of them walking in the paddocks with her hands wrapped around his arm.

she’s not shocked that people talk about their relationship, but more shocked that everyone seems to shrug it off as them being really good friends.

“we’re actually not romantically involved at all,” she lies, though her cheeks flush up at the thought of her boyfriend. “i think we met really early on in life so we’re super comfortable with each other.”

“so, you’re setting the record straight. you don’t have a man.”

she nods firmly. “i don’t have a man. not planning to get one — i’ve just been really busy with my career. if anything, logan is my stand-in date for every event.”

“that’s true friendship if i’ve ever seen one.”

[blackbleedingrose]

Long Lost Morningstar - Part One

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Lucifer x daughter! reader x Lilith

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Warnings: Forced child abandonment

Notes: This is my first Hazbin mini fic. This will be a mini series, so there will be a part two but it may take a little while as I tend to get busy with work and school - so please, bare with me.

Words: 880

"No! No! Please!"

It's no surprise Lucifer and Lilith fooled around a bit during their days in the Garden of Eden.

What was surprising was the moment Lilith discovered she was pregnant.

Despite the shock and slight fear of being new parents, Lucifer and Lilith were overjoyed at the news.

When they found out the baby was going to be a girl, the two cried in pure happiness.

Lucifer became adamant, and a little overbearing, about doing everything for Lilith not wanting her to overwork herself or the baby. This did annoy Lilith (being the independent woman she was), but she knew he just wanted to make sure she and the baby were safe.

When Lilith went into labor, Lucifer went into full panic mode (imagine that one scene from The Office)

Lucifer: *freaking out* "OMG! IT'S HAPPENING! DON'T PANIC, HONEY!

Lilith: *calmly packing the hospital bags*

Lucifer may have passed out during the delivery when his curiosity got the best of him and decided to see what was going on down there (I imagine seraphim's or angels born in Heaven aren't born the natural way and instead created through magic).

Lucifer woke up from the sounds of crying and when he came to he saw a tiny body being carried by one of the nurses.

After rejoining Lilith's side (and making sure she was okay while profusely apologizing for passing out) they waited for the nurses to clean up the baby.

The moment the two saw one of the nurses bring over a pink bundle, their hearts filled with unbridled love and joy.

She was so small and had tuffs of blonde hair. She had Lucifer's red cheek circle's and Lilith's eyes.

Lucifer's eyes welled up with tears as he lovingly gazed down at the tiny person in his lover's arms. "She's perfect, Lily".

Lilith agreed with happy tears as she laid a gentle kiss on their daughter's head.

The two named her (Y/N) - (Y/N) Morningstar.

(Y/N) was a lively baby who adopted her father's bubbly and curious personality, as well as his love for ducks.

Her first toy was a duck plushie Lucifer had made himself.

However, despite having everything they could want in the Garden, Heaven, and now their new baby - they wanted something more.

They wanted to share free will with humanity in hopes that Heaven would finally see Lucifer's ideas and change their suffocating rules so (Y/N) could live in a world that wouldn't stifle any of her future dreams.

This lead them to tempt Eve with the apple, causing the unfortunate chain of events that lead to Lucifer and Lilith's trial.

The two were found guilty of bringing evil into humanity and as punishment they would be sent down into Hell.

However, before they sent the family into eternal damnation Heaven decided (Y/N) was innocent as she was only a baby who knew not what her parents had done.

Being a child of a seraphim and one of humanities first human's, they saw potential in her for Heaven's future - so they decided (Y/N) would stay in Heaven while Lucifer and Lilith would go down to Hell.

"Take the child," Sera ordered one of the court angels. "No! No! Please!" Lucifer and Lilith begged with tears falling down their faces as they held (Y/N) closer to them. The court angels forced the wailing (Y/N) out of her crying parents arms.

That was the last time Lucifer and Lilith saw their daugther before being banished to Hell for all eternity.

To keep (Y/N) from discovering her true lineage, Heaven decided that Lucifer's twin brother, Michael, would claim to be her father and raise her as a role model seraphim - one that follows Heaven's rules.

As (Y/N) grew up it became increasingly obvious how much she took after her parents. She had Lucifer's curious and cheerful nature, and Lilith's eyes, long blonde hair, and grace - both her parents beauty present in her features. The perfect combination of the two.

She especially adopted Lucifer's six large wings, only they had a pink under surface and gold tips.

To bypass any questions of her mother, Michael told her that he had created her from stardust with both his and Lilith's likeness - only using Lilith as a reference for a female.

Michael made sure her curious nature didn't go as far as Lucifer's, keeping her busy with her education and where he can keep an eye on her.

To keep her in check he told her about Lucifer and Lilith, but that they were her uncle and aunt who had lost their way and fallen from grace.

When she entered into adulthood, Heaven decided it was time for her to bear more serious responsibilities.

That's how (Y/N) Morningstar Demiurgos became one of Heaven's trial record keepers/recorders (she sometimes sits in trials and writes what's being said for the records).

It was mainly because Michael wanted to her to have a busy office job and away from exploring and getting too curious (he hoped being in trials would satisfy her curiosity, but made sure to keep her from asking too many questions).

And for awhile everything was perfect and in Heaven's favor. . .

. . .Until a certain Princess of Hell came to Heaven with a dream.

[lanadelreyismyfav]

Ofc I can 🫶🏼🫶🏼

This is a Walker scobell x fem reader!

Walker had been filming for Percy Jackson for months you miss him so much but you still visit his house to see Leeana his sister.

You And Leena were best friends ever since you Walker started dating she was always so sweet to you. And today you guys plan to hang out.

You get dressed, you slip on one of Walker hoodies that he left behind and you slip on some leggings and some Jordans (if you aren’t comfortable or don’t like the outfit you can imagine you’re wearing something else <3)

You get to the house “Bye mom!”

“Bye Sweetie” Your mom says smiling at you

“Have fun!” She says again all you do is nod back at her

(Time skip)⏭️

You and Leena had been hanging out for a while now, And you had gone to the kitchen to get some snacks and while you were getting snacks you happen to run into Walkers mom

“Hi Ms Scobell” you said smiling at her

“Hi sweetie, how are you?” She says smiling at you

“I’m good, I just miss Walker” you say looking down kinda sad

“Well he’s gonna be home soon sweetie I promise” she says sweetly looking kinda like she’s thinking of something

“Well I have to go back to Leena, see you soon Ms Scobell” you say as you start to walk away to hang out with Leena again

“See you soon sweetie” she says smiling

(Walkers mom POV)

As I start to walk back to the living room after talking to Y/n I start to think maybe we could talk to her parents and plan something to surprise Y/n and Walker so they can see each other again

“Hey honey” I say to my husband

“Hey babe” My Husband says

“You know, Maybe we could get Walker home early for a couple days” I say looking at my husband curiously

“Yeah I mean we probably can, but why do you want him home early?” My husband says with a confused look on his face

“Well I was talking to Y/n and she misses Walker a lot and I do to so maybe we could get him home and surprise them with each other, we would have to talk to Y/n’s parents though” I say hoping he says it sounds like a good idea

“Well yeah we would have to call Y/n’s parents and ask them if we could all set something up for them to see each other, but I don’t see anything wrong with it we would just have to talk to the producers about it” my Husband says smiling at me

“Yes that’s sounds perfect I’ll call Y/n’s parents and you call the producers ok?” I say picking up my phone to call

“Ok well I will call the producers right now then as well” My husband says smiling and picking up his phone

(Your POV)

You and Leena have a sleepover that night so now it’s the next morning and you had to wake up early and leave because your little sibling had a soccer game so you had to leave

“Bye Leena” you say hugging Leena as you walk away

“Bye Y/n” Leena says hugging you back as you walk away

(Time skip) ⏭️

So it had been a couple weeks since you had hung out with Leena and Walker was still gone filming or was he Walkers mom and dad had pulled some strings and got Walker home for a couple days but you didn’t know that but your mom did

(Walkers mom POV)

“Hey Walker we’re going somewhere tonight so dress nice” I say to my son Walker

“Um ok well we’re are we going mom?” Walker asks me looking curious

“Well it’s a surprise honey” I say smiling at him

“Um ok” Walker says looking confused

(YOUR POV)

You were just hanging out in your room and your mom walked in

“Hey honey we’re going somewhere tonight so dress nice ok” your mom says smiling at you

“We’re are we going mom?” You say kinda confused

“It’s a surprise ok” your mom says walking out of the room

“Well ok” you say as you start to get ready

You throw on a pink casual dress and some pink Jordan’s, you curl your hair and put on some light makeup (and again if you don’t like the outfit you can change it if your not comfortable <3)

Your mom and you get into the car and she drives you to some fancy restaurant and You didn’t think anything of it she probably was just taking you out for a dinner or something.

You and your mom walk in to get a table but turns out you guys already had a reservation

You and your mom start to walk to the table with the waiter

“Thank you sir” your mom says to the waiter he gives her a nod as you and her take a seat at a pretty big table

“Mom it’s just me and you, why do we have such a big table” you say curiously

“Well you’ll see honey” your mom says looking kinda sneaky

You were just playing on your phone when suddenly you see someone from the corner of your eye you didn’t think much of it at first but then some people sat with us and of course you look up to see who’s sitting with you

You look up and you see Walker

“Walker!” You say excitedly

“Y/n!” Walker says back to you

You and Walker run to each other give each other one of the biggest hugs ever

“I’ve missed you so much Walker” you say as you hug Walker

“I’ve missed you to Y/n” Walker says as he looks up from the hug and gives you a quick kiss on the lips

You’ve missed his hugs and kisses for so long you’ve just missed him so much

As he kisses you, you hear something

“Aww you guys are such love birds” Leena says teasing you and Walker

“Shut up Leena” Walker says annoyed and embarrassed blushing

So for the rest of the night you and Walker sit next to each other and catch up with each other so when it was time to leave you gave Walker one of the biggest hugs and kisses ever

“I’ll talk to you later ok Walker” you say smiling at him

“Ok well I’ll text you when I get home” Walker says looking at you in awe

“Ok love you” you say you and Walker have never said I love you to each other so you we’re excited to see his reaction to your words

“I-I-I love you to y/n” Walker says stuttering nervously as he looks at you blushing you give him one more hug and Walker to your car with your mom.

-The end

I hope you guys enjoyed

And if you have any advice for writing I would appreciate it but if you don’t that’s totally fine 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hope you have an amazing day/night 🫶🏼

And you can leave more requests in the comments if you want

Love you guys byeee 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼💞

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (Special Chapter)

Special Chapter: High In Low Places

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warning: cussing

Word count: 8k

Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au

Rating: sfw

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, loveliees! As promised, you won't have to wait so much for updates anymore! ^^ I am so-so curious of what you will think of this chapter, I think it has a special place in my heart. I think I could have written it much better, but this is how it turned out, I hope it's still good. Before you start reading, I'd like to point out that reader (y/n) in this chapter is referred to as: she/her! ^^ Listen to High In Low Places before or while reading this chapter, and check out the author's note at the end of the chapter as well, it's important hehe! Let me know your thoughts and as always, I hope you enjoy, happy reading! divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

Mingi’s POV:

            The studio apartment Mingi can afford for himself isn’t the biggest, let alone the fanciest, but it’s a nice home. It’s cozy now that he’s finally decorated it to his liking. Yunho always complained about the emptiness of the walls whenever he came over, so now, they are decorated with prints of Mingi’s favorite artists, musicians, and anime posters. Yeah, Mingi, apparently, is still into anime. It appears so that his mother’s ‘predictions’ of him outgrowing his ‘phase’—ironically, she’s said this both about his ‘phases’ when he got into anime and on the day he finally mustered up the courage to tell her that he wanted to become a musician—so, to put it simply, yes, Mingi is still into anime at the fragile age of twenty-three, and yes, he will always be into anime, even at the not so fragile age of seventy-five.

However, about the musician part…if Noir Zenith have a break-through and make it into the industry, all of Mingi’s dreams will be accomplished. Well, most of his dreams. He fears he cannot beat the record of eating seventy-six hot dogs in ten minutes—what an accomplishment it would be though. Mingi knows he’s good—surprisingly, around two years ago, he finally started believing in himself—and he has a silver of hope that if Noir Zenith don’t make it big, he can have a successful solo career still. His professors say so, at least, and so does Yunho. The second person who’s opinion counts the most to Mingi. The first would be his professors’ opinions—and maybe hers, but Mingi isn’t yet ready for that conversation. Not that there needs to be a conversation about it. Yeah, Mingi is pretty hardcore into her and sometimes he wonders if others can see it. If she can see it.

She’s like an enigma, hard to read, yet, at the same time an open book. That’s how Mingi sees her, at least. He thinks he’s never met such a complex and beautiful person inside out. He wonders if she wouldn’t have been so animus towards him at the beginning, whether they could have started out as something other than friends—considering the wishful fantasy that she did recognize the progress that’s been made between them, leading to a potential friendship. At least that’s how Mingi sees things. He wants more, of course he does, but he will never force her into doing something she’s not comfortable with. Maybe she’ll never like him the way he likes her, and that’s fine with Mingi. He can sit back and support her from the shadows if that means he gets to see her happy and content with herself and her life.

Will it absolutely crush his heart and turn him into the emo boy he was back in highschool? Absolutely. Does that stop him from silently yearning for her to return his feelings at the end of each day? No, it doesn’t. But that’s just who Mingi is. A sore loser who loves deeply, cares about everyone else first before he cares about himself, sacrifices himself for them and regularly throws himself under the bus for these people. Maybe that’s why having Yunho as his best friend is such a blessing in disguise. Yunho had taught him a few tricks, helped him become more independent and less sacrificial—but you know, Mingi could never fully get rid of that core part of his personality.

He's cooped up at his makeshift studio at home—really, it’s just a large oak desk pushed up against the wall of his bedroom, a mixer and laptop placed on it with tons of notebooks and scattered pencils around, his expensive headset that was totally a gift from Yunho when he started university, and his shitty microphone that he should change soon if he wants to keep producing at home—and then there’s a distant rumble in the distance, the storm is coming back. It’s been raining quite often lately, and Mingi hates the rain. He prefers to cozy up underneath his favorite blanket—yeah, it’s totally yellow and it totally has chicks on it, sue him, it was a gift from Wooyoung, after all, for his birthday two years ago—and whenever it rains, Mingi likes to drink some hot chocolate and watch a really sappy movie. If he cries, no, he doesn’t, at least he wouldn’t admit it to anyone—maybe Seonghwa, but that would be embarrassing still. He has an electronic piano in his living room snuggled up in the corner of the room, taking up quite the place of his already small enclosure, but Mingi is a musician, he needs his instruments at hand at all times. Hence the three guitars lining his wall in his bedroom, behind his back, as he’s currently clicking through folders on his laptop.

He needs to work on his music—he’s behind on two assignments, and the thing is, Mingi’s been inspired often lately, and so, there are many unfinished lyrics and beats waiting for him to return to and complete them, but most require of him to be in a certain mood. Like the one he is in right now, jittery a little bit, and maybe caffeinated to the point he should make sure his heart wouldn’t bail on him. Fear not, though, it’s not his first time. After all, Mingi is a university student and this is nothing compared to the three all-nighters he pulled one after the other last year after he procrastinated badly. If it wasn’t for Seonghwa and his worrisome nature—okay, maybe Mingi wouldn’t be here right now, but he tends to stop his brain from straying towards thoughts as such. He’s had dark moments in his life before, and recalling them would completely destroy his mood.

As he clicks open another folder, Mingi pauses. Okay, so, the thing is…Mingi is a loser. And he’s so deep in this unclear relationship—friendship—that’s got his mind preoccupied lately, that if anyone were to see the folder with her name in his laptop—yeah, he’d be mortified. You see, these songs aren’t about her, per se—they totally are, but Mingi is a scared loser and he won’t admit it just yet—these songs are for her. You know, from a friend to a friend—he hasn’t dedicated any songs to Yunho yet, but let’s ignore that detail—and Mingi really hopes that one day she’ll be able to listen to these totally friendly songs that aren’t about her. Yeah.

Mingi opens the newest folder and his eyes fall on the latest documents he’s been working on. He had composed the beat for this song a while ago, when he was still unsure whether Seonghwa and Wooyoung would be up to explore something that is more indie, but now it’s been the center of his attention for a while now. For two weeks, precisely. He’s meticulous when it comes to lyrics writing, it’s an irritating defect he has, at least that’s how he sees it. But his professors always praise him for how lyric and poetic, at times, his lyrics are, so he takes pride in that and tries not to get mad at himself for taking so long to finish one goddamn lyrics.

He licks his plush lips and pushes up his glasses on the bridge of his nose as they were close to slipping off. And sue him, really do so, but he has noticed her staring at his glasses quite often. And her eyebrows always furrow just a little, deep eyes hyper fixating on his nose and glasses. Mingi can’t say for sure, but he’s pretty sure she’s bothered by his lack of unbotheredness whether his glasses are slipping off his nose or not. Sometimes he forgets he’s wearing his glasses, that’s why. He clicks on the document and it opens, so he takes his headphones and puts them on, pursing his lips as he grabs one of his notebook’s and a pencil.

‘Me and you/Me and you are fireproof’ – The beat starts off simple, nothing too crazy or jumpy. Mingi wanted the beats to be calm and chill, kind of crawl in your ears at the first listen. His raspy voice is smooth too, void of its usual raspiness this time. He can rarely control that, but after much experimenting, Mingi realized if he loosens his throat enough and sings deep in his throat, his voice comes out softer and less raspy.

‘Always try to blame my youth/I just wanna be your muse’ – The beat is steady, Seonghwa will love the fact that he gets to play the drums so early into the song, and Mingi’s voice drops significantly. He loves playing with intonations, he loves putting emotion into his words, into his voice. It’s like a play for him, a game of playing hide and seek with whichever emotion he wants to show or mask through his voice. Right now, it’s sultry, it’s breathy, and it’s exactly the way he’s intended it to be.

‘Neon light leads us to the end of time/'Cause I can see infinity in your eyes, in your eyes’ – Mingi closes his eyes as he lets the music take over him, pencil tapping against his notebook rhythmically. And he’s taken by his own words, finding himself relating to them more and more as days pass by. Whenever he closes his eyes, he can see hers, deep and dark in its color, blending in with his, always holding his gaze fiercely. Mingi’s been told that he’s an intimidating person at first glance—eyes, nose, cheekbones sharp—his face expressive and rarely hiding how he’s truly feeling, but that’s just first impressions, because Mingi is anything but cold or unfriendly. And whenever she holds his gaze, Mingi cannot help but try to ignore the way his heart jumps in his chest, pulse quickening. And whenever she smirks or her eyes crinkle from her laughter, Mingi thinks he’s getting deeper and deeper into this mess he’s created for himself.

‘You and I got some troubles we're facing/I know we can make it staying high in low places’ – The beat drops for a second, and then the instruments are back with Mingi’s voice, accompanying each other well, the rhythm picking up just slightly. Mingi can feel the words crawling together in his brain now, his body jittery again as he grins, gripping his pencil tighter. The chorus is good, but he hasn’t been able to write past it, but it’s coming to him right now.

‘Never mind all the tears that we wasted/I know we can make it staying high in low places (ooh)’ – And Mingi remembers the night he found her in his favorite diner, looking like she’s been crying for a while now, eyes rimmed red and nose and cheeks flushed. The rain had soaked her clothes, her hair sticking to her face, and Mingi swears he hasn’t seen anyone more beautiful than her. He wishes he knew when it all started, this—infatuation he feels towards her—but he’s clueless. Or maybe he’s not, maybe he’s just afraid to admit that he’s seen her around campus before and found her breathtaking. Maybe Mingi always has had his eyes on her and has just opted to remain in the shadows, because quite frankly, he sucks at approaching people and initiating anything. And maybe the day Wooyoung showed him pictures of Seulgi on her Instagram account, he had spotted her next to Seulgi, maybe Mingi’s heart had started racing with a stupid flicker of hope in it. Maybe Mingi really is on the brink of dropping a random ass confession onto her, but he knows she’s not ready, and he’d hate himself if he ever made her feel uncomfortable. He knows someone has hurt her gravely, and he wants things to go right this time. He can’t fuck it up.

‘In your arms, in your arms (ooh)/High in low places’ – Mingi thinks she can take him higher than anyone else, show him a whole new world. If there’s one thing he thinks can compete with her beauty and wits, it’s her art. Mingi doesn’t know much about fine art and paintings, but he knows goddam well that whoever that Monet guy was that she loves so much had nothing on her—and as you can see, Mingi is down bad, because Claude Monet was, and still is, a legend of Impressionism.

Mingi ruffles his dark hair, it’s gotten a little longer, and adjust his glasses again before he grins, jotting down the next words that will turn into the lyrics of his song. He’s composed the song with Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s timbre in mind, and he knows their voices will fit beautifully, complete it with a harmony that his unfortunately lacks. But that’s the beauty of their band. Each one of them has a particular charm that the other one lacks and they complement each other in a subtle, yet obviously gorgeous way—and well, Mingi isn’t a narcissist, but he is a Leo, and he can’t deny that their looks aren’t eye catching as well, definitely another asset of theirs that just so happens to add to the charm of Noir Zenith. – ‘Wasted days/Wasted 'til we're MIA/Stuck inside a desert haze/I just want to slip away’

Friday (11:30 am)

Me: i see u still haven’t checked my message… nothing too worrisome u certainly know how to make a man yearn for you lol that was a joke…dont freak out on me pls (lowkey true tho)

            Mingi was restless. He thought that when had texted her that he got home safely—you know, after they hung out at her place, waiting for the rain to stop while killing the time by watching a movie and they have almost kissed—Mingi really thought she was just busy. And he still thinks so, because why would she ignore his messages? He’s texted her a few times already and she didn’t even bother to read them. Mingi wasn’t expecting anything from her, wasn’t trying to push her, but he was a little bit restless now. Sue him, but he couldn’t help himself. He took another glance at his phone, waiting for his messages to be read, for her to finally start typing back, but there was nothing. And the fact that her contact name stared back at him as if it was mocking him wasn’t helping with Mingi’s racing thoughts. He was an overthinker, after all. In case you were wondering, Mingi has saved her in his phone as: her (my artsy girl).

Yeah, maybe Mingi was a lot more into her than he had realized at first. But to be fair, there was nothing wrong about saving her like that. She is an artsy girl, and she’s—Mingi doesn’t want to elaborate on that just yet. And so, he’s pacing up and down in his not so big living room, walking around his couch and glancing down at his phone every few seconds. Okay, he’s effectively going crazy right now and he wants to pull out his hair. Which isn’t a smart idea, he fears his handsomeness stops at him going bald. And okay, maybe he’s spiraling. Maybe his heart is about to fall into his ass, and maybe he’s trying to take deep breaths in order to not pass out. Maybe Mingi is handling the radio silence horribly. Actually, make that horrifyingly bad, that’s how he’s not handling all this.

If he stops for a second and takes a deep breath, ripping his glasses off in frustration and rubs at his eyes quite painfully, he can feel it all coming back. The warm feeling he’s felt while they settled into her bed, the way his eyes lingered on her pursed lips as she searched for a movie to watch. And her room—let him not even get started on her room, Mingi fell in love with it. It’s just so her that he feels like he knows her a lot better now that she’s allowed him inside her safe place. Her drawings and paintings were breathtaking. He—he saw the drawing laying on her bed, sketchbook all open and shit, and yeah, he fought every muscle in his body to not grin and jump up and down in excitement at the replica of him in her own sketchbook. Mingi knew she would draw him sometimes, but now he’s wondering just how often she finds herself drawing him. Does that mean she thinks of him often? Or does she just simply get carried away and mindlessly draws whatever person comes to mind first? But if that’s the case, why would he come to her mind when she wasn’t even fixating on him?

Mingi is a mess, alright, he’s panicking. He’s panicking because he can still feel the ghost of her warm breath against his cheek, the feel of her soft skin. He was right there; the opportunity had been beautifully given to him—and he does not regret not kissing her. Yeah, he kissed the corner of her lips, because he wanted it to be her choice whether they actually kiss or not. Don’t get Mingi wrong, if it were after him, he fears he would have devoured her ages ago, but after so many years of struggling with his own emotions, he became really good at restraining himself, at having control over himself in tense situations. It’s both a curse and blessing in disguise, because he really just should have kissed her, dammit. Why is he such a considerate gentleman? They didn’t even kiss and she’s ignoring him now. Great job Mingi, you tried to avoid a disaster only for it to still become reality. Sometimes, he hates himself, but he thinks that’s okay. Everybody hates themselves a little bit at times, even if they deny it.

Mingi chews on his bottom lip and decides to place his phone face down on his couch and meditate—Mingi doesn’t know how to meditate. The air is chilly outside and maybe he forgot to pay some bills so his heater isn’t exactly working at the moment, but fear not, Mingi is a big boy—he’s a man, alright—and he will pay his bills. Tomorrow. So, due to this itsy bitsy tiny little fact, he might be bundled up in his sweater. Well…the sweater’s his now. It wasn’t his two days ago. It was her cousin’s, more precisely, but since she gave it to Mingi, it’s his now. And if he wears it almost every day, no, he doesn’t. It bogs his mind a little bit that it just so happens to resemble the same sweater Yunho used to love, to the point his mother had to hide it from him, that’s how often he’d wear it—and maybe this is another factor that makes Mingi cling to it that much more. Maybe the fact that it’s from someone he really likes, and the fact that it makes him remember someone he really loves, fucks with his mind. Especially if seasonal depression is hitting hard. He’s trying to fight it; he’s trying to do better—he’s promised Yunho and himself that he’d do better—but he feels his chest get heavy, and he hopes Seonghwa hurries his ass over before he can spiral even further into the madness his thoughts bring with themselves.

And Seonghwa, like the angel he is, does indeed save Mingi from the doom that has been looming over his head. There’s a knock at Mingi’s door and he jumps up from the couch, racing to the door. He makes it there in three long strides, his apartment really isn’t that huge. Seonghwa is smiling at him softly as Mingi opens the door for him, and so very out of character, Mingi lunges for his close friend and engulfs him in a tight hug, “Thank you for coming.”

Seonghwa is speechless and frozen for a second, but then he chuckles, “My, my, my, you must have been really lonely if you’re so happy to be in my company.”

“I’m always happy and eager to be in your company, Hwa.” Mingi says with a pout and makes way for his friend to step inside. Seonghwa chuckles, his round eyes twinkling under the light of Mingi’s lamp. It’s barely noon but rain clouds are gathering outside once again, and Mingi hates it with all of his soul. Why is it raining so much lately? Isn’t it supposed to snow, rather? It is almost the end of November, after all.

“I know.” Seonghwa whispers as he ruffles Mingi’s hair, having shaken off his coat and discarded his shoes at the door, he walks further inside Mingi’s apartment. He’s been here plenty of times, and he knows he can make himself at home and do whatever. Mingi doesn’t really mind. Seonghwa has a tote bag in his hands as he nears Mingi’s round table in the kitchen area—Mingi’s living room and kitchen are just one big room, divided by nothing—and Seonghwa starts emptying his bag onto the table. Mingi walks closer, peaking at the items Seonghwa has brought over. Dye and bleach. Okay, maybe Mingi’s at the brink of a lapse of judgement, but he knew Seonghwa wouldn’t bat an eyelash if he randomly called him up and asked him to help him change up his hair. Mingi’s been wanting a change for a while now, it’s almost unfortunate that she is the one that pushed him into enough ‘madness’ to finally do it. She is a catalyst for quite a few things happening in Mingi’s life right now, or so he had noticed.

“Are you sure you want to bleach your hair, Mingi?” Seonghwa’s voice carries doubt as Mingi leans his hip against the table, grabbing the bleach out of Seonghwa’s hands.

“Yup, pretty sure about it.” He mutters, his lips pursed as he turns the box over a few times.

“How come?” Seonghwa mirrors his pose, hips resting against the table and arms crossed in front of his chest. He has that critical look on his face, and Mingi considers for a second if it was smart to ask Seonghwa over Wooyoung to help him. Wooyoung is nosy, but at least he can be easily distracted. Seonghwa, however, he presses and presses until he gets the truth out of you. Mingi sometimes hates that, there are no secrets in front of Seonghwa, yet he holds too many secrets.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, actually.” Mingi tries to sound nonchalant as he absentmindedly lets his fingers run through his dark locks.

“But?” Seonghwa raises one eyebrow and Mingi’s lips purse as he averts his eyes.

“Can you not interrogate me this time?” Mingi’s voice is whiney, nothing Seonghwa isn’t used to, “I just really need a change, no big deal.”

“Okay, fine, I believe you.” But Seonghwa doesn’t sound completely convinced as he says that, and Mingi offers him a very fake grin, smile boxy and full of teeth. It makes Seonghwa chuckle as he takes the bleach out of Mingi’s hands, and grabs his tote bag before he makes his way to Mingi’s bathroom. Like a puppy, Mingi follows after him as he grabs the dye, and turns on the light switch for Seonghwa as he places everything in his hands down on Mingi’s counter in the bathroom, “Silver blonde, then?”

Mingi hums and closes the lid of toilet, sitting on it as he watches his friend, “It’ll be a hard process though, I don’t promise I’ll be able to pull it off right away.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Mingi shrugs, fiddling with his fingers in his lap, “You’re pretty great at these type of things, I trust you.”

“Yeah, well, Hongjoong didn’t see my vision when I dyed his hair half blonde and half black.” Seonghwa huffs under his breath, still pretty salty about his boyfriend not liking the look as much as Seonghwa, and quite literally everyone else around him did. Mingi chuckles, still remembering Seonghwa sulk for a few days because of it. It was endearing how much Hongjoong’s opinion mattered to Seonghwa. When the two were together, Seonghwa’s eyes sparkled, and his skin glowed, his laughter more frequent, and disposition overall just happier. And Hongjoong—Mingi’s known him for four months now, that’s how long the two had been dating for—and despite Hongjoong trying to remain impassive around his lover, it was so very obvious of how in love he was with the taller one. Hongjoong rarely smiled, but when he was with Seonghwa, his cheeks would hurt and flush a light shade of red. Mingi quite quickly realized Hongjoong loved looking at Seonghwa, his eyes somehow always straying onto his lover, lingering there with profound love written all over his face. Mingi was witness to the almost disastrous end of their—at that time—short lived relationship as Seonghwa’s insecurities got the best of him and drew him away from Hongjoong. But Hongjoong didn’t give up, and partially thanks to Mingi—and Wooyoung—here they were now, happy and in love, looking forward to many more years together.

“Hongjoong is quite daft at times.” Mingi finds himself saying as he rolls his eyes, making Seonghwa pause his actions as he looks at Mingi sharply.

“You would never dare say that to his face.” And Seonghwa was right, Mingi would rather shit himself than badmouth Hongjoong to his face. That man might be shorter than Mingi himself, but he’s certain Hongjoong would drag him through all levels of hell and embarrass him to the point he’d be on the verge of tears—simpler put, Hongjoong is ruthless and sharp, and Mingi is scared of him.

“Of course, I wouldn’t dare say that to his face,” Mingi shudders, making Seonghwa almost smile, “He’d make me suffer in my next life too, if I did.”

“Serves you right for always talking shit about others.” Seonghwa chuckles, making Mingi scoff.

“I don’t even do that, hey, I’m just honest.”

“And dumb, but what’s new.”

            And just like that, Mingi finds himself half an hour later sitting on the cold tiles of his bathroom floor with Seonghwa, second round of bleach all set on his hair and burning just a little bit his scalp—Seonghwa reassured him multiple times that he wouldn’t go bald, but Mingi is still skeptical about it. A little bit too late for that now, I guess. Seonghwa had placed two towels on Mingi’s shoulders, one at the front and one at the back, to protect Mingi’s sweater in case the bleach dropped on it, and they were kind of dragging down Mingi’s sweater’s collar, but he wouldn’t complain about it just yet. They would be taking the bleach off soon, and he knows Seonghwa would go off on him for whining when all of this was Mingi’s idea in the first place. Music is playing softly in the background, and Mingi tsks as Seonghwa accidentally overlines his pinky nail, smudging his skin too with black nail polish.

“You’re so bad at this, Hwa.” Mingi groans, grimacing as Seonghwa’s tongue is stuck out as he concentrates on painting Mingi’s nails black. They were far from perfect, and Mingi’s heart mourns for a second, until he realizes it kind of looks cool. Edgy. Maybe Seonghwa is onto something.

“Yeah, because it’s usually Hongjoong who paints our nails, and not me.” Seonghwa’s gaze is sharp as he throws Mingi a look, Seonghwa’s own nails painted, but an obnoxious neon pink. It is a little bit out of Mingi’s comfort zone, but Seonghwa said he liked the color and wanted to try it out. And who is Mingi to judge? Plus, he would’ve been a really bad friend if he didn’t do as his close friend wished.

“Okay, done!” Seonghwa grins, closing the black nail polish and putting it aside, “We should wash out the bleach too, before you actually go bald—”

“Seonghwa!” Mingi screeches, getting to his feet in an instant as he faces the mirror on his wall, gaping at himself. His hair is a yellowish color; however it is turning whiter by the second.

“I’m just kidding.” Seonghwa snickers, and then, as if a bulldozer hit the side of the building of Mingi’s apartment complex, his front door is thrown open, and a loud screech resounds through the open door of his bathroom.

“I’ve arrived!” Undoubtedly, the high-pitched voice belongs to none other than their dear friend, Wooyoung, “And I’ve got pizza!”

“Lock the door!” Seonghwa calls out as Mingi leans over his bathtub, letting Seonghwa rinse out the bleach tenderly from his hair. Finally, Mingi’s scalp had felt like it was on fire, but he was too scared to let Seonghwa know. Now, he prays his fair won’t fall out completely. There is shuffling outside the door and then, Wooyoung in all of his glory, barrels through the open door.

“Damn, it smells like poisonous gases in here.” He gags, placing the pizza boxes on the floor as he beelines it for the small window, “And your music sucks.”

“Fuck off!” Mingi hisses, twisting his arm to give Wooyoung his middle finger, “Limp Bizkit is a great band!”

“Yeah, if you like noise.” Wooyoung huffs and suddenly the music is stopped, making Mingi groan as Seonghwa just chuckles, massaging the strawberry smelling soap into his hair.

“You are the noise here, Wooyoung.” Mingi fires back, making Seonghwa snort loudly as Wooyoung puts on some pop music, making Mingi groan. He isn’t in the mood to listen to pop music right now.

“Stop bickering,” Seonghwa says, rinsing the soap out of Mingi’s hair, “and feed me some pizza, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung happily obliges as he opens one box, a slice already missing as he had eaten it on his way up to Mingi’s apartment, and he takes a slice for Seonghwa. He walks over to his two friends, and before he can feed Seonghwa, Wooyoung throws his left arm around Seonghwa’s waist and nuzzles up against his back, making Seonghwa sway and spray the side of Mingi’s face with water.

“Hey!” Mingi yelps as water enters his nose, making Wooyoung cackle into Seonghwa’s back as he hides his face in his friend’s back, inhaling Seonghwa’s familiar scent. Wooyoung can be a complete menace at times, but Mingi and Seonghwa would never admit they love him the way he is. It is hard not to when Wooyoung is such a good and respectful person.

“Oops, my bad!” Wooyoung giggles as he finally releases Seonghwa and holds pizza slice up to his mouth as Seonghwa takes a bite while putting conditioner in Mingi’s hair.

“You can see yourself out if you’re only here to disturb our piece of mind—Wooyoung!” Mingi, it seemed like, is Wooyoung’s target for the day as he had slaps Mingi’s ass hard, enjoying the way he is bent forward and over the bathtub. It makes Seonghwa laugh loudly, the cute sound has Mingi giggling too, and in no time, the three of them are shaking with laughter, reveling in each other’s company. There is nothing more healing to Mingi than spending his time with his closest friends—and Yunho, of course.

『In your arms, in your arms

Staying high in low places』

            More days passed and Mingi was helpless. He really doesn’t understand whether he has done something so deeply wrong to deserve this—to be ignored by her. It’s Sunday, and his texts weren’t even read. He thought of calling her, but ultimately talked himself down and found something else to do. Like write his sappy lyrics that is about her. Okay, Mingi has to admit this one. He feels like he is going crazy, and the problem is that he could talk about it to someone, but he just doesn’t want to. Not yet, at least. He is scared if he says it out loud, it would become reality. Her, leaving him. Not that they are together or anything, but Mingi just simply doesn’t want to lose the friendship that’s blossomed between them over the month. It was gradual and not sudden, he knew she still had some prejudice about him and didn’t fully trust him, but they were making progress. And now Mingi hates himself for the near kiss. If he had been a little bit smarter, more in control of himself, it would’ve never happened. And it kills him that he can’t turn back time, but would it change anything? Would he actually do it differently? Would he when she was looking at him with eyes that were shining with curiosity and want? When her expression was inviting and warm and yearning? Yeah, no, Mingi has self-control, but not to the point to stop himself from giving in when someone looked to be wanting just as much as him. And Mingi has to stop thinking about her, for God’s sake he’s been trying so hard over these past few days that he’s convinced he’s finally going mad, so when Wooyoung texts him that they are going out for dinner later tonight, Mingi jumps in delight and starts getting ready.

And they go to his favorite diner too—where him and her had met, and she was all wet from the rain and crying due to something unknown to Mingi—and he has to stop thinking about her when he’s with his friends! The atmosphere is light and cozy, lightning dim but not to the point you can’t see, and the music playing is retro and if Mingi turns around, he can see an elderly couple dance around happily, laughing and talking to each other. His stomach coils at the sight, and he tries to fight the yearning and sadness that tries to overtake him, he really does.

“So, Seonghwa,” Wooyoung breaks Mingi’s intense gaze and mindless thoughts, “how’s that art gallery looking?”

Seonghwa blushes for a second, and hides his mouth behind his palm as he tries to chew his chicken nugget faster, “Good, good. I found a spot for it, finally.”

Wooyoung beams at that and Mingi can see Hongjoong trying to bite down his smirk, “That’s amazing! Why haven’t you said anything?!”

“He thinks he’s gloating if he says anything,” It’s Hongjoong who answers instead of Seonghwa, and his answer makes both Mingi and Wooyoung roll their eyes at his words, “He thinks everything he’s achieved lately isn’t because of his own merit—”

“Hongjoong!” Seonghwa flushes even more, his cheeks already tinged pink from the alcohol he had consumed during the evening, “Why would you say that to them?!”

“So that there’s someone else other than me praising you for your hard work and letting you know that you are the reason these things are happening to you, my love.” Wooyoung pretends to gag when he hears the endearing words leave Hongjoong’s mouth, but Mingi just smiles and takes a sip of his own beer. It’s been a while since he had drunk, he felt the need tonight. He had hoped it would help him unwind—it wasn’t working so far.

“You need to stop having this impostor syndrome, Hwa.” Mingi hears himself talking, eyebrows furrowed as he steals a fry off of Wooyoung’s plate. The shorter one makes a sound of displeasure, and in a petty revenge, steals a pickle off of Mingi’s plate.

“Let’s stop talking about me, please.” Seonghwa says with a sigh, eyebrows furrowing, and it’s obvious he isn’t feeling comfortable. Mingi pretends he doesn’t see Hongjoong place his hand on Seonghwa’s thigh and squeeze. Mingi pretends he doesn’t suddenly feel a pang of jealousy towards the couple. They worked through their differences and doubts, and here they were, in love and going forward. Why could Mingi not have that too? Why did everyone abandon Mingi in the end? His parents told him he had to fend for himself if he chose to be a musician, and if it weren’t for his grandparents funding him until he has finished university—he doesn’t want to think where he’d be. Yunho had once abandoned him too, left him alone in this city, letting him unknowingly almost destroy himself. Wooyoung, now, has Seulgi and he spends a significant amount of his time with her, and is rarely up for their schedules gaming nights, Mingi feels abandoned. Seonghwa is like he has always been like, but he’s not as spontaneous as before. Sometimes Mingi just wants to go on night drives and listen to music and Seonghwa isn’t available because of Hongjoong anymore, Mingi feels abandoned.

“How’s the deal with the label going?” Hongjoong speaks up after the prolonged silence, not uncomfortable by any means, and Mingi heaves a sigh as he downs his beer in one go. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow at that.

“We’re still negotiating the terms, payment, and all the gist.” Mingi mutters, placing his chin in his palm. He’s not drunk, nor tipsy, but he feels a light buzz in his head. One more pint and he might just become tipsy.

“I see,” Hongjoong hums, rubbing his lower lip with two fingers, “But they’re treating you well, right?”

Hongjoong, as usual, is wearing fancy clothes. It’s a Sunday evening, yet he’s dressed to the nines. Mingi feels a little uncomfortable because of that—and just what’s his problem?! What’s gotten into him today? He’s never been like this before; he feels annoyed at himself.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mingi mutters, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Wooyoung, despite being labeled as someone who talks and talks without paying attention to those around himself, has picked up on Mingi’s displeased mood, and scoots his chair closer to his. He grins widely at Mingi and throws his arm around his friend’s shoulder, pulling Mingi into his side. Mingi doesn’t say anything despite not feeling up for the physical closeness, and allows Wooyoung to pinch his cheek.

“Lighten up, dude, what’s wrong?” Wooyoung asks, but not loud enough for Seonghwa and Hongjoong to hear as they have started softly conversing about something. Seonghwa is smiling, eyes narrowed and the way he’s leaning towards Hongjoong have both Wooyoung and Mingi knowing that he’s saying something inappropriate, and if Hongjoong’s eyes widening isn’t confirmation for Mingi and Wooyoung, then Hongjoong choking on his water certainly is.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Mingi gulps, picking around his food before he steals another fry from Wooyoung’s plate and dips it into his own ketchup, “I think I’m tired.”

“Dude, it’s a Sunday evening, how are you tried?” Wooyoung is confused as he finally releases Mingi, and he tries not to let it show on his face that he’s happy for the separation.

Mingi thinks for a second, though, and makes up a stupid lie, “I still haven’t recovered from yesterday’s game.”

“Right.” Wooyoung doesn’t believe him and it’s nothing new to the both of them, Wooyoung sees right through Mingi’s lies. Everyone does, actually, he can’t lie to save his life, “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I just—” And Mingi almost goes off, but he abruptly remembers where he is as people start clapping behind him, “Nothing, I’m just tired. I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Okay.” Wooyoung whispers while looking disappointed, and Mingi suddenly hates himself for making his friend feel like that. He can’t help but think he’s made Wooyoung feel like he’s not worthy of knowing Mingi’s thoughts, of knowing what his heart desires. And he wants to talk about how much it affects him that she hasn’t texted back—and probably won’t, Mingi came to the realization—but there’s a lump in his throat that is kind of making him choke up right now. And when he hears Seonghwa giggling, and he looks up, Hongjoong is leaning towards Seonghwa with a mischievous look on his face, and then Seonghwa steals a kiss from his boyfriend that makes Hongjoong freeze. Wooyoung is typing away on his phone, and Mingi knows he’s talking to his girlfriend, Seulgi, because who else would Wooyoung be talking to? And the lump in Mingi’s throat tightens and he abruptly stands, heartbeat quickening. His three friends look up at him alarmed, and Mingi’s embarrassed, but he can’t help himself as he grabs his phone off the table and pushes it in his pocket.

“Sorry, guys, I’m not feeling well.” Mingi croaks out, clearing his throat as his tone wavers, “I’ll head home now, you enjoy yourselves.”

“Hey, Mingi,” Hongjoong has concern written all over his face and it makes Mingi almost cry. He hates how sensitive he is, “I can drive you home—”

“That’s cool, man.” Mingi is shaking his head at the offer, he needs fresh air and a long walk to try and clear his mind, otherwise he’ll have a panic attack. He can feel it, and he does not want that.

“Mingi—”

“Seriously.” Before any of his friends could insist more, he throws his jacket on and waves at them. And then he’s out of the diner in a second, feeling a little bit bad for not greeting Dahyun first, but the place feels too stuffy and warm for him to stay inside anymore. He takes off and tries to take deep breaths, but his lungs won’t expand fully. His hands are slightly shaking as he grabs his phone out of his pocket and he unlocks it, staring down at her contact. Nothing, still. Mingi’s heart clenches and he bites his lower lip, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. He can’t do this anymore; he feels like he’s breaking. He doesn’t understand why she won’t at least give him an explanation. Fine, she doesn’t want to be friends with him anymore, but she has to explain why. Mingi won’t rest until he doesn’t know the reason, and it’s making him crawl up a wall. He dials a number before he can even think more about it, and he finds himself teary eyed at the familiar male voice.

“Hey, Ming!” It’s cheery as always, and Mingi knows Yunho is smiling on the other end, “Fancy seeing you call, it’s not like I haven’t heard your voice like—four hours ago.”

“Yunho.” And Mingi feels horrible for worrying Yunho, because the last time he called his best friend and sounded like this—things were bad. And by the way Yunho goes quiet before he gasps quietly, Mingi knows he fucked up and he shouldn’t have called when he feels so all over the place, but he needed to hear his best friend’s voice, he needs Yunho. Because there’s no one else like Yunho in the world. No one else who understand him like Yunho. No one else who knows him like Yunho. No one else who’s always been next to him like Yunho has been. No one else who loves him unconditionally like Yunho does.

“Mingi, what’s wrong?” Yunho sounds panicked and before Mingi can stop himself, a tear falls down his cheek, “Please, talk to me. Do I—do I have to come home? I can drive down right now, but it’ll take two hours—”

“Yunho,” And Mingi’s now crying as he crosses the road quickly, walking to a park that’s dimly lit so he can cry in peace, away from prying eyes—not that there are many people out at this hour, “You don’t—don’t have to come home, I just—I’m so confused, and I’m tired, and I need someone.”

“Mingi, you have me, tell me what’s wrong.” Yunho’s voice is soft and Mingi is grateful they aren’t on facetime, because he’s positive Yunho’s eyes are filled with tears right now, and that would just make him cry harder. He tries to wipe at his cheeks, but the tears just keep coming, and the lump in his throat gets harsher and makes it a little hard to speak, but Mingi powers through.

“I met this girl,” He sniffs loudly and takes a deep breath, and Yunho is quiet, listening closely, “you know her, I’ve talked about her a few times.”

“The girl who paints and draws, right?” Yunho asks just to make sure.

“Yes.” Mingi sniffs, his tears becoming fewer, “And she’s—there was a heavy rain on Thursday and I drove her home before it got that bad, but I would have had to wait for it to pass in my car—but she invited me inside. And it was fine, it was fun and everything went well and then—then I—she—we almost kissed. Her mother got home and she interrupted us, and it’s just, she was a little weird right after it, but—she—she hasn’t texted back since Thursday, Yunho. She didn’t even look at my messages and I sent her plenty. I—I don’t know what to do because I think—I think I like her a lot, Yunho, and I don’t want to lose her over something so banal. We’re not even a thing, we’re just friends, but I—I don’t want to lose her too.”

What a word-vomit, Mingi thinks, as he sniffs loudly and rubs at his nose and cheeks with the sleeve of his jacket, sitting on a bench as he pulls his legs up and hugs them to his chest. Yunho is quiet for a second on the other end, until he sighs long.

“Oh, Mingi,” He sounds sad, and it makes Mingi chew on his bottom lip again, holding back a new flood of tears, “That’s so fucked, what the hell! I know you feel like shit, and I know what you are thinking right now—I’ve known you for my whole life—so, please, stop blaming yourself for her own actions and reactions. You didn’t do anything wrong and she should treat you better. You don’t deserve to be ignored and you do deserve an explanation. I’m sorry I can’t be physically there for you.”

“This is enough.” Mingi whispers, feeling his heart less heavy now that he’s said all that, “It’s enough that you listen to me and reassure me. Hearing your voice is enough too, Yuyu.”

Yunho chuckles on the other end and Mingi cracks the smallest smile, “You’re so sappy, but I’m glad I’m able to help even if I’m not there with you. I would tackle you in a big hug right now and definitely buy your favorite chips and go on a drive with you, if I could.”

Now, that makes Mingi sad again, dammit, “You know what? Maybe you should drive here tonight.”

Yunho snorts, and Mingi stands, determined to walk home now, “I am planning on going home in a few weeks, actually.”

“Why not tomorrow?” Mingi insists, eyebrows furrowing at having to wait that much more. It’s been almost two months since Yunho has come home.

“We’ll, I’ve already got—”

“Stuff to do and shit.” Mingi cuts his best friend off, already knowing what he would say. They snort at the same time and then break into quiet giggles. Mingi is content all of a sudden, head a little clearer and lump from his throat gone, finally.

“I miss you.” Yunho beats Mingi to it, and Mingi smiles from ear to ear as he turns onto his street, he doesn’t live that far away from the diner.

“And I miss you too.” Mingi says it back, tipping his head back as he looks up at the night sky. The sky is finally clear and he can see the stars and the moon. It makes him smile again, Mingi loves the moon a little bit too much, perhaps, “I love you, Yuyu.”

“I love you, Min.”

And to Mingi, there is nothing more therapeutic than talking to his best friend, hearing his voice, being in his presence and able to share his affections towards him. Yunho is too precious to him.

Sunday (1:01 am)

Me: …you’re ignoring me, arent u? im sorry, y/n, i dont know what i did wrong, but we can talk about it we’re friends, after all…right?

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A/N: So, hi again. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, because I have another surprise for you all hehet. If you are interested in Seonghwa and Hongjoong's story, I can happily tell you that I have created their own spin-off on AO3 and it's called Our Atoms Fusing. It's on-hold currently, but I am happy to announce that I will be picking up writing for that too, and it will have in total around 7~8 parts. So, check it out if interested! ^^ I've kept this a secret for long as I wanted the timing to be right lol, despite the hints I have dropped about them, I am so glad I can finally talk about it. Istg, I'm obsessed with these two, I can't wait to continue their story too! And sorry if there are mistakes, I'm spent lol.

Also, if you happened to notice the mistake I made, no you don't, shhh.

[gurugirl]

Gurugirl's Wattpad & Tumblr Fic Recs

Anything you read in these masterlists won’t disappoint but I’ve picked my absolute favorites from each blog and listed below.

NOTE: I did my best to include all my faves here but I've probably forgotten a few. I intend to add to this list (may need to make a part 2 once I hit my mentions and link limits) because I'm always reading new fics so come back often!

Angst recs (all taken from list below but specific to the more angsty ones)

Daddy kink

Enemies to lovers

Summer vibes & party fics

Personal faves from my own writings

Other blogs I love

Tumblr

@1d1195

One Shot: Right Here: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc.

@a-strange-familiar

Series: His Memories (3 parts): you and Harry broke up few months back but still love each other. And after all these months you see him again in a party. All memories you tried to push back in your head came back with a powerful speed.

@adorebeaa

One shot: Undo Me: YN reveals a kink in front of best friend!Harry, who is curious…

@awideworldoffanfics

Series: Milking the Grip (5 parts): Harry Styles is a single dad who golfs every Tuesday. Y/N is his babysitter who also happens to work at the golf course he goes to. They’ve never run into each other there. Until they do.

@be-with-me-so-happily

Series: My Way Back Home: YN is left to figure out what to do when the love of her life, Harry, does not remember loving her. (AU)

Series: Don't Worry Darling: Y/N has her first big break as an actress as she lands the leading role in 'Don't Worry Darling'. The only problem is that her co-star is Harry Styles, who she feels has a very big ego. Tensions rise the more they film. All kinds of tension...

One Shot: Friendly Favor: When YN's best friend Harry asks for a favor, she knows it'll be difficult, but she loves him too much to say no. However, it's a dumb plan, and those usually don't end how you think they will.

Series: Laceleaf: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

@bopbopstyles

Masterlist (anything you pick here will be a pleasure - seriously)

@fkinavocado

Series: Daddy Issues: in which you’ve got textbook daddy issues and when your tool of a younger brother brings a sweet doe eyed girlfriend home for Thanksgiving and you end up offering her a ride home, you meet just the man to fix them. (daddy!harry, dilf!harry)

Series: Hard Candy: in which Harry owns a candy store and he just loves giving good girls special treats… especially after closing time (candyman!Harry)

One Shots & Blurbs: Long Hair Harry One Shots & Blurbs

@freedomfireflies

Series: Playboy: Welcome to 1965, where the women are loose, and the morals are looser. Here you'll meet Michelle and Harry. You don't need to know too much about them. Just that they're both incredibly bold...and incredibly jealous. The summer of June 1965 was a rather wild one for the Playboy Bunnies but even more wild for our two dear friends. Stick around and I'm sure they'll be happy to tell you all about it. You just have to promise one little thing... Don't tell Hefner.

Series: Teach Me: 5 parts - Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?

Series: Mafia!harry: 2 parts so far - more to come - Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has been a little neglectful of his most prized possession. But he's found the perfect way to make it right. Exhibition kink!!

@goldenbuckyyy

Series: Illicit Affairs: A series of events between your affair with Harry. (Cheating together)

@harryistheonlyoneforme

One Shot: Little Freak: pairing: dbf harry x reader (so hot - so many kinks all in one little shot - must read)

@harrywritingsbyme

Sneaking Around (a series of shorts): Best friends dad - FUCKING HOT

@helladirections

Series: Brother's Best Friend: Harry is YN’s brother’s best friend, and YN isn’t a little kid anymore. Ft. dom/sub, rough sex, and soft words. 

One Shot: Under Summer Skies: Harry and YN are longtime best friends back for another summer as the Dream Team on staff. Featuring getting called out by 12 year olds, two dumb best friends who can’t see what’s right in front of them, and lots of stargazing.

One Shot: Moka Pot: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 

@itslottiehere

One Shot: I Don't Want to Hear About Him (angsty): bff!harry writes a song about bff!reader.. and her boyfriend.

@jawllines

Harry is Y/n's Criminology Instructor (2 parts)

Harry is a single dad and y/n is surprisingly good at babysitting (2 parts)

Harry & y/n are witches, they hate eachother, and something's coming (3 parts)

Y/n knows something she shouldn't and Harry does what on Fridays? (4 parts) - Boxer!harry

Harry is a grumpy mechanic and y/n just can't stop talking (4 parts)

@jarofstyles

King of the Jungle (multi part series): Y/N’s family works for a wildlife preservation society and Harry is king of the jungle or tarzan!harry

Lone Wolf (multi part series): Harry is a grumpy alpha who has given up on finding his mate or werewolf!harry

Beauty & the Beast (multi part series): Harry is a moody, withdrawn but successful creature who needs a companion who can tend to his… needs.

@lemoncrushh

Series: The Entertainer: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones meets Harry Styles, an up and coming musician and soon-to-be rockstar. The Entertainer Part II

One Shot: Dressing For Revenge: Still heartbroken from finding your ex cheating on you, you go to a nightclub with your friend Kelsie, where not only do you run into your ex, but also a handsome gentleman who’s willing to help you get over him. Part II

@lukesaprince

Series: Intruder: You were an outside hire for a promotion Harry wanted, and he despises you for it. The hatred is mutual since Harry is a bit of an asshole, until the day of an important presentation where the tension is finally dealt with - A very steamy enemies to lovers romance (domrry)

Series: The Roommate Series: After Y/N’s best friend and roommate Alex decides to move out, she’s desperate for someone to take her place. Alex seems to have found the solution in a British fresh-to-New-York musician who ticks all the boxes. He just happens to be insanely attractive and charismatic… what could go wrong? (friends to lovers)

Series: Fratboy!harry You Can Pretend All You Want: You hate fratboys and everything they stand for, so you decide to prove one wrong by sleeping with him… safe to say it backfires (fratboy!harry, enemies to lovers).

Series: Rich: Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

@moonchildstyles

Series: Aster: Harry is a tattoo artist and y/n just wants to know if he's like this all the time or if he just doesn't like her. tattoo artist!harry / lhh!harry

Series: Citrine: Harry's a witch and it's been along time since since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he was getting y/n out of his head. witch!harry

Series: Chiaroscuro: y/n needed a job but this place is strange and the owner is even stranger. vampire!harry

Series: Prosecco: Harry is just on the edge of 30 and y/n is someone he's sure he shouldn't get involved with. until she seeks him out anyway, and he realizes no one has ever really shown her how she should be treated. older!harry

@0oolookitsme

One Shot: Dazzled: In which Harry has an uneasy feeling about Y/n’s new mission but the devil ignores his guts’ screams. But the vampire as well as his fiancé, Y/n, isn’t dumb and is quick to listen and take some weight off of his shoulders. They both soon find out, why, he was feeling uneasy. 

One Shot: Anything For You... And I: SMUTTY!!!! Dwd!Harry x Dwd-Character!Y/n

@0nlythrowharrybeaux

Friends Share (2 parts):Harry & Y/N have been practically perfect roommates for several years but the appearance of a hot new neighbor creates an unexpected shift in their relationship.

Unavailable (2 parts): Y/N has a very specific preference for unavailable/inappropriate people and Harry is her therapist who is supposed to help her work through this.

@pleasingforharry

Moans & Elevator Music (2 parts): Y/N is in a rush for an interview at her new job, but her luck gives out when the elevators shut down due to a sudden power outage. At least she isn’t alone.

@purplekiwis

Breaking the Ice (2 parts): Hockey!Harry x Skater!Y/N It’s no secret that as a figure skater, you’re fed up with the local hockey team being treated like royalty… and your ex’s status as a player isn’t helping much either.

In the Witching Hours (will be 3 parts): Wizard!Harry x Witch!Y/N; Soulmates AU An emergency admission to the hospital gives rise to a series of strange events but luckily, there’s a cute, shy wizard around…

One shot: Tentmate: Friends With Benefits Y/N has always hated camping… until her and Harry got stuck together in the same tent. (This one is smutty AF)

@s-brant

Series: The Getaway Car: In a drug deal gone wrong, Y/N, daughter to a famous racecar driver, finds herself behind the wheel of a car with a gun to her head. A masked man named Harry demands she helps him evade the authorities, so she does the only thing she knows how to. She drives.

One Shot: Midas Touch: The night before they leave to spend Christmas with his family, a conversation with their friends makes Harry and Y/N confront the future of their marriage.

@stylesloveclub

Series: Pleasing: In which y/n is a broke waitress, and Harry is a Michelin star chef who thinks she’s cuter than a puppy. 

@swiftmendeshoran

Series: Curvy Secret/No More Secrets Daddy: Dad's best friend (dbf!) Harry x plus size reader

@watchmegetobsessed

Series: The Sun Will Rise: You’re glad to be back at college and away from your family. Everything is back to its normal, but you have a little issue: you told your family you’d bring a date to your sister’s wedding, but you have no actual partner. An unexpected deal is made with the person you couldn’t even consider to be your friend: Harry can take the spare room in your apartment for the semester if he’ll be your date for the wedding. But can you actually live together with a guy who obviously dislikes you and you have no idea why? Can you fool your parents into thinking you’re dating Harry? And what will they think about him? Nothing is ever good enough to them, nothing that’s not as perfect as your sister, Alice.

Series: Wildest Fantasies: You’ve been struggling to finish your assignment for Professor Styles’ Creative Writing class. Inspiration is seem to be avoiding you, so to relieve some stress, you mess around with your roommates and write a rather dirty fiction of the hot professor everyone is into on campus. Due to a fatal mistake however, you end up uploading the wrong file as your attachment to your assignment and your wildest fantasies end up in the hands of the person they are about.

Good Girl (Part 2): sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader

@writerpetals (writes optional male lead smut but you can easily imagine any male *coughharrycough* as the males are described as tall, well-built, with a nice head of hair - read anything this author writes - it's good, you will find almost any trope - ENJOY)

One Shot: Lakeside: werewolf!au, werewolf x reader

@zayndrivesmeinvain

Series (wip): The One That Got Away: In which Harry and Alena were college sweethearts, however, all of that has changed and the only thing keeping in contact is the fact that they have a child together. Is it possible for them to even get to a normal standing friendship or is that long gone? dadrry x oc | single dad!harry

i hit my link limits so was unable to insert link to part one of their series. check out their masterlist and you'll find it!

Wattpad

1-800-TITS = @1800titz (added May 21)

Series: The Devil is a Gentleman: "My name is Eros," the masked male cocks his head a smidge at her, and, if only slightly through the shadow casts between the parted zipper, Isla catches sight of a smile tugging at his lips on the latter fragment of his statement, "But you already know that. I'd hope, anyways. We've had a chat. Or two." His lips - his mouth. Isla ogles the latex through the peepholes of her own and wonders what shape the rest of his features take, what carves and forges his face, how his nose slopes, the assemblage of it all. "I think I recall, vaguely," she teases. "Mm. Vaguely. I'll take note of that. Well, although we are acquainted," Eros smooths his fingertips over the arm of the chair, a lavish facade of plastic masquerading. The latter fragment of his statement prompts the steady bump of her heart to spur behind her ribcage. "You will address me as Master." Isla swallows. Despite her prior train of thought looping so intently on the tracks to decipher what she believes he'd look like beneath his mask, it's entirely derailed by the serious note in his previously light cadence. She wonders how a mere introduction manages to send such a thrilling rush rolling down her spine. Eros leans forward, forearms braced to his splayed thighs, almost as if to bend to her level. "Or Sir. Master, Sir, it's all the same to me. Your preference." OR the one in which there's a sex club, Greek stage names, the exploration of boundaries, an open house, a pair of dress shoes, and two sides of the same coin.

_miiki

Series: Artwork & Aquarelle: "Sierra, you go with Harry Styles." I raised up my head at the words, giving my teacher an incredulous glance. "Do I really have to?" Was the only thing I managed to say. The teacher gave me an annoyed look. "Did you not understand? You go with Harry Styles." I turned my head to look at him. At the mention of his name he glanced up, and if his green eyes hadn't frozen me in place already, the unimpressed look he gave me would've done it right away.

Aggressivelyfriendly = @aggresivelyfriendly

Series: Who Names the Colors: In the last year, Joanne Smith Giles, has once again become Jo Smith. In another heartbreaking turn of events, she's also the single mother of an infant, again. She knows she can do this on her own, and better at 40 than 19, but it seems weird to be launching a son into manhood, a new career as an art professor, and changing nappies all in one day. She is so thankful when Ethan, her boy, comes home from Uni. Jo could use the help. His best friend, Harry, comes round too. And his launch into manhood may be another heartbreaking turn, for all of them

ErinAlterEgo = @yourwattpadmom

Series: Late night Talking: Alex is craving something at night, and it's not ice cream. Encouraged by her husband to explore a polyamory relationship to meet some of her more....eclectic tastes, she finds herself on a dating app for the first time in her life. She expected maybe some interesting experiences, possibly her first one-night stand ever. She didn't expect to meet a man who made her question everything about herself. Harry is on a new path in his life that is exciting and different than he ever could have imagined. He's looking for excitement, experiences, but definitely not love and attachment. When he meets Alex, he sees a whole new path that he's unsure he wants to go down, but finds it hard to resist.

Hitterj (love all of her stuff!)

Series: All This Time: The coming-of-age story of Harry and Riley who have known each other for years, but never actually knew each other. They've spent countless nights at the same parties, shared a few drinks and glances, they're even on track to graduate top of their class. What happens when out of nowhere they start to connect? Like an invisible string pulls them together, so they can experience life and love and heartbreak. Riley and Harry learn a lot about themselves, and ultimately have to choose what's best for their future no matter how difficult that can be. But does love find a way? After all this time?

Series: Kiwi: If you don't know about this one by now... go read it - super duper smutty and sweet and angsty

Series: Sweet Little Lies: All her life, Ivy Malone has known what her family was. She grew up in the deep, unforgiving world of the mob. Ivy hates her position in life, knowing that her life was never fully hers. Harry Styles was cold. He trusted almost no one, especially his family. He had learned quickly that everyone was waiting for him to fail... to fall. An empire built by his father from the blood and bones of those who stepped in his way was all he had, no matter how much he hated it. He had no choice but to carry on the legacy. And marrying Malone's daughter was the next step in fortifying their defense. With new rivals making a move for power and a mysterious figure haunting the crime families of Queenstown, Ivy and Harry have to learn to live together. A bad start leads them down a tumultuous, passionate, and downright dangerous path, but maybe they were exactly what the other needed to live the life they always craved.

MysteryMixtapes (Just go read all their stuff)

Series: Stall & Stall 2: Violence/gangs/dark

Series: Perspective: Have you ever met someone that made falling feel like flying?

Series: Unforgettable: "If it feels so right, how can it be wrong?"

Peanutboyfriend (read all of Birdie's stuff - you won't regret it)

Series: Aerial: In Malibu, California in 1965, a surfer and world-famous aerialist undergoes a chain of comedic and not-so-comedic mishaps that force him to re-evaluate who he is.

Petit_cerise

Series: Devil's Due & Devil's Desire: Harry Styles, the brooding and intolerable tattoo parlour owner, meets River, a stubborn and somewhat oblivious girl, who just doesn't understand the reasoning behind his nefarious ways but is determined to find out. River comes to realize that Harry's hiding something much deeper than expected... only once those secrets come to the surface, it's too late to turn back.

Sunflowersnstuff

Series: One Word & Wonderland: We're all mad here, it's Wonderland.

ThousandYearsOfHope

Series: Lonely Nights: Willow Mackey is a quiet girl, but she is fiercely loyal and will never lie to you. Harry Styles is her brother's best friend, and someone she'll always have a soft spot for. Grown up and no longer shielded by their ages, lines start to blur, and mistakes keep being made. For the first time in her life, Willow realises that sometimes, the truth is too painful to hear. But how could she ever say no to the one person that's always understood her better than she understands herself?

Series: Pretty Boy: One night of impulse shouldn't lead to much for Joni Lewis, but when she meets the alluring Harry Styles, an opportunity arises that she can't ignore. A Harry Styles short story inspired by Pretty Woman.

Writhali (I really like everything I've read by Thali)

Series: Ambit: Gangs/violence/action/SMUT - "Hell's boring, Birdie." He claims, that cold, dead stare back to his eyes. "And this, this is what I call a Monday night."

[rednotebooksworld]

Character Info: Pike ~ Deer Hybrid

A/n: I like hybrids but I rarely see deer hybrids so I’m making one of my own

*NSFW under ‘read more’ tab*

<======>

Summary:

In the deep forest, a forest guardian with tough and tall antlers resides. Pike, a deer hybrid is a prince of his part of the forest and that came with huge responsibilities. You, lived in a town outside of the deep woods in lived in and it was an unexpected meeting when you wandered in his forest out of pure curiosity

SFW

—pike is more of a prince in his part of the forest but still a guardian nonetheless {bros got a bambi like backstory lol}

—pike is naturally curious about new things, human society fascinates him to some degree, so meet you, was like a blessing in disguise

—he is a bit of a short boi, but makes up for it with his antlers and ability to keep his forest safe from harm

—pike is very kind soul, he gets that from his father; the guardian before him. He likes being protective and with a human in the forest such as yourself, he’ll do everything in his powers to keep you safe

—he tries to avoid violence though willing to defend himself and others against an instigator

—he knows a lot about plants and such; teaches about plants what’s good and bad

^you accidentally tried to eat a poisonous mushroom and he just smacked it out of your hand and scolds you (definitely the mom type)

—he has introduced you to his herd; mostly the does and the fawns of the herd

^honestly he doesn’t trust the other males around you, he’s touch bit possessive

NSFW

—pike never had a mate in his lifetime even as a guardian like his father before him, it’s not like he wasn’t interested just never had the time

—though meeting you changed that, mostly his sex drive

—his sex drive went from 0 to 10 real quick, he’s kinda embarrassed by it but he’s so in love with you and he can tell it doesn’t bother you since you seem to enjoy it 😏

—that being said, pike is kinda vanilla, but he’s tied you up with vines before so bondage is always on the table for him

—pike’s a soft lover, he gives you praises and compliments

^“you’re such a pretty being, my precious princess~”

—he likes when you grab his antlers or even touch them while you have sex, that’s kinda why he enjoys eating you out, so you grab onto his antlers

—his size, well his cock is not that girthy and it’s pretty average length

—pike is very dominant especially around spring time or mating season; his herd is gave their prince usually looks when the sweet little human that’s been around was with him but they also can’t help but be happy

—he has a lot of stamina, since he’s still somewhat human but his deer half adds to his stamina; 2-3 rounds at most

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Part Two - JJK Men And Reader With A Sensitive Clit

�� Warnings: Mentions of trauma, sexual themes, clit and vaginal fingering, oral sex, use of toys

♥ Summary: Reader with a sensitive clit. What will our men do to work around this?

♥ Featuring: Geto

♥ Word Count: 1653

♥ A/N: This was originally supposed to be part of the first post but I was struggling to write out the scenario. And looking back, this one on it's own is longer than the other two combined! Well, hope ya'll like seeing soft Geto. Geto Masterlist Reader with a senstive clit part 1

Geto

There’s no question that Geto loves eating you out. Man could spend eternity between your legs, making you cum over and over until you’re begging for mercy. Both of you put in a lot of effort to keep each other satisfied.

Which is why when he pulls out a vibrator one day, you look at him hesitantly. You’ve hated toys. All your previous boyfriends would set it on the highest mode and hold it against you, almost bored, waiting for your orgasm. Your entire pussy would feel sore and not in a good way. You wince as the memory comes back to you. 

“I got it for you. What do you think?”

“What are you planning on doing with that?”

Geto sees your nerves and sets the toy down. “I thought you might enjoy it. Didn’t you say you wanted to try edging one of these days?”

“With your mouth, Geto. Or even your fingers. Not with a vibrator.” Your legs snap closed, leaving him looking perplexed.

“Ok, I’m missing something here. I thought you’d be stoked.”

“I don’t like toys. Did I ever ask you to buy one?”

“No, but-”

“No buts. I hate them. End of story.”

“May I ask why?”

Your voice dies in your throat as you remember how uninterested your past lovers were when it came to using toys. They saw it as a means to get out of doing any other foreplay, and only seemed to want to give you the most basic orgasm in the least amount of time. You would cum of course, but it was a very half-felt orgasm, your clit barely fluttering from the disappointing roughness of the vibrator. 

“They just don’t feel good to me. I don’t like the high settings. It’s too much and I get too little in return.”

“And why would I use the high setting if you don’t like it?”

“Because it takes too long for me to cum from the low setting.”

Geto now looks positively bewildered. “Too long? Are you telling me you use the high setting, which you don’t like, because the lower ones which you do like, take too much time?”

When he says it out loud, you hear how ridiculous it sounds. You shake your head, trying not to feel ashamed. “I just… haven’t had good experiences with toys. They feel too harsh and my orgasm isn’t that great with them.”

“Is it because you’ve never tried a low setting before?”

“I don’t want to give up foreplay for the sake of using a vibrator.”

Geto’s eyebrows raise, almost lost in his hairline at your words. “Why would you not get foreplay if we’re using a vibrator?”

You pause, unsure how to answer his question. “I don’t want to talk about it. It’s a stupid thing that happened long ago.”

Geto sighs at your tone. “Ok. So you’re not even a little curious at how this would feel after foreplay, at a low setting?”

The look on his face makes you want to kiss him all over. He’s been very patient and adjusting with you, and you don’t know how to put it into words, your trepidation over using a vibrator. 

“Can we just test it out at a low setting? If you really hate it, I’ll never bring it up again.”

You still look hesitant and he draws you against him, fingers stroking your bare back. “I promise to be gentle. And when have I ever skimped out of foreplay? Miss an opportunity to make my girl feel good before slipping her my cock?”

A heavy blush settles over your face and you playfully smack his shoulder. “Fine. But if I hate it, I get oral whenever I want. No matter the time or day.”

“And how is this any different from what we currently do?” He tenderly rubs your reddened cheeks and chuckles at the small squeak you make. 

“Let me make you feel good…”

He begins with an open mouthed kiss, capturing your lips with his, his tongue mixing with yours, while his large hands stroked your body, coming down the sides of your arms, back up over your shoulders, and down to your breasts, cupping and squeezing the mounds of flesh, thumbs resting on the center of your nipples and nudging them in circles until you whine into his mouth. 

Geto lowers his head, trailing wet kisses over your skin before taking one of your aching tips into his mouth, tongue fondling against it, pulling with his lips while your hands curl into his long hair, moaning, feeling wetness gather between your legs.

When he finally parts them, the soft labia are slick and swollen with arousal, the little bud pulsing as he spreads the moist folds. He presses his nose in between and inhales deeply, that tangy, sweet scent making him harden even more. 

“Geto…” You whimper, feeling the tip of his nose just a little south of where you need it to be. 

“Patience now…I promised I’d edge you this time…and we’re going to do it in more than one way…”

A moan leaves your lips as his tongue swirls over your clit, softly lapping at it. He knows to use it flat to cover the whole bud as it pulses and throbs. 

“Geto… Ngh…” Your legs almost close but he grips your knees to keep them open. Every soft lick against your clit brings you closer to the edge. When you feel the small spasms become more predictable and a particularly pleasurable throb courses through you, you grip the sheets. You seem to have forgotten the whole point and Geto pulls away an inch, watching your core spasm as he takes away his mouth. 

It takes a second for you to realize what's happening and you try to inch down back to him. Geto chuckles, the vibration falling just short of your pussy. 

“I never skimp on foreplay my dear. “ A second later, you hear the soft buzzing of the vibrator and the clicking of buttons as he turns it on to the lowest setting, the buzzing getting softer with each click. 

You stay still but feel your heart beat a little faster at the sound. “Geto…”

Without realizing it you're grasping the sheets again but not in the same way as you were before. His warm, large hand holds yours, loosening your tension on the sheet, entwining your fingers together. 

“It's all right doll,”he says reassuringly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

You close your eyes, waiting for him to spread you apart and place the vibrator on your clit. However, he runs it along your thigh, teasing, then along the edges of the outer lips, letting the soft vibrations affect your core. 

There's a moment where you pause, considering. It wasn't unpleasant, not even harsh. But it wasn't on your clit yet. You wait… Then gasp in surprise as he tilts the tip of the vibrator to go over to the fatty side, pressing the flesh with the toy and pushing over your bud. The vibrations were pleasantly muted yet stimulating and…Enjoyable? 

You shiver softly as the toy does its job on the lowest setting. Geto brings his mouth to yours for a kiss, swallowing your little noises of delight. His wrist starts to move the toy in circles over your lips, clit nestled in between. The soft buzzing fills the air and you start to buck your hips against the ministrations. 

It was deliciously slow, and you could feel yourself starting to relax and take delight in the way it felt, his hand movements bringing you to peak closer and closer… You let out a lewd sound… And he pulls it away. 

A sound of frustration leaves your lips and you look at him. Geto looks back with a smug look on his face. “I thought you didn't like toys,” he teased. 

Your face burns and your body is filled with heat, pussy swollen with need, core leaking and desperate for something more. Geto places his palm over your sex, cooing at you, making soothing noises to calm you down from your ruined orgasm. Once he’s certain, the buzzing starts again, and this time he runs the vibrator over your still hard nipples, the sensation not enough to make you needy but enough to make you give him a look of irritation. 

It just amuses him, before he runs it back down between your breasts, then over the fold of fat...Your eyes roll back into your head as you rest against the pillow, feet planted on the bed and whine. It’s still on the lowest setting possible and you were unwilling to admit it but it felt good. 

A gasp leaves you as one of Geto’s thick fingers enters your slick heat. Combined with the vibrator, it almost felt like he was trying to tease the orgasm out of you rather than build it up. Your core flutters, wet heat gathering as your body is slowly pushed to the edge. He inserts a second finger, tips curling up into that little patch inside you that has your hips snapping forward. 

“Fuck…Geto…” You manage to choke out, teeth clenched. 

“Are you close?”

You nod breathlessly, praying he wouldn’t stop this time. Your mouth keeps making the most wanton sounds as he pleasures you.

“Should I just let you cum this time? Make the edging a little longer next time?”

It takes all the effort in your being to nod once more. So close…

“Let it happen then…”

Your eyes squeeze closed as an intense orgasm grips you, muscles clenching and fluttering with delight, sobbing at the pleasure. When it starts to calm down, Geto switches off the vibrator and comes up to stroke your hair.

“Well?”

You look at him and roll your eyes. 

“Ok, it wasn’t that bad.”

His delighted laugh carries through the room as he starts preparing you for another round. 

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[swiftsdelucaa]

Mark Sloan x reader who is best friends with Meredith. They secretly get together a few weeks after he arrives in Seattle. A few months later she starts to feel sick and Meredith asks her if she could be pregnant. She recognizes she might be and takes a test. It comes out positive. She freaks out and Meredith calms her down. Meredith still doesn't know about her and Mark so she keeps begging the reader to tell her who the father is. This goes on for a few days, with a few friends joining in on the questioning. She hasn't told Mark yet though. During one of these conversations, Mark overhears them and drops the files he's holding. He goes to the reader and says “We're having a baby?” with a huge smile on his face. She nods and he hugs and kisses her. Meanwhile, those listening in are completely shocked because nobody saw that coming. Please?

❛ 𝑻𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Mark Sloan x Pregnant!reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: This was very specific ahah, hope you'll like it anon!

You rushed into the locker room, hoping you weren't late, luckily they were all still there.

"Where were you?" you have been warmly welcomed by your group.

"I was- I've just- well now I'm here" you took off your shirt starting to get ready, without adding details about your horrible morning.

"Oh the girl has a secret lover" Cristina said. You ignored her. "Maybe Jackson knows something more" she continued.

"What the hell are you saying?" he looked at her confused as he finished getting dressed.

"Wait, Jackson?!" April added in a worried tone.

"Kepner calm down" Lexie said to her.

"Okay stop, there isn't any secret lover anywhere" you said shutting up everyone.

A few minutes later everyone had already left, except Meredith, she was waiting for you. You were sitting on one of the benches staring into space.

"Y/n, are you okay?" the blonde sat next to you putting a hand on your shoulder.

"Umh, yeah..." you stood up to get ready to join the others, but just before you went to the door you stopped feeling the urge to throw up.

"Oh hey" Meredith got up quickly to help you. "Oh my God, are you pregnant?"

"What?" you recovered while she accompanied you to the bathroom to rinse your face.

"So?" Meredith's curious voice interrupted your stillness. You looked at her as if to ask where she was getting at, and a smile appeared on her face. "You're pregnant, aren't you?" she asked again.

Actually you didn't know what to answer her, it could be possible.

"I... don't know..." you said confused.

"Okay, stay here, I'm going to get a test" she rushed out to find one, the hospital definitely had one.

Meanwhile you sat down for a moment. How would Mark react? I mean, you'd been dating for a few months now and no one knew about it, but you had no idea what he would think about the idea of having a baby.

"Okay, here's!" Meredith came back suddenly making you scare. You took the test without thinking twice, anxiety was starting to rise. One day you would have thought about having baby and starting a family, but one day... now it would have been challenging, the residency was already giving you enough stress. But that day had come sooner than you thought, what the test said was clear.

You came out of the bathroom where Meredith was waiting for you.

"Positive?" you answered her by nodding and she jumped up to come towards you.

"Are we happy?" she asked you tried to hold back her excitement.

"I-" anxiety began to take over. "I'm just starting out, how do I handle all this? It's a miracle I can remember my keys when I go out, I don't have the responsibility like a good mother would have!" you were about to freak out.

"Ok, you're panicking, calm down" Meredith made you sit back on the bench. "You will have time for your baby, when you see him he'll become the only thing that matters to you, and well then you will become more responsible too… I hope" you let out a small laugh.

"You're right" you managed to come to your senses, while a huge smile was created on your face. "I'm gonna have a baby!" you exclaimed realizing the situation.

"Yeah!" Meredith literally choked you trying to hug you.

"Wait, so you really have a secret lover?" she asked more curious. You weren't ready to tell her, but you couldn't deny it, because the baby was there and he certainly couldn't have created on his own. "Oh my God is really Jackson?!"

"What? No!" she wouldn't even leave you alone for a second until you told her who the father was. For now you used the excuse of going back to work to get out of the way, but you should have thought of something else in the future. Even if she sooner or later she would find out.

During the day you managed to find a moment for yourself, alone to rest in one of the call rooms, when you then heard the sound of the door opening.

"We had the same idea" you got out of bed having recognized the voice.

"Hey" you approached Mark to kiss him. He smiled at you as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You look happy" he told you.

"I am" you kept looking at him smiling. You were so torn between telling him or waiting, but your pager preceded all your thoughts.

"Fuck, I'm sorry I have to..."

"I know" he gave you one last little kiss to greet you, you looked at him one last time before leaving. Yes, you would have waited.

Meanwhile, as these weeks went by, the thing that annoyed you and made difficult to go on the most wasn't the early pregnancy symptoms, but Meredith. God, you didn't think she could get this annoying. She wanted to know at all costs who the father of the baby was, sometimes you just wanted to disappear from the world for this. Yeah well, you would have done the same thing in her side, but it was so frustrating.

"Please Y/n, I won't say to anyone, you can trust me!" at one point you stopped to think about it. She was important to you, your lives depended on each other, telling her wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Okay... I have someone here in this hospital..." you sighed before revealing his name. "It's Mark"

"Mark Sloan?!" she repeated raising her eyebrows almost in shock.

"Yes, Mark and I are having a baby!" you repeated too, still almost incredulous.

"Are we going to have a baby?" you whipped around behind you at hearing her voice as he dropped the file he was holding. This wasn't exactly the moment you wanted him to know, so you looked at him nodding.

"Oh my God Y/n!" he approached you embracing you tightly, even managing to convey to you all the happiness he felt at that moment, then he began to kiss you intensely, not caring about the people who were around there. You wouldn't expected this reaction but you were so happy.

"I love you Y/n" at that moment all those hormones could have made you cry.

"I love you too Mark" you went back to kissing him. Meredith was smiling at you from behind, while everyone was completely paralyzed by the news.

"Y/n's having a baby?"

"Sloan's having a baby??"

"Wait, Mark and Y/n are together?!" Cristina, Lexie, Jackson and April were there wondering and unable to grasp the whole situation.

"Why is no one working in this fucking hospital?" you said confused and annoyed that they found out it too like this.

"Don't care about it, we'll be the best family in the world" he put his hand on your cheek to caress you as your foreheads rested against each other.

[mumms-the-word]

Ascension, Return

Pairing: Gale x You (Reader POV) Summary: You watch as Gale restores the Crown of Karsus and temporarily becomes a god before disappearing to return the crown to Mystra. And you can only hope, now that he is a god, that he will return. ao3 link A/N: I was thinking the other day about how in the ending for an Origin run for Gale, regardless of how he plans to deal with the crown business, he always shows up as God!Gale in front of Mystra before agreeing to hand over the crown or deciding to stay a god. And it got me thinking...wouldn't a romanced Tav who is expecting him to give up the crown see him ascend? So anyway I wrote this to get those thoughts out there. As usual pic of my Tav Dani because I keep forgetting to ask to borrow people’s better pictures

It doesn’t take long for you and Gale to make plans to retrieve the crown from the depths of the Chionthar River. The sooner you get this over with, the better, you think, and yet something about this endeavor has you on edge. You secretly wish you can just leave the crown down below the waters…but then, anyone could get it down there, with the right spells or the right technology. You can’t risk that.

You don’t want it in Mystra’s hands either, but what choice do you have? She, at least, is a goddess interested in balance, neither evil like the Dead Three, nor entirely good and thus subject to extreme corruption. There’s no telling what she’ll do with the crown, but she has offered one thing in exchange—a cure for your lover’s affliction.

He’ll be free of the dark hungering orb at last.

It’s enough to convince you. You retrieve your worn bedrolls from the Elfsong and shoulder your pack, ready for your next little adventure—a small boat ride to the other side of the river, and a few days spent with Gale as he searches the murky waters.

You join him on the banks of the Chionthar, well away from the bustle of the city as it is trying to rebuild, watching over him as he sits, eyes glazed with concentration, guiding simulacrums to walk the riverbeds and floors of the river, combing through the mud for the crown. He could have let his simulacrums search without him guiding them, but he wants to be sure, to search closely. He doesn’t want to waste his time turning away simulacrums who bring back scraps of metal, shrapnel from the Iron Throne, or bits from the carnage of the fight against the Netherbrain. So he looks through their eyes, seeing nothing for hours but hazy water, mud, and river plants.

Though you long to lie back and watch the sails of fishing vessels drift by like clouds on the breeze, reveling in a hard-won moment of peace, you don’t want to miss a moment where he might need you. You do not want him to be caught unawares by some curious animal, or worse, a lingering enemy. So you sit and watch, your stomach twisting into knots as you face what you know will be inevitable—the moment when he finally finds the crown.

It takes all of two days of searching. After hours upon hours of looking, he stiffens, his physical body reacting to something beyond your sight, and you know at last that he has found it. You both stand as his simulacrum emerges, dripping water, with the cold bronze of the crown in its hands. 

The Crown of Karsus.

It’s so much smaller than you remember. When you faced it on the top of the Netherbrain it had easily been the size of a large carriage. Here, on the banks of the Chionthar, it’s no bigger than a normal crown. It looks innocent. Harmless.

But you know better.

The power it releases…you are no stranger to it. You readily recall the metallic taste on your tongue as you drew near it atop the Netherbrain and the way its very aura tried to drive you to your knees. Its power is weaker now, pulsating from the bronze metal like a faint heartbeat, but you know that it won’t stay that way.

You glance at Gale, wondering what you’ll see in his face. Dark hunger, perhaps, or something bittersweet. Reluctance, dread, or tired resignation. But his expression is surprisingly neutral. He doesn’t step forward to take the crown just yet. Instead, he studies it with his eyes before taking a deep breath through his nose and turning to look at you.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

You blink, a little taken aback. “Of course,” you say. “Always.”

“That’s gratifying to hear. It will take me some time to restore the crown and the Netherstones to their original state, fit enough to give to Mystra. The process will be necessarily delicate, given the orb I carry. I should ask you to keep a safe distance. A city’s worth of space, perhaps, just in case, but—”

You cross your arms. “I’m not leaving your side, Gale. I’m here with you, for good or ill.”

He smiles then, as much relieved as he is amused and resigned. “I know. I expected as much. But I thought it best to offer or warn you regardless.” He takes a deep breath. “Very well, then. We stay together. I just hope you’ll be patient with me.”

You reach out and take his hand, threading your fingers between his. “I will be. I’m here for you. Take all the time you need, my love.”

He gives you a grateful look, squeezing your hand affectionately before leaning in to brush a sweet, gentle kiss against your lips. You let him pull away, slipping out of reach, and watch with bated breath as he steps forward to accept the crown, the mark on his chest glowing brighter and brighter as he nears and finally takes the crown in his hands.

You don’t know what you expect. A light show, perhaps. A wave of dark, Netherese magic, or a black hole effect. You steel yourself to the fear that he will simply evaporate or fall to his knees in pain.

But nothing spectacular happens, aside from his mark glowing brightly. To your eyes, the crown acts as little more than a normal crown. To him…

You see his chest expand with a deep breath, the orb flaring brighter, watch him blow the air slowly through his lips, his face tense. But without the tadpole in your heads, you can’t guess at what he’s thinking or feeling. He closes his eyes, simply breathing, concentrating. Fighting, perhaps. Wrestling with some unseen force. The glow on his chest dims slowly until it is only a faint purple tint on his skin. Only then does he finally tighten his hold on the crown and turn back to you.

You get the sense that he has just won a silent, unseen battle within himself. It occurs to you too late that putting the crown and the orb in close proximity might actually hurt him. But it seems that the danger has passed...for now. If he’s in pain, he isn’t showing it.

“Come,” he says. “Let us make sure we’re a safe distance from the city. Just in case.”

His words don't inspire confidence, but you say nothing. You merely follow him back to your camp further up hillside. You know he has work to do.

———

You give him time. That’s all he asked for. Time to concentrate on the magic. Time to manipulate threads of the Weave. The Mystran Weave and the Karsite Weave. Sometimes you think you understand what he’s doing, but more often than not, you don’t. The magic he is performing is beyond your comprehension, guided by notes in the Annals of Karsus which lays open in front of him. You suspect some of it comes innately to him, an understanding born from carrying Netherese magic for so long. The rest must come from Karsus himself, written down as instructions or incantations. You give up trying to understand and simply make yourself useful. Or you try to, anyway.

All you can really do is linger nearby, keeping an eye out for anything that might interrupt his work. You barely interrupt him yourself, save to place some food and water near him with a soft reminder that he needs to eat to keep his energy up. He’s not a god yet, you tease, but the words taste sour on your tongue.

Yet. But soon.

You don’t feel ready for it. You know it’ll only be temporary. You hope so, anyway. But you’re still not ready.

The day passes by without you noticing. Gale sits with the crown, working, weaving, an illuminated aura around him filled with heavy magic. You leave him to his work as the sun moves slowly overhead toward the horizon, painting the sky in tones of orange, red, and purple. You lay down to watch the swirls of violet and indigo magic that gather around him as night falls, until in your exhaustion, you close your eyes for a moment to rest.

You don’t know when you drifted off to sleep, but you’re awoken in the early hours of the morning by his hand on your shoulder. You stir, blinking groggily up at him.

“It’s time,” he says softly. He helps you sit up, hands lingering on your arms, your hands. The crown isn’t with him, but sits on top of his pack several feet away. “I’ve done all I can. The stones and the crown are together again. Functionally the crown is complete, but…there is one last step I need to take.”

He kneels in front of you, dark eyes searching your face in the dim firelight. No, you realize. Memorizing. You feel a sudden knot in your throat and though you are seated safely on the ground, it feels as though a yawning void is opening up around you, threatening to swallow you whole should you tip too far to one side.

This feels like a goodbye.

“Once I put on the crown, the magic of the orb will finally combine with that of the crown. And I will…change,” he explains quietly, while you try to calm the surge of fear that grips your heart. “The magic of the crown and orb will become one and give me the power at last to meet with Mystra as an equal.”

An equal. He doesn’t say as a god. But you both know the truth.

You can scarcely breathe. You want to trust him. You want so desperately to believe in him. And he is looking at you so lovingly, but the very air seems tinged with sorrow. Nothing is certain. Nothing save his love for you, and even then, the tiniest doubt worms its way into your head and your heart.

Once he is a god…will he even remember to come back to you?

“And then?” you ask, your voice no more than a whisper.

“And then…I will hand the crown over to Mystra. And hope she keeps her word.”

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I trust you, my love.” You use the words, saying them out loud, to dispel your doubts and fears. You do trust him. With your life, with your heart, with your all.

If only you could trust Mystra. Can she be trusted to cure him? Can she be trusted to let him return? And if he does return, can she be trusted to let him return unchanged? Chosen or not, will he still be Gale Dekarios, the man you love? You don’t know. But you hope so.

He smiles at you and brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek, his fingertips trailing along the line of your jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He leans in for a kiss and you, selfishly, wrap your arms around him and hold him tightly to you as your lips move against his, wanting to never let go. You rise to your knees, following him as he tries to pull away, kissing him deeply, tangling your fingers in his hair, until at last you are both breathless and you have to hide your face in his shoulder. You cling to him, reluctant to let him go just yet.

“Just come back to me,” you whisper. “Whatever happens.”

His arms tighten around you and you feel the bob of his throat as he swallows with difficulty. He strokes your hair and your back, pressing little kisses to your shoulder, your neck, your head. You can feel it in every touch and breath he takes. He doesn’t want to let go yet either. 

“I will, my love,” he whispers back. “I swear it.”

It’s enough for now. It has to be. You could delay this day for a thousand days and still never be ready to let him go. But you have to. If he wants to be whole again, free of the orb, perhaps even free of Mystra…he has to do this.

You reluctantly loosen your hold on him and sit back on your heels, meeting his dark-eyed gaze in the early hours of the morning. He takes your hands and lifts them to his lips, brushing kisses against your knuckles, turning your hands over to kiss the center of your palms. Each touch of his lips to your skin is a reverent confession of love and longing and it only makes your heart ache more.

Please don’t let this be goodbye.

“Wait for me,” he says.

You cradle his cheek in your hand, gazing earnestly at him, soaking in every detail of his handsome face, committing it all to memory. “I will, my love. I swear it.”

He smiles at you then, full of love and happiness. He steals one last kiss from your lips before finally pulling away and standing, taking several steps back.

You stand too, preparing yourself for what is about to happen, even though you scarcely have any idea. You expect some of what you expected before, with light shows and waves of magic at best, disintegration and death at the worst, but now it feels even more real. Even more likely. You don’t know what will happen, so you brace yourself for the worst, heart pounding in your throat, gut churning with dread, and hope, desperately hope, for the best, even though you don’t know what that will look like.

You hold your breath as he moves several paces away from you and bends to pick up the crown. This image, too, you commit to memory. The way he looks illuminated by the firelight, the lights of the city glimmering behind and below him, the stars glittering above him. The sight of him with the crown in his hands, contemplating it with an expression of deep gravity. The crown looks small and harmless, despite the sharp curls and the soft glow of the purple, orange, and pink Netherstones that are now set once more in the bronze. But he looks serious, regal even, with it cradled in his hands. Like a king mulling over the weight of his position and the choices that lay ahead. He is beautiful. Heart-achingly beautiful. You wish this moment could stretch on forever, if only because it means not losing him to the crown. To godhood.

He turns to give you one last lingering look, your eyes meeting over the distance between you, before he slowly raises the crown to his head and settles it over his brown and gray locks.

The effect is instantaneous. A blast of magic blows outward from him, kicking up wind and dust and flashing bright enough to rival the sun. You cover your eyes, shielding your face, the light blinding you. Suddenly the air feels electric, tasting of metal and ozone, as though you’re about to be struck by lightning at any second. Wind swirls around you, picking up speed, a cyclone of power and magic with you caught in the edges. You struggle to stay on your feet, your body resisting the pull into the vortex. What little you can see is naught but a haze of magic, purple, blue, and inky black, rushing around you and mixing with the wind. Threads of blue and silver lightning dance around you, passing close enough to make your hair stand on end, shocking you when you take an unsteady step backward. The vortex of wind, lightning, and magic threatens to suck the very air from your lungs until, with crack like thunder, everything around you stops.

The air grows still. It is as though you suspended in time. Held fast by magic. Your ears are ringing with the sudden silence.

You cautiously lower your hand. You have to blink a few times for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, the sight of Gale causes a flurry of emotions within you.

He stands before you as something…more. A god in all but name. He’s taller, you swear he must be, or else his very presence makes him seem bigger. His skin has turned a shade of hard silver, his hair ashen gray. The mark of the orb stands out in stark black on his chest and when he turns his head to examine his hands, his body, you see splintered blue lightning crackling at his temples and down the sides of his face. His brown eyes now glow blue-white with magic, any trace of his former warmth consumed by the light of the power within him. He’s striking, awe-inspiring…

And you can’t help but fear him, just a little. 

On instinct you have the compulsion to kneel, but you don’t. You force yourself to stay on your feet and look at him, really look at him, and try to find the man you love behind this new godly veneer. He has to be in there somewhere. He has to be.

“Amazing,” he murmurs, and his voice is layered two or three times over with a strange echo, one that gives you unpleasant shivers. Even his voice carries tiny waves of power. You already miss the warm tones of his mortal voice with its Waterdhavian accent.

He flexes his hands, raising them before his face, his expression one of wonder and awe. With but a gesture, he summons threads of the Weave together in glyphs and effects you can barely make sense of, though you feel the thrum of magic deep in your chest and know, instinctively, that he is capable of snapping your mind with a thought or destroying you with a word. He smiles, and the effect is strange. He looks like himself but he doesn’t. Something about it seems wrong to you. Uncanny. Familiar and unfamiliar.

The pit of dread in your stomach grows.

But then he catches sight of you, waiting, watching breathlessly, nervously, hoping that he’ll remember his promise to you. His smile fades and for the briefest moment you catch a glimpse of the man you love. Even his blue-white eyes, shining eerily from his familiar face, can’t hide the love he has for you.

He lowers his hands to his sides. “It is done. The crown is fully restored once more.”

You nod. You haven’t the faintest clue what to say next. You’re still trying to make sense of the man-god before you.

He smiles again, and something about it is both patronizing, as though he pities you for not understanding, and sincere, an echo of his mortal kindness and patience. He presses a hand to his chest. “Well, I’d best be off then.”

“Wait—” You reach out as if to stop him and he pauses. Your hand hovers uncertainly in the air before you lower it to your side. "One last kiss, before you go. Please."

His smile softens. "I can deny you nothing, my love," he murmurs. He crosses the distance between you with a strange grace he didn't have before. Before he was elegant, but at times a little awkward. None of the awkwardness remains in him now.

You look up as he stops in front of you, his fingers curling beneath your chin the way he does when he wants to lift your face or guide your lips to his. You stare into his glowing eyes a moment before letting your eyes flutter closed. His lips touch yours...and it's different.

There's a magnetism there now that wasn't there before. You seem drawn in as if by gravity. He tastes of metal and magic, his skin cold but not unyielding. Your lips tingle with each kiss and the moment you seek to deepen the kiss—you gasp as a blue electric shock drives your mouths apart, your teeth practically rattling, your lips suddenly hot, almost burned. You press a hand to your mouth, looking up at him in shock, but he's just as surprised as you are. He seems unharmed, despite the tiny sparks of white-blue lightning still skittering over his lips.

"Ah...what an interesting side effect," he says, touching his hand to his mouth. The lightning calms. "Are you all right?"

You nod, rubbing your lips lightly as the numbness from the shock begins to subside and the tingling begins to fade. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't unpleasant either. Still, you're wary of trying it again.

He watches you, looking torn, before a new resolve settles his features. "Then I suppose that is my signal to go. The sooner I depart, the sooner I can return." He takes your hand carefully, moving it away from your face, and presses a cautious kiss to the back of your hand. His lips impart another, smaller shock to your skin, but this time you're ready for it. Your fingertips go a little numb, but you manage not to wince.

"Wait for me, my love," he says, finally letting go of your hand. "I won’t be long."

You step back, giving him room to do whatever he needs to do, and watch as he begins to glow, brighter than your eyes can stand. You keep your gaze on his until the very last second, when the light grows too bright to stare at. You blink—and then he’s gone, disappearing in a shower of starlight that fades too quickly.

You are left alone in the cool night, with naught but a dying fire for company. 

———

You don’t sleep. You barely bring yourself to tend to the dying embers of your campfire and stoke it back into warm flames. After that, all you can do is sit.

And wait.

And wonder.

And pray.

“Come back to me, my love,” you whisper into the cool night air.  "Please."

You half-wonder if he can hear you. If, on some level, you’re praying to him, the newest of the gods. You don’t know if that thought comforts you or worsens your dread. How does he think of you now, now that his mind is that of a god, capable of seeing beyond the constraints of a mortal’s limited view? If he hears your prayers, does he think less of you, or love you more? Will he remember his promise, or will the power he now holds tempt him to break it? You want to have faith in him—you do have faith in him—but doubt creeps in despite your best efforts.

Come back to me.

You recall what it was like to wait for him at Mystra’s shrine at the Stormshore Tabernacle. How he had explained that time runs differently in the Outer Planes. How he would only be gone for a moment. Each second that had ticked by during that time felt like a year.

Now, sitting on the hillside, every second that passes feels like an eternity.

The fire crackles. The lights of the city begin to dim. One by one the stars fade out, hiding from view as the black of night begins to lighten into the blue hues of pre-dawn. And still, he isn’t back.

Wait for me, he said. And you will. You’ll wait as long as you have to.

But what if…?

No. You can’t bring yourself to put your fears into words anymore. Doing so will only make them seem more real. More feasible. There could be a thousand explanations for why he isn’t back quickly. You just have to have faith in him.

You get up and begin to pace. You start breaking little sticks and twigs into tiny pieces to feed to the fire, piece by tiny piece, just for something to do with your hands. You pluck blades of grass one by one or count the stars you can see. And you wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Your thoughts are your own worst enemy and you wish you had called an ally to come and sit with you. Even Scratch with his favorite ball would have been enough to quiet your heart and mind. But instead, you sit alone, the crackle of a fire the only sound to break the silence.

Your eyelids are heavy now and your body longs to drag you down into slumber, but you resist. You want to be there when he comes back. If he comes back. When he comes back.

You get up to pace again, rubbing warmth into your stiff fingers, amusing yourself with memories of him. His smile. His sly jests and silly puns. His hands on your body and his body against yours, yours against his. The smell of him, as much as you can remember. The way he looked during battles, magic crackling and swirling around him. The way he looked in your bed, fast asleep. Gale Dekarios in all his mortal glory, the man you fell in love with. The man you wish was at your side once more. 

Gods, but you miss him. You press your hands to your chest, feeling your heart beat beneath your palms. What is taking so long?

The first hints of pink and orange appear on the horizon as you turn to pace away from the fire again, your steps wearing a noticeable path through the grass. At this rate, you fear the sun will arrive before your love does. 

You contemplate how you’re supposed to face the whole of a new day alone when a flash of light illuminates the darkness behind you. You whirl, heart racing, to see a shower of starlight once more—and out of it steps Gale.

Mortal. Human. Alive.

“Gale!”

You fly into his arms, which he is already holding out wide for you, nearly toppling you both into the ground with the force of your embrace. You both stagger, but you don’t let go, and his arms around you are as fierce in their hold on you as yours are around him. He practically lifts you off your feet. You can’t put into words how much it means to you that he’s solid your arms—warm, breathing, alive in your arms.

“You’re back,” you gasp, the tears in your eyes and clogging your throat making it difficult to speak. You don’t want to sob and make it seem like you doubted him, but the emotions welling up inside you are hard to suppress. “You came back.”

“Of course, my love,” he says soothingly, not yet relinquishing his hold of you. “You are everything to me. I could do nothing else.”

You untangle yourself from him to wipe the tears from your face and look at him, looking for any changes wrought by his visit to the Outer Planes or from his brief time at godhood. He looks like himself again, his lightly tanned skin flush with warmth and love, his dark brown eyes as rich and deep as ever. You comb your fingers through his soft hair, once more brown and shot through with hints of gray, rather than all over ashen as it was a while ago. Your fingers linger on his cheek, noticing for the first time that the dark vein-like threads that trailed from his eye to his chest are no longer visible. 

The mark of the orb is gone.

In its place are a series of faint scars in the same threads and shapes as the old mark, appearing just below his jaw and flowing down to form a circle over his chest. The tattoo-like color has faded away entirely and there is no dark bruise at the center of the circular marking. Any trace of Netherese magic is gone, leaving behind little more than scars faint enough to be missed by any who are not actively searching for them.

You trace the circular scar lightly with the tips of your fingers. “Does this mean…?”

“It does,” he says, pressing his hand over yours so that both of your hands are pressed flat to his chest. You feel his heart beating, his pulse perhaps a little elevated, but every beat strong and vibrant. “Mystra has cured me of the orb. Completely.”

You want to hate her, and perhaps you still do, and always will on some level. But in that moment you’re grateful and relieved too. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him tight, overwhelmed with happiness and relief and joy. Your love is cured at last. The threat of losing him to Netherese magic is at last put to rest. He is whole again. Restored. 

And he is yours. Not hers.

As dawn colors the sky overhead and spills pink-golden light over the both of you, you kiss him, reveling in the taste of him, in the warmth and weight of him, in his hands on you. Not a single spark of lightning threatens to drive you apart, so you deepen your kisses as much as you please. You simultaneously want to push him down into the grass and make love to him there and kiss him for an eternity you know you both don’t have and simply gaze at him in awe and wonder that even while he had godhood in grasp and a crown on his head, he gave it all up for you.

He gave up godhood for you.

You never realized you could love him more than you already did. But you do. Your every heartbeat sings love for him.

You lose track of time kissing him. It could be moments or hours. You don’t know nor do you care. But at last, when you finally pull away from him, it takes you a second to remember where you are, standing out on the hillside across the river from the city. The sun is rising over the horizon now, painting the world in gold and shifting the hue of the sky to a beautiful, cloudless blue. A new day is beginning. 

A whole future awaits. And it is yours to shape with your love at your side.

“What’s next, my love?” you ask. “Now that we have everything we both want.”

“Next? For us?” He chuckles and takes your hand, bringing it up to press a tiny kiss on your empty ring finger. “If you still want me, I believe we have a wedding to plan.”

“I will always want you, Gale Dekarios. Now and forever.”

“Is that a yes to planning the wedding? Because I’ll have you know that Waterdhavian weddings are quite the large-scale affair.”

You laugh, his humor clearing the air like the sunlight warming away the fog of a morning and the dew on the grass. “Yes. Come on, let’s find some food to eat and get started. I can’t wait to begin a new life together with you.”

“My love, that new life starts now,” he says, bringing you in for another kiss. You smile against his lips and allow yourself to be corrected. He is right, of course.

Your new life with him begins now.

[wandanatsthings]

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝

Hey guys so this post might contradict my last but this is something I struggled with and thought others might be able to relate So I thought i'd share. Hope you enjoy it, feedback is always welcomed. New writer. 

(P.s Im dyslexic i'm trying my best) 

Word count: 2.7k 

Warnings: Mentions of body type/weight (not specific #), not eating, speaks of being ambushed but does not go into detail. Working out, angst and fluff. Missing S/O. Cursing.  Panic attack maybe?/ breaking down sobbing. Stress. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I  miss anything :) 

Summary: Reader stressed out and doesn’t have an appetite while Wanda and Natasha are away on a mission. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n Pov

You had just gotten home from a long day at work where nothing had gone your way. It started with the mission reports that you swore you had completed going missing. You had torn almost your whole office apart looking for them. You just could not find them. You had finally accepted the fact that your work day would be spent redoing mission reports. When you got word that you would be sent on a mission to receive some data from Hydra that SHIELD needed. You usually didn’t complain about going on missions but with the mission reports that needed to be redone on top of the report you were going to have to write for this mission to say you were dreading it would be the least, but you packed up, got on your suit and went outside to the landing pad where the quin-jet was right there waiting for you.

When you got there you were able to get the files you needed. The problem only came when you were trying to leave. The heater sensor on your suit detected hydra agents right where you needed to go to get to the jet and by your heat sensor flashing red like crazy you could tell that there were a lot of them. You took a deep breath and started to walk towards them. The closer you got you could count that it was a total of 10 of them. “I can do this,” you said to yourself. The agent closest to you was to the right with his back turned so he couldn’t see you. You decided that now would be a good time to try out your girlfriend's widow bites that she had given you weeks prior. You threw one out towards him and watched it take effect.

That went well you thought but as you went to do the same to the other agents that had their backs to you, You had been spotted. They all came running towards you, some with their weapons drawn, others ready to avenge you with their fist. Luckily after a long gruesome fight, you were able to get back to the jet with all the information Furry needed. You had some scrapes and bruises but honestly, you didn't care. All you wanted to do was get back to Nat and Wanda. After the long shitty day you had, you decided that the mission reports could wait until a later date. When you got back to the Avengers compound furry was already waiting for you at the landing pad with his hand out for the flash drive that contains all the information SHIELD required.

“Do you have the file and what the hell happened to you?” furry said with a curious look on his face. “Yes I have the files and to answer your question I was ambushed.” You said anxiously to get back to your living corridors to shower and finally be with your girlfriends. “Well are you okay?” he asked. Now furry wasn't the type to show his emotions but you had become his daughter much like Natasha so it didn’t surprise you when he voiced his concerns. “Yes I'm fine, just a couple of scrapes and bruises, nothing I can’t handle.” you reassured him. “Okay well, if it becomes anything more go see Dr. Banner and thank you.” With that, he walked away to go wherever furry goes and you headed to your floor where you hoped your lovers would be waiting for you.

When you got there though you were surprised to hear that the house was fully quiet. Are they home? You wondered. To answer your question, you walked farther into the kitchen and you saw a note on the counter. You grab the note, open it and what you read makes your heart sink. “Hi Detka, we're sorry we are not there to welcome you home. We got called on a short mission and should be back by the end of tonight to have dinner with you. Also, I (Wanda) made your favorite for lunch. It's in the fridge, heat it when you're ready. Xoxo Wands & Natty.” You put the note back down on the counter with a sigh. You understood how random missions could be. I mean you just went on an unexpected one yourself but you really wanted your girlfriends to hold you after the crappy day you had and they weren't here. Now you know that's not their fault but you couldn't help but feel just a little disappointed. You walked to the fridge to get the lunch your sweet witch had made for you and when you pulled it out you saw yet another note sitting on top of the cling wrap plate. You took the note off the plate and put it into the microwave so it could heat while you read the note. “Hi Detka, I hope you got our first note again we're sorry but I made your favorite. We love you!” You smiled at that. You love that they took the time to leave you notes. To you, it showed how much of a priority they thought you were.

By the time you finished reading the love-filled note, you heard the microwave beep. You got the food out, stopped by the drawer by the sink to grab yourself a spoon, and made your way to the dining room table to enjoy a meal that your wonderful girlfriend made. It made you chuckle when you thought back to how Wanda specified that it was her who made it. Both of you know that Natasha couldn’t cook to save her life. When You take the cling wrap off of the plate. Your stomach turned. It wasn’t the food. No, the food looked amazing. It was you. For some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat it. Now this wasn’t new to you. Anytime you had a bad day or things felt out of your control you just wouldn’t have an appetite. It had gotten better when you met your girlfriends. They would always listen to your venting and be there when you needed them. You hadn’t had this problem in a while when they were around. But you were a 24 y/o woman. You were sure you could handle a little stress without your girlfriends coming to your rescue. So you put up the food to come back to it later. While you were waiting for your appetite to come back around you decided to go take a shower and start on all the mission reports you had to get done.

A few hours had passed and it was almost dinner time. You had gotten so caught up in doing your mission reports that you hadn’t even realized that your loves were not back yet. With that, you got up to go ask Tony where they were to see if he had any updates. On your way to Tony’s lab, you stopped at the kitchen to get a water bottle, When you opened the fridge you saw your lunch still sitting there untouched “I'm gonna eat it later.” You said to yourself. When you got to Tony's lab you saw him hunched over looking at what looked like to be floor plans, for what you had no idea but you learned early on in your time here to never ask.

“Hey Tony,” you said approaching him. He looks up from what he’s doing and acknowledges you. “Hey kid, whatcha up too?” “Nothing much, um I was wondering if you had any update on Nat and Wanda? They were supposed to be back by now.” You replied. “No, why do you guys have a hot date planned or something?” He said winking at you. “No, Tony was just wondering where they were.” You say annoyed. He laughs and says “Okay okay um maybe ask Steve? He should know.” “Okay, thank you asshole.” You say with a slight smile on your face as you walk away. “Your welcome ass-hat.” You hear him yell. Although he was a pain in your ass 90% of the time you love the red tin man. You got on the elevator to go find Steve only to realize you had no idea where he was so you asked Friday. “Hey Friday, where’s Steve?” “Steve Rogers is in the gym agent y/l/n.” they reply. “Thanks, Friday.” You say back as you push the gym floor button on the elevator. When you arrive you walk in to see him punching a punching bag. He immediately notices you. “Hey, y/l/n what can I do for you?” He says “Hey cap I was wondering if you had any update on Wanda and Natasha. They said they were going to be back by dinner time. Any idea on where they are?” He looks at you with a sad look on his face. “Yeah, I'm sorry y/n their mission turned out to be not as easy as we thought and they're gonna have to go undercover for a week. Maybe more.” When you hear this your heart drops for a second time this day. “Okay, thanks, Steve.” You say sadly. “You welcome y/n.” He says with a frown on his face knowing how hard it is for you when the 2 red heads are away. When you get back to your floor you decide to call it a night exhausted from the day you've had. As soon as your head hits the pillow you're asleep dreaming that your girlfriends are in the bed with you. While the meal in the fridge sat there waiting to be eaten.

2 weeks. 2 weeks had passed since you saw your girlfriends and since you had a full proper meal. With the stress of work and missing your lovers, you had barely eaten anything more than an apple here and there with some water. Along with that, you had been working out to try and keep your mind off of the fact you hadn’t even talked to them in 2 weeks since it was an undercover no-contact mission. So it was no surprise that that's where you were when they came home.

Wanda’s Pov

When we finally got home after 2 weeks of being undercover all we both wanted was you, food, and a shower. You being the main goal though but when we came into the house it was quiet. We called out to you but no one answered. It was rare that when we returned from the mission you didn’t come running into our arms so excited that we were home so we then decided to ask Friday where you were. “Hey Friday, where's y/n?” “Welcome home Ms. Maximoff and Ms. Romanov. Agent y/l/n is in the gym currently.” They said, “Okay thanks Friday.” I said looking towards Natasha “Let's shower and stuff and then we can go get her and have dinner together.” I say. She nods towards me and says. “Sounds like a plan.” We then make our way to our bathroom to shower.

Nats Pov

After Wands and I shower I headed into the kitchen to get some water while she put on lotion. When I went into the fridge I was surprised to see that the meal Wanda made you still sat in the fridge untouched beside the note being gone. I then looked around more in the fridge to find that nothing else had been touched either. Everything was in the same place as how we left it 2 weeks ago. I then looked around the entire kitchen to come up with the same results. So I called Wanda out here to tell her what I had found and with one look we both raced to the gym to find you. When we got there we could see you through glass, running on the treadmill but when we walked fully inside the sight we saw broke our hearts. You were thin. Like unhealthily thin. Now you weren't even overweight to begin with so with all the working out and barely eating it was enough that within 2 weeks you looked sickly. At the sound of Wanda's gasp when she saw you. You finally noticed them standing there.

Y/n Pov

I was running on the treadmill with my headphones on when I looked up and saw the women I had been longing for for the past 2 weeks. I quickly shut off the treadmill and ran towards them. When I finally reached them I just hugged them, they immediately both hugged me back but something felt off. When I looked up at their faces both of them had tears in their eyes. I let go a little and asked them “What's wrong, Is everything okay? Are you guys hurt?” I say checking over them frantically. When I'm satisfied with my check I look up to them and what comes out of Wanda’s mouth makes my stomach turn."Have you been eating?” she says shakily “What do you mean? Of course, I've been eating.” I say getting a little defensive. “No you haven't’ the meal Wanda left for you before we left is still there and nothing has been moved in the kitchen or the refrigerator. Is everything okay? Are you sick?” Natasha asks. As soon as she asks that You break down in tears. All of the stress of the weeks prior catching up with you all at once. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” You say sobbing and falling to the floor. Wanda and Nat both catch you before you can reach the floor and bring you into their laps just holding you and whispering sweet nothings. When you've finally calmed down Natasha is the first one to speak. “Do you wanna tell us what's going on or would you like to talk about it later?” “No, we can talk about it now,” You say, your scratchy voice from crying.

While you're preparing yourself to tell them everything from the past weeks you feel both of them kiss your forehead and that's what gives you the strength to start talking. “Um before you guys left I had been having a rough day. My mission reports had gone missing and they were due soon and I had got sent on a mission that was supposed to be easy but then I got ambushed.” As you say that Wanda interrupts you and asks “Are you okay, did you need to go to medical?” while checking over you just like you had done minutes ago to the both of them.“I'm fine don’t worry,” You say kissing her hands you then continue. “As I was saying I was ambushed and all I wanted was you guys when I got home and you weren’t there. And don't apologize I can feel you both getting ready too. I understand unexpected missions happen and that is not your fault. When I realized you were not there I saw your first note on the counter which I love. When you leave me notes by the way but then I made my way to the fridge to get lunch. I had all intentions of eating it but when I sat down to eat it I just couldn’t.” You then go on to explain to them that when you're stressed out and when things get out of your control you lose your appetite.

After you're finished talking, Wanda begins to speak. “We are so sorry you had to go through that alone, but as long as we're your girlfriends you won’t ever again have to. Maybe we can talk to Bruce and find you some new coping skills to cope with the stress.” She says “Yeah, what do you think about that sweet girl?” Natasha asks you. You look up at them with so much love in your eyes. “I think that’s a great idea, thank you guys,” You said, giving each of them a kiss. “No problem zolotse,” Natasha says with a smile on her face. “How about we get some lunch?” says Wanda. You look up at them with a small bit of fear on your face having not eaten in 2 weeks you were scared of how your stomach would react. “Don't worry love, we’ll be right here with you.” You hear Wanda say. With that, you all start to make your way to your floor to enjoy lunch. With you thinking that no matter how stressed you got you will always have your girlfriends to make it better.

[bangtanfanfiction]

cold → myg (M)

Not proof read. 

♢ Pairing: Yoongi x Female!Reader → Hogwarts AU

♢ Word count: 16.6k (Idk how this happened okay)

♢ Genre: Angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, slight slowburn, smut 

⌲ Description: Min Yoongi - The 7th year Slytherin student notorious for his cold and indifferent personality, and not to mention his anti-social tendencies. What was it about him that made you so curious?  - Warnings: swearing, some finger action

Hogwarts au masterlist

AN: Whenever I write Hogwarts AU’s I like to include characters that already exist in that world instead of coming up with a lot of OC’s. So you’ll be meeting with a few familiar faces ;)

‘Y/N’ in my story is more of her own character rather than an insert - I’ve tried to keep detailed description down to a minimum, but in some cases it was unavoidable. So sorry for those who find that annoying.

“Miss Y/N...”

“Miss Y/N.”

“Miss Y/N!”

Your eyes flew open at the raised voice next to your ear, heart thumping for some unknown reason as the familiar sight of the dark ceiling came back into focus. Sighing, you relaxed back into your mattress before lazily addressing the voice.

“What is it, Tudey?” You muttered tiredly while the small house elf beside your bed played with her hands nervously.

“Mistress told Tudey to wake Miss up. The Hogwarts train leaves in two hours and Miss cannot afford to be late,” Her squeaky, uncertain voice relayed the message urgently, ears twitching nervously at the sight of irritation on your features. 

Although feeling slightly bad for scaring Tudey for just doing her job, it wasn't enough for you to bother clearing away your irritation. The house elf had known you since birth, and being a naturally nervous creature there wasn’t much you could do.

Resisting another sigh, you just nodded, waving her off as the sound of a loud crack was heard before silence took over again.

You remained in your position for a few moments in your overly large bed, eyes closed and craving more sleep, a black and burgundy comforter tightly wrapped around your body. 

The bedroom was cold, as always. The kind of cold that wasn’t exactly terrible, but enough to make you somehow uncomfortable at certain moments - such as waking up in the middle of the night. The air never failed to draw goosebumps on your skin whenever you woke. 

But you had gotten so used to the feeling that it barely bothered you anymore.

Stretching one last time, you got out of bed and went towards your wardrobe placed in the corner of the room. You didn’t waste a lot of time finding clothes and simply chose the first outfit that you managed to put together, consisting of a black long-sleeved turtleneck with a tight button skirt. You finished the look with some laced-up boots and a classy white blazer to make it a bit more sophisticated. 

Sitting down in front of your vanity table you saw your still half asleep face looking back at you. With a shudder, you grabbed your wand and gave it a wave - the glamor spell doing a quick change to meet the day.

Downstairs, the sound of pots clanging echoed from the large kitchen as you passed it along with the forms of several house elves walking around getting food ready for your family.

Inside the spacious dining room, your parents were already sitting on each end of the table. Both nursing their own cups of tea while reading the Daily Prophet. 

The same thick, tense silence for no reason greeted you.

Your younger brother, who was starting his first year, sat on the left of your mother and your older sister by two years on the right. Choosing the chair to your father’s left, you sat down silently before acknowledging them.

“Morning mother, father,” You nodded at each of them and felt your mother’s scrutinizing look directed at you - which you tried to ignore. It had become a habit at this point. 

“Seeing how you decided to arrive late today, I expect you are ready to pass Hogwarts this year with only the highest marks,” your father’s voice spoke up next to you as you sent him a thin-lipped smile.

“Of course, father.”

He looked at you for a few more seconds before moving on to address your older sister next to you, silently eating her breakfast with her back ram straight. The only one in the room who wasn’t hesitant about openly showing their emotions was your brother. And not even your uptight, pureblood parents could blame him for it. It was his first year at Hogwarts after all, any eleven-year-olds would have been excited at the thought.

Inwardly sighing, you couldn’t help but think how you weren’t lucky enough to be born into a normal, magical family - not even as a muggleborn at that. 

Your luck was as rotten as the trails of crimes belonging to the majority of the sacred Twenty-Eight families still existing to this day. 

Your mother was sitting silently in her seat, too occupied with the news to ask you any questions. Daphne Greengrass had aged well ever since her Hogwarts days, aging slowly and elegantly, not that different compared to your aunt Astoria. They had the same head of dark brown hair and eyes, traits that you had inherited. But unlike her paleness, yours was much more tan, a clear mix of both your parents.

Your father, Blaise Zabini, was an infamous name for all the wizards and witches who lived during the Second Wizarding War, although he had done his best to remain under the radar since then. 

 His affiliation with the Malfoys and several rumors about having been a past death eater were still whispered in the streets whenever any of you walked past. You never had the courage to ask either him or your mother about that. They were dark times, and you were only lucky to be born when the Dark Lord wasn’t trying to take over the world. 

When both of your parents had first married, it wasn’t because of love. More like convenience. It was no well-kept secret that your grandmother from your father’s side was a wealthy woman with her past six deceased husbands. The Greengrass family was one of the prestigious pureblood families still living - so it just made sense to unite the two bloodlines. But your surname would still remain as Greengrass with the influence behind the name soaring above your father’s. 

Even as the years passed, your parents were both adamant about not changing their views when it came to blood status. Their pride and arrogance worth more than anything. Which caused you and your two siblings to be raised in a traditional pureblood Slytherin household. 

Draco Malfoy himself had even changed for the better after his house arrest for being involved with the Dark Lord.

However, the only one who actually agreed with their views was your older sister. She lived to please them. Their praises make her feel better about her achievements.

Blood status didn’t matter to you. Why would you care if they were muggleborn or pure? You’d rather rely on your judgment of character to do the work. You had little patience for cowards. Neither were you the biggest admirer of the timid and silent, nor the rowdy and arrogant. 

Some would say you weren’t the most liked pupil around Hogwarts. Both you and your sister had been sorted into Slytherin on the first day, making nearly everyone, except for your brother, a snake.

After you had finished eating enough breakfast to call yourself full, your father stood up from his seat while looking at his wristwatch.

“Time to go or else you’ll miss the train.”

Everyone stood nearly as one and made their way towards the large double front doors in dark mahogany. Your parents both put on their luxurious robes when your father waved his wand and muttered a spell as two trunks came floating down the stairs. He shrunk them and put them in his pocket before opening the door for everyone to step out of besides your sister. 

She had an early shift at the ministry for her work and wasn't able to come. Not that it bothered you. You never had a good relationship with each other and she proved that by sneering at you, her judgemental eyes raking down your ‘muggle’ looking clothes.

“Try not to disgrace our family name this year, Y/N,” she said as if trying to embarrass you in front of your parents. 

You weren’t the one who had been caught snogging in a broom cupboard during your last year. 

You simply rolled your eyes at her. “I’d say the same thing to you.”

Your father offered you his arm, which you accepted while your mother held tightly to your brother’s hand. Taking a deep breath, you felt the familiar nauseous feeling of being squeezed through a tiny tube when your feet landed back on solid ground. To your annoyance, you stumbled, but your father held tightly to your arm to hinder you from falling completely to the ground. 

It was actions like these that made you feel confused towards the man who was your dad. He played the part well in front of others, taking you and your siblings to the trains each year as well as picking you up during the holidays. Yet his words and expressions were always laced with the monotone coldness you had grown up with. 

Straightening your clothes, you resisted the sad sigh before turning to the familiar, heartwarming sight before you. 

The red magnificent train sent a feeling of safety through you as allowed a small smile. This would be your last year taking it. Your father had already taken out the trunks and turned them back to their original size before turning to you.

“Remember what I told you. We expect nothing less than Outstanding on all your subjects this year,” he reminded sternly as if it was the only thing he could discuss when talking to you. 

Never your wellbeing - just your grades and performance in class.

With that, all the feelings of confusion evaporated quickly from your mind. 

“Yes father, I remember,” you forced yourself to hold the smile at him. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” 

His eyes narrowed at your last sentence but remained silent for your family’s sake. Blaise Zabini was never one for public displays, affection or otherwise. 

“And dress more appropriately next time, Y/N,” Your mother huffed as she glared at where your legs were showing. You wisely chose to hold your tongue at that, knowing nothing good would come out of you smart-mouthing your own mother as well. 

Thankfully it was at that moment the Malfoy family decided to make an appearance, led by Draco himself. He greeted both of your parents and ruffled your little brother’s hair while giving your shoulder a gentle pat. You smiled back at him and his wife, Astoria, giving both of them hugs before discreetly moving toward where their son was standing. 

Scorpius was the same age as you, also starting his seventh year. Not to mention the fact that you were cousins. As you got closer, the gleaming sign of prefect in his hand caught your attention.

“Is that a Prefect sign, Malfoy?” You couldn’t help but ask in amusement as you stood next to him, elbow nudging his. 

His head snapped to the side at your voice, having obviously been lost in thought and giving you an annoyed look. “Jealous, Greengrass?”

“Hah!” You chuckled. “As if. I’d rather not run around the halls after foolish first years.”

“Your brother is a first-year,” Scorpius pointed out.

“Exactly,” You smirked in reply as he shook his head. “Why do you have that anyway?”

“The previous Prefect bailed out apparently, so they needed a new one,” Shrugging, you noticed his eyes glancing around discreetly again. 

“Is that even possible?” 

“Don’t ask me, at least I am one,” Scorpius leered in jest as you scoffed, retaliating smoothly.

“How’s your little girlfriend?”

His silver-blue eyes widened as he slapped a hand over your mouth quickly and you winced at the sudden force. He looked at both of your parents who were far too busy talking about other things.

“Not so loud!” He hissed, bending down to glare.

You pried his hand off you in irritation, before raising your eyebrows at him. “They don’t know?”

“I haven’t told them yet,” Scorpius muttered.

“How can you not tell them you’re dating a Potter?” you asked in disbelief but made sure to keep your voice down. “The whole bloody school knows.”

He gave you a look. “My father would disown me.” How daft of him to even think that, you wanted to cackle. Draco Malfoy disowning his only child? As fucking if. 

“You actually think that?”

“Wouldn’t yours?”

“Well of course he would. He’s my father. But uncle Draco is different, you know that. And your mum just happens to be the nicer sister out of our mothers.”

Scorpius gnawed at his lower lip, guilt obvious at your words. He was well aware of your relationship with his aunt and uncle, and no part of him had planned to make it sound like he wasn't aware of it.

“I’ll tell them. At Christmas.”

Your nose twitched at his cowardice but didn’t bother trying to persuade him anymore. It was his business, after all, cousins or not. You weren’t a meddler. 

“Alright you three, it’s about time for you to get on the train,” Draco then spoke up with a soft tug of his lips as he turned to face your little group - your little brother having been silent and only gawking at the train throughout all the exchanged conversations.

“Yep, see you later Dad, Mum,” Scorpius was quick to place a kiss on Astoria’s cheek and give his father a one-armed hug before vanishing through the crowd and towards the train, trunk in hand.

You could only gape at how quickly he had left you alone at the mercy of your whole family.

Not that Draco and Astoria were the problem. You loved them honestly. But it was a different story when it came to interacting with them in public besides your own parents and what was appropriate in their opinion.

You were never allowed to show a big variety of emotions growing up. Always having to stand tall and unbothered, not let anyone see your weaknesses.

“Are you ready for your last year, sweetheart?” Astoria walked up to you, dainty hands cupping the sides of your face and looking you over with sparkling, nearly black eyes that showed none of the same dead, emptiness her sister did.

And you felt a pinch of sadness inside of you never having been called that from your own mum.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You managed to breathe out, a hint of genuine nerves shining through your hard facade. 

Your aunt and uncle were one of the few you allowed yourself to relax around. And they knew it as well.

“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Draco assured you gently before turning back to face your father, voice hardening only the slightest, almost in warning. Not that it helped. “Won’t she?”

In contrast to the Malfoys' bright voices, your father's was low and indifferent. “Yes, of course. We expect only the best.”

“Oh come on Blaise,” Draco clapped the back of his best friend, features losing the good-natured look and replaced with a slightly tense smile. “Hogwarts isn’t all about studying.”

If you could, you would have hugged the life out of your uncle for trying his best to make this moment into something more comforting for you. As futile as it was.

“Well you better go Y/N, or else you’ll miss the train,” your mother then spoke up, nothing near the loving tone your aunt had used. "Make sure your brother finds his way around."

“I’ll take my leave then.” Taking a hold of your brother’s smaller hand you lead him towards the train, trunks in hand. Him waving at your family as you got on and the door closed behind you.

You turned around to peer down at him expectantly. “You’ll find your way around right?”

“Yes,” he huffed at you. “I’m not a kid.”

Your lips tugged up, but you kept them at bay. “Of course you’re not.” You ruffled his hair before making your way down the tight crowded hallways of the train.

It seemed like most compartments had already been filled with people, and you tsked in annoyance. Nearing the end of the train one compartment caught your attention with only a single person in it. You couldn’t see who it was, but for now, you could care less. 

Sliding open the door, you leaned against it.

“Do you mind?”

The boy had a head of black hair and looked up as you quickly recognized him.

“Not at all,” Yoongi replied, before turning back to the notebook in his hands.

Not offering any words, you only shook your head in bemusement at his usual behavior.

After making sure your trunk was safely placed above your seat, you sat down closest to the window which also happened to be across from Yoongi. You didn’t bother to say anything to acknowledge him as you crossed your legs and looked out at the scenery passing by.

The only sound in the compartment besides you two breathing was the sound of his pen scribbling on the notebook on his lap in concentration. You couldn’t help but glance over in curiosity a few times - not that you managed to see what he was writing from your seat. What you didn’t understand was why he wasn’t seated with his usual group of friends around school. They were quite well known around Hogwarts for their apparently attractive looks and powerful family backgrounds.

The perfect young bachelors.

You weren’t the only one coming from a prestigious Slytherin family after all. 

From what you had heard, Yoongi’s family were all pureblood as well, all having gone to Slytherin as he did now. They were one of the most influential Wizarding families in East Asia, being related to the Parks - who were on top of the chain. His parents hadn’t necessarily been death eaters, but it was quite clear which side they stood on during both of the wars yet still managed to leave unscathed. They had moved from Britain and back to South Korea after the fall of Voldemort but then returned when Yoongi had been born. 

Or so you had heard from the sources of gossip. 

Despite being in the same house, you had barely interacted with the guy. It was quickly known during your first year that he was quite the loner. Refusing to open up and befriend anyone except for that close group of his. The only one you knew personally from them was Jimin Park - his cousin. Another Slytherin in the year below you, his personality being strangely kind and sweet for a snake that you could never wrap your head around.

Not to say you were a social butterfly. 

People stayed away from Yoongi because they knew he wasn’t interested. They stayed away from you because they were afraid. 

Some would think that smiling was an unfamiliar concept to you. It was always blank, or when it wasn’t, it was a glare of judgment. The only ones exempted from it were Scorpius or your other friend, Albus Potter. The two boys having been attached by the hip since first year, before adopting a pity looking eleven-year-old you into their circle. 

You’d say your bark was often worse than your bite unless people really gave you a reason to have a taste. 

You wouldn’t want to disappoint them after all. 

Taking another good look at the boy - or man -  sitting across from you. You noted that he had impressively changed quite a bit over the summer. 

He was no longer as thin and lanky as before. His face seemed to have sculpted a bit more, making it look more defined. His hair which was shockingly white-blonde before was back to black and covered his forehead in a deliberate looking mess. Wearing what looked like slacks and a dress shirt, the first three buttons unbuttoned, showcasing the pale skin underneath. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The glint of metal told about the belt he wore around his hips. He wore a pair of luxurious leather dress shoes, not a single scrape on them, and shining to perfection. 

Not that you even expected something remotely cheaper looking from a pureblood.

“If all you’re going to do is stare you might as well talk,” His surprisingly deep voice, contrary to his slighter figure suddenly spoke, raising his head to lift a brow at you.

You simply smirked, not the slightest bothered at being caught. “I didn’t take you for someone to talk.”

“I’m not,” he agreed. “But I usually don’t share compartments either.”

“What happened to your friends?” You questioned, leaning back against the cushioned bench. “Trouble in paradise?”

You saw his lips tug up at your jest before smoothing out again. “More like too much paradise. Everyone needs privacy once in a while.”

You acknowledged his answer with a nod and turned to look back out the window.

“Where’s Malfoy? Expected to see him attached on your hip.”

“Probably busy snogging his girlfriend,” You replied casually.

“Ah,” Yoongi realized. “The Potter girl, isn't it? Or was it Weasley? I always mix up that family.”

“Potter,” You confirmed in amusement. “The youngest if I’m not wrong - sweet Hufflepuff girl, but quite the firecracker.”

“Who would have known; A Potter and Malfoy ending up together,” a snigger was on his lips as he spoke the words.

You returned it. “A snake and a badger. Let’s hope it’ll last.” 

“Badgers are the ones known to consume snakes, you know. Perhaps Malfoy is the one who should watch his back.”

Thinking back on the first meeting between you and the youngest Potter girl, you couldn’t help but find his analogy ironically fitting. A firecracker might even be too gentle of a description when it came to the redhead, but you could see yourself getting along with her in the time to come.

“Perhaps you’re right.”

“Hm,” He simply hummed in reply before his eyes flickered back to the notebook on his lap, your eyes following him the entire time. You should be ashamed for staring as you did, honestly. He scribbled something down before speaking up again.

“Something on your mind, Greengrass?”

“Just intrigued.”

Yoongi arched his brow in a silent question.

“For being labeled as the loner you are, you’re awfully talkative.”

“Just because I prefer my own company doesn’t mean that I’m anti-social,” He countered calmly.

You couldn’t help but agree with his answer. “Touché.”

You settled back into your seat and leaned your head back with a small inaudible sigh. You never were a fan of the long trip it took to get to Hogwarts. Your body despised being stuck in one place for too long. It always got too uncomfortable and sleep wasn’t even something you considered. 

There was a slight chill in the compartments that brushed against your exposed legs as you unconsciously tried to tighten the blazer around you to keep the goosebumps at bay. Maybe it wasn’t that clever to wear a skirt on the long ride back to school. 

The feeling of some heavy fabric being suddenly placed over your lap made your eyes snap open in surprise. Yoongi was sitting back in his seat and you looked down to see a black leather jacket covering your previously cold legs.

You opened your mouth to say something, but seeing the way he didn’t even spare you a glance and returned to writing in his book, you decided to remain silent. Adjusting the jacket a bit, you closed your eyes again. 

But what you didn’t notice in your relaxed state was the way Yoongi would glance up at you from time to time. 

+ 

It was nearly completely dark outside the next time you opened your eyes. The compartment was empty beside yourself when the door slid open and you met the familiar green eyes of your best friend.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Albus Potter stated as he leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. His black hair was disheveled on top of his head as always. This time you allowed yourself to smile genuinely with no fear of judgment.

“Sorry,” You muttered and shook your head. “I lost track of time.”

He took another glance at you before questioning. “Did you sleep?”

“I guess so,” You shrugged in reply, though you were put off at the revelation. You had simply closed your eyes to rest them like always but managed to lull yourself to sleep. 

“Well, you better get changed,” Albus clicked his tongue and glanced down at the golden watch on his wrist that he received for his 17th birthday just a month previously. “We’re nearly there and you’re probably the last one still lounging around.”

“Alright, alright,” You waved him off sounding annoyed, but a part of you had missed his punctual nagging and welcomed the familiarity of it.

Albus stepped inside the compartment as you stood up, just to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into a hug, that you wholeheartedly accepted. A near sigh of relief coming from you.

You had missed the comfort of your best friend being stuck inside the cold manor of your family for half of the summer. 

“I missed you,” Albus must have known how bad you’ve had it, or Scorpius had filled him in, that nosy fool. 

“I missed you too.”

With a peck against your cheek, he stepped back outside and shut the door with the blinds falling down to conceal you from prying eyes. 

That was when you noticed the jacket laying by your feet. Picking it up you simply stared at it for a few seconds before shaking your head.

You managed to change quickly by summoning your uniform and replacing them in the trunk. Straightening out the plain gray skirt and tucking your white blouse in the waistband. Finishing with the stockings and putting on your shoes, you felt the train lurching to a stop and saw the station outside the windows. 

Tucking your wand in your pocket and draping the leather jacket over your shoulders, you stepped outside the compartment to see Scorpius had joined Albus in waiting for you.

“So sleeping beauty has finally joined us,” Your cousin smirked at you.

“Oh shut up, I wasn’t the one running off to snog my girlfriend and leaving my cousin for the sharks,” Was your retort, seeing the faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Shut it both of you,” Albus groaned. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

With a girlish giggle, you only let yourself make around your closest friends, you looped your arms through both of theirs before starting to pull them towards the exit. The three of you managed to push through the excited first years and towards the carriages.

The younger students automatically moved out of the way seeing three upper years waltzing up. You had seen a glimpse of your younger brother, but he quickly vanished within the crowd after being led towards the boats.

When the carriages finally came to a stop, Albus helped you step down before making your way inside the familiar stone structure.

A visible smile of comfort was drawn on all three as you looked around the castle.

“Can’t believe it’s our last year,” Scorpius spoke on the way toward the Great Hall.

“It’s surreal,” Albus agreed. “I’m gonna miss Hogwarts.”

Me too, you couldn’t help but think back but decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. 

The only positive thing about leaving the magical school was the fact that you could finally move out for yourself. There was no need to live in the suffocating manor of your parents anymore now that you were seventeen and nearly graduated.

The Great Hall was in an excited buzz for the start of the term. People from all houses were racing across the room to greet friends after the long break. The three of you made your way over to the table covered in mostly green and silver before sitting down at the complete end, closest to the doors. It was where the graduating students usually sat, with the first years closest to the front. 

You couldn’t help but try to look around in curiosity in search of one certain snake in your year, but it was hard to find someone in the masses of the crowd with such a neutral hair color like black.

“Is that a new jacket?” Albus questioned you as he noticed the leather draped over your shoulder.

“Uh no, borrowed it from a...friend,” you hesitated at the words and he noticed it quickly.

“Really?”

“No, not really.” 

“Who gave it to you?” He continued to probe.

“You know Yoongii?” You turned your head to look at him seated beside you.

“It’s his jacket?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I was cold and he leant it to me.”

“I never took him for someone who cared,” Scorpius added in the conversation. He sat on the other side of the table, facing the two of you. 

“Neither did I, but I was apparently wrong.”

“Wonder why he gave up the Prefect position,” Albus mused as you frowned. 

“Wait - he was the previous Prefect?” You asked in surprise. “Since when?”

Both of your best friends gave you exaggerated looks. 

“What do you mean since when, since he was chosen in fifth year, what else,” your cousin snorted. 

Out of nowhere, a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulder so suddenly that you couldn’t help but jump and let out a curse, knocking your knee against the underside of the table - your heart racing frantically inside your chest.

Laughter broke out from your friends as you whipped around to glare at the culprit that scared you. 

“Bloody hell Parkinson, get a life will you!” You snapped, fond irritation coating your words at the guy guffawing behind you.

Liam Parkinson, the only son of the newly divorced Pansy Parkinson, was laughing. He had the same light brown hair as his mother with her dark eyes. With about a head taller than yourself, the guy waltzed around Hogwarts boasting his lean and muscular build that came from being a beater towards any girls who would fall for his tricks. 

“Come on now, love. No need to be so uptight,” With a smirk, he slid into the bench next to you.

“How was summer, mate?” Scorpius asked him through his own snickering, propping an elbow up on the table, chin against his hand lazily. 

“Dreadful,” Liam replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Mum’s been moping every single day. Don’t even know why. It’s not like my father was dad of the year either.”

“Sorry to hear,” Albus grimaced at those words, having grown well-known of the drama that apparently followed pureblood Slytherins everywhere they went. 

“Yeah, I wish my parents would get a divorce,” Your blunt words were no surprise for anyone. “Can’t handle having the two of them in the same room.”

“She mostly spent summer with us anyways,” Your cousin added.

“Thank Merlin for the Malfoys.”

Before they could continue, the grand doors to the Great Hall opened up, hushing all conversations in the room. A long line of first years started to stumble inside, looking around in amazement. You caught your brother’s eye as you sent him a quick wink in encouragement.

But after seven years of the same thing, the sorting went by dreadfully slow for your taste as you tried to hide your chuckles from the foolish things your friends were whispering about. When you heard your brother’s name being called, you perked up to see him nervously step up to the stool before the hat was placed on his head. There was only a 10-second wait when his house was called out.

“Ravenclaw!”

You didn’t hold back your applause as you cheered for him like the table clad in blue and bronze.

“Hey, who would have thought? First Greengrass not be sorted into Slytherin,” Liam commented as he threw an arm casually around your shoulder.

“He’s not the first one,” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Just the only one currently alive.”

“You think your parents will be okay with it?” Albus asked you.

You nodded. “It’s better than Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I think they expected it.”

The sorting flew by after that along with the speech of Headmistress McGonagall who wished everyone back to Hogwarts to do their best, along with addressing the new Head boy and Girl. Who happened to be Albus and a girl from Hufflepuff you had never heard of before. 

It was when dinner began that people rose up from their assigned house tables and sat with their friends instead. It was such a usual occurrence now that no one even reacted. The Great Hall went from going color-coordinated to a sea of green, blue, red, and yellow all mixed together. 

You were just glancing over your shoulder when you caught the familiar face of Yoongi sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table with his usual group. That reminded you of the leather jacket now draped across your lap. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told your friends, standing up and making your way over.

The seven boys weren’t one of the silent groups, that was for sure. And you noticed how they seemed to differ in years as well, not only houses. But they quickly saw you coming in their direction as they looked on in curiosity.

You ignored all of them as you took hold of the jacket and addressed the owner. “You forgot this.”

Yoongi simply stared up at you for a second before accepting the clothing you held out. “It seemed like you needed it more than me.”

“What a gentleman." You allowed yourself the smallest hint of a half smirk. “But you might not be so lucky to have it returned next time.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you. “Next time?”

“Don’t be a stranger, Min,” was all you said before turning around and sitting back down with your friends, who all looked at you strangely.

They had never seen you go out of your way to get to know someone. Even if that someone was in the same year and house. 

“What was that all about?” Liam questioned you.

You took a sip of your pumpkin juice. “I think I just made a new friend.”

+

The semester was kicking your arse only two months in. Flooding you with homework and preparations for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, your professors turned merciless to make sure everyone was prepared. 

With prideful parents like yours, they only expected the best. You had two acceptable choices in their book. It was either becoming a Ministry official or the Department of Mysteries. 

You never were fond of the second choice, and the thought of becoming an Unspeakable didn’t sit well with you. Not after everything you had read about what happened there during the war. Becoming a ministry official seemed the logical choice, your attention being on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where Harry Potter himself was the head and had changed tremendously in the years since his appointment, having become one of the most praised departments in the British Magical community. 

However, with Hermione Granger as the current Minister of Magic, there wasn’t much of the Ministry to be talked badly about with how much effort the past war heroes have done to make sure everything was going in a positive direction. 

Too bad they couldn’t change your family too.

Putting down the quill in your hand, you glared at the stack of books by your side and several pieces of parchments being filled to the brim. Your body ached from sitting for too long, and the air in the library was starting to feel suffocating to you.

“That doesn’t look pleasant,” a voice suddenly commented at the sight of the table you sat on.

You weren’t even surprised anymore to hear that voice near you.

Yoongi and you had developed a strange sort of friendship ever since the compartments.

It wasn’t one where the two of you spent time together to hang out. But rather silent companionship, where words were spoken freely without fear of insults or hurt feelings. You were both too damn stubborn for that. 

You never sought out for each other’s company. Simply conversing whenever you cross paths. And it happened more often than you would have imagined.

“Never said it was,” You mumbled without turning around and stretching your stiff fingers.

“How long have you been sitting here?” Yoongi asked over your shoulder.

You could sense the way he was scanning your writing and what you were working on.

Taking a look at the watch on your wrist you shrugged. “Since 12.”

“On a Sunday of all things?” there was amusement with a hint of disbelief in his voice.

Glancing up at him you arched an eyebrow. “So Mr. Antisocial has never studied on a Sunday before?”

“Believe it or not, I do have a life you know,” Was his reply while walking around the table and taking a seat on the chair opposite of you.

“I find that hard to believe,” you leaned forward with a leer as he narrowed his eyes at you good-naturedly.

“How unfortunate for me,” he drawled.

You snorted unattractively, before leaning back in your chair with a stretch of your arms. “What brings you to the library on a weekend then?”

“I’m bored,” Yoongi replied. “And Namjoon was getting too intellectual for my taste.”

“Namjoon?” You pondered over the name. “The Ravenclaw prefect in our year?”

“The very same.”

“Well if I don’t remember wrong, he is one of the top three students.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that his rants are annoying. Jeongguk isn’t like that,” he pointed out.

“Ah yes, I remember him,” You chuckled. “Cute kid. Though he ran off when he bumped into me once.”

“Must have been your charming smile,” Yoongi taunted with a sarcastic smirk as you sneered at him in irritation. “Perhaps stop glaring at everyone you see?”

“I did not glare at him, thank you very much,” You sniffed in a dismissive manner. “I hardly did anything before he squeaked out an apology and ran as if a Hungarian Horntail was after him.”

“And there you have Jeongguk for you,” he smiled in amusement at the picture of the fifth-year Ravenclaw running off at the sight of you. “Maybe you should stop being so intimidating.”

You stared blankly at him. “Says you.”

“I’m pretty certain people don’t run away from me in fear.”

“Fear makes people respect you,” You replied as you gathered all your parchments in a neat pile to take back with you to the common room.

“I’m sure that’s what Voldemort thought as well,” he mused.

“Whatever,” Scoffing, you stood up with an almost sassy quality to the way you propped your hips out to the side staring down at him. “You don’t see me planning to take over the Wizarding World now, do you? Too much of a hazard.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrows, half smirk on his lips. “How would I know? You could be conspiring up a plan as we speak.”

“Funny,” A blank statement coming from you. “Well you’re starting to annoy me, so I’m leaving.”

With those words, you turned around with your things and walked away. 

“You’re welcome!” he called after you. 

Walking out of the library you headed towards the dungeons People from other houses might find the lower levels of the castle uncomfortable and a hint creepy. But you found comfort in the dim lights and darkened hallways. After going through them every day for the past seven years, you do get used to it. 

But the cool air reminded you too much of your home with your parents which sent unwanted shivers across your skin. 

With a mutter of the password in front of the entrance, it swung open allowing you inside. It was mostly empty, seeing how it was Sunday after all. And most people were probably still hanging around at Hogsmeade before classes started again in the morning. 

But a particular figure lounging on the black leather couch in front of the fire caught your attention. You walked over and plopped down on the couch beside him as you put your things on the table in front of you. He didn’t even acknowledge your existence as you looked at him. 

“What’s with the face?” You asked. 

Liam Parkinson let out a dramatic sigh as he leaned further back on the couch, looking positively devastated.

Or at least he tried to. You knew the guy far too well to know when he was playing it up. 

“I’m being dumped by my two best friends...” he muttered miserably. 

“What did they do?” You questioned while your lips twitched. 

“Hanging out with their girlfriends is what.” He was actually sulking, dear Merlin. “Leaving me all alone.”

“Wait, I thought Albus and that Jordan girl broke up before summer?” You said confused. 

“They did,” Liam agreed. “But apparently they contacted each other again during the break and are trying to ‘figure things out’.” He said in question marks. “Whatever that bloody means.”

You noticed how bitter those words sounded as you suppressed a laugh.  

“Awe, come on now Parkinson,” you cooed teasingly and threw an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll tell Albus of your heartbreak.”

He glared. “You’re a cunt, you know that?”

“I’ve heard worse,” You shrugged nonchalantly. 

“You know, I haven’t snogged anyone in over six months,” Liam told you like it was the most scandalous event to exist. 

“I’m sorry to hear that?”

“Yeah, so am I!” he nodded his head vigorously. 

“What, no French girls that caught your attention?” Referring to his trip to France with his family during the summer break.

“None...” he grumbled, before suddenly perking up again. Suddenly his face was uncomfortably close to yours as you stared at him weirdly. 

“Snog me, Y/N.”

You simply scoffed as you put a finger on his forehead and pushed him away. 

“I’m not gonna snog you, Parkinson.” 

“Why not?” Liam whined out. 

“I don’t go around kissing friends.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?” He pointed out as you arched an eyebrow. 

“Not when it comes to your intimate needs.”

“Is this because of Min?” 

You paused for a moment. “What about him?”

“I mean you have been spending awfully a lot of time with him,” Liam pointed out. 

“It’s not like I seek him out.” It wasn’t your fault the castle was awfully small these days. “We just happen to cross paths a lot. We’re in the same house and year.”

“Still,” Your friend shrugged. “Why now? You’ve had six years to talk to him.”

You only shook your head in a dismissive way and didn’t bother to reply. 

The truth was that you didn’t have an answer for him. 

You wondered yourself; Why now?

+

The Great Hall was pretty vacant on a Wednesday afternoon. Many still in their last class for the day, while others were lucky enough to have a free period before dinner and chose to spend the time outside before winter drew closer. 

Yoongi was counted as one of the lucky ones as he sat by the long table, his friends of the same age sitting on either side of him.

Namjoon was busy scribbling down notes from a Transfiguration book, his black-rimmed glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, while Hoseok was staring out into space, absently making a napkin float in the air with his wand. They only missed Seokjin from the same year who was a Gryffindor, but he was too busy with Quidditch practice to be with them.

The boys had three other friends in their close-knit group. But they were younger than them, so classes were scheduled differently.

Yoongi himself wasn’t doing much as he sat there silently reading a book he didn’t even remember the plot of. He must have spaced off some time ago as he read the same sentence over and over again.

A screech pulled him out of his daydreaming, and he looked up to see a familiar black owl swooping towards him. The bird elegantly settled itself on the table in front of him with a letter in its beak.

Taking it, Yoongi gave an affectionate scratch on top of his head. “Thanks, Hades.”

With another sharp squeak, the owl opened its wings and flew back out.

Yoongi looked down at the envelope and let out a sigh as he recognized the rich and thick parchment.

“Another one?” Hoseok’s voice asked him sympathetically.

“Yeah,” the Slytherin only said while he ripped open the dark purple wax seal.

Yoongi.

Your father and I trust that your studies are going well. Keep a reminder that this is your last chance for the highest grades if you have ever cared about your future. We will be visiting your cousin for Christmas - she is getting married to a very high standing officer within the Ministry of East Asia. You should learn something from her. 

Nevertheless, you’ll have to remain at Hogwarts this year. And do not think I have forgotten about your childish decision to drop the Prefect position without consulting us. You will go through with this marriage, which will only benefit our family. So stop being selfish and think of our family for once. 

Do try to keep your distance from those of lesser positions, my dear. We wouldn’t want to taint this arrangement anymore than necessary.

Mother. 

His eyes scanned over the elegant writing of his mother, for each sentence his jaw tightened in annoyance and frustration. The letter was finished with the familiar seal of his family. As if it was some kind of formal greeting instead of just a message to her son.

After finishing it, he threw it on the table as Hoseok reached out for the parchment to see for himself. 

“Is she still going on about that engagement?” Namjoon then spoke up, attention never pulled away from his scribbling. 

“Seems like I have no choice anymore,” Yoongi grumbled out his reply with dark eyes. 

He heard a scoff to his side and glanced over at his Hufflepuff friend. “And she never forgets to remind you to keep away from mudbloods and blood traitors, I see,” he did air quotations as he said the terms, not even the slightest bothered even if he knew a part of it was directed to him. 

“You know my mother’s obsession with blood purity,” Yoongi could only shake his head in shame at that. 

“Do you know who the family is?” Namjoon cut in, changing the subject. 

“Of the bride? No idea. They haven’t even told me who they’re considering. Knowing them it’s probably some pureblood snob from a powerful family.”

“They can’t actually force you, can they?” Hoseok asked in disbelief. “I mean it’s your life!”

“If only it was that easy, mate,” He sighed, now suddenly feeling the weight of the whole situation resting on his shoulders. 

“Why, you’re already seventeen. There’s nothing they can do,” the Hufflepuff countered fiercely.

“Technically they can’t,” Namjoon said, closing his book gently, back straightening, and both knew he was about to come with another intellectual fact of his. “But you also have to remember that without contact with his family, Yoongi wouldn’t have anything to live on. His Gringotts account is connected to his family name. So if he were to just drop it all and run away, it would be futile.”

“He has us!” Hoseok argued. “It’s not like we would let our friend roam around without money.”

“I wouldn’t let you,” Yoongi then snapped, before taking a deep breath. “As much as I despise my blood, I’m not going to spit on my pride and borrow money from any of you.”

“Then what are you going to do?” His friend asked with a look. “You’re not just going to let them ship you off to some unknown girl?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the girl that’s coming to him. If we account for the misogynistic traits of pureblood families.” Namjoon decided to correct, as both of the men present rolled their eyes. 

“I don’t know,” Yoongi admitted. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it's that I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

“Is that why you dropped out of the prefect position?” Hoseok asked, finally bringing up the subject their whole group had been curious about ever since the term started. “Because of the arrangement?”

“Just a last attempt at trying to persuade my mother. Didn’t exactly work,” Yoongi scoffed, remembering back to his last desperate attempt to try and change his parent's mind. 

When he had first gotten Prefect in his fifth year, Yoongi could admit that he had been quite proud. He was raised to become a great leader and at that time was still under the influence of his parents' larger-than-life ambitions for him. Luckily it wasn’t like that anymore and he was his own person now. Though a person is still chained to his family name. 

“Since when did you and Greengrass get close?” Namjoon suddenly asked. “My girl says she’s quite scary.”

“Your girl?” Hoseok repeated amused, leaning forward in interest. “You mean the girl you met in the library? I thought that was just a one-time thing. How does she even know Greengrass?”

The Ravenclaw shrugged, though there was a visible blush slowly spreading on his cheeks. “We just started to hang out and things changed. Besides, she's a Slytherin as well.”

“The girl who dyed my hair pink?” Yoongi deadpanned as both of his friends snorted at the reminder. 

“I thought you quite liked the look,” Hoseok smirked mischievously. 

“I was just too lazy to change it.'' The older male defended himself, even though he had spent the rest of the semester wearing the shocking color. “And we’re just talking, it’s not that big of a deal.”

Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged glances without the knowledge of their other friend. 

“What if she’s the one you’re arranged to marry?” Namjoon joked. 

“Hah! That would be something,” Hoseok laughed before high-fiving him. 

Yoongi rolled his eyes at the antics of friends. “You’re both insane.”

Yet a part of him whispered almost tauntingly, but what if?

He brushed it away quickly. 

+

Staring up at the black iron gates that separated you from your house caused you to heave out a tired sigh. The feeling of the impending doom somehow wouldn’t go away. 

You had been called up to the headmistress’ office on a whim while you were on your way to the Great Hall for some dinner. Apparently, there had been an urgent message coming from your mother demanding your presence back at the manor for the evening. 

Knowing your mother, you knew she was probably just being overdramatic about something that didn’t have to do with you but still wanted to have you there for just one reason; they were having guests over and wanted to give the overall false image of a happy and complete family. 

The entire idea of having to play pretend with your parents and obnoxious sister made you want to spend the night in Azkaban instead because your youngest brother had not been called him. 

Taking out your wand, you waved it in front of you as the protective shield identified you as one of the residents before flickering away for a moment to allow you access. The metal gates ground open as you made your way down the path to your house.

After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you remained silent for a couple of seconds, trying to detect the sounds of chattering coming from the dining room - but there were none. 

Sighing again, you realized you had unfortunately managed to arrive before the guests had. 

“Y/N is that you?”

Before you had the chance to even think about escaping, your mother suddenly came from the direction of the library as she spotted you.

“Merlin, how slow can you be with a portkey at your disposal?” She shook her head before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you into the direction of the living room, her nails digging uncomfortably into your skin. 

“No one told me anything,” You defended yourself before shaking off her hold and walking the rest of the distance yourself. 

“That doesn’t matter now. You’re late and have no time to change and make yourself presentable,” she scowled in reply.

The only people in the living room were your father and sister, both looking presentable and clean - like a pureblood family should look. You stood out from your family’s pristine and overpriced robes being dressed in your Hogwarts uniform. 

You felt your father scan you from head to toe with his chilling and disapproving gaze as you avoided looking at him. You also noticed how your sister just wasn’t looking presentable. She had dressed up more than usual, adorning a velvet emerald green dress that flared out from her waist and to her knees, the sleeves stopping at her elbows with a sweetheart neckline. 

Something was definitely going on. 

“Who are we waiting for?” You dared to question your family in the room. 

Your mother rolled her eyes as if expecting you to know the answer already and guilt-tripping you for not being more involved in family affairs. 

“Your sister’s fiance and his family are coming for a visit, how could you forget?” She tsked. 

Ah, the so-called arranged marriage that you had heard about for the past couple of months. You didn’t know about the family or the guy, but they were obviously wealthy enough for your parents to look their best. 

And how were you supposed to know that it was today?

“Then why am I here? I’m not the one getting married,” You responded slightly annoyed. 

“Y/N, stop being rude and behave yourself!” Your father snapped in reply as you flinched back. “I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. No foolish remarks, understood?”

With a clench of your fists, you nodded mutely, not offering any words in fear of your anger showing and making him even more pissy. Your sister simply scoffed before smoothing her hands down the fabric of her dress with an excited glint in her eyes. 

“Mother, do you think he’ll like me?” She asked with the voice of an innocent girl as you resisted the urge to show your irritation. 

“Of course he will, darling!” Your mother cooed, patting down her hair gently. “Any man would be a fool not to like you.”

“We’ll see about that,” You muttered to yourself as your sibling heard and sent you a fleeting glare while you smirked in reply. 

It was at that moment that the flames of your fireplace rose up high and turned green as your family all waited for the guests. The first one to step out was a man. He was smaller than your father in his height and had a bit of a belly prodding out. His hair was black and slicked back and his looks were East Asian. Korean at the looks of things. 

A woman came out next. Small and petite, but with a stern gaze that calculated if you were worthy to be in her presence or not. They were both dressed in expensive clothes, with sparkling pearls adorning the neck of the woman, and a golden watch on the wrist of the man. 

“Dong Wook, Yoon Hee! So good to see you two again!” Your mother went forward to greet both of them enthusiastically, your father following her lead, though a lot more subdued and only offering polite handshakes. You were pretty certain your mother had butchered their names though, holding back a snort. 

“Ah yes, it has been quite a while,” the woman, Yoon Hee, replied calmly with a stiff smile. She reminded you of a statue.

“We are looking forward to this union as much as you are,” The man spoke up, a slight accent in his voice. 

“Of course - where is your son?” Blaise Zabini asked the other couple. 

As you waited uninterested for the supposed husband to arrive, you didn’t offer to introduce yourself and instead kept silent in the background. 

“He was just behind u - oh here he comes.”

Simply being curious by nature, you came a bit closer to the huddling group to get a good look at the guy your sister was to marry. 

It wasn’t someone you expected to see. 

+

He was frozen. 

Not only that, but he was completely speechless as well. 

Min Yoongi was frozen and speechless. And it wasn’t often that someone managed to render him to that state.

He didn’t know what he was expecting when he stepped out of the flames. 

A posh-looking family dressed in their finest robes ready to impress his family? That’s exactly what he got. But the addition of you standing next to them in your Hogwarts uniform definitely caught him off guard for a moment.

But it was just that. A single moment.

He couldn’t let his parents see his slip-up.

But he wanted to laugh. Not only laugh but actually cackle at the fucking irony after his conversation with his friends in the Great Hall. A small bloody world, indeed. 

And by the look of things, it wasn’t you who was assigned as his bride-to-be. Rather your sister, who looked far too excited for his taste.

Yoongi remained silent as he stayed behind his parents, still easily seen because of his superior height in comparison to them. He simply offered a polite nod and tense smile to the three Greengrass family members, who seemed determined to keep the pleasant conversation flowing between them and his parents. 

But he couldn’t help his gaze from straying to where you stood. Several times actually.

It was obvious you were the odd one out. Not just because of your clothing. The distance you kept was fairly obvious, and your facial expressions told him that you’d rather be anywhere else right now. 

The next time he glanced at you again, he was fairly embarrassed to see you already looking at him.

You were arching your eyebrow up in an expression that obviously asked: “Thought I didn’t notice?”

“Yoongi, why don’t you let your fiancé give you a tour of the house and get to know each other?” His mother suggested, sounding pleasantly polite, but her eyes that stared at him told him he had no other choice. 

“Of course, you two go on then,” Mrs. Greengrass agreed and ushered her eldest daughter to his side. 

Just as he was about to follow her out of the room, he heard your voice speak up in the most polite tone he had ever experienced from you. 

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I took my leave then, mother?”

Yoongi only managed to catch a glimpse of the expression on your parent's faces, but it wasn't good. 

“Why don’t you join them?” His father suddenly spoke up. “Y/N was it?”

You nodded. “Yes sir.”

“Manners,” he nodded approvingly. “We’re to be family, after all, you should join them.”

Your eyes flickered to where he stood and the clear reluctance in them made him have to smother his chuckle into a small cough. 

“But they’re to be married, shouldn’t the two of them spend the time together?” Your mother argued back, voice strained and trying to remain courteous. 

Yoongi’s mother shrugged. “Like my husband said, we are to be family after all. And they’ll have more than enough time to get to know each other during their marriage.” The finality in her words was obvious as Mrs. Greengrass simply nodded. 

He saw you nodding at his parents with a strained smile before making your way over to where he stood with your sister, her hands already holding onto his arm impatiently. 

When the three of you got out of the dining hall and out of hearing range of the adults, his fiancé - which he still didn’t know the name of - was quick to speak up. 

“Couldn’t you just have remained silent, Y/N?” She spoke to you in annoyance as you sent her a sarcastic smile. 

“I couldn’t exactly say no either, Isla ” you retorted from the other side of him. 

Ah, so that was her name. 

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?” Isla, now glared. 

You never let lost the, frankly, malicious expression. “Oh yes, because third wheeling on you and your fiancé’s awkward first meeting was my ultimate goal.”

“That’s a bit offensive, how would you know if I’m awkward” Yoongi finally spoke up after arriving, sniggering like a five-year-old at the look you sent him. 

“It’s not offensive if it’s true,” You replied with a careless shrug. “And I do know you. You might think you’re a smooth talker, but this screams awkwardness.”

“Aren’t you being a bit too cocky right now?” He arched an eyebrow. “We are to be family, after all, sister.”

Your face scrunched up at the word as you punched him in the arm. “That’s disgusting, don’t call me that.”

Yoongi had stumbled slightly to the side, letting out a short laugh at your expression. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?”

Both of you stopped and turned to look at Isla, who was looking somewhat confused and angry at the same time. 

“What?” You asked her. 

“You two know each other?”

“Isn’t that quite obvious?” Yoongi drawled in reply, looking at her blankly.

“We’re in the same house and year, how do you expect us not to know each other?” You felt the need to clarify for your sister. 

“Why do you always have to ruin things for me, Y/N?” Isla sneered. 

“News flash, darling,” You returned it. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.” 

Rather than replying, Isla simply huffed, grabbing his arm again and pulling him along rather forcefully as Yoongi simply let her. Not a single part of him had been interested or engaged in today’s meeting. But with your presence at his back, following them leisurely, he couldn’t help but be slightly more present with how things would turn out. 

Yoongi hardly paid attention every time Isla spoke and pointed out something of the Greengrass Manor as they walked through the dark, cold halls. He hummed here and there to keep up the pretense of giving a shit, and he knew you knew it as well with your scoffs and snorts now and then as your sister thought she was saying something interesting. They must have walked through a part where your bedroom was located, because he noticed your presence behind him suddenly ducking into a door to Isla’s ignorance, and he took his chance.

“Do you mind pointing me towards the bathroom?” Yoongi kept his voice neutral, and she was more than happy to. “I’ll meet you downstairs with the others, this might take a while.” This time he sugarcoated a bit of a charming smile to convince her to leave, and it worked. 

He waited a few seconds before coming back out and saw the hall empty, making his way towards the door you had slipped into, noticing how it was a smidge open. With a simple push of his hand, it opened with a quiet creak and he took in the spacious space curiously. Decorated after your taste in shades of dark burgundy and browns, a contrast to the rest of the house. But the chilly air remained. 

“Find anything you like?” 

His eyes snapped to your form lounging on a reading nook right by the large windows seeing out into the vast estate gardens, it being pitch black outside. You were leaning against a heap of pillows, a blanket loosely pulled over your bare legs in the uniform. 

“You snuck away, so I was worried.”

“Worried, or curious?” 

Yoongi offered a half-hearted tug of his lips. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not.” You glanced at him again, taking in his form leaning against the doorway casually. “You can come in, you know.”

“Didn’t want to risk getting hexed, is all.”

“If I wanted to hex you, I would have done it in the compartment.”

“Fair enough.”

Walking inside the room leisurely, he couldn’t help but feel like you were offering him a glimpse of your true self. It was decorated in a way to try and chase away the coldness of the house and your family itself, with colours that reminded him of Gryffindors rather than that of a snake in the dungeons. 

You shifted slightly, and he took the silent invitation to sit down beside you on the wide, pillowed window seat, a few inches of space between you. 

“So? Marriage, huh.”

“Still in talks,” Yoongi mused mysteriously. 

“You obviously don’t want to.”

“Hm, was it my expression that gave it away?” You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic remark, kicking a foot against his thigh. He simply chuckled. 

“Were you even aware?”

“Sure, been for a while. But I never knew who.”

“What’s your verdict?”

His brown eyes met yours, almost with a sparkle in the dim lighting of your room. “That I’m not the only one with family issues.”

You both shared a laugh at the truth of that. 

“That’s to put it lightly.”

“How about you? No prospects set up in your future?”

“Merlin, no.” You scoffed, an almost ironic chuckle following. “My parents would never offer me up to anyone. I’m too…risky. Stubborn and prideful too. They’ve given up on my romantic life and only care about the career aspect of it.”

“I wish that was me.” Yoongi shifted closer, his thigh touching your stocking-covered feet, shoes already on the hardwood floor. 

As if testing the waters of your strange friendship with him, you stretched your legs lightly only to rest them across his lap, and he turned an amused gaze towards you at the action but didn’t push them off. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Your voice was teasing as he shook his head. 

“You want a foot massage at that too, Greengrass?”

“If you’re offering-” Your words cut off in a slight squeal as his fingers tickled the underside of it. “Stop it!”

Luckily he did, but not before grinning mischievously, instead resting his hands on your calves surprisingly relaxed. This was the closest the two of you had ever been in the last two months since the train, a strange yet not-so-abnormal development. 

“We should probably get back down before they start looking.”

Yoongi hummed, agreeing to your statement. “We should.” Yet he didn’t bother moving.

Looking up from your lap you were surprised to him already staring at you. Or observing might be the better word, because there was no hiding the curiosity shining in those, frankly, hypnotizing brown eyes. 

Licking your dry lips, his eyes flickered down to the motion as you clicked your tongue almost smugly. “Anything interesting to see?”

Your body stiffened unexpectedly at the warmth of his surprisingly large hands curling around your calves, his lean body leaning forward with a small, suspicious smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to seduce me, Greengrass.”

Flicking up a brow, you kept your nonchalant attitude. “And if I was?”

“That would be quite the scandal, wouldn’t it?” He kept his voice low, lower than his natural voice which was already deep enough to sometimes grate against your skin. “I’m to be your future brother-in-law after all.”

“Thought you weren’t interested in marriage?” You couldn’t help but goat him further, straightening in your lounged position against the pillows that drifted you further towards him. 

“Would still cause a scandal.”

“I don’t peg you for someone who gives a shit,” Your blunt words were rewarded with a huff of his low laugh as you swallowed. Were you nervous? 

“Well, now you’re just tempting me,” Yoongi’s dark eyes were dangerously intense, looking you over as if you wore something much more interesting than the rumpled Hogwarts uniform. 

“Tempting you?” You repeated, not managing to keep your laughter at bay, lips slightly pulling back and revealing your teeth in a small grin. “Didn’t know I was someone able to tempt you.”

His surprise this time seemed to be genuine. “Are you serious?”

Your arms crossed almost defensively. “What?”

“You don’t think guys are interested in you?”

“I didn’t say that,” You replied calmly. “Even so, they hardly make the effort to let me know they’re interested.”

“I told you, it’s the evil smirk and glare you always waltz around with.”

You kicked his leg again in retaliation, as Yoongi laughed, managing to grab a hold of it and tug you forward surprisingly quickly for his lazy demeanor, your thighs now resting sideways on his lap. 

“You are a menace,” You muttered, no real ire in the words, gaze flickering back up to his. 

He was thinking about something, or considering it. That much was obvious to your keen eyes, but you weren’t sure of the specifics. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?” He sounded a bit too relaxed, however. 

“You’re thinking awfully hard about something,” You pointed out almost a little bit too obnoxiously. It didn’t seem to bother him. 

His tongue dragged along the inside of his lower lip as he gave himself just a couple seconds to debate saying what immediately came to mind. 

“I’m thinking of kissing you.” 

Your breath caught, throat seemingly drying up at the bold admission. Your widened eyes taking him in and expecting a joke to follow the words. But he remained scarily serious, lips never twitching up into a smile, only taking in your reaction carefully.

Bloody hell, he was being serious.

As if opening some secret door in your mind, your eyes really took him in this time around. Starting from his immaculate black clothes to his hands and ending at his face, his surprisingly soft-looking lips capturing your attention. 

“That’s…certainly interesting,” You croaked, not managing anything else.

Those mesmerizing pink lips pulled up into the hint of a smirk, feeling much closer than before. “Is it?”

“Scandalous, actually,” You whispered nearly dazed, before managing to look into his eyes again. 

Shit, he was close. Suddenly comprehending the warmth of his hands placed on your thighs above your skirt, the blanket having somehow slipped to the floor and his face only inches away from your own. 

“Very scandalous,” Yoongi hummed, a low sound that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit. “But tempting, no?”

He was getting closer, only a whisper of a breath away from yourself. His breath was fresh, probably having brushed his teeth before arriving with the smell of his spicy, yet tantalizing cologne tickling your nose. 

“They could kill us for this.” There was no secret who they were, with both of your families still waiting downstairs, oblivious to the thoughts both of you were having in the privacy of your room.

"Your best friend is Albus Potter. I'm sure he can convince his father to spare us from the wrath of our uptight parents."

His joke hardly helped.

Your attention was suddenly reminded of the still open door, but before you could say anything it gently flicked shut with a wave of Yoongi’s wand and a murmur of a spell, which you recognized as a silencing spell as well as a detection one just in case.

“Are you afraid?” His whisper ghosted over your skin, the familiar hint of your defiance returning to his satisfaction, scoffing and giving a look of ‘Really?’

He continued, aware of his selfish desires as his goading continued, but not caring enough about the consequences to stop. “What’s stopping you then?”

You took a deep breath as if trying to calm yourself. But the moment you opened your eyes again, Yoongi knew you had decided as a brow flicked up in expectation. 

“Is it ladies first in this situation then?”

With a grin he hardly noticed on himself, Yoongi surged forward with a hand cupping your cheek as he pulled your lips against his firmly, a breath whooshing out of your nose at the action. There was no hesitation on his part as he pulled one of your legs over his hips and switching your positions so you straddled him. 

Your hands traveled up his nape and curled into the strands of his hair as your mouth opened to return the intense kiss. His tongue licked into your own, as he let out a sigh of relief almost, your heart thundering inside your ribcage, wanting to be closer to him, as you did just that. 

Bodies flush against each other you returned his kiss enthusiastically. Feeling his hands slipping underneath the untucked shirt, your breath hitched. 

Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder what other sounds he could get you make. Your fingers combed their way into the back of his hair, carding through the soft strands of it as he gripped at your hips. One hand dragged heavily up your spine, guiding you to arch further forward and against him.

A protest lay ready on your lips as you felt him pull back, only to turn into a soft moan as his lips traveled down your jaw and the sensitive skin of your neck, head tilting to the side to give him more access. 

Actually, you wanted him to continue his kisses exactly there, finger tightened and trying to hold him there in light demand, as Yoongi chuckled against you, teeth nipping gently in response. 

His mouth returned to yours, intense kisses turning slightly more desperate for you as you shifted, hips rising and aligned with his own before grinding down to chase after the heat that had taken over your body, one place specifically flaring for attention. 

He groaned lightly, body leaning back to give you more access this time around, and you continued the slow roll of your hips, skirt bunching around your waist as his hands left your hips and trailed down the sides of your thighs, the stinging cold of his silver ring following that you hadn’t noticed. 

You felt him hardening quickly beneath your ministrations. But it was affecting you more than him, with only the barrier of your knickers separating your throbbing clit compared to the material of his slacks as well as underwear. 

“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Yoongi murmured softly, finally finding the strength to pull back from your tempting lips. 

“Don’t you dare stop, Min Yoongi,” You breathed out harshly. 

“Oh yeah? Is that a demand, love?” He had the fucking audacity to smile at you, innocently at that, as if he didn’t know what you were going through, his hands cupping the cheeks of your arse and holding you tightly against him.  

With another pointed grind of your hips, you watched in satisfaction as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head with a grunt before fluttering back open, but only making the want in you even needier, your desperate want for him flaring even more. 

With an almost vicious tug of your fingers in his hair to tilt his head back, he hissed at the pinches of pain as you leaned forward to murmur against his ear. “If you do not make me come before leaving this room, I will hex you into oblivion.”

With a hoarse laugh coming from the back of his throat, Yoongi returned to pressing wet kisses against the side of your neck. “You could have just asked, Greengrass.”

He didn’t give you a warning until you felt one of his hands sneakily slip to the front and pull your knickers to the side as his thumb found your swollen clit embarrassingly quickly. Your breath hitched due to your sensitivity before easing out into a moan as he started circling the nub, your hips twitching and rolling slowly as if following the motion.

“So responsive,” Yoongi hummed in satisfaction, gaze locked onto your expression to watch your response to every move of his fingers. 

You felt him slide them between your cunt, finding your wet entrance as he slowly pushed a single, long finger inside, never stopping his torturous, slow circling. Your hands found the nape of his neck, gripping almost too tight. 

“Fuck, stop teasing me,” You begged, practically draped over his body, sweat coating your skin underneath the white blouse. “Please.”

Grappling around to find his face, you pressed your lips desperately against his, trading slow open-mouthed kisses as he continued his dance against your clit while pushing a second finger inside your squelching cunt. 

Your moans started breaking up, hips quickening and trying to chase that building feeling of completion, but his other hand which gripped your hip tightened, pulling you to a stop. 

“If I had known how wet you get for me I would have fucked you sooner,” It was Yoongi’s turn to exhale harshly, your pleasure seemingly affecting himself as his fingers sped up, pulling a long whine from you as your blunt nails dug into his skin. 

Yoongi didn’t seem to mind. 

He felt it coming, the way your whole body was starting to tense up, your continued whisper begging him not to stop, your thighs nearly caging him in as he listened gladly, face tugging into the crook of your neck as his own arousal was throbbing beneath his clothes. 

The moment his thumb pressed down against your swollen nub, you came with a shuddering moan, your walls clamping down on his fingers and pulsing as your thighs shook. His circling slowed down, helping you through your high until you stilled above him, breathing harshly and wiggling to make him stop. 

Listening to the silent demand, he made sure you were watching him as he pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his mouth, sucking your essence off as your half-hooded gaze followed the movement. 

“Delectable,” Yoongi grinned, watching the addicting way you ducked your head in embarrassment, a new emotion coming from you. 

As if realizing what had just occurred, you nearly jumped off him, but stumbled to the side from being seated so long, his clean hand coming up to balance you as your skirt fell back down to cover you. 

Glancing in the mirror, you were shocked at how thoroughly fucked you look. Hair slightly frizzled, clothes askew, and your skin flushed down to your neck. Yoongi couldn’t look more satisfied, leaning back on his hands and taking in your appearance with a quick scourgify charm and cleaning you both up. 

“Stop looking so…smug!” You couldn’t help but huff. 

“Can’t help it,” He grinned again, an expression he offered you much more freely now. “I asked for a kiss but you gave me something much more, love.”

“You started it.” Was your mature reply. 

“And I don’t regret it.”

“Bloody hell!” You cursed, suddenly reminded where the two of you were, and spun around to look at the clock. Fifteen minutes. 

“We need to go.”

For once he nodded in agreement. “You go first. Find some excuse that I’m in the library or something and I’ll be there soon enough.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Why are you not coming?”

As if talking to a child, you followed his pointed gaze towards his lap at the bulging evidence as your mouth parted in realization, a cough scratching against your throat. 

“Right, that’s…my fault. But you are not jacking off in my room!”

Yoongi simply laughed. “I’m not gonna jack off, Greengrass. I only need a few minutes to calm down. Go ahead, alright.”

With another suspicious glance, you relented. 

“Fine.” 

Walking briskly out of your bedroom after making sure everything looked alright, a part of didn’t deny the urge to run away from the bizarre situation that just happened between you two. 

So much that you nearly begged your parents to let you go back to Hogwarts for the evening, in the middle of their tea time before dinner. They let you, luckily. And with a tense goodbye to the Min’s, you rushed out of the dark manor as if fire was licking at your heels, vanishing with the portkey outside the iron gates.

+ 

Min Yoongi was avoiding you. 

An irritating discovery that made the anger in you boil over. 

A strange moment occurred in the common room one night as you stepped inside between Scorpius and Albus to see the man sitting in the leather armchair by the fireplace, only to stand up and leave the moment he caught your eye with a flat expression. 

Obviously, you had expected him to seek you out after your quick retreat from the manor, but that was simply due to the fact you didn’t feel like being in a room of your family after having been finger fucked to oblivion by the one person they wanted as a son-in-law for your sister. 

So you had waited, tensely at that, for days for him to find you. Days went by until you managed to see the first sight of in in the Great Hall with his usual friends. But he had ignored you, or simply not paid attention. 

The second time had been in the halls of your classes, with him coming from the opposite way. But he had been engrossed in a conversation with his Gryffindor friend to the point you were unsure if he had even noticed you. 

It wasn’t until the third time in the common room that you knew for sure the bastard was avoiding you. And you had no bloody clue why, because you weren’t the one to initiate the kiss and cross the line the two of you had drawn. 

It was him. So his mess to clear up, and not yours. 

By the second week of no communication besides exchanged glares from your part, and empty looks from him, you’ve had enough. 

You had a free period - lo and behold, so did he. He was sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by all of his friends, listening silently as they spoke animately around him. 

Everything silenced, however, the moment you stopped behind him, hands on your hips as you stared daggers into him. Yoongi had the nerve to not turn around and face you, despite being aware of you there. 

“Can I help you, Greengrass?” He simply drawled uninterested, igniting the cribbling irritation you were already feeling. 

“We need to talk,” You grinded out, ignoring the obvious looks his friends were exchanging between themselves. 

“About what?”

“You know what!” Was your snap. Ready with another pissed-off retort, he finally heaved heavily before standing up and stepping over the bench. His slightly superior height over yourself added to your anger, as he tilted head in expectation. 

“After you.”

With a glare you lead the way out of the Hall, going until the end of the long hallway and underneath a hidden alcove many didn’t pay attention to. Turning around with arms crossed over your chest, Yoongi leaned back against the stone walls with a bored expression. 

“What the fuck is your problem?”

He didn’t react, only offering you a glance of attention. “Don’t tell me you expected anything?”

“What?”

“It was a bit of fun, Greengrass. Hardly need for a deep conversation after.”

The bloody nerve of him. 

“How dare you!” You spit out, the harshness of those words actually catching his attention. “How fucking dare you. Tricking me, using me for my body and only to avoid me after?”

Guilt flashed in his eyes, of how this situation felt for you as a woman. But it disappeared quickly after, as he steeled himself yet again, features falling flat. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, but that isn’t why I’m avoiding you.”

“Then why?”

“I’m your sister’s fianceé, remember,” He delivered coldly. “If the family knows what we did it will ruin both of our reputations.”

“You know I don’t give a fuck of my reputation!” You shook your head in near dizziness, gesturing between you almost wildly. “I’m trying to fix this friendship.”

“It was a bad idea to begin with. We’re to be family after all. Can’t have us fucking secretly in broom cupboards now, do we?” His crass words somehow managed to make you flinch, the prospective shame of being viewed as the secret sidepiece to your sister’s husband. 

This whiplash of a change in his behavior was slowly drawing your energy. Two weeks ago he had told you there was no marriage if he could stop it, and now he had seemingly already settled into the future role of a pureblood husband. 

Despite only having known each other for nearly three months, you had figured him out fairly quick. He was cold in his interactions with others, and borderline bored. But you had seen him with his friends.

And you.

That gentle smile, teasing quick of his smirk or rare bright grin whenever he truly let himself go without fear of being judged. 

He was a man who cared deeply but hid it beneath an exterior of aloofness and severity due to the demands of his family and expectations of the world. Something the two of you shared, and been able to understand from each other. 

Yoongi was someone who had become dear to you in a short amount of time, even to the surprise of your own friends - who had watched the development in fascination. 

You thought he at least had the decency to feel the same about you. If not a potential lover, then at least a respected friend. 

Brushing his slightly parted black hair back with a hand, he rove another expected gaze over you with a sigh. “If we’re done here-”

“Why do you keep shutting me out?” You spat out in anger, stopping him in his tracks to turn around and walk away. 

His back was tense underneath the black school robe. From your view, you saw how he clenched his teeth to refrain from saying something he would regret. Not that he hadn’t already. Only lucky that you could take a biter fiercer than anyone else. But you didn’t care about filter at the moment. You would be damned if you let him walk away from you without a clear explanation of his change of personality. 

“I said it’s none of your business!” he snapped in return, the first time to raise his voice at you. 

You didn’t bother to hide the scoff coming out of you. “Well, you made it my bloody business the moment you spoke to me!”

Yoongi still didn’t bother to turn around and face you, so you could only see his side profile. Your eyes trailed down to his hands that were tightened into fists by his side. Nails digging into his skin creating marks. His black hair was messier than usual like he’d run his fingers through it too many times during the last hour. 

“Bloody hell, Y/N, just leave me alone,” he whipped around to glare at you coldly, mouth pulled up in a sneer. An expression you had seen many times, but jokingly. Never had it been pointed at you, and you nearly flinched at the viciousness of it. 

You resisted the urge to whip out your wand and curse him into oblivion. With a determined mind, you walked up to him and grabbed his wrist tightly. 

As if trying to squeeze some sense back into him. 

He was void of any emotions. Telling you nothing of what he was feeling, his walls up higher than you had ever seen, reminding you of a fortress to never be shaken. 

“You need to stop pushing me away,” You told him in a hard voice. “Not everyone is out to betray or control you. Fuck, I care about you, okay!”

His eyes flickered down to meet your own, but they still remained blank, making the pit in your stomach grow. 

Yoongi pulled his wrist away from your hold. “Stop caring.”

And then he walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallways of the castle.

+

Christmas came and went.

Your holidays having been spent completely at the Malfoy Manor to your parent’s chagrin.

But you had remained firm in your choice after hearing the Min’s were coming over again with their son to spend more time together for your sister’s benefit. So you had made sure to stay the bloody hell away. 

Min Yoongi had kept to his words since that faithful argument in the hallways, completely ignoring you and acting like you never talked to each other before. Just like it had been the six first years. 

It annoyed you how much you still thought about that heartless bastard. You had done swimmingly well so far until that stupid day on the train. Six years without a single word towards him, yet he had managed to flip your world upside down as if he had been the missing piece in it all along. 

Scorpius had noticed it. Albus had noticed it. For fuck’s sake, even Liam Parkinson who could be as daft as a troll sometimes, noticed it after the argument. 

“So his excuse was that you couldn’t be friends because he’s engaged to your harpy of a sister?” Albus brought it up again one morning during breakfast, the first week back to Hogwarts after the holidays. 

“Yes.” You sighed wearily, at this point having no energy to care anymore. Even though you knew otherwise. 

“Even after he finger fucked you?” Liam deadpanned beside you, as a unanimous groan went through the rest of your friends. 

“That’s disgusting. I don’t need to hear that about my cousin,” Scorpius grimaced, pushing away his nearly demolished plate of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns. 

“You think I have a magical vagina or something, Parkinson?” You flicked up a brow, but Liam being Liam only leaned in with a saucy wink. 

“I could believe it.”

“Merlin, stop it, please.” Albus looked seemingly green from his seat. “You’re basically my sister, so please stop talking.”

“A sister that you made out with last year,” Scorpius muttered loud enough for the group to hear as Albus blushed red to the tip of his ears.

“W-we were drunk!” He argued with a small glare. “I thought we already agreed to let it go.”

“Don’t worry, Al.” With an innocent batter of your eyes, you joined in on the heckling. “You can admit I was a damn good kisser.”

“Shut up.” Throwing a grape in your direction, you simply caught it with a hand before popping it into your mouth with a teasing grin. 

Slinging an arm over your shoulders, Liam sighed almost sadly. “Why does Al get to kiss you, but I don’t?”

Leaning back on a hand, you stared. “You want to kiss right now?” 

He didn’t expect the reply, startling with slightly wide eyes before they narrowed again, detecting the tug of your lips with a waggling finger. 

“You are one sneaky witch.”

“I know,” Sharing a chuckle, all four of you finished breakfast before heading out for a walk in the cold, but sparkling snow-covered grounds warmly wrapped in your scarves and mittens. 

It was a Sunday; everyone was seemingly dead tired after the first week of classes and sleeping beside your group. It was the last year for everyone, so you blamed it on wanting to spend as much time as possible before leaving the castle that had been your home for the last seven years. 

Just as you were about to wrap your green and silver scarf tightly around your neck as the main doors to the grounds came into view, Liam suddenly stood in your path with a suspicious grin. 

“What?” You eyed him slowly.

“From a scale of 1 to 10, how much would you describe your vindictive vendetta against Min? 

Looking to the side to catch the eyes of both Scorpius and Albus, who were obviously biting back smiles themselves, you frowned. 

“What are you babbling on about?”

“Just answer please.”

“I don’t know, 8.5?” The number came to you randomly but seemed realistic enough to describe your feelings.

Liam nodded seriously as if this was some serious discussion. “8.5, certainly very high. High enough for a drastic plan.”

You were confused. Utterly baffled about what he was talking about, simply staring without words to say. 

Then he smirked, but not the kind that you were used to. The one he used to jokingly flirt and try to drag you into stupid situations. This was the smirk you had seen him use against witches enough of times to see them melting at his feet.

However, your wariness only rose. 

“Just don’t hex me, alright?”

“What are you-”

Before you knew it, he grabbed both ends of your scarf and tugged you against him, lips pressing against yours as your eyes widened in shock. 

He leaned back just enough to mutter cheekily. “Just play along.”

Resisting a roll of your eyes, you listened. Letting them flutter shut as his mitten-covered hands came up to cup your cheeks and draw you into the kiss even further. He never used his tongue, only moving his lips against yours which you returned, hands loosely holding onto his waist until he pulled back.

“Hm,” Liam pursed his lips thoughtfully with a nod. “No lie there. Damn good kisser.”

Despite the bizarreness of it, you laughed. 

“That was ridiculous,” Scorpius shook his head, but there was an amused smile playing at his lips. 

“Explain,” You finally demanded. 

It was Albus who came over, grabbing your chin and turning your gaze in the direction of the doors just in time to see the familiar form of Yoongi disappearing from your views. 

Your mouth parted in realization at what Liam had tried to do. 

“You scheming pieces of shit.” Your voice was proud, however, and the boys knew it as they high-fived before pulling you towards the grounds, all of you cackling like idiots.

“Let’s hope things only go up from here, huh,” Liam pulled you into his side while walking, and with a grin you stayed there the entire trip down to Hogsmeade. 

+

You ran into each other not even three days later.

Literally nearly crashing coming from different directions before rounding a corner and you jumped back at the last second. Yoongi had halted as well, startled eyes cooling down swiftly and taking you in before moving to brush past you. 

“How was Christmas?” 

He paused, to your relief. And even replied. “As usual. Nothing interesting despite the dinner.”

“Did your parents leave for Korea?” You remembered him mentioning it in brief passing and how he was supposed to stay at Hogwarts before shit went down at the manor. 

“They did,” A tense nod. “Right after and I returned to school.”

“Ah, right.” Fuck, this was awkward. And ridiculously tense. “I’ll just-”

“And you?”

You were shocked he even bothered to ask. “Good. It’s always a nice time at the Malfoy’s. My aunt Astoria loves Christmas and makes a big deal out of it.”

“The Malfoys, huh.” Yoongi looked like he had eaten something horrid. “I assume Parkinson was there as well?”

Liam? You frowned in confusion, why would he suddenly mention him? “Yeah, he came over for a bit.”

“I see.”

He was acting odd. More than usual. 

Then it went up to you. The kiss from two days ago, that Yoongi had obviously witnessed in his passing and you didn’t even realize. 

You couldn’t stop the chuckle as his brown eyes zeroed in on the sound with narrowed eyes. “What?”

“Nothing,” You shook your head, but your laugh kept spilling out. 

“You obviously find something amusing, Greengrass.”

“You’re the ones who’s amusing.” For the first time in a while, you smiled at him, only briefly, but enough to loosen the tense expression on him. 

“You’re not making sense.”

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Min Yoongi.”

He scoffed, cheeks slightly rosy from the winter cold in the halls and skin looking even paler than usual with the white backdrop from outside the large windows. His hair was still black, no new colour this time around, slightly longer in the nape of his neck but not much changed.

“What makes you think I’m jealous?”

“This right now.” You replied simply but decided not to goad him any further. “I guess the engagement is a go?

Yoongi was considering lying, you could see it. The way he didn’t reply right away was enough of a sign. “My parents…haven’t decided if your sister is a good match for me yet.” He admitted slowly. “Due to the dinner during Christmas.”

“Shocking.” You were anything but. 

Your sister might bear the Greengrass and Zabini names, as well as an acceptable desk job at the Ministry, however, she was shallow and childish. Always craving the best, and wanting to appear the best. Traits that people easily looked through within the first few minutes of meeting her, and you doubted the keen eyes of Yoongi’s mother hadn’t seen the same. 

There were negatives to being a pureblood in the presence of other purebloods. It was a competition of judgment and pride. There was never more than trying to see through carefully built walls, being the first one to win. 

And your family, or sister in this matter had clearly lost with impressing the imposing Min family. 

Yoongi was saying they were considering it. But you both knew that was just a polite way of saying they had already decided that Isla Zabini Greengrass was not worth of their name. 

This was also why you assumed he actually gave you time of the day again. There was no impending marriage to your family pinning him down. No way for him to use the excuses he had made to ignore you the past month and a half. 

“You must be happy.”

“It is a relief.” Honesty, wow. Yoongi must really feel bad.

He was tense, ridiculously so, and you almost wanted to torture him a little more. But maybe not today.

“Are you done having your head up your ass now?”

With that single sentence, his shoulders eased. Face falling into a grim line as his head dropped, guilt coating his whole shape and form. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”

Your lips twitched, repeating. “I know.”

Yoongi finally looked at you, his eyes were so obviously sad it was almost funny. “You don’t know. I was an asshole to you, just because I was afraid.”

“Out of all people in this castle, I’m the one who might just understand your situation the most.”

This time it was his turn to smile, although ruefully. “I know. I was stupid not to see it.”

“What now then?”

“Friends?”

You laughed, loud and clear, the voice ringing out in the empty corridor leading to the Slytherin common room. It took you a few minutes to calm down enough to not burst into new spurts of laughter. 

Yoongi remained silent through it all, wincing as your eyes met his with aq raise of your brows, seeing through his bullshit as easy as walking through a ghost. 

“Cut your bollocks and tell me the truth.”

He swallowed. 

Yoongi obviously didn’t want to be friends. Who the fuck stays friends after kissing as they had. After where his hands had touched your body. Seen a side of you no one else had. Fuck no, not a single part of him wanted to remain as just friends. 

He wanted you, quite frankly. Craved you at this point. 

But not just your body. 

He wanted everything that you could offer him. Your very soul if you were willing. He was ready to accept it all. 

But he couldn’t voice it out loud, fearing what he had done was enough to damage to the little bond that managed to sprout between you. 

“You need to say it,” You coaxed him firmly. “Or else I’ll walk away.”

Fuck, it was now or never. 

“Can you give me another chance?” Yoongi searched your expression carefully, but you were tricky witch even to him. 

“As friends?” You repeated slowly. 

“No, I don’t want your friendship,” He managed to sound more firm this time around, seeing the way your eyes widened only the tiniest bit. “I want you, Y/N. Just you. No strange friendship tip-toeing around each other. I want you with me.” Yoongi paused almost nervously, before adding in a low voice. “If you’ll have me.”

You bit back the grin wanting to spread across your face, skin flushing with the words he offered you so sincerely you almost teared up.

“What about your marriage?”

He waltzed up to you, inches apart as you stumbled back in surprise, the stone wall luckily meeting you for support. His large hands cupped your cheeks lovingly, eyes crinkling up in the corners as he smiled without abandon, sending your heart thumping happily. 

“My parents wanted a Greengrass as a wife.” His thumb brushed over your lower lip as your lips parted, his smile turning into a scheming smirk, muttering against your lips. “Who said they won’t get one?”

You snorted, letting down your guard, hand trailing up his chest and shoulders before wrapping around his neck. “You are one hell of a Slytherin, Min Yoongi.”

And then you kissed him. 

The world and its problems could wait. 

For now, all you wanted was to remain in the arms of the stubborn, prideful man in front of you, kiss him until you both ran out of breath. 

So this has been in the drafts since 2018. Heh.