#i will update down the line anyway but just letting u know if i miss something lmao

[sakuraryomen01]

Valentino.. /Sukuna Ryomen x Female Reader/ .o2

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother,

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 1.413k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 (will be updated..)

a/n:: dear lord, i didn't know a new fanfic would have this kind of attention so soon! i love it, but it's really unexpected ^^ anyways, here's chapter two, and i hope i can keep the pacing of chapters the same~

~~

Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy~

. . .

Should I?

It had felt like a few hours by now since you had first seen Sukuna at your class, when in fact, it's been days. You had been too scared to actually try and talk to him, to see if you could make things right.

What would he say? How would he act?

You didn't know, it was just a matter of time till you worked up the guts to speak to him. Constantly glancing over at his spot where he sat, simply trying to gain a glance from him.

He knew you were here, so why didn't he come say hello to you himself?

"That's all for today, class," Toji announced, running a hand through his hair and making a few students gush in the background. "You may leave a little ahead of time so have some fun before going to your next classes. Be sure to do your homework this evening too, it's twenty-five percent of your grade."

As the commotion of students standing and gathering their things buzzed around the room, your eyes fell onto the back of Sukuna's head again. He was currently packing his things in his bag as yet another suitor waddled over and began talking to him.

He seemed uninterested in the girl's tactics, as he simply stared and shook his head when they asked for a date and number. Sukuna didn't say anything as he put on his jacket and bag and then left.

This would be your only chance, you told yourself as you quickly grabbed your things and tossing your bag over your shoulder.

Rushing out of the room, you headed into the direction Sukuna left and stood confused in the middle of the hall, students and other teachers walking past you as you looked around. Sukuna had simply disappeared into thin air.

Damn, you sighed, fixing your bag up and heading towards your next class. Maybe next time.

. . .

One whole month. Still hadn't talked to Sukuna.

"You mean that little punk-ass kid you liked when you were little?" Getou asked, his weekly visit to your roomies being interrupted by your ranting.

"He wasn't a punk," You said, your cheeks flushed pink. "And it was just a little crush, get over it."

"That's my line."

Getou took a sip from his soda can, clicking to another channel on the T.V. as he waited for your roommate. "Shouldn't you just say hi?"

"I can't," You let out a groan, laying down on the couch next to Getou. "I'm nervous. I haven't seen him in over a decade.. it's insane he's here anyway!"

Getou gave a low chuckle to your little rants, listening calmly until your roommate called on him for her sexual needs. Sighing, Getou crushed his empty drink and stood, petting your head as he walked away.

"Hey, just go talk to him," He said as he tossed his can away, already undressing his torso and undoing his hair pin. "He probably misses you as much as you miss him.. or whatever cheesy romance movie you think you're in."

"I don't think I'm in a cheesy romance movie, asshole," You grunted, turning on your side and pulling up the couches decorative blanket.

Getou soon disappearing into your roomie's room and the sounds of a creaking bed soon echoing throughout the dorm rang loud as you grab the paper with Sukuna's dorm number on it. You quickly grabbed a few other things like your phone and a necktie and exited the, now noisy, dorm.

Quickly tying the tie to the doorknob, you looked up directions for your campus on your phone as you went down the dormitory hall. There wasn't much noise this week, most of your neighbors had practice or were nursing hangovers from their previous party the night before. It was a Friday. Normal behavior for them.

Not you though.

You weren't the average party goer, but you have been to a few with Gojo and Getou, and didn't really enjoy your time shared on scene. Most girls were hooking up with the closest thing they could grab, Gojo being one of the obvious targets and leaving the party with at least two women strapped to each arm.

You understood his charm, though it never worked for you.

"Why don't you just let me?" Gojo would often ask the moment he was drunk enough, his lips a pretty pink as usual with some type of alcoholic beverage tainting his normally minty breath.

"Bet I'd make that pussy cream so hard too~.."

And around then he'd earn a one-way ticket to getting his ass kicked. You were always reminded of how much of a man whore Gojo was during the weekends and breaks for school. Playing with more than one persons heart and ending up with another phone number under his belt.

Though, in your mind, Sukuna's behavior seemed different from Gojo's.

He was quiet and rather harsh to any girls that had wanted to "date" him during his younger years. If you'd even consider dating at such a young age.

Anyways, you had finally made your way into the men's dormitory. A weird smell hitting your nostrils that you assumed was a 'man's smell', though you choose to ignore it as you make your way to the second floor and try to find Sukuna's dorm. It wasn't long until you were stopped by some drunken boys that made you sigh and explain your situation. Though, it fell on deaf ears and you pushed past them to the next floor.

Third floor: No luck.

Fourth: No luck.

You were about to give up when you saw the long awaited number of Sukuna's dorm. With a relieved and nervous sigh, you gave yourself a proud smile and slowly walked up to the door. You didn't hear anything from inside, but you knocked all the more and waited patiently.

After a few agonizing minutes, the door clicked open and you saw a messy haired and sleepy Sukuna. His eyes were dazed and droopy, some indents of the bed sheets he was probably sleeping on imprinted on his face and arms. His shirt was messy and his sweats were not really much different except for their grey color.

It had been so long since you saw him, and it was strange to see such a difference in him.

He didn't have any bandages on him that'd signify that he was just in a fight, minus a band-aid that was on his finger. Sukuna also appeared more mature, and grown. Nothing like the boy that you left behind in the Sticks.

"Ah- H-Hello, Sukuna.." You mumbled to yourself, unable to take in the cute sight of Sukuna being tired. Maybe he just woke up?

"Hmmph.." He responded, rubbing his eye and trying to take in who you were. What was your name again?

"Wait.. Y/n?"

Sukuna's voice let out a croak, coughing as his eyes began to focus on you. There was little hesitation before you smiled even brighter and blushed a little, waiting for a hug from him, even if it was brief.

But what you expected wasn't what you got.

"What are you doing here?" Sukuna asked, his eyes narrowing and his posture changing. He went from tired and leaning against his door frame to arms folded and full attention on you.

It wasn't in a friendly manner either.

"I-I was asked by our Economics professor to come see you!" You stuttered out, feeling a small pit of sadness well inside you at what little recognition he had towards you.

Didn't he miss you? Not even a little bit?

"Well, you can go now," Sukuna huffed, his eyes more red than when he was little. "I'm doing fine."

Such harsh words. Not even a hello?

"Wait, don't you miss me?" You asked, your voice strained, that childish flutter in your heart. "It's been so long, don't you want to get to know each other again?"

"Not really."

Why were you so persistent? It was strange, you've never wanted to see someone this badly. And it had been years since you've even had a thought about Sukuna.

Were you coming down with something?

"Is that all?" Sukuna asked, his voice weak and tired, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes once again. "I want to get some sleep before classes."

"Um.. y-yeah," You mumbled, your heart aching as Sukuna closed to door on your face and left you confused.

Why didn't he miss you?

a/n: already so much attention?! i love it but wow, i was expecting it after a few days not this fast! anyways, idk when i'll be posting the next chapter but i thought i'd tag a few extra ppl that i thought would want to read this fanfiction, but if you wish to not be tagged, tell me. i don't want anyone uncomfortable ^^ i cannot believe it took so long to make this chapter! i'm sorry, i've been working on my Kinktober things! (i plan on posting ten drabbles for the last 10 days of kinktober so i hope i get those out soon><)

Chapter Song Theme: — bei maejor - lights down low // slowed + reverb

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd, @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleeboomed, @fallenfeversstuff, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @ririkaxbz, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir

last chapter || next chapter

[jojo-schmo]

Hello! I just discovered your roleswap comic and I'm eating it up, it's so gooooooood. I don't really ship MetaDede personally, but good gods the way you write them bickering and bantering and the near sync when shit gets serious makes me wanna scream in excitement ekdvsiehrhr

AND PRIMAL BANDANA DEE THO

Absolutely my favorite part of the swap. It just makes me crave for an actual Bandana Dee boss fight that actually does him justice. (also the Prince of Dreams/Beasts title itches something in my heart really well)

I'm not sure if it was intentional or if you even know who I'm talking about, but giving Bandana Dee a Scythe at some point (plus some wind abilities) really reminds me of General Gong the Hawkeye from Patapon, what with the whole high-ranking, scythe wielding, wind-adjacent thing. Probably just a coincidence tho, but I personally love it!

Hope to see the next update! :D

(P.S. while I was reading the comic, some of the links are broken or straight up missing. I'm reading from the Tumblr app so it's a bit of a hassle. Just thought I'd let u know :D)

Hello there!! Oh my goodness, what a wonderful ask, thank you so much for telling me all of this! As a person who thrives on Words of Affirmation, these types of comments mean absolutely everything to me. <3

If I may go on a tangent about the shipping thing because I'm glad you brought that up. It's a huge complement to hear you say that because-

The Roleswap comic is not a story about romance. But it is about love.

While I am a personal lover of metadede and it fueled my initial creation of this story, I want to take the Roleswap AU in a different direction from a story that's focuses on a ship where "the main characters act the way they do because they are in love or a couple." A "partnership" like theirs can possibly be interpreted as a build up to a romance. But it doesn't have to be! So there's no blatantly romantic interactions anywhere in this story like what may be found in my non-Roleswap, specifically metadede labeled content (Like kisses, confessions of love, etc.).

Dedede and Meta do love each other, like the other protagonists of Kirby love each other. Kirby, Bandana Dee, all the other Waddle Dees, the Meta-Knights, and the friends they've made over the years. The love between many of them has developed over the entire series! They've all come a long way from fighting each other to trusting one another and even having fun together!

I see the love between the Kirby protagonists as one where they care about and want the best for each other. They may not always understand the other's thoughts and motivations. But they respect them and learn to complement each other's differences. They protect each other in battle. They grow together and learn to bring out the best in each other.

So how could two very different and powerful authority figures like Dedede and Meta come together to save their friends and family, and navigate a huge world and an unknown conflict together? That's the main question I want to present in this story.

Whatever the interpretation of the King and Knight's relationship a reader may have, I'm most happy about the fact that this comic has readers!!!

Anyway!! Back to your ask! :D

Primal Bandana Dee means a lot to me too! The only reason this comic exists is because I also wanted a cool boss fight for him, and I had just finished playing Forgotten Land for the first time. It all just branched out from there. I wish I could just spill everything I have planned for him, but alas! I have a story with a set order to tell! I will say that if anyone is worried about not seeing him until the Winter Horns area, that he will make appearances before that. Just stay tuned!

And hey. This is an AU of an existing story. We know how the canon ending went already. To keep things interesting I have to include some surprises in my version down the line somewhere, right? ;)

I also haven't heard of Patapon so the resemblance between General Gong and Bandee is a coincidence! I did look it up and General Gong looks cool!! I respect scythe wielders, haha. Thanks for telling me! If this is a game I have the ability to play it could be fun to check it out!

New Roleswap update is coming soon! I feel bad that it's been about a month and I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger. But my personal and work life is slowing down enough for me to make more progress on the next pages! Our heroes will get out of the underground tunnel soon! :O

Maybe I can offer this behind-the-scenes peek of Dedede's internal monologue in the dark tunnel as a thank you for the patience?

Finally, big thanks for letting me know about the broken links! I'll sit down on my computer soon and clean up all the links. I sometimes post on mobile and sometimes on web so maybe that messed some things up.

But if anyone needs a non-tumblr reading experience, I've also hosted the story on Comic Fury for a simpler navigation! Link is in the pinned masterpost on this blog, but also here: https://forgottenlandroleswap.the-comic.org/

Thanks for reading this director's commentary! Toodle-oo!

[smoosnoom]

Hello!! I’ve been a fan of your fics for a while and I was wondering what your writing process is like? I haven’t written a fic in ages and I honestly miss it, so I was wondering how you tend to get started or find inspo :^)

u are so kind hello thank u so much i am glad u enjoy the things i write !!!! it means the world :D !!!

hmmm . i actually havent been writing any fics as of late but thtas mostly been for how stressed and busy i have been . but !!! i can tell u that my process is very much . a lack of one . i write oddly and strangely and i am a mess about it . i usually write a few lines in a scene and jump around from one part to another, wherever i feel my mind leaning towards i tend to go there and feed it ! its not very much a process as it is an . experience .

however, if im very much intentionally trying to get started on a fic i usually just . open up a doc and write the first sentence that pops up in my head . it doesnt matter if it is the most mundane and uninteresting thing, because the first draft is very rarely perfect . the main goal is to have something written down, because if u keep going, then that one mundane sentence builds up to create a showstopping paragraph and thats where u get the most motivation and satisfaction !!! so id say if ur very caught up with urself and thinking that nothing ur writing is good enough and u keep backspacing and have urself stuck in the same spot, then just . keep writing . keep going forward even if its grueling and absolutely terrible . after u have dug urself a tunnel out of that hole, u can go back and make it a proper staircase . u just need to get to where u want to be, and once u are satisfied or content, u can go back and fix what u want

if u find urself unable to do that, then i say seek out other media that really entices or evokes emotion in u . nothing (in my opinion) is as inspiring as a good piece of fiction or art or music or dance ! listen to music u wouldnt usually listen to or check out a friends movie recommendation, just try to push yourself out of the usual things you watch or read or listen to on repeat . taking the time to listen to something new and finding one good song that sticks with me for three weeks is the kind of stuff that has me writing 4 fics in one month !!!

anyway . i hope some of this was helpful or useful at all, if none of it was or if i just . didnt do a very good job of answering ur question, then let me know :) and the most important part of the writing process is just that, to write !!! write whatever it is, and if ur stuck in a block or arent proud of anything ur writing, then write the first thing in ur brain ! if u dont like that either, then thats fine !! just keep going until u find a rhythm . and if u dont, try again and again and again ! i am a firm believer in that trying makes all the difference . is that too cliche idk ! but i think its true

so . anywho . please let me know if any of this is actually useful to u :) id love to know how it goes, and please feel free to drop by with an update or anything !! thank u for the ask !!!!

[littl3-val3ntine]

every breath you take (pt. 3) ❥ edward nashton

PART ONE / PART TWO

《♡》

summary // riddler always has everything planned, from the moment his plot begins up until the day after it has happened. he expects himself to be able to expect everything, until his mind is taken elsewhere during a routine stakeout on the police response to his latest hit... now he finds himself, as well as the item of his affection, caught up in his issues and lust for vengeance.

warnings // OHJ GOD LMFAO, gn! smut (I SECTIONED IT, ITS UNNECESSARY TO THE PLOT SO FEEL FREE TO SKIP), typical creepiness that's consistent for this fic, switch!eddie, light choking and kinda voyeurism?, possessiveness, creampie whoops

author's note // hey besties... ur boy just dislocated his knee so sorry for the later update :,)) this one's good nd long though to make up for it.

part 4 will be the last part to this fic, so thank you for joining me along the ride. more 2 come! just kinda done with this one lolz

anyways do enjoy!! love u muah! ^^

《♡》

You swear you recognize this car.

It’s not like it’s all that generic, either. A little burgundy sedan, just old enough to have one whispering to themself, “Huh, what a neat car,” but not so old that it’s antique. It lives somewhere deep in your mind that you’re not quite sure of. God, it’s familiar…

You brush it off. Maybe you just remember it from the parking lot at the press office.

You glance over at the man in the driver's seat, bathed in red light from the traffic signal overhead, to find him white-knuckled around the steering wheel and staring absently ahead through the windshield. The car ride up until now has been characterized by a loaded silence, as if there's things both of you could be saying but aren't. Granted, it has only been about a minute or so since he all but sped out of the parking lot at the hospital, but even so, that's about halfway down to Grange Street, where your car is parked.

The doctor was wise to warn you not to drive. Not only are you dead tired, nearly dozing off in the passenger side of Edward's car, on top of that your mind is still foggy from the sedatives in your system. It takes you a good couple seconds to realize the stoplight before you had changed, even while you were zoned in, unconsciously, on the bright colors.

He doesn't touch the accelerator. Instead, he just gazes blankly into the road ahead, brows furrowing.

You don't have half a mind to follow his line of sight. "Edward," you whisper, "The light's green."

He seems startled by your voice. "Oh, yeah. Sorry."

The engine hums back to life and the car rolls through the intersection, only to slow to a halt a few meters later upon reaching a police road block. So that's what he was staring at.

"I-I think I know another way around—"

He moves his grasp to the gearshift, sliding it back into reverse and throwing his arm over the back of your seat to look through the rearview window. He's leaning over the console and you can feel his warmth again, his closeness bringing with it that same electricity that you missed. The weak glow of streetlights ahead paint his skin— his face, his clavicle exposed by the loose collar of his shirt, the space where his jaw meets his neck— and he looks like a sculpture, all smooth porcelain and fine detail.

You stop him with your fingers against his chest, telling him something about seeing your car up ahead and how you could just walk over to retrieve your bag and house key to save time. He doesn't necessarily realize your exact words. All he's aware of in that moment is your touch.

Edward just nods abstractedly, and then you're getting out of the car before he can even come back to his senses. He misses you immediately. Watching your every move, something heavy in his chest tugs at him and begs to reach for you. He can't let you leave. What if you get in your car and drive off? And then he'll never see you again. It's safer for you in his car.

Shaking away the thoughts rambling on in his mind, he surveys the alleyway for anything— or anyone— that might become an issue along your walk down to your car. Even upon finding nothing, he's still tempted to get out and walk with you. Just to make sure. But he doesn't.

His eyes find you again, halfway into your car and bent over the seat as you reach for your bag. Jaw falling open just slightly, his breath hitches, neck craning forward as if it'll get him a better view. Unconsciously, he commits the scene to mind; the dip of your spine as you disappear into the vehicle, how the light from the moon and the neon OPEN sign above hits the curve of your ass, the way you sit back onto your heels to stand upright. He follows your arms as you stretch them into the air, your back arching almost impossibly and head falling back against your shoulders. He can only imagine the sound you must have made when you stretched like that, the satisfied groan leaving your lips and the sigh of content as you relaxed your body again.

You must be so sore from the hit you took, and that bed at the hospital couldn't have been comfortable. The things he'd do for you, if only you'd ask him... he knows he'd treat you so well. Every aching muscle you could possibly have, he'd be willing to rub it to relief. Anything that could inconvenience you, he'd be there to eliminate it for you. He would kill for you. It wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that he already has.

Anything, if it means you’d forgive him for the way he hurt you tonight.

But before he can indulge further in his thoughts, his passenger side door swings open and you sink down into the seat, bag in your lap. You look over at him and offer a warm smile, as if to silently say, "You can start the car now, I'm ready." And somehow, he understands, as he offers back a whisper of a grin and turns the key in the ignition.

"So, uh, where are we headed?" he asks, as if he doesn't already have your address imprinted in his memory.

And none the wiser, you tell him: "Oh, I'm in the Sycamore Apartments, over on Fifth Street." He flicks his blinker on, nodding before you even finish your sentence. The silence falls over you both again, and the clicking noise fills the car.

"Thank you for driving me home, by the way. I really appreciate it," you say, desperate to break the ice. He just waves you off as if it's the most normal thing in the world. As if you two aren't basically strangers— at least, as far as you're concerned.

"It's nothing. Really, it's for my sake. Peace of mind, I guess." Though it's dim in the car, you swear you see that tiny boyish grin again. He never did smile much. When he does, even just a little, it makes something in your chest flutter. Like you're sixteen again and passing a cute guy in the hallway.

"What," you tease, your tone thick with sarcasm, "Couldn't trust me enough to make it home on my own?"

His eyes blow wide in panic. "Oh, I— No, that's not what I meant at all! I just—"

"Edward."

He looks at you, his cheeks turning dark. You can't help but to laugh. He's so easy. "I was just kidding."

"Oh," he murmurs, settling back into his seat. He raises a brow, removing one hand from the steering wheel to lean his elbow on the center console, all calm and collected like. Clearing his throat, he tells you, "No yeah, absolutely. I uh, knew that from the beginning."

You chuckle again, pulling another smile from him. "Oh did you, now?"

"Yeah. What, you don't believe me?"

"No dice, Mr. Nashton."

He exhales slowly, like a content sigh. You notice his breath hitch, almost undetectably, as you shift in your seat and lean against his forearm on the console to look out the window. He swallows audibly. "You know, you really ought to stop calling me that," he mutters, turning onto Fifth Street and slowing in front of your apartment.

"Why's that?" You turn to him. The muscles in his arm tense as your skin slides against his sleeve. "I think it's got a nice ring to it."

It makes him want to press you face-first into a wall. "It makes me feel like I'm at work."

"Hm, fair enough." Collecting your bag from your lap, you sigh. You're not ready to let the moment go, uncertain of when you'll see something like this again. You two, alone in his car...

You stop yourself before you can get too deep. What, have you got a crush on him or something?

He's looking at you as if he's got something to say, eyes dropping briefly to your lips and then to where your chest meets his forearm. Your eyes, however, don't leave his face. You're so close you can watch every thought in his mind play across his features, but somehow not close enough to distinguish what any of them mean. You're stalling...

Oh, what the hell.

"Do you maybe want to come inside for a few? I think we could both use a drink after... tonight." Maybe you aren't thinking. Or maybe you are thinking, just not with your head. Either way, the thought that illuminates his face right then is clear as day— Yes.

"Are you sure? It's late..." The way he's looking at you is begging you not to change your mind. The idea sits in the way back of your head, screaming, Don't let him inside! But you've already made your decision.

"Yeah it’s late, but I'd feel bad, you know? If you drove me all the way home and I didn't even pay you back." He thinks about it for a moment, having a debate in his own mind that lasts a good few seconds. It's not long, though, until he cuts the engine and nods.

“I’d love to, actually.” Worrying now that he sounds too forward, he adds, “It’s been a while since I’ve had a good drink.”

You grin, satisfied. Trying your best to choke down the childish excitement that bubbles up in your throat, you turn from him and pull up the lock-knob on the car door. Right as you swing your legs out the open door, there he is— looking like a phantom, tall and slender against the distinct Gotham gloom— holding out his hand to help you up.

“Well, thank you,” you chirp as he raises you into the night air. “Quite the gentleman.”

He laughs through his nose. “Hardly.”

There’s a certain danger to the way he responds. Like a warning. You don’t think too much of it as you’re gliding up the metal stairway to your front door, shaky-legged and eager to get inside, but upon looking back on it later it all made much more sense.

While you’re standing there, fumbling to get your key in the lock, your gaze drifts. And your heart catches for a moment, at the sight of it. You’re sure now, Yeah, it’s definitely a crush.

There he is, climbing the steps up to your front porch, blond hair askew and falling into his face as he’s careful not to slip. You turn back quickly, plunging the key in. The lock clicks and you disappear inside.

“It’s a bit of a mess,” you admit, hurrying to gather your coat from the back of the couch and stow away the empty takeout box on the end table. “I wasn’t really expecting anyone.”

He chuckles, something quiet and gentle, but still it rings through the small room. Shutting the door behind him, he assures you his place is worse. Your guest glances around, taking in the color of the walls and what covers them, and what’s on the tables and how you didn’t seem to know how to close a set of blinds to save your soul. Committing it all to memory. So this is how it looks from the inside. There’s that picture he always sees through the window.

“You can have a seat, if you’d like.” You brush past him as he’s looming awkwardly in the doorway. “What, uh… what do you drink?”

He trails you into the kitchenette, dropping into a chair just beside the counter. Reaching up to the cabinet above the table where he’s sat, you find yourself nearly leaning over him to get to the alcohol. He peers up at the shelves as you pry open the wooden door— it’s been a while since you’ve dug into it.

Crown Royal. Shitty vodka from your friend, a housewarming gift. Cognac you brought to a party a couple months back, and returned home with, unopened. Your collection was slim, but you assured him, “I’ve got wine in the fridge as well, if you’re interested.”

“May I have a glass of wine?”

You look down at him. And he’s gazing up at you, eyes soft. So polite. “Of course, that would have been my choice as well.”

He smiles again. He’ll remember that.

He likes this view of you. Leaning into the fridge, hunting for something, brows furrowed. There’s something domestic about it. And while he realizes it’s just a fantasy, in the moment you’re finding the wine he allows himself to slip into a world where you both are here, together, coming home from work and settling in for a drink. One where he’d make dinner and let you rest in his lap on the couch afterward. You’d fall asleep together, wake together, over again…

Clink.

The sound of glass colliding with cheap marble yanks him from his thoughts. There you are again, just inches from him, pressed against the countertop as you concentrate on pouring the wine. Careful not to spill and stain the surface. He always loved how you looked when you focused.

Once both glasses are half-full, he rises and takes one in his hand. “Thank you,” he hums, and he raises the glass to his lips for a leisurely sip. You don’t realize his eyes locked on you while you stare, his mouth forming perfectly around the rim of the glass. Catching yourself, you glance away.

“No need to thank me. It’s the least I could do.” You settle beside him, hopping up to sit on the counter while he leans his hip against its edge. Chuckling, you remind him, “The wine isn’t even that great.”

You don’t trust yourself to hold the glass, so you release it from your shaking hand to the surface beside you. “Oh, I’m not picky,” he all but whispers. “Besides, it’s not every night I get to drink with friends. I’d be stupid to complain.”

You huff out a sarcastic breath. “It’s not every night my boss is in my apartment, either.” You meet his eyes again. He’s holding you there, and he’s not even touching you. His eyes have gone stoic.

You’re pressed between him and his desk. Holding each others’ gaze, waiting to see who breaks first. Testing the waters. How far can we push it?

“I suppose I’m not complaining either, though,” you add. There’s a beat of silence as he ponders his next words, eyebrows raising as he takes another lazy sip from his glass.

“Since when am I your boss?”

You feel your cheeks warming, and finally you look away. “Well, maybe that wasn’t really the word for it, but you know what I mean. You’re definitely my superior, but I guess you’re not really my boss— that would be a little weird, actually, you don’t really seem like the boss type…”

Amidst your rambling, he mutters, “It would certainly complicate things.”

And you pause. He furrows his brows, as if he wasn’t expecting you to hear that. A hint of panic splashes across his face.

“Complicate things?” you urge him.

He shakes his head, beginning to turn away. “It’s nothing.”

“No.” You reach for him, fingers curling around the loose fabric of his sleeve. He tenses, his body stuttering for a second, but he doesn’t leave. He stays there, right where you hold him. “What did you mean?”

A doe-eyed stare falls on you again as he cranes his neck over his shoulder to look at you. And there you are. Locked in eye contact again, silently challenging one another as the room becomes pressurized. Pressing you two together until someone breaks. You feel his muscles tensing and untensing beneath your fingertips as he chooses his words.

I just want a straight-forward answer, Edward.

“It’s just a bit strange for someone’s… superior, to be in their home this late, no?”

“I thought you said you weren’t complaining.”

Your breath is speeding up. You’re sure he notices, because his is speeding up, too. He turns back to you again, this time bringing him so close to you that you feel the chill of his belt against the skin of your outer thigh through your clothes. It sets your senses alight, your entire body tingling to attention at the slightest touch. And there it is again, that hand coming down to post on the edge of the countertop beside you, keeping you tucked between him and something so suffocatingly unmovable for the second time that month. Except this time, his confidence is dormant. He’s all whispers and soft linen, his bottom lip stained red.

“I’m not,” he murmurs. Head tilted forward, even with his hair falling down into his face, his eyes still gleam in the dim light from the kitchen lamp as he looks down at you. You can almost feel his breath on your face as he continues, almost silently, breathlessly, “I told you. I would be stupid to complain.”

Your back is arching into him instinctually. The need for him is primal, unlike any way you’ve ever needed someone prior. Your eyes are resting on his lips, recalling how they pursed around the glass, curled into a gentle smile, caught between his teeth sometimes when he’d think. Wondering if you could taste the wine on his tongue. He’d make it taste so good.

His jaw hangs as he exhales a shaky breath, leaning in further to place his glass down next to yours, right behind your far hip. He doesn’t draw back his hand. His hair, stringy and soft, tickles your forehead. His entire body is close. Close enough you could almost feel his lashes against your skin as his eyelids fall slowly shut. Hesitantly, he maneuvers his hips to slink between your knees, quick to return to that sphere of closeness you both have created.

You’re hardly breathing. Feeling weightless on your perch at the counter, you brace your palm against his warm chest to keep your balance. His heart pounds mercilessly against the skin. Trailing upward, you gently brush the hair from his face.

How far could you push it?

Your lips meet. Featherlight at first, but he doesn’t last long. His hands curl around your hips, drawing you against his body as your own rest against his arms, in his hair, anywhere you can find purchase. The pain in your finger is long forgotten against the sensation of him.

It’s open mouthed, sloppy and desperate. Small noises and wandering hands. It’s nothing like he’d ever imagined it would be. In a way, that only serves to excite him further.

His lips are chapped, but they’re warm and wet nonetheless and he kisses you as if you’re fresh air and he’s been drowning. His embrace is possessive. He tugs you into himself and groans something guttural, animalistic. He’s never letting go.

His mouth moves eagerly and without expertise, small sounds escaping the back of his throat as you press further into him. His touch slides tentatively up your back, only to crash back against the marble as he collapses into the dip of your shoulder. His ministrations don’t stop, and he probes the delicate skin beside your throat with his lips and tongue. Incoherent, he’s a mess, sobbing into your body how beautiful you are, how scared he’s been, how badly he needs you.

Please, please, he needs you. He needs you so badly his entire body aches. He’ll do anything. He knows it’s wrong, and he knows he shouldn’t want this, but he’s been so hungry for you for so long and it’s all he ever thinks about when he sees you.

You pry him away from your neck, which is now raw and likely marred by his ravenous mouth, by getting a fistful of his hair and tugging. The sound that leaves him is inexcusable, whining desperately like a bitch in heat, but all is made right again when you caress his face and thumb at his swollen lips.

His pupils are blown to saucers, peering down at you unwaveringly as he looms between your legs. Knowing well he’s hanging on your every word, you ask him softly, directly, “Do you want this?”

His face contorts like he’s about to cry. He sinks into your touch, burying his face in your palm, nodding frantically. “I do. M’want it, so bad… I need…”

“What do you need, Eddie?”

He sucks in a shaky breath. Eddie. He liked that. “You. You, you… I want to feel you, I’ve been thinking about you so long…”

You figure he could tell you about that later. For now, you guide his face back to your lips again, and whisper against his mouth.

“Have me.”

X X X

For being long and lean, he’s stronger than you expected. He sweeps you from the countertop with ease and hauls you off down the hall, hands planted firmly underneath your thighs to hold you tight against him.

You don’t remember telling him where your bedroom was. Once you lock your legs around his back and feel his hips— and something else— grinding right into where you need him, though, you can’t really bring yourself to mind.

Edward turns to nudge open the door with his shoulder, and he doesn’t even bother closing it. He’s too preoccupied with bracing his forearm against your back and laying you gently against your blankets, letting you down so easy he must have thought you’d break at the slightest touch. His body doesn’t separate from you. All of his weight is on top of you, around you, firmly against you. Your legs still curl snugly around him, with his face in your chest and his hands drifting up your thighs.

His hips are already rutting into you, restricted by the clothes that still, to his dismay, divide your bodies. The incessant throbbing between his legs tells him that he would have been perfectly content, had you told him to, to grind against you like a puppy until he got off, but once you tug at the back of his shirt collar he’s just as eager to be free of it.

He fumbles with the buttons on the sleeves, whimpering in frustration when they don’t come undone. “Here,” you prod. You take them between your fingers to help him, to guide him. Like Edward, they come undone quickly beneath your skilled touch.

Not even bothering with the buttons along the front, he yanks it over his head and discards it somewhere off the bedside. You glance in its general direction, but instead you’re greeted by the city staring back at you through the wide-open window.

“Edward,” you push at his shoulder, but he’s engulfed in kissing at your neck again. The most you get is a distracted hum. Squirming, you tell him, “We gotta close the window—“

“No.” He posts up on his elbows to get a look at your face, and his eyes are wild as they land on you. A surge of ferocity rips through him, uncharacteristic compared to how he was writhing against you not moments ago. “I don’t give a fuck who sees. Hell, they can watch. So they’ll all know.”

Let them all watch him as he makes you his. As he drives his dick so deep into you that he can be certain no one else will ever fill you so well again. And when you inevitably wake up tomorrow and dress for work, and try your best to cover his marks and bruises all over your neck with makeup or jewelry, let them peek out in the spots you missed and remind everyone in the office you’re not to be touched. Not to be looked at. Not even to occupy space in another’s mind.

His.

He’s back on you in an instant, tugging on your belt and then sliding down your body to rid you of your bottoms. His breath, hot and heavy, cascades against your inner thigh as he rests his face against it. Eyes closed, he nips at the supple flesh with his open mouth. The warm hand returns to busy itself with squeezing at your opposite leg.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, trying to draw him closer to where you need him. You lift your hips so he can remove your underwear. He dips his head between your thighs, mind going foggy as he takes you in.

A soft mouth accepts you without prompt. His tongue moves against you eagerly, lapping at the nectar that drips from your heat. Your head falls back against the pillows, losing yourself in the wet euphoria he gives you and the muffled noises he makes as he all but suffocates on you.

He doesn’t need to breathe. He’d never been so hungry— never had something so sweet ever graced his tongue. If he choked there, in between your thighs, he’s sure he’d have spent his afterlife bragging.

He lifts his head with a greedy inhale, filling his lungs as he was just starting to get lightheaded. Spit, among other things, coats his lips and the corners of his mouth, and his hair is disheveled from your pawing at it. The smile on his face is unlike any you’ve seen before— something adjacent to deranged. Manic. He’s just getting started.

“I’ve spent so long wondering how you taste,” he whines, rising into all fours to return to his place on top of you. He sits back on his haunches right between your spread legs, the dusting of blond hair on his chest catching the moonlight as his muscles move beneath the skin. The darkness of the room beyond him frames his body, but he seems to glow above you, humming with energy, while he undoes his belt.

His words finally register in your head. “You have?” you affirm weakly, finding it hard to breathe. The smile only widens, tongue pressing insolently against his bottom teeth.

“I have.”

Slipping out of his trousers and briefs, he leans over you again, pressing his nose into your temple. “You’re better than I could have ever imagined," he whispers, taking the hem of your shirt between his fingers. You get the hint. “I don’t know how I’ve possibly kept myself away this long.”

A shuttering groan escapes from deep within his throat just at the sight of you. Now completely bare, you let the shirt fall from your fingers, raising your arms above your head to toss it to the floor. His hands follow, pinning your wrists.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to again.”

You feel it. Warm and thick, pressing into your thigh. His head drops to the crook of your neck. By instinct, you let your legs drift further apart, all but inviting him inside.

He moves his hips at an excruciating pace, sliding his dick slowly against your skin, so close to where you need him. Every so often, he loses control, his hips bucking forward despite his best efforts. You squirm beneath him, mumbling desperately, dumb from arousal— “Please, Eddie”— but he doesn’t relent. His grip around your wrist only tightens.

“Say it. I need to hear you say it.” Holding you down with one hand, he hooks the other under your knee to poise his dick right against your hole. Barely breaking the surface.

Your mind is reeling. “Please!”

“As nice as you sound when you beg,” he quips, panting, “I want you to tell me you’re mine. I need… I need to hear it. Need to.” His fingers dig into your thigh. “Say it. Who do you belong to?”

What little composure he had before is long lost. His entire body trembles above you, like a live wire about to erupt into flames. His cock jumps against your skin, aching to be inside.

“You—!” Your breath is cut short. The stretch that burns between your legs makes your entire body feel limp, giving itself to his touch as he shapes you around his dick.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. Only making it halfway inside before you clench around him, he slides back out to the tip. He releases your wrists, setting you free to let your hands roam again, and slides his arms around your waist as he holds you down onto his cock. Teeth scrape against your throat, weakly resisting the urge to bite down.

His thrusts soon become erratic and quick, reaching deeper inside of you than you ever thought possible and breeding you like a rabbit. Whining, babbling incoherently, gazing at you thoughtlessly, his eyes are lidded— Mine, mine, mine.

“Feels so fucking… oh god, so tight…”

Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding on for any essence of control. Tightening your grip into a fist, you feel his jaw fall open in a silent scream. The mewl that escapes him is pathetic. He likes that. He loves that.

"That feel good, Eddie?" It leaves your lips like honey. He nods fervently into your neck, abandoning the air of dominance he'd played with earlier. The warm body above you, inside you, melts into your touch, offering himself to you. Begging you to take him.

And you do.

It comes naturally, telling him how good he feels, how good he is for you, good, good, good. The bruising rhythm of his hips falters as he loses himself in your praise, mumbling things you couldn't understand and heating the skin of your bare chest with his breath.

You give him another tug. He yelps, his dick stilling within you while you hold his head up to face you by his hair. Glossy eyed, you swear there's tears sliding down his cheeks. Pathetic.

"What happened, baby?" You clench around him, just to hear him squeal. He does. "Not so big and strong anymore, huh? What happened to all that confidence?"

His face twists, and a small sob wracks his frame. He goes to return his face to the crook of your neck, but he's stopped by another yank to his hair.

"Ah—!"

"Use your words, honey. Why are you crying?" A tinge of worry invades your question, but something in you screams in delight at the way you've broken him. At just how easy it was.

There's so much he could say. How he never believed he'd get this far. He could tell you just how many nights he'd spent, dick deep in his fist, thinking about this, and how he can't even contain himself now that it's finally happening. How he's waiting to wake up from this cruel dream to an inevitable wet spot of cum on his mattress, as he has done frequently in the past. The way he needs you right now, to fill you and let you claim him, to hear you decide he's worthy of even the littlest passing thought. To beg you to use him if it means he can take up space in your mind. He wants to sink into the softness of your skin and let you hold him there. How the second he felt you squeezing his dick, he vowed never to leave your bedsheets— he'd stay there, in your bed, waiting for you all day until you return home so he can lay in your arms again like a lapdog. He'd let you whore him out for your own pleasure. Reduce himself for a warm body for you to use if it means he got to be yours.

He can’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he opts for a weak whimper as he tells you, "Need you..."

It wasn't a lie. In this moment, you're the oxygen he breathes— the only thing registering in his mind is how your body moves against his. Committing it to memory for when he inevitably has to let you go. Once you wake up tomorrow and realize who you've taken to bed. The way you'll look at him—or not look at him, even worse— in the days to come. The crushing reality that he will have to return to his spot across the street and observe you from your window again, teased by the events of tonight and the remnants of your touch on his skin.

But you're facing him now, picking apart his expression with eyes unwavering, glowing with adoration. Fully aware and generally sober, you know it's Edward Nashton.

You see him.

He's pulled back to reality by the breathiness of your voice, whispering to him, Oh, come here, baby. The voice from his dreams calling to him again.

Without hesitance, he collapses back into you. His hands squeeze your hips, anchoring you to him as his hips pick up in speed.

His dick slides against your walls with ease, and you feel him twitching inside of you. You caress his back, coaxing him toward his release, chasing your own. He moans softly, mindlessly, " 'm gonna cum..."

The weight of his body lifts away from you, just barely enough to make space for his fingers to snake between your bodies and stroke you. "Cum with me," he begs, "Please, I wanna... wanna make you feel good."

Feeling the coil deep in your belly, you dig your nails into his shoulderblades and buck your hips into his touch. It doesn't take long, between his mewling in your ear and the heat of his fingers against the sensitive skin between your legs, until you're almost there, clinging to him and clenching unwillingly around his cock.

"Eddie, I'm close—"

"Please cum, please, please... oh, my god, I wanna— I wanna see you." He posts on his elbow so his face hovers above yours, your breath mingling with his and making you dizzy.

You bring your trembling palm against his cheek. He watches your eyes roll back into your skull as your release washes over you, your entire body jolting with the force of it. The low groan that leaves you sends him toppling over his own edge, burying himself deep within you and spilling himself into your body. He lets his forehead fall against yours, a thin veil of sweat dampening his skin. The room fades into a half-awake sort of silence as each of you breathe each other's air, recovering.

When you open your eyes again after a long moment of basking in his closeness, and your own fullness, you find him already gazing down at you. The look in his eyes isn't any different from ones you've received in the past, but this time, it makes sense.

Desire. Unadulterated need. Infatuation.

Reverence.

With the hand on his cheek, you guide his lips down to yours. The kiss is nothing like your first of the evening. It's slow, languid, offering you both time to truly taste one another. To become one entity, joined at the mouth, for a brief time until you both come up for air and he collapses against the mattress beside you.

The moonlight plays on his features, sending shadows that frame his face like he’s Renaissance art. Suddenly he's bashful again, toying with your fingers as he asks you, "Should I let you get to sleep?"

You intertwine your hand with his.

"Stay."

《♡》

PART FOUR SOON

<taglist>

@yelenas-lova

@alicefallsintotherabbithole

@notevanpetersbuthisgf

@bugwritesstuff

[simluvbot]

jake as your boyfriend

a/n: I wrote this while very sleepy so I apologise if there are some grammatical mistakes </3 also this is 95% gender neutral apart from one point (:

open to read <3

honestly the boyfriend that anyone wishes they had

very very caring and sweet with you ):

CONSTANTLY boasts about you to the members, but in reality is pretty shy in front of you when it comes to truly describing how he feels about you, to you

jake is your number one simp and yes very openly admits it

you know how he often posts mirror selcas on twitter? YEAHH well he also takes them with you

saves it as his lockscreen photo (:

and will he stare at said photo at 1am when he cant sleep?? thinking about you?? yes

has a shared spotify playlist with you where you both can add songs to it

likes to just sit and vibe to music with you

you have SO many inside jokes with him, literally

you’ll both be around the members when someone says something and you two will just look at each other and giggle about a reference no one else but you and him understand

jake is the type of boyfriend to randomly show up at your house in the middle of the night after practice just because he misses you

jake is very cuddly!!! 

he also wears hoodies vv often so it makes cuddling with him extra comfy and soft ): not to mention how nice he smells 😳

likes laying with his head either on top of your chest or in the crook of your neck, your hands running through his hair softly ):

he is the biggest koala youve ever seen i stg

will NOT let u go as soon as he holds on,, seriously

once that man has attached to you, you know that its gonna be a while before you’ll finally be allowed to get up lmao

will beg you to come cuddle with him saying it’ll only be for 5 minutes when by the time you realise its surely been longer than 5 minutes its actually been nearly 30 minutes

will even cuddle you in front of the members. will spot you across the room and open his arms wide, beckoning you over to him on the sofa

at first it was very shy skinship in front of the others since jake only really likes sharing such precious moments with you when youre both alone, but soon enhypen adjust to it and instead it becomes a regular occurence to see u and jake sitting next to each other half draped across one another lmao

it’s embarrassing for you but its jake sim. how could you even reject your boy?

if youre in school, our smart boy will like to take interest in whatever youre studying!

sits and watches lectures with you and reads your notes lol

asks you questions to do with what youre learning and helps you revise

honestly just likes learning new things since he misses it, so he likes to pay attention with you to help you study and also for him to learn new things too! 

expect cheesy good morning texts and pickup lines whenever he is not busy lmao

also expect him to not-so-discreetly leave his hoodies at your house ever since he first saw you wear his grey one

always sends snaps(?) to you of selfies and generally updates just for you on his day. 

yes he will make them cheesy by for example saying “we are eating bibimbap for lunch today. but i wish you were here too~” or “today is so long, i hope to see your face as an energiser 😍”

he uses the ‘😍’ emoji all of the time in his tweets so expect him to use it all of the time with you too lmao

😍😍😍😍😍

yep. the emoji pretty much sums up how he feels about you tbh

doesnt mind buying you something if you ask him for it

but you never do

but will your rich boyfriend still unnecessarily splurge money on you? yes

kisses!! with jake :D

at first he will ALWAYS ask for your permission to kiss you

even after youve dated for a while he will still 95% of the time ask for your consent

mainly is because he is very very shy when kissing you

but also because he never wants to make you feel uncomfortable!! at all. NEVER. not on his watch!

very very soft, breathy and giggly kissing 🥺

likes it when you kiss his nose 🥺🥺

many giggles,, many many giggles during soft kissing hours with jakey

also likes it when you hold his neck/jaw

and as for not so soft kisses 😳

loves loves loves it when you run your hand through his hair and tug on it

soft groans from him

will deepen the kiss by holding onto your jaw to angle better

he likes french. no more comments

whenever you kiss jake its literally heaven. butterflies in your stomach,,  always !!

idk but there is just something. about the way that he leans forward and gently drops you to the bed before he’s soon on top of you and quite literally caging you between him and the bed

whenever this happens you swear you nearly pass out every time by just how simply intoxicating jake sim is. his cologne, his kisses, his hands, his words, his heat

and quite quickly is goodbye to shy, flustered jake

...anyways

NEVER lets anyone hurt you

if anyone ever disrespects you he can become pretty scary.. will get in their face and directly confronts them. but that rarely ever happens so dw!

(if youre a girl) jake is the type of boyfriend that makes no issue from you accidentally staining the bed from your period

will pause and ask you instead if youre okay, if youre in pain, if you need to go get you anything or buy you pads

will then help you change the sheets and while he waits for you to finish showering, he’ll in the meantime make the bed extra comfy and will choose a film for the cuddle session you two have after you come out 🥺

literally will do anything you ask him to

is WHIPPED for you. literally a puppy when it comes to you

Talking about puppys,, constantly shows you photos of layla

you very soon become layla’s mother in his eyes despite you not even having met her yet lmao

‘one day,’ he says. one day 😔

he really wants to take you to australia one day and show you his hometown

he even has a section in his notes app where he’s written down all of the different places he would take you to if you both did go ):

Overall such a kind and considerate boyfriend

The type of boyfriend that just makes you feel so so safe and warm. He is your home and he never fails in making you feel comforted

And same thing for him! He simply loves being around you, staring at you and complimenting you

You are his favourite person <3 and he always puts you as one of his main priorities. Always.

[peepeepotter]

Idea: enemies to lovers w Fred or George, with smut???

oh HELL yeah that’s what i’m talking ab!!! i’ll be writing that soon thank u <33

UPDATE: I wrote it. Here!!

Pride and Prejudice

Pairing: Fred Weasley x fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing, NSFW 18+ ONLY, smut (I’ll add a warning so you can skip it if you don’t want to read it): face fucking, oral (male and female receiving), grinding, unprotected sex (it’s not worth it irl pls use a condom <3)

Word Count: 4.2k

One could definitely say Y/N and Fred didn’t get along. It was always strange to both of them, considering that they were so similar, they got along with each other’s friends, but when it came to each other something just didn’t click. George figured they were too similar, Angelina thought they were just too competitive with each other, but neither Fred nor Y/N could really place why. They just didn’t like each other and did about anything they could to piss the other off.

It was always silly pranks, minor jokes, and constant bickering. The first time Fred had ever pranked Y/N was their first year at Hogwarts. Right as she was pulling a mandrake out of its pot, he slipped her earmuffs off, causing her to faint. Or, at least, this is how she remembered it. Little did he know, Y/N was just as fierce as he was and more than willing to get him back. He had successfully started a prank war. About a week after she had been embarrassed in front of her entire class, she decided revenge was a dish best served by house elves. She sweet-talked some of the house elves in the kitchens into charming his plate, so every time he tried to put food on it the food would disappear. The pranks went on, ranging from changing each other’s hair color, charming broomsticks to constantly knock them off, and stealing the other’s homework.

Although, it seemed to be getting a lot worse in their sixth year. The pranks were getting to be a lot, the lack of teamwork during quidditch, the bickering. All of it was starting to get old to their friends. Finally, one day, everything exploded.

Fred had a great idea that morning for how he was going to fuck with Y/N that day. He had gotten his hands on some veritaserum the year before, and although their friends typically used it during truth or dare, he had decided it might be fun to give it to Y/N right before potions. So, as she turned to talk to Angelina, Fred slipped some into her juice. About fifteen minutes later, Y/N answered every question asked to her truthfully, and she knew there was a problem.

“Hey, Y/N, what time did you go to sleep last night?” Fred asked, testing to see if it had kicked in yet. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

“I couldn’t fall asleep until like four because of Angelina’s snoring.” She quickly put a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

“Y/N! That’s kind of rude.” Angelina lightly slapped Y/N’s arm.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” Y/N’s cheeks were flushed red. When they all sat down in potions, trouble started.

“Miss Y/L/N, what is the last ingredient meant to be added to liquid luck?”

“I’m sorry, professor, I don’t know the answer because I’m busy having a life.” The class, Snape included, fell entirely silent, Fred trying to hold back his laughter as to not give himself away.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Y/L/N see me after class.”

“What, so you can mentally abuse me like you do your other students?”

“Fifty points, want to make it more?” Snape threatened, turning around. His cape flung across the front of the classroom, and before Y/N could make another comment about Snape, Angelina spoke.

“Y/N, what’s gotten into you today? That’s not funny.” Angelina whispered to Y/N.

“Angelina, it’s not meant to be funny, but even if it were, it would go over your head.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Aren’t you failing all of your classes right now? You spend so much time practicing quidditch, like sure we get it. You’re good, but maybe you’d be a little smarter if you paid attention in classes.” Once again, Y/N slammed her hand over her mouth. Fred started cackling, although neither Angelina nor George found it funny.

“What are you laughing about?” George asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey, Y/N, are you sure that’s why she’s failing?” Fred snickered, ignoring George.

“Actually, Angelina, maybe if you spent less time ogling George you’d do better in this course. Or maybe it’s just because Snape actually is a terrible teacher, right professor? I mean, he doesn’t actually teach anything, all we do is read from the stupid text that’s older than Professor-I-don’t-wash-my-hair up there.” This time, Fred was laughing so hard that other people in the classroom started quietly laughing. Y/N and Angelina were both crying at this point. “I can’t stop, what’s wrong with me?” Snape, immediately understanding what was going on, sent both Fred and Y/N to their head of house.

“Mr. Weasley, do you understand that you drugged a student? This is a serious offense. We have a girl in tears in potions.” McGonagall lectured. Fred held back a smirk, trying to keep himself from laughing.

“It’s just veritaserum, she’s the one who said all of that mean stuff.”

“Yes, Mr. Weasley, but it’s also your fault. Frankly, the professors and I are quite tired of the pranking and joking between you two. We understand there’s some kind of rivalry here, but it’s gone too far this time. You humiliated a student and a professor during class. Both of you.” Y/N had tear tracks on her cheeks and almost started crying while being lectured.

“I think it’s time you two learn to get together. One month of detention. Immediately after classes, I want you both in my office. Every afternoon, weekends too. No more Hogsmeade trips this year.”

“Professor--”

“I don’t want to hear it. We’ll see if you can attend the yule ball in December when we get there.” Now Y/N was crying, upset that she might miss out on something everyone else would be able to go to.

--

“I can’t believe you drugged me.”

“Shut up, it’s literally just veritaserum.”

“Whatever, you prick, no one will talk to me anymore. Angelina’s my best friend, and she won’t even look at me.”

“Well, George won’t talk to me, either. So, whatever. We’re in it together.”

“Because of you, do you ever even think before you act?”

“I’m sorry, you’re speaking to me about thinking before I act? Couldn’t you have just not spoken?”

“Do you even know how veritaserum works? You dipshit.”

The two argued on opposite sides of McGonagall’s classroom, having been ordered to literally just sit there, eat dinner, and go to bed when they’re done. 

“What kind of detention is this anyway? No lines, no trophy polishing.”

“They’re just trying to get us to deal with each other. And stop pranking each other, probably.” Y/N glared at Fred, narrowing her eyes. He rolled his.

The next day at their second detention, they sat in silence for the majority of their time together. Y/N was just glad they weren’t arguing this time.

“Has Angelina spoken to you, yet?” Fred broke the silence about a half-hour before detention was over, and they could return to their common room to do homework before bed.

“No, has George spoken to you?” Y/N asked politely.

“No.” Fred deadpanned.

“Do you feel bad yet?” She smirked, staring at her hands.

“Yes, but not for you.” Y/N rolled her eyes at his response.

“Whatever, prick.”

“Look, we wouldn’t be in this boat if you hadn’t dyed my hair green last year.”

“Actually, we wouldn’t be in this boat if you hadn’t made my broom knock me off in the middle of the quidditch pitch. I had a concussion, you fucker.”

“Actually--”

“Oh my god, actually, I don’t care. Okay? Shut up.” Y/N snapped, finally turning to look at him. He looked over at her. Their eye contact was uncomfortable, challenging.

Finally, a week after their detentions started, Y/N decided to try civility.

“So...how was your day?” Y/N asked, picking at her nails.

“So we’re not arguing today? Are you playing a trick on me?”

“If you’re going to catch an attitude with me then forget it. I just haven’t spoken to anyone other than you for the past week. I figured we should at least have one positive conversation.” She rolled her eyes, turning in her chair to look over at him.

“My day was uneventful, thanks,” Fred answered, turning in his chair to look over at her. “...how was yours?”

“The same.”

“Lame.”

“I mean, yeah, obviously.”

“What homework do you have?”

“Potions still. I suppose Professor Oily wasn’t too happy with the truth on my mind.” Fred smirked at this answer.

“You have to admit, what you said to him was hilarious.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t give a shit about bullying him, I’m just upset Angelina’s still upset.”

“That’s fair, I didn’t mean to cause that. I’m sorry. I guess.” Fred apologized. “Don’t let that go to your head.” He added quickly, seeing a smile form on Y/N’s face.

“Have you ever apologized in your life before now.”

“Countless times, I just didn’t ever care enough to apologize to you.” He chided.

“Oh, so we are arguing today, then?”

“No, sorry. I just,” He paused, looking for the right words.

“Don’t like me?” Y/N assumed.

“That’s not even it, I guess. I don’t have a reason to dislike you.” Fred shrugged. It was weird because he only disliked her because she disliked him. 

“I know!! I only dislike you because you started the pranks when we were eleven.” Y/N spoke up excitedly.

“Did I?” Fred scrunched his face, trying to remember.

“Yeah, you took my earmuffs off when we were pulling mandrakes in herbology first year.” Y/N shrugged, now seeing that it wasn’t worth being so upset about.

“Oh, no, that was an accident. I was trying to make it cover your ears better, but I accidentally pulled it off.” Y/N froze, her eyes closing.

“Oh, Godric.” She facepalmed.

“What?” Fred asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“You idiot!! If you had just told me that we wouldn’t be here.” She stood, stomping her foot.

“What does that mean?” Fred stood.

“I pranked you a week after that happened. I made all the food on your plate disappear.” Her hands were balled into fists at her side.

“See! I knew you started it.” He pointed accusingly at her.

“Only because you’re awful at communicating!” She pointed back.

“...So…this all started from a miscommunication?” He stared at the ground, realizing he had an enemy after all this time that could’ve been a friend.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, go home.” McGonagall flung the door open, excusing the two. The two grabbed their bags and left the classroom. On the walk back to the Gryffindor dorms, they spoke about how stupid they felt after all this time of hating each other for no reason. They worked on their homework together, having no one else to help them, and went to bed.

Saturday arrived, and the two arrived at the classroom together. After McGonagall left, they spoke of previous pranks that had actually been great ideas. They spoke about quidditch, classes, the Triwizard tournament. Eventually, they got back to talking about their lack of friends.

“I guess it’s probably worse for you, though, since George is your twin.” Y/N offered, a frown on her face.

“He’ll get over it. He always does, and I’ve tried apologizing a ton already. At this point, I think maybe they’re being a bit dramatic.”

“Or they’re planning something.”

“Like, revenge?”

“Maybe.” Y/N’s face scrunched in thought.

“Well, anyway, did you see McGonagall use Ron when she was teaching us how to dance.”

“Oh Godric, yeah I did. I was laughing so hard. Did you get to practice?”

“No, she told me to wait it out. You?”

“Same.” Y/N frowned, looking at her feet.

“Wanna practice together? In case we do get to go?”

“Who will even go with us? Even Slytherins won’t talk to me.”

“That’s a problem we’ll fix when we get there.” Fred stood up, getting closer to the sitting girl. She blushed when he held a hand out for her to grab. She grabbed it, standing up. She was able to fully realize how tall the twins were, never getting that close to either of them. Fred towered over her, making the dance a little awkward. They kept accidentally making eye contact, both just trying to peek at the other.

“Wait, no, I think you messed up that part.” Y/N stopped, staring at their feet.

“I thought it was right left left right?” He asked, looking at the top of her head until she looked up and made eye contact.

“I thought you’re supposed to switch off?” She furrowed her brow.

“Honestly, you probably paid more attention than I did.” He shrugged, his hands still holding hers.

“You’re right, I definitely pay more attention than you.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Fred laughed, gently pushing Y/N away.

“Aw, a little sensitive?” She asked, grabbing his hands and looking at the floor again.

“Never sensitive from you, darling.” He also stared at their feet, making sure the steps were right.

“Except for when I turned your hair green.” She looked up at him, he shook his head.

“Oh Merlin, okay, yeah. That one time, I cried, yeah.” She squeezed his hand to make sure he knew she was joking, and he squeezed back.

The two practiced dancing every day for a week. The following Saturday, Y/N brought a muggle music player (“What’s that?” “It’s called a walkman.” “Oh, weird.”) so they had something to listen to while they practiced, but they pretty much knew the steps by heart by then. They swayed, dancing to the music much closer than they had been the previous Saturday. Y/N rested her head against Fred’s lower chest.

“What’s your family like?” She asked, bored.

“Big.” He laughed.

“Well, duh.” She laughed, trying to take her hand out of his to hit his chest, but he held it tighter. She looked up at him, chin against his chest. “I mean, like, what are they like? What do they do, what do they enjoy, what are they passionate about?” She bombarded. He looked down at her, his heart fluttering.

“Ginny is a killer quidditch player, and she’s just so kind. She befriended this girl who doesn’t have any other friends just so she can stick up for her when she gets bullied. Ron doesn’t have any common sense, but he’s pretty smart. He’s really good at Wizard’s chess, and quidditch, too. I think he feels like he’s second-best a lot because of Harry, but neither of them can really help it. George is just me,”

“That’s not true. You guys are very different.”

“Mum can’t always tell us apart.”

“His nose is more hooked than yours, and your voices are different. Besides, he’s more soft-spoken, and he probably feels like Ron does with Harry.”

“What do you mean?”

“Second best to you. You have this ability to make a spotlight on yourself in any room you walk into. But that’s not something either of you can control. I think you’re just more extroverted.” Y/N shrugged, placing her cheek against his chest again. Fred stopped moving his feet suddenly. Y/N looked up, pressing her chin against his chest again. “I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

“No, you just...nailed it. No one’s ever done that before. George and I used to get into little spats because of it. Also, I don’t think anyone’s ever noticed our differences before.” He once again felt a flutter in his heart.

“I think Angelina has noticed too.” Y/N shrugged, trying to make a lesser deal of the issue.

“Maybe.” He smiled down at her, she smiled back softly.

“You know, we only have like a week and a half left together. What should we do? I feel like we’re experts on this dance.” Despite her words, they continued swaying softly.

“I don’t know. What do you like to do other than pranks and quidditch?” He asked, leaning down to rest his chin on top of her head.

“Read.” She shrugged.

“Bring a book tomorrow, read to me.” This time her heart jumped into her throat. Something about reading aloud to someone seemed intimate.

“Okay.” She smiled. 

So Y/N brought a book the next day. Her favorite muggle book, pride and prejudice. It didn’t take long for them to finish, Fred’s head in her lap, sprawled across the floor together.

“Why’s it so...old-timey?”

“It was written in the late 1700s.”

“They kind of remind me of us.”

“Why? Because they used to hate each other?”

“I guess.” He shrugged. He was hoping for a love story like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.

“What do we do now?” Y/N raked her fingers through his hair, his eyes closed at the feeling.

“Wanna make out?” He grinned without opening his eyes. She laughed.

“Stop it!” Y/N stopped her movements, still smiling. He opened his eyes and sat up, smiling.

“Stop what?” He asked, starting to tickle her sides. She laughed loudly, throwing her head back. He continued until she was lying on the floor. He was on top of her, straddling her. Finally, he stopped, and she opened her eyes, still smiling.

“Do you...would you want to go to the Yule ball with me? If we can go.” He asked, not moving from the position. She sat up on her forearms.

“I don’t see why not. We already know how to dance together.” She shrugged, trying to play nonchalant by looking at her nails.

“Y/N?” She looked up. “Can I kiss you?” Fred asked, looking somewhat sheepish for the first time ever. She offered a soft smile, grabbing his cheek and pulling him down to her face.

(warning: smut starts here)

The kiss started soft, sweet. Y/N’s heart was beating out of her chest. Fred’s heart was in his throat. Eventually, she pulled on his bottom lip with her teeth softly, causing Fred to moan. At the sound, she felt wetness pool in her panties. “Y/N, I think I’m falling in love with you.” He whispered against her lips.

“Maybe I’m falling for you, too, Freddie.” She whispered, pushing their lips back together. She pulled his hair softly, causing the noise again. Smiling slightly into the kiss, she grabbed his arm, flipping them over so she was straddling his waist.

“Woah,” He paused, lips swollen. “That was kinda hot.” She laughed, leaning down to kiss him again. She felt his hard member against her clothed heat. She ground her hips down onto his, causing a much deeper moan to arise from Fred’s throat. He brought one hand to her waist, the other holding the side of her face. His hand on her waist traveled down to squeeze her ass underneath her skirt. This time, she moaned, making him harder. His hands traveled to the bottom of her t-shirt, tugging on it. She pulled away.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, his face slightly pink. She nodded wordlessly, helping him pull it off of her. He took his own shirt off, sitting up to kiss her. He grabbed one side of her face, kissing her hard once again. He slowly moved, leaving pecks from her face to her neck, where he latched and started sucking, causing soft moans to come out of her mouth.

“Freddie,” She panted, eyes closed. He moaned at the sound of her voice, his rough hand on her wait moving to grab her breast above her bra. She reached behind her and took it off, pulling his hand back to her bare breast. He kneaded it, paying extra attention to her nipple. He latched his mouth onto her other nipple, rolling his tongue over it. She moaned softly.

“Don’t hold back, darling, we’re here for a while.” He encouraged, whispering against her breast. She softly pushed his chest encouraging him to lay down. She kissed down his chest to where his pants started, looking up through hooded eyelids to ask if she could take off his pants.

“I want you to face fuck me.” She whispered, he moaned at the thought alone. He helped her take his jeans off, pulling her face quickly towards his to kiss her once more. “You don’t have to, you know. I didn’t say that because I wanted to fuck you.”

“I know, Freddie. I want to do this.” She smiled, sitting up on her knees. “Now stand up.” She encouraged. When he stood in front of her, she grabbed his cock, licking a stripe down the bottom of it. She wrapped her lips around his tip, causing a guttural groan to arise from Fred’s throat. He collected her hair into his hand, and she grabbed onto his thigh to steady herself. He was gentle, pulling her head towards him slowly. Each time she made it back to his tip, she circled her tongue around the head, causing a deep groan. She started pushing her head faster, encouraging him to take control of her. He did, pulling her far deeper onto his cock, until she could feel him on her throat. He set the pace faster, pulling her head quickly back and forth on him. When she could feel his cock twitched she pulled away gently.

“I don’t want you to cum yet. I want you inside of me.”

“Are you trying to commit a murder today? You’re killing me with the way you speak.” He moaned, pulling her up by her cheek to kiss her once again. He sat her on a desk without pulling away, unzipping her skirt. He kissed her neck and down her chest as he pulled her skirt off. He pulled her closer to the edge of the desk, his face inches away from her cunt. As he kissed the inside of her knee and thigh he asked if what he was doing was okay, and she nodded, moaning. He pulled her panties off, latching his lips onto her clit quickly. He flicked his tongue quickly against the small bundle of nerves.

“Finger me.” She moaned out, her hands tangled in his hair. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back. He started with one finger, curved up, keeping a steady pace. She whispered, asking for more, causing him to use two fingers to fuck her. Between his tongue and his fingers, she was unwinding quickly. He quickened his pace with both, causing her to moan his name. It wasn’t long before she had unwound completely, pulling his hair as she let out a string of curses. When she was finished, she pulled him up by his hair to her lips.

“Do you still want me to fuck you, baby?” She nodded in response, wrapping her legs around his hips. He teased her entrance, rubbing the head of his cock up and down her pussy lips. When she started whining, he pushed into her cunt slowly. They both breathed a sigh of relief after the build-up. Their foreheads rested together as he slowly fucked her. He moved his lips to her ear.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum for me, you know that?” He whispered, licking the shell of her ear, causing her to take a deep inhale. She grabbed the back of his neck pulling his lips back to her own.

“Freddie, I’m gonna need you to fuck me faster.” She said against his lips. He grinned into her kiss, fucking her faster. He reached down, using his thumb to rub her clit. She moaned, despite still being sensitive from the previous orgasm. The faster he rubbed her clit the faster she felt the build-up in her stomach. He was already well on his way to finishing, but at the rate he was going she would cum first. He latched onto her neck, gently sucking, pushing her over the edge quickly. “Freddie,” She moaned, throwing her head back, toes curling. He came soon after hearing her moan his name. He rested his head in the crook of her neck, both of their breathing starting to match again.

(smut ends)

“Well,” He spoke after a few minutes, leaving her body. “I can’t say this is what I expected out of detention.” He smirked, looking up at her. She smirked back, getting up to get dressed.

“I think detention just got a lot more fun, Darcy.” She referenced. He grinned.

“I like the way you think, Miss Bennett.”

--

About two weeks later, they arrived at the Yule ball together. When they showed up hand in hand, many were surprised, but George and Angelina smirked at each other.

“I told you if we just left them alone long enough they’d end up together,” George stated.

“Well, you were right,” McGonagall stated, approaching the two youngsters. “And now my classroom has a smell to it.” Causing Angelina and George to break down with laughter.

permanent taglist: @amourtentiaa

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 2

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader, some wonwoo x reader

Word Count: 6k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: cyber sex lol, angst, CHEATING, grinding, oral (female receiving and male receiving), fingering, mingyu is just sweet and it makes me sad, kinda fluff?

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: i really self indulged on this one... man i just wanna fuck frat boy mingyu is that too much to ask... anyways PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS CHAPTER I PUT A LOT MORE TIME INTO THIS ONE so feedback would be very appreciated <3

Chapters: Previous | Next | Masterlist

Sunlight peeked through your blinds the next morning, stirring you awake. You opened your eyes and snapped them shut again as the glare of the sun blinded you. Yawning, you reached for your phone and squinted at the pile of unread messages from Jisoo that had built up over the span of last night.

Jisoo: omg what u were here for like 2 seconds :(

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: i hope u feel better babe

Sent at 10:49 PM

Jisoo: wait

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: did something happen with wonwoo

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: i swear if he's mad at you for being a normal college student...

Sent at 10:50 PM

Jisoo: bitch answerrrrr :(

Sent at 10:53 PM

Jisoo: i'm staying the night somewhere i hope ur feeling okay <3 pls update me when u wake up

Sent at 12:06 AM

You laughed under your breath as you realized that it was 10 AM and Jisoo's side of the room still remained empty. From how last night was going, you could only assume that she was somewhere with Seungcheol. Classic Jisoo, you thought to yourself.

Just as you sat up in bed, your phone vibrated with another notification. You glanced down, expecting another text from Jisoo, but your eyes lit up as you saw Wonwoo's name on the screen instead.

Wonwoo: good morning :) do you wanna facetime?

Sent at 10:27 AM

Without replying, you quickly opened up your laptop and called Wonwoo. He answered after a few rings, his face filling the screen for the first time in a month.

"That was fast," He laughed. He must had just woken up because his voice always had a distinct rasp in the morning. His glasses also still rested on his nose and you could see his bare chest at the edge of the frame.

You smiled warmly. "I've missed you," you said, leaning closer to the camera.

"I missed you too," he gave you a toothless smile and ran a hand over his face. "I'm sorry I kept ditching you."

You shook your head. "No, it's okay. I understand."

You stared at him for a moment, neither of you speaking; you almost didn't know what to say. After all this time, you felt like you didn't know anything that was going on in his life anymore. It was tearing at you slowly. You were watching your own boyfriend become a stranger to you.

Luckily, Wonwoo broke the silence. "What are you doing?" He asked.

You shrugged. "I just woke up. I need to shower."

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively and chuckled. "Oh?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes as you snickered. Wonwoo rested his arm behind his head and smirked at you.

"Can you blame me? I haven't been inside you in so long." He groaned. You felt your face burn at his bluntness. You looked down at your hands, and he must have noticed your embarrassment because he quickly asked, "Your roommate isn't there, right?"

"No," you replied, gazing back up at his face.

"Why're you so shy?" He grinned devilishly.

"I'm not," you protested. You began to toy with the bottom of the big tee shirt you were wearing.

Wonwoo sighed loudly. "I'm horny."

"I can tell." You replied with a chuckle. You slowly pulled the hem of your shirt up farther until your underwear could be seen. Wonwoo noticed this, biting his lip.

"Fuck," he breathed, "I miss your tight little pussy." Your skin heated up with each word he spoke. You watched as he removed his arm from behind his head; your mind instantly filled with images of him stroking himself. "Touch yourself for me." Wonwoo demanded.

Without a word, you leaned back against your pillows and slowly spread your legs for the camera. The wetness between your thighs was so intense at this point that your underwear was clinging to your folds.

Wonwoo let out a deep groan as he touched himself off camera. Your skin flushed even further as you watched his face contort in pleasure. "Take off your shirt," he muttered.

You obeyed, pulling the fabric over your head and leaving yourself mostly exposed. Your breasts bounced in view of the camera as you leaned forward and pulled your underwear down your legs. Wonwoo moaned, his head leaning back and exposing the veins in his neck. "Fuck, you're gonna make me cum already."

You giggled and leaned back against the pillows again, this time exposing your nude body to him. You dragged your hand down to your heat and began to run your fingers through your folds. You let out a whine at the long-awaited contact. Your other hand squeezed at your breast, stimulating your sensitive nipples.

"Shit," Wonwoo hissed, "If I was there I'd be fucking you so hard. Making you moan my name for everyone to hear." You felt yourself clench at his filthy words. You bit your lip and rubbed your clit in circles.

"Mmh, shit." You moaned. "I miss you so much. Miss feeling your cock inside me." You heard Wonwoo's breathing grow heavier on his end of the line. You could tell he was going to cum soon. You pushed two fingers inside you, desperate to release.

Curling and scissoring your fingers deep inside you, intense pleasure began to take over your body. You threw your head back and whined loudly as you felt your orgasm approach. "Wonwoo," you moaned.

Wonwoo let out a choked moan at the sound of you moaning his name. "Fu- I'm cumming," he stuttered as he finally released.

You continued to pump your fingers inside of you while Wonwoo started to slow his breathing again. "Cum, baby," he said. You brought your other hand down to your clit and rubbed it in figure eights. Your legs twitched with pleasure, your walls clenching and pulsing around your fingers.

You cried out as your orgasm finally washed over you, your head falling back against the pillows behind you. You kept your eyes closed for a few seconds as you basked in the pleasure. Your heavy breathing began to calm.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Wonwoo wiping his hand with a tissue. He glanced at you and smiled. "Now that," he whistled as he laid back down against his mattress, "was unbelievably hot."

Your cheeks burned and you reached for your shirt to pull back over your head. "We should do that more often," he said.

You laughed. "Maybe."

Wonwoo sat up after a moment. "What time is it?" He asked.

You glanced at the clock. "Almost 11."

He groaned in frustration. "Fuck, I have to go. I have a group study soon."

"Oh," you replied.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly as he rose out of bed. "I'll call you Saturday, okay? I love you." You nodded silently.

"I love you too," you said right as he ended the call.

And then you were left alone, with sweat sticking to your skin and your soaked underwear balled up next to you. You shut your laptop and sat in silence for a few moments, staring out the window as you felt disappointment settle over you.

That was the first time you had seen his face in a month. Hell, that was the first full conversation you two had shared in so long. And it was over as quickly as it had begun.

Anxiety coursed through your veins. Was that all you had become to your boyfriend now? Just a number that he could call when he wanted to get off? Were you no longer someone he confided in?

You shook yourself out of your worried thoughts. Finally, you stood and walked over to the bathroom, your legs still a little weak beneath you, and turned the shower water on.

You stared at yourself in the mirror while you waited for the water to heat up. Your mind flashed with images of last night—of Mingyu staring down at you, his lips nearly brushing against yours, and the sound of you moaning his name.

You had told yourself that it had only affected you because you missed Wonwoo. Then how were you still left feeling unsatisfied after what just happened between you two?

Things were not the same as they once were, you noted as you stepped under the stream of hot water.

When you walked into your digital media class on Tuesday morning, you were hyperaware of each little movement you made. You kept your gaze fixated on the ground and carefully trotted up the stairs until you reached the row you always sat in. Glancing up, you saw Mingyu through the corner of your eye, his attention captured by his phone.

The sound of you setting your bag down was enough to pull him away from his device and look over at you. You sat down and stared forward, refusing to make eye contact with him. Your face started to burn in embarrassment; you didn’t know how you were going to make it through this class.

“Hey, I’m sorry about Saturday,” he paused, “I was drinking and I didn’t know what I was doing.” He said, breaking the silence. You forced yourself to finally look at him. He was back in his usual state: clean, pushed back hair and muscles concealed by his hoodie. You could see genuine remorse in the shine of his eyes and in the slight pout of his lip.

You shook your head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” You reassured him. His troubled expression seemed to lighten up a bit at your words. He gave you a small smile and nodded his head.

“Good. Otherwise this class would’ve been a lot more awkward.” He chuckled and returned his attention to his phone.

You observed him for a minute, noticing the way he chewed on his bottom lip in concentration. Your body flushed again as you thought about his lips: how close they were to yours, the words they whispered to you, how you imagined they would feel against you skin. You tore your gaze away from Mingyu, your heart beating a little faster than before.

You needed to get a grip. There was no way you were going to make it through the rest of this semester if you spent every class getting flustered while reminiscing your half-asleep-wet-dream-fantasy of Mingyu.

Sighing and choosing to ignore the pressing thoughts in the back of your mind, you pulled out your laptop and buried yourself in your notes until the professor strolled into the room and began the lecture.

You managed to successfully ignore Mingyu’s presence for most of the class, despite him sitting only a few feet to your side. You were only reminded of his existence again when your professor announced: “We will be working on a project for the next week. Everybody needs a partner.”

You and Mingyu glanced at each other, as the two of you normally collaborated on assignments in class. He nodded and gave you a thumbs up before you returned your attention to the professor.

“You will write two articles on events or people in the community. For the first, one of you will write and the other will be responsible for photography. For the second, you switch.” He explained briefly.

The lecture came to an end a few minutes later, and the room instantly started buzzing with conversation as students stood up and scrambled to find partners. You turned to Mingyu and gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“I guess I should get your number so we can talk about the project?” Mingyu suggested, pulling out his phone.

“Uh... yeah, okay,” You replied awkwardly as you typed your number into his phone. You cursed yourself internally for letting this happen. This class used to be fun: you and Mingyu casually talked and exchanged answers and cracked jokes with each other and that was that. You didn’t know much about his life, and you didn’t need to. Hell, you didn’t even know he was part of a fraternity. But now that was all ruined. You couldn’t even look at him without feeling small and awkward. And all of this was to blame on some cheap alcohol and your stupid hormones.

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts as you handed Mingyu’s phone back to him. “So, do you have any ideas?” You prompted.

Mingyu’s face contorted as he thought for a moment. “Um, my frat’s doing some charity event this week,” he said. When you didn’t respond for a moment, he panicked and added, “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. We can just-“

“It’s perfect.” You cut him off, snickering at his uncertainty. “Since you know more about it, you can write that one, and I can come and take pictures.” Relief flooded his features and he let out a breath. “When is it?” You asked.

“Thursday.”

“I’ll see you there, then,” you smiled.

The next day passed quickly and before you knew it, the evening of the fundraiser had arrived. You and Mingyu had texted casually the past couple of days; he just gave you details on the fundraiser and tried to come up with an article idea for you.

You strolled through campus on that Thursday afternoon, wrapping your denim jacket around your torso a little tighter as a chilled breeze blew through the air. The brisk atmosphere of late autumn was finally starting to settle in. You quickened your pace, wanting to reach the university quad before you froze.

As you neared the quad, you could hear distant chatter and laughter. You rounded the corner and took in the view of the surprisingly large crowd that gathered near the booth the SVT frat had set up. They were having a raffle for a voucher for free textbooks. Whoever came up with the idea was genius; you couldn’t think of a better way to get broke college students to participate in something.

You walked up to the booth, camera bag in hand, and immediately recognized the boy sitting behind it. It was Seokmin. His eyes lit up as he saw your familiar face. “Hey! Y/N, right?” He greeted you. You told him yes and smiled before greeting him back.

“Do you know where Mingyu is?” You asked, scanning over your shoulder for the tall boy.

Seokmin squinted as he stood up and looked around the quad. “Uh, he was somewhere around here earlier.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “He’s probably off being an idiot.” You laughed and fiddled with the camera in your hands.

Just as you were about to ask if you could take a picture, someone shook your shoulders from behind. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” Jisoo bounced in front of you, Seungcheol by her side.

“Jisoo? I didn’t realize you were a member of the frat now?” You joked before holding up the camera. “I have to take pictures for a class project.” You explained.

Seungcheol wrapped his arm around Jisoo’s waist and said, “You can take a picture of us.” She agreed excitedly, already posing and smiling before you even pulled out the camera.

You stepped back and looked through the lens, making sure that the booth was visible in the background. “Okay, say cheese!” You said as you snapped the picture.

A pair of hands then poked you in your sides, causing you to yelp loudly and nearly drop the camera. You whipped your head around and saw Mingyu’s taunting face smirking down at you. “Hey, Y/N.”

“God, you scared me! You’re lucky I didn’t drop the camera.” You cried, playfully smacking him in the arm.

Mingyu held his hands up next to his face in defense. “Woah, sorry. My bad.” He chuckled. Jisoo and Seungcheol approached you two, butting in on your conversation.

“You know Mingyu?” Seungcheol asked, glancing between you two and raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, we’re partners for a project.” Mingyu explained briefly while checking over his shoulder. He turned to you. “Let’s go take these pictures fast, yeah? It’s kinda cold.” Before you could even respond, he linked his arm with yours and walked you away from the booth and into the small crowd of students.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up at him. “We got out of there fast.” You noted.

Mingyu sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Cheol’s just weird about certain stuff.”

You were even more confused now. “What do you mean?”

“He just like- he tries to set me up with people all the time and I don’t want him the get the wrong idea of us.” He dismissed quickly before saying: “Why don’t you get some pictures of the people standing around here? Just take a few. We don’t need that many.”

“Oh... okay.” You responded hesitantly. You lifted the camera up again and snapped a couple more pictures of students conversing and walking up to the booth to buy raffle tickets. Mingyu stood next to you with his arms crossed over his chest, impatiently tapping his foot. He flashed you a relieved smile when you turned to him.

“All done?”

“We should be.” You replied while placing the camera back in the bag.

“Okay, we can go back to the house and work on the article together,” he said, “there’s gonna be some people from here hanging around there later but they shouldn’t be too loud.”

You agreed and began walking with him towards the SVT frat house. The sun was beginning to set now, and the air nipped at your exposed skin as the temperature continued to drop. You stared down at your shoes while you walked, your mind still fixating on Mingyu’s strange behavior.

Finally, you mustered up the courage to ask: “Are you okay?”

Mingyu’s eyes met with yours. Confusion overtook his features in response to your question. “Yeah?” He chuckled.

“Sorry,” you spoke, “you were just acting weird earlier.”

Mingyu sighed and stared ahead silently for a moment. “I don’t know,” he started, “I guess I just still feel bad about last weekend.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you revisited the memory once again.

“Sorry for bringing it up again. I know we should probably just move on already cause it wasn’t that big of a deal. I just... feel like I overstepped. So... I’m sorry.” He rambled.

You looked up at him again. “You don’t have to feel bad. I’m not mad at you.” You exhaled. “But you’re right... we should just move on.”

Mingyu gave you a small nod before changing the subject. “Did you figure out an article idea yet?”

You shook your head. “No, but it’ll be fine. There’s so much that goes on around campus.”

Your conversation slowly died out, but thankfully you arrived at the SVT frat shortly after. Mingyu opened the front door and allowed you to step through before walking in behind you and shutting it. The house was warm; you shivered as your skin adjusted to the change in temperature. You slipped your shoes off and stared at him expectantly, waiting for him to guide you through the house.

Mingyu led you to the dining room, crying out as he rounded the corner. “Seriously, Seungkwan?” He huffed.

A boy sat at the head of the table, textbooks sprawled across the surface. A few other people sat at the table with notebooks and laptops in front of them, watching Mingyu with confused expressions on their faces.

The boy—Seungkwan—stood up from his chair with his jaw dropped. “What do you mean ‘seriously, Seungkwan’?” He mocked Mingyu’s deep voice. “You know I have group study every Thursday!” He cried.

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He responded.

Seungkwan sat back down and calmly resumed his studies as if nothing had happened. You assumed that this must be typical behavior between the two. Staring at Mingyu with wide eyes, he turned to you.

“Is it fine if we go work on it in my room?” He asked, his voice lowered.

You felt blood rush through your ears. You swallowed. “Yeah,” you exhaled.

Mingyu led you up the stairs and down the hall. When he opened the door to his room, you were surprised by how clean it was. Everything was organized neatly and the room smelled fresh.

You heard the door click shut behind you, and your heart started beating faster.

“We can just sit on the floor,” Mingyu spoke. His deep voice startled you a bit. You walked further into the room and sat down with your legs crossed, resting your back against his bed frame as you set the camera down next to you. Mingyu sat down, his knee only a few inches away from yours.

Reaching behind his head for the laptop sitting on his bed, he pulled it into his lap and opened up the article.

“I’m not completely done yet.” He smiled sheepishly while rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s fine. You’re farther than I am.” You reassured him while you took the camera out of the bag again.

He laughed, “That’s true.” You placed the camera in his hands. “Alright, let me just get these pictures pulled up on here.”

You nodded and looked down as you played with your hands. You began to wonder what Wonwoo would think if he knew that you were in some other guy’s room right now.

You frowned and pulled your phone out of your pocket. You opened up your messages and went to send a text to Wonwoo when you realized that the message you had sent him last night was still unread. A dark, heavy feeling settled over your chest. Why did he act as if you didn’t exist anymore? Why would he suggest doing long distance when he couldn’t even commit to it?

You shut your phone off and set it on the floor next to you, staring forward. You exhaled, trying to stop the tightness growing in your throat.

Mingyu was leaned over his computer, his lips pursed in concentration. The definition of his triceps was visible through his sweatshirt. “These pictures actually didn’t turn out too horrible.” He said after a few moments of silence.

You laughed and playfully hit his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He brought his gaze to meet yours, a teasing smile on his lips. “No, they’re actually good.”

“Thanks,” you squeaked, the intensity of his gaze making you nervous. You felt blood rush through your veins. You broke eye contact, glancing down at his nose, and then at his lips that were parted slightly. You quickly looked up to his eyes again, but now they held a knowing look in them. He knew exactly what thoughts were going through your mind.

You inched closer to him, your breath getting caught in your throat as you noticed him bringing his face closer to yours. Your heart raced as you fluttered your eyes shut. His lips brushed against yours and you leaned closer, but then you felt him pull away.

“Do you really have a boyfriend?” He asked.

You sighed, opening your eyes slowly and looking into his concerned ones again. You pressed your lips into a line and looked down shamefully.

“I do,” you admitted. That tight feeling in your throat began to come back. Mingyu was silent. “I’m sorry.”

As you spoke your voice cracked and tears began to spill from your eyes. You felt Mingyu’s warm, soft skin caress your cheeks, holding your face in his hands. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

“Hey. Shhh, don’t cry.” He whispered. His brows were furrowed in concern as he ran his thumb over your cheek. “You can talk to me about it. I’ll listen.”

God, how you hated that he knew exactly what to do and what to say. You hated that he was giving you everything you had craved the past two months without even realizing it. You hated how he made it so easy to confide in him when you had a boyfriend that was supposed to be there for you instead—a boyfriend that was becoming a stranger to you.

You closed your eyes, causing more tears to fall down your face. “I’m sorry,” you said again, your voice a broken whisper.

You inhaled a shaky breath. “We’re long distance. But he barely talks to me anymore.” You explained. You brought your hand up to hold the wrist that was still caressing your face. “I just feel so alone. It feels like he’s given up on me.”

Mingyu was silent. The only audible sound in the room was your uneven breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “you deserve better than that.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest at his sweet words.

“What do you want?” He questioned.

You opened your eyes. You were no longer crying, but your face was still wet with tears. Mingyu was staring at you with that same concerned look: eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide and conflicted, lips slightly parted.

“I just want someone to care.” You muttered.

He brought his face closer to yours again. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, and his eyes were half shut as he whispered: “I can take care of you.”

Your breath hitched.

“Do you want that?” He asked.

“Yes.”

Mingyu finally brought his lips to yours, kissing you hard and passionately. He left slow, open-mouthed kisses against your lips. The hand on your face gently squeezed, puckering out your lips as he continued to kiss them.

You brought your hands up to his hair, running your fingers through his soft locks as he pulled you into his lap. Your hips rested on top of his, straddling him, and you felt his tongue dart out against your lips. You parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth and deepen the kiss.

You ground your core into his lap, feeling his length begin to harden beneath the fabric of his jeans. He groaned into your mouth as you continued to move your hips back and forth.

This is all that you had wanted: someone to care for you, to touch you, to pay attention to you and make you feel wanted.

Mingyu brought both of his hands down to your hips, pushing you down against him as he lifted his hips up towards you. “Let me make you feel good,” he muttered against your lips.

You exhaled shakily, feeling the growing wetness between your legs. “Okay,” you whispered.

He placed his hands on your ass, roughly squeezing the soft flesh between his hands. You circled your hips again, letting out a quiet moan as his hard cock brushed against your clothed clit.

He pulled his lips away from yours. “Stand up,” he said quickly. You obeyed, peeled yourself off of him, and stood expectantly as he stood up from the floor himself. You could see the outline of his cock in his jeans as he rose. He towered over you now, making you feel small beneath him. He pushed your jacket off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and his fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He whispered into your ear. You nodded silently and he pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear. He lifted the fabric up, pulling it over your head and exposing your body to him. His hands brushed against your waist, making goosebumps form on your skin. “Lay down,” he demanded.

You sat down at the edge of his mattress and laid on your back, bunching your legs up at the edge of the bed. He leaned over your body, caging you in by resting both of his forearms on either side of you, and placed another kiss to your lips. Just as he began to kiss down to your neck, he pressed his hardness against your center. You let out a whimper at the contact.

He nibbled and sucked at the soft skin of your neck, causing your entire body to tingle. You leaned your head back, exposing more of your neck to him, and your eyes rolled back into your head at the pleasure.

“Mingyu,” you whimpered. He pressed his clothed length against you again.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He placed more open-mouthed kisses against your neck as he ran one of his hands down your stomach. He brought his hand up again and squeezed your breast through your bra.

He pulled away from your neck, looking down hungrily at your chest. You noticed this and complied to his wishes by arching your back against the bed. He brought his hands behind you, unhooking your bra before pulling it off of you slowly. He exhaled as he stared at your bare chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. You felt heat rush to your face at the compliment. Before you could say anything, he brought his mouth down to your breast, sucking and flicking his tongue against your hardened nipple. You gasped. At this point you were so turned on you were sure that your arousal had already soaked through your leggings. He squeezed your other breast with his hand, and you arched your back again as you moaned.

Mingyu pushed himself up, staring into your eyes with his lust-filled ones. He kept eye contact with you as he pulled away, nearing your core. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your leggings. He looked to you for approval, and you nodded your head rapidly.

He tugged your pants down quickly and slid them off your legs, leaving you in only your underwear. He could see the wet spot on the fabric; he brought his fingers to the cloth and pressed it against your clit. Your legs twitched and you gasped quietly.

Mingyu chuckled. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He licked his lips, and you could see the pride in his gaze as he slipped his fingers beneath your underwear and pulled them down your legs.

He brought his face close to your center, smirking before finally bringing his tongue to you and licking a strip up to your clit.

You let out a choked moan and your legs shut naturally, but Mingyu placed both of his hands on your knees and spread you open for him again. He placed a soft kiss on your clit before sucking on it harshly. Your hips jerked up and you cried out.

He looked up at your from between your thighs, an alarmed look on his face. “You have to be quiet, baby. There’s people downstairs.” He went back to sucking on your clit right after.

You pressed your lips together, trying to contain your moans, and they came out as heavy pants and muffled whimpers instead.

Mingyu brought his fingers to your core, teasing your entrance. He flicked his tongue against your clit as he pushed a finger into you and curled it deep inside you. You arched your back and cried out, “Fuck!”

As the pleasure continued to grow, you brought your hands down to his hair again, tugging each time he pumped and curled his finger in you. He moaned against your core, the vibrations making your eyes roll back into your head.

He pushed in another finger, scissoring them deep inside you. You could hear the filthy sounds of his fingers pumping into your wetness.

“M-Mingyu,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

He smirked against your core before resuming his ministrations of his tongue against your clit. He pumped his fingers into you faster and curled them with each thrust.

The pressure in your lower stomach was growing fast. Your legs began to shake as the pleasure built, and when Mingyu pushed his fingers deep into your core, you felt the knot snap.

You threw your head back as intense pleasure washed over your entire body. Your legs convulsed and you couldn’t hold back a particularly loud moan. Mingyu continued to pump his fingers into you slowly as you rode out your orgasm.

When the pleasure subsided, he pulled his fingers out of you, keeping eye contact with you as he placed them in his mouth and sucked them clean. The sight was so dirty that you whimpered softly. He leaned over you again, kissing you one last time, allowing you to taste yourself.

He rolled over, laying next to you on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. “How was that?�� He asked.

“Good,” you breathed, “really fucking good.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I’m glad I could help.”

You sat up, glancing at the obvious boner that still strained against his jeans. “What about you?” You prompted.

“I’m fine. It’ll go away.” He dismissed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Just lay down with me.”

You bit your lip, thinking for a moment before palming him through his jeans. “But I wanna make you feel good. It’s only fair.”

He hissed at the contact, his hips jerking up a bit. “Shit,” he muttered, removing his arm and placing it behind his head.

He watched you with half-lidded eyes as you fumbled with the button of his pants. You pulled them down, reaching your hand into his boxers and pulling out his cock. It was big. Really big. You were honestly worried if you were going to be able to fit it in your mouth. You stared at it for a moment, wide-eyed.

Mingyu looked down at you and giggled. “Well? Do something.”

You pumped your hand up his shaft, swiping over the tip and collecting the pre-cum that was leaking out. You pumped him a few times before situating yourself between his legs and bringing your lips down to his tip.

You rubbed your lips against his leaking head of his cock before pressing a soft kiss to it. Finally, you wrapped your mouth around him and sucked on the head. He groaned and lightly jerked his hips up, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. You glanced up at him while you continued to suck, pushing more of him into your mouth.

He stared back at you with his mouth hung open. “Fuck. ‘M so hard.” He moaned before leaning his head back against the mattress. “I’m not gonna last long.”

You swirled your tongue around him while he was in your mouth. Then you pushed your head down further, taking him deep into your throat. You struggled to inhale through your nose, almost choking on his dick.

You pulled yourself off him, catching your breath, and continued to pump his length. You brought your head back and sucked him into your mouth, using your hand to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Mingyu was panting and jerking his hips up each time you swirled your tongue around his tip. You looked up and saw his head thrown back, the veins in his neck prominent as he clenched his teeth. He hit the back of your throat and you moaned against him, the vibrations causing him to gasp.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming.” He cried. You kept him in your mouth as the strings of hot liquid met your tongue.

You kept sucking on his length until you swallowed around him. You pulled yourself off his cock with a pop and stuck out your tongue to show him that you swallowed everything.

He pushed his softening cock back into his boxers and motioned for you to come up next to him. “Let’s lay down.”

You laid down on his chest and he pulled a blanket up to cover your nude body. You closed your eyes and listened to the softness of his breathing and the faint beat of his heart beneath his ribs.

“Shouldn’t we work on the project?” You asked after a few moments.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just rest for a minute.” He said, running a hand gently down your back. You leaned into his soft touch.

The two of you laid in a comfortable silence, just basking in the calmness and in each other’s warm presence.

“Mingyu?” You broke the silence, looking up at him.

“Hm?” He hummed, meeting your eyes.

“Thank you.”

[chiwhorei]

i was 𝖐𝖎𝖉𝖓𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖉 by the 𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖆𝖎 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖌𝖘?!?!🥺

@undermattsun your server is a fever dream and i am terminal.

a/n (the first of many): this is the absolute worst thing i have ever seen and i will love and protect it for the rest of my life. check out the rest of this flaming piss fire here. i am completely, wholly sorry for anyone that reads this. no. one. perceive. me.

pairing: sendai frogs x the oc from a 5sos fanfic i wrote in 2013

word count: ~800 of the last words my brain cells will ever produce

tw? wattpad.

“Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend

Somewhere along in the bitterness

And I would have stayed up with you all night

Had I known how to save a life” - The Fray (a/n: sorry, i don’t listen to normal music like the other girls if you don’t like the fray gtfo-_-)

it’s funny how life works. one day, you’re just sitting on the bus, putting my long thick beautiful hair in to a messy bun (ugh i’m so ugly) and the next, i get thrown into a van.

“w-what are you doing?” i say, i bit my lip nervously because i’m quirky.

“were the sendai frogs. your ours now.”

Step one, you say, "We need to talk."

He walks, you say, "Sit down. It's just a talk."

He smiles politely back at you

You stare politely right on through

i guess i should introduce myself. my name is delilah ackerman but i prefer to go by my nickname esme dark-waters. yes i am from new york city but i HATE THE PLAIN WHITE T’s okay so don’t fucking say it.(a/n: i dont listin to normie bands like that ew) i have long curly hair and piercings green eyes and porcelain skin but i am so fucking ugly. all of the “pretty girls” at my college where north face jackets and leggings but i’m not like them. i wore band t-shirts from pierce the veil and twenty one pilots and beanies and leggings because i’m quirky.

i was sitting on the buss coming home from classes (i’m an english major and i love Shakespeare because i’m different and smart tehe ^.^) when i tall blonde man sits next to me. i tuck my long curly pink hair begind my ear, biting my lip i turn to him.

“hi” i say nervously, biting my lip.

“hi, delilah.” he chuckles darkly.

“wait,” i stuttered, “how do you know my name?” i ask worriedly.

“my name is kei tsukishima, your mob boss father hasn’t paid his debts so we’re going to kidnap you and keep you as are slave.” he darkly chuckled, grabbing my wrist. (a/n: hehe i love salty-shima sm he’s so fucking hawt)

Some sort of window to your right

As he goes left and you stay right

Between the lines of fear and blame

You begin to wonder why you came

After i was shoved into a car and driven to a bunker under a volleyball gym, i met the rest of the mob volleyball team that took me.

“poggers, my name is kanji koganegawa.” another large man stands up from where he was sitting down. he had long blonde hair spiked up and a black streak in the middle.

“hi esme, did you miss me?” you turn around abruptly at the sound of your ex boyfriend kyoutani kentarou. you gasp.

gasping, you turn to kyoutani. “w-what are y-you doing h-here?”

“what do you mean? i’m a volleyball player for this mob-slash-volleyball team. the sendai frogs.” he looks at me curiously, he runs his hand through his shaved hair in frustration.

“i don’t know anything about volleyball!” i say loudly, “i’m NOT like the OTHER GIRLS.”

the tallest man who you knew as tsukishima comes up and grabbed your arm, pulling you into his broad chest. you look up at him dreamily.

“i’ve been watching you for a while now delilah esme dark-waters ackerman. and i am in love with you. please forgive me.” you look up to kei with your giant emerald orbs, orbs filling with tears.

“you love me? but why? i’m so ugly?” i let tears roll down my freckled cheeks, biting my lip nervously.

“why do you think we kidnapped you? it’s because you’re beautiful.” kei pulls me into a passionate kiss and our tongues fight for dominance. fighting for dominance, our tongues dance is each other’s mouth and i moan loudly,

“hey asshole,” i hear kyoutani smirk behind me, “she’s in love with me. she’s mine.”

As he begins to raise his voice

You lower yours and grant him one last choice

Drive until you lose the road

Or break with the ones you've followed

a/n: omg thank u so much for reading! this is my first story i’ve written and i hope u luv it! note: NONE OF THE LYRICS ARE MINE THEY ALL BELONG TO THE FRAY. anyway, part two should be coming out soon! luv u all!!<3

last updated: 1/8/2012

do. not. perceive. me. dymphnasprose 2021©️

[pascalpanic]

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Nine

Summary: Javier struggles in the hospital, but some of the symptoms are more somatic than physiological. He’s released, and the two of you have your first official date.

W/C: 4.2k (it just keeps getting longer... chapter 10 is 6k+)

Warnings: language, mentions of injuries, Javier used to be an asshole but he’s baby now, some innuendo/sexual flirting, brief mentions of food and alcohol

A/N: This chapter was actually hard to write! I had clear visions for 8 and 10 but didn’t have one for nine. Nevertheless, I really liked the way this turned out! I’ll post some sappy shit with chapter 10 but please know I love u all for reading and sticking around- it makes my little heart so happy that u guys love these two like I do <3

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Sleep is not easy when you have a massive stab wound in your abdomen. Javier hardly slept to begin with, but this makes it even harder. You tried offering sedatives but he harshly refused. You ordered dark and quiet for his room, but his sleep schedule was so helter-skelter before the accident that it was of no use to even try to fix it now. He can’t adapt when he’s not even in his own bed, he argues with you. Too damn bad, you tell him in return.

The only time Javier could sleep, it seems, is with you in the room. Specifically, in his arms.

It’s not that he thinks he’s unsafe. Hell, a hospital is the safest place he can be. It’s not that he fears passing in his sleep; he knows he won’t bleed out at this point. No, he just can’t sleep unless he has the comfort of a warm body wrapped up next to him. Specifically, the woman he loves.

You stand in the doorway with your hands on your hips. “Javier. I’m working.”

“This is specialized therapy for a patient,” he offers, persuasive as ever.

“I can and will get the opiates,” you threaten. “You can’t stay awake forever, and we both know that.”

“Ángel. I just… need the security.” He looks desperate. His eyes are tired. He’s slept very little in the past few days, leaving him agitated and restless. “The only time I’ve slept well in here was when you were with me.”

You pout a little. It’s adorable, you must admit, and most of all, it’s true. You and other nurses have been catering to him around the clock, since he only sleeps an hour here or there.

Sighing, you look at him. Your eyes are tired too. You’ve slept only when he sleeps, which is barely anything. You’re working on the floor or in his room with him. “Let me go talk with Connie, cariño. I’ll see what I can do.”

You walk into the break room with tired eyes. “Listen, ladies.” Both Connie and Lorena are sitting at a table, eating something. “Javier isn’t sleeping. He asked for me to stay in there with him to get some rest. It’s the only way it’s helped so far. Would you two cover my rotation? Just for tonight?”

Lorena’s large eyes sadden, and she nods. “Por supuesto. Anything you need, love.”

Connie’s not as enthused, but she nods. “You’re lucky this floor is dead empty.” It’s all too easy to imagine this was happening to Steve instead of Javi. That’s what makes her cave.

You sigh in relief. You take a quick shower then return to Javier’s room in a pair of clean scrubs. He smiles a little. “Hey.”

“Hi. You hungry?” You ask, walking to his bedside and taking his hand.

He shakes his head. “Just tired.”

You smile softly. “Well, you’re in luck. Connie and Lorena are angels.”

“No, you’re my angel,” he says with a teasing smile on his face.

“Well they’re mine. You’re the devil on my shoulder,” you laugh quietly and sit on the edge of his bed. He chuckles and pulls you into him, and you snuggle in against him, your eyes slipping shut. He murmurs affirmations of his love for you into your hair as he falls asleep.

And that’s how Javier sleeps for the next few nights. Bits and pieces during the day, but only restfully when you’re in his arms.

The rest of Javier’s stay in the hospital is uneventful. He’s a model patient for you and the other women. He apologizes to Lorena for his outburst under the influence too.

“Ángel,” Javier calls as you try to leave the bed and takes your hand.

“Yeah, cariño?” You ask and sit on the edge of his bed, pushing his dark hair from his forehead. The name makes him feel warm and tingly inside. Pet names from women who mean it are all too rare to him.

“I… should tell you about Lorraine.”

“You don’t have to, Javi,” you shake your head and cup his face softly.

“No, I really should,” he protests, and you nod.

“She was my high school sweetheart. We both went to college and came back and fell in love again.” You nod along to the story, watching his facial expressions. He looks far away, like his mind is back in Laredo. “We were engaged. I proposed and everything, did the whole damn thing.”

“What happened?” You ask softly.

His eyes don’t meet yours. “I got cold feet. I… left her at the altar,” he admits. He’s terrified you’ll run out the door now. It’s not an easy decision, to run away from a life you’re about to lead. It’s even worse when you know what that whole church, full of people, will think. But he did it anyway, and he’s scared you’ll never look at him the same way.

You swallow hard. It’s not what you’re expecting him to say, but you have to admit that it does sound in-character for the man. “And how long ago was that, Javi?”

He looks back up at you. “Jesus. 15 years now maybe.”

You nod, giving him a gentle smile. “Time changes people. You know that. I know that. Your past is the past, love.” You press a brief and sweet kiss to his lips. “I love you, Javier. Don’t you ever forget it.”

You stand and leave his room.

Goddamn, Javier thinks. You really are an angel. You must be, to have that response to what he just told you.

Several days after the injury, Javier is discharged from the hospital.

Despite his rage and arguing, the embassy refused to clear Javier for work. He was to be placed on a brief leave to heal and return when he was up to walking on his own again, without some kind of balance or assistance. Steve agreed to bring Javier some things to work on every night after returning from the office. Javier is already a restless man, and neither you nor the Murphys want to find out what happens when he’s bored all day, his best friend and his girlfriend both too busy to be around. Besides, a deep dive into some cases couldn’t hurt, he argues, and Steve relents. You and Connie take on the responsibility of checking up on him at least once a day- usually her more so than you, due to the fact that she lived directly above him- and of running any errands he may need, for things like food or medication.

As you wheel Javier from his hospital room out to the Murphys’ car, you realize you don’t have his phone number, nor does he have yours. You stop the wheelchair in the hallway and grab a pen from a nearby table. “I know it’s kind of unprofessional to give a patient my phone number,” you chuckle and squat to his seated height, “but I really think you’re cute,” you flirt as you write your phone number on his hand with a permanent marker.

You hand him the pen and Javier grins, his neatly-trimmed mustache (courtesy of Steve’s steady hands) moving with his cheeks. “You’re lucky that I think you’re cute too or I’d be telling your supervisors,” he laughs and steals a kiss before writing his phone number down on the back of your skin.

“It’s kind of weird,” you admit as the thick felt tip brushes against your skin, “that I’ve told you I love you and I don’t even know your phone number.”

Javier chuckles and caps the pen. He holds up your hand and raises an eyebrow. “Now you do.”

-

Three days pass, and Connie gives you updates on his condition whenever she sees you. He’s still in a lot of pain, but he’s lucky he was strong beforehand. You know that for a fact, and it hurts your heart to picture those beautiful abs you caught a glimpse of not too long ago marred by a scar he’ll surely have.

As you get home from a shift, you sigh and plop down on the couch. It’s late, you notice, but you miss Javier. Knowing him, he’s probably awake; you’re sure his sleep schedule is still as terrible as it was before the hospital. You grab the phone from the end table next to your spot, dialing his number and waiting.

Javier picks up on the second ring. Of course he’s awake. “Peña,” a gruff voice answers. It makes you smile. For a second, you want to just continue on without him knowing it’s you, want to observe how he acts when he’s with others. He’s different around you, you know that, and it’s adorable, you have to admit. “Hello?” he asks, annoyed.

“Hi,” you laugh softly through the phone. “It’s me. Sorry, I just got distracted. You sound sexy when your voice is like that,” you tease him.

There’s a smile in his voice when he responds. “Not a problem. How are you, hermosa?” he asks.

“I should be asking you that, Superman,” you laugh softly, leaning back against the couch. His voice instantly puts you at ease.

Javier laughs too. “Superman?”

“Big, strong. My protector.”

“Says the one who literally saved my life.”

“Who’s to say that cold wouldn’t have killed me if you didn’t take me to that diner?”

“Me.”

“I’m the nurse here.”

“And I’m Superman, apparently.” You laugh at that, wanting to reach through the phone line and kiss him then and there. “I’m no Superman, hermosa. I do bad things.”

“We all do, Javi.”

“Not as bad as me.”

“Gotta do bad things to catch bad people. You told me that. Are you trying to be this difficult, or does it just come naturally to you?” You ask sarcastically, smiling into the phone.

“I’m just telling you I’m not actually a good guy,” Javier says, his slight frustration evident.

“I was never under the impression you were. Is this you trying to push me away?” You ask, knowing that’s not the answer but hoping it’ll put some sense into him.

“No, no, cariño, I just-”

“Good, because we’re having our first official date tomorrow night. Okay?”

Javier chuckles a little at that. “I’m homebound. I appreciate the offer, but-”

“Oh no, Superman. I’m coming to you,” you tell him, curling up into a ball and grinning. “I’m getting takeout and wine- or whiskey, if you’d prefer- and we’re having a date night at your place. What do you want for dinner? You’ve got to be craving something.”

This takes Javier aback. This certainly wasn’t something he expected you to say when you picked up. “Uh… no. Nothing comes to mind. And I’m more of a whiskey guy, but wine sounds more romantic, I suppose.”

“Then I’ll pick up something that goes well with wine,” you say with a nod, beaming. “And I’m going to be tired after my shift, so you better be in the mood to cuddle.”

A laugh rings through the phone. “Of course you want to cuddle.”

“Says the one who asked me to snuggle him to sleep.”

“Hey, I almost bled out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the one who asked.”

You’re both quiet for a moment. “Javi?”

“Yes, hermosa?”

Your voice is quiet and shy when you finally speak again. “Are you my boyfriend now?”

He grins, even though you can’t see it. “I don’t see why not.”

“Well, I like that, but we haven’t even had our first date.”

You can feel Javier rolls his eyes through the phone, but he’s clearly smiling when he speaks again. “Wouldn’t you consider that morning at the diner our first date?” He asks you, his face lighting up at the memory of it.

“No,” you shake your head. “I think we need to say it’s officially a date before it happens, then it can be a date.”

“I’m not going to be a very interesting date. I do have a large stab wound in my abs right now.”

“Don’t question my taste in men, Peña.”

“Trust me, I’m not. Do you want to dress up nice?” he asks. “A pretend night out?”

You grin at that. “That sounds wonderful,” you nod and rest your head on the pillows behind you, looking dreamily up at the ceiling.

“Better yet, I’ll cook for you.”

“Why do I have a feeling your cooking features microwave cuisine?”

“First of all, that’s not fully true,” he laughs. “And second of all, at least let me pay for dinner.”

“Giving up that easily? Superman may have to have his title revoked.”

“No, you were just right. I’m not a great cook; takeout would be the best bet.”

“I’ll pay and you can pay me back by looking cute for me.”

“Is this how women feel when men are demeaning?” He teases.

“You got it,” you groan.

Javier sighs. “Don’t know how you do it. How was your day?” he asks, leaning back on his own couch, slipping a hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

“Long. My back hurts,” you admit, hugging the pillow to your chest. “The hospital is much more boring when I don’t get to sneak kisses from a hot patient.”

“I would assume so.”

“Got anything interesting in those case files?”

“I think Steve pulled out a box from ‘79 and handed it over just to appease me. It’s a pain in the ass.”

“You’re supposed to be on leave. Do leave things.”

“Like what? You’re gone all day, so is Steve. There are my two options.”

“Javi,” you coo softly. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“No, you are! You don’t even know what to do with your life. When was your last day off that you didn’t spend nursing a hangover?” There’s a beat of silence. “Exactly. Watch some telenovelas, read a book, pick up a hobby.”

“I have hobbies,” he pouts.

“Besides drinking, smoking, and fucking. I know your reputation,” you tease.

He’s silent and shy when his voice returns. “Did you-“

“I’ve known that the whole time, Superman. You think Connie didn’t spill everything the first time I asked her about you?” You chuckle softly. “No, I know about you. I don’t mind at all. It’s kinda hot,” you tease.

“Hey now, don’t start what you can’t finish. I’m not gonna be in shape for anything for a while.”

You bite your lip, deciding between flirting back harder or leaving it alone. You decide to leave it. “I’m not,” you chuckle. “I just think everything about you is attractive.”

“Even my giant stab wound?”

“Especially. If that’s what it took for you to admit you love me,” you laugh softly, and you hear him laughing on the other end.

“You should get some sleep, cariño,” Javi says in a softening voice. “It’s late, and you said your back hurts.”

“I will. I just… couldn’t sleep without knowing how you’re doing. I’m glad it’s good.” You smile softly at the way his voice sounds through the phone. “I’ll be looking forward to tomorrow night all day at work.”

“And I’ll be looking forward to it here.”

“Goodnight Javi,” you tell him. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, hermosa,” he tells you in return. “I love you too.” He hangs up quickly after saying that, before he can change his mind and stay on the phone with you for hours more.

-

As you leave the hospital the next day, your best friend’s voice rings out after you. “Use a condom!” Lorena shouts before falling into a fit of giggles.

“You’re the worst.”

“No, an unplanned pregnancy would be the worst,” she teases and nudges your side. “Be safe!”

“Fuck you,” you mutter to her in English, but there’s a smile on your face as you leave the hospital.

“No, fuck Javi instead!”

“Goddamnit, Lori!”

The walk home is uneventful, as normal, but the sun is just about to start setting over Bogotá. It’s beautiful, you think to yourself, and you admire the skyline as you walk back to your apartment.

Once you get inside, you head to your bathroom and sigh as you look in the mirror. You’re tired, it’s evident, but your eyes hold your excitement. Turning on a cassette player in your living room, you dance and sing along to it in the bathroom as you do your makeup and style your hair. Both are simply done, but make you feel a little more confident, a little more elegant for your night in with Javier.

You dance along to the music and make your way into your bedroom. You change out of your scrubs and into the outfit you chose last night, in a rush of excitement after talking with Javier on the phone. It’s your favorite dress you wear when you’re going out, not that it’s often, one that makes you feel fantastic about yourself. You look in the mirror and have to admit, you look damn good.

After you twirl in the mirror a little, you pick up the phone and dial Javier.

The familiar greeting fills your ears. “Peña.”

“Hey, Javi,” you practically sing. “I’m leaving my place now, I’ll pick up the food and be over. Leave the door unlocked, that way you don’t have to get up and let me in, okay?”

Javier chuckles. “Yes ma’am. I’ll see you then.”

He hangs up and you grab your purse and a jacket, wrapping it tight around yourself as you leave your apartment building and head out to a nearby restaurant.

After the food is ready, you carry it in one hand, smiling to yourself as you walk the rest of the way to Javier’s. It’s closer than you ever knew, and it makes you smile even wider knowing that there’s only ever a short distance between you and him. The sun is now setting, casting everything in a warm glow.

Once you reach his apartment, you get hit by a wave of nerves. Impulsively, you climb the extra stairs and knock on the Murphys’ front door.

No response comes, surprisingly. Rather than continuing to knock, you get your courage up and go back downstairs, knocking on Javier’s door and letting yourself in.

Javier is at his kitchen table already, which is nicely set and even has a candle burning on top of it. He looks up when he hears you and smiles, and you immediately smile back. He’s wearing a long-sleeved, nice shirt and a tie, the shirt cuffed to his elbows. His hair, which has been messy nearly every time you’ve seen him, is neatly styled too. He looks professional, and it makes you giggle a little.

He takes a second to take in the sight of you too, his eyes raking all the way up your body until his eyes meet yours. “You look great, cariño,” he tells you with a little smirk, and you walk closer and set the food down on the table.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You look very formal.”

“This is what I wear to work,” he admits and tilts his head to the side.

“Then I’m going to have to come visit you at the embassy some time,” you tell him and kiss him on the lips, for the first real time since the hospital. There’s silence between the two of you and you can hear a rhythmic knocking noise coming from somewhere-

You break away and your eyes widen, giggling. There’s a loud creaking sound that accompanied the pounding. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” Javi asks, but then the noise reaches his ears.

You have to cover your mouth to hold back a laugh. “I have to admit, I went upstairs to ask Connie for advice before I came down here… I guess I know why no one answered,” you snort before you hear a uniquely feminine groan, and both you and Javier start laughing uncontrollably, falling into each other.

You bury your face in his shoulder laughing, then quickly remove it, forgetting you were wearing makeup. “Oh god, do you have a radio or something we can turn on to cover that up?” You as him, still giggling.

“Yeah, come on,” he says and leans on you for balance as the two of you walk to his kitchen. There’s a radio on top of his fridge, and he turns it onto the American station in town. You smile at the memory of first meeting him while this was playing. Some slow jam from a few years ago is on, and Javier cranks the dial to adjust the volume until you can no longer hear the Murphys and their activity upstairs.

The sun shines its last rays into the kitchen, casting an orange glow over both you and Javi. He looks down at you and swears he can see exactly what he’s feeling reflected in your eyes. Your eyes hold such kindness and depth and unconditional regard for him, and it makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let you go again, never let either of you ever leave this apartment and this moment. Javier has never been one for words, choosing mainly to express his feelings through the patterns of his hips against a woman’s, but he tries in this moment, just for you. “You… have gorgeous eyes,” he tells you softly, and you giggle and shyly look away. “Really,” he says, catching your chin in his hand and bringing your face back to look at him. “So beautiful. All of you, especially tonight.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, gazing up into those big brown eyes and kissing him quickly. “Care to dance?” You ask, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Javi chuckles a little and puts his arms around your waist in return. “Why not?” He asks, sneaking another gentle kiss before swaying the two of you around his kitchen. You rest your head in the curve of his neck and he smiles at the feeling, pressing a kiss to your head. He’s not a great singer, he knows that, but he mumble-sings the lyrics to you. You can feel his chest vibrate from his voice, and you sigh, pressing a kiss into his skin before resting your head on his shoulder again.

The song ends a few moments later and there’s a bit of dead air on the radio. No sound comes from upstairs and you lift your head, laughing a little. “Well, now that that’s all done… shall we eat?” You ask, and Javier nods, sneaking one last kiss from your lips.

The night ends with you and Javier cuddled on the couch. It’s late, and you’re watching his VHS tapes of old American movies. You’re snuggled into his side when he nudges your face with his neck. “Aren’t you uncomfortable in your dress?” He asks.

“What, are you trying to get me naked?” You tease quietly.

“No. Just want you comfy,” he murmurs, half asleep. You have to admit you’re tired too. “I have a proposal.”

“Yes I’ll marry you,” you laugh jokingly.

“Not like that,” he rolls his eyes. “Help me to my bed. You can wear some of my clothes. Sleep here tonight.”

You smile a little. “Is this your way of saying you can’t sleep without me anymore?”

“Sleeping alone is shitty once I got a taste of you,” he says with a charming smile.

“Alright Romeo,” you tease and kiss his lips gently. “I like that idea though. Let’s do it.” You stand from his arms, offering him a hand. He takes it and stands with a groan.

You help Javier to his bedroom, holding him up as a crutch and a balance. Javier’s tie was long discarded, after the two of you ate dinner. He strips the dress shirt and pants from his body, leaving him in just his boxers and a plain white shirt. He heads to his dresser and pulls out a large t-shirt for you.

You take it from him and kiss his cheek. He closes his eyes as you unzip your dress. “You’re allowed to look,” you murmur teasingly next to his ear. His eyes fly open and watch you hungrily, the way you’re exposed in just a bra and panties.

“Mi ángel,” he mumbles, his hands on your sides. He looks down at your body before finding your eyes again and smiling softly. He kisses you gently. “I know I have a bad reputation. You know I love you for more than your body, right?”

You nod, your arms around his neck. “Of course I do, Javi. We haven’t even fucked yet.”

He nods. “Just… checking.” This is all so new for him, and you can tell. You kiss him tenderly for a moment before pulling on the big t-shirt and flopping on his bed.

“Now get in here and cuddle me, Superman.”

“Of course, cariño,” he laughs, sliding under the covers and kissing the side of your face.

-

translations:

por supuesto- of course

-

hey taglist, come get y’all juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @fruit-of-my-hoechloins @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @obsessivelysearching @sleep-tight1 @drinkingwhileblogging

[sytco]

common blessings [joochan]

pairing: childhood friend!hong joochan x reader

word count: 3.5k (!)

requested: "toothrotting fluff ft. joochan"

dedicated to @sahiflowers.

a/n: im SO SO sorry this took so long and i hope u like it even a little and that it makes u smile thank u for being so patient ily!! ily!!! reminder im always here for u!!

In which you find that time is meaningless when Joochan is not by your side.

~

wonderboy.

-

Sometimes, you speculate whether Joochan has some kind of genius for finding you as soon as the school bell rings, signalling the end of another day.

Today, he surprises you behind the auditorium where you lean against a maple tree, hugging your bag to your chest, because you’ve skipped your last period (Introduction to Psychology) in favor of lying on the grass so you can watch the clouds in peace. And Joochan smiles a fond, fond smile because you have that look on your face again that you only get when you’re lost in thought.

“Missed me?”

You tense from shock before relaxing at the sight of your boyfriend who widens his arms so you can walk right into them.

“How’d you find me?” Your voice is muffled in the fabric of his vest and Joochan reaches up so he can play with the back of your collar.

“Just had a little hunch you might be here.” And this is the answer he always gives, accompanied with the same smug smile each time.

You pout even if Joochan can’t see it. “That doesn’t explain anything.”

“Well now,” he says in an affected voice that sounds like the narrator from that National Geographic documentary on penguins the two of you watched last week, “I can’t afford to have you getting your hands on all my secrets, can I? I’ve got to keep some things to myself so that in ten year's time, you’ll still think I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe.”

It’s ridiculous, you think, how it’s nearly winter but the way you can feel the laughter that starts in his chest and electrifies you to your fingertips is more than capable of keeping you warm and making you feel like you’re really alive.

“Doesn’t matter if I find out all your secrets or not,” you mumble, “you’ll always be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe to me.”

From the courtyard around the corner, you can hear Jaehyun shouting a loud “Oi Joochan!”.

Joochan ignores him and instead casually pecks your cheek with a kiss that feels like a blessing. “Always?”

You tilt your head as though unsure. "Well… for at least fifty years, probably.”

“Fifty?!” Joochan echoes in mock outrage, and you playfully poke his side to which he flinches slightly.

“I was lying. I meant for all of time ever.”

And despite him doing his best to hide it, your boyfriend melts instantly, burying his face in the crook of your neck where he’s probably smiling his brilliant smile that feels like the sun against your skin.

Jaehyun’s voice interrupts the peace and quiet once again with a noticeably louder and more panicked tone.

“Hong Joochan! We’re going to be late for soccer practice!”

Joochan groans exaggeratedly and you can’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “Wish I didn’t have to go to stupid practice,” he grumbles.

“You know, I’ll wait for you in the library until you’re done,” you offer and Joochan perks up - if only slightly because your arms still feel like heaven after years of loving you, and two hours of kicking a ball around (while Donghyun and Jibeom brainstorm inventive ways to trip each other up, much to Coach Lee’s chagrin) just can’t compete. He tells you as much in the way his arms tighten around you.

“You’re the best,” Joochan declares suddenly, “I might be the most amazing and magical boy in the universe, but you’re the best.”

You snort. “Go to practice already before Jaehyun starts going spare, wonderboy.”

Joochan kisses your forehead one last time before he detaches himself from you with a dejected sigh and picks up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder despite your protests. “Walk with me to the oval?”

You slip your hand into his hand only to find it a perfect fit and wonder briefly if there is anywhere in this world you would not walk to with Hong Joochan, the boy who has a smile like sunlight and a personality like a billion shooting stars.

“Of course.”

*

fm.

-

There is the occasional moment in which you wish that your boyfriend wasn’t so exceedingly talented in nearly every field he tries his hand at, because the various extracurriculars that Joochan (being the naturally energetic and enthusiastic person he is) involves himself with have an awful way of making tremendous demands on his time towards the end of the semester.

Right now is one of those moments when Joochan trudges into your room and dives face first onto your bed without even bothering to shake his coat off. “So what was it today?” you ask in a voice that betrays your concern and Joochan can’t help but smile at it.

“Theatre rehearsal,” he yawns, “then string quartet practice. Also an hour of soccer drills with some of the boys. Even though it’s a Saturday.”

You get up from your chair at the desk so you can sit on the bed where Joochan immediately moves his head onto your lap, lifting your hand and resting it on his hair. You absentmindedly start stroking it, staring out the window at a soft grey sky.

“Did you eat?”

Joochan shakes his head. “No time. My dumb E string broke again so I barely managed to have half an apple before we went straight into a new Mozart piece today. Think we might perform it at the next concert. You’d come, right?” And he asks that in a self-assured tone, because he already knows what your answer is going to be.

You give it to him anyway because there’s no point in hiding your blatant admiration for all that he does. “No matter what.”

“And just to see me, right?”

You fake a pause that has Joochan peering up at you suspiciously.

“You do know I have friends who aren’t you that are participating in the concert, right? Like Jangjun and Sungyoon?”

Joochan scowls. “But none of those hooligans are your boyfriend, who - in case you forgot but I do know you’d never - is me.”

“That’s quite true,” you concede before leaning down to kiss his cheek with a smile that makes Joochan’s stomach fill with butterflies which are probably colored pink and green and blue. It never gets old, he thinks: your talent for turning his world upside down in a look or a word or an action. And you don’t even know you’re doing it most of the time.

“Mean,” he accuses but in a half-hearted manner and your smile only widens because you know that Joochan is supremely happy despite his exhaustion, if the way his brow has smoothed completely and he has started drawing little stars on your knee is anything to go by.

There’s a gentle lull in the conversation while you continue to run your fingers through Joochan’s hair, and especially his fringe. It’s almost as though time has passed you by, leaving you together in your own little reality where things like hazy futures and big concerts and broken violin strings do not dare draw near.

“Wanna order something later on for dinner?” you ask quietly.

“Maybe,” he grins through closed eyes, “but nap first.”

Your radio continues to run, and you drift in and out of listening to the DJ duo while watching the rain finally fall outside.

“It’s been pretty cold recently, hasn’t it?” one of the DJs opens the conversation after a small stream of ads.

“Sure has, pal. And speaking of the cold, apparently our first snow of the season is scheduled for next week Friday!”

“So do you have any plans lined up with a special someone?”

“Just had to remind me of how single I am, didn’t you”- rambunctious peals of laughter crackle from the speakers - “but maybe some of our lovely listeners will send in their plans for next Friday.”

“I sure did - and wow, they’re already pouring in! Do you wanna read one out?”

“Let’s see… Listener ha_miii_ran says: ‘I’m planning on confessing to my crush of two years. I’m pretty nervous about this so I’m hoping the two of you will wish me luck!’ All the best of luck to you, Ha Miran-nim, from the both of us. I don’t know how you’re planning on it, but hopefully the first snow will act as a good luck charm for you!”

“Yeah, good luck Ha Miran-nim!” the other DJ chimes in. “Be sure to update us on how it goes!”

“Well, we’ll be back with some more stories after this excerpt from a famous piano concerto - maybe some of our more classically-inclined audience will recognise its globally renowned composer.”

A beautiful melody begins to play and you’re on the cusp of losing yourself in the music when you are most abruptly interrupted by a sleepy, but decisive, “Gershwin.”

You blink down at Joochan. “What?”

“It’s Gershwin. The composer. Don't you think your boyfriend's clever for knowing that?"

“I thought my boyfriend was asleep, actually,” and you narrow your eyes.

“I was,” Joochan protests, “I only woke up when they were talking about the snow or something. And then they talked about that person who’s confessing to their crush of two years - got me thinking about how I can relate because I vividly remember having a crush on you for at least three before I could muster up the courage to confess. Which ended up working out for the best, you know,” he adds in a thoughtful tone, “but sometimes I’d get so nervous just thinking about it that I couldn’t sleep at all. Anyways, I’m really hungry now, so can we order something soon please?”

Maybe it’s the way he so nonchalantly wears his heart for you on his sleeve, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you as though you have strung the Milky Way itself together and made a gift of it to him. Maybe it’s the way you simply realize that you might not be able to live with yourself if you were to lose your boyfriend, ever. But for whatever reason it is, a thousand smiles bloom in your heart and you lean down to give Joochan a kiss that hopefully tastes like everything you cannot possibly put into words.

“Anything you want,” you whisper, and Joochan draws a heart on your knee in response.

*

enchanted.

-

You’re outside the auditorium again but in front of it, this time, and not behind. The post-concert hubbub has died down, mostly owing to the fact that much of the audience has left already whether it’s to a late congratulatory supper or down to the boardwalk where fireworks are scheduled to go off at midnight. The bouquet of lily of the valleys in your hand trembles slightly as you use your other hand to fumble around for your ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“You’re waiting outside, right?” Joochan asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“See, Donghyun, I told you I was right about - wait. Wait! Don't move!”

And then you have less than two seconds to process exactly what is happening before your boyfriend catches you up in a running embrace that sends the world spinning in a flurry of snow and stars and kisses that Joochan plants all over your cheeks. He remains blissfully unaware that somewhere in the vicinity, Donghyun has started making gagging sounds at your very public display of affection, punctuated by Jaehyun’s giggling. (You pay them no mind.)

“Did you enjoy the concert?” he asks, fond expectation twinkling in his eyes.

You nod too much. “You were incredible,” you tell him honestly, and Joochan beams.

“I was, wasn’t I?” he says in a satisfied voice as he pulls you closer. “Guess all those hours of practice paid off.”

“It’s almost like that’s the whole point of practicing,” you tease.

“It’s lucky you’re cute and I’m hopelessly in love with you,” Joochan crinkles his nose in contrived distaste for your little jab before hugging you again so he can hear you whisper just how proud you are of him, right into his ear.

And the two of you stay like that for a little before you remember the gift you brought with you.

“For me?” And the look in his eyes reminds you of how he looked at you when you first told him that you loved him too - or maybe of every time you’ve told him that you love him too.

“Who else?”

He snaps up the bouquet, pressing it against his nose and inhaling deeply with a smile. "This is a nice surprise."

"They mean 'return to happiness'," you say, gently touching a little white bloom that looks like a star against the backdrop of Joochan's black school blazer. "Thought it was cute. And the florist was sold out of roses anyway."

Joochan laughs with the warmth of a thousand sunbeams and puts your hand in his so he can start gently tugging you away.

“But your violin”- you begin protesting.

“But nothing,” he shushes you as the school gets smaller and smaller behind you in the distance. “I don’t even want to see that thing for a week. Hey, and guess what - I found a secret place for just you and me so we can watch the fireworks without being pressed up against everyone else like sardines in a tin can.”

“You and I are going to watch the fireworks?” you echo, surprise colouring your voice.

Joochan’s exhale turns into a giggle. “Who else?” And you dig an elbow into his side, hiding a smile at his antics.

The two of you stroll down quiet streets and you lean into your boyfriend’s comforting warmth. Most shops are closed with the exception of some fast food chains and convenience stores, but you notice almost none of them now as Joochan picks up the pace, his excitement bleeding into the quiet song he sings that floats up in the air and is lost somewhere in the stars above.

“Here we are,” says Joochan proudly and he helps you up into the little gazebo at the top of the hill you hadn’t realized you were climbing. “Take this,” he adds as he tosses you a torch that brightly illuminates the space you’re in as soon as you switch it on. You turn to the rustling sounds on your left, finally seeing the wooden bench that Joochan is busy spreading a rug over.

“You planned this beforehand?” And there’s a note of wonder in your voice - the same kind that only Joochan ever seems to be able to evoke. “I thought we were going straight home.”

He gestures for you to sit next to him with a charming smile and you do so immediately. “Told you I can’t give up all the secrecy. Not yet.” Or, he thinks privately to himself, not when you look at him like that.

The golden light from the torch casts long shadows over the grass and gives Joochan’s face a nearly ethereal glow that reminds you of summer sunsets despite the cold. You slip into a soft and easy silence - one that comes from memories built upon memories, resulting in a code made up of gazes and touch that only the two of you will ever understand. And so when he squeezes your hand gently, you instantly open your arms for him to sink right into.

There’s only a few minutes left until midnight when you finally speak.

“Joochan,” you murmur.

“Mm?”

“You ever think about where we’ll be this time next year?”

Joochan shifts his posture slightly. “Often, actually. Especially when I go to sleep at night and think about tomorrow - then I’ll wonder if it’ll even remotely go the way I want it to.”

“And how do you usually want it to go?” you ask.

“Someone has a lot of questions today,” Joochan remarks with a droll look on his face that makes you laugh briefly before his expression sobers. “But usually I want it to go safely. You know? Everything in its proper place and things like that. And more importantly, I want to know all the time that I’ll be able to see you.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking out over the view of the city. If you squint, you can just make out the boardwalk by the beach and the crowds of people who have gathered there, young and old alike. “I’m scared sometimes.”

Joochan frowns. “Scared of what? I’ll fight it off for you,” and he waves a threatening fist at nothing in particular.

“The future, I guess. It sounds silly but… sometimes I don’t know if we’ll always be okay. Like this, the way things are right now. Whether it’s tomorrow or next year or even after that.” Your voice fades in volume until it’s nearly lost against the threads of your scarf, and Joochan’s heart breaks a little when he hears it: the genuine uncertainty and timid fear that seeps past the smile you give him in an effort to hide it.

“Why do you think we might not be okay?”

You look down at your feet, almost embarrassed by your own honesty. “Well, people… change, Joo. They move places, and have goals to achieve and dreams to chase down. And we’re not immune to that either.”

It’s Joochan’s turn to be silent for a bit as he mulls over your words before he straightens in your hold, turning his face towards you so he can affectionately bump his nose against yours. “You’re right,” he says in a voice that mirrors your sadness, “and it would be a lie to say I don’t think about the same things you do. But”- and he leans in to give you a quick kiss that’s shaped like a smile - “it’d also be a lie to say that every dream doesn’t feature you in it. Because every dream of mine that I’ve ever had places you centre stage.”

He kisses you again, a little longer - a little more wistfully.

“You see, the real problem here is that you have me perpetually thinking that I can’t do any of this without you,” he says simply. “Whether it’s late night phone calls or early morning messages; or maybe we’ll find ourselves having to book flights for each other, holding bags full of gifts that remind us of us. And maybe it’ll be hard and maybe I’ll wake up some days, knowing I won’t be able to see you. But that doesn’t mean we won’t be okay.”

You swallow and Joochan watches you carefully, the urgency in his eyes prompting him to lift your chin so you can see it too.

“Even if we change,” he continues in a whisper, hoping you will understand the heart in his words. “And we should. And we will, and we’ll still be okay. You believe me, don’t you? Seeing as I’m the most amazing and magical boy in the universe?”

Somewhere, midnight comes and goes and the fireworks start, dousing you and Joochan in bursts of coloured light.

“Of course I do,” you smile with eyes that glitter with tears of relief and he pulls you into a tight hug, so tight you can feel every movement of his rib cage as he breathes in and out.

For once, you do not feel that fear deep down that threatens to taint your time with the only boy you think you cannot live without. And so you unreservedly hold him in return, fingers running through his hair as he tells you that he loves you, over and over again.

*

up, up and away.

-

There had been a time during your childhood when your one greatest wish had been to go see the stars.

So your friend Joochan, in all his clumsy sincerity, had done his best to make you a rocket out of a box he’d found at home. He’d then brought it to your house after he’d finished it, blue marker staining his fingertips and glitter shaped like stars lost in his thick fringe.

The two of you had sat in it together and looked up at the moon, holding hands from childish innocence and recounting thrilling tales of adventures you’d never had. And before having to go home to bed that day, he’d made you a promise that present-day Joochan complains about not being able to fulfill.

“I know I said I’d take you to the stars,” Joochan sighs in displeasure from where he lies on your bed, right next to you, “but while your boyfriend is exceptionally talented, you do know I’m no astronaut, right?”

You hold his hand in response and look into his eyes that sparkle with mirth and deeper in, shine with a love that always gives you peace.

It may be that Joochan will never be able to keep his promise of taking you to space in a real, functioning rocket. But, as you drop a kiss on his mouth that soon widens into a brilliant smile, you can’t find it in yourself to really care.

After all, it’s hard to miss the stars when for you, they all start with Joochan and end with him.

-

if u liked this please consider dropping a like and reblogging with ur thoughts because feedback is!! always appreciated thank you!!!

[blu-joons]

DATING SHINee A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Kim Kibum

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Kibum is very good at picking up at your hints, knowing exactly what sort of affection you need from him and then. He prides himself on always being able to be there to give you affection whenever it is that you need him with you.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

He loved getting to know you before he decided to think about dating you. The most important thing to Kibum was that the two of you had a close bond before doing anything major. He’d be with you most of the time when he had a few free hours, he was fond of your company from the moment he met you, and that never changed.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

After a couple of months and a few mixed messages, you began to distance yourself around Kibum as you struggled to find where you stood. When Kibum noticed that you didn’t want to be around him as much, he knew that he had to step in and make sure you knew exactly how he felt before he risked losing you. When he eventually managed to get hold of you and encourage you to meet up, he told you exactly how he felt.

D ⇴ DATES

Your dates with Kibum were usually quite romantic, he loved to have you round the evenings, take things nice and slowly, with music always playing in the background. Like his affection, he can pick up on your mood a lot and know exactly what sort of date you want. The usual answer is Kibum’s cooking. He loves to cook for you, and you love to be able to sit back and let him take care of you, especially as his meals are usually so delicious. Time at home is enough for your dates, just as long as you’re with each other.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

In his years in the industry, Kibum had had a few brief relationships, he tended to keep as much of it out of the limelight as he could. But you were his first serious relationship since his debut, and he was determined to keep you as protected as possible. If anyone ever asked him about dating, he’d be quick to shut them down before any rumours could be spread about you both which you were incredibly thankful for. He’d learnt over the years exactly how to keep you safe, and so that it what he always put first.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Whenever the two of you argued, it didn’t tend to go on for long. Kibum tended to get quite emotional when you both argued, he hated the feeling of not being able to talk to you or feeling like he was the one that hurt you. He’d usually tend to give you some space for a while, and then when you’d begin to drop clues that you were ready to talk, Kibum would appear straight away, desperate to try and sort things out between the two of you. To most people, he was incredibly blunt, but when he knew he was the one that had caused you to get upset, he would apologise immediately and admit that he was the one at fault.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

Kibum didn’t feel too much pressure in letting you meet his family, because his family wasn’t that big. He saw being in a relationship with you as rebuilding his family. Even though she wasn’t with him anymore, he’d tell you the most about his grandmother and plenty of stories about growing up with her care and love.

H ⇴ HOME

As many of your dates tended to be at Kibum’s apartment anyway, it didn’t take long for him to consider moving you in permanently. He loved having you around, and the fact that you bonded so well with his dogs too just seemed like another pro on the list to having you move in with him as soon as you possibly could.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Kibum was the first one to say, ‘I love you,’ at the end of his latest comeback. You’d been there through it all, supporting him through everything, and on the last night of promotion, he was desperate to make sure that you knew exactly how thankful he was. He knew it before that he loved you, but at the end of the shows, he knew he was finally ready to say it.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

His stare was enough to let anyone know when Kibum was feeling jealous, he wouldn’t shout and cause a scene, but his side eye would be enough to let someone know they’d crossed the line. He was incredibly protective of you, perhaps sometimes even a little bit possessive, but he could read a room well, and he’d know if someone was trying to come onto you. So, before they could, he’d make sure that they stayed firmly in their lane and made sure that they were very aware that you were already taken.

K ⇴ KIDS

Being an only child, Kibum was desperate to have at least a family of two kids with you. When he first told you that he didn’t want just one child, you were a little bit surprised, but as he explained to you about how he felt growing up as an only child, you could only sympathise with his reasoning for why he wanted to make sure that if he had a child, they’d grow up with a brother or sister who would stand beside them.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

The two of you would laugh whenever you were around each other, a lot of people always commented on how well suited the two of you were, and that definitely became obvious in your humour. The two of you watched the same programmes, listened to the same music, which meant you were always laughing at the same things together. Whenever the two of you started laughing together, it was impossible to get you to stop. The boys would often sit for a very long time and wait until you’d both finished giggling before continuing the conversation.

M ⇴ MISSING

Kibum trusted you with his life, but that never stopped him worrying about other people when he was on the road. He hated that he wasn’t there to hold your hand and keep you safe, it was always an incredibly hard time on him. Whilst he’d never get upset around you, the boys would often walk past his hotel room and hear little snuffles escaping. Whenever he was asked about it, he’d always reassure everyone that he was fine, but when he came back home and reunited with you, everyone who was on the road with him knew the reason behind his tear. It was always you, and the torment of having to spend any time away from you.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

The two of you tended to call each other ‘bub,’ it would confuse everyone else around you how you had the same nickname for each other, which only made things funnier for the two of you, winding the others up.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your body, not necessarily in sexual way, but just in a way of always wanting to hold you and be able to cuddle up tightly against you.

P ⇴ PDA

The two of you aren’t well known for your affection in public, Kibum works hard to keep you safe when you’re in public, so he’ll never usually do something to over the top. You’ll usually feel at least one of his hands rest up against your body whenever the two of you are out, he likes to keep you protected, and more importantly, by his side.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He loved to chat to you, so Kibum’s questions could quite literally consist of anything. The element of surprise was definitely something that you loved about him; you never quite knew what he was going to say to you next.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Kibum absolutely adored his dogs, which you learnt very quickly, but what nobody else knew was how he loved to buy outfits for his dogs, and for the two of you. Every holiday, he’d get the four of you to dress up in something to stick on the front of a card. Even though the rest of your families thought that the two of you were bonkers, you loved including the two of them in every little thing that you did together.

S ⇴ SEX

It’s always romantic whenever you’re with Kibum, neither one of you tends to dominate, you trust each other to know exactly what you want from the other. His hands would often wander around your body, he loved to rest against your hips or play with your hair. Kibum didn’t tend to say a lot when the two of you were intimate with each other, but as soon as the two of you laid down after, he’d make sure to fill you with a lot of love.

T ⇴ TEXTS

You’d often give him pup updates whenever he was away, he loved receiving texts from you to make sure that you and the dogs were alright. He hated being away from the two of you, even if it was just for a few hours, so your texts were always welcome.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

The two of you were like two peas in a pod, it was scary watching the two of you sometimes, you just always managed to make the perfect team. Most others around you were jealous of how well matched the two of you were.

V ⇴ VACATION

Kibum didn’t like to go away too often, he much preferred to stay at home and be with you. If he ever had a lengthy holiday, he’d use to either go and visit his family or yours, usually switching turns each time. Family was everything to him, so he’d much rather use it visiting them then exploring the world without them.

W ⇴ WHINING

If he didn’t have your attention, Kibum would usually moan by making a comment under his breath, refusing to apologise until you finally gave him your attention.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Whilst Kibum was a lot more of a cuddler than a kisser, that didn’t stop him from often trying to sneak up on you and give you a kiss. It was almost like a competition to him, the more he could make you jump, the better. He’d often end up kissing you with an elbow jabbing into his chest from the surprise, or an arm striking at his bicep as you scolded him yet again for terrifying the life out of you so unexpectedly.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his best friend, Kibum loved everything about being with you.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Falling asleep with you was Kibum’s favourite thing about being in a relationship. He always felt so comfortable when he could hear your light breaths or feel the rise and fall of your chest as he slept, sending him off into a nice dream.

---

Masterlist

[murfeelee]

Hi there, just a question for you if you have the time ♡ I know that you allow people to convert your Cyberpunk items from TS3 to TS4 freely (you are amazing, you know that?). However since I have the game, do you have or know of a tutorial for exporting from my files? The one I found was very general, very not 'beginner friendly'. Else I will just bring some of your stuff over if it's not been done yet, miss having them in my game (and base game TS4 only is limited). Love you ♡

Hi! Yeah, feel free to convert whatever; I think CC TOU/policies are ridiculous, and perversely counterproductive to uploading content publicly on the internet anyway.

Just be warned that a lot of my CC's not that great, cuz C2077 uniquely does not use or include typical diffuse textures, so I had to make many of the textures myself (and that's never a good idea, LOL). Not to mention, I had to shave off 1/2 - 3/4 of the polys on most of the meshes, cuz they're just excessively high. Even after decimating the polys they're still too dang high. It's been a pain in the neck to do anything with this effing game, even when not actually playing it! (－‸ლ)

☽✶•.¸(✶•.¸★¸.•✶´)¸.•✶´☾ ☆«´¨`•°°•´¨`»☆    ☽.¸.•✶(¸.•✶´★`✶•.¸)`✶•.☾

Welcome to Murf’s School of Crap and Crap-Making!

School Motto: Prepare to be tortured! For Science!

Lesson #6B: MORE ON GAME EXTRACTING (PT2)

☽✶•.¸(✶•.¸★¸.•✶´)¸.•✶´☾ ☆«´¨`•°°•´¨`»☆    ☽.¸.•✶(¸.•✶´★`✶•.¸)`✶•.☾

Trust me: extracting from C2077 in general is not very beginner friendly--this is the hardest game I've ever converted from, next to all the Koei Warriors games. Because not only did I have to use EFFING COMMAND LINES again, but the way CDPR arranged the game files (particularly the textures--or lack thereof)--were just saturated in demonic energy.

Mind you, I extracted C2077 back in the EARLY days, within the first weeks of the game's release, way before the Toolkit updated and got a GUI and CDPR released its dev toolkits for modders, so it’s possible I’m giving you outdated information, as the process nowadays might be pretty different from how it was back when I did it.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I used the CP2077 Toolkit here, and followed the steps here.

To be fair, the steps themselves are actually very straightforward. I'm just a lazy, spoiled little ingrate who likes nice clean and simple GUI tools so i can click a button and see all the meshes & textures and go about my frikkin day. But no, instead i have to sit here with EFFING COMMAND LINES and try to figure out WTF these lines of code & text frikkin mean, with zero mesh preview tool to speak of. So I literally have no frikkin idea what anything looks like until I import it into Milkshape/Blender/3DS Max. GRAND. 🤬

(My horoscope told me I needed to get more sleep, and boy they weren't kidding, cuz I'm ornery AF today. 😩 )

But yeah, basically all you have to do is open the CP2077 toolkit .exe, and use the format the steps provide you with whatever the directory is where you installed the game.

As I've explained before in Pt1, all games bundle their files differently, so the trick with extracting is just to figure out what kind of bundle it is, what's in it, how to open it, and how to convert the mesh files into .obj format and the textures into .dds format.

For C2077, most of the files are in typical .bin files, with the meshes (.mesh files) & textures (.xbm files) in content\basegame_4_gamedata.archive | content\basegame_3_nightcity.archive |

So all you have to do is follow the steps and the formats they give you: copy/paste their extraction format code, and the "path to archive" is your installation directory: (e.g.: "archive -e -p "F:\Games\Cyberpunk2077\archive\pc\content\basegame_4_gamedata.archive" -w *.bin" to extract the .mesh files; or "archive -u --uext dds -p F:\Games\Cyberpunk2077\archive\pc\content\basegame_4_gamedata.archive -w *.bin" to extract the .dds files from the Gamedata bin archive).

Then just wait several HOURS (no exaggeration) for each archive to extract. I let mine run overnight for a a day or two--it took bloody frikkin forever.

Once you have all the meshes extracted, the good news is that converting them to .obj files The Sims can read is very easy, cuz all you have to do is use good ole NOESIS, THANK GOD~! ^0^ (Noesis can also open the .xbm texture files, BTW--it’s that clutch; I keep telling y’all.)

The issue with the textures is that C2077 just legit doesn't have many. 💀 It's a feature, not a bug--instead of using diffuse textures (like The Sims' overlay/multiplier diffuse), games like C2077 and Call of Duty instead use materials--kind of like the sample fabric swatches in a textiles shop or tailor, with dozens upon dozens of simple materials & microblends & patterns (a leather print, a metallic sheen, a paisley pattern, etc) shared between all meshes. It’s awful.

So you the extractor/porter/converter are now left with the sad task of patching all these materials together to make a lick of sense on a mesh that might very well use 100 different material files (no joke!) rather than 1 or 2 diffuse textures. And WOE BE UPON YOU if you’re trying to convert it for The Sims 3, where meshes can only use textures on ONE UV Map. The saving grace of TS3′s UV Mapping is that we have CASt, so often we can get away with having plain multipliers, so long as the RGBY Mask allows us to have recolorable channels that do a lot of that heavy lifting for us with patterns & color wheels. For TS2/TS4, however, I imagine more work would need to be done providing swatches, as nothing’s recolorable in those games.

So REJOICE at the pithy handful of actual diffuse textures (mostly decals & posters, etc) that CDPR bothered to grace us with in C2077--they're acts of mercy, I promise you. 🙏

And speaking of UV Maps--C2077′s are upside down. Which is absolutely frikkin lovely; who doesn’t love extra work, seriously. 😒

But yeah, that’s it for extracting, really.

Again, the method I used might be outdated by now, since I did all of mine in December 2020/January 2021, and I haven’t needed to stay up to date with the tools or anything since i already got what I needed out of them. :\

[lovenona]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT ADELE IM LIKE CRYING. Like oh my god I looked forward for so long to this reunion and you went above my expectations and then PH MY GPS LIKE I CANNOT GET OVER THIS CRUSHING WEIGHT I FEEL. The two star crossed lovers meeting again but their reunion is nothing like the myths or the legends. Just oh my god okay I don’t even know where to begin I was literally yelling the entire time I was reading this new chapter! (1/4)

The parable of the cave. CHOSO god I love him so much 🥰🥰 but okay the whole dream Sequence- geto being the moon and sukuna being the sun- god your mind!!!! At first I know for a fact 💯 that toji is suppose to be the 4th son coming to bring it all down. Or at least I thought so until we get to part 8. And god the way you write angst literally leaves me with a pit in my chest and the urge to yell at both of these characters. (2/4)

God this chapter left me spiraling. I love the way you portray the readers / tojis relationship. It feels as if it was doomed for the start- with toji thinking too big for the dreams he had had reader not thinking big enough. In a way there’s a balance but right now toji is not himself and cannot be the balance that the reader needs. Again you blew me away I can’t believe the odyssey is almost over 😔 Like this chapter left me speechless I feel as though my brain is scrambling to make sense of all the things toji has been though, the unresolved anguish the reader feels about him and the impending doom that is this new captain! I’m most definitely gonna do a little rereading to look over what I missed cause I could not put my phone down. -🥸

[SOBBING AND CRYING] THANK U 😭 i am not exaggerating when i say i am always looking forward to ur hot takes whenever i update and u never disappoint 😭 i was looking forward to writing this reunion from the moment mahito was like Hey in part 2 and GODDDDD i wish i cld keep writing it there was so much stuff i wanted to add that didn’t make it in (read: toji and mc go ‘hunting for boars’ one night, mc and toji staring longingly at each other as they walk on the beach, mc and toji at the old woman’s stall, etc. etc. etc) but i am obsessed with the vibes of their tragic past and their sort of doomed romance and whatever so what can u do (unsolicited odyssey music: the song i played 500 times (no joke) to manifest the flashbacks) 

(also CHOSO....i mf love interlude 3 but let me tell u it took me like 10 years to write it because i wrote it, hated it, went on hiatus, and then rewrote completely differently later KSGJSG....but the line in part 8 when u go onto the ship that was like ‘even sound doesn’t echo off the walls’ or whatever was a line from my shitty version of interlude 3 RIP)

as for ur delightful guesswork i cannot confirm or deny anything in the spirit of leaving u all on ur toes but i really like the big brain activity going on here !!!!! we will eventually find out the answers to most of those things tho so sit tight 😌 (i decided not to publish that ask because some of it is pretty darn close so don’t tell SKGJSGS but also i feel that some of it is quite obvious RIP) 

and god i know....i am genuinely distraught that there r only 2 big parts left...granted they will both be long as fuck but STILL i have no idea what I'm going to do with myself when it’s all done 😭 this and this r the themes for part 9 tho and let me tell u it will genuinely crush my soul to have to write down what is going to be written every day i ask my brain why we r about to do what i have planned <//3

but anyway thank u for letting me ramble and THANK U SO MUCH FOR ALL UR INPUT AND BIG BRAIN THEORIES 😭 i've been rereading these all weekend it makes my heart SO HAPPY I HOPE U HAVE THE BEST DAY EVER

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

U N P L A N N E D, part 1

There was one other time when you found yourself like this. Just once. 

In a bathroom stall in your college dorm room, your roommate on the other side with bated breath. What’s it say? She had asked, her voice echoing off the beige tiles that spilled into the messy living room, littered with solo cups and stale tortilla chips.

This time you were alone. No roommate on the other side of the door, no beige tile. Instead, a clean, white bathroom nestled on the third floor of the Los Angeles Facebook office. 

The white plastic stick in your hand, this time, showed a tiny plus sign. A light pink symbol of what was usually happiness. But alone in the bathroom at work didn’t feel like a happy place. 

You stared down at it, wondering if the tears in your eyes were responsible for the blurring of the result. You shook it, wiped at your eyes, and checked again. Still positive. 

So you capped it and tossed it into the top drawer of your desk a few minutes later, more than happy to pretend that it wasn’t a looming disaster. A life-changing, career-altering disaster. 

When it burned a hole in your drawer, begging you to open it and pray that the plus sign had changed, you decided to text Lexi. 

Y/N L/N (3:34pm): Broke down and took a test. 

You put your phone face down, hoping that an impending text from your roommate wouldn’t create a higher heart rate than what was already pounding in your ears. You tried to take a few breaths. 

This wasn’t the plan. This wasn’t the way you pictured life and it certainly wasn’t the way you pictured your summer. When the phone buzzed next to your mouse, you grabbed it so quickly you almost dropped it to the floor. 

Lexi MacMillan (3:35pm): And??

Y/N L/N (3:35pm): Positive.

You stared at the screen, watched as the three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again, and then vanished. You imagined Lexi sitting on set, maybe in her dressing room or maybe right beside her co-star, typing and erasing, typing and erasing. 

You ignored the email that came through on your computer, likely a request from a team member to edit one of your last images, this marketing campaign is due at 5pm! This marketing campaign was also the furthest thing from your mind right now. 

Your phone started buzzing in your hand, a picture of Lexi with big white sunglasses splashed itself across the screen. You answered it quickly, holding a hand up to your mouth to keep your voice low and your words private.

“Hi,” you said, heading back for the bathroom that was around the corner from your office. 

“What the actual fuck, dude? Are you serious?”

“Yes--why would I lie about that? Do you think I’m that twisted?!”

She let out a noise of exasperation. “No, I just--I don’t know--I thought you were being paranoid or some shit! I didn’t think it was actually possible!”

“Me neither,” you said, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool metal. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright. People get false positives all the time, right?”

Her voice was suddenly more relaxed than it had been, like she realized how serious this was and how fucked you were. 

“I think people get false negatives,” you replied, defeated.

“Okay, well, you can take another test tonight.”

“Okay.”

“And then if it’s still positive, you have to go to the doctor. That’s the first thing.”

“Right.”

“They’ll do another test there,” she informed you. 

“Uh huh.”

You thought back to your most recent sexual encounter, half drunk and giggly, white linens and sneaking out when he was asleep on top a memory foam pillow. Lexi already made it home, she was high on the couch with a bag of pretzels when you sauntered in at 4am. You made pizza bagels and laughed until sunrise about the fact that you hadn’t gotten laid in what felt like ages. 

I don’t know how you made it that long, she said. You must have an extremely low sex drive. 

Or you just have a high one, you laughed. You’re always horny. 

You didn’t think about it again for weeks. Okay, that was a lie. The drinks were good and the sex had been even better. Lexi had dragged you along to the party even though you knew all the players. You had deadlines for days coming up and a Sunday night didn’t seem like a good time to end up drunk somewhere near Laurel Canyon. But you went anyway.

The first time you realized something might be off was when you were a day late. It never happened. You lived your life on schedule and your period followed the rules--it was no exception. It typically came in the morning, and by bedtime, you were only a bit concerned. You went to sleep with confidence that you’d wake up to it. 

The second day came and went, too. Lexi put on her OBGYN hat and assured you that it was nothing to worry about. Women are late all the time, uteruses have a mind of their own, really. 

Days three and four were busy at work. Five and six were spent finalizing ideas for a new commercial campaign for a product launch, dinner with Lexi and Glenne. It wasn’t until the seventh day, when the light purple app on your phone gave a gentle nudge. Be sure to log your period! 

There was no way you’d miss it altogether. You’d been careful and you watched him toss the condom into a garbage bin in the bathroom through tired eyes. He fell asleep beside you while he traced a circle on your skin--you were sure you’d never hear from him. 

So you slipped out in the early morning light and took an Uber home, knowing that while it might not mean anything, it was at least a story to tell your close friends and to keep tucked away in your mind. 

“Okay--I have to go,” Lexi said suddenly. “Derek’s being a dumbass today and can’t get his fucking lines right, so, I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you said, voice small, blurry-eyed again. You let yourself slump down to the floor, at least thankful that this time, the tile wasn’t beige. 

You did your best to make it through the rest of the day, playing Lexi’s words over and over in your head. People get false positives all the time! You weren’t so sure, but telling yourself that seemed to quell the nausea. 

Traffic was heavy on the way home, sunglasses pushed up on your face and radio high enough to drown out your thoughts. You parked your car on the same leaf-littered street in Century City, walked the block to your apartment, and dropped your bag on the floor before heading for the bathroom. 

Lexi keyed in right after you sat down, water on to induce the stream of urine that you had prayed for the whole way home. 

“Hi,” she said, pushing her sunglasses off of her face and dropping her keys on the kitchen counter. She let out a small laugh at the sight of you: pants around your ankles, hair up in a scrunchie, pink plastic cap in your mouth as you held the second stick between your legs. 

The afternoon sunshine danced through the window, a breeze from the open sliding door felt like sweet relief in your stuffy first floor apartment.

“Hi,” you breathed out, flushing and pulling up your pants before capping the test and putting it on the counter. 

She took a few steps towards you, her eyes wider than usual. “How long does it take to show up?” 

“I don’t know--a minute or two, maybe? The first one was quick.”

She came over and stood beside you, her eyes on the tiny window where the result would appear. She crossed her arms and leaned over, letting her shoulder bump into yours. 

There was one line forming, like fog fading in the early morning, the other came into view as the two of you stood side by side. You let out a shaky breath--tears in your eyes again when she turned to see you. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not the end of the world.”

You didn’t say anything in response, but a few sobs escaped through your lips when she wrapped her arms around you. She smoothed your hair with her hand and eventually brought you back to the kitchen, pulling two beers out of the fridge and setting them on the counter as she rummaged through a drawer for a bottle opener.

“I can’t have that!” You said, pointing at it like it was poison, mascara smudged beneath your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” she said, a small laugh from her mouth pulled one from yours, too. “Damn--sorry, it just--felt like a good option.”

“It would be,” you said. “Typically.”

She was quiet for a second. “Is it his?”

You shrugged, staring at the shade of dark red polish on your nails. “Has to be, right?”

“You haven’t had sex with anyone else?” 

She asked as if she didn’t know. You shook your head. 

She sighed. “That, uh, that makes it a bigger deal.”

“I know--I don’t even--what am I supposed to do? Call him up and tell him? I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should call Glenne.”

“No!” You said quickly, shaking your head with force. “Don’t bring her into it yet. She’ll just tell Jeff and I need to figure shit out first.”

Lexi bit her lip, torn between the two options. She’d known Glenne since they were kids, they grew up down the street from each other in Sherman Oaks and when they got drunk enough, they tried to remember the super secret handshake they’d made up in the 8th grade. 

You’d met Glenne plenty of times in college, especially after Lexi became a more permanent fixture in your life. You’d met Lexi at resident assistant training the fall of your sophomore year, but you still had no clue how adults trusted her to be in charge of eighteen students each semester. 

The party was at Glenne’s house--the one she shared with her boyfriend Jeff. You’d met him a handful of times, too, but you typically opted out of the dinner parties or cocktail hours that Lexi invited you to. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like her friends. They’d always been nice and welcoming, but being the one person not involved in the entertainment industry normally left you feeling like the odd man out. 

What's the latest at Facebook? They’d ask, gathered around a table with wine glasses in hand. 

You’d give them the update, tell them about whatever marketing campaign you’d been working on or whatever new feature you’d helped with, but the conversation always made it’s way back to music or acting or something in between. 

Glenne worked for Apple Music in artist relations, her boyfriend for a prominent artist management firm. Lexi MacMillan, a self-proclaimed B-list actress in a new Netflix series, fit right into their world of Teslas and hedge fund investments. 

She never liked to admit that she came from money, and she was more than humble about the uneven split in your rent or the fact that she often paid for groceries. Your salary at Facebook was good--more than a lot of your other friends who had graphic design and marketing degrees, but it was small in comparison to the type of money the rest of them were pulling in. 

“Well she’s gonna be the easiest way to get in touch with him.”

“I know,” you waved a hand and took a seat at the island. “Just, not yet. I mean, don’t you think I’ll need proof? I can’t just show up on his doorstep and say: ‘hey, remember me? I’m your manager’s girlfriend’s friend’s friend and we had sex one time at your house in late April and now I’m pregnant?’”

She stifled a laugh, nodding as if it was a good idea, her tone completely serious. “I mean personally I would love to see you do that.”

“Well, I’m not,” you said firmly. “There must be rules for this type of shit. I don’t know the etiquette.”

“You mean the baby mamma etiquette?”

You shot her a look, narrowed eyes before you let your forehead rest on the counter, a groan from your lips. “My life is over, Lexi--this is seriously the worse thing that can happen.”

She brought the beer bottle up to her lips to take a swig. “Which is why we should call Glenne.”

“I have to go to the doctor first, okay? That way we don’t stir up any shit without really knowing if they’re right or not.” You motioned over your shoulder to the test you’d left behind on the bathroom counter. The other, from earlier, was still in the side pocket of your work bag. 

Lexi nodded, brown eyes with a new shade of sympathy. 

**

A woman bounced her baby on her knee, big blue eyes looked up at the two of you, nervous and caving inward in the waiting room chairs. 

“Do they all stare like that?” Lexi leaned over and whispered, her gaze fixed on the tiny human beside you. 

“I don’t know,” you said quickly, hoping she wouldn’t make any other remarks. She didn’t--quickly distracted by the nurse who called your name and greeted you both with a smile.

“Y/N?” 

You stood, walked forward and ignored the nervousness in your stomach. Lexi was following behind, she’d been positive and upbeat in the car as if heading over to the gynecologist for what you’d both been referring to as a legit test was a typical Wednesday morning errand. 

“Are you her partner?” The nurse smiled over at her when she pointed at a chair in the hallway for you to sit in. She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around your arm when Lexi pulled her head back. 

“No, just her roommate.”

“Just my roommate,” you nodded, repeating her words as if that’d ease the tension in your muscles. 

The nurse smiled, scribbled a few numbers on a post-it and before handing you a small, plastic cup. You disappeared into the bathroom and realized you’d never thought so much about pee in your entire life. When you were done, you walked back to the small room that the same nurse pointed you towards to find Lexi in the small visitor’s chair beside the paper-lined exam table.

She looked up quickly, a life-like plastic uterus was in her hands. “I maybe broke it.”

“Put it down,” you ordered, rolling your eyes at her childlike curiosity. “Let’s just get in and get out, okay?”

“Knock knock!” A voice from the doorway, Laura Weston, red hair and blue eyes. Her white coat covered a pink blouse, one that matched the color of blush on her cheeks. “Good to see you, Y/N--who’s this?”

Lexi extended her hand and smiled. “Lexi MacMillan, roommate and moral support, nice to meet you.”

“So I hear there’s a possibility of pregnancy?” Dr. Weston sat down on a rolling stool, picked up the chart on the counter and flipped through some pages. She closed it, waited a second, and offered a smile when you didn’t answer. “How are you doing?”

You nodded, licked at your lips, and then met her gaze. “Been better.”

You’d been seeing Dr. Weston for a while--you found her card in the health services building on campus during your Freshman year. Now, a whole seven years later, her smile was a calming presence in a moment of fear and uncertainty. 

“Well, note says you’ve taken two tests, and they were both positive?”

You nodded again. “Just a drugstore brand, though. I don’t know how accurate they are.”

She tilted her head side to side, lifted her shoulders a bit when she rolled towards the counter. “They’re good enough--we’re running the urine sample now and that’ll give a good idea, too. Would you like to do a blood test to be sure?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s do that.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “I’ll have Justine order that for the lab downstairs.” She produced a paper wheel diagram, the colors of the rainbow seemed to distinguish different parts of a typical menstrual cycle. “When was your last period?”

Lexi handed over your phone. “April, the middle of the month. I was due eight days ago.” You pulled up the app that now seemed like less of a friend and more of a source of shame. You were proud of how well you knew your cycle. You could typically tell when you were ovulating, knew enough about your PMS symptoms to know what to expect. 

“And do you know when the possible date of conception was?”

“April 18th,” a tinge of red on your cheeks. “That’s the only possibility.”

So sure, maybe you weren’t the most sexually active human on the planet. Maybe you were slightly embarrassed that the first time you had sex in a good eleven months resulted in a possible pregnancy. 

She scribbled something on a piece of paper, just like the nurse had. A knock on the door that Dr. Weston had shut behind her. The same nurse delivered another post-it note. Pink this time, not blue like before. Dr. Weston took it in her hands and then looked up at you, an unreadable look on her face when the nurse quietly left the room.

“That urine sample read positive, too.”

You didn’t mean to do it again, but another shaky breath left your mouth and Lexi was on her feet, a hand rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort. You wiped at your face, feeling guilty for the outburst of emotion. 

Plenty of people wished and hoped and prayed for this moment. They dreamed about it and tried for years to have this moment. And you’d been stupid enough to stumble your way into it. Ahead of schedule, unprepared, and unplanned. 

“I’ll order the bloodwork and you can do that on your way out--just to be sure. But take some time and when that result comes back we can talk about some options.”

You nodded--her words were a jumble of sounds that you couldn’t really comprehend. She offered a smile and left the two of you alone, Lexi still standing beside you.

“Let’s go do the bloodwork, okay? We can get ice cream when we’re finished!” 

You nodded, wiping your cheeks again before hopping down from the table. You knew she’d keep her word. 

**

The sunny California sky and a cone of soft-serve from McDonald’s made the afternoon somewhat better. You worked from home and went to bed exhausted, almost feeling detached from reality. 

You talked with Lexi that night about having Glenne over for dinner. It’d been a few weeks since you’d seen her, drinks after work one night to celebrate Lexi’s show getting signed for a second season. So when she knocked on the door of your apartment the next evening, Lexi opened it with a big smile. 

“Hi, hi,” she said, opening her arms in greeting. “Look at your beautiful face,” she pinched Glenne’s cheek between her thumb and forefinger. 

Glenne laughed and pushed her hand away, leaning around Lexi’s shoulder to see you in the kitchen. “She’s high already?”

“No,” you laughed, “she just loves you.”

Glenne made her way past her friend, offering you a hug before she set her purse on the counter. She’d always been so poised--perfect, clear skin, hair that was always flawlessly colored and cut. She took a seat on one of the stools and put her chin in her hands, “please tell me you have margarita mix.”

Lexi laughed, rounding the kitchen counter and heading for the fridge. “Oh, do we!”

“Tacos are on the way,” you said, reaching for glasses from above the sink. 

Mexican was always the go-to. You’d moved in with Lexi after college, and when Glenne ended up living only a short drive away, take-out became a regular reason for a get together. 

“How’s life?” Glenne stared up at you. “I’ve been so busy which is why I had to cancel on that movie last week. But--what have you been up to?”

Her question was pointed at you. While you and Glenne were definitely friends, you trusted that she communicated with Lexi a lot more regularly about life updates. 

You cleared your throat, ignored the awkward glance that Lexi shot in your direction when she reached for the tequila above the fridge. “Same old, you know. Just work, and stuff.”

Okay, so lying wasn’t a strong suit. You forced a smile and turned to Lexi, hoping she’d jump in with a hilarious story or funny remark. She was too busy lining up the cups, ready to distribute the liquor. 

You looked back to Glenne. “Uh, I wanted to talk to you actually.”

That got Lexi to turn around. Her eyes were wide, lips parted as if she was thinking oh, you’re doing it right now? 

“Remember in April, at that party--” You trailed off, referencing it as if it was ages ago. 

“The album wrap?”

“Yeah, when I, you know, got laid for the first time in a while?”

She laughed, looking up at you with an amused smile. “Yeah?”

Glenne had been the most excited about your rendezvous that evening. When she’d first introduced you the two of you, she made your promise you wouldn’t get all weird around him. Apparently people did that. You laughed it off and tried to ignore him at the other end of the dinner table--an Italian restaurant in Studio City for her birthday last fall. He showed up twenty minutes late.

Lexi was still now, tequila on the counter, she wore nothing but a pair of shorts and a tube top in the afternoon heat. Glenne was impatient, the smile fading from her face when you broke eye contact with her for a second. 

She tilted her head to the side. “What? You’re freaking me out.”

“I’m, uh, I’m actually pregnant.”

Quiet. Outside the windows, the setting sun illuminated a hazy Los Angeles dusk. Kids swam in a pool at the house next door, their laughter was muffled through the sliding door out to your patio. It felt strange to say it like that. Up until this morning, the word possibly had been sprinkled in, a safe and reassuring disclaimer. 

“You’re joking,” she said, readjusting in her seat, the color drained from her tan skin.

You swallowed. “I’m not.”

She looked over to Lexi, then brought her gaze back to you. “And you’re saying it’s his?”

You rolled your eyes a little. “He’s literally the only person I’ve had sex with in the last year.” Lexi came over to the counter to stand beside you. She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the smooth granite. Glenne just stared at you, still in disbelief.

“I took two home tests on Tuesday and went to the doctor yesterday.” 

What you didn’t tell her is that you cried this morning when the email came through, new test results available from Dr. Weston’s office! Positive. Both the urine and the blood test. There was no denying it now--even if you wanted to. 

“Holy fuck,” she said. “Holy fucking shit. This is not good, you guys.”

“Don’t, Glenne,” Lexi stood back up and shook her head, making a face at her friend. “She’s already freaked the fuck out and she won’t stop fucking crying, okay? She doesn’t need you to add to that.”

You tried to swallow the emotion now, heat to your cheeks when Glenne rolled her eyes.

“I’m not trying to add to it--I’m just--I have no clue how they’ll take that.”

You knew who she was referring to. His team. The people around him who’d made sure, for all this time, that something like this never happened. 

She let out a sigh and looked up at you again. She stood from her seat and rounded the counter. “I’m sorry--I just--are you okay? How are you feeling?” She hugged you, it felt more obligatory than genuine. “You haven’t told him, have you? Does he know?! Jeff doesn’t know!”

“No--you two are the only people who know. I haven’t even told my mom.”

Glenne’s arms still encircled you, Lexi stepped over and hugged you both, a kitchen group hug. “This means more tequila for us, Glenney.”

“You’re fucked up,” she laughed in response, pulling away and looking at Lexi. 

It was quiet for a second, that was Lexi’s cue to make them both a margarita. Glenne went to sit back down, immediately going into business mode when she clasped her hands on top of the counter.

She took a deep breath, you were unsure if that was for your benefit or her own. “So--okay. Where are you at with it all?”

“Are you asking if I’m, like, excited? I am not excited. This is not how my life is supposed to go.”

“Oh enough with the plan, will you?” Lexi rolled her eyes and poured the liquor into two matching glasses, nonchalance lacing her voice. 

“Well forgive me for ideally wanting to find a partner before having a baby,” you shot back at her. 

“That’s not what I mean,” she turned around. “It’s just--I dunno, dude, you’re always so hard on yourself if something doesn’t go according to the plan. I get it--this is a big one, but, stressing over your plan isn’t gonna help.”

Glenne nodded, almost reluctant to side with Lexi. “I’ve heard about the plan. You are obsessed with the plan.”

“I’m not obsessed with it,” you retorted. “I just have a good sense of how I want my life to go.”

Had. You changed the verb tense in your mind. You had a good sense, until now. 

“Well, are you...gonna keep it?” Glenne’s question was innocent, her eyes searched your face as soon as the words left her mouth, she looked nervous, like she didn’t know if it was okay to ask.

A tired voice. “I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I haven’t even thought that far.”

She nodded. “You have to tell him. Have you even talked to him at all since then?”

“No,” you laughed. “It was only, like, a month ago.”

“He didn’t text or call?” she pulled her head back in surprise.

You shrugged. “No. I wasn’t expecting that. Why? Did he mention me?”

“It came up once or twice, yeah.”

“With who?”

“With me and Jeff--and Lexi.”

You turned to your roommate, narrowed eyes when she delivered the drinks. You knew she’d seem him once since then--a brunch one morning before Glenne left town for business. 

“I told you about it--he just said you were nice and that we should all hang out,” she mimicked his accent, earning a laugh from Glenne.

“That wasn’t the first time you met him, though, right?” Glenne pulled the glass to her lips, took a sip and then made a face. “Jesus, strong enough?”

“I figured you might need it since your boyfriend is about to be hella upset.”

“Thank you, thanks for that,” you made a face at her. “But no--” you turned back to Glenne to answer her question. “I met him at your birthday party last year--in Studio City.”

“Right,” she nodded. The doorbell rang and Lexi went to greet the delivery person, or, more so, the tacos. 

“But listen, you can’t tell anyone, okay? I don’t even know what I’m gonna do yet.”

She closed her eyes, made a face that told you it was going to be hard to keep her mouth shut. You leaned forward and lowered your voice, hoping to convey how serious this was. “Give me a few days to just--to talk to him first.”

She dropped your gaze, bit at her lip. You knew it was a big ask. Don’t tell your boyfriend something that is about to make his life a living hell. 

“Please, Glenne.”

She let out a long sigh, one that sounded like it was slowly deflating her lungs, tired and unsure. “Fine,” she said. “But you’ve got to get in touch with him then--like, soon.”

You nodded, Lexi reappeared from the front door with a box in her hands and a smile on her face. “Okay--two for each of us and plenty of guac to go around.”

“So,” Glenne pursed her lips. “Need his phone number?”

**

It felt like one of those dreams you couldn’t wake up from. Like a cloud that looms over the city when everyone is dying for a sunny day. 

You ignored the two phone calls from your mom you got in the span of three days--quick to text her some excuse about work or being busy with something at home. It felt too soon to tell her. You didn’t even know what he’d say or what he’d think or do or feel and the last thing you wanted to do was get a bunch of people involved in this before you even knew what to expect. 

There were a few options, in terms of what his response might be. Glenne had continued to prep you that night in your kitchen, the more margaritas in her the more she accepted that she was now complicit. In moments it felt normal, laughing and talking and then watching a stupid youtube video of some kid falling off of skateboard. 

But when you went to bed and then woke up, realizing that no amount of sleep would change the current predicament, you decided that maybe it was time to get in touch with him. 

You had no clue when or how or where. Over text? On the phone? Lexi agreed that was too impersonal. Out to dinner? Too public. In person? Terrifying, and possibly not an option. 

The truth was that you didn’t know him. He was someone who happened to be friends with your friend. Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that’s what you told yourself when you saw a billboard on the side of the 405 with his face on it. 

So you didn’t know if he’d even want to see you--he might consider you an acquaintance or even a stranger and maybe he had no desire to ever speak to you again.

You went about work and life as if everything was normal. You showered and brushed your teeth and took solace in knowing that whatever form of life was inside you was so tiny that it could just as well be a blip on the radar. 

A story in the future of hey, remember that time, when you were, and then it...

Plenty of people got pregnant and lost it, not even knowing until it was too late. You weren’t sure if you were wishing for that, in all honesty, but you knew that the alternative felt too overwhelming to think of right now. 

But when you found yourself sitting outside in the courtyard on your lunch break, a search typed into the app store for pregnancy tracker, you figured that maybe it was time to bite the bullet. If you were starting to think in terms of what size fruit a baby is at any given stage, maybe it was time to loop him in. 

You pulled up your text thread with Glenne--scrolled up past a meme and a recipe she’d sent you, until you found his name and number. You clicked it once, create new message. 

You stared at the blank bubble. A thousand words and a thousand choices of what to say and how to say it. With a rush of adrenaline, you exited out. Clicked the number again, call now. 

It rang. Three times. Then voicemail. A deep breath, you stood from the bench and started to pace. 

Beep. “Hey, uh, this is Y/N--uh, Y/N L/N. Lexi MacMillan’s roommate. I hope you’ve been well since I saw you, and, yeah--maybe we could get dinner or something soon. My number is--the one I’m calling on, so, I know you’re probably really busy right now, that’s fine. Just, uh, yeah, would love to talk with you. Okay, bye.”

You pulled the phone away from your face and wanted to throw it into the bushes. Would love to talk with you? That didn’t exactly do it justice. 

You let out a breath and clicked it to sleep, hoping that maybe it’d get lost in translation and you’d never have to talk to him or see him or think of him ever again. 

Something told you that wasn’t very likely. 

You went back inside and finished up the day of work, thankful for distraction from Aarav when he found you in the lounge. 

“Did you see the request that Carson sent?” He dropped his laptop on the coffee table and headed for the vending machine nearby. “Not to sound like a dick, but, he’s out of touch with reality. I’m concerned about him at this point.”

“Why?” You laughed, “cause he doesn’t understand that we can’t deliver a whole project with only two hours to do it?”

“Exactly,” he leaned down to reach for the bag of popcorn it spit out. “Hopefully he just fucking leaves and goes to fucking Tinder--he could even go to the Instagram department, for all I care.”

“Levi hates him anyway--pretty sure he regrets hiring him.”

He came to sit next to you and then opened the bag, putting his feet up on the glass table in front of you. “Yeah, well, Levi’s out of here as soon as he gets something with Apple.”

You smirked over at your favorite coworker, knowing exactly what was coming out of his mouth next. 

“And then you’ll get promoted. Much deserved, the queen of saving my ass.”

You brushed your hair off your shoulder playfully. “You’re welcome.”

He cleared his throat, opened up his laptop. “Levi’s great--but if you’re my boss, I’m working remotely two days a week instead of one.”

“We’ll see about that,” you said, giving him the side eye when you looked back to your screen.

You fell into comfortable silence--grateful for the change of scenery from your office that was far enough away from Aarav and Simone, the two people who made work feel like fun. So you got back to the project, sent your designs to Carson when you finished, and prayed that he wouldn’t have a fit over the fact that you didn’t take his advice on using the Aileron font instead of Arimo.

He emailed you, eventually, but you didn’t have time to read it. As soon as it opened on your screen, your phone rang--a Los Angeles area code appeared on the screen and you felt your stomach drop to the floor. You looked over at Aarav. “Sorry--I, uh, I have to get this.”

You stepped away, leaving him on the sofa with your laptop, hand still deep in his bag of popcorn. You swiped across the screen, brought the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, uh, Y/N? It’s Harry.”

__

table of contents | talk to me + join the tag list

author’s note: Y’ALL. I’m back. As if starting a new story literally DAYS after I finish one isn’t crazy, here I am. Come talk to me and let me know your thoughts or your theories because THIS ONE is gonna be a wild ride. 

tag list: @stepping-into-the-light @thurhomish @afterstylesmadeit @iconicharry @stylesfics-xx @harryspirate @mellamolayla @harryinsweatersandbandanas @stylesfantasy @clorenafila

[shinymooncolor]

I love your sw chats! If you need prompts: something centered around Remus!

Thank you - I’m sorry in advance. This turned a little angsty. But we get happy again. Remus to the rescue - this team would not survive without him.

Characters and universe by @lumosinlove ❤️

My ever shining and supportive ra(e)s of sunshine @wxlfstxrx and @siriuslyqueer. This one is for you guysss.

Sweater weather chat #6

Kuny is hurt. Nado is scared. Kasey and Sergei plans a murder. Sirius is angry. Walker makes a burrito blanket. Remus is the best. Kris is a mom. Remus calls Nado Jackie. He’s the only one allowed to do that. Crouch Jr. is Russian (sue me). We all hate the 🐍

Wednesday 1.22 pm

Eliascookie: why are Nado and Kuny yelling again? They’ve been fighting all day.

Timmyforrealz: they’ve been arguing for TWO days about who’d be the wife in their weird bromance. Also - They’re both totally the wife. It’s weird.. 🤨🤨

Ollibear: well apparently some shop clerk thought they were a couple and nado is mortally offended that Kuny said they weren’t

Nadotheman: IT WAS THE WAY HE SAID IT. Like he wouldn’t be the luckiest fucker alive to land me.

KrisVolley: but you are both into women?

Nadotheman: I know. Still offensive to know you’re not your best mates first pick.

Blizzard: Well we all know that eventually, Kuny is going to marry some Russian model and nado is their live-in, grown-ass man child 😏

Prongstar: He’s probably going on the honeymoon too. It’s weird

Siriusly: are you ladies reaDy to get back home and have your pre game naps... We have a game tonight and I want to beat those snakes

Sergei_81: 💪🏻🤛🏼🦷😡

Blizzard: aye aye captain 😴🥱

RussianGod: hehe we kick ass today!!!

Prongstar: whoooop!!! Let’s end the snakes 🐍

Dumodad: go sleep my babies. We need to be on tonight.

—

Wednesday 8.33 pm

7 missed calls from Nado

Nado: Remus where are you? Can I come to the hospital

Nado: Remus please can I talk to him?

Nado: Remussss

Nado: Is he ok?

Nado: He was down re, for a long time.

Wednesday 9.02 pm

Remus: hey Jackie, he’s okay. It’s not a concussion. Please stop calling - I promise to keep you updated. They might let him come home tonight. He’ll be okay. Are you home? Is someone with you?

Nado: remus he was on the ice for a long time. Are you sure he’s okey? Why can’t I see him he needs me. He’s scared of needles and I know his ab negative!! Do they even have the right blood? I’m ab too I can help! Is someone talking to him? When they do the needle stuff just rub between his shoulders that calms him down and if he’s scared call him zhenya. That’s his Russian baby name!! It calms him. Remus please fix him.

Remus: these are some of the best sports doctors in the world, they know what they’re doing and they’re taking good care of Evgeni. Sergei is here, and he’s explaining everything to him in Russian ok? I’ll keep you updated! But I need to know if you’re alone? I think you should not be. Please take care of yourself ok?

——

Wednesday 9.13 pm

Kris: hey remus, I’m here. Nado is really freaking out. I drove him home but Olli and walker had to help me wrestle him into the car and into his house. Timmy is making us some food and Olli and Cap are trying to keep him from pulling out his hair. Is Kuny alright?

Remus: keep an eye on his hands, one of his ticks is scratching at his palms. They’ve scanned twice and it’s not a concussion. He’s got stitches both on his eyebrow and on his neck and he’s got to be out for a few days. I still don’t understand how he skated off. Tell Sirius to use his captain voice if needed.

Kris: yeah I’ve wrapped his hand up, they froze his knuckles at the rink but he’s kept fiddling with it. Walker rolled him into a burrito blanket and he’s quieted down a bit. But he’s not okay. Do you think Kuny can come home tonight?

Remus: I have to wait and hear, they said it’s depending on his x-ray - if it’s just a sprain in his hand he can come home so we’re just waiting. I’m glad no one here but Sergei understands Russian. I don’t think it’s very nice what he’s sayin.

Kris: fuck man. It was a bad hit. We’re rewatching. He was nowhere near the puck. Crouch and Nott fucking just came at him on purpose and if they don’t get a disciplinary I’m quitting the league. Cap crushed the remote... dirty snakes

Remus: I saw. It was a bad hit. I tried to get him on a stretcher but he insisted.

Wednesday 9.20 pm

Nado: he didn’t recognize me re... after he went down. He just looked at me and didn’t recognize me and I heard his head connect. His helmet was off before Nott threw him. How is he supposed to fight back when crouch swiped his leg?

Remus: I know. But even “just” hitting your head can cause some confusion and I promise you they scanned three times and he’s not got any concussion or bleeding. He’s tough ok? He’s asking if he can go home. Not very nicely might I add. And he flirted with a nurse. He’ll be ok.

Nado: but I heard it crunch. He was bleeding a lot. Is she cute?

Remus: I know, face cuts bleed a lot but he’s got quite a few stitches and he did well. He even got a lollipop and I’m pretty sure at least one phone number. Also Tall blonde with a nice smile.

Nado: is he coming home? Leave the nurse

Remus: I’ll let you know ok? Try and sleep! You’ll need it.

Wednesday 9.25 pm

Remus: hey kris. It sounds like they’re letting him come home. Sergei is going to drive us. Did you get Nado to go to bed? Also, I can stay over night. I think they both need a babysitter

Kris: I think we’re staying. Ava is with Anya and the kids and Olli is already crashed on the couch. Walker actually had to threaten Nado to stay in bed and he’s camped up next to him now. He’s not going anywhere. Timmy and I will crash in the guest room. Can Kuny sleep alone?

Remus: he’s on a lot of painkillers and he’s not entirely coherent. Sergei offered to stay with him to translate but I honestly think his English will come back once he’s slept and recovered a bit

Kris: their beds are like extra king size anyways. We can just make a sleep over in nado’s room. He’s gone and pulled down every blind and the house is dark. I’ve never seen him this stressed out.

Remus: yeha that might be best. Sergei says Kuny is asking for his brother. So I think it’s best for everyone. We’re leaving once Kuny gets his stuff back.

Wednesday 9.55 pm

Sirius <3: is he okay love? I drove here / do you need to stay or come home?

Remus ❤️: hey! He’ll be fine, not a concussion but he still hit his head prettt bad. I think they’ve set up a sleepover and he’s in good hands. I’ll be okay to go home.

Sirius <3: it was such a dirty hit. He was down for a long time. And that Pussy ref didn’t even call a major.

Remus ❤️: coach said he’s contesting it and demanding an inquiry. But it was bad. I wanted to punch his face in. Did you see crouch after? He was laughing.

Sirius <3: I know. I’ve never seen blizzard react like that. He actually tore Nott’s Jersey with his hands.

Remus ❤️: I know, let’s get Kuny to bed and we can go home. I need cuddles.

Sirius <3: me too. Re. Me too. It hurts every time. We would not function without you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wednesday 10.33 pm

Siriusly: boys, Kuny is home. It’s not a concussion. He’s got a bad hit and stitches and he’s out for three days and a new scan. But he’s back home and sleeping now. I’m not sure how Walker or Nado can sleep with his snores. But he’s ok.

Prongstar: they made a sandwich?

Siriusly: I think kris called it a sleepover but yeah. I don’t think Nado would able to sleep otherwise and Kuny kept trashing until someone was on either side of him. It’s cute. I’ve got pictures.

Blizzard: open fucking season on Nott. Why the fuck did you pull me off @eliascookie? I wanted to punch his fucking disgusting face in. He deserved it!!! Kuny’s helmet was offf before they swiped his legs

DumoDad: kasey, you were right to fight him and he was over the line. But getting you suspended won’t help. We need to beat them through our game

Timmyforrealz: but it was a bullshit call?! I agree to open season on Nott and crouch. Fuck it all of those creeps. They could’ve ended his career ffs

Sunnysideup: I haven’t had a line brawl like that in years. Broke carrow’s nose. Felt good. I’m glad Kuny is ok.

Prongstar: I heard his head hit the ice. It was terrifying.

Bradygunz: how’s Nado handling this? I had to sit on him to hold him back from going after the ref.

KrisVolley: he’s asleep, I think. But it was a long evening. I know they’re not actually related but I swear they’re brothers somehow still.

Sergei_81: I want to kill crouch. He’s hurting on purpose

Sunnysideup: @sergei_81 did he actually say that or did I hear it wrong?

Sergei_81: he did. It was revenge

Siriusly: what??

Sergei_81: crouch was take off Olympic team for too much fight. Kuny got his a and this was revenge. He said so. He want Kuny out on purpose. He not like younger player get a.

Wednesday 10.55 pm

Remus: hi sergei, did you call Kuny’s parents? Did you get home okay?

Sergei: yes I call them. Tell what happneed. And I stay at house. Kuny needs me if he speak. I’m worried about Nado. He thinks his fault. He only pretend to sleep. Can u talk to him?

Remus: I’ll try. Thanks Sergei!

Wednesday 11.33 pm

Remus: hey Jackie, I know you’re not sleeping. I don’t want to call and disturb you but you can always talk to me, ok? It’s confidential as always and I’ve got your back alright. What happened today was not your fault.

Nado: I should’ve been out there with him. I could’ve helped him. Instead I was off somewhere in the other end he’s my line buddy and i failed him.

Remus: Nado you didn’t fail him. Did you see what sergei said? It was a planned hit. They wanted to take him out. It’s not your fault. Please promise me that you understand it’s not your fault.

Nado: he just looked at me. What if he doesn’t recognize me when he wakes up. Re he’s my best friend and I watched his head get smashed on the ice.

Remus: I know it’s hard. And it’s heartbreaking. But the doctor’s checked him ok? He asked for you - or well according to sergei he demanded to be sent home to his brother and cat. Alright, he knows you. Just let his head rest and recover and then you’ll be back to your antics in no time.

Nado: he’s snoring now. Guess something never changes.

Remus: get some sleep and tomorrow I’m gonna have a look at your hands ok?

Nado: thanks rem. Not sure what we’d do without you. ❤️

Remus: always, Jackie. You guys are my family as much as my actual family!

Nado: still gonna kill crouch and Nott. Not care about getting suspension.

Remus: I get it. I think you should see heather tomorrow.

Nado: can I just talk to you?

Remus: yeah, call me when you wake up ok? I don’t care how early. I’m not a professional though, Jackie.

—-

Thursday 8.22 am

Nado; he’s awake. Re. He remembers me. Thanks for fixing my best friend.

Remus: I’m glad to hear it, I’m coming over to check him ok? I’ll bring breakfast.

———-