#in every universe these girls are just the BEST at playing games where everyone loses

[mayasaura]

ms. maya, you have good opinions & ive been chewing on this question for a while: what do you think rd!gideon would do if cav!harrow died for her? im not so sure that she'd go down the lobotomy route, but i do think shed do something equally insane

bruh. I don't even know. I agree, she'd come up with her own bull-headed solution. Her mind doesn't twist into labyrinths like Harrow's. Building a construct out of her own skull to enforce a self-administered lobotomy was a uniquely Nonagesimus kind of solution.

Harrow Nova absolutely would sacrifice herself for Gideon. She'd do it gladly, if she thought it would save her necromancer's life. She might do it believing this was the reason the universe had suffered her to exist at all; so she could use her ill-gotten life to fuel Gideon's ascension. And Gideon would.....

It depends on the situation, but I think Gideon might say no. To all of it. She would refuse to elevate herself at Harrow's expense, to derive further privilege from Harrow's suffering. She'd find some way to keep Harrow without consuming her at all, and not become a lyctor. Trap Harrow's soul and stuff it in a jar. Hold onto the pieces of her until she can figure out how to fix them and put them back together.

That is, of course, assuming she'd be able to survive without becoming a lyctor. Which I am assuming because the thing Gideon knows, and Harrow mercifully doesn't, is that Cytherea didn't intend to kill Gideon. She says as much before Harrow gets there, right after Palamedes went off.

If she had to take a nibble to survive, and started the process? Fuck, man. She'd wish really, really, hard? We don't know, it might work. Pyrrha survived without any elective surgery, and our Gideon is very very good at not looking into the parts of her brain she doesn't want to see, and not thinking about things she isn't ready to understand. She might end up exactly like the Gideon before her, blacking out and losing time and having no idea why because her secretive bodymate elected not to enlighten her as to her continued existence.

Or, and this is a fun one, she might go 'welp, can't eat her if I'm not here!' and put herself into a coma. My favourite scenario for this is that it yeets her soul right out of her body and into the River before she's even been taught how to do that, and Harrow is left behind in her body to be a broken lyctor who can't necromancy. The more things change...

[chaoticreivingu]

Compare & Contrast: Pip Pirrup & Butters Stotch

There’s a story that’s been spread around the South Park fandom for a very long time, in which it’s argued that due to Pip’s unpopularity among the audience and creators alike, Butters replaced Pip and his role in the show. But did he really take over his role or is this just one fanon game of telephone?

Pip’s role, ever since the beginning of the show, was to be severely abused and hated by everyone, adults and strangers alike. He’s well-spoken and emotionally mature for his age, but at the same time too awkward to even be seen in public with, and whenever he speaks his “punchable” personality is enough to cause a scene. His submissiveness and passive ways aren’t seen as endearing, and seemingly every aspect of him, from his mismatched clothes to his voice was designed to induce a cringeworthy reaction from the cast. His only usefulness is that everybody can take his anger out on him however they want with no consequences at all. No adult cares about him and he’s an orphan, so he can’t snitch to anyone.

Butters on the other hand, isn’t universally hated. Sure he’s seen as lame by the rest, but Kyle likes him enough to invite him to Casa Bonita and even in Awesome-O Cartman was the only one dead set on pranking him.

That’s not to say he’s not bullied at all during this era, he did start out as a Melvin at first and does get picked on a lot in seasons 3-7, but he’s not as low on the social ladder as Pip is, since he practically has his own level at the bottom of the barrel.

An example of this is in Two Guys Naked in a Hot Tub, where Stan, Dougie and Butters all visibly interact with the media and police in some way, but Pip is delegated to doing behind the scenes work, once again highlighting how much of a stigma everyone has around him, that even around others like himself, it’s best to not have him talk or else the plan might backfire from the possible awkwardness that might ensue.

Even if he was called a “Melvin” by Stan, it’s clear that his bullying is never as severe as Pip’s. While Pip’s abuse relies on social isolation, physical beatings, humiliation and life risking situations, Butters’ bullying is more about manipulating, drifting, pranking and taking advantage of his gullibility to make him go along with a plan, even if he’s initially cautious about it.

To put it into perspective, the first time Butters bled was 5 seasons after his debut. The first time Pip bled was in his first appearance.

These scenes almost serve as parallels to each other to highlight how different these two are in terms of their roles, personality and how the rest view them.

In the former, the main 4 convince Pip to go down the slide, he cracks his head open and bleeds profusely. They proceed to laugh at him and even tell him to do it again to get hurt more for their entertainment while Pip runs to the nurse’s office.

In the latter, Butters convinces the main 4 to play with him, Kenny accidentally throws a ninja star into his eye and he bleeds profusely. They instantly stop their playtime to check on Butters’ wellbeing while Butters pleads to go to the hospital.

It’s clear from this how unaccustomed Butters is to such an injury and how much the main 4 value Butters as a person and friend, even if they don’t want to admit it. On the flipside it’s evident that Pip is seen as nothing more than entertainment for the boys and how much he’s used to being treated this way since he barely reacts to the injury.

Other scenes that serve to differentiate the two is in Hooked on Monkey Phonics and Cartman’s Silly Hate Crime. Both Butters and Pip are featured in the episodes, and in the latter act like a matching set but react differently, like at the thought of the boys losing the match against the girls(Butters’ focuses on losing to women while Pip’s is a more general statement).

In both episodes Pip is given the usual physical abuse treatment even when he imitates the others to fit in or tries standing up for himself, while Butters isn’t mocked at all and is more antagonistic, strapping Mark to a bench and calling Clyde the second fattest kid. Unlike Pip, Butters rotates from being bullied to doing the bullying since that’s how South Park Elementary School’s society functions.

For the last scene to compare and contrast, in Professor Chaos Butters and Pip are both featured and devalued by the boys.

Butters’ scene is set in the privacy of Cartman’s room, nobody else is there except for the Stan,Kyle, Cartman and Butters. The Scamps fire Butters for being too lame, but still apologize for things going this way as Butters sadly leaves, with the punchline being his outlandish reaction afterwards.

Pip’s scene is set publicly, in Denver no less. While it already starts awkwardly by Pip clapping instead of cheering like the rest, it’s when he asks for tea at a baseball game that all eyes lock on to him in anger or shock. After Pip doubles down asking for crumpets Cartman angrily tells him to go away with some people still looking at him, while he leaves in confusion at what he did wrong. Coincidentally, immediately after Pip leaves, Butters shows up to hijack the game.

In all these examples, Butters and Pip both act and react in separate ways and even in bullying scenes the punchlines aren’t the same. By late season 8 Butters starts to grow more and more to the point that by season 14 the nerdiness is just a quirk that’s slowly fading, while Pip gets his last appearance by being Barbra Streisand’s punching bag and dying in the process.

So if Pip is superficially similar but inwardly different than Butters, why did Trey and Matt stop using him? Simple, they just got bored of him like they did with Dr. Mephesto and Mrs. Crabtree.

In the creator commentary for Two Guys Naked in a Hot tub they say they enjoy writing Butters more but that’s understandable, one is an original character they created while the other is a direct parody that’s more creatively limited, not due to being “empty” but his lack of parents and inability to make fun of others limit a lot of potential that could be done in later South Park episodes that focus more on the parents or aren’t afraid of making characters mean spirited for the sake of the plot.

As a bonus, here's some minor details that are worth mentioning:

While they’re both blond, geeky and voiced by Matt Stone, Pip and Butters’ jackets are dark red and turquoise respectively, which are direct opposites on the color wheel.

Their hairstyles also indicate their different personality traits as Pip’s long and straight hair emphasizes his lameness and softness compared to the rest while Butters’ short and spiky hair indicates he has more of a backbone compared to his fellow Melvin.

Finally, while(in earlier seasons) Butters’ accent is stereotypically southern and his speech is drawn out, Pip’s accent is stereotypically British and his speech is concise.

[imaginmatrix]

college sports au where annabeth is a star soccer player for nyu who’s dream is to eventually make the women’s soccer team and percy is the assistant coach.

I cannot believe you are making me, a person who understands all of 0 sports and played soccer when I was 8, try to write like I know anything about how any of this works. How dare you. Here you go.

I’m so mad at you.

A crooked smile should not incite such fury as what Annabeth currently felt.

But for the record, it shouldn’t make her heart flutter the way it did, either.

Both at the same time was just confusing.

“What did you just say?!” She hissed under her breath, glancing anxiously out the dark tunnel where her team waited to sprint onto the horrifically wet field— it had been raining since the night before, and Annabeth was already dreading the mud and the cold.

Well, now she would happily take that over Percy Jackson’s stupid dumb annoying crooked smile.

“I asked,” he spoke slowly, his voice patient as if he were explaining a basic concept to a child, “if you would like a kiss for luck?”

Annabeth sputtered, glancing again to ensure the rest of the team wasn’t paying attention— they were not.

Though that may have been because their star striker getting royally pissed at the NYU Violet’s assistant coach was not a novel scene.

“This—you—hitting on players is creepy!” She snapped, face red and only growing brighter as Percy leaned in to speak low in her ear.

“But hitting on girlfriends, even secret ones, isn’t.” He paused. “…Unless I missed the memo.”

Annabeth huffed, tugging on the hem of her jersey as nerves about the upcoming game were replaced with nerves about the stupid man in front of her referring to her as his girlfriend.

It was a new development, and one that made her feel insane to think about for more than ten seconds at a time.

“So…?” Her boyfriend (boyfriend?!) pulled back just enough that she could see his stupid terrible grin, “What do you say?”

The poor hem of Annabeth’s jersey was now a bunched up mess in her hands, twisting in her fists without her even noticing. “If we win—“

“When.”

“If!” She heaved a breath, “Then maybe I will think about giving you a celebratory kiss. But we’re going to lose, so it doesn’t matter.”

Percy’s grin didn’t waver, “No, we’re not. We’ve been over their weaknesses, know their plays— and everyone is gonna be playing their best with the club scout out in the stands.”

Annabeth groaned, “Don’t remind me!”

“Not to mention, the best center forward on this side of the continental US.”

“The best center forward in the world.” She muttered, though there was doubt in her voice, her usual confidence shaken by the fact that the opposing team had won every game against the Violets for the past 3 years.

“‘Atta girl.” Percy knocked his forehead to hers, their eyes meeting, “Give them hell. Especially so I can get that kiss.”

He dodged out of the way of Annabeth’s fist, laughing as he jogged through the tunnel to the sidelines to join their coach. Annabeth forced a deep breath, and turned to the team to give a pep talk that would rival any pre-battle hype speech in the history of the universe.

And when they won, covered in mud, 2 to 1, Annabeth Chase, center forward, star player, flashed a grin at Percy Jackson, assistant coach, new boyfriend, the promise in her eyes meeting the excitement in his. Who knew when they’d tell people— but while Annabeth was happy to share this and any future wins with the rest of the world, Percy?

Well, for now, he was all hers.

And their kiss behind the shuttle to the team’s hotel was nearly as satisfying as the business card with the pro club scout’s number in her hand.

[crescent14]

Double Date

This chapter marks the end of their perfect summer. Thanks for your support in my journey so far.

AO3

It was the last day of summer. Two months did fly by, but the best part was that Adrien finally made memories worth keeping in those 60 days, all of them centered around a particular dark-haired girl with the brightest cerulean blue eyes in the universe. It was tradition for there to be a carnival at the Tuileries, where they would spend the day.

Technically they all wanted to go to the fair and had made plans for 2 months to do so, but since they were going as their regular group of 4, Alya took the opportunity to call it a 'double date', which he wasn't going to argue- any opportunity to go on a date with Marinette was treasurable for him.

Granted, it wasn't their first double date, but it was never going to get old for any of them. Adrien always knew Marinette liked to win, but he didn't know how competitive she could be. Of course, he learnt that on their first double date to the arcade, but there was a different level of fighting spirit when it came to trying to beat Nino at random carnival games- at least it seemed random.

As it turns out, Nino and Marinette had been coming to the fair every year since their first summer together in elementary school. This meant that coming here today was part of a long tradition they developed together, and decided to let Alya and Adrien tag along- left to watch the two lose it at the ring toss. The bet was that whoever won the most games would buy dessert before they went to the Ferris wheel to wrap up the day.

Originally, it was just Marinette against Nino, but with couples and best friends in the mix, the whole thing just seemed a little childish and weird. No one wanted to step on any toes, and their little bet sounded like a lot of fun to not want to join in.

That morning at Marinette's: They were all gathered at the bakery for breakfast before heading to the fair, Marinette and Nino's excitement bordering fury as they gave each other the stink eye across the table.

"What is wrong with the two of you?", Alya inquired, trying to undercut some of the awkwardness the silence had created, "You look like you are mad at each other about something. Did you two fight?". It was a reasonable guess with the tension between them.

"No", Marinette answered, "We have a bet that's been going on since grade school. We get competitive over carnival games, and Nino is just mad I beat him last year."

Her response raised more questions than answers, and Adrien was too much of a cat to let curiosity get the better of him, "You say that as if you go there every year."

"We do", Nino responded simply, breaking eye contact with Mari when they both burst out laughing. "We just like to win, so competition can get a little ugly, but at the end of the day, it becomes a great memory regardless of the outcome."

Marinette just gave a sweet smile and nodded, thinking back to all the fun they had together. "Besides, it will be more fun with the 2 of you here, we can now add more games and play as teams of two. But the original bet still stands- the losing team buys dessert."

"That sounds like fun, how should we divide the groups, couples, or girls vs. boys?", Alya joined in with a big grin of her own.

The decision took half an hour longer than it should have, the main concern being that both Adrien and Alya wanted to be on Marinette's team- what with her being the reigning champion.

The last thing Sabine expected to see when she walked into her apartment was her daughter in the middle of her boyfriend and best friend, who threatened to dislocate her arms with how they were playing tug of war. Nino was at the table, upset that his friends wanted nothing to do with him, but having fun watching the scene unfold in front of him. His humour broke loose first when everyone paused as statues on Sabine's arrival. Sabine, however, smiled at them, before walking over to the fridge and grabbing a jug of lemonade before going back down to the bakery.

Before closing the door behind her, she stopped to look at the kids above her shoulder, "If you are having trouble making a decision, you could always flip a coin.", she said in a calm tone before retreating.

They were too shocked to say anything. Until Adrien finally found his composure to pull out a cent and ask, "What do we assign it to?"

"How about 'heads is couples' and 'tails is best friends'?", Marinette asked, looking at the coin in his outstretched palm. Everyone else nodded to the suggestion, and Adrien tossed the coin, silently praying for a chance to team up with Marinette.

The coin clattered on the table and the four teens looked down over it to see the result, much to his dismay- Tails.

Present: That's how Adrien found himself against Alya at the basketball booth, winning by one basket. With Marinette and Nino's ongoing friendly rivalry, it made sense for them to go against each other, which left the newcomers to compete. Alya's missed basket meant that the boys won that round, making them tied, each team having won 5 games each by now. The last event was go-karting, a team sport for fair play- the first team to get all cars across the finish line wins.

Adrien was the first to reach the finish line out of the four, followed shortly by Marinette who kept yelling "You are a dead man Agreste", from behind him as she tried her level best to catch up making him howl with laughter. The boys would have won if Nino hadn't miscalculated the turn and ended up with a wall of tires crashing down on him.

After sobering up from their laughter and victory, the girls approached the boys, Adrien having helped their friend out of the rubber pile with the help of the supervisor of the track.

"WE WON!", Alya mocked the boys, "You know what that means.", she sing-songed as they made their way over to the line of food stalls. The sun was beginning to set and they settled on ice cream, which they could enjoy inside the Ferris wheel before calling an end to the fun-filled day.

"Can't believe we start high school tomorrow.", Alay groaned, taking a bite of her ice cream as she and Marinette waited for the boys to pay. They somehow managed to find Andre and decided to indulge in some of his legendary couple's ice cream.

Adrien walked over to Marinette with their cone, already having taken a few bites. Despite it being a double date, they decided to pair off in separate cars for the Ferris wheel, which Adrien wouldn't object to. Honestly, he loved his friends- adored them- but he wanted to spend some alone time with Marinette before high school made them so busy they wouldn't get the chance to hang out as often as they could.

"Adrien?", her sweet voice pulled him out of his thoughts as he looked down at her. When had they entered the Ferris wheel? His feet must have moved on autopilot when he zoned out. "Is everything alright?", Marinette asked, this time furrowing her brows.

He gave her a gentle smile and took her hand that wasn't holding the ice cream in his own, "Everything is great. Just thinking about high school.", he broke his eye contact at that moment, only turning back up at her when he felt a little pressure on his hand- she had squeezed it. "I promise we will help you find your hidden passion. You still have time to decide what you want to do, Adrien, and you're not alone.". A slight blush pinked her cheeks as she looked down at their joined hands, "You have a supportive family, friends, me.", she peered at him through her lashes and Adrien felt his heart summersault in his chest.

It took a lot to regain his composure enough to speak, but he was sure he was sporting a blush of his own. "I'm just scared we will grow apart once school restarts. I don't know how I will be able to survive now that I spent almost two whole months with you." Marinette couldn't stop her racing heart at his confession, he spoke the exact words that were eating at her insides, "Adrien, I promise we won't grow apart. I have to admit, I had the same fears, but the fact that we are already thinking about this has to account for something, right?"

Their gazes locked, as the fireworks went off outside their cart, but they were in a world of their own. No one knows who initiated the kiss, but it was one full of unspoken promises of love and the future. His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure she could hear it, with how close they were, but he didn't care. With Marinette by his side, nothing was impossible. His future career could wait. For now, he wanted the reassurance that his future was full of love, that's what she gave him.

The four teens walked together to the food stalls for dinner before heading back home, calling an end to the last day of their first summer together.

[newronantic]

HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official 

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

[sukisdeliveryservice]

hello!! could i kindly request for a student campus crush! wonwoo hehe and you’re best friends and have unrequited feelings but u dont know if he feels the same so over a sleepover u tried confessing and you can continue from there hehe -🐼

let me hear you say | j. ww

✎ pairing: best friend!wonwoo x female reader

✎ genre: collegel!au, friends to lovers!au, mostly fluff

✎ warnings: none!

✎ wc: 2.40 k words

✎ notes: hi 🐼 anon! i got a little carried away with this one because soft, cuddly wonwoo makes my stomach do flips but i hope you like it! i'm not sure how i feel about my portrayal of yn here because i wanted them to be really supportive of wonwoo but kind of having a hard time because of their feelings towards him. i hope i was able to express that without portraying them as kind of eh :/

“Don’t you ever get tired?” You take a quick glance at your best friend as he folds up another piece of paper with a phone number written on it.

“Of what?”

“Of everyone in this school falling head over heels for you,” You say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, proceeding to look back down at your notes. In reality, you were trying to prevent yourself from looking at the cute (albeit, confused) way your best friend was staring at you over your abrupt question.

“Well I can’t say I’m not flattered, but there aren’t really that many people yn,”

A total lie, you think to yourself. Every time you two walked around campus, your best friend attracted the adoring stares of all your classmates like some hotshot celebrity. Yes, he was popular, and yes, he totally deserved it, but if everyone knew how dorky he was, maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to hand him their number after a single conversation.

Another lie, if everyone knew what a nerd Jeon Wonwoo actually was, they’d probably fall for him harder. You would know of course, first hand experience taught you a lot of things.

It taught you how endearing it was when Wonwoo wore oversized clothing, so that he could pull the sleeves over his palms when sipping on a hot drink at the local campus cafe. It made you realize his habit of pushing his glasses up his nose, because he was too stubborn to get the bridge adjusted. It made your insides melt whenever he was nervous because he had a habit of fiddling with his fingers. You were certain that if anyone was completely head over heels and absolutely smitten by him, it was definitely you.

“Not many people my ass,” you scoffed, “you spoke to her once, just once! And now you are holding her number.” Wonwoo laughs at your poor attempt at hiding your annoyance, “For your information, we were talking about a group project, and exchanging contact information. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

You gave a little huff before going back to pretend-studying, you definitely couldn’t focus when he was sitting right across from you. You knew you were more prone to jumping to conclusions nowadays, and you hoped that Wonwoo didn’t notice your shift in behaviour. In reality, you couldn’t help but feel a little pang of worry whenever your best friend was asked out on another date. And while he rejected the offer every time, you worried that one day he might say yes and you could lose him forever.

Not that you were against Wonwoo falling in love someday. If he found a good person that he wanted to be with for the rest of his life, you would support him in a heartbeat. It was just the selfish feeling that blossomed in your chest that prevented you from feeling any true happiness for these kinds of situations, and you hated it.

You knew that he would never abandon you completely, because Wonwoo was the best friend you could ever ask for. But you also knew that it would kill you inside to see him sweep someone else off their feet.

You’ve known Wonwoo since high school, and you definitely harboured a puppy crush on him all of first year. This was back when he was still trading pokemon cards in the gym stairwell and poking at you to buy him something from the milk vending machine. The crush went away eventually and you found yourself enjoying the rest of your high school career with your closest confidant by your side.

Once you both entered university, Wonwoo had a sudden growth spurt that now put him a total head taller than you. He no longer lurked at the stairwells during lunch and instead made lots of new friends that he went out for coffee with. He started dressing nicer, and once he exchanged his old glasses for a pair of round silver ones that rested on his nose so perfectly, he instantly transformed into someone straight out of a kdrama.

Now, you have caught feelings again. And you’re scared to admit that this time a puppy crush doesn’t even encapsulate everything you’ve been feeling lately. Of course Wonwoo’s sudden change in appearance didn’t spark anything new in your feelings towards him. It was the fact that he had a new air around him that was just completely different.

Wonwoo in high school was shy, and you loved him for who he was. You two had your own small circle of friends and you would spend all your time reading or playing games in his bedroom. Wonwoo in college however, was breaking out of his shell and being the first to approach people and make new friends. He was still introverted of course, shyness and introvertedness were two different things after all. But you were proud to see Wonwoo take the initiative to make plans more often and reach out.

Wonwoo has also gotten a lot more comfortable around you. He’s grown fond of resting his head on your shoulder after a long day of classes, and wrapping you in his sweaters whenever you came by his flat. In conclusion, everything about university student Wonwoo, was driving you, (and probably the entire campus) crazy.

“Hello? yn? Don’t you have a class soon?”

You swat away the hand that was waving in front of your face to meet the eyes of the cause of all your heart troubles. One smile from Wonwoo and you were in shambles. You had it really, really bad. “Right, right, sorry I was just...distracted.”

“We’re still on for tonight right? You can just head straight to my dorm after your last class.”

“Of course Won, did you really think I was going to miss out on another rewatch of Extraordinary You?”

“Of course not,” Wonwoo chuckled. You were met with another one of those soft gazes from him, and you immediately tried to break your stare. Something in your heart tells you that you should just confess right now, and that Wonwoo was a sensible individual who wouldn’t let go of your friendship if he didn’t feel the same way.

“Hey Won, can I tell you something after class later?”

“Of course.” There was that smile again. If you weren’t so busy trying to slow your heart rate down, you would have caught the way his eyes brightened at hearing your question, and the way he looked down to twindle with his fingers.

You give Wonwoo your own smile before heading off to your last detour of the day.

Sleepovers with Wonwoo always consisted of a mountain of blankets, a never ending pile of snacks and a show to watch before eventually both of you fell asleep. When you arrived at his flat just as he was adding the finishing touches to a home cooked dinner, you realized that sleepovers with Wonwoo also consisted of another thing: Your tragic inability to keep your heart rate down.

“Dinner will be ready in a bit, you can just wash up and get changed for now,” Wonwoo turns to greet you before adding some pepper to the tteokbokki.

You nod and head over to his bathroom, where you already find your change of clothes resting on the counter. Any outsider would have been under the impression that you and Wonwoo lived together, considering that pieces of you were scattered all over his apartment. From the matching toothbrushes that were kept by the sink, to the drawer reserved only for your clothes in his bedroom.

The only reason that you and Wonwoo didn’t room together upon entering university, was the fact that your parents were wary of you rooming with a boy you weren’t even dating. Not that it mattered now, considering that you at least spent two nights at his place away from your own dorm.

After you showered and changed into your pajamas, you realized that Wonwoo had given you one of his sweaters to wear, instead of the usual shirts you slept in. Usually you would have raided his bedroom after dinner to steal one (you slept much better when you wore his clothing) but this time it appeared that he had taken the initiative for you.

Once you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw that Wonwoo was already sitting at the dining table and was on his phone. It looked like he was texting someone, and you felt your heart sink a little when he laughed at a message. No, you are not going to be jealous. You are going to be happy for your friend because he deserves all the happiness in the world.

“Is that the girl from your group project?” You sat down across from him and started piling the tteokbokki and rice onto your plate. “Yeah, she said that the professor just sent out a mass email to our class, saying that we were going to be given an extension. Turns out that email was meant for another course, but everyone is already celebrating the new deadline.”

Wonwoo shuts off his phone and turns to you, “Was there something you wanted to tell me today?”

Right. You were going to confess your feelings. It was now or never, and you weren’t sure if you could hold it in much longer. “I can just tell you after dinner, I’m starving.”

Tragic. Tragic. Tragic. Why couldn’t you just say the words, “Hey Won, I have feelings for you, do you feel the same way?” Must you be in a spiraling paradox of questioning the presence of unrequited love in the relationship you had with your best friend? Yes, most definitely yes. Since the world likes to make everything difficult for those in love.

Dinner was eaten in a comfortable silence for the most part. You liked that you never felt the need to fill the air with more conversation whenever you were with Wonwoo. There were days where you would just sit in each other’s presence and do your own thing, and those days left you with lots of time to ponder on your feelings for him. Tonight was the night that you were going to say these feelings aloud for the first time...you just needed a bit more time to procrastinate.

After you both finished your food, you relocated yourselves to the couch. You fidgeted with the end of your (his) sweater while Wonwoo searched for the show on Netflix. You figured that you would let him know in the morning, since there was a chance that you two would fall asleep before the episode ended. And you didn’t want to confess beforehand either, in fear of having to endure a brutal one hour of awkward tension if he didn’t feel the same way.

“Who would have thought that out of all the days the wifi could have chosen to bail on us, they chose the day where we were going to find out whether Haru belonged to Dan-oh’s story or not,” Wonwoo fiddles with the remote some more, while you panic in silence at the thought of spending the night with no distractions from your feelings.

“It’s not like we don’t already know how it ends,” You take deep quiet breaths to calm yourself down, you can definitely make it through the night, “We can just do other things.”

“What do you have in mind?”

You couldn’t answer him right away. The only thing you had on your mind was the fact that Wonwoo’s hand was now resting on your knee and that it was baffling how good he could look in pajamas. Wonwoo, sensing your inability to form words nervously glanced up at you before moving the conversation in a different direction, “Look, I know you had something to tell me today yn, but I realized that I wanted to share something with you too. I am in love-”

“I am in love with you Jeon Wonwoo!”

There. You blurted out a long-awaited confession before the anticipation consumed you whole. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from your hands in fear of seeing the look on Wonwoo’s face.

“Let me hear you say it again.”

“What?” You turn to Wonwoo, who no longer looked nervous. Instead, he wore the biggest shit-eating grin on his face that made you want to both kiss and strangle him. “Say it again.”

“Not when you look like you just won the lottery you nerd, you didn’t even say-”

“I am in love with you too yn.”

Well, you were never one to complain about the fact that your feelings were returned. But the way Wonwoo was cooing at your adorable expression of shock only made you want to shove him off the couch.

Which you proceeded to do.

“Hey! Aren’t you happy that I like you too?”

“Of course I’m happy! You didn’t have to try to beat me to my confession though, tonight was going to be my night!”

“You didn’t seem like you were going to say anything for the rest of the evening! You were going to wait until the next day weren’t you?”

Absolutely yes. “No!”

Any remaining tension in the atmosphere washed away as you and Wonwoo made fun of each other on the living room floor. You were beyond relieved and a little giddy that your best friend in the whole wide world saw you in the way that you saw him.

“But on a more serious note Won, were you also going to confess tonight too?”

“Actually no, but once you came out of the washroom wearing my sweater, I just had to say it before I tackled you with cuddles or something.”

“You gave me your sweater instead of my clothes to wear!”

“I know!” Wonwoo was holding your hand now and rubbing circles into your palm. The idea of cuddling the entire night didn’t sound so bad. “But you looked all nervous and shy and I was hoping that you were going to be the one to say something first.”

“Can we just agree that we confessed at the same time?” As the adrenaline from the confession began to slip away you suddenly became very tired, and you were hoping to just spend the night in the arms of your favourite person.

“Deal. So can we cuddle now?”

[supercorpkid]

Stronger together.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Alex Danvers x Niece!Reader

Word count: 2410.

“Starting today, Superkid doesn’t exist anymore.”

The look you get from everyone is of absolute horror. Like you just told them you decided to become a supervillain and you’re going to destroy planet Earth in thirty seconds.

Funny enough, that’s the amount of time it takes for one of them to be able to say something.

“Wait a second.” Aunt Alex is the first one to react. “You’re telling me that the best superhero in National City is quitting? No offense, Kara.”

“None taken, I agree!” Kara jumps right after. “I thought you loved supering?”

“Yeah…” You shrug. “But I love my life a little bit more, so-”

“Baby, shouldn’t you give more thought to this? We’ll support you no matter what, but this is a huge decision.” Lena adds with a concerned tone. You smile.

“Dear Rao, you guys are turning this into a bigger deal than it is.” You roll your eyes with a reassuring smile. “It’s not like I’ll stop existing. I’ll just be a normal teenage girl from now on. Y’know, like Jamie over here.”

“Yeah, well, but-” It’s not hard, but rendering Kara speechless is always exciting.

“Ok, good talk.” You get out of the living room and Jamie follows you into your room.

“Oh wow.” She throws herself in your bed. “That was so dramatic. Thanks for texting me a heads up, I would be shocked if I had found out like that.”

You smile, dismissing it with your hand. “They’ll get over it. It’s not like I was always a superhero anyway.”

“That’s true!” Jamie agrees with her head for a while. “You did save a bunch of people while you were at it, though.”

You shrug.

“Lena was saved so many times, I wonder if she would still be alive if it weren’t for you.” Jamie adds and you look back at her furrowing your eyebrows.

“Supergirl would have saved her.” You don’t even believe your own words.

“Really? Last time I checked Supergirl was unconscious next to her in the Fortress.”

“Well, I-” You squint your eyes. “Stop it. I know what you’re doing. You want me to quit quitting. Well, it’s not going to work. I won’t quit! Quitting, I mean. I won’t quit quitting.” You growl. “Whatever, just stop it.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not trying to make you quit quitting. Especially because, apparently, you can’t super without almost killing yourself. And I don’t like the feeling of losing you every time.”

“You never actually lost me.”

“Ok, standing beside your bed at the DEO not sure if you’re going to wake up is very close to losing you. I don’t think my brain can make the distinction.” Jamie mumbles and your heart squeezes on your chest. You hug her without saying a word, and she lets out a breath that looks like she was holding it for a while.

“I’m sorry for almost dying several times. I promise that things will be easier now.” You shrug and she agrees with her head.

“At least until the next time your hero complex kicks in.” She jokes and you roll your eyes at her. “But you did save me, so… I don’t know. The idea of you not being a superhero is sort of bittersweet.”

“Yeah.” You sit next to her. “To me too.”

“But we will make do.” She throws her arm around your shoulder, hugging you sideways. “Because we are stronger together.”

“Yes, we are.” You agree with a smile.

It’s late at night when the game downstairs ends and Alex shows up at your door to call Jamie. Before leaving, aunt Alex hugs you tight.

“I’m gonna miss saving the world with you.” Alex says with a smile. “You are much better at that than Kara.”

“HEY!” You hear Kara’s interjection downstairs.

“Stop listening to our private conversation!” Alex yells back at her. She puts her hand on your shoulder. “I’ll step up my game of saving people, in your place.”

“That brings me peace of mind.” You smile, earning a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder.

“I’m here for you. You know that, right? Stronger together.” Aunt Alex asks and you hug her in agreement. “Great. I love you, kiddo. You’re my favorite Luthor-Danvers.”

You both stop talking and wait to hear Kara’s reaction. It doesn’t come.

“I’m shocked she obeyed.” Alex says making her way to the stairs and you wave at her.

“I love you too, aunt Alex.”

“Knock, knock.” You hear on the other side of the door, a little before you go to bed. You smile because Kara is such a dork.

“You know, you can actually knock on the door instead of saying it, right?” You say on the other side and Kara opens the door with the biggest smile on her face.

“HA HA, I didn’t know I had raised such a comedy expert.” She jokes, making her way to where you are on your bed. “How are you, little one?”

“I’m great.” You smile at her, sincerely. You are great. Deciding not to be Superkid just took off the biggest weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders. You feel lighter.

“You know I completely support you.” Kara says, putting one lock of your hair behind your ear. “Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll be by your side.”

“Thanks, momma.” You smile at her. “I support you too, in case you want to quit anything.”

She chuckles. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.” But her expression turns serious after a few seconds. “Being a superhero is-” She sighs, looking for words. You have a bunch to offer her. Exhausting, emotionally draining, insane, traumatic. “Weird.”

“To say the least.”

“Yeah.” Kara lays her head on your lap, looking at you from down there. “It’s weird to describe it because it’s a mix of things. Sometimes-” She smiles looking excited. “It’s the most thrilling feeling in the universe. When you’re up there, wind blowing in your head, and that powerful feeling that you can do and go anywhere. And sometimes you save someone, and oh man!”

“You feel invincible. Like you can take on the world.” You add, and Kara agrees vividly with her head.

“But sometimes, for the lack of a better word, it just straight up sucks.” Kara crinkles her nose, and you smile at how cute she looks. “Sometimes you feel like, yeah you know, I could die for these people because I love them with all my heart.”

“I know that feeling.”

“And they love you so much too! It just feels worthy, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “But sometimes it doesn’t feel like that. It feels the opposite. There were a few times when I was this close to dying, and I kept thinking ‘but why Kara? Why are you leaving everyone you love behind to die for people who don’t even appreciate you?’”

“Why would you?”

“Kid. I-I don’t know.” Kara lets out another chuckle. “You know what it's like. You’re up there, and you know it has to be you because no one else can do what you’re doing. And there’s something inside that just stops us from turning away and letting it all play out how it was supposed to.”

You also know that feeling. That’s how you ended up in outer space in another reality to save people you didn’t even know that well. To save a reality that wasn’t even yours. And you had the chance to turn your back to it, over and over again. Yet, you never took the easy path.

“What I came here to tell you, is that I get it. I get the feeling. I’ve had it a million of times. When I was giving everything to the world, and it kept taking things from me. I thought about giving up so many times it’s ridiculous.” Kara sighs again. You put your hand on her hair, stroking it gently for support. “So, yeah, I understand.”

“But?” You ask with a tiny smile.

“But if you ever want to do it again, I’ll understand and support you too.” She gets up from your lap and kisses your forehead. “And if you ever need to talk to anyone about this superhero stuff, you can always come to me, cause I’m sure I probably felt the same thing once or twice in my life. Ok? We’re stronger together.”

“Ok, momma. Thank you.”

“Momma got you, little one. Always.” She hugs you tight, and you breathe deep, feeling her comfort. “If I’m being honest, I’m sort of excited that I won’t have to go fish you in outer space anymore.”

“Me too.” You chuckle on her chest. “It’s exhausting, almost dying all alone in a pitch-black dark place with no air in your lungs.”

“It sounds like it.” Kara lets go of you and looks at you, adoringly. “I love you so much, you’re my heart.”

“And you’re mine.” You smile, getting another forehead kiss from Kara.

“Ok, go to bed. It’s late.” She moves to the door but stays there watching you for a little bit. “You’re the best kid in the universe, and we’re so lucky to have you.”

“Thanks momma.” You smile, thankful. It’s good to hear that. In normal circumstances this would make you happy. But where you find yourself right now, it’s even better. It’s good to be reassured that you’re understood, and you’re loved no matter what, and that even though you just gave up being a superhero you’re still the best kid for her. Rao, you love Kara so much.

“Hey.” You hear a soft knock on the door. You don’t use your x-ray vision. You don’t have to. Kara just left so it’s obviously not her.

“Come in, mom.” You say and Lena opens the door, softly. She puts her head inside your bedroom and smiles at you.

“Oh, great. I just wanted to check on you, but you’re going to sleep, right?” She asks and you agree with your head. “Great. Good night, babygirl.”

“Mom, can I ask you something?” You ask and Lena goes inside your bedroom, agreeing with her head. “Can you, um, stay a little?”

“Yeah!” Lena agrees excitedly, like that was exactly what she was thinking. She makes her way to the bed next to you, getting under the comforter with you.

“Sorry for being so codependent these days, I just-”

“Stop.” Lena says pulling you closer. “Come hug me.” You toss your arm over her, and she kisses the top of your head. You can’t see her face, but you know she’s smiling. “I’ve been feeling very codependent too. Actually, if you would have me, I would have been sleeping with you since you were five. But I guess you wanted your independence.”

“Not anymore.” You sigh, hugging her tightly. “I’ve missed you.”

“You know, I went to L Corp after what happened. There were pictures of you everywhere.” You can genuinely hear her smile. “I just kept thinking how crazy that was, but how hard I needed it to be true. Your little face. I mean don’t get me wrong, Kara’s face is beautiful, and I really wanted her to be my family too. But you. I wish I could explain the feeling.”

“It’s like-” You start. “Like this feeling that nothing would make sense. And that, yeah, you would have other people you love around you, but that missing piece is so fundamentally meaningful for the bigger picture, for your life, to make sense. Without it, all of it would fall into pieces and fade into a life you wouldn’t want to live.”

Your ear is so glued to Lena’s chest that you can hear her heart skipping a beat, without having to use your super hearing. You lift your head to look at her, and she’s crying silent tears with a smile on her face.

“Was that how you felt without me?” She asks and you nod, biting your lower lip. “Oh, my baby!” She pulls you into the hug again. “My baby.”

Lena just spends a few minutes stroking your hair, gently. It feels so nice you feel yourself dozing off to sleep. But you wouldn’t want to keep her stuck under you, so you fight it.

“Listen-” Lena calls you and you change position so you can look at her. “I know I wasn’t always as supportive as I should’ve been about your supering. It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I mean, I have to appreciate it more than anyone because you keep saving my life. It’s just, when you’re out there, I get so scared.”

“I know.” You agree softly. “But momma is out there too, and you-”

“Almost die every time she gets just the tiniest scratch. Yeah.” She smiles, and you furrow your eyebrows. “But I sort of, oof, this is hard to say. When I married your momma, I knew who she was, what she does, I knew how saving the world was important for her. I knew I could lose her to it, eventually.” Lena breathes deep, wiping her tears. “But you? I can’t fathom the thought that one day I may lose you. I just-I just can’t.”

“Well, I’m not a hero anymore so you don’t have to worry.” You reassure her, but Lena bites her tongue, definitely not reassured.

“I’ll always worry. And you know why?” Lena asks and you shake your head, disagreeing. “Because you are my baby. And even when you’re forty you’ll still be my baby, and I’ll still be terrified just to think about you not being in my life anymore.”

“What if I get married and have kids and move somewhere else?” You ask and Lena smiles at the thought.

“That will happen! And then-” She whispers to you, so Kara can’t hear her. Which is ridiculous because if Kara is listening, she can hear her breath, let alone her words. “I’ll leave Kara in the middle of the night, and go to your house, kick your wife to another bedroom, and snuggle in with you like we’re doing right now.”

You chuckle at the thought. God, you love Lena so much. “You promise?”

“Of course.” Lena kisses your forehead. “We’re stronger together.”

You smile at her words, and close your eyes again, feeling like you can finally fall asleep. But you still hear, somewhere far away, before you sleep completely, Lena’s voice reassuring you. “I love you, babygirl. All of you. Always.”

Notes:

Hope this count as the fluffiest of fluffs @lonelydiary cause I thought they were so sweet here 💙

[piecksz]

forget me too. | (m)

pairing: modern punk!bakugo x fem!reader 

warnings: nsfw, angst, cheating, oral sex, penetrative sex, angry sex, choking, fingering, exes with benefits, mentions of breeding, hair pulling, explicit language, toxic relationship, manipulation, reader just being a lovesick puppy but wouldn’t we all be if it came to bakugo

summary: it’s been a year since you broke up with bakugo after you found him cheating on you, and you swore you’d moved on from him, but when you run into him again at a record shop, you fall back into a dangerous cycle of love and hate

words: 9,800+

a/n: so i gave in and watched downfalls high, and i’m not gonna lie, it wasn’t the best piece of media i’ve ever consumed, but mgk’s feature track with halsey kind of ate (AND IT LITERALLY INSPIRED SO MANY ANGSTY IDEAS I WAS ITCHINGGG). therefore, this is said angsty idea. you can listen to the song forget me too by machine gun kelly (feat. halsey) while reading, that’s if you’re really daring. good luck lol 

If there was one thing in the world you couldn’t fully understand, it was the type of girls who hated their ex-boyfriends, twirling their hair flirtatiously and giggling at all their pitiful punchlines one week, and the next, hatching bogus rumors to discourage other girls from seeking them out romantically, letting them know that their charm came at a price.

Until it was Bakugo.

You genuinely didn’t see it coming. You weren’t even able to recognize the severity of the situation until you were convulsing with the gravity of your sobs, shrieking at him in front of his apartment. Bakugo had called you earlier that evening to reschedule your previously-arranged dinner date since his friend Kirishima was in town, and he wanted to dedicate the rest of the night to catching up with his old schoolmate. You happily forfeited your own plans and instead opted to rendezvous with your boyfriend and his familiar later in the week, but as the night hauled on your favorite TV show no longer satiated your boredom.

Shuffling into the kitchen and scouring your cabinet for ingredients, you drew up the idea to bake some sweets for Bakugo and Kirishima because you figured it would be a nice surprise, however once you arrived at Bakugo’s place you deduced quickly that his friend wasn’t over. It should have been notably clear that something was unusual by the way he was hesitant to let you in.

He poked his head out from behind the privacy of his front door, definitely surprised to see you, but not in the way you had hoped.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a tight-lipped expression, eyes dropping to the tub of sugar cookies in your hands. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you call me to let me know you were coming over?”

You hummed after detecting a subtle edge in his voice. “I wanted to surprise you.” You rose to your toes to look past his head. “I thought you said your friend was coming over.”

Bakugo nodded, and once he extended his hand to accept your treats you could see that his torso was bare. “Idiot had to cancel at the last minute. School shit. He said he’ll be here tomorrow.”

Your grip tightened on the container. 

If his friend couldn’t make it then why didn’t he let you know? The two of you still could have made it to your dinner reservations.

And in that moment, you swore your internal monologue was loud enough to hear, because you immediately received your answer when you heard a soft, feminine voice come from inside his apartment.

“Who the fuck is that?” you barked, trying to outbalance Bakugo’s weight on the door. “Bakugo you little fucking shit--let me in.” It was a moment-long game between the two of you until Bakugo gave in, accepting the reality that he’d already been caught. You stumbled into the door as it swung open, revealing his company.

She was petite with short blonde hair, wearing a panicked expression that matched Bakugo’s oversized flannel on her naked body almost impeccably. You stared at each other until you broke the tense silence with a quiet holy shit.

“Holy shit,” you repeated louder, blinking as fast as you could to hold back the salty tears that were beginning to cloud your vision. “You fucking dick!” You didn’t notice how forceful your voice had gotten until you were shouting at him, the immense pressure building in your chest making your voice crack. You hurled every vulgar name in the book at Bakugo who couldn’t even look you in the eye while you cried in front of him.

This couldn’t have been the same man you once saw your future playing out with. The hell unfolding in front of you was exactly what your friends, Momo and Ochako, had predicted once you disclosed your interest in Bakugo. They warned you that he had a record on campus, with multiple girls, and yet somehow when he wooed you with sweet words and thoughtful gifts, just like they said he would, you still thought you were different. The worst part of it all was that he wasn’t a terrible guy by any means. He was a little rough around the edges with a temper, but he was hilarious and passionate, all while being profound and smart.

In your fantasies the two of you were married, and then came babies with tufts of your tresses and the mischief of his ruby eyes. He would have been a winner, if he wasn’t so emotionally incompetent. Perhaps you were naive to assume what you and Bakugo had was love just because he said so.

Your quivering fingers worked unsteadily against the lid of the tupperware. You tossed it aside before dumping the container’s contents on the floor of his apartment and hurled the empty food saver at him.

“Come fucking on Y/N,” he said wearily. The fucking nerve he had to act tired.

“Enjoy your cookies,” you responded venomously, leaving quickly before another set of tears came surging.

The next several months were excruciating, and the pain you experienced was nothing compared to its onset. If you weren’t spending days cocooned in bed to sleep off the fatigue of your endless crying, then you were on your couch, staring unamused while Blair Waldorf waltzed across your TV screen. 

At least she got her happy fucking ending. Good for her. 

You couldn’t even find the energy to eat, and ice cream was not the cure-all for heartbreaks like everyone lied and said it was.

Every so often Momo and Ochako would pay you a visit. For the first few weeks they let you mourn, consoling you and cleaning up the litter of crumpled tissues around your apartment. After the first month, they suggested that maybe meeting someone new would be the best way to help you forget about your break up, but you didn’t want to meet someone new. You just wanted to know if Bakugo missed you too.

Once your grades started slipping, you used that as an excuse to turn to isolation and lose yourself in your schoolwork. The distraction left you with no leisure time to scroll through old photos of you and Bakugo in your phone, and within a couple months, you swore that you’d finally moved on from him.

But it seemed all of that was forgotten the moment you recognized his head of spiky blonde hair from the next aisle over in the record shop, and you silently cursed the universe’s cruel way of working, that all-knowing bitch.

You kept your head down, pretending to be overtly interested in the Kendrick Lamar vinyl you held in your hands, but you couldn’t stop peeking over the shelf to see if Bakugo had moved from his spot.

You could hear him shuffling, and every time you looked up, he was a step closer to the end of the aisle, meaning that your game plan was to move in the opposite direction, so you could slip past him without being detected.

You continued to move one step to the left every time Bakugo moved another step to the right, surely securing your elusive escape, but when you glanced up again, he had disappeared from your line of surveillance. Shit.

“Y/N?”

Shit!

Slowly, you pivoted in the direction of your name only to gawk, horrified, as your ex-boyfriend strolled up to you casually, like he had never ripped your heart out and trampled all over it.

Once he got closer, you realized how generous the year between your break up and now had been to him. His yellow flannel was useless tied around his waist when it should have been on his shoulders instead, covering the way his black Led Zeppelin shirt clung to the impressive build of his upper body.  

“Holy fuck, it is you,” Bakugo said, incredulously. You swore he had grown taller now that he was standing in front of you because you couldn’t remember if he had always towered over you.

“Small world,” you said, distastefully.

“Not really,” Bakugo shrugged. “This is just where I come to slave away for minimum wage.”

You simply blinked at him with a placid expression, unable to decide which of your emotions was best considering the circumstances.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he chuckled. “Did you cut your hair?”

You raised an eyebrow plainly. “No.” If anything your hair had grown a few inches longer.

“Highlights?”

“No.”

“Shit seriously?” Bakugo cast his eyes downwards and then back up, sizing up your figure. “Well you look good.”

You could only offer up a dry laugh in response while shaking your head at the peculiarity of the situation.  

“What is wrong with you?” you jeered.  

You couldn’t believe the ease with which he approached you after not seeing you for twelve whole months, especially when six and a half of those months were spent bawling your eyes out over him and trying to repair the heart he broke carelessly.

Bakugo’s blithe expression withered. The look left behind was one of bashful remorse, as if he was embarrassed by the person he was a year ago.

You weren’t even sure if he had really changed since you’d gone out of your way to avoid hearing or seeing anything about him after you claimed to have gotten over him. The real reason was that you felt you couldn’t trust yourself. You feared that if you came across anything having to do with him, you’d descend into another self-destructive, heartache-driven spiral.

“I tried calling to apologize, but you blocked my number. And then blocked me on everything else,” Bakugo explained.

You shifted uncomfortably.

“I never saw you around campus, and when I showed up to your apartment you weren’t home. I felt like horse shit, seriously, but after a while I just gave up, I guess.”

You pursed your lips together at the mention of his attempts to remedy your breakup, specifically because this whole time you could have sworn he didn’t care to fix things with you.

Bakugo leaned in, and you surprised yourself by making no effort to create more distance between the both of you.

“I’m really fucking sorry, Y/N,” he said softly, for once without the gruffness of his usual tone.

If he made the effort to apologize even after a year, that must have meant that he still had some feelings left over for you, right? Did that mean he still loved you? The suspicion made your heart squeeze with expectation.

“Are you sorry that you hurt me, or are you sorry that you got caught?” You questioned.

“Both,” Bakugo snickered tactlessly.

You swore you could have punched his lights out then and there, but he must have noticed the way you tensed up because he looped his arm around you, pulling you in until you nestled into his larger frame.

“I fucking missed you, dumbass.”

Your stomach dropped at the very mention of the words you were longing to hear after your split, and you knew that you weren’t over him. Not even close. Even when you had caught another girl with her hands on him.

Your first mistake was unblocking Bakugo’s number that night, and your second was sending him a text. You stood in the bathroom, dumbfounded by your own actions while you clutched your phone nervously. Thank god he didn’t have his read receipts on. The last thing you needed to know was if he decided to leave you on read after you had just stroked his monumental ego.

You sat your phone aside and proceeded brushing your teeth until you were interrupted by a shrill ding from beside you. You grabbed your phone much too quickly and slid the screen up to be met with a reply from Bakugo.

9:32 PM

bakugo: so i’m still in your phone huh?

9:32 PM:

bakugo: lmao

9:33 PM:

bakugo: thinking about me even after bitching about how much you hate me?

9:34 PM:

bakugo: especially at night that’s hot

You scowled at the messages before putting your phone back down. Using the time it took you to finish brushing your teeth and washing your face, you recited your responses over and over again because as much as you wanted to, you knew it wouldn’t be smart to jump back into your relationship that fast. You still held negative sentiments about what he had done to you, but the pleasure of having him back was slowly beginning to outweigh your earlier feelings.

While shuffling into your bedroom, you kept your eyes glued to your phone screen, typing, deleting, and retyping messages, worried that they would sound too needy.

9:50 PM:

you: so i see you still have a head so big that it could block out the sun

9:53 PM:

bakugo: fuck off you little shit

9:53 PM:

bakugo: no classes tmrw and i’m off work at 12

9:54 PM:

you: ok? do i look like your fucking secretary?

10:00 PM:

bakugo: no im just letting you know in case you’re planning on stalking me again :^(

10:01 PM

bakugo: obviously i wanna see you tomorrow dipshit

Warmth spread across your cheeks until it deepened into a dangerous heat, and the happy memories of you and Bakugo a year ago resurfaced as deja vu. Everything was scarily reminiscent of the way he asked you out the first time, back when your opinions about him were much more straightforward.

You rolled over to the other side of your bed and squealed, flustered by how to-the-point he was about his desire to reconcile things with you.

“Get it together, honestly,” you reprimanded yourself, jabbing a finger against your temple in an effort to drill the mantra into your head.

You responded back to accept Bakugo’s invitation, being mindful not to sound too excited, but you couldn’t deny that you slept better than usual that night.

The next day when you met up with Bakugo after his shift at the record shop ended, the two of you settled on getting coffee from one of the restaurants on campus. Well, you got a coffee, but Bakugo went for an iced tea instead because he insisted that coffee tasted like “dog shit”.

Regardless of your staggering difference of opinion in beverages, you guys hit it off again, laughing and joking around like there had never been a rift between you two in the first place. You were taken aback by how comfortable you still felt around him and how much he still seemed to adore you.

Two weeks after your reunion, you and Bakugo were already falling back into the routine of going on dates like you’d done before, snickering in the back of crowded movie theaters and demolishing each other in multiple rounds of mini golf. You even kept the photo booth picture that was printed for you at the aquarium in your wallet, just so you could peek at it every now and then.

Three weeks after your reunion, you concluded that you were pretty much together. Bakugo had never made it official, and neither had you, but you trusted the way you felt, and it seemed clear that he felt the same way.

Your friends however, weren’t as happy to hear the news of you and Bakugo seeing each other again.

Momo’s eyes widened as she leaned over the table and thrusted her mechanical pencil in your direction.

“Y/N, please tell me you’re joking.” She turned to Ochako who looked at you with a troubled expression. “Uraraka, please tell me she’s joking.”

Ochako pressed her lips into a thin line, shaking her head in utter disbelief. She said nothing. Rather she looked to you for an answer, wanting you to explain the situation before she scolded you for being so forgiving toward someone who didn’t deserve it.  

“He apologized okay? And it really seemed like he meant it, I’m not just saying that. You guys know I can’t hold grudges. I’m soft.”

Momo huffed.

“We started talking, and he told me that he tried to apologize but he never got the chance.”

Your friends were still quiet, waiting for the punchline, but once they realized that there was no hidden gag to the story, they leaned back in exhaustion, disappointed that you’d gotten yourself into another wearisome situation because of your thoughtlessness.

“And he said he missed me. After an entire year, he still misses me.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if we had found you someone else, you know. Someone nice. Better than Bakugo, so you don’t feel like you have to settle,” Momo countered.

“I didn’t need to date someone else,” you chided her. “I’m not one of those people that need to be in a relationship to feel fulfilled, plus I’ve been swamped with assignments.” You knew you were just trying to save face. You knew the real reason why you turned down all your prospective blind dates, and your friends knew it too. You couldn’t see yourself with anyone other than Bakugo, and you meant it when you said you didn’t need love to feel like you had purpose, but when it came to the blonde, it appeared that none of those principles applied.

“You’re lying,” Ochako sighed, tucking her hair behind her ear before clicking her pen and returning to her research paper.

“I’m not settling!” you declared, earning a few scattered glances from the other students in the library. You smiled at them ruefully, mouthing an apology, and ducked your head back into your college textbook.

You decided to drop the conversation, concluding that your friends just wouldn’t understand. They didn’t know your relationship with Bakugo like you did so how could they have understood?

Later that night however, you couldn’t help but chew over your friends’ reactions. There was clearly a reason why they felt the way they did, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to see their concern. You didn’t need to be chastised every time you did something they didn’t agree with, because you reminded yourself you were a grown ass woman. You treasured Momo and Ochako, but you were absolutely capable of looking out of yourself.

“Why do girls watch this shit?” Bakugo muttered from beside you, uninterested in the movie playing on the Macbook propped up in your lap. “It’s just dresses and sideburns, where the fuck are the fist fights?”

“It’s Pride and Prejudice, stupid. Not Deadpool,” you retorted, giggling slightly once Bakugo decided the skin of your neck was more interesting than Kiera Knightley. He released a throaty chuckle while attaching his lips to the base of your jaw and continued kissing until he stopped where your neck met your shoulders.

“Stop, I’m trying to watch the movie,” you complained tenderly with absolutely no intent to make Bakugo stop.

Bakugo sat up, grabbing your laptop off the sheets and closing it briskly. “Fuck the movie, I have a better idea,” he suggested. Your eyebrows furrowed, watching as he tossed the device onto the chair beside your closet.

“Hey, what are you doing, you dick?” you protested.

Within seconds Bakugo was on top of you with arms on either side of your head, effectively caging you in beneath him.

“Yeah?” he whispered provocatively, like he was making sure he had your permission first. He spoke under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You didn’t know what sensation you registered first: the warmth now spreading quickly across your cheeks, down to your chest, or the pronounced throbbing between your thighs.

You nodded, softly responding with a “yeah” in return, and Bakugo didn’t waste a second before pressing his mouth to yours enthusiastically. You were surprised how quickly you re-familiarized yourself with the curve of his lips and the way they moved steadily against yours. Acting with fervor, he used his hand to grip your chin, forcing your mouth to open wider so he could slip his tongue past your teeth.

Bakugo used his free hand to grab your breast under your sweatshirt, and you relished in the feeling of his warm palm against your skin while he ran his fingertips against the silky fabric of your lace bra.

“Lace? You dirty bitch,” he teased, breaking contact. “There’s no way you could have known we were gonna fuck.”

You laughed, appreciating how seductive Bakugo looked. His sandy hair was tousled from your impatient hands in his locks, skin feverishly tinged with a dusty pink hue, and lips swollen from the force of his kiss.

“I didn’t know, but I was hoping we would,” you answered honestly. “I guess I got lucky.”

Bakugo snickered, clearly pleased with the response he received. His scarlet eyes flickered lustfully, and he hastily returned to working on your body. He pulled your sweatshirt up and off, tossing it over his shoulder before working swiftly against the clasp of your bra, which he skillfully managed to break with just one hand.

Must have had a lot of practice with that.

But your cynical thoughts were soon forgotten the moment Bakugo’s tongue curled around your nipple, enjoying the way his saliva made your skin glisten under the dim lamp light. He hummed loudly every time you jolted and whimpered, your back arching in tandem. He closed his lips around the delicate nub, sucking harshly while making no attempts to hide his sly smile. He was enjoying himself far too much.

He made sure he put his other hand to work, rolling your other nipple between his fingers, pinching roughly while tugging on it absentmindedly. Once he grew bored of your innocent mewls, he thirsted for something filthier.

Bakugo tantalizingly slid his hand down your stomach until his fingers curled around the waistband of your volleyball shorts. He stretched the Spandex material until when he released it, it snapped painfully against your skin, his cock throbbing at the exposure of your earthy groan.

He slipped off your shorts, and the sight before him was enough to elicit a long, drawn-out “Jesus fucking Christ”.

You didn’t realize you were so aroused that your underwear was soaking wet, your pussy now visible through the thin sheer fabric. Bakugo swallowed hard, palming himself to relieve some of the unbearable pressure he was feeling. He could feel his cock straining against his underwear, and he wanted to stick his dick inside you and fuck you until your eyes rolled back into your head, but the only thing he wanted more than that was to taste you.

“These are mine,” Bakugo insisted. He pulled your panties off, chuckling dryly at the wet stain on the fabric before tucking them into his pocket.

You tilted your head at him.

“What? I’m keeping them as a souvenir,” he replied.

But that’s not what you were concerned with. You were more humiliated than anything that this was your first time having sex with him in a year, and you’d been horny for him since you opened the door. You might as well have just written Bakugo’s Whore on your head in thick permanent marker, but you kept your suggestion to yourself knowing that Bakugo would have liked the idea way too much.

Bakugo reached down to pull his shirt over his head and threw it aside, unveiling his impressive physique. After you guys had broken up, he began finding himself in the gym more frequently, placating his regret and anger through physical exertion, and although he used weightlifting to cope, it left him with an incredible build.

Sweet lord, you thought, please fucking break me.

Bakugo wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling you forcibly toward him. You propped yourself up on your elbows to get a good look as his face disappeared between your legs. You couldn’t see much past his hair, but you felt a long wet lick up your folds, and your arms immediately gave out, causing you to fall back onto the bed while your hips bucked upward.

You let out an obscene cry, but that only encouraged Bakugo more. He parted your lips with his tongue, licking another stripe up to your clit before sucking it into his mouth, all while peering up at you to see the way you writhed under his touch. You gripped the sheets, and your breathing grew increasingly labored as Bakugo swirled the tip of his tongue against the tender bud, slowly in one direction, and then the opposite. You continued to grind yourself against his mouth while your desire became insatiable. You felt like your hunger was completely justified, because you hadn’t been spoiled in a long fucking time.

You completely unraveled once you glanced down just in time to see Bakugo spit on your parted folds before using his fingers to coat your pussy in his saliva. His slick fingers rubbed your clit, taunting you for just a while longer, and then he dipped his fingers inside of you. He started with two fingers, slipping them in and out with ease until his spit mixed with your arousal created a vile lubricant.

With the way Bakugo’s lips were slightly parted and his eyebrows were knitted in the center, you could tell he was concentrating dangerously, observing how desperately you swallowed his fingers every time he pushed them in.

Your vision erupted into white heat when he bent down to take your clit back into his mouth while pumping in and out of you with an added finger. The symphony that filled the space of your room was absolutely foul. Your intense cries bounced off the walls, while Bakugo panted heavily at the messy sound of his fingers thrusting in and out of you. And neither of you cared if your neighbors could hear.

“Bakugo--,” you started, but your broken plea wasn’t nearly enough to get his attention.

“Bakugo,” you cried louder, your body beginning to shake with the onset of your orgasm.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, his voice slightly higher than you were used to, almost like he was whining.

You could only give a weak nod in response.

“Be a good little bitch and cum for me,” Bakugo coaxed, as you yielded to the intensity of your orgasm. He quickened his pace just to see you convulse as you reached your high, but then slowed down until he was ready to pull his fingers out of you.

The sight was enough to make Bakugo cum untouched. You were finger-fucked out, eyes shut as your chest heaved up and down while you tried to catch your breath. Your arousal was smeared on the inside of your thighs and your bedsheet was damp where you released.

Bakugo wanted to ask you if you were alright, but the aching pain in his pants took priority. He reached into his underwear, freeing his swollen cock from the confines of his boxers. He bit down on his bottom lip so hard he almost drew blood as he pumped himself gingerly, hissing at the feeling. His tip was raw and flushed, leaking precum in shameless amounts.

He hoisted your legs on either shoulder and positioned himself at your entrance, looking at you for confirmation, and you nodded feebly. He sunk his entire length into you, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a shrill scream. Your walls were already sore, and the sting of Bakugo’s large cock inside of you was a painful bliss. Tears came quickly, and they rolled down your cheeks while Bakugo rocked his hips into you slowly. He was waiting for his aching to subside before speeding up his rhythm, and once it did he was taken over by an unappeasable greed.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned, thrusting himself in and out of you. “If you keep squeezing me like that I’m gonna cum inside you and get you fucking pregnant.” Bakugo had one hand on your headboard, his grip so firm that his knuckles had turned white.

You sobbed underneath him, withstanding your own pain until it subdued into pleasure. You shifted your legs until they wrapped around Bakugo’s strong torso, unable to get enough of him.

Bakugo rammed into you, and your headboard hitting your wall furiously set the tempo until he fell into a staggered cadence.

“I’m gonna cum,” he choked out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck--.” Your name was the last thing Bakugo could get out before he broke free of your hold, pulling himself out of you so he could release. He cummed on your stomach, generously shooting out hot spurts of white until he was soft and you were covered in his seed.

Bakugo leaned over and collapsed beside you, short of breath. He was drenched in sweat and his blonde hair stuck to his forehead with perspiration. He chuckled after a few silent minutes.

“What the fuck was that? Were you trying to get me to nut in you?” Bakugo asked, turning to face you.

You didn’t know what he was talking about until you remembered the way you wrapped him up in your legs while he was inside you.

You snorted, erupting into a fit of sheepish laughter. “Yeah.”

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, bewildered. “Crazy bitch.”

He pulled his sweatpants up and rolled out of your bed. “I’m not ready to be a dad yet,” he voiced, before shuffling lazily out of the room to find something he could clean you up with and smoke a cigarette on the fire escape.

The next morning you found yourself alone, Bakugo nowhere to be found despite you falling asleep with his arms around your waist. You raised a sleepy eyebrow at the empty space next to you that was still sunken from his weight. Okay good, so you didn’t hallucinate last night. You figured Bakugo had early duties to attend to, so you simply grumbled before turning over to get more sleep.

Following that day, every time Bakugo came over to your place, or you found yourself at his, the routine was simple: have breathtaking sex and then pass out.

You grew used to expecting it from him whenever the two of you spent any time alone, and the night before always consumed your thoughts the morning after. You’d squeeze your thighs together during your lecture hall while your professor yammered on about early psychology. The memory of Bakugo’s hand around your throat as he fucked you from behind prompted a surge of heat to your core.

Even when the two of you couldn’t see each other because neither of your schedules coincided, you found a way to make things work, whether it was over the phone, through text, or over Facetime.

Occasionally, you’d ring up Bakugo while he was closing up the shop to taunt him, touching yourself on the other line while he’d grow painfully hard and couldn’t relieve himself until he got home.

“You little fucking shit.” You loved the way his low growls sounded over the phone. “Let’s see how bold you are when I come over and turn your thighs into earmuffs.”

And occasionally, he’d send you videos of himself in bed while you were at the library late cramming for your exams the next morning, touching his cock with haste before cumming on his hands as he groaned your name loudly.

Not an ounce of passion was lost between you two, and if anything you’d only grown closer together from the time spent apart. You had your love back, and everything in your life was ideal.

Of course, that was all before the party.

The party at Sero’s house that you’d caught wind of once you joined Momo, Ochako, and your other friend Mina for lunch.

“You know I don’t like going to parties thrown by frats,” Ochako muttered, ripping off small bites of her chicken wrap.

“Why not? There’ll be plenty of guys there for you to talk to, your phone has been a little dry lately,” Mina responded, laughing silently.

Ochako squinted at her jest before playfully rolling her eyes herself. “That’s exactly why. You know what happened last time I went to a frat party. The hangover isn’t worth it.”

Mina exhaled heavily and turned to you with a hopeful look.

“Y/N, you’ll go with us right? Me and Momo?”

You squeezed your water bottle wearily. “I don’t know. I’m not a fan of frat parties either.” You didn’t know what answer to give her, she looked extremely optimistic, and you hated to rain on Mina’s Friday night plans, but you didn’t want to spend the rest of the evening crammed in a frat house with a crowd of strangers.

Mina stuck out her bottom lip and reached to grab your hand from across the table. “Please? Please? There’s no guarantee Momo won’t ditch me at the party for Todoroki.”

Momo murmured inaudibly beside her.

You sighed, however you relented, giving into the arrangements Mina had made for you, but you regretted your decision far too late.

You showed up to the gathering with Mina and Momo dressed modestly. Unlike your friends and many of the other girls there, you already had someone that you were seeing, and you wanted to look as reserved as you could so there was no confusion around whether or not you were off the market.

Bakugo was possessive, and he preferred to keep his possessions close. There was no telling what he would do or how he’d react if he learned of another man trying to make a move on you.

You took small sips out of your cup while you followed quietly behind Momo and Mina as they moved from person to person, greeting friends you were unfamiliar with. You feigned a cheery smile when you were introduced to them, but overall you were bored with the party scene. You weren’t really a frat party girl.

You yelled over to Momo that you needed another drink and shook your head when she asked you if you needed her to come with you. She looked far too engrossed in her conversation with Todoroki, and you didn’t want to just whisk her away while they were talking. In fact, you were the chairman of the Anti-Cockblock Committee.

You sauntered into the kitchen, sliding in next to the counter once the guests who were there first left. You started grabbing bottles to inspect the labels because to be honest, you weren’t sure what half of these brands were. As a broke college student, you bought your own drinks, which were mainly $20 cases of hard lemonade and cheap raspberry Smirnoff vodka from the liquor store. Clearly Sero had selective taste in high quality shit.

You poured yourself a small sip of Patron, tasting the clear liquid, and tried not to gag at the oaky taste as it burned your throat going down.

You felt someone ease in beside you. “Hey, bartender.”

You glanced at the guest next to you, their familiar visage coming into view. You recognized his distinctive green head of hair and innocent freckles peppered across his cheeks, it was the same face you saw every day in your sociology class.

What was his name? Ku--something. Zu…?

You remembered your professor referred to him by his nickname, Deku, and once you said his name as convincingly as you could, you gathered by his boyish grin that you were right.

“I’m surprised you remembered,” he laughed, and adjusted his circle-rimmed glasses while his emerald eyes swelled into crescents.

“I didn’t really take you for a partier,” you observed. Deku was incredibly smart from what you’d seen in class. He knew the answers before your professor could even finish their questions, and when you’d ask him if he could repeat what the teacher said for your notes, he explained the material even better than the person who was an expert in the subject for a living.

“I’m not,” he replied. “But you know, the college experience and all that.”

You scoffed and nodded, knowingly. “Melt your brain studying for 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, and then get shitfaced whenever you can. Yeah, that’s definitely the college experience,” you joked, pouring yourself a couple shots of vodka and mixed it with orange soda.

“I was meaning to ask you,” Deku started. “I mean--Yeah--I was meaning to ask you for your number in class earlier this week.”

You stirred your drink with a finger before stealing a taste. “Of course,” you agreed happily.

Deku’s face deepened into a rosy bloom once he took out his phone, typing in your contact while you recited the numbers.

“I’m not asking for a weird reason or anything like that. Just so we can help each other out with homework and stuff.”

You nodded, already acknowledging that Deku was a sweet kid, at least as far as you knew. You didn’t expect him to have any promiscuous intentions.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be as much help to you as you’ll be to me,” you teased, and Deku chuckled nervously still trying to shake the blush off his cheeks. “I’m free on Monday, I can meet up with you after class if you want.”

Deku buried his face into his cup, his shallow breathing causing his glasses to fog up. “Yeah, that sounds great,” he mumbled bashfully.

“Text me the deets,” you grinned, before wandering off back to your friends.

On the way back to the stairwell where Momo and Mina were still standing, your attention was drawn by a large crowd around the living room that erupted into jovial squeals and cheers every few seconds. You gravitated toward the mass of guests, standing on your toes to get a better look, but when that didn’t work you gently made your way through the throng of people, issuing soft “sorry, excuse me’s” and “thank you’s” to the people that didn’t mind letting you slip past them.

You had no knowledge that he was going to be here. He never told you what his plans for the night were, but this was the last place you were expecting Bakugo to be.

Here.

Playing a game of “Kiss and Blow” on a crowded couch with someone who wasn’t you. When it reached his turn, you could see his shallow inhale and how he put in no effort to keep the card against his mouth. It fell between the cushions, and the crowd erupted into another rally.

Bakugo grinned artfully and hooked his arm around the eager brunette before smothering her giggles with a deep tongue-filled kiss.

At first, the cogs in your brain couldn’t turn fast enough to register what was happening, and your thought process stuttered for a moment while your eyes took in more than you expected. Your body remained immobile, giving your thoughts a few seconds to catch up. Maybe for those few seconds, your anguish was suspended, and your shock was simply a cushion until you fell apart.

You couldn’t make your way out of the party fast enough, and you didn’t even think to let Momo and Mina know that you were leaving. Everything around you sounded warbled, like you were underwater, as your leaden legs carried you out, past the front lawn, and across the street until you were far away that you could no longer hear the music of the party. It was then that you pulled out your phone to text Mina claiming that you didn’t feel well and called an Uber to take you home.

The following morning you ignored all of Bakugo’s texts. He sent one at 10 AM, asking you if you were down to get breakfast, and then another at noon suggesting lunch since you didn’t respond to his text about breakfast. He texted you again, and again, and again, and you continued to disregard him.

You didn’t cry this time around. No. You were filled with a foreign anger. It was strange and new, and it burned nothing like the rage you’d felt in all your years of living. You didn’t know whether you were angry at him for putting you through this again or if you were angry at yourself for really believing that he’d changed. You really wanted to confront Bakugo in person, but you were afraid of your unpredictability. You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him--roundhouse kick him in the throat most likely.

Bakugo’s relentless attempts to get in contact with you didn’t let up, even late into the night. He sent another text threatening to show up at your apartment if you didn’t answer him, and then he called yet again.

Angrily, you reached out to answer your phone, but once you held it to your ear all the fury you’d been bearing throughout the day emerged.

“Can you fuck off?” You hissed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bakugo responded, taken off guard by your greeting. “What the fuck?”

“If you were so hellbent on seeing me today, you should have thought about that before you decided to be a hypocritical little bastard! Again!” You shook with anger, unable to effectively piece together all the profane names you wanted to call him.

Bakugo was still while you put him on blast.

“Do you not have anything to say to me, you fuckwit?”

“No, because I don’t even know why you’re going full bitch right now!” Bakugo defended himself. You sat back at his reply, confused at why he was guarded. You knew that when Bakugo was aware he was in the wrong he always remained quiet and pensive.

“Last night?” you clarified. “Does last night not ring a bell to you?”

He let out a small grunt of recollection. “I was at a party last night, what are you talking about?”

“No shit, Bakugo! I saw you swallowing another girl whole!”

The other line erupted into laughter, and a large knot settled in your throat.

“Am I not allowed to kiss other girls now?” he asked.

Had he been hit by a semi-truck? Did he need a swift lobotomy?

“Why would you kiss another girl if you have a girlfriend?”

Bakugo muttered a quiet “what”, and then the lightbulb clicked.

“Holy shit, Y/N, did you think we were back together?”

Huh?

“When did we ever say that we were together?” he questioned lightly, finding your misunderstanding comical.

But--

“I thought we were just fucking around, you know? I never mentioned getting back together, and you didn’t either, so I just assumed we were just fucking.”

You didn’t say a word. As angry as you wanted to be and as angry as you already were, he was right. You had only assumed that you two were back together, but neither of you agreed on it explicitly.

“Our dates...” you countered listlessly.

“Two people hanging out together isn’t always a date.” Bakugo shifted on the other end and then grunted again to occupy the tense silence. “Shitting me, I didn’t know that’s what you were thinking.”

Realization of how foolish you made yourself look set in, and you hoped the awkwardness that hung in the air was fleeting. You swallow heavily, unable to digest defeat.

“Okay,” you murmured, before hanging up and flinging your phone aside.

You and Bakugo didn’t speak for the rest of the night into next morning, and by midday Monday when your study session with Deku rolled around, you were more than reluctant to go. You knew the frustration of someone cancelling last minute, but you were unsure whether you could bring a positive spirit to your meetup, and the last thing you wanted to do was put kind-hearted Deku through your bad mood.

As the time drew closer, you were considering texting him to rain check, letting him know you were feeling under the weather, when he sent you a picture at the coffee shop. Deku had ordered you lunch, mentioning that you must’ve been hungry after classes all day. He explained that he didn’t know what you liked so he just bought for you what he usually got for himself.

After that, you couldn’t have possibly turned him down, so you showed up anyway. Before you knew it, the clock already approached 9 PM, and the coffee shop was about to close for the night. Time had flown by while you were getting lost in upbeat conversation with Deku, and the two of you laughed and joked around more than you’d done your assignment, but you didn’t mind since it gave you another excuse to meet up with him. You didn’t expect him to be as naturally humorous as he was, nor did you guess you’d have as much in common with him as you did, but you’d forgotten about your own heartache during the time you spent in his company. Not to mention, he was very easy on the eyes, but that was just an additional plus.

However, when you finally returned home to your empty apartment that night, all your feelings came flooding back.

“Right,” you muttered to yourself, setting your backpack down by the door, and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. “Back to square one.”

Normally, you’d invite Bakugo over, but you had no desire to be anywhere within a three mile radius of him at the moment, so you quickly got ready for bed, figuring that the more time you spent asleep meant less time that you’d have to dwell over the all-too-familiar pain in your chest.

You continued to spend more and more time with Deku even though most of your plans were organized around schoolwork, even if it was studying for a test or just practicing terminology flashcards. Eventually, you’d gotten close enough that you didn’t mind inviting him over since your apartment was much quieter than the dorm he shared with his roommate, Kaminari.

You were both sat on your couch, and you took turns quizzing each other on general knowledge sociology questions. You flipped through the flashcards, Deku answering every question with impressive ease, until you had grown tired.

“Deku, this isn’t fun. You know every term,” you sighed, shuffling through the stack.

“Studying isn’t supposed to be fun, that’s why it’s called studying and not having fun,” he joked lamely, extending his hands to take his flashcards back.

You giggled silently at his flat humor and leaned back against the armrest to put your knees up. “Okay, well what do you like to do when you’re not studying?”

Deku slipped his flashcards into the pocket of his backpack. “Between classes, studying, and wrestling, I don’t really have much time for anything else.”

You gaped. “You wrestle? No fucking way.”

Deku raised an eyebrow at you, amused and unsure of the reason for your stupefaction. “Why do you think I’m a loser or something?”

“I don’t think you’re a loser,” you explained. “I just wouldn’t have guessed.” You took note of his lean stature. He did look like he worked out, but you never considered his pastime was something as brutish as wrestling. You figured his interests would explain the scars that decorated both of his hands.

“Okay then,” you began, hopping up and throwing the blanket you were wrapped in on the couch. “Teach me something.”

Deku stared at you, uncertain whether you were serious. “I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said, timidly.

“Oh man up, you baby,” you joked while wrapping your hands around his wrists, urging him to stand up. “Who’s to say I won’t hurt you?”

Deku chuckled nervously before following you over to the open space between your living room and kitchen. He stood for a second, thinking of the easiest moves to show you, and then he nodded, like he had fully decided.

“Okay, come here.”

You did as you were told, letting Deku guide you into the correct position. You cleared your throat, unnerved by the way his chest pressed up against your back, and his strong hands looped around your arms to lock them behind your head.

“This is a full nelson,” he instructed. “It’s a submission hold. It’s not allowed in our matches, but feel free to use it if you ever find some creep following you home.” You could feel his chest rumble with laughter between your shoulder blades.  

You nodded, feeling flustered. “Mhm.”

The next demonstration had the two of you on the floor with your arm twisted at an uncomfortable angle while Deku’s arm was situated over your rib cage. You could feel his staggered breathing across the shell of your ear, and you looked over your shoulder expectantly, waiting for him to explain the move.

Deku must have realized how close your faces were to each other because he absolutely lost his cool. He began stammering, unable to get his words out. “And this one is called the--um...sorry it’s called the--,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, I’m--I just wanna kiss you so bad right now.” His body tensed with his confession, but you were the one who made the first move.

Once Deku’s hold loosened, you leaned into him, allowing your lips to collide with his. Your mouths moved against each other fervently, and the two of you rolled over until you were on top of him with your legs on either side of his waist. Ever since a few nights before you’d blown up on Bakugo, you hadn’t been touched. Not even by yourself. You tried, but your fingers came nothing close to competing with his. You were so incredibly needy that you had to forcefully stop yourself from gyrating your hips on Deku’s crotch. He was already red in the face, and you were afraid he might collapse if you worked your ass against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You broke your kiss to take Deku’s hands, and you rested them on your chest. With Bakugo, he would have immediately taken control, driving you into ecstasy, but with Deku it was different. It was as if he had never touched a pair of breasts before. His breathing grew even more shallow as his body became rigid.

You tilted your head, slightly irritated from the lack of action, but you were more concerned about Deku’s wellbeing.

“Are you okay?” you asked, tongue in cheek.

Deku nodded anxiously. “Yup, yup, yup, I’m great. I’m good.”

But something was off, and you knew you weren’t enjoying yourself like you typically would even with days of pent up libido. You closed your eyes tiredly and released an exasperated sigh, slowly pulling yourself off of him. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this right now--we shouldn’t--.”

Deku opened his mouth to contest, but you cut him off.

“It’s getting late, you should go. I’ll see you around.” You buried your face in your hands, embarrassed at your desperation. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized again.

Deku adjusted his glasses and murmured a small “It’s fine, Y/N.” He helped you up after he pulled himself off of the floor and gathered his belongings before heading out quickly, eager to flee the tension.

Fuck, you thought. How did things get so complicated? Deku was a sweet kid, genuinely pure at heart, and you knew he wanted you from the way his emerald eyes were glued to your frame, even while you were fully-clothed. Yet he wasn’t Bakugo. He didn’t know how to work you like Bakugo did, and you felt shamefaced for thinking about your ex-boyfriend again. You mulled it over and began to question why you were stopping yourself from having your cake and eating it too.

Bakugo didn’t intend on getting back together with you, but he enjoyed the phenomenal sex, and so did you. You held so much contempt for him now, but there was no reason why you couldn’t just agree to the terms of his compact.

Exes with benefits, only now with a few additions of your own.

No dates, no flirty chatter outside of your arrangements, nothing that could potentially steer you the wrong way towards forgiving him yet again, because like you told your friends: you were a pushover, and Bakugo was a sweet talker. That was a combination destined for hell.

Your revelation was exactly how you ended up sleeping with Bakugo again. Your sex life was practically a Dr. Seuss book. The two of you would have sex in his car, in the bathroom at a bar, and you’d have sex here, there, and pretty much anywhere.

When you first called him up, he answered almost immediately, somewhat excited to see your contact after going without speaking to each other for nearly a week. After you acceded, he snorted, wondering if you were conspiring.

“Are you fucking scheming something? Cooking up some devious shit to get me alone so you can kill me? Suffocate me while I’m sleeping? You’re goddamn insane.”

You rolled your eyes aggravated. “No. Are you down, or do you wanna pussy out now?”

Bakugo agreed, and both of you managed to keep things fairly cordial. Well, as cordial as they could possibly be, given your shared history. You couldn’t care less about the differences and arguments you had when you guys were in bed. If anything, you preferred it when Bakugo was angry at you, pissed at something you had said or just releasing pent up stress that built up over the week. That only made the sex filthier.

Although Bakugo wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, that didn’t mean he didn’t hold some affection for you, and perhaps still even vice versa. He was possessive over you regardless, even if it meant coming dangerously close to breaching the contract. Especially when he caught you one night with Deku at an on-campus movie screening in the park.

After the fiasco at your apartment with you and Deku, you apologized sincerely to him a couple of days later in class. Deku took no hard feelings to your blunder, and he nodded at the mild rejection when you clarified that things would be best if the two of you stayed friends. He reassured you that he was fine, and he was far too occupied for a relationship of any sort anyway.

But Bakugo wasn’t aware that you two had already tested the waters and decided it was sink rather than swim.

When he spotted you alone sitting on a blanket, he strolled over, wearing a sardonic grin. He struck up a superficial conversation that quickly dissipated once Deku returned with the snacks you two planned on sharing.

Your grin when Deku arrived didn’t compare to the indifferent smile you gave Bakugo when he approached you, and he noticed. His eyes narrowed at your green-haired friend as burning rage coursed through his veins.

“Deku, this is Bakugo,” you said, uninterested in Bakugo’s presence while you took the bag of sour candy Deku offered to you.

Deku smiled at Bakugo, extending his hand to exchange a handshake, but Bakugo simply slapped his hand away dismissively.

“Whatever,” Bakugo jeered, his jaw rooted, before he diverted his attention back to you. “See you later, dumbass.”

He left without a fight, but you knew he wouldn’t put the memory past him, and the following night, all of Bakugo’s anger came bubbling out. The way his brain operated was fascinating, especially since he knew that you two had no romantic commitments to each other, that’s what you agreed on, but finally seeing you over him with someone who he assumed was your new interest turned him crazed.

Bakugo held a painful fistful of your hair, pushing your face into the mattress while he wrecked you. He forced himself into you from behind, muffling your screams with the pillow while he rammed into you relentlessly. Every thrust was vicious, exhibiting the full height of his temper.

“You’re mine, do you understand that? You’re mine to touch, mine to ruin. If anyone else puts their hands on you, I swear I’ll beat them within an inch of their life.”

Bakugo hated to admit it, especially since he knew admitting it turned him into the hypocritical dick of the year, but he enjoyed having you chase after him like a lovelorn puppy. You clung to his side, and you were there at his beck and call. He’d always hated being emotionally tied down, hence his apprehension toward serious relationships, but the way you took advantage of the freedom to see other men made him livid.

“Maybe if I really did put a baby in you other people wouldn’t be such a fucking pain. What do you think?”

Bakugo’s pace didn’t let up as his grip on your hair tightened, and he pulled you upright until your head rested back on his shoulder.

“Answer me,” he demanded, dangerously.

All you could muster were broken sobs. You had never seen Bakugo like this, and you were willing to avow that after discounting your fear and pain, it was hot, and you were slightly intrigued.

Bakugo secured his hand around your neck, allowing his fingers to dig into the side of your throat, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you which let you know he was close, but he wasn’t making any efforts to slow down any time soon.

“The thought of you with him makes me want to fucking vomit. You know he’ll never be able to make you feel like I do,” he snarled against your ear. “No one will.”

You choked out a meager “I know” while your vision grew blurrier from the lack of oxygen to your head.

You came first and then Bakugo came shortly after, claiming you by pumping you full with his hot seed until you collapsed on the bed from overexhaustion.

You realized then, through the cloudiness of your thoughts came a single conviction: that your relationship with Bakugo was an endless cycle. You’d taken every romantic risk for Bakugo while he risked nothing. That’s how you remained foolish for so long, so naive. You refused to learn over and over again, and you sacrificed yourself in the process. 

Once Bakugo threw you modest praise and disappeared into the bathroom, you gave way to the enormity of your despair. Your tears were silent and persistent until your breathing turned ragged while humiliation and resentment burned just beneath your skin.

You were smitten with someone who was bad at romance. Your love was a fairytale, but not everyone believed in fairytales, meaning that was both the birth and death of your chronicle. Fairytales were only real if you believed they were.

Bakugo continued to give you reasons to leave and seek out the love you deserved, but you took momentary bliss as your excuse for staying, like a lovesick fool or like an addict dying from overdose. You wish he would at least give you something to hold onto, like false hope or a pretty lie, but you knew that’s all you’d ever be able to do: wish that things were different so you two could have grown into something beautiful.

[jenonctcity]

Art Of Innocence

The Virgin Series – Huang Renjun

Part of ‘The Virgin Diaries’ Series

Virgin!Au, University!Au, Bestfriend-Lovers!Au

Genre: Fluff, Smut, Angst.

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Very brief mentions of drug and alcohol, Loss of virginity. 

Word Count: 11.8k

Summary: Art and gaming. That’s all Renjun found himself doing. Of course he spent time with his friends, but he had to be dragged away from his games console or easel first. Renjun had been brought up around art, his mother being an artist and his father being a drama teacher. So it wasn’t a shock to anyone when he decided to study art at university. His quiet, shy, nerdy nature meant that he didn’t get much attention when walking around campus, which is just how he liked it. You however, had found him on your first day of university and had stuck to him like glue. He pretended as if you didn’t mean that much to him, but you and him both knew he would be lost without you. Only, you didn’t know he was a virgin. So after you found out about the pact from one of the other boys, you couldn’t wait to intercept his gaming session and quiz him on his innocence. You couldn’t help it, but you suddenly saw him in a different light, one that had your fingers tingling and stomach flipping. The same way Renjun had felt looking at you since the first day he’d met you.

---

Meeting Renjun had been noteworthy. It isn’t every day that you find yourself a best friend upon your first meeting with someone, but with Renjun it had come very naturally. It had started when you’d tripped over the tiniest stick in existence, which you still have no idea how you did that, and had fallen straight into Renjun. It was very cliché, which is the exact reason you picked him to be your new best friend. He had been more than surprised when a beautiful girl he’d never met before flew into his arms and had face planted straight into his chest. After he’d gotten over his initial shock and had straightened you up onto your feet, he’d accepted the bumble of apologies that came flying out of your mouth and was ready to move on with his life. What he didn’t expect was for you to notice the Moomin keyring on his backpack and to spark up a conversation about it that seemed like it went on forever, with you repeating yourself and him just listening. Before he knew it, the two of you had walked around campus twice and he’d found out that your name is (Y/N) and you have a tendency to ramble on about random crap. But he liked to listen to your random crap, and he could see the beautiful friendship blossoming before his eyes.

So you and Renjun soon became close. You learnt his class schedule and forced him to learn yours, so that it was easier for the two of you to spend time together. At first, you had a feeling Renjun wasn’t overly keen on being your friend, but after a little while you just realised he had an attitude where he pretended he didn’t care about anything, since he would start waiting outside of your classroom for you to finish when you hadn’t even made plans with him. With Renjun, came his best friends. Jaemin, Jeno, and Donghyuck. You got on really well with them, but you only saw them when you went over to their shared apartment to see Renjun, or if they invited you to go to the classic American style diner down the road from their apartment. You also learnt a lot about his past. He was born in China but after his father got a job in Korea, they moved over when Renjun was eleven and they’d been there ever since. When you’d heard that his mother was a freelance artist and his father was a drama teacher, it made sense to you. Renjun was studying art and had a natural talent you can only assume was passed onto him from his parents.

You couldn’t even count the amount of times on both of your hands that Renjun had drawn you little pictures of random things. He was very generous with his art and even though you’d never asked him or expected him to draw or paint you anything, he loved to surprise you with a small painting of flowers or a sketch he’d done of you based purely off of his memory of your details and features. His art was hugely impressive, his people skills on the other hand, not so much. He was quiet, and he kept to himself, only spending time with you, or the boys. The more you got to know Renjun, the more you were surprised that he even let you cling to him like you did, but you never once thought that it could be because he formed a crush on you. From the moment that Renjun had laid eyes on you when you bumped into him, he had felt his heart jump on a rocket ship and take flight. He was so smitten for you, but he didn’t want you to notice, so he hid it well and preferred to show his affection towards you in subtle ways, like paying for your lunch, walking you back to your dorm, or drawing you a silly picture of a worm. Even after a year and a half of Renjun feeling that way, you however, had never really thought of Renjun in any other way other than platonic. Of course you thought he was beautiful; he was one of the most beautiful males you’d ever laid eyes on. He had deep brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, a cute little nose and a smile that made you want to pinch his cheeks and coo at him. Which the one time you did, his cheeks went so red that he whined for about half an hour that he was embarrassed.

You were more than happy that the apartment the boys lived in wasn’t too far from campus, it was only a ten minute walk if you picked up the pace and you could stop off at the convenience store on the way to buy snacks. Also it meant that you didn’t have to be in the cold January air for long, which was a bonus. With your backpack now heavier from the soda and snacks you bought, you knocked on their apartment door and waited patiently, rocking backwards and forwards on your feet. The door swung open and a smiley Donghyuck appeared behind the door.

“Hey (Y/N).” He opened the door wide enough for you to step in. You smiled back and quickly took your shoes off in the entrance.

“Hey Hyuck.” You neatly arranged your shoes by the door and pulled off your backpack and winter coat, hanging it up on the coat rack before shuffling through to the living room. As per usual, Renjun was nowhere in sight, but Jeno and Jaemin were sat on the sofas with their laptops on their laps with the tv showing old episodes of SpongeBob SquarePants. They both glanced up when you entered and smiled, Jaemin looking overly smug as he looked at you.

“Well hello (Y/N).” The Jaemin spoke had your eyebrows raising in question at his tone. It sounded like he knew something you didn’t and knowing Jaemin, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Hello Jaemin…is Renjun in his room?”

“Yep.” You quickly rushed to Renjun’s bedroom, not bothering to knock on the door because you knew he wouldn’t hear you knock anyway. Upon entering you saw Renjun in his typical position. Sat in his gaming chair at his desk, playing some random game on his desktop with his gigantic headphones covering half of his head. “Hey Renjun!” You chirped, throwing yourself on his bed. He completely ignored you, too invested in his game to even notice that you’d entered his room. His eyes were glued to the screen and his mouth was popped open in his concentration. “Renjun…Renjun!” You raised your voice until eventually he turned his head, giving you a nod and a brief greeting as he moved his attention back to his game. “Seriously?” You sighed and rolled your eyes. “I’ll be in the living room.” You grumbled and walked out of his room, leaving the door open and making your way back to the living room.

“Hey, guess what.” Jaemin turned his attention to you as you entered the room again and sat yourself down in between him and Jeno.

“What?” You laid your head back against the sofa and tilted it towards Jaemin, getting relaxed and preparing yourself for the dumb thing he was probably about to say.

“So you know how Renjun is a virgin-”

“WHAT?!” You shot up, sitting bolt upright with a look that was a mix of shock and amusement on your face. Jaemin and Jeno both flinched at your loud voice, looking shocked themselves. Donghyuck let out a snigger across the room where he was sitting on his phone. “I mean I had a feeling he was a virgin, but he never told me! He always avoided the topic of girls whenever I brought it up.”

“Oh…anyway now you know,” Jaemin scratched the back of his head awkwardly, as if he’d just let out a big secret that he shouldn’t have. “So we have this little pact going, and since you’re a female and super close to Renjun, I thought you could help him out.” He grinned widely at you, closing his laptop and shifting all of his attention to you.

“I don’t like where this is going…” You narrowed your eyes in suspicion at him, having heard stories about Jaemin’s little schemes that didn’t end up going well and have caused plenty of stories you’re sure that the boys will be telling their grandchildren one day.

“It isn’t bad, don’t worry.” Jeno leaned over and mumbled to you. You let out a small sigh of relief but still held a little bit of suspense inside of you as you watch Jaemin.

“The pact is, we all have to lose our virginities before the end of the year-”

“You’re all virgins?” You titled your head in curiosity, actually quite shocked hearing that these four handsome boys were all virgins still. It was a big surprise to you that Donghyuck was a virgin, as you knew him to have the party boy reputation, and a party where everyone is making decisions under the influence of alcohol and other non-legal substances is an easy opportunity to lose your virginity.

“Yeah, anyway,” Jaemin shook his hand to try and grab your attention back to him as you looked around at the nodding boys. “Like I said, we have to lose our virginities before the end of 2020. You know Renjun really well and we all know how much of an introverted nerd he is-”

“That’s a bit harsh.” You interrupted Jaemin yet again, causing him to narrow his eyes at you. You sunk your head into your neck slightly and giggled. “Sorry, carry on.”

“Anyway,” He out a lot of emphasis on the word, giving you a wide-eyed look that almost dared you to interrupt him one more time. “He’s going to need a bit of help. He’s the only one we’re worried about finding someone to do the dirty with. So this is where you come in!” He patted your thigh and gave you a big, closed mouth grin. “You need to help him get his dick wet.” You felt a bit sad for Renjun. It made you sad that his best friends didn’t have confidence in his ability to get some, because you knew that if Renjun really put his mind to something, he could easily pull it off. Just because Renjun hadn’t had sex yet, doesn’t mean he’s incapable of it. And no, you’d never seen him flirt with anyone, or even lay eyes on another female, or…even show interest in another female…but that doesn’t mean he will struggle to fuck someone.

“He won’t need my help! The school year started two days ago and we’re less than a month into the new year, he has loads of time, there’s no rush.” You shrugged, sticking up for him as he wasn’t there to defend his own honour.

“Yeah we’re just saying that he might need a little…push in the right direction!” Jaemin was clearly only trying to help, so you didn’t get mad at him. Instead you rolled your eyes and patted Jaemin’s thigh.

“Let me handle it.” You pushed yourself up from the sofa and went back to Renjun’s room, rolling your eyes once more when you saw him sat in the exact same position as he was when you’d left the room. Instead of letting him ignore you though, you shut the door behind you, and marched up behind him. “Oi.” You lifted his headphones off of his head despite the little whine he let out. “I heard a little rumour about you Renjunnie.” You whispered in his ear, causing him to visibly shudder. He furrowed his eyebrows and turned off his game, spinning his chair around to face you as you perched on the end of his bed.

“A rumour? About what?” He tilted his head like a curious puppy, his knee bouncing which you had noticed he did as a little habit. One of the things you found endearing about Renjun was that he had a lot of little nervous habits. One of them was he fidgeted a lot, especially when the room was quiet but there was a lot of people surrounding him. Another one of his little habits was biting his nails, which you had reprimanded him for plenty of times, often by smacking his hand away from his face and giving him a glare.

“I heard from someone that you did some dirty dirty things at the new years party.” You winked at him, wondering if he would fall for your little story. You didn’t think it would be fun just to straight up tell him you knew about the pact and his very much still intact innocence, so instead you did what any best friend would do and wind him about it.

“Who said that?!” He frowned quickly, confusion settling over his features. He was wearing an oversized hoodie with matching sweatpants, and he looked far too cute and cosy to have a frown on his face. He slouched further into his seat and spread his legs out further, his habit of manspreading to the max still just as bad as it always was.

“A little birdie told me.” You smirked, putting your elbow on your thigh and leaning your head against your hand. You were trying really hard not to laugh, but Renjun hadn’t noticed that you were just teasing him yet. “Did you fuck someone again?” You titled your head, feigning innocence as his eyes squinted and he looked even more confused than before.

“Again? What on earth are you bumbling on about?” His cheeks were starting to pink up and that’s when you knew you had him where you wanted him.

“Well you’ve fucked someone before, haven’t you? So that would mean if you did it at the party then it would have been again! You following me?” You finished talking with a little giggle, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from bursting out into full laughter.

“I-I…no I haven’t fucked anyone before. Whoever told you that was lying a-…no one told you a rumour, did they?” He raised an eyebrow as he caught onto your lie. He really did know you too well and he could see that you were holding in laughter. “You just wanted me to admit that I’m a virgin!” He stood up quickly and you gasped, knowing exactly what he was about to do. You quickly pushed yourself up the bed to try and escape from him.

“No Renjun I’m sorry no don’t tickle meeeee!” It was too late though, before you’d even finished your sentence, he had cornered you against the headboard of his single bed and had his hands digging into your sides.

“This is what you deserve!” He laughed, not bothered at all about being a virgin, so it didn’t bother him that you tried to amuse yourself with it. If it made you smile, Renjun would do take all the embarrassment in the world.

“Stooooooop!” You squealed, trying your hardest to push him away from you. He laughed with you, eventually relenting and removing his hands from you. He slapped your knee and sat beside you.

“That’s what you get for virgin shaming me.” He sniggered, bumping his shoulder into yours and crossing his arms in his lap. You didn’t notice the way he looked at you with a slight longing in his dark eyes. He yearned for your company; he was just too shy to tell you that all he wanted was for you to be cuddled up in his arms in times like this. He was too afraid to be rejected by you, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep the friendship alive; his awkwardness would play too much of a part and he wouldn’t be able to act like he normally did around you.

“I think it’s cute that you’re an innocent little bean!” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders from beside him and smiled up at him. “I bet you’ll be right kinky little fucker.” You sniggered, noticing how his cheeks went a dark red as he blushed. But he laughed with you despite his mouth popping open in shock. “Spank me daddy.” He gave you a gentle shove and flopped back on his bed, trying desperately to direct his thoughts in another direction at your vulgar saying. He didn’t have a daddy kink, well not that he knew of, but hearing you say something to erotic made his stomach spark up a fire he couldn’t control. He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath and letting out a sigh.

“Gross.” Was all he mumbled, throwing his arms over his face to hide his embarrassment. You looked down at Renjun and felt a strange feeling you’d never felt when you’d looked at him before. Of course you found him attractive, but you’d never found yourself attracted to him before. So why were you suddenly having thoughts about what he would look like with shirt off as you looked down at the soft, embarrassed boy. Luckily, he had his eyes shut and his arms over his face, so he couldn’t see your eyes trailing up and down his body.

“So, Jaemin told me about the pact you have with them. Who are you planning on seducing?” He gently removed his arms and popped open an eye to look at you, not missing the way you wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively.

“I haven’t even thought about it yet.” He shrugged, slowly pushing himself to sit up. You glanced around his room, your eyes trailing over the PlayStation and Xbox connected to his desktop monitor that you’d seen hundreds of times, before moving to the easel in the corner of his room that had an unfinished painting of what you assumed was supposed to be abstract art, as you couldn’t make out what the hell he was painting. His room was super cramped from how much he’d crammed into the small space, but it was cosy, and you’d fallen asleep squished up against him on his single bed plenty of times when he was gaming and you were bored. You loved being in his room.

“Leave it with me big boy.” You winked, patting his thigh, and ignoring the strange feeling you got in your stomach and the small amount of contact.

 ---

“Okay, so I know you’ve probably been anticipating this all week, but I have finally finished my list of ways that you can dip your dick into some vagina okay?” Your uncouth way of speaking had Renjun cringing and lowering his head slightly as he sat opposite you in the Chinese restaurant. Even though you said it quietly, he still went bright red at the thought of someone around hearing you and he nearly choked on his chicken. It was also the way that you had brought it up at the first moment of silence between you two since you’d sat down in the restaurant. You’d previously been talking about how you thought apple music was far superior to spotify, and then after the conversation on that topic was over, you’d swooped straight in with the kill.

“I know you won’t shut up until you tell me, so go for it.” He didn’t voice it, but he hoped that you would be subtle with whatever you had concocted in your own time. You put down your chopsticks to grab your phone out of your bag, quickly opening up your notes and clearing your throat.

“Option number one, go to a party with Donghyuck and find a lovely sober lady to take home.” You had a small nagging feeling in your stomach that was telling you he hoped you said no to all of the things on your list, and you couldn’t tell why you felt that way. He wrinkled up his nose and shook his head quickly.

“I don’t do parties; New Year’s Eve was a one off because it was the turn of the year and Jeno told me if I didn’t go then he’d throw all of my boxers off of the roof.” He said that with a serious look on his face, while you let out a quick laugh at the thought of Jeno doing that to his boxers.

“Okay…that doesn’t sound like something Jen would do though?” You titled your head in curiosity. Jaemin? Of course he would threaten to do that. Donghyuck? Also highly likely. Jeno? Nope. That doesn’t sound like something mellow, go with the flow, and responsible Jeno would do.

“He was already drunk off of wine.” Renjun shrugged, taking a sip of his water, and helping himself to the noodles between you both that you were sharing.

“Oh, wine drunk, okay that makes sense.” You nodded in understanding of Jeno’s actions now, placing your phone on the table so that you could go back to eating. You shoved some rice into your mouth and then read out the next option.

“Option number two, I can set you up with that gamer girl in my class. She’s a bit…out there! But that can be a good thing you know; she’ll probably tie you up and ride you over the rainbow.” You smiled at him as if the more you smiled at him, the more likely it would be for him to say yes. Sometimes you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out off your mouth, and after you heard them in your head after they’d been verbally spoken, you cringed. This was one of those moments. Especially when Renjun paused his chewing and gave you a look that was a mix of confusion and being grossed out. “I’ll take that as a no.” You cleared your throat and deleted option number one and two from your phone.

“How many options are there?” He moved his attention back to his food, leaning forward slightly as he shovelled more food into his mouth in an attempt to avoid commenting on your options.

“Four.”

“It took you an entire week and you only came up with four?!” His eyes flicked back to you in surprise.

“I forgot until this morning all right.” You mumbled and rolled your eyes at your own forgetfulness. “Moving on. Number three, you sign up to tinder.” The thought of Renjun signing up to tinder made you want to laugh but puke at the same time. Laugh because the poor boy had no idea how to flirt, and you could see him as the cringey boy who sent a strange pick up line or commented on something in one of the girl’s pictures. Puke because you didn’t want him to go on a date with some random girl you probably didn’t know. Again, confusion swirled around your head, because you’d never felt like that before, mainly because you’d never had any thoughts of Renjun dating since it wasn’t anything he’d ever done since you’d been his friend. Knocking that thought out of your head you cleared watched his face as he turned his nose up to option number three.

“Nope.” Shaking his head and drinking his water again, he wasn’t prepared for your fourth option.

“Fine! Final option, you make a decent amount from selling your work online, right? Hire a hooker!” He choked on his water at how nonchalantly you spoke those words, coughing and trying to catch his breath without causing other people to look over at you both. “Woah you okay buddy?” You giggled nervously and widened your eyes slightly. “Have a sip of water!” You pushed your own cup towards him and watched as his face went completely red.

“You’re insane.” He grunts out with a groggy sounding throat when his coughing fit had finished, quickly sipping at the water from your cup. “I’m not doing that.”

“Well then have fun finding someone to lose your purity too Mr I’m too good for (Y/N)’s ideas.” You folded your arms over your chest and shrugged, faking offense that he didn’t like any of your ideas. “Don’t say I didn’t try to help.”

“Your ideas sucked.” His words came out in a blunt way, which is what you should have expected since Renjun had never been shy about telling you things the way he saw them.

“Whatever, the only other option I can think of is to just fuck me and get it over with.” You pouted, sulking that he didn’t like your admittedly awful ideas. You did it again, you opened your mouth without thinking and even you were shocked at your own suggestion. Your eyes slowly widened as you thought it through in your head. You didn’t know if you even wanted to go there with Renjun, sleeping with someone is a big step for anyone, especially when they’re your best friend, but there was a small burst of butterflies setting off in your stomach at the thought of it. Renjun looked as if his brain was short circuiting, and his mouth opened and closed as he tried to form the right words to reply to you with. A strange awkward cloud settled over the table, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to take the offer back.

“No, I couldn’t.” He shook his head, gulping as he put the water back on the table, letting his eyes wonder everywhere but at you, causing him to miss the way you visibly deflated at his rejection. He didn’t want to just fuck you, no matter how much he longed to have you writhing underneath him, naked and basking in the glory of his affection. He wanted to hold your hand, give you soft, tender kisses that proved how much you had his heart. He wanted to make love to you and wake up the next morning with the certainty that you were his, and the only person who felt your love was him. So no, he couldn’t just fuck you and get it over with. You looked down at your plate, awkwardly pursing your lips as you wallowed in self pity at Renjun’s rejection. Did he not find you attractive? Did he not like you enough to do that? Did he simply not want to ruin your friendship? You didn’t know, and you were too busy feeling sorry for yourself that you didn’t bother asking.

“Okay cool.” You shrugged, sitting opposite him with a sad look on your face for the rest of the meal, even though it didn’t last long as Renjun hurried to pay the bill, despite your whining that you were going to pay. You both left and instead of going back to Renjun’s apartment like you had originally planned, you told him you were tired and promptly walked in the opposite direction to go back to your dorm on campus.

Renjun groaned as he watched you walk away, feeling bad about the way he had just shot you down without even offering you an explanation for why he didn’t want to have sex with you. But he didn’t have it in him just yet to tell you how he really felt for you, too scared that it would either scare you off, or cause you to feel awkward because you didn’t feel the same way as him. Either way, he knew he was screwed.

---

After a week of punishing Renjun for hurting your feelings, you finally decided it was time to relieve him of your absence. You weren’t so harsh as to completely ignore him, but your texts had been vague, and you had simply told him that you were busy whenever he asked you to hang out. You had a feeling that he knew you were upset, because he didn’t wait outside of your class on a Wednesday afternoon like he did every week, and you knew Renjun well enough to know it was because he was giving you your space. He knew you’d go to him when you were ready. Which is the exact reason you were stood in his doorway, staring at his side profile because as per usual, he hadn’t noticed your arrival, too engrossed in playing call of duty on his Xbox with his headset on. Jeno had let you into the apartment with a kind smile, telling you that Renjun had been whining about missing you all week. You were thankful that Jeno went behind Renjun’s back to tell you that, because it was just more confirmation for you that he did in fact like you and wasn’t just using you as someone to hang out with. You did feel silly for feeling that way, but in the moment of being hurt, you couldn’t help but let your mind drift over to the negative side of thoughts.

You approached him without warning, not noticing as his eyes flicked up to look at you in completely surprise at your sudden appearance. He quickly remembered that he was in the middle of a war and went back to looking at his screen, trying not to make it obvious that his heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he was sure it was visible. You swung one of your legs over his, putting your hands on his shoulders and struggling to sit yourself down. He let go of his controller with one hand and helped you onto his lap, his breath held from how close you were as you snuggled your head into his neck, wrapping your arms around his body and his gaming chair. He wrapped his arms around you, holding his controller behind your back and playing the game over your shoulder. This was the first time that you had wiggled your way into his hold when he was playing his games on his gaming chair, so he was beyond surprised, but elated at how warm you felt cuddled up to him. He held you tightly whilst shooting at random people’s characters on the game, completely silent instead of swearing when his own character was shot.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He mumbled, trying to pretend like it hadn’t affected him. But your absence had his heart yearning for you even more. You just hummed in confirmation at his statement, your hot breath against his neck almost making him sweat from how nervous he was getting at having you where he wanted you. Ever since you’d stumbled into his life, he had wanted to hold you like this whilst he played his video games, loving how it gave you attention and kept you close, whilst he still got to play his games. As you clung onto Renjun, you came to a realisation that you could happily get used to this. It felt strange. You’d never had feelings like this towards him, but as he held you in his arms you came to realise that you were starting to get feelings for him. You knew that it was dangerous. Everyone always says to never fall in love with your best friend, but sometimes you don’t even realise that you’re falling down that slippery slope until you’re already in the deep end.

You heard Renjun put his controller down on the desk behind you before removing his headset, your heart starting to pound as he placed both of his hands underneath your thighs. You gripped onto him tighter as he stood up from his chair with you in his hold. You buried your face into his neck more, smiling to yourself because you assumed he was going to put you on the bed so that you could talk about things. You desperately wanted to ask him why he said he couldn’t fuck you, but at the same time you were scared that you’d hear something you didn’t want to hear, something that would put out the fire of feelings inside your stomach like a bucket of ice cold water. Maybe if things went right you could tell him that you were starting to develop feelings for him, so that the two of you could get control of this situation quickly before anyone got hurt. You also knew that if you stayed quiet about your growing feelings for Renjun and he went and fucked someone else, then you’d be gutted.

Renjun placed you on the edge of his bed and then let go of your thighs, he tried to pull away, but you had a tight grip on him. He moved his hands up and pried your arms away from around his shoulders. He smiled at you softly, reaching out a hand and ruffling your hair before sitting himself back down in his gaming chair. He put his headset back on and picked his controller back up, taking a deep breath to try and steady his heart from how quick it had been pounding when he was touching you. He gulped, fidgeting around in his chair and turning it away from you slightly so that you couldn’t see him as well.

You narrowed your eyes at him, gulping down the pang of hurt you felt at him removing you from his lap and just dumping you on his bed. Not only that, he then went back to playing his game and ignoring you. No boy that liked you in the way you liked them would do that, you thought, quickly standing up and marching out of his bedroom with a scowl on your face. You didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Jeno as you rushed past him, not wanting him to see the tears that were flooding your vision. You weren’t hurt at the realisation that he might not like you in anyway other than platonic, you were hurt that he just brushed you aside and acted as if his games meant more to him than his best friend.

As soon as you got home you muted all his contact on all of your social medias so that you wouldn’t see if he messaged you or not, and then you laid on your bed and sulked, wishing you had an Xbox so you could go on call of duty and kill his character as a way of getting back at him. It was petty, but it was an oddly satisfying way of getting back at him in your mind.

---

It had been another week. You weren’t sure why you were leaving it a week each time before you gave in and let Renjun have his chance of redemption, but it felt like a good amount of time for you to calm down about what had happened. You had cleared your head, focusing on your studying instead of dwelling on your feelings for Renjun, which had stupidly grown over the week. You cursed the first person to claim that distance makes the heart grow fonder, because now you knew first-hand that that statement was correct. You hadn’t read any of the messages you’d received off of Renjun. Not only had he texted you, but he’d sent you snapchats, facebook messaged you, and even came over to your dorm to try and get your attention. When you hadn’t answered the door, he’d slipped a piece of paper underneath your door. It was a cartoon drawing of himself with a speech bubble saying ‘I miss you, I’m sorry for whatever I did’, which annoyed you even more despite how cute it was, because he clearly couldn’t see what he’d done wrong. But you just ignored all of his efforts, wanting him to realise that he had hurt your feelings and you weren’t prepared to just let it go this time. He didn’t get to throw you aside and choose his games over you. Best friend or not, that was super rude in your eyes.

You blamed this stupid pact that the boys had. If they’d never made the pact, then you wouldn’t have been dragged into helping him lose his virginity, then you would have never realised your feelings for him, and things would be how they used to be. But still, things could have ended worse if you hadn’t realised your feelings until after he’d given his innocence away to someone else. Anyway that you looked at it, you just felt like you were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Renjun had yet to notice you, yet again, as you stood in his doorway with a determined look in your eyes. You knew what you were about to do was stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. Yet you knew it would get you the answers that you need to clear your head, and hopefully it would make Renjun realise that you deserved his attention more than his stupid games consoles.

You quickly walked over to him after carefully shutting his door. He didn’t notice you until you were climbing into his lap, his body flinching from how startled he was to suddenly have someone climbing on him. He gulped, just letting you climb onto him, not needing to help you as you moved his limbs around until you were perched in his lap, staring at his face with a slightly worried look on your face. You had all of his attention, his arms tightly around you with both of his hands gripping the controller of his playstation behind your back. All he could hear was the sound of war going on through his headset, because his eyes were now on your eyes, watching them as they scanned his own face. You reached up and slipped his headset from his ears, placing them on his desk before grabbing his face in your palms. He gulped, his lips parting as he tried to find some words, but even a simple hello wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure where he stood with you. The last thing he knew he was in your bad books, but here you are, sat on his lap with has face in your grip.

His eyes widened when your lips planted themselves on his own. His controller fell out of his hands and tumbled to the floor with a clatter, but he placed his hands on your hips slowly and let his eyes flutter shut. His heart was pounding as he realised that the girl he was head over heels for was kissing him. You had a tight hold on Renjun’s face so that he couldn’t feel your hands shaking, but not tight enough that he couldn’t pull away if he wanted to. Your lips moved slowly against his, and to your relief, he moved his lips in time with yours. The kiss wasn’t perfect, but after you found your rhythm with each other, your lips slotted together like puzzle pieces. You pulled away slightly, your lips now resting less than a centimetre away from his as you tried to steady your breathing. Renjun opened his eyes a slither and stared at your lips, gulping in nervousness before placing a lingering kiss to them once more. Your heart almost burst. That small kiss from Renjun had more of an impact on you than the big kiss you had planted on his lips, because he had initiated that kiss, which meant he wanted to kiss you.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did.” He whispered, his thumbs stroking against the material of your hoodie, his touch feeling warm even through the thick fabric. You sighed and pulled your head further away, opening your eyes and looking him in the eyes.

“You can’t even see what you did wrong Renjun, how can you be sorry?” You slowly let your hands trail from his face to rest lightly on his shoulders. He looked taken aback, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of the right words to say to you.

“Because whatever I did hurt your feelings…what did I do?” He tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to rack his brain for the part where he went wrong. His cute expression had your heart soaring, and you were finding it really hard to be mad at him. You were feeling a bit more at ease though, as Renjun had accepted your kiss and had kissed you on his own accord, which in your head must mean that he has some kind of feelings for you.

“We were cuddling, and then you just tossed me aside on your bed and went back to your games, you even turned your back towards me…that hurt my feelings Renjun…you were more interested in your stupid games than you were about me.” You felt slightly silly saying it, especially since your bottom lip naturally pouted itself out like you were a sulking child, but you were glad you got the opportunity to express your feelings to him so that hopefully the two of you could clear the air.

You didn’t miss the way that Renjun’s face went bright red in less than ten seconds, his eyes momentarily widening before he groaned, letting his head roll back as he stared at the ceiling. You raised an eyebrow in confusion at his reaction to your words. He huffed a laugh that turned into a whine, and he raised his head up again, his fluffy brown hair flopping back on his forehead perfectly in place. His face was still burning red and his grip on your hips tightened. “I…oh fuck this is embarrassing…”

“What is?” You titled your head at him, noticing how his adams apple bobbed as he gulped in embarrassment.

“I didn’t remove you from my lap because I wanted to play the games instead of cuddle you. I put you on the bed because you were making…” He took another deep breath and then quickly exhaled and carried on. “You were making me hard, and I didn’t want you to notice. So I moved you and then turned away so you couldn’t see my crotch.” He hands slowly trailed down to your lower back, his fingers lifting up the hem of your hoodie so that his hands were pressed against the warmth of your bare skin. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings; I just didn’t want you to know that I got hard from you sitting on my lap whilst I was playing my games. It was really hot, and I like you a lot, so I panicked and…yeah.” He cut off his own rambling to look at you which he had previously been avoiding as he was explaining his motives to you. Your mouth popped open in complete and utter shock. Of all the reasons why Renjun had done what he’d done you’d made in your head, that was not on the list.

“Y-you like me?” You stuttered out, gulping yourself to get rid of the small lump of emotion forming in your throat. He smiled timidly, nodding his head to confirm your question. “I like you too…oh my god…this is crazy but like…in a good way!” You were struggling to find words, so you simply leaned in and kissed him again, wanting to feel his soft lips on your again. He returned the kiss, basking in the feeling of finally having your warm lips slotted between his own, a fuzzy feeling that felt natural blossoming inside of his chest. The kiss confirmed to you that you did have strong feelings towards your best friend, and you were thankful that you did, because you loved everything about Renjun. Even if he was addicted to gaming and was clearly bad at expressing his feelings. You’d only known about your feelings for him for about two weeks, but they’d been there a lot longer than that, sitting at the back of your heart and waiting for the perfect time to attack you. You wondered when Renjun had come to terms with the fact he had feelings for you. But asking him meant that you’d have to pull your lips away from his, which was out of the question for you. Renjun stopped kissing you, but didn’t drag his lips away far, letting them linger against yours, brushing them with yours as if he couldn’t quite believe that they were there.

“You’ve had sex before, haven’t you?” His voice was barely audible, and you smiled against his lips, placing a very tender peck to his glistening, pouted lips. It hadn’t taken Renjun long to start getting hard, his bulge brushing against your crotch as you shuffled closer to him on his lap, a gasp caught in your throat as you answered him.

“Twice.” You whispered back, your stomach erupting in butterflies as you rocked your hips on him, confirming your suspicions that he did in fact have a hard on. Renjun gulped, his cheeks flaring up as he thought his next words over a few times.

“Wanna make it a third?” Your mouth popped open and you stared at him, completely gobsmacked. Renjun bit his bottom lip, his stomach turning as he thought that maybe he’d said the wrong thing. He thought he’d blown it with you before he even got a chance to really start it. Until you let out a laugh through your open mouth, your eyebrows still raised.

“Huang Renjun! That was so smooth! I’m so proud of you.” You leaned in, licking into his mouth and cupping his face in your hands. He held back the sigh of relief he wanted to let out, instead breathing out of his nose slowly and standing up quickly with you in his grasp, much like he had done the week before. But instead of dumping you on the bed and just going back to his games, instead he threw you down onto his bed and crawled over you, settling his body down on yours gently and bringing his lips back to yours. You were beyond shock at the surprise confidence that was suddenly rushing through Renjun. The normally shy, quiet, and reluctant boy was taking complete control of the situation despite the fact he’d never done this before. You felt pride, and you’d be sure to give him a reward for his courage later on.

You gripped at the back of his t-shirt, bunching the cotton in your hands as you trailed your hands up his back, your lips still locked with his even as you got the shirt to the back of his neck. He pulled away, sitting up on his knees to pull his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You bit your bottom lip as you trailed your hands down his chest to his abdomen, your eyes following your hands as you admired his body. You had no idea how he managed to stay so fit considering all he did was play games, do art, and eat junk food, but he had an impressive body. You let your fingers fiddle with the buttons on his jeans as you lick your lips, moving your eyes back up his body and seeing that his eyes were locked on your face, his bottom lip stuck between his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, leaning down and kissing your cheek gently. “I’ve wanted this for a long time.” You noticed his adams apple bob as he gulped, and then all of a sudden he just completely froze, his eyes still as he looked down at you.

“Renjun…?” You sat up in concern, taking his face in your palms and stroking your thumbs against his hot cheeks. “Are you alright?” You pecked his parted lips slowly, letting your lips linger as your thumbs worked small circles on his smooth skin. He cleared his throat, snapping out of his daze and nodding his head.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine I just…what if I’m no good?” His voice was small, and his hands came to rest on your hips. You smiled, holding in your giggle as you dipped your head down to kiss at his throat, swirling your tongue around the spot that you then attached your lips to.

“No ones a porn star on their first attempt, and you know that I won’t judge you anyway.” He seemed to relaxed under your touch and then his hands pushed against you, forcing you to lay back down on the bed.

“Tell me what to do.” He whispered, his cheeks a vibrant red as he stared down at you waiting for instructions. You bit your bottom lip, knowing you had him completely under your thumb, but you didn’t want to push him too far and ruin it for him.

“How about I give you some options and you pick whichever one you want to do?” He nodded quickly in agreement, a small smirk playing on his lips that were a light red from how much you’d kissed them. “Hang on.” You sat up again and pulled your sweater over your head, throwing it on the floor with Renjun’s t-shirt and trying not to smirk at how wide his eyes went when his eyes zoned in on your bra. “You can touch them.” He didn’t need anymore prompting, his hands quickly trailing from your hips to your breast, his hands cupping them and giving them a small squeeze.

“Wow…” He whispered in awe, licking his lips, and bumping his bulge against your crotch to try and get some friction to his growing cock.

“Okay so these are the options, first of all, do you want to do foreplay or just jump straight in?” You didn’t know if he could last until the actual fucking if you did foreplay, but you really hoped he said he wanted the foreplay.

“I want to do foreplay…can I eat you out…please?” You raised your eyebrows as he had clearly picked which foreplay he wanted before you even managed to give him his options.

“Since you asked so nicely.” You bit your bottom lip, watching his every move as he shuffled down the bed, laying on his stomach with his legs hanging off the end of the bed. You leaned forward and unclipped your bra, pulling it from your chest and playfully throwing it onto Renjun’s head. He paused as he laughed softly, your bra covering his vision momentarily until he threw it on the floor. His tongue ran over his lips when he saw your boobs for the first time.

“Wow.” He whispered in awe, shuffling back up the bed and hovering over your body. “Can I?” He swallowed the saliva that had pooled in his mouth from his mouth watering at the sight of your chest.

“You haven’t got to ask for anything Renjun, if you want to do something, do it.” He made eye contact with you, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded in understanding. His tongue poked out and flicked over your left nipple, his eyes closing briefly as he swirled the wet appendage around the hard nub, covering it with a thin coat of his spit. His lips encased your nipple, sucking it until his mouth like it was going to give him something in return. Your breath left your lungs at the spark that rushed through your body, his tongue still working on your nipple even as he sucked. He reached up and pinched your right nipple gently with his hand, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger before flicking it quickly. You knew he’d seen this in porn, otherwise he wouldn’t have done it with such confidence. Even though porn wasn’t the best educational way to learn how to fuck, you thanked it in this moment, because it was really paying off. You ran your hands through his hair, gripping it tightly and pushing his head south softly, trying to hint that you want him to use his tongue where you needed it the most.

He seemed reluctant to let go of your nipple, but he did in the end, releasing it with a pop and licking down your stomach, pressing kisses along the way until he came to the waistband of your leggings. He glanced up at you with questioning eyes, you nodded as encouragement and then felt his fingers slowly peel the waistband down your legs. “Fuck.” He mumbled upon seeing your blue lace panties. He had the picture engraved forever in his brain and he knew later on he would have a good attempt at drawing what he’d seen. But the drawings would be for his eyes only, and maybe yours depending on how well they resembled you.

You didn’t want to rush him so just watched as he pulled your leggings off of your legs, pulling your socks off with them and placing a soft kiss to your left ankle. He swooped down after tenderly placing your legs over his shoulders, getting himself comfortable on the bed with his face in front of your spread legs. He leaned in, dragging his tongue from your hole to your clit over the top of your panties. His eyes flicked up at you, watching as you took in a sharp inhale of breath, your own eyes locked on him with your mouth parted. He slowly rubbed you over your panties with two of his fingers, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he concentrated hard, also slightly in disbelief that he was doing this to you of all people.

“Take them off.” You breathed out, feeling like the material was suffocating you in your want, your need. He wasted no time in complying to your demand, tugging them down your legs and leaving them to lay beside him on the bed. His eyes widened at how your pussy was glistening with slick, and a sense of pride washed over him because he knew that he caused it.

“Shit.” He mumbled, not thinking about his actions before diving his tongue in between your folds, lapping at you like you were a melting ice cream in the summer heat. “Oh fuck.” Your head flopped backwards onto his pillow as he messily ate you out, his tongue travelling up and down, round and round, visiting your clit before meandering back down to dip inside of your leaking hole. “Use your fingers.” Your back arched when he cautiously slid his middle finger inside of you, his hips subconsciously grinding into the bed to release some of the pressure on his hard cock.

“Like this?” He pumped it in and out of you, his tongue pushing against your sensitive clit at the same time.

“Yes! Fuck another!” You didn’t realise how loud you were being, but Renjun wasn’t about to tell you, his pride in what he was doing clouding his mind to the point where he didn’t care who heard. He slid his ring finger in beside his middle finger, sitting up on his knees and leaning down to connect his lips to yours, his tongue clashing against yours in a heated kiss as his fingers pumped in and out of you. He moved to lay beside you, your feet planted on the bed and his lips now on your neck as he worked magic with his fingers. If you weren’t so lost in the feeling his was bringing down on you, you would question whether or not he was really a virgin, because he was making you feel so good with truly little instruction. “Jun stop, I’m gonna cum if you don’t.” You grabbed his wrist, your chest rising and falling fast as you tried to catch your breath and steady the rhythm of your heart. He halted his actions and leaned in, pecking your lips quickly.

“Was it good?” He shyly asked, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he withdrew his fingers from you, examining the juices coating his fingers and palm, a small bead dribbling down his wrist. You nodded, not being able to speak properly just yet as you tried to will your orgasm back into its hiding spot. “You’re so wet.” He whispered in surprise, his eyes then going back down to your face. “Can I fuck you now?” He was beyond horny, the pressure in his crotch area almost hurting as he used his fingers to pop open the button on his jeans, sliding down the zipper and diving his wet hand inside his boxers to squeeze at his erection.

“Please…wait don’t you want me to suck you off?” You felt bad at not giving what you’d received, but Renjun sat up on his knees again, positioning himself between your legs.

“If you touch my dick I will cum, and I want to cum inside of you.” He quickly rose from the bed, turning his back from you as he went to his desk, opening up a drawer and pulling out a silver packet. He pulled his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion, his back still turned away from you so you didn’t get to see his cock yet. He rolled the condom on his length, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself as he pumped himself a few times. He then turned around, trying not to cower underneath your sultry gaze that soon fell from his face to his cock. You knew he was nervous, and he was still your best friend, so you winked at him.

“Nice cock.” You spread your legs wider as a silent invite for him.

“Thanks.” He chuckled, his face beet red and his hair looking like a bird’s nest from how your fingers had ruffled through it. He clambered onto the bed, moving so that he was hovering over you with his left hand planted on the bed next to your neck. He used his right hand to grip at his shaft. “I love you.” He whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss so sweet to your lips that you almost melted through his bed. You heart felt like it was swelling up in your chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping his lips close to yours.

“Love you too Renjunnie.” You whispered back; your words mumbled into his lips as he guided his cock inside of you slowly. He paused halfway, taking a deep breath, and then exhaling through his nose to try and compose himself. Once he was fully inside of you he leaned down and tucked head into the crook of your neck, laying gentle butterfly kisses to your skin, breathing in your scent and waiting for you both to adjust.

After a minute he gently pulled his hips back, then pushed them against you again, his cock sliding in and out of you in a steady but gradual rhythm. He groaned into your neck, feeling an unimaginable amount of pleasure buried in your warm, wet walls. He’d jerked off a lot of times throughout his years, but that felt like nothing compared to how you felt around him. His cock felt so snug inside of you, like you were made to fit him inside. You panted, closing your eyes and wrapping your legs around him, your hands moving from his neck to grip at his hair once again, tugging it softly to cope with the pleasure you felt every time his cock would push back into you.

His hips sped up, the sound of skin slapping against skin resonating around the room as you started to lose control of your vocal chords, your mouth spilling moans as you bucked your hips up into his, looking for more even if what he was giving you was more than enough. “(Y/N), fuck baby girl.” He moaned loudly, pushing up onto his arms so he was staring down at you, his eyes boring into yours as his hips moved at a different angle, hitting a new spot inside of you that had your eyes almost rolling into the back of your head. “I can’t hold on much longer.” You were happy he was admitting it so that you didn’t hold back on your own orgasm, wanting to cum around his pulsating cock inside of you. The dirty thought had your back arching, your hands moving from his body to grip at the sheets of his bed, looking for something to squeeze as the pressure you felt building up inside of you was so astronomical you felt like you were going to burst. His thrusts became sloppy as his peak came closer, sitting back on his heels more and gripping at your hips tightly.

“Renjun harder!” You squealed, your thighs quivering and toes curling as he delivered three hard thrusts that had you moaning out loudly, your orgasm crashing into you like a wave of lava consuming your body. You were actually surprised that he’d managed to make you cum before he did, considering he was the virgin and you knew it was rare for you to climax so fast. There was just something about Renjun that had your nerves on fire, your body reacting to him like nothing you’d ever felt before. He stilled completely, his fingers digging into you so hard you were certain they’d leave little sore spots where fingertip shaped bruises would arise. He stomach flexed as he came into the condom, the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock being enough to force him over the edge. He grinded his hips into you a few more times, slowly as he head fell back onto his shoulders, his hair sticking to his forehead and his mouth parted as he tried to regain his regular breathing.

“Fuuuuck.” He groaned, slowly coming back to live on your world again and looking down at you with lazy, half closed eyes. He had a dopey smile on his face that told you he was still on cloud nine, and then reluctantly he pulled out of you, flopping onto his back beside you on the small bed, your shoulders pressed firmly against his. You had recovered from your orgasm, watching him as his eyes slowly closed and struggled to reopen.

“Hey,” You whispered, rolling onto your side and leaning up on one of your arms. “We need to clean up.” You placed a gentle peck on his still parted lips. He groaned, giving his head a small shake. You rolled your eyes and sat up, letting him get away with being lazy since he’d just lost his virginity, but next time you weren’t going to let him get away with it. “Fine.” You slowly stood up, wobbling slightly on your legs and having to grip onto his bedside table for stability for a moment. You grabbed some tissues and wiped yourself off your own mess, discarding of them before grabbing more tissues and wiping Renjun clean of any mess, also removing the condom and throwing it into his waste bin. By the time you’d finished cleaning the two of you up, you noticed that Renjun was completely dead to the world, his chest moving slowly as he slept. You rolled your eyes and giggled, pulling a blanket over the top of his naked body, and kissing his forehead affectionately. You pulled on your bra and panties, throwing on the biggest t-shirt of Renjun’s that you could find in his wardrobe before leaving the room quietly, shutting the door gently to not disturb him.

You walked out into the living room, on your way to the kitchen to get yourself a drink when you came across the wide eyed, shocked, yet oddly smug faces of three boys, staring directly at you. You froze, a guilty smile on your face because you completely forgot that Renjun shared the apartment with his best friends. You also thought about how you must have looked, your hair a mess and your skin still slightly glistening from the sweat you’d accumulated from fucking Renjun.

“Hi…” You broke the silence, slowly shuffling towards the kitchen but keeping your eyes on them. It was Jaemin who spoke up first.

“You know, when I said you needed to help him get his dick wet, I didn’t mean for you to be the one who wet it…” Jeno slapped Jaemin on the shoulder for that remark, but you sniggered and bit your bottom lip, your cheeks heating up as you realised that they must have heard most, if not all of what you’d done.

“You should have been more specific Jaems.” You shrugged, walking off to the kitchen and leaving them to talk amongst themselves.

---

“What’s bothering you Renjun?” You’d been sat with him at the local diner, a bowl of nachos in between you both but Renjun had hardly touched them, instead fiddling with a napkin, and avoiding your gaze. Renjun glanced up and gave you a small smile, picking up the milkshake that you were both sharing and taking a sip of it through the straw. You’d spent the night with Renjun, sleeping on his chest on his small bed and cuddling him all night. You felt like you were living on a magical cloud and no one could bring you down. You’d also spent the morning with him, and he’d been strangely quiet, just cuddling with you on his bed and watching Netflix until your stomach rumbled and he dressed you in some of his clothes and marched you down to the diner.

“Nothing is.” He shrugged but you knew he was lying, his eyes still avoiding your own. You knew him too well though, so you knew that something was definitely playing on his mind.

“Is it because we fucked last night?” Renjun nearly choked on the nacho that he’d put in his mouth as an attempt to distract you from thinking something was wrong with him. You smirked, seeing that you’d got it right on the mark. “Do you regret it?” You gently rubbed your foot against his own as you sat opposite him in the booth.

“No!” His eyes widened as he hurried to reassure you that he didn’t regret what happened. “Babe no, I loved it, it was amazing…I just…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath, and running a hand through his hair nervously.

“What is it?” You gave him a smile of encouragement, hoping he wasn’t about to tell you that he didn’t want to do it again.

“You give me a funny feeling in my stomach.” He looked down at the milkshake glass in his hands, trailing his fingers up and down the condensation as his cheeks turned red. You felt your own cheeks start to burn at his confession, and you laughed awkwardly.

“That could just be the milkshake.” You mumbled, shoving a nacho in your mouth, and watching him intently.

“I’m being serious. You give me this feeling that I’ve never felt before and I’m fairly sure that it’s the feeling people get when they look at someone they love.” His words had your heart pounding, and suddenly you had no appetite. You knew what the feeling was, because you felt it whenever you looked at Renjun, whenever he smiled, or said something really smart that went straight over your head.

“I feel the same way.” You reached across the table and took his hand in your own, gently rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand.

“Do you…oh god this is so awkward, and I’ve never done this before but…do you want to be with me? As my girlfriend?” He looked nervous, as if you were going to shot him down like a pigeon in the sky. You broke out into a big smile and giggled in your own nervousness.

“I would love to be your girlfriend.” You squeezed his hand, trying to stop yourself from squealing from how giddy you felt in that moment. Your best friend was also your boyfriend, and from that moment you would start a new chapter in your relationship with Renjun.

Later on that evening Renjun had convinced you to let him draw you. You felt silly, and you knew for a fact you’d find it hard to stay still the whole time considering he wanted to draw your whole body. But since he asked so nicely, and had begged about sixty times in an hour, you eventually stripped off completely naked, and laid on his bed for him. You laid on your side with your head resting on his pillow, your right arm tucked under the pillow as you faced him. He was sat in his gaming chair, his glasses perched on his nose and his sketchpad in his lap. He kept poking his tongue out in concentration and would tell you off every time you moved.

“So, I know you spoke to the boys earlier on when I was in the shower,” You smiled at him, trying your hardest not to move as to not get scolded by him again. “Did they say anything about us?” Renjun looked up over his sketch pad and cleared his throat, giving you an awkward laugh and nod.

“Of course they did. First off, they congratulated me for losing my virginity first, they also said they were super shocked, which I’m not gonna lie, kind of offended about that.” He laughed, which told you he was only joking, and he hadn’t actually taken any offence to their words. “Then they said that they’re happy for me that I have finally asked you out and yeah that’s pretty much it.” You bit your bottom lip, smirking as you looked at Renjun, his eyes trained on his art and not looking at you as he worked on a certain part.

“Renjun…” You called out, parting your legs and trailing your left hand down your body, cupping your heat and rubbing your fingers over yourself slowly. He looked up and then looked back at his art, realising what he’d just seen and quickly looking back up against to take a second look.

“Holy…” He trailed off, gulping as he watched you rub yourself, your bottom lip between your teeth. “I know you’re trying to seduce me so that we can fuck but…I haven’t drawn your lower half yet and I would really love to draw you exactly as you are now. So don’t move!” His face was red, but he looked like an excited puppy. You groaned, you eyes rolling and you cursed yourself for having an artist as a boyfriend, because now he was finally in a sexual relationship, he could unlock a whole new level to his art that he’d never been able to before.

“Haung Renjun, you better fuck me so good after you’re finished drawing or I will rip it up.” Your threat left a wide grin on his face, and you knew this was going to be an incredibly fun chapter in your life.

Hello! I hope you enjoyed the first instalment of The Virgin Diaries! I didn’t proofread the smut scene so sorry if there’s any grammar or spelling errors there, maybe one day I’ll go back and proofread it but don’t hold your breath. Let me know what you think and if you’re excited for Jeno’s part (he’s next). Love you!

[thetravelerwrites]

Urgan (Orc)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Male Human/Male Orc Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Orc, Male Reader, MLM, Gay Reader, Football Captain, College, Friends to Lovers Content Warnings: Alcohol Poisoning, Children, Kids, Pregnancy, Unwanted Pregnacy, Mention of Abortion, College Drop-Out, Strong Language, Drug Use, Angst, Super Angst, ALL THE ANGST Words: 4385

A super duper angsty commission by the wonderful @severedreamerbeard​​! Urgan is the captain of his college football team and all around cool dude. He's an extremely reliable guy with his whole life ahead of him... until the woman he's been dating winds up pregnant, which turns his entire world upside down. The reader, Urgan's best friend, tries to help as much as he can while watching Urgan's life fall apart. Please reblog and leave feedback!

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Urgan had been your best friend since preschool. You were human and he was an orc, but you were both jocks growing up, both in sports, both athletic. He’d been there with you through all the major events in your life. He was there when your parents divorced, when you came out as gay in middle school, and when the teammates who had once been friends started bullying you because of it. He was always there.

You hoped you had been as good a friend to him as he had been to you. You were there when his dad died, when his mom remarried someone he hated, and when his highschool sweetheart cheated on him. After all that, the two of you were closer than brothers.

College life was easier on both of you. You both had gotten a sports scholarship and found a friend group that was a lot of fun to hang out with. Parties were epic, classes were less so, but you were living the life and loving every second of it.

Then it changed. Not for everyone, not even for you. Or at least, it didn’t have to. You could have made different choices. It would have been far easier if you had, you were sure. But…

“How long have you been dating Kelly?” You asked him over a beer. The two of you were sitting out on the front porch of a house party currently in full swing.

“Who?” He snorted, half-asleep. He’d pulled an all-nighter the day before preparing for his psych exam.

“Kelly,” You said, pointing into the open door at the girl wearing a halter with a half-empty vodka bottle in her hand, some of which she’d spilled on her chest, grinding on another girl who was sucking the vodka off of her clavicle.

“I wouldn’t say we’re ‘dating’,” He replied, throwing back a large swig of his beer. “Fucking, yes. I’m not trying to date anyone right now. I don’t have the time.” He threw his beer bottle into a large trash barrel and stood up. “Where’s Derek? He owes me fifty bucks.”

“For what?” You asked, standing up and following him through the house. He slapped Kelly’s ass as he passed her on the way inside, and she laughed.

“I borrowed it to buy coke three weeks ago,” He said.

“Didn’t he almost OD?” You asked.

“Yeah, but that ain’t my fault, I want my money,” Urgan said, muscling his way through the crowd.

“Don’t be an asshole, bro,” You said, still following him.

“I’m not being an asshole! It’s not like he learned anything, I bet you five bucks he’s doing coke right now.”

“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet,” You laughed. “I don’t know of a time when he’s not on coke. I think he was high when we first met.”

“That’s my point. You know I’m cool about that stuff normally, but it’s affecting his performance on the field,” Urgan grumbled. “I’m team captain, and if he doesn’t straighten up, I have to kick him off the team, friend or not. We lost to E.U. because of him.”

You grimaced. E.U. had been your school’s rival for generations. The loss hurt and was a huge blow to Urgan. It didn’t help that it was televised nationally.

“If you kick him off the team, the other guys will be pissed,” You reasoned.

“I know that,” He said grumpily. “But managing the team internally is my job. If I don’t do something about it, coach will either demote me or kick me off with him for not handling it when I should have. I can’t afford to lose my scholarship over some douchebag’s coke habit.” He made his way into the garage at the opposite end of the house and smacked a seated Derek on the back of the head. “Hey, Derek! Money! Now!”

“Dude, back off!” Derek protested. “I’ll get it to you when I get it, damn!”

“Not good enough,” Urgan said, kicking the mirror that was in front of Derek. Powder went flying.

“Hey!” Derek said, standing up and taking a swing at Urgan. Urgan ducked and caught Derek’s arm, pinning it behind him. He was always quick.

“Quit the coke or quit the team,” Urgan said, snarling. “We’re not losing another game because you’re too high to play.”

“The fuck are you talking about, man?” Derek said, struggling. “Don’t blame that shit on me! It’s not my fault you can’t organize your team!”

“I’m serious, dude,” Urgan said, pushing Derek to the ground. “I’m not getting punished for you. Straighten up or fuck off.”

“Suck my dick, asshole,” Derek said. He jerked his chin at you. “Or get your boyfriend to do it.”

Words like that were water off your back at this point, but it always riled Urgan up. You could already see him tensing.

“Let it go, dude,” You said, pulling him back. “Derek, seriously, you’re bringing the whole team down. Lay off the drugs, at least until after the championship.”

“Get the fuck out of my house if you’re going to act all high and mighty,” Derek said, pushing past you. “And you can forget that fifty bucks. It’s all over the ground now.”

Urgan’s fists were balled up and he was breathing hard.

“He’s not going to stop,” Urgan said.

“Come on, dude,” You said, smacking him on the shoulder. “You’re not going to accomplish anything here. Take it to the field. Show him why you’re captain.”

“I guess,” He said. “I’m hungry, man, let’s grab something.”

“Sure,” You said. “Kelly’s coming over to your place after the party, though, right?”

“Yeah, but she won’t be any shape to do anything but sleep. She knows where the key is, she’ll be fine.”

Finals were coming up, and most people were holed up in their rooms or dorms studying. Urgan was a decent student and never really worried about tests, though you hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days, which was odd. He could have been working a lot; he had a part-time job to pay for his own studio apartment. He said the dorms were too small for him.

“Urgan? No, I haven’t seen him in a week.” Joey said. Joey was a coworker from the bar where Urgan worked and also an ex-boyfriend of yours. You bumped into him at the university’s library while looking for Urgan. Urgan hadn’t answered his door when you went to check on him, so you figured he had to be here.

“Is he sick?” You asked, taking out your phone. You’d texted him awhile ago and you saw that he had seen it, but he hadn’t responded.

“I dunno,” Joey said. “All I know is that he asked the boss for some personal time. It could just be finals getting to him.”

You frowned. “Hmm… I’m going back to his apartment. He’s never been this quiet before. Something’s not right.”

“Tell him to come back to work. All the girls try to flirt with me when he’s not there. I need him to be my shield.”

You laughed and waved him off, heading out.

“Urgan!” You called, knocking insistently on his door. “Open the door! Are you alright?”

No answer. Frustrated, you got the spare key that was hidden in a slit of the doormat and unlocked the door. His apartment was dark and looked normal. Urgan was a fairly tidy guy, and nothing was really out of place.

“Urgan!” You called again, walking around the partition that obscured his bed. There he was, passed out on top of his blankets. There were empty bottles of liquor everywhere. Your heart stopped.

“Oh, fuck, please don’t be dead,” You said, crawling on the bed to slap him in the face. “Urgan, wake up!” His skin was cold, which scared the shit out of you, but after a minute feeling for a pulse on his neck you found a heartbeat, and you could see him breathing very slowly, so at least he was alive. But he wasn’t responding to your attempts to rouse him.

“Shit.” You took out your phone and called and called emergency services.

“911, what’s the nature of your emergency?”

“Hey, I need an ambulance, I think my friend has alcohol poisoning.” You said quickly, hoping it was intelligible, and gave them the address.

“Okay, sir, how long has this been going on?”

“I’m not sure, I just found him. I haven’t heard from him in days. He’s got a pulse, but he won’t wake up.”

“Is he cold to the touch?”

“Yes.”

“Is he breathing?”

“Slowly, but yes.”

“Can you make sure his airway is clear?”

You put the phone down and opened his mouth. There didn’t seem to be anything in the way.

“It’s clear,” You said.

“Alright, sir, I’ve got an ambulance on the way. Do me a favor and turn him on his side and bend the leg that’s on the top. Keep his airway clear and keep an eye on his breathing.”

“Okay,” You said, doing as the operator said and trying to keep calm.

The ambulance arrived within minutes, and after several moments of the EMTs attempting to wake him and failing, they loaded him in the rig. You were able to ride with him to the hospital. They took you both to a room, and you stood back as they began hooking Urgan up to all sorts of tubes and wires. They put a tube in his mouth because his breathing was weak and slowing down. They put him on a heavy saline drip and debated whether or not to pump his stomach. Eventually, they left him to rest and you sat with him.

“What the fuck is happening with you, man?” You asked him quietly as he slept.

Eventually, you fell asleep, and when you woke up, they were taking the air tube out of his throat. Urgan was awake and groaning in discomfort as it was removed.

“Dude, what the hell?” You said, standing up.

His eyes were bloodshot and he looked extremely sick, but at least he was awake. He waited for the doctors and the nurses to leave so that it was just you and him before he answered you.

“Kelly’s pregnant,” He said hoarsely. “It’s mine. She’s sure of it.”

“Oh, shit,” You said, sitting back down in the chair next to him. “I thought you used protection.”

“I do,” He said in frustration. “The condom must have broken or something. She told me she was on the pill. I don’t know what happened. I’m so fucking screwed.”

“You may not be,” You said, trying to comfort him, but you knew he was right. Being team captain meant that you put the team before everything. If you had another priority, you couldn’t be team captain. Not to mention the scandal of having a kid during the height of his college career would destroy his reputation and make him seem irresponsible. A baby right now was going to ruin him.

“Don’t bullshit me. I can’t show my face at school. Coach is going to kick my ass as soon as he finds out. My life is over.”

“Don’t talk like that, man,” You said. “What’s Kelly saying about all this? Has she told anyone?”

“No, not yet,” He said, covering his eyes. “Well, she hadn’t when I started drinking, but I don’t know if she has now.”

“She wants to keep it?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get farther than ‘I’m having a baby and it’s yours’. And then I just started drinking and didn’t stop.”

“How far along is she?”

“Three months, she said.”

“How does she know it’s yours?”

“I was the only person she was sleeping with at the time. We were thinking about dating seriously, but it didn’t work out that way.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I don’t know. We’ll find out, I guess.”

You frowned deeply. “She’s… been partying pretty hard in the last three months.”

Urgan rubbed his face. “I know. I’m scared shitless the kid is going to be born fucked up.”

“Do you… think you can talk her into giving it up? For adoption, I mean? She doesn’t seem like mom material.”

“I don’t know,” He said. “I don’t know what she’ll do.”

“What about…” You hesitated to mention it. “What about an abortion?”

“That’s her decision,” He said vaguely. “It’s her body.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

“No, don’t,” He said. “I’ll do it when I’ve got my head on right.”

“Dude, look where you are right now,” You said, gesturing vaguely. “Let me at least call her.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

You took Urgan’s phone, which was in his back pocket when he was brought in, and called Kelly. She was surprised to hear about Urgan’s condition and said she’d come up to the hospital.

She arrived an hour later and you gave them some privacy to talk. It was a while, so you went to grab a soda. When you came back, Kelly was leaving with tears on her face. You went in and saw Urgan sitting up in bed. His eyes were red from crying.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

“No,” He said, wiping his face and sniffing. “She’s going to keep it. I’m leaving school.”

“What?” You said, coming around. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m gonna finish out the semester but I’m leaving before the baby is born. I have to find a better job. I’m hoping I can come back when the baby is a bit older, like when they start school or something, and finish my degree.”

“But you only have a year left! Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“No!” He shouted. “I don’t want to leave school! I’ve been dreaming of this scholarship since I was a kid! It was my dad’s dream! But I’m not going to be a deadbeat! I have to find a decent job before the baby is born. I don’t have a choice.”

You were stunned to silence and just listen to him breathe through his tears.

“Are you and Kelly staying together?”

“Fuck no,” He said vehemently. “We both know that would be stupid. She’s going to stay in school as long as she can. She’s supposed to be due in winter sometime, so I should have enough saved up by then to give her for the baby, to make sure they’re comfortable.” He scowled. “I’m sure Derek is going to be thrilled. I can just see the look on his face now.”

“Don’t worry about that jackass,” You said. “Dude, I… Is there anything I can do to help out?”

He shook his head. “Kelly and I are going to keep this quiet until the end of the semester so that we don’t have to deal with anyone bullshit. After that, we’ll start telling people.”

“You’re not going to tell your mom?”

“Not yet. I can’t face her yet. She’s going to be so disappointed in me.” His tears began to fall again, and all you could do was put a hand on his shoulder and be there for him.

“I won’t say anything to anyone,” You told him. “I’m still your best friend, no matter what. If you need anything, you know I got you.”

“Thanks, man,” He said, his voice breaking.

Urgan finished out school as he planned, barely scraping a passing grade, and then notified everyone that he wouldn’t be returning. As expected, his coach was furious, his mom was disappointed, and the team was dumbfounded. Derek was the only person who seemed to be enjoying the situation.

During summer, he asked for an amniocentesis, both to prove whether or not Urgan was the father, and also to check for any genetic conditions, since Kelly’s family had a history of genetic diseases. Urgan was hoping that she was lying about only sleeping with him around the time she conceived and that he would wind up not the father so he could go back to school, but the test was conclusive. The baby was his.

Urgan found work pretty quickly at a seafood processing plant near town. It was grueling work and it didn’t pay much, but it was a full-time job and had healthcare benefits, which was the best he could hope for in these circumstances. He began saving immediately to buy clothes and diapers for his kid, which he recently found out was a little girl, and was in frequent contact with Kelly. He didn’t attend any of the doctor’s visits at Kelly’s request. Not that he wanted to be there in the first place.

You continued with college and partied like a normal college guy, stayed on the football team, and was promoted to captain. Urgan seemed happy for you and gave you pointers on leadership. If he resented you for it, he gave no sign.

Many of Urgan’s old friends, mostly team members, dropped him immediately. They no longer invited him to parties or events, and when you mentioned inviting him, they shot you down. As far as you knew, the only one who still stood by him was you, and you couldn’t be there as much as you wanted to as you now had responsibilities with the team.

Even still, if he called, you dropped what you were doing and went over. You promised you’d be there, and you were going to keep that promise. He was your best friend and you were going to stand with him. No matter what.

Urgan’s daughter, Roga, was born in November. She was small, even for a half-orc. You were there in the waiting room for the birth with the grandparents. It might have been your presence that stopped them from being at each other’s throats; the animosity in the air was palpable. Kelly’s dad was there, looking not-best-pleased at Urgan’s mom, despite her being nearly twice his size, but no harsh words were said.

Urgan came out in the full paper surgical outfit, holding the baby. He even seemed happy.

“Here she is,” He said, holding her out for the grandparents to see.

“Oh, isn’t she precious,” Urgan’s mom, Reana, said. “She’s got your eyes, Urg.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling. “She looks a bit like dad, don’t you think?”

“She does!” Reana said brightly. “That nose definitely looks like his.”

The grandparents took turns holding the baby, and then went in to see the mother.

“Hey,” Urgan said to you, the only one left in the room. “Do you want to hold her?”

You chuckled nervously. “I dunno, man, I’ve never held a baby.”

“Neither have I, before today,” He said. “You don’t have to. I just wanted to offer since everyone else got to.”

“Yeah, but they’re family.”

“You’re family, too,” He said, looking at you like you were being an idiot.

You smiled a little and held out your arms, and Urgan carefully lay the baby into them. She was small and squishy and her face was all wrinkly. Babies all looked like potatoes to you. But she reached out and yawned and grabbed at your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s cute,” You said, letting her grip your finger.

“Yeah,” He said, grinning.

“How’s Kelly?”

“She hates my guts, but she’s okay.” Urgan reached out to take the baby, and you handed her over. “I should take Roga back. The lactation specialist wants to work with her.”

“I didn’t know there was a such thing as a lactation specialist,” You said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” Urgan said. “The last nine months have been extremely informative.”

You snorted. “I bet.”

He took the baby back to Kelly and you sat in the waiting room, feeling a little awkward. Why were you here? You weren’t really family. You knew you were supporting Urgan, but… he didn’t really need you there right now. He seemed fine. Happy even, considering the circumstances. Maybe… maybe you should go. You really didn’t belong here.

You texted Urgan to let him know something had come up and to call you if you needed him, and he told you that it was okay, and to be careful going home. As you left, you sighed in relief. But you also felt a little guilty.

Six months later was graduation. You finished top of your class and made valedictorian. You knew that if Urgan had still been in school, he’d have gotten that honor, but…

Urgan didn’t come to graduation, and you understood why. Kelly crossed the stage and accepted her diploma, and you couldn’t help feel a little resentful at her, despite the fact that it wasn’t her fault that Urgan wasn’t there, either. They really had done everything they were supposed to do--used protection, used birth control, was careful--but things just happen sometimes. Even still, it felt like Urgan was the one who had sacrificed the most and had gotten nothing in return.

You managed to get a job at an accounting firm almost immediately after graduation. It was a boring job but the money was good. You were hoping it would be a stepping stone to a better career later.

Since getting the job, you hadn’t really seen or spoken to Urgan much. You were still his best friend, but… you had your own life to live. You felt guilty about it, but your world couldn’t stop just because his had.

Urgan was still working at the fish processing plant, working long hours to support Roga. Urgan was basically paying Kelly’s rent and bills plus everything Roga needed for both homes, since he took her on the weekends from Friday night to Monday morning, when he dropped her off on the way to work.

However, a month after graduation, Urgan called you in a panic.

“Kelly’s gone,” He said. “She’s left. I got a text from her saying she’s gone to Canada.”

“What?” You asked in disbelief. “Did she take Roga?”

“No, I’ve got her here.” He said, his voice shaking. “When she texted me, I was scared she had run off with the baby, but she left Roga with her stepdad. I just picked her up and I’m bringing her back home with me.”

You felt terrible for hoping Kelly had taken Roga with her to Canada. Even though you knew it wasn’t Roga’s fault, all you wanted was for Urgan’s life to go back to normal. You just wanted him to have the things he should have had if Roga hadn’t been born. And you hated yourself for thinking that.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” He said. He sounded extremely distressed. “Can you meet me at my apartment, please? I need someone to talk to. You’re all I have left.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there,” You said, picking up your keys.

“Thank you,” He said, and then hung up. He was audibly crying.

You made it to Urgan’s apartment before he did, and you saw him step out of the elevator carrying a ton of baby stuff in one arm and hauling Roga in her carseat in the other.

“Can you take her, please?” Urgan said. He looked pale and in shock.

“Yeah, of course,” You said, taking her carrier and looking inside. She was sleeping with a stuffed griffon clutched in her baby hands. “Is she okay?”

“I think so,” He said, unlocking his door. His apartment was strewn with kid stuff. It was so much different than the last time you’d seen it.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” He said, dropping the load he was carrying in the middle of the floor.

“Dude, I don’t care about the mess, are you okay?” You asked.

“I…” He ran his fingers through his hair. He was visibly shaking. “I don’t know if I can do this alone. I had accepted being a dad, but I don’t know if I can be… the only parent. I… I don’t know any babysitters for when I’m working. I don’t… is she off breastmilk? When was her last check up? When is she supposed to see the doctor again? Kelly didn’t tell me those things because I.. I figured she had it handled. I was making sure they had everything they needed. I didn’t think I’d…”

“Okay, calm down,” You said. “Roga is fine. You can find all of that stuff out. I’ll help, I’ll help however I can, okay?”

“Okay,” He said, sitting on his couch heavily. “Okay.” He reached down into her carseat and unstrapped her, putting her against his shoulder, clutching her as if she was a warm stone and he was freezing. He was certainly shaking like he was.

This was the first time you’d seen Roga since she was born. Now that she’d had a chance to grow, she did look a lot like Urgan. It made you feel worse for resenting her.

“Look, can you watch her for a few minutes?” He asked suddenly. “I’m almost out of formula and I didn’t expect to have her right now. I was going to go Thursday to stock up. I don’t want to run out.”

“I…” You hesitated.

“Please,” He begged quietly. “Please. Ten minutes. I promise.”

You sighed. “Okay.”

He transferred Roga from his shoulder to yours. Uncertainly, you gripped her firmly.

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” Urgan said, and he was out the door.

There was a rocking bassinet near Urgan’s bed behind the divider, and you settled Roga in it, staring down at her peacefully sleeping form.

“I wish I didn’t hate you,” You told her, tears welling up in your eyes and falling down your cheeks. “But you took everything from him. I know it’s not your fault, but it doesn’t change anything. He’ll never be the man he should have been because of you.”

Roga sighed in her sleep and snugged into her bed without waking. You did nothing but sit on Urgan’s bed and stare at her the entire time Urgan was gone, allowing yourself to hate her and Kelly and the team at school and everyone who turned their back on Urgan when he needed them the most. When Urgan returned, your tears had dried, and you left.

Roga was still sleeping.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[beautifulletdownfics]

Nothing To Him - A Harry Styles One Shot

Harry Styles is a liar.

He lied your whole relationship.

He promised to love you forever and then he walked away.

A lovers to nothing break up fic feat. blisters, heartache & two sides to one story.

Word count: 15k (Sorry! You’re going to want to open this little pal in a browser window probably. Eek)

Story Playlist:

The First Lie: Damn This Love - Thirsty Merc The Second Lie: Do You Remember - Jarryd James The Third Lie: Nebraska - Oh Wonder The Fourth Lie: I Saw You - Jon Bryant The Fifth Lie: Here We Go - Emily Hearn The Sixth Lie: Crying Dancing - Nina Nesbitt , NOTD

+

MY MASTERLIST.

+

The first lie was that you were different.

Harry felt different with you.

You just slipped into his routine and his life. You didn't buy into the spectacle of it all. You told him on your first date that you didn't play games, and that it wasn't often you connected with someone on an intellectual or emotional level. Harry sat there and listened to the woman across from him say she didn't expect to finish the date still attracted to him.

And he fucking loved it.

The next morning he called you at quarter past eight, because he figured you either started work at eight-thirty or nine o'clock, so he'd catch you on your commute or just before you walked into the office. You answered your phone like you would a business call. He teased you for it, but really he was just glad you answered at all. It felt like getting test results telling Harry he was in the clear.

The truth was when Harry first met you at the birthday party the night before he'd been angling towards you being a hookup. He saw you across the bar as soon as he arrived, gaze zeroing in on your legs in That Dress, his ears leaning to the sound of your laugh pulling eyes from around the room. Harry wanted you, and he'd been through a bit of a dry spell. You radiated the kind of energy Harry could get drunk on, the sort of body he wanted to lose himself in for a night.

It was almost an hour before he managed to edge into the same circle of bodies as you. You knew the birthday girl the same way he did; through work. Harry caught early on that you didn't still work for his record label, but did a few years before and stayed in touch with everyone. You seemed like the kind of person who collected people, who everyone wanted to keep in touch with. Harry just wanted to touch you.

Two tequilas in he got you to himself.

You were good at flirting, which excited Harry initially. You had a quip for everything or an interesting addition to each story he told. You were well-read and well-travelled, and you weren't hesitant in showing Harry that you had opinions and ideas of your own. Over the years he'd become good at getting people to talk, good at asking questions that make someone share themselves because the alternative—Harry sharing himself—wasn't something he could do. But something about you and the way you framed questions made Harry feel like it was safe to share a little more, you'd disarmed him quietly, and by the time he noticed Harry didn't feel the need to protect himself anymore.

"That's bullshit," you'd told him when he said he wasn't all that into contemporary fiction. You hated the artsy elites who listed off the Hemingway's and the Kerouac's and the Vonnegut's as though the only literature worth mentioning came from lifetimes ago. Your hair swished back and forth at your cheeks as you shook your head emphatically, "You're being lazy. Imagine saying the same about modern music."

Harry's lips ticked up into a smile, and he raised his eyebrow in concession, "That would be bullshit," he agreed, thinking of the album he'd just released and how he wanted to know if you'd listened to any of his stuff. (Very quickly he decided he probably didn't want to know because it stuck Harry the answer would be no.) His eyes couldn't pull away from watching your lips as you spoke, admiring the shade of lipstick you wore.

"Right," you continued, "Modern fiction teaches me about myself, about my life. It gives words to what my friends and I are experiencing. The classics are amazing—don't get me wrong—but I don't see myself in them."

"Seems like your criteria stem from narcissism," Harry was sure he had you there. He grinned at you happily.

"Exactly," you agreed without hesitation, "Maybe 'Hills Like White Elephants' is genius, and as a woman, I should be grateful to Hemmingway for horrifying his audience in 1927 with a normalised view of abortion but … I don't think he wrote that for me. He was challenging ideas then. I feel more connection and loyalty to an Instagram poet who's painting the world that actually matters to me, the world I'm trying to survive now."

Harry hums into his drink and says nothing. He expects you to back away a little, or ask him some question that watered-down your view and opened up the table to his. But you don't. You let your view sit on the slice of the bar between you and don't apologise for it.

"There's a reason artists burst out of every generation," you add, sitting forward on your stool. "If the classics were the perfect form, the perfect commentary of humanity, then there'd be no need for anyone after them to bother trying to put the world and life into words, or pictures, or music. You can't just dismiss a generation of voices because some smelly, old, white, university hasn't decided to name a building after them yet. I don't think being published as a little orange Penguin Classic is the singular hallmark to good literature."

He didn't entirely agree with you, (he thought it was vital to learn from the past, thought those great authors you reeled off and dismissed set the benchmark artists today should aspire to) but Harry liked hearing your thoughts and seeing the passion burst out of you. He liked seeing how you didn't second guess yourself or try to soften your opinion by asking for his. You just said what you thought, and that was always one of his favourite characteristics in a person.

That night you met him, you were the designated driver for a few of your friends. He should have noticed the way you switched to pineapple juice after you finished your first drink, but he was too busy trying not to look at the curve of your thigh when you crossed one leg over the other. Trying to ignore the smell of your perfume or how you kept licking your lips and he wanted to taste them, desperately. Harry didn't like to say anything when he offered to buy you another gin and dry. Still, when it eventually came out in conversation—that you were strictly only having one tonight—he felt his excitement deflate. His warm buzz suddenly felt pervy and presumptuous.

"Well, that's bloody annoying, isn't it?"

His response surprised you, "Me getting my friends home alive?"

With his hand comfortably resting over your knee, Harry shook his head, "I was hoping to go home with you."

"Oh."

You blinked at him, not having expected him to be so bold. You didn't hate it though, you felt the twinge of realising you were going to miss something that could have been good. Could have been great, probably. The last time you had sex had been … sad. And disappointing. Still, you hadn't come out to meet anyone tonight, why the sudden rush of despondency? These were old work colleagues you rarely saw, and you figured it would be a night of catching up before six months of not seeing each other because life got in the way.

Then Harry asked for your number. Asked if you'd go out with him the next night. He didn't beat around the bush with it, he wanted to see you again and told you so. The way you said you would filled him with relief but also fear. Harry knew he'd need to really deliver with you, he couldn't half-arse it. He was terrified he'd overshoot it and lose the change to be someone who impressed you.

He settled on a Sunday evening picnic where the two of you ate takeaway on a beach towel at the top of a park halfway between your houses. Something told Harry you would be happier with him underplaying the date than you would be getting taken to an expensive, showy restaurant. You wore jean shorts and a long sleeve jumper which churned his body more deeply than the dress with the split from the night before. He was hooked.

"Do you not like olives?" Harry asked, sucking the oil off his fingers after just depositing one into his mouth. You instantly loved the way the inflection of his words rose at the end of his sentences, and you'd mock him for it your whole relationship.

You looked at the plastic container sitting between you, you'd been picking at the cheese and crackers, the antipasto was not your thing, "They don't seem like something humans should eat … Salty and rubbery with a tiny stone on the inside? No, thanks."

A laugh burst out of Harry's mouth as he picked up another green olive, "More for me then."

"I'm happy about the rosemary in these though," you held up a cracker before digging it into the hummus, a plastic-stemmed wine glass with a dry rose in your free hand, "You got the fancy ones."

"Only the best," Harry returned with a smile and then went on trying to playfully wedge more information from you about the secret poetry Instagram he was convinced you had. He was already feeling buzzed from the wine, but more from the way you kept looking at him and he couldn't catch a hint of you being anything other than yourself.

You didn't go home together that night either, despite The Kiss at the end next to his car. Despite Harry's hands on the back of your thighs as things got heated. The way the tips of his fingers feathered against the elastic of your knickers, just slipping under before pulling away. Your chests heaving together in a rhythm you'd never found with anyone else.

He felt like he had just auditioned for a part he wasn't sure yet that you were going to give him. Wine always heightened his anxiety, so Harry also wanted to appear controlled and measured. He wanted to be as thoughtful as you were. As connected to himself as you were to all your wonderful opinions and facts. There was some part of him that feared taking you home too soon might risk that being the only night Harry got. So he pulled away, kissed your cheek and promised to call you later on.

Somewhere along the line, Harry decided he wanted more than a little bit. He was greedy. Harry wanted the whole pie all to himself.

That was a theme, him wanting more. Even now, months since you've seen or heard from him. Harry always knew how to get you to take that one step out of your comfort zone, take that little bit extra risk. Letting go of him in one way felt like small release valve finally letting go. A tiny bit of your safety net tucking closer around you. A little quiet moment to take stock and check every part of you was still connected, still there. A deep breath in. A short pause of calming silence. Like getting your heart back … But then finding it didn't fit in your chest the same way anymore.

So you found it particularly cruel to have received a follow-up email from his assistant this week, checking to see if you were able to attend his show tonight.

The show that six months ago Harry drew you a mock ticket for and hand-delivered to you sitting outside in his garden with a tea and a biscuit. Even then, even as his girlfriend, you'd feigned not knowing if you could say whether you would attend. Now it felt foreboding, the way you'd pulled your features together thoughtfully and told Harry you'd have to see closer to the date. You waited just long enough for him to switch over into thinking you were serious before you laughed and told him of course and where else would I be?

Where else would I be, was right, in a sense. Because this is still your city, and you're here tonight. It's not his anymore. He moved soon after you broke up … Relocated to one of his—what was it you used to mockingly call them?—" location" homes. Houses you never saw in person. Places he never took you. Either Italy or France. Somewhere he could hide, be creative, recenter himself. All three of those things filled you with dread for different reasons.

Were you really going to go tonight though? Walk in through the front door of the venue with a ticket and barcode on your phone, sit in a crowd and listen to Harry for two hours? Look at him from across the room and just take it on the chin?

It certainly seemed you were dressed for it. And you were out of the house with time to get there. Would you get off the train at the stop though? Would you walk down the street with the bright sign his name lit up? Would Harry even know if you didn't go?

Part of you wonders if his assistant didn't mean to email you. Maybe she forgot you were no longer in Harry's life? Perhaps it was a scheduled email she forgot to stop? Probably it was Harry just being fucking nice, and polite, and worrying about how you'd feel if you were uninvited. Or if he didn't check in on you while he was here.

You accepted the reminder too easily and scolded yourself for it. His team was expecting you. Harry was expecting you. And now, sitting on the train and counting down the stops you felt caught. Felt like he had you again, even if it was just winning whatever tonight was.

Harry did always enjoy the chase. Admitted it himself, admitted to loving the beginning of meeting someone. Loving the audition process, the figuring each other out, the get. The Catch.

You wonder now if it was the chase he liked back then. Was it a thrill having you make him feel as though he had something to prove? Or was it Harry experiencing for the first time not having the upper hand, not having even the tiniest amount of weight around who he was count for anything. Now it felt like Harry was nothing but upper hand.

Whatever it was—the Chase, or your endless facts, pancakes on a Sunday morning—the part of Harry's lie about you being different that hurts the most is the way you bought into it so proudly. Wore it later as his girlfriend like a badge of honour. As though it signalled to others you'd been hard-won, and Harry was lucky to have you.

Different turned out to be such a dirty word.

Different turned out to mean nothing. To get you nowhere.

All different got you was Nothing To Him.

+

The second lie was that he saw a future with you.

Harry didn't shy away from talking about it. He made plans for you both.

Sometimes it was in the moments right before you both fell asleep at night, or in the final seconds before the kettle finished boiling. Always in some small window where his mind drifted and sat comfortably stagnant when all there was to think about was the next holiday you'd take together. Or what breed of dog you might have one day. Whether you wanted your kids to be close together in age or have larger age gaps between them. What you thought about silent retreats in Thailand.

He stored your answers away in the file full of you in his head or added them to the note on his phone with ideas for gifts for people or things going on in their lives he wanted to remember.

"My family have always had cats," he told you one night, fingers drawing circles around your bare kneecap, your naked thigh resting across his stomach, "When I'm settled I'd want to get a few of my own."

It was one of those hot summer nights no position felt comfortable for sleep, you raised your arms up over your head and stretched out further on the mattress, fingers dangling off the edge of the bed to feel the cold stream from the air conditioning unit above, "I don't trust cats. Isn't there something about them being evolutionarily build to hunt their owner?"

Harry turned his head to face you, "A fact for everything," he recited fondly, his common quip for your always having an answer for everything, "I'll let the cats hunt me, you'll be spared."

"As long as I can name them," you murmured, your eyes finally closing.

Close to three months later, an hour into unsuccessfully putting together a flat-pack shelving unit in Harry's garage, you heavily plopped yourself down on the concrete floor and hailed defeat. You tossed the small, silver Allen key onto the floor in Harry's direction and rested your chin in your palm.

A few minutes of watching his embittered attempts passed before he spoke.

"Hey Sulky, I can feel you looking at me," Harry was frowning at the short piece of timber in his hand, he was holding it next to what was supposed to be the base of the structure. This was your second attempt at pulling apart the shelves and starting again while you cursed the entire Swedish furniture empire. You were enjoying seeing Harry's stubborn frustration immensely.

He could be such a man sometimes.

"Yeah, 'cause you're hot," you said, mocking him dreamily.

"Ha ha," he drawled, rolling his shoulders back to try to regain his focus.

When he paused a moment later and looked up at you, his arms dropped as his brow softened and he let out a breath.

You grinned at him, "I'm pretty cute too, right?"

"All this shit is going to end up living on the ground because you're sabotaged the assembly!" He gestured wildly at the tools and spare paint colours for the house lying around you. His bike parts and the weird assortment of garden tools Harry collected were leaning against the wall waiting to be put on their new home as well, the shelf neither you nor Harry were skilled enough to put together.

"Baby," you began, but Harry waved you off, and you saw genuine frustration start to emerge on his face, "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry," you stressed, "Are you sure we're looking at this thing from the right way around? Maybe the designer meant for it to be wonky?"

He rolled his eyes at you. As if the mere thought anyone would design anything to look like the mess currently on the floor was purely preposterous—his temper for small frustrations on full display.

"Don't be rude!" You admonished, "It's a fucking shelf, we can do this, Harry."

It took you another hour and a half, but when it was done, Harry draped his arm around your shoulders, kissed you on the head and told you that you were the person he wanted by his side of all his future crisis. Someone to say to him, whatever the challenge was, it wasn't beyond him, wasn't something he couldn't handle or wasn't capable of.

You felt like you were floating that night.

It was one of those few times you could see your imprint on his life. See some evidence of it. There were shelves in his garage only there because you told him he needed storage there, and then you pushed him to keep trying assembling them. It was some proof you'd been in his life. An impression of your influence. A memory that would hover in his garage forever.

Two days after putting the shelves together, you and Harry had an argument about the plastic tubs he went off on his own to buy for all the loose bits and pieces he wanted to go on the shelves. You were annoyed he didn't purchase wooden ones, and he couldn't understand why it mattered that they were white plastic which would apparently be impossible to keep clean.

It's a garage, he thought, who's cleaning their garage?

And because arguments always dredge up things that they aren't supposed to, you made a jab about your relationship being secret.

You said something like, If I'd been able to come with you, we wouldn't be having this row!

Harry knew what you really meant straight away. You'd been together for more than nine months at that point, and nobody knew about it: nobody but your families and very very closest friends. There were no photos of Harry having lunch with you at a cafe, or of you walking a few steps behind him at the shops. Nobody had snuck a picture of you backstage at a show of his. He'd never appeared on your social media, even by suggestion, and Harry had never taken the risk including you on any private Instagram Stories.

Those photographs didn't exist, because those circumstances never had. There wasn't even a celebrity paper trail linking you to knowing Harry, let alone dating him. Harry didn't dedicate performances to you, or even to an unnamed significant other. You never got a song or an album dedication. Harry was so adamant on nobody getting wind of the relationship that sometimes it felt like … Like he enjoyed the sneaking around. The having a secret. (Later on, when you reflected on the relationship once it was over, you really weren't sure how there'd never been even one instance of you being seen coming or going from Harry's house. Hindsight made that feel suss to you.)

Most of the time you liked it, though, liked not having any fuss or interruption to your life but sometimes—a lot of the time—it felt like something silently eroding you from the inside—a silent acid eating your spirit.

But you'd never tell Harry that. Then anyway. Now … You're not sure what you'd tell him now.

The truth was a lot of the time you weren't sure how you'd managed to keep it going so long. Part of it was obvious, maybe, like not being in public together. But still, surely after being together months and having arguments about shelves you could afford a platonic appearing coffee trip or going for a run at the same time, together?

Instead, you'd gear up and run in opposite directions down his street. Or Harry would stay in the car while you went in for the coffee. You'd sit in a nosebleed seat if you went to a show, sneaking through some fire exit and into the main hallways of a venue with the public to get to it. You looked like a sad woman attending a gig on your own, not the girlfriend of the star.

Nobody would know you even knew the man up on stage. That you had something in the slow cooker at home for you both to eat when you got home, or that he'd stolen a tube of your favourite lip balm and had it in his blazer pocket for his set. Nobody would guess you made him late for the soundcheck with just a smile and the undoing of a zip.

Seeing him tonight would be just like it always was, you and Harry from across the room. But then not like always, because Harry wouldn't see you tonight. You wouldn't have the taste of a good luck kiss on your lips. Or the sound of Harry's warm-up in your ears. Yours was always an invisible connection that was kept invisible by design, and now being broken up, it looked no different than together. Not really.

Tonight though it would only be you seeing Harry. Like you see him on late-night talk show promotions and billboards. Like the times you get into an Uber, and his song is playing. How strange it feels, to have your heart crack in your chest again while also lifting somehow. Singing along with a song about you. Or hearing his laugh or even just Harry speaking, and being able to picture the exact expression that would go along with it.

Every raised inflection. Ever breathy giggle. Every brow crease at a thought that Harry was chasing or somehow unable to articulate. All of those turning into you picturing what he looked like every time he knew he was disappointing you. Every whined sorry and all the instances of him loving on you to move your mind away from his deficiencies.

"What's the plan for Y/N?"

If your relationship with Harry was a t-shirt, that would be the slogan across the chest. Those would be the words under the cartoon impression of you banging your head against a wall Harry's standing on the other side of.

How will Y/N get in? Who's staying behind with Y/N? Where will I meet up with Y/N?

There was always a question. Always a plan for you and it was decidedly separate to the plan for Harry. His team organised a second car or an earlier flight for you. A back entrance or some other smokescreen to keep you concealed. In the beginning, it felt like a kindness, but in the end, you were embarrassed by it. The bother, the way what started as a careful consideration for your wellbeing turned into something rotten that painted you a different colour to Harry and his public inner circle, the circle you were never invited or initiated into.

It was exhausting. But Harry assured you it was for the best.

You wonder what the future he saw for you really was though. How much further did Harry see a life like that going? A life with you perpetually operating under cover of darkness. A life of you decidedly not existing. Not really.

So when he said he saw a future with you, you're really not sure what Harry meant.

Did he mean one day he saw himself lifting the veil and telling the world he had a Someone? Or did he mean that he saw himself forever hiding you, forever living that lie?

Maybe he actually saw nothing.

Sometimes you could be convinced the fact Harry hid you was an action pointing to a more profound truth.

That the future he saw was an imagined indulgence; a convenience, and a comfortable lie. Comforting on a temporary level, like bowling alley bumper rails or the plastic covering on a new watch face. The fake sense of security—of protection, of immaculacy—was just that, artificial and temporary. It ceased to exist the minute you plucked the corner and pulled back the protective layer. Crashed as soon as the bumpers were flipped down.

You were a secret only Harry had any power over. He led from the front because you didn't know there was any other option. And in letting yourself be that, you made yourself easily dispensable.

Disposable. Replaceable. Erasable.

Which is precisely what happened when he left.

Harry left, and the You of the two of you ended. But more than any other relationship ever could, the silence that followed felt deadly. It wasn't just a relationship that once was, it was a relationship that never was. A year of your life made no imprint on his. Nobody looking at him could know there was anything—anybody—missing, and maybe that was the whole point.

Maybe that was the design of it.

+

The third lie was that you could tell him anything.

Harry's golden rule always was honest communication.

There's no such thing as an overshare, he'd say when you naturally hesitated.

He was all about that. All about hearing what was worrying you, or the mundane things that were going on in your world. Sometimes you felt like maybe it was an act because nobody had ever found your family, or your friends, or your life in general as interesting as Harry seemed to. He was always telling you he loved hearing the funny text conversations going on, or who was having a row and why, or what each of your friends was stressed about in their jobs or relationships or themselves. And Harry always said he loved hearing it from you the most.

(Now, that struck you as a strange thing to say. Where else would he hear anything about you? Harry was the only line connecting you back to him. You didn't have mutual friends or people who'd known you both before you dated each other. There was nobody for Harry to hear anything from. It's not like your friends were going to reach out to him with gossip about you. Not like how you could sneak a look at update accounts or read about his performance online while he was away.)

Still, you loved the stories he told from the road, ate them up. The missing coffee mugs where everyone got their caffeine fix served in wine glasses and lemonade tumblers for almost two whole weeks. And then the tour t-shirts accidentally ordered in bulk in children's sizes that Harry hand-delivered them to a local children's charity. The crumbs of gossip Harry picked up about who in his team was sweet on who (he loved a setup, loved watching crushes silently and awkwardly orbit around each other).

Your secrets were safe with him, he promised. He wouldn't ever judge you. Wouldn't dismiss your feelings or what kept you awake at night next to him. So you did it. You believed him. And you slowly drained everything inside of you into him. Harry got all your stories, even the ones you vowed to leave exactly where they sat in your past. Even the ones you felt like might kill you to dredge back up. The ones that made you look like a shitty friend or sister or daughter. He got them all.

And even now, he's still got them.

"What's the biggest lie you ever told?" He asked you one night in his kitchen, both of you elbow deep in making dinner. Harry rolled out the lines of gnocchi and cut the inch long pieces while you pressed them over a fork to decoratively indent them. (Although Harry likes to tell you how when he was in Italy he learned in patterns weren't just aesthetic—it was all about soaking up more of the sauce, For the sauce, of course! He'd sing out in an Italian accent, proud of himself.) "Like, a proper lie," he clarified, "Not like how you told my mum you didn't take sugar in your tea when you first met her."

You hinged your knee out to attack his calf for the teasing comment but then rolled your lips together in thought, "I lied to my parents a lot growing up," you told him honestly. "I think about eighty per cent of the time I wasn't where I told them I was. Definitely wasn't with who I said I was with."

Harry shook his head as he rolled out the next lump of dough, "No, I mean like … Like a lie."

A moment passed as you thought more deeply about the question, travelled around your memories until you landed somewhere suitable, "I lied to my boyfriend at university," you begin. "A pretty bad one, I guess."

"And the lie was …" Harry prompts.

"I told him I was a virgin before him."

Harry eyes raised, and then he nodded, accepting it, "I think that's probably a common one, really."

"I thought he'd like me more if I said it," I admitted quietly, pausing the work with your hands. "Wasn't too proud of losing my virginity in a tent in the sixth form … And I mean, at that age you just so desperately want to be the version of you that you think the people around you will like the most. A whole group of us went camping at someone's grandparent's farm during the summer holidays. Not sure how our parents let us, to be honest. Anyway, I had awful, painful, embarrassing sex in a tent with a guy named … Dylan Fraiser."

You were surprised by how long the name took to come to you. Years ago, that was such a defining event in your life. Now it hardly mattered at all anymore.

Progress, you thought.

"A tent," Harry winced.

"Really came back to bite me in the arse when my uni boyfriend went on to tell a group of his mates he was my first and—

—Tent Guy was one of them?" Harry guessed. Correctly.

"Yep. Small towns are a curse."

"I promise never to have sex with you in a tent," Harry teased, grinning at you over his wine glass and then leaning over to kiss your temple. He looked down at the line of gnocchi pieces you'd made together proudly, "We're alright at this."

"Hmmm," you hummed, now lost in the past, "I told that uni boyfriend him I loved him … I didn't though," you say without thinking, shrugging as the words came out, "I thought he was boring. But it was cool to have a boyfriend, so I didn't break up with him … Guess I've told more whoppers than I thought."

Harry gives you an understanding look, "I've said I love you to protect someone's feelings too. Thought it might come a little later, that I was just not feeling it as quickly as them."

It should have made you question whether Harry meant I love you with you. But it didn't. He was speaking in the past tense, and you were imaging that version of him being younger than the almost thirty-year-old you were dating. Now though … You wonder what love meant to Harry when you were together. Whether your wires were crossed by different definitions. Even now, you couldn't vilify him. Not completely. He was too thoughtful in general, there'd be a reason for it. There always was with Harry.

"What's your biggest lie?" You turned the exercise back on him, smiling as he refilled your wine glass and skipped a few songs on the playlist. These were your favourite moments with Harry. The end of the day, where you were the only thing on his to-do list. There wasn't a lingering work call, or a meeting to prepare for, an email to reply to. Harry was just finishing his day with dinner and some time at home. With you.

Harry gave you a withering look, "I think you know already."

"I don't," you said because you really didn't, "What was it?"

"There's no way I'll ever do anything else with The Band," he said tonelessly as he turned to rinse his hands in the sink, unable to look at you while he said it. And even then, Harry didn't admit to the lie. Didn't name it. He just said what the truth was instead.

"Why wouldn't you?" You asked, instead of what you were sure Harry thought you'd ask.

You weren't interested in why he told that particular lie though, the answer to that was pretty apparent to you: he cared about his fans—they all did—and didn't want to disappoint them. And they probably hadn't been able to deal with thinking about the ripples ending it completely, right off the bat, would have caused. Saying you were taking a break was a much nicer way to let a world of fans down. An easier pill to swallow than 'We're done' straight off the bat.

You gave Harry time to respond. He fiddled with the gnocchi pieces in front of him, waiting for the water to boil in the pot behind you both, "Not sure, really."

He was lying now, and you could tell. He was ashamed of the truth.

"You're not sure?"

"I just wouldn't, there's no one reason. No big thing. It's not like I hate them all or anything, I just …"

There was one big thing, though. And it was typical Harry to not be able to name it. He was always so in denial about his own arrogance, about what it was that drove him. Harry thought he was above them. His success since The Band far outweighed anything any of the others had done. Going back to that would be diminishing for Harry's career. Wouldn't help him any. He was stronger on his own, more successful. More widely appreciated. That chapter of his life was done, it had been a stepping stone—yes, a life-defining one—but Harry had moved to bigger and brighter stages on his own.

"It's not what you think," he told you lowly when you didn't ask anything further.

It was so typical of Harry to not see the forest for the trees. To not see how he, yet again, was blurring and confusing the lines between a business decision and an emotional, personal one. He was speaking about The Band emotionally, but his reason for distancing himself from it was all to do with business.

"It's not?" You asked plainly.

"I don't think I'm better than them or some shit," Harry said, "I just … That part of me is done. I'm not who I was back then, and I don't want to go back to that person."

"You also wouldn't get anything out of it," you prod, knowing that you shouldn't have. But it was true. So much of Harry's life was a business decision. Everything was so carefully done, so deliberately set into place by him and his team that results and his successes were almost guaranteed.

At the time, you didn't understand how he couldn't see it. Or you couldn't believe that he didn't. He was so calculating, and he hated you telling him so. But he was. He liked to say he wasn't defined by his job, but Harry's whole life was defined by his career, by the who he was.

He loved to spout off his public shit about staying grounded and having a life away from being Harry Styles ™, but he didn't let anyone see even a skerrick that life. The only thing Harry ever let be projected about him was his job, that was all was ever on the table for discussion. And so it was hardly surprising that became who he was away from the cameras and lights as well.

Hiding you was a business decision, you figured out in the aftermath of The End. It was his way of keeping the narrative about his music and career on track. As soon as there was a You, Harry's private life would distract from his real focus and goal, his career. And you mean, it's not like it didn't work for him. Because here you were, standing outside in the chilly night looking at his name up in lights.

Harry's name always looked so good up on billboards and the fronts of stadiums. You always used to tell him even the letters of his name were visually pleasing, they looked good together, like they fit. So you stand on the street across the road from tonight's venue and take it in—HARRY STYLES, SOLD OUT—for several minutes.

You don't know that you're ready for this. Seeing him. You've so perfectly avoided it until now. Until you felt like there was a promise you made lifetimes ago you now can't break. Even if you felt like he'd broken a thousand promises between the two points in time.

Where else would I be? you'd said when he first drew that stupid mock ticket.

Where else, indeed.

You scuttle across the street and sneak between people to get yourself in through the doors. Dodging lenders selling merchandise and ticket holders excitedly covering their painstakingly planned outfits with t-shirts Harry—aided by his perfectionism, you were sure— probably spent months deciding on.

The barcode won't scan though. And the usher at the door doesn't appreciate you pulling your phone back and trying to adjust the backlight, as though that will help the loud, angry sound his scanner is making each time he aims it at the email on your screen. He eventually reads part of your email and then tells you that you need to stand off to the side, barks something gruffly into his walkie talkie and dismisses you in favour of getting through the backlog of people behind you. You're filled with a white-hot embarrassment as you shuffle over and stand under a neon EXIT sign. A moment later you step forward and ask him to try again, but that doesn't get you anywhere different, and you think you're going to get in some kind of trouble when he insists Just stand back over there for a moment.

Your feet have already started hurting in your too-tight boots when finally the wall behind you opens up, and you very quickly come face to face with Harry's assistant.

"Y/N," she smiles, "I thought I said in the email to call me when you got here?"

You're dumbstruck, you didn't read the email, not properly. "I … I …"

"It's good to see you again," her smile hasn't moved, and it's genuine. She reaches one hand out towards you and deposits a VIP lanyard around your neck, "Follow me."

You get halfway down the emergency exit, and she sidesteps a security guard through a doorway, leading you into the veins of the backstage area where there's a familiar buzz of busy people you'd not realised you missed being around until now. Your heart is racing because you weren't prepared for this. You'd been deliberately dragging your feet getting here, and you've arrived barely fifteen minutes before Harry's due to go on stage. She's walked you right to the side of the stage where there's a curtain just to your left and scaffolding all around. You can hear the audience, and you know that one step through that curtain will take you to the pit side of the stage, where you'd seen Harry's family stand during shows before.

"He wanted to say hi beforehand but," his assistant looks at her watch, "But it's a touch too close now so are you okay if I leave you here for just a second? I'll be back in …" her eyes go back to her wrist, "Probably about twenty-five?"

"That's fine," you nod dumbly. "Are you sure this okay?"

You're looking around wondering if this is where Harry meant you to be. Really, you're sure this isn't where he intended you to watch his show at all. A few people are milling around but nobody you recognise, and you figure the majority of them are probably venue employees. Harry and his band would only walk through here at the very last second. He didn't like standing around beforehand with anyone who wouldn't be on stage with him. Harry got in his zone and needed to stay there.

When you look back at his assistant she's giving you a look you don't want to read too deeply, but it almost looks like pity, "Of course," she tells you, "I'll be back by the end of the first song."

"I might go stand through here now," you point to the curtain, preferring the thought of standing in the dark by yourself than waiting for Harry to walk straight past you during his thirty-second countdown. "Is that okay?"

You get a nod, and she tells you to grab a drink off the table behind you. Leaving you with your heart rattling and the heaviest lanyard you've ever worn burning through your shirt to your chest.

Finding a spot to watch the show was easy. You picked the furthest side of the pit, under the concrete overhand of the seats above, and stand in the shadows, only half the stage in your line of sight. It felt like a little cave almost, and you lean your back against the cold concrete and tap your boots together on the ground below you.

The area starts filling around you as members of Harry's team finish their part in preparing him for the show. There are a few women wearing belts with makeup brushes and combs peaking out of them, and two familiar faces from Harry's executive team. They don't see you, though, and you're glad. You watch the roadies' torches flash on the dark stage as they neaten up leads and manoeuvre over amp boxes double-checking the guitars are in the right order for the sets.

There's a movement in your periphery that draws your attention back, the group of people who joined you in the pit all gravitating towards something back at the curtain. And it's not until one of them steps to the side that you see the floating head that's poking through the dark material.

Harry.

He's staring right at you: no expression on his face, just his searching, green eyes that stop when they see you standing in the dark as far from him as you can possibly be. He takes half a step forward, and the shoulder of an expensive suit peeks out. You hear in your head echos of a moment in Harry's living room unpacking a delivery from Gucci, the way you nearly choked on your tea at the cost of a tailored trouser and his half frustrated dismissal, 'It's nothing, that's standard for me.' You felt small at that moment, thinking about how one of Harry's suits could pay for your education for a year, and that would be nothing for him.

You feel small now too. This isn't the space you're supposed to occupy.

The shadow of a frown barely cross his features, but then Harry tries to pull his dimples up to give you a small smile. But it's testing, it's not a confident smile or one he looks sure he's giving. Like he's smiling at someone he's not sure will smile back.

There's no way I'll ever do anything else with the band, he'd said.

But that wasn't the biggest lie he'd told, just the most public, the widest.

His deepest, biggest lie was you.

+

The fourth lie was that he loved you.

Harry was the one to say it first.

It came out like a compliment. A response to a fact of yours he'd particularly liked. A sort of well done, that was a good one.

It was nearly two months since you'd met, and what started as three or four dates a week morphed into you staying at Harry's house most nights. You spending your weekends off work trailing around after him on his errands or to work things, or hanging out alone at his place until he returned from them. A couple of times, you went to the same exercise class, which involved the two of you going separately and not interacting at all. Still, you'd peek at him from across the room and have to hold your giggles for later when Harry spent the hour concentrating beyond anything you'd ever seen just to stay in the seat of the spin bike.

Saturdays and Sundays he started taking off too though, around a month into dating you. No more 6am weekend PT sessions or midday conference calls with creative teams. The only work Harry allowed himself to do on weekends was housework. Laundry. Food prep. Touching base with his mum.

"Did you know blueberries are actually false berries?"

"No, I did not know blueberries are actually false berries," Harry parroted back to you. You catch the half rolling of his eyes at you where you're sitting up in your favourite spot on the bench next to the hob, peering at him keeping careful watch over breakfast: blueberry pancakes. He was wearing just his pants, chest bare and cool in the autumn morning air. You were rugged up in leggings and a sweater, unsure how he could stand being in such a state of undress.

"It's true," you reaffirmed your tidbit, popping a false berry into your mouth while Harry—with far too much concentration for the job at hand—dropped the small round berries on top of the batter sizzling in the pan. "Berries by definition are fleshy, pulpy ovary fruits that have their seeds embedded on the outside. Blueberry seeds are on the inside. So they aren't really berries."

"Ovary fruits?" He questioned, with a look of mild distaste.

Your shoulders dropped as you realised Harry knew less than you thought he did, "All fruit are ovaries, Harry. Think about it."

He does for a moment, and you can practically see the cogs turning. Harry thinking about how fruit grows on their plants and bushes and shrubs. The fact of what an ovary is when it comes to basic anatomy. And when he comes to the full circle of it, he groans, "That is so weird."

"I think it's cool," you grinned. "Like a little bit cannibalistic in a way."

He barked out a laugh at that, "I don't think that's what it is."

"Well, maybe not technically," you conceded, "But it's something … Really makes you rethink eating eggs."

"Oh my god," Harry was truly laughing then, "Stop, please."

"Sorry," you peeped with a cringed look, tossing back half a handful of the small, round fruit in front of you.

He was shaking his head at you, laughter bubbling out between his perfectly straight teeth, and then it just slipped out, "Fuck, I love you."

The words didn't bump over any hesitation. I love you, Harry said.

Your stomach dropped instantly, but the fond happiness dancing across Harry's face didn't go anywhere. He didn't look back at the pancakes or to where your hands were wringing together on your lap. Harry held your gaze and didn't dodge away from what he said at all. Like he knew you'd need a moment with it, that you weren't expecting him to just come out with that.

"I love you," he repeated after a moment, smiling when he saw your lips start to turn up, "I mean it."

Hearing him yell the same words through the microphone from stage sizzles your heart a little, like the pancakes that day crackled in the pan as Harry pushed himself into you on the kitchen floor. You remember the feeling of his hands under your clothes, your leggings barely halfway down your thighs before he was claiming you in a wave of lust, pushed by the new, invisible force in your relationship—love.

The floor under you now vibrates as everyone gets to their feet to join Harry dancing through his first song. You stare at him, daring him to look over at you but knowing he won't. The longer you stand there, the more you thaw out to it, the more you find yourself with a smile on your face and a slight sway to your hips. His music is fun and familiar and feels like clicking into place.

It's mesmerising. He's mesmerising.

You don't like admitting you'd forgotten how good at this he was. He has the whole crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. Even his crew around you are grinning ear to ear and singing along. Sharing private jokes between them and cutting dance moves in small groups as they watch the show. It's fun. And it reminds you that so much of your relationship with Harry was like that. That there were countless nights spent dancing in the living room or screaming at laptop screens doing board game nights with his family.

You'd forgotten that you could laugh so hard your belly hurt and that Harry was one of the few people who'd ever been able to get you to that point of joy. Watching him throw joy off the stage now at thousands of people was reminding you how very good Harry was—used to be—at making you feel like the only person in the world to him.

"Babe," his giggles filtered down the hallway and into the bathroom where you were plucking your eyebrows, "Babe! Come … Come see this."

You rolled your eyes as you put the tweezers down and padded into his living room, not at all surprised to see Harry pretzeled on his yoga mat in a fit of laughter. He did this a lot, called you away from a task or from work for something hilarious that ninety-nine per cent of the time wasn't hilarious at all. You'd end up snorting out laughter of your own though, at him.

Now, Harry had one of his feet hooked behind his neck while the other was prostrate on the floor behind him.

"You're doing great, baby," you condescended lightly, tilting your head to the side and frowning at his position. It looked awful and not at all calming, let alone comfortable. He wasn't a very good advertisement for yoga at all.

"They say this one's great for—great for," he giggled too much to get the words out, his arms holding his torso back so his legs would do what he wanted them to, he took a deep breath, "It's meant to be the yoga colonic."

Harry was heaving with laughter as he finally got it out, his position faltered, and you watched as his limbs all fell back to the mat as he leant forward cackling. You were grinning too, amused by how amused he was.

"Been feeling backed up, have you?" You asked him, crossing your arms as you hitch one hip out.

He rolled over on his back and wheezed out the final string of laughter, one hand holding his lower tummy as if it ached from the whole spectacle, as his other hand reached out for your ankle, "Come down here with me."

"Hmm," you hummed, pretending to be unhappy to be dragged down on top of him, your hips resting on his thighs as your chin propped up on your hands at his chest, "It's very entertaining how entertaining you find yourself," you mused.

Harry rubbed the tears from his eyes and then settled his hands on your back, breathing in the pleasant weight of you there, "I just—I was thinking about what they think the yoga colonic is going to do." His giggles started again, "Imagine being in a class and it literally working? Everyone just—everyone just shits themselves!"

You can feel his laugher, his bones pushing yours up as his whole body fills with his happiness. The stream of tears coming from the corners of his eyes start again as he squeezed his eyes shut while the sound of Harry's deep, uninhibited laughter filled the whole house again.

The memory brings back a smile, like so many with Harry do.

But there's still the Too Fresh Sting of your final moments with him, your last moments with him. You've not seen him since that evening months ago where you both yapped at each other things that couldn't be unsaid, unhappinesses that couldn't be reverted or unadmitted. It wasn't like the fights you had about Harry's casualised view of money and how he'd drop thousands of pounds on seemingly nothing without thinking how small it could make you feel. Or the times you'd snap in frustration when Harry tuned out of you complaining about an issue with your friends he deemed as superfluous or rooted in something silly or not as essential as the Important Thing He Was Planning. He could be so dismissive when he didn't think something mattered highly enough on his scale of measuring things.

The Harry dancing around on stage in front of you wasn't the man who said you were independent like it was a dirty word. Yelled across the kitchen that it was too easy for the two of you to be apart, you didn't miss him enough. The man who told you he didn't feel like you needed him, thought you were always standing with one foot out the door the whole time you were together. And you can remember being flabbergasted (still are, really) by what he was saying because it just wasn't true at all. You? Too independent? You spent every night at his house, and were at Harry's beck and call the whole relationship. And you can hear all the times you said 'what would I do without you?' when he talked you off a ledge or had answers to questions you believed to be unanswerable.

You can see how it was another classic example of Harry telling a non-truth to cover up what was really there. To distract from his own shortcomings. He accused you of what he was feeling, of his flaws. Making them your problem meant he didn't have to be vulnerable. Didn't have to take a risk his business manager hadn't guaranteed. Didn't have to gamble on your future together.

In the relationship, he always had the upper hand. And maybe you did have one foot out the door emotionally, but that was only because you had to. Harry never invited you in with him completely. You were always on the outer. After nearly a year of dating you were still The Girlfriend He Didn't Have.

But I fucking love you, he'd said when he sensed where that night was going. Like Harry had a list of grievances, and it wasn't until he got to the end of reading them out to you that he realised where it landed him. He told you he loved you as though it would erase all the things about you he seemed to dislike so much. Things about yourself you apparently couldn't see.

Hindsight has taught you that if anyone was too independent, or hesitant to commit fully in that relationship, it was Harry.

Halfway through his set, Harry's assistant comes over to check on you, and you end up chatting for a few minutes about how you've been. She speaks to you like there was some club you were a member of and she missed your meetings. Although neither of you references the breakup, or acknowledge in another life you had a lot more to do with each other, the unspoken things weigh on your chest. You find yourself wiping away a quiet tear when she walks back over to the main group watching Harry.

Of course, that's when he teeters over to your side of the stage and looks straight at you. His expression falls instantly, and you're sure that he only meant to glance at you in passing, but what he sees has him doing a double-take and fixing his gaze on you for two lines of the song he's midway through. He tugs on the collar of his shirt and Harry's eyes are desperately trying to read what you're thinking, just like that day he told you he loved you at the end of the breakup, as though you'd forget everything that came before it.

You stick your thumb out to him and give him your best fake smile. Like he might be led to believe you were crying about something else. As if you hadn't just pulled his attention from a room full of people who'd paid for his attention tonight. At that moment you think the fact there's a secret love and life between you must be too obvious to everyone else. There's a connection, something whirls around the room between you and it feels threatening and perilous to how you've been trained to think things have to be.

You wait until Harry turns and goes the other way across the stage before you push off from the wall and walk out.

At first, love was an encouragement between you. It was approval, a showing of appreciation. Love was a promise that was just for the two of you. A declaration that validated everything you were doing together. Love was a feeling that proved what every action meant.

Then, love was a bandaid, was a line used in desperation to fix something unfixable, and you walk the world with skun knees now because of it. Love was never just love. It was used to fix the wrong things.

And in the end, nothing healed at all.

+

The fifth lie was that he'd always fight for you.

Harry promised you that the two of you would make it work.

You'd make up after every argument, big or small. The little ones that were those tiny bickerings in the car which somehow roared into yelling matches. Or when one person's grumpiness from the day leaked into your evening together. You always expected his call or the long sigh that would precede his apology. You never got halfway home to your house if you left his after a row. He'd call and beg for you to come back, that nothing was worth you physically leaving being near him. You left knowing before the night was done the two of you would reconcile.

Until it was That Fight you were leaving after. The one that began The End.

It started because Harry was overseas for a few weeks. While he was away, you suggested the two of you going on a holiday together during the summer. An anniversary trip. From the other side of the world, it was easy enough for Harry to worm his way of out of it. He went off on a tangent about there being no holidays (rest) for the wicked and then got you talking about something else until you forgot how you'd been sold on the idea of lying on a beach with him for a week.

When Harry got home, you had it stored in an unhappy little pocket in your mind. Top of the agenda for when he returned.

"Can we talk about the holiday thing again?" You asked his first night home.

He sighed against you, his body gearing up for a reunion that didn't involve speaking, lips attached to your neck while his hands danced around the band of your bra, "Do we have to right now?"

"Well," your instinct was to back away from the tension rising between you, "I'd like to."

Harry pushed his hair up off his face and briefly looked at the ceiling, "I don't see how we can, babe. It's too hard, logistically. Just take a week off work and stay with me here."

"I already stay here," you counter, "I'm talking about a holiday somewhere. A beach. Or a ski resort. Something fun and different."

"Those places are all busy," Harry complained, his hands off you. He started to pack the dishwasher from dinner.

"I just want to go away with you, do something normal, you know?"

He clipped the side of the sink with a dinner plate and swore angrily under his breath, "Fuck."

"Don't get angry."

"I'm not fucking angry," he growled, tossing your forks into the plastic crate, "I just fucking got home, and you're straight into this. No 'I missed you so much' or 'It's so great to see you'… Just straight into going on a holiday as if I have endless time to mess about."

"What do you mean? We've just eaten dinner together, you told me all about your trip. I said I was happy to have you home!"

"Yeah, well, feels like you just don't give a fuck that I'm back."

You frowned at him starting to get annoyed yourself, "I cried on our FaceTime call on the weekend because I missed you! You have a lobotomy since then?"

"Don't yell," Harry instructed quietly like he was chastising a child for not controlling themselves.

"What's this about, Harry?" You asked. "Why is it such a crime for me to want to go away with my boyfriend?"

He sighed again, "It's not."

"Right," you crossed your arms over your chest and wondered how many times he could wipe down the chopping board.

Probably one more time.

"So …"

"So what?" Harry repeated, "What do you want from me?"

His words and their harshness shocked you, and that was the exact moment you started worrying this was going to turn into Something Else. Not just a Normal Fight.

"I want you to tell me why you're so annoyed by this?"

It would have been so easy for you to break down and scream about how insane it was that you were talking about celebrating your first anniversary with him and the relationship was still a secret. How badly you wanted to throw that out there, but there was a wise fear in you which said that would be a death wish. (That fact haunts you today, how you knew he'd never step out with you. There wasn't any hope in you or promise from him it wouldn't always be that way. You knew your place and where the boundary line was, don't push past this point. And you always behaved. Never peeped out of your box.)

"It's like you don't even need me," Harry said bitterly, "You're so fucking independent. What's the point?"

"What are you talking about?" You gushed, nearly swallowing your tongue when he turned back to look at you for the first time.

"You don't need me," he accused, "You've always got one foot out the door."

"I don't," came your defence, but you both knew it was the truth. You were halfway out the door because you hadn't been invited all the way in yet.

"You don't want this life with me," Harry shook his head, "You've never been happy where we are. Relationships don't work that way, you can't just keep demanding the same thing hoping you'll wear me down. That's not fair."

Tears shake out of your eyes slowly as your body catches up with what he's saying, "Harry."

"It's not fair!" He repeated loudly. "You can't keep on about it."

About what? You want to ask him because you hadn't mentioned a holiday until the week before. That's not what he was really angry about. He was talking about The Secret. And his guilt was showing. His anger was misdirected, aimed at the wrong thing. He muttered something to himself you didn't hear.

"I didn't hear that."

"I said," Harry looked up at you, and when your eyes clicked together you saw surprise rise and then quickly disappear as if he hadn't expected to see you there. "I said, I don't think we can keep doing this."

"You don't think we can keep doing this?" You repeated it because the words hardly sounded like English the first time you heard them.

I don't think we can keep doing this.

Harry stood across from you with no expression on his face. And it took a few moments for him to own up to what he said, but he does. He nods his head once, awkwardly, and then nods again.

"We can't keep doing this," he tells you, sounding defeated, and then his voice rises again—in pitch, not in volume—"But I fucking love you!"

But I fucking love you.

As if that was enough.

It was days of you expecting a call, and a make up that never came. Expecting the fight for your relationship Harry promised you he'd always put up. You wanted him to prove that you were someone he couldn't do without. You hated the thought of him walking around his house and not feeling the absence of you as some impossible weight he couldn't bear.

"Y/N!" Your name sounds out behind you, but you keep walking, an instantaneous decision that pretending not to hear her might work.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't.

Harry's assistant keeps chasing you down the hall she initially led you through, calling your name and eventually getting you to stop and turn around because, well, you can't keep pretending she's not there forever.

"I'm just finding a loo," you lie.

"There's one this way," she points over her shoulder, in the direction you both came from, "Harry said if you tried to leave I had to go with you, which, for my own dignity I'd really prefer not to have to do."

You find yourself scoffing, "Who said he's in charge of how long I stay?"

Her expression softens somewhat, "He just wants to see you after."

How dare he think he can control this still, you think.

You know she's not the person to be frustrated with. You should be frustrated with yourself first, for coming, and then with Harry for deciding he could orchestrate this … This whatever it was. Still, you find yourself biting out your reply, "He saw me from stage," you tell her bitterly.

"And he'll have seen that you're not there anymore," she replies patiently,, "It'll throw off his focus if he's worried you've gone home halfway through."

You fall into step beside her but can't give him the win, "Quite frankly, it's not my concern or responsibility anymore if his focus is thrown or not."

She wordlessly points out where the bathrooms are just in front of you. You're trying not to make eye contact with anyone who's in these backstage hallways. They feel like ghosts from a life that's not yours anymore.

The first time you met any of Harry's People you'd felt absolutely mortified. The whole thing felt awkward to you, meeting assistants and managers and creative directors. Putting faces and humans to jobs done for Harry. He was a lot of people's boss, and it made you uncomfortable because you'd not seen that side to him before. You knew things like how hot he liked his showers and what yogurt he liked on his muesli in the morning.

That first—and only—step into his professional world, was in a venue just like this one where Harry was filming a music video for a few days. The stage was set up like it was for live a show, and you overheard someone saying setting up for a shoot was more involved than for an actual performance. Harry wanted you to see what this part of his world looked like and despite them not fitting in either of the Friends or Family categories you'd laid out for People Allowed To Know About You, his "Team" were people Harry felt safe introducing to you. (NDAs were a powerful thing) He led you through the hallways by the hand and stuck his head into every room with a cheery, 'Hullo, just bringing Y/N around to meet everyone.'

You remember one person declaring they were happy to be meeting you. Harry was too young to be married to his job, they said with a relieved tone, That it was good he'd found his Someone. Harry beamed at that, looking down at you as if thinking, Yeah, I have found my Someone.

Now you stand back in the pit side of stage, and Harry looks down at you with a hesitation that makes you more uncomfortable than when you were watching him film that music video. His assistant has brought you back to where his team are standing, and you feel more than one set of eyes take stock of you returning, a shared glance between a manager and the girl shadowing you. A wide-eyed exchange that says, That was the last thing we needed. When Harry comes to the side of stage between songs, he's hunting for a bottle of water, but you can see he's come to that side because his eyes are focused on hunting for you.

When he sees you've returned, he slowly takes a sip of water, eyes not leaving yours. You feel like he's admonishing you in his head, seeing how weak you were, that you ran away after a little eye contact. There's a distaste there, you think, and as he's putting the cap back on the bottle, Harry opens his mouth like he's going to try to say something to you, but he stops. He frowns at his hands as he puts the bottle down and then turns away, bringing the microphone back up to his lips and slipping back into entertainer mode.

"In a lot of ways, I hate this next song," he starts slowly, speaking over the band as they begin to slow down the tempo of the night. A smoke machine whirls to life and pumps out a few big clouds, shrouding the stage behind Harry. "I really hate it."

He pauses. And your insides freeze in your chest. You're hanging off his every word, just like every other body in the room. Harry stands right on the front of the stage, toes almost touching the drop off. He's looking out at the audience and lets the microphone hang at his side. Makes no move to keep talking. Was he looking for someone out there, or was he running over what he was about to say in his head? Rehearsing it, making sure it was exactly what needed to be said.

Where you used to see thoughtfulness you now see calculation.

Give nothing away. Sell only the product. Push the song. Let people come to their own conclusions.

"This is a song about," he says carefully, a crack to his voice that sends adrenaline shooting straight down your legs, "About regretting that you've hurt someone. And about the helplessness of wishing you could make them forget what you said, but … Knowing you can't take it back."

You watched Harry trail around to the upright piano on stage and sit himself down on the stool. He stares at his hands hovering over the keys for a moment too long, but you're sure Harry's audience would let him take a hundred more. You see what perhaps they don't—the hesitation. You'd witnessed it enough to spot it, even across the stage in the dark from thirty feet away.

He's not sure about playing the song.

You think about contacting him by telepathy. Saying, I'll leave so you can go back to your show. You don't have to pretend I'm not here, I'll just go. Like I wanted to. Like I tried to.

But he plays it.

You've not heard it before, but the rest of the room has, and they sing along with him. You hear a couple of thousand people sing with your ex-boyfriend about him regretting the way he treated you. And you're almost able to talk yourself out of believing it's about you, you can nearly reason with yourself that it's kind of vague. Other than naming the cafe he'd sat in the car park of a hundred times waiting for you to return with a takeaway, it could be about anyone, really.

But he sings out a line and looks straight at you, and his eyes say it's yours. The song. The apology that's not been said yet.

I get the feeling that you'll never need me again.

His voice cracks again as he sings it. And the hurt part of you says it's just a vocal technique Harry's trained to call on at any time. It doesn't speak to anything other than a creative choice on his part. But the vulnerability is hard to ignore, the low hanging, remorseful unease in the room. He fumbles a string of notes on the piano as he sings and you're hit by the overwhelming need to make him stop.

Witnessing whatever he's currently feeling with this song is more uncomfortable than you've ever been, and a switch in you to protect him flicks on. You look around at his assistant, his manager, trying to see if there's even a hint of anyone else feeling like this moment needs an intervention, needs to be stopped.

The song ends. And you're glad.

Harry takes a few moments on stage to get ready with a guitar for the next song. He doesn't come over to your side of the stage for a drink, or to ask the roadies for anything. Instead, he flies straight into the next section of the set. Seemingly recovered from the heavy moment you felt as though you nearly drowned in. He'd never sung about you before.

Nothing remotely personal about your relationship ever left Harry's house.

And you find yourself wishing it would all just go back there.

+

The sixth lie was that he wouldn't break your heart.

Harry did though.

He broke your whole life.

So when he comes off stage at the end of his gig, there's little in you that wants to hang around. As soon as the lights go down and you see Harry's silhouette cross the back of the stage and hop down the stairs to the floor, your gut churns, and you wish you were one of the people in the rest of the venue. The ones now turning and slowly filing out of the building. Going back to their lives peacefully.

Instead, you're ushered behind the curtain again, into the small area that's immediately buzzing with life. You watch Harry as if he's moving in slow motion though. As soon as his boots hit the concrete floor somebody is tugging the suit jacket from his shoulders and swapping it for a grey hand towel that he uses to wipe down his face. His hand pushes his hair up over his head as he smiles at a handful of people, and then his eyes find yours. The smile drops, and he takes a steadying breath in.

"Y/N," he says loudly. Straight. Without expression. It's a statement, but also you sense a question there too. As if you might not turn out to be the person who was standing there. He holds your gaze over and through the people walking around and in front of him. He's handed a bottle of water and offered a second one which he takes, "Y/N," he says again, pulling his head back to beckon you over.

You roll your lips together when you've made it to the vacant space in front of him. Harry passes you the extra water bottle and cracks the lid off the one he keeps for himself. You grip yours with both hands but don't make any move to open it. Standing in front of him didn’t feel like you thought it would. It’s less of a kick I in the gut, and more a reinforcing of things that you’d figured out since being without him.

"Hi," he says hesitantly, briefly looking at someone behind your left shoulder. Then, you feel his eyes back on your face.

You speak to his forehead, not ready to have things inside you unlocked by eye contact, "Hello."

"This way," Harry says after a moment, running the towel down his sweaty face again.

He leads you down a hallway, wiping his face on the towel two more times as he walks. Harry continuously looks over his shoulder at you to make sure you're still following him, as if there was somewhere for you to hide in the concrete hallway. When he gets to his dressing room door, he kicks it open and holds his arm out to let you in first. The room smells like his cologne, a whiff of his final moments before going out on stage and a time portal back to mornings you'd spritz it on yourself before leaving the house, it was your scent then too. There was a small sofa and table, a long mirrored table with his laptop open next to a stack of papers, his screen saver bouncing back and white photos across the locked screen. His overnight bag and its contents were sprawled out over the floor in the corner next to where you can see his phone charging.

"You look good," is the first thing he says to you. Trying to pull your attention probably. Maybe hoping to get on the front foot charming you. You could tell him he looked good as well, particularly in the cream suit they had him in tonight, but you were sure there were no shortage of people who already had.

"Your show was good," you deflect away from the personal, eyes tracing the bottles in the corner of the table, "Great setlist."

"Needs a shakeup, if we're honest. Getting stale," Harry shrugs, and you see it in the mirrored wall. He's still standing by the closed door, watching you walk into the centre of the room and take stock of what's around you. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

Harry coughs uncomfortably, "Thanks for coming, wasn't sure you would."

"I wasn't sure either."

You sense Harry realising this conversation was going to be exactly as difficult as feared it might be, he nods his head and moves over to the sofa but doesn't sit down, "Did you want a seat?"

"I'll sit here," you perch yourself on the chair in front of his laptop, crossing one leg over the other and hitching your elbow at the back so you're facing Harry. Keeping the room between you.

Harry sits on the arm of the small, burgundy sofa, and tosses the towel onto the seat next to him, "Looked like you were a little upset there for a moment."

"My boots are new," you quip, kicking your top foot out towards him, "Blisters."

He sighs again, and you start to feel chastised, but there's a more substantial part of you that stubbornly bunkers on down to playing this role, taking power when you'd never had it with Harry before. He knew it wasn’t blisters that had emotion welling up in you during his set. But just the same it wasn’t his place anymore to be privy to your feelings. And you weren’t going to let him gallantly try to take it. You weren’t old friends who could pick up where you left off. You were broken lovers.

"I just thought we could do with talking," Harry says finally.

"You could have uninvited me, you know, I assumed—Well, it's not like I've been expecting to still attend any of your shows the last six months. This one didn't have to be different."

He almost looks hurt, "You live here."

"How was Italy, Harry?” you turn the conversation around abruptly because you didn't like where it was going, and he was starting to frustrate you. You didn’t need him pointing out you lived in this city alone now since he left. As if you didn’t know.

Where watching him on stage hit you with longing and heartbreak, memories you found yourself irrevocably attached to, being in the same room as him now is only making you see the real Harry. The one who's so good at rearranging the energy in the room to make you feel you need to give more of yourself. The one who's an expert at asking a leading question and relying on the other person to be vulnerable first, lead the charge out the gates.

The man who lied to hide you every day for nearly a year, even when it was hurting you more than protecting you. The hurt from him was worse than the invasion of your privacy would have be. The distrust you felt didn't counteract the security you were still afforded by anonymity. The way you felt you still had something to prove—something to earn from him—and that you just needed to earn the right to your place in Harry's life.

"I've missed you," he said finally, "Just …"

"You've been lonely?" You raise your eyebrows at him.

"What?" Harry's defences click into place, "No, it's not that—obviously yes, I've been lonely—but also I just—I miss you."

You start nodding, and your gaze drifts around the room, "Yeah, I … What exactly do you miss, Harry? Because—I mean, it was kind of shit, don't you think?"

"Shit?" he looks horrified, "What was shit?"

"Harry," you say simply, telling him to cut the bullshit with your expression. "Come on."

"I loved you," he declares loudly, proudly, “We had a great time together. I don't think it was kind of shit at all."

That's when you feel tears come to your eyes. Of course he didn't think it was shit. He still didn't see where the problem was. Couldn't see it. He would go right back to That Fight and keep going the way you had been if he could. Harry would keep living that life with you, he would have kept on going the same way. You'd still be the secret. A fight about a holiday would have resolved itself with compromise and make-up sex, and you would have gone right back to sneaking out of venues and pretending not to know him in crowded rooms.

Your lips turn up in a smile of sorts as your tears beg to fall but don't, "You haven't changed," you state with a small, incredulous laugh, "You've not figured it out. Nothing's changed," you repeat, shaking your head.

Harry's confusion is plain, and if he thought your tears were because you miss him there's something like a flicker of doubt, as if he's reading what's in front of him again and maybe getting a different story.

"You can't have a life with someone who doesn't want anyone to know you're in their life," you state simply.

And that was it, really. That was the nuts and bolts of it.

The secrecy eroded any meaning your relationship with Harry had. The doubt that cast. The burden on you to continually prove yourself, to audition for the role every day only to never graduate from understudy.

You watch Harry's throat constrict tightly as he thinks about the words that come from his mouth, "I loved you," he repeats, "I didn't want anything outside of us to fuck us up."

"You can't control the world that way, Harry," you're observing him carefully, "You definitely can't control people that way. I get why we started that way, but a year in, Harry? A year."

He looks at his feet, and it's the first bit of remorse you've ever seen him show over it.

"I know you loved me," you keep going, "But you can't use that as some bandaid for the lying, for the hurt that was. You can't erase the consequences because you thought you were protecting me or us or yourself. The truth doesn't cancel out the hurt of the lie."

Harry's still starring at his boots, "You could have said something."

You blink once.

"Fuck you," bursts out before you can stop it, and Harry's eyes snap up to yours, you laugh at his nerve and rise to your feet, "Fuck you, Harry. I couldn't have. I felt like I had to earn it. Like maybe I was one gold star away from getting there. And then when I did push it, you ended it."

"That's not—

"—It is," you insist, shaking your head at him, "You put all your insecurities and shortcomings on me and then had the nerve to tell me you loved me as if I was the defective cog in the wheel. As if you saying you loved me put all the onus on me spoiling it."

"I'm a private person—

You put your hand up to silence him, turning on your heel to face Harry as your pacing halts, "Stop. I don't … I don't care," you breathe out simply, "I really don't. Our relationship wasn't The One. It's one we'll both learn from for the ones that are coming. I hope you learn from it," you add quietly, "Because I have."

"Y/N," Harry says your name like it's an idea he's unsure of.

"That song wasn't about me, was it?" You ask because on stage he said it was about regretting hurting someone and there's been no hint of a 'sorry' from Harry since.

His brow creased, "It is. I am. I wanted you to hear me play it tonight. It's for you."

You smile, the idea that you've grown beyond this situation blooming inside you, "You've not said it."

"What?"

"You haven't said you're sorry," your head shakes again, a fresh wave of your new perfume—the one that's just yours—filling your nose, "You've said you missed me. And that I look good, but you've not said you're sorry. You can put an apology into the song on stage, but you can't admit you were wrong to the person you wrote the song about."

His shoulders sink, just the slightest amount, and you know that you've seen enough. You've said enough. He's not going to have an epiphany on this, not in this conversation with you. You've gone as far as you can with this. As far as you're willing to.

"I'm going to go," you take a step forward, "Thanks for the song, your voice sounded really nice on it."

And you walk passed him with just a final wave and the slightest touch to his shoulder. He doesn't move from his seated position, but his neck cranes and he watches you leave. Eyes hunting your back for answers, like the manuscript for what just happened might show up there. But it doesn't, and you slip out the door, the clip from your shoes fading from his hearing quicker than he wanted it to.

Your insides are shaking by the time you make it out onto the street. No part of you wants to turn back and look up at his name in lights again. You're done with seeing the best of everything in him. Harry's one of the shitty boyfriends you'll tell someone about one day in the future, and they'll call him a dickhead with anger dripping from their tongue, promising to never treat you the same way.

And they won't.

You'll both have bumped and bruised your way into each other's lives, and there'll be a satisfying click with them there wasn't with anyone else. You'll have journeyed through all the maybes and not-quites, and you'll land in that forever place with the person who wears the badge of Yours with a fervour nobody before them has.

And Harry … You'll go and be Nothing to Him.

+

My inbox is here

[emonaculate]

The need to Know

❥ Pairing: Eren x Black!reader

❥ Summary: Y/n knew that deep down it would be impossible to get over Eren, she knew that after they had broken up; it would have been best to just move on. However, the idea of him being with anyone was just too much for the woman to bear.

❥ Genre: Angst if you squint

❥ Word count: 1.9K

❥ Warnings: Cheating, Profanity, Violence, and mentions of sex

Y/n remained silent as she sat in the cafeteria, her mood going downhill after seeing them enter and sit with her former friend group; those two being Historia and Eren, the newly formed couple.

"Y/n did you even hear what I've been saying?" Hitch elbowed her friend in the side.

"Huh? Oh... Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired. You know from studying for midterms." She replied as she rubbed her now sore rib-cage.

Hitch watched Y/n for a moment, then turned to look at the oblivious couple who were holding hands looking happy in love. An expression of pity and sympathy formed on the girl's face as she turned to look back at Y/n, whose brown eyes would not look away from the two holding hands.

"Oh... Y/n."

"It's not a big deal, Hitch. He made his decision and I made mine. After all, they look better together anyways." Y/n tore her eyes away from the couple to look back at her worried friend.

"I'd kick his ass if I were you. You guys break up and then he turns around and dates the friend he told you to not worry about. Bitch ass move if you ask me. Not to mention everyone keeping it from you for months." Hitch huffed as she linked her arm with Y/n's.

Y/n bit her two-toned bottom lip as she thought about how dirty her so-called-friends treated her once Eren and Historia began to date. Everyone knew right off the bat and just all unanimously agreed to keep it from her for as long as possible. Sure they only befriended Y/n due to her dating Eren but it still hurt because she thought that they at least cared about her.

"Nah it isn't worth my time. They made their decision and I made mine. Though you don't have to seclude yourself for me, I know Jean misses you."

"Damn fool should have known better." Hitch shrugged as she barely spared a glance at her boyfriend who was desperately trying to back into her good grace.

Y/n smiled in appreciation, truly grateful to Hitch as a true friend. As soon as Y/n found out about Historia and Eren; Hitch found out as well and blew up on everyone who dared to hide it. Hitch had even gone as far as taking a break with Jean to prove to him how fucked up the whole ordeal was; Y/n talked her down from doing it so now Hitch had just been giving him the silent treatment. And ever since that day, the Y/n and Hitch had been closer than ever imaginable.

"So what I was saying earlier is we're going to Porco's party." Hitch continued.

"Porco?" Y/n questioned in confusion.

"From Marley University who wears the leather jacket all the time."

"Oh, the grease monkey-looking dude."

"Exactly. So you in?"

"Absolutely." Y/n grinned after giving Hitch a quick fist bump.

It had been a while since Y/n dressed up, especially since her mood had been bitter and angry for the past couple of weeks, but none of that matter right now as she slipped on the strapless crimson-red dress that stopped above her mid-thigh. It hugged all her curves and showed off her figure in the best way.

"You look hot." Hitch purred as she wrapped her hands around Y/n's waist.

"And you have a boyfriend." Y/n reminded her friend as she placed her warm brown hands over Hitch's small pale ones.

"Mm, he don't gotta know."

"You don't mean that, you love Jean. Everyone knows that."

"....Yeah whatever," Hitch mumbled hiding her face in Y/n neck as her face blushed deeply.

Y/n laughed to herself as she finished getting ready for the night; her makeup was light but still stood out against her glowing skin, the golden eyeshadow certainly did wonders.

The pair arrived at the beach house and it already looked jam-packed. Y/n held onto Hitch's hand tightly as they walked through the entrance only to run into a familiar Zeke Yeager; Y/n grimaced seeing her ex's brother.

"Y/n, I haven't seen you in so long." Zeke voiced as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Likewise, but you don't have to pretend to be nice. I'm sure you know Eren and I aren't together anymore."

"Pretend? I assure you if I didn't like you. You'd know. So don't be a stranger and visit me sometime." The smile on his face seemed to hold a secret, Y/n wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

"Oh okay... It was good seeing you." Her glossed lips formed a soft smile as he walked away.

"You should fuck him to get back at Eren." Hitch suggested causing Y/n to smack her shoulder harshly.

"Absolutely not. Zeke is not about to be my rebound. Plus he's like too old for me."

"Honey, you had a thing for the tattoo parlor guy, he was too old."

"Levi is very attractive and you know it, Hitch." Y/n defended herself before they both broke into laughter.

"Come on, let's go dance." Hitch said as her laughter had died down and a familiar beat began to play.

As soon as they made their way to the floor, Y/n felt Hitch's hands attach to her waist and she began to grind back against her friend who seemed to be enjoying groping her thighs and hips way too much. Y/n couldn't say she minded too much after all, Hitch's love language was touched. The girls continued fucking around and enjoying their time until Y/n's feet began to hurt.

"I'm gonna go get something to drink, you want anything?" Y/n question as she panted softly.

"Mm, coke and vodka would be nice." Hitch responded as her chest heaved up and down as her eyes stayed focus on something elsewhere; Jean was dancing with some random girl and it was clearly getting to her.

"Girl, go get your man. I'll be fine." Y/n reassured as she pushed her friend towards the male and turned on her heel to find something to drink.

Y/n drank her sweet wine cooler, enjoying herself still until she stumbled into her old friend group. Her dark brown eyes met Mikasa's steel grey ones silently. The dark-skinned woman clenched her jaw and turned away from the other girl as quickly as possible.

"Y/n wait." She heard Sasha call out.

"Do not. I don't feel like losing my cool right now. I'm enjoying myself and I don't have shit to say to any of you." Y/n seethed as she turned back to face them.

"I just want you to understand, we didn't think that-" Sasha started again desperately wanting to get through to the woman.

"Honest do you see how stupid how you sound? You didn't think I'd be the slightest bit upset about my ex fucking and then dating someone I considered to be my friend? Not to mention all of you hid it from me without a second thought." She laughed in disbelief as she had begun to walk off again.

"Why did it matter when you're the one who left him?" Mikasa questioned calmly, but that was enough to set Y/n completely off.

Though she wasn't sure what came first, all Y/n knew that her drink had been thrown at Sasha and she slapped the hell out of Mikasa. Y/n was aware of what it looked like.

She knew that right now she looked like the bad guy, but deep down she couldn't give a damn. Every single fucking fiber in her body had been begging for her finally give in and snap. To give in to the rage that had been tearing her up for the past few weeks. She was angry and rightfully so, they betrayed her trust. Y/n wasn't even aware that she had been screaming until she felt her voice go hoarse

"Fuck you. Fuck all of you."

Y/n was grabbed by an unknown figure that had pulled her away from both girls who had guilt written all over their faces. She was hauled away into a separate room and she came face to face with the man of the hour, Eren Yeager.

"Y/n calm down." His voice that was usually soothing only filled her with more rage.

"No. Why the fuck are you telling them I left you?" She seethed showing his hands away from her body.

"I never said you did. They assumed."

"You should have told them the real reason. That when I said I loved you, you realized you didn't feel the same."

"Y/n..."

"No this is the part where you listen. I'm sick and tired of pretending to be okay when both know the truth. You broke up with me because you can't see yourself settling down with a black girl. That's why you were so quick to go get with a girl that was everything I could never be."

Eren's hand darted out and gently wiped away the tears, that she hadn't even noticed, that flowed down her brown cheeks.

"Y/n that's not why I left. I left because I never experienced love. I grew up in a split household. My father had an affair with my mother, then left to go back to his real family leaving me bitter and angry. I've never experienced romantic love nor have I seen it. I was scared.." He kissed her forehead and held her tightly against his body, despite her struggling.

"I gave you everything I had. Then you tossed me away because you were scared? You went and got with the same person I told you I was worried about. How do you think that makes me feel?" Y/n continued to cry in frustration as she held onto his chest.

"I know.." He stroked over her hair and rocked her slightly.

"I hate you." Her voice whispered.

"....I love you too."

Y/n hated how her heart fluttered at his words, she hated how he could calm her down with a few measly touches, she hated how he made her feel so unsure and nervous. Most importantly, she hated how much she loved him.

"I told you years ago. Your race wasn't and never will be a big deal to me. I love everything about you. I love how your nose scrunches up when you dislike something, I love how you randomly blurt out throwback songs, I love how you rage when you play video games with me." He began to ramble holding onto her tighter only to be silenced by Y/n leaning up to capture his lips into a kiss.

It didn't matter to her that what she was doing was wrong; her brain was on autopilot and she needed him desperately. Y/n wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him closer as tears clouded her vision. The need to know how he felt had finally been sufficed and she could finally be with him in the way she wanted.

Eren hoisted her up in his arms and laid her gently down on the bed behind them, she quickly slipped out of her dress and watched him follow suit, what was to come after they did the unthinkable was not her problem tonight, it was shit future Y/n would have to deal with. There was a heat inside of Y/n that she just had to have him feel tonight.

"I love you." His voice fell deaf upon her ears as he intertwined their hands.

[thefanficmonster]

You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved. 

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it. 

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“ 

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me. 

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.  

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free. 

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

 Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

[shoichee]

ok hear me out. aomine x f!reader who’s on the tennis team and is amazing at it. for a while the reader and her team need to share the gym on the same days as basketball practice. during the days they share the gym aomine notices the reader. somehow aomine finds out the reader is also good at basketball, practically at aomine’s level. you can decide what happens!! it can be a head cannon or a type of one shot :)

I AM HEARING YOU OUT ANON, WE HAVE ANOTHER BANGER REQUEST THIS IS FIRE look inhale, what a genius, okay so i don’t play tennis myself, but I have a lot of friends who do... and trust me.... it’s a lot more exertive and difficult than what it appears to be

Aomine x f!Reader

[Headcanons]

if Aomine was a monster on the basketball courts, you were a monster on the tennis courts

the only reason why he hasn’t heard about you until he first saw you was because tennis tends to be not as a popular and broadcasted sport as basketball // the tennis games themselves are often single-player (doubles exist too but still less people on the same court) and relatively quiet with few audience members watching too

it was a MIRACLE that Aomine was there at the gym today (thank Wakamatsu for threatening to burn his porno mag), and luckily for him, he didn’t even had to practice as hard because the tennis club had an agreement with Touou’s basketball coach to occupy the other half of the gym

enter you, putting down your duffel bag and stretching before you do a few warmup tosses and hits against the gym wall while the nets were being set up

for the first half of practice, both sides were busy with their own practices, so Aomine hasn’t really noticed you

it was until the team got a break to catch their breath that Aomine noticed that the tennis team were still doing drills and practice matches; every single eye was drawn to you

Sakurai immediately comments on how your movements were too similar to Aomine’s, and Imayoshi is equally intrigued that you might as well be the tennis-version of Aomine

at the chatter, Aomine slightly perks up and looks to where everyone was pointing at (you), and quietly watches you while still looking “bored,” until he realized how right they were

your agility is top-notch and your instincts to immediately sprint to the right direction were insane; your change of pace from 0 to 10 in acceleration were even more seamless than Aomine’s at times, especially when you stand at a ready position and suddenly burst to the other side of the court to save the ball from the corner

not to mention you have your own fair share of trickshots and unpredictability in trying various ways to tire out your opponent in chasing after the balls you hit

Sakurai loudly wonders that if you played basketball, would you even be able to defeat Aomine?? and the entire team STARTS ANALYZING AND DISCUSSING amongst themselves and doing bets LMAO

Aomine’s impressed, but he’s still somewhat “meh” about it, since “the only one who could beat me is me” is still an attitude he carries around, and you do give off a vibe similar to Kise where you could easily copy techniques easily if you do play basketball other than tennis

little did Aomine know, you also noticed his exceptional skill with the ball and how he can do trickshots and dunks with ease… you turn to your friend and ask if that’s even possible

your friend stares incredulously at you and asks, “How do you not know? He’s one of the Generation of Miracles!”

of course you didn’t know if you’ve been focused on tennis all your life, but being in the sports world, the title of “Generation of Miracles” does ring a familiar bell

your friend (who’s also your partner during doubles matches) also plays a little bit of other sports on the side, including basketball, and during breaks, your friend would often ask you to play a small game together because seeing the Touou basketball team playing got them pumped up

your athletic ability would translate very easily into basketball, since having reflexes, agility, instincts, and change of pace would all be advantageous in sports that require mobility (just like how Koganei’s instincts from tennis were very useful in Seirin)

so whether or not you played basketball didn’t matter dramatically because you had skills and abilities that would be universally beneficial in most sports anyways

you always gave your friend a run for their money when you kept stealing their ball, did fast breaks, or pulled off agile maneuverings that no beginner player would be able to do, and whenever your tennis teammates did their “ooh’s” and “ah’s,” the basketball team would peer over to see what the commotion was about

they were LOSING their shit at how naturally talented you were at basketball, and Imayoshi has a bad great idea of inviting you over after practice to do some quick one-on-ones with Aomine for his own entertainment

Aomine is kind of excited if he was being honest, and his blood is kinda pumping and he’s a bit giddy to find a potential rival other than Kagami

Momoi is a little worried for you because Aomine might be a brute and hurt you, especially since you’re a girl, but she’s just as excited to see someone potentially knocking down his ego a shit ton if he loses

Momoi and Imayoshi both walk up to you on the last day of “shared” practice at the gym and ask if you can spare some time to do some one-on-ones with Aomine, and you agree because you don’t have much to do anyways

your friend is super excited for you but a little nervous at how you’re so casual in going against a GoM, but nevertheless, both the tennis and basketball teams are in the audience watching Momoi throwing up the jump ball (Aomine is giving you an arrogant smirk and you’re just standing there more focused on the ball than him LMAO)

as expected, Aomine easily grabs the ball (since he knows the rhythm in jumping for this a lot better) and immediately starts dribbling down the court at an inhuman speed, expecting a swift victory

nope, you immediately reacted to his speed and immediately cut off his drive when you’re right in front of him… and you immediately swiped for the ball, Aomine almost didn’t react fast enough to switch handles to escape your reach

but you immediately reacted and reach for his other dribbling hand and slap the ball away, and then you bolted with the ball down your court

Aomine is right behind you, shocked out of his wits, and everyone else is in HYSTERICS in the background

“HOLY SHIT, did you see that?!”

“(y/n), kick his ass!”

“Ho? Aomine, you’re letting her beat you so easily?”

“I knew those porn mags didn’t do anything good for him.”

“U-Um, Wakamatsu-san…”

Aomine thinks it’s a fluke that you got the ball from him, but he’s shocked because you weren’t exactly a Kise, and you even had a reaction time similar to Akashi’s on top of that

he tries to steal the ball back, but you did something unpredictable: using a similar movement when you hit the tennis ball with your racket, you slapped the ball to bounce (at an unfamiliar speed/rhythm) through his legs before you sprinted to dribble the ball in a normal drive again

shooting was a different story though because Aomine is always blocking your shots or stealing it before you can even get into a shooting position; after all, shooting requires use of muscles different to when playing tennis

even so, you made it equally hard for him to score

ultimately, Aomine’s superb shooting abilities expectantly made him won the short match, but he even had to resort to some crazy trickshots, so your reflexes would kick in slower than normal to register those shots

for those who have no clue about tennis (spoiler alert: me), a tennis racket is a lot more bulkier and heavier than it appears to be (much different than a badminton racket), and it takes a lot of arm strength to play with it very fluidly without wasting energy

thus, dribbling was easy for you, and your ball handling was pretty unique but still very hard to keep track of

now Aomine won, but everyone is losing their shit at the fact that you managed to get him to sweat so much and putting in effort (cue Wakamatsu and Imayoshi trying to recruit you to join as Aomine’s practice buddy to get the Touou ace to practice for once)

now, if it was a two-on-two match, you and your friend would definitely destroy Aomine and whoever would be unfortunate enough to be his partner (cough, Sakurai), for the sole reason that your impeccable teamwork in tennis doubles carries over to basketball matches, where Aomine has always been a solo star player

you damn know well that Aomine would constantly bug you to do one-on-ones with him, but he’s secretly whipped for you and doesn’t know how else to ask you to hang out with him other than a match LMAO

you do remind him that you’re a tennis player first, and you prioritize your team above all else; that means if there’s tennis practice, you’re going to those no matter what

that just reminded him of Kuroko (nostalgia, angst, and feels enter here)

he reluctantly shows up to watch your tennis practices along with Momoi because sleeping on the roof has gotten “boring,” and Momoi finds incentive in finding any techniques she can pick up from you to use for basketball strategies

he may have secretly watched your tennis matches, both singles and doubles

you definitely have watched Aomine’s matches, noticing there’s something odd with him at times, like he wasn’t trying his best like he did with you

after a heartfelt talk with Momoi, you do feel like he needs to get out of that mindset on his own, since his stubborn personality wouldn’t listen to you and you knew that from the amount of one-on-ones you played with him

then the Winter Cup came and Seirin won in their “revenge match” against Touou, and you were captivated by Aomine going ALL OUT in that match (you also took some notes to use for your own tennis matches)

Aomine drags both you and Momoi to buy some new basketball shoes after Touou’s loss, and from that point on, both of you are technically practicing basketball together, but like… you’re not complaining because you’re getting extra cardio in

you get better at basketball, enough to even beat him once in a blue moon in one-on-ones, but then he wins the rest of the matches against you tenfold LOL

Momoi loves you because you’re one of his main motivators to practice

when Aomine himself tries to play tennis singles with you, it’s quite hilarious to see him missing the tennis ball every time when he serves because it’s so TINY but it’s so heavy?? so it falls to the ground quite literally if he’s not precise in hitting it LOL

gauging distance between the net, back of the court, the ball, and his arm positioning is a nightmare for Aomine because he’s used to grand courts and GIANT distances and TALL hoops, and him being precise and meticulous in a much smaller area feels so restricting

of course you whoop his ass in tennis, that’s a given

give him some time though, he’d be really good at it really quickly once he adapts to his surroundings

bonus: Koganei FREAKS out seeing you in the Winter Cup in the audience because you’re a literal tennis legend, and the entire Seirin team is going ???? at him // he totally fanboys a bit and asks you to meet with his Seirin teammates, and you agree because you wanted to meet the team who gave Touou and Aomine a run for their money

you do one-on-ones with Kagami because you’re curious, and when Aomine hears of this… it’d be a CHAOTIC scene once he storms over to drag you away from Seirin

extra bonus: it’s not unusual to see you use your tennis racket to thwack him in the head when he gets any funny ideas of staring at your teammates’ shorts/tennis skirts or when he’s doing anything dumb in general

[julemmaes]

Honey - part one

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre roommates au

A/N: today I found a list of prompts that I just l o v e d and I decided to write an Elorcan short story cause I really really love them and I just don’t write them enough, so please enjoy this fluff turned mild angst and then again fluff I guess.

masterlist

Word count: 3,073

Elide would have loved to sleep. To be able to put on the soft plaid pyjamas that Lysandra had given her for her birthday only a few days before and slip under the warm covers - the General Psychology paper sitting in front of her as that black dash at the end of the sentence flashed was her only enemy at that moment.

She huffed, closing her eyes for a moment, enjoying the soft music coming out of the computer. She didn't know the song, because the playlist she was listening to had been sent to her by Lorcan and she hadn't had time to scroll through the song titles to memorize the ones she liked best. She couldn't even hear the words, just the soothing melody, but she could guess that it was a love song.

After all, every playlist Lorcan made for her to study with consisted mainly of sappy, romantic songs. Quite the opposite from what Lorcan himself represented, with his trademark grumpy, pissed-off attitude.

She giggled wearily, sliding even lower into the pillows as she thought about what their friends would say if they found out that her roommate looked for chill, love songs in his spare time just to help her out.

Elide never had too much time on her hands, always busy between university and the two jobs she worked to support herself, and when she could actually relax she never thought about finding new music, it was far too much work and tiring. But Lorcan wasn't studying and the shifts at the toy shop or the animal shelter were very often lonely and quiet, so he had time to listen to music for hours on end without anyone interrupting him. Only later, when he would have free time and nothing to do but play video games with Aelin and Rowan, would he get on the computer and create yet another playlist with the songs he thought she would like the most.

She was about to fall asleep when she heard Lorcan's scream and several alarms going off all over the neighborhood.

"No, fuck!"

She snapped her eyes open as she sat up and was surprised to find the room shrouded in darkness, the only source of light coming from her computer. She frowned, reaching for the switch and trying to turn the light on and off. Nothing.

She closed her eyes again, banging her head against the headboard.

This was the third blackout in a week. She couldn't take any more. And she could only hope that the alarms would all be turned off within the hour, because the last time, the building next door had taken over three hours to turn off the last one, causing everyone to lose hours of sleep in the middle of the night. She was just waiting for the dogs' barking to start as well.

Her plan to go to sleep early dissolved like candyfloss in water.

"Lorcan? Everything okay?" she said loud enough for the boy to hear. When no answer came she shook her head, huffing.

Elide looked for the phone among the blankets so she could turn on the torch, but she couldn't find it anywhere. She placed the computer on the floor, getting out of bed and paying attention to where she put her feet, "Where the fuck did I leave it?" she muttered to herself, moving the stuff she had on her desk over to the chair. It wasn't even there. She looked down at the bed again and then touched the pockets of the jeans she'd promised herself she wouldn't take off until she was done studying - nada.

She was about to leave the room when the door jerked open, "Ellie?" the computer screen was pointing too low for it to give enough light for Lorcan to see her, "Are you asleep?"

"Nop," she said from across the room, "I can't find my phone."

Lorcan sighed, "Mine's dead."

"Shit." she cursed, she wasn't a fan of the dark, "Do you remember where we put the candles last time?" she asked walking tentatively towards the doorway.

Suddenly, the music stopped and the computer made the worst sound it could have made at that moment, shutting down for good. She didn't worry about the paper that she had to finish, she knew it would be there once she turned it back on.

"I can't believe it," Lorcan muttered. They were plunged into darkness. "Can you make it over here without killing yourself?"

Elide was trying not to panic. She knew there was nothing in the dark, but that stupid childish fear had never really left her and her heart was beating wildly in her chest. It wasn't anything crippling, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant feeling.

She nodded, realizing then that Lorcan couldn't see her, "Yeah, wait."

"Take my hand."

Elide walked with her arms outstretched forward, moving them to avoid hitting the wardrobe or dresser she kept near the door, but her strategy didn't seem to work as she slammed her side into the latter and knocked half the stuff on it to the floor.

She grunted in pain, bringing both hands to the sore spot, "For fuck's sake."

She heard Lorcan chuckle, "What did you hit?"

"I think the dresser," she whined, then raised her head, as if she could see him, "Where are you?"

He snorted, "I'll try to get there. Stay right where you are."

"Where do you want me to go." Elide frowned, speaking so softly that even she struggled to hear herself over all those alarms. Another chuckle was soon broken by a growl of pain, followed by a series of very colourful swear words that made the girl burst out laughing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," continued Lorcan, who, by the sound of the various thumps, was probably hopping on one foot, "I think I stepped on one of your stupid earrings."

"Oh, god," Elide wheezed, more out of exasperation than anything else, "pray you didn't break it because I might kill you."

"It's already taken care of that. We'd only be even if I broke it," he said, cursing as he put his foot back on the ground, "Just stand there and I'll try to pick everything up."

Elide couldn't keep the smile off her lips, "I'll help you."

They hadn't realised how close they actually were, because the second she lowered herself to kneel on the ground, her head slammed into something very hard. She grunted in pain again, bringing her hands to her forehead, but burst out laughing soon after. The situation was getting ridiculous.

"Christ, Elide, are you alright? Please tell me that wasn't your head." asked Lorcan immediately, stretching his hands forward.

Elide didn't know what he had wanted to do, probably make sure her head was still in one piece, but what his hands touched certainly wasn't her head. The laughter died in her throat with a broken sound and before Lorcan realised he was palming her, several moments passed. When he too seemed to come to realisation, he let out a squeak and immediately moved his hands away.

Lorcan squeaked.

"Did you just touch my tits?" asked Elide in a whisper. At the sound Lorcan made, Elide's entire body was covered in shivers.

He cleared his throat, "Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay." she grinned. Elide managed to sympathize with the darkness in that moment, almost thanking it for hiding what was sure to be the reddest face Lorcan would ever see.

"Are you okay?" he asked her again, "Sorry I didn't mean to knee you in the forehead."

"I think I might have a concussion," she said, deciding to fuck with him.

"Ha ha," he huffed, "very funny."

Elide imagined him frowning more and more, then sighed, "Okay come on, let's go find these damn candles." she pulled herself upright, one hand on her head and the other on her hip, then muttered, "And tomorrow we're going to go buy a supply of electric torches."

She heard him chuckle, "Can you follow me or do I have to hold your hand?"

Without a second thought, she reached out a hand towards where she thought his would be. Only her fingers didn't meet bare skin, but the fabric of Lorcan's sweatpants, who with a surprised yelp took a few steps backwards, "What's that? Are you trying to even the score?" he said amused.

"Please tell me it was anything but your-" the words died in her mouth. She would have rather died and groaned, bringing her hands to her face when he burst out laughing.

"If you wanted to touch all you had to do was ask, babe," he teased.

"Fuck, knock it off," she said throwing a hand forward, at a safe height, and hitting him in the chest with her fist.

He grunted, but grabbed her wrist, finally intertwining his fingers with hers, "Was that so hard?"

She said nothing, but dug her nails into his flesh and that was enough.

She dragged her feet on the floor so she wouldn't risk sticking earrings or anything else in the soles of her feet and when they were finally in the hallway, she didn't worry about where to walk because she was simply following Lorcan. The warmth of his hand clasped in hers was reassuring her greatly.

"How long do you think this will last?" she asked once they reached the kitchen.

"I honestly have no idea," he said. Elide heard the light switch being turned on and then a faint, "Ah, yeah." coming from him.

She giggled, then brought her hand to her mouth as she yawned, "I just wish I could sleep."

"Rough day?" asked Lorcan, opening the hand that was gripping hers. It took her a while to realize that he was silently asking her to let him go. She felt herself flush again for not realizing it right away, and with deep chagrin she pulled her fingers away one by one, immediately missing him.

She nodded, flinching when one of the alarms changed pace, becoming louder and more insistent. She sighed, knowing they were doomed to at least another hour like that, "Classes this morning were boring as hell, but they were important so I spent six hours on books and there was no one at the café this afternoon, which means not getting too tired and not running after every order, but it also means-"

"-no tips. Yes, I know," Lorcan finished for her. She could feel him opening drawers and rummaging through items looking for anything candle-shaped.

"Your day?" she asked, yawning once more.

She heard Lorcan halt, "God, you're exhausted." she didn't answer, so he continued, "Nothing much. They came to adopt one of the newcomers this afternoon though, and I'm pretty positive that family is perfect for that pup."

Elide could hear the smile in his voice.

Lorcan might have seemed like a mean person on the surface, callous. And indeed he was a bit of a jerk if you weren't one of the people he 'put up with', as he always said, but anyone who really knew him could confirm that he was one of the most loyal and trustworthy people ever.

The fact that he worked at an animal shelter and cared about the families to whom the puppies were entrusted or at a toy shop where Elide had often seen him help multiple parents choose the perfect gift were just two of the examples that could be given to prove such a point.

"Good," she murmured.

"Ro's going to kill me," he complained, "We were playing against a bunch of kids online and now they're going to think I quit because we suck."

Elide grinned, "But you guys do suck."

The shuffling sound stopped again, "Say that again. I dare you."

She chuckled, moving a chair and sitting down. She yawned for the third time and furrowed her brow. She didn't like yawning.

"Ellie, what the fuck," Lorcan huffed in disbelief, "help me instead of just sitting there."

She groaned, "You kneed me and I'm dead tired, I have every right to do nothing," she justified herself, "Besides, the light will be back on in a few minutes. Chill out."

"Chill out." he mimicked her voice. Then he cheered, making her gasp, "Found it!"

"Good luck finding the lighter." she whispered, crossing her arms over the table and resting her head on them.

He whistled, "How nice we are tonight," then he closed the drawers slamming them shut one by one and Elide wanted to punch him again for all the noise, "But it doesn't touch me, because it's in my pocket." and then a flame lit up the room just enough for Elide to see his face.

She scowled, "Why do you have a lighter in your pocket?"

The victorious, sly expression Lorcan had had fell away so quickly that for a second Elide thought something had happened or he'd been burned.

She was almost afraid to ask, "Have you started smoking again?"

"No." he answered too quickly.

Elide stood up, throwing her arms in the air, "Lorcan!" she opened her eyes wide, "You quit over three months ago."

He grimaced, "Not really." he spoke so softly she almost didn't hear him.

Her frown deepened, "What do you mean, 'not really'? You're such a dick," she mumbled, shaking her head.

In the meantime he had lit more candles and was arranging them on the kitchen counter, but when he spoke he looked at Elide and she saw that he was holding back from insulting her in turn. "I'm not a dick, I simply didn't tell you that I had resumed..." he trailed off, then huffed, "two weeks after I quit."

Elide opened her mouth wide, "Two we-" then exploded, "Lorcan, it's bad for you.  B-a-d." she spelled, drawing the letters in the air with her finger, "Do you understand that if you keep smoking your lungs will turn so black they'll look like ash?"

Lorcan clenched his jaw, "I know, thanks for reminding me."

Elide crossed her arms over her chest, speaking in a strained tone, "Why did you start again? Why didn't you tell me?"

He turned his back to her at that, with the excuse of arranging the candles around the kitchen better, but Elide knew it was because he didn't want to look at her face. He didn't answer.

"Where are they?"

"What?"

"The cigarettes. The packet? Where is it?" she demanded to know, walking up to him.

Lorcan turned, taking a step back when he realised she was less than a metre away from him. He frowned, "I'm not telling you."

Elide's eyes went wide, "Why?"

"Because you'd snap them all," he said in an obvious tone.

She nodded vehemently, "Yes, exactly!"

Then he sighed, "Can we just let it go?"

"Sure, if you want to let it go that you're going to die of cancer and that you've been lying to me the whole time, we can let it go," she said, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head. Then she huffed out a laugh, "You're unbelievable."

"Ellie, listen, I'm not smoking as much as I used to, we're talking about one to two cigarettes a day at most," he tried to reassure her, running a hand through his hair. She could hear it in his tone of voice that he felt guilty and embarrassed, whether it was because he had lied to her or because she had found out she couldn't tell.

With a little more light brightening up the room, Elide realised only then that he was shirtless.

Fuck, she thought. Lorcan with his shirt off was a feast for the eyes.

She quickly shifted her gaze to the floor as the light returned in a flash and she was forced to close her over-sensitive eyes. They heard the tv turn on again and the melody of the video game fill the silence.

"Thank fuck." Lorcan muttered as almost all the alarms went off. Now only the few that had to be turned off manually and the dogs continued their assault on their ears.

When Elide opened her eyes again, she cursed. There was blood on the tiles. She leaned forward, looking down at the crotch of her jeans to make sure it wasn't hers, even though she knew she wasn't on her period. "Lorcan?" she asked hesitantly, then turned her head towards him, not moving her gaze from the floor, "I think you're bleeding."

"What? Oh fuck." he chuckled. Elide looked up at him at that point and saw him leaning on the table with one hand and placing the ankle of his right foot on his left knee. He looked up at her, "Your earring stabbed me."

A laugh bubbled out of her, "I'm sorry."

Lorcan looked into her eyes and his shone, "Don't worry, I'll clean it up."

"I'll help if you want." she offered, then yawned and cursed in the middle of it.

He snorted, one corner of his mouth curled up, "Nah, go to bed. I'll take care of it."

Then she let go a whine, "Oh my god my room is going to look like a crime scene if you managed to get blood in here too."

Lorcan smiled tightly, "I'll take care of that too."

Elide nodded, admiring her friend's bare torso and arms one last time.

If Lorcan noticed, he didn't show it, and Elide was grateful for that moment of discretion, they'd had enough of awkward moments for that evening.

Warning him that she was going to bed, she went into the bathroom, undressing very slowly and slipping into her soft pyjamas. When she returned to her room, she noticed a wet spot on the floor and smiled, realising that he had started cleaning from her bedroom. She shouted a simple "goodnight" to him and without waiting for an answer slipped under the covers, ready for a deep and well-deserved night's sleep.

Just a second before she could fall asleep, the door opened slightly and she heard what could only be Lorcan place something on her bedside table. She couldn't open her eyes or bring herself to talk in that moment to ask him what the hell he was doing, but when she woke up the next morning, two packets of cigarettes and the lighter he'd used the night before sat there.

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[ktheist]

02 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content. oral (f receiving).

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05  | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis. 

“can we have morning sex?”

“not today.”

x

“is that my brother’s shirt?” is the first thing kim taehyung says to you after a whole night of you declaring war against him for choosing his girlfriend over you.

your body clock’s designed in a way where no matter how late you go to sleep, you’ll always wake up at 8 in the morning. the question of whether you can go back to bed or not varies. like right now, when your stomach is grumbling because it’s decided to deem that the spicy carbonara ramen you had has lost its sustaining-abilities.

“uh, is that a woman-choosing, best friend-abandoning human i see?” you say, eyes squinted at said human.

“whatever,” that seems to have taken taehyung’s interest off the creme colored sweater hanging off your shoulders and way past your butt. you could’ve not word shorts when you went out to get yourself a bowl of cereal. mainly because the brothers have a similar habit of sleeping in until the sun’s shining directly into their faces and they’d have no choice but to wake up - that is, in the event that they forgot to shut the blinds.

“what are you doing up anyway?” you ask but it’s a no-brainer because every friday night, kim taehyung and you would never fail to release a week’s worth of pent up frustrations over playing video games until the crack of dawn, “don’t tell me you haven’t slept.”

“unlike some people, i’ve got things to do,” he steals away the bowl of cereal you just finished preparing for yourself, “places to be.”

you can’t even get mad at his brazenness, not when those eyebags make him look like he’ll pass out with one swing of your punch. and you do punch like a girl - besides the fact that you are one, it’s already a settled fact that you’re really not fond of the idea of wasting your energy on something pointless - so you tend to give the least amount of energy for, for instance - if you do choose to - punching kim taehyung who’s walking away with your bowl of cereal.

so you fix yourself a new bowl, savoring it while watching an episode of the tale of nine-tailed and spending the entire morning catching up to the latest episode. it’s only until half an hour past noon, do you strut back into seokjin’s room, noticing the lump under the sheets now shifting with a sign of wakefulness.

“morning!” you greet, hearing the sound of hymns trickling into chuckles as seokjin pushes the sheet off his face and steals a glance at the uncalled for being that’s perched on top of him.

“you’re up early,” he remarks, arms stretched over his head, muscles flexing deliciously.

“can we have morning sex?” you put on your best smile, lashes fluttering in what you hope to be a coquettish manner rather than someone who looks like they have dust in both their eyes.

“not today,” he says but his large hand latches on your right breast, massaging with a expertise before pinching on your nipple and making you jump in surprise.

“ah!”

but before you get to complain, he’s pulling you down and engulfing you into a warm but shirtless hug (on his part at least).

“not fair,” you pout but snuggle closer anyway, forehead leaning against his chest.

but it’s short-lived because thunderous footsteps start echoing in the hallway and sounding dangerously close with each passing second. for a split second, you watch seokjin watch you, panic spreading across his face before your hands instinctively push him away. then the panic dissolves into alarm as he calls your name, accompanied by another timber-like voice that’s shouting out the same syllables.

“___!”

and then your butt hits the ground, then your back and your head at the same time.

“whew chile, that sounds painful, you okay?” taehyung sounds concern, but he doesn’t take any step towards you to further assert your head - you could’ve had a concussion for all he knows!

“um, gee thanks for making sure,” you want to roll your eyes, but you’re too busy rubbing the spot where your head made contact with the floor.

but seokjin, ever the thoughtful person, is already climing over the bed and pulling you up with one heave.

“why are you shirtless?” taehyung suddenly inquires.

 the cozy creme sweater clinging onto your body feeling immensely inadequate as you ice up. he looks between you and his brother, screws twisting in that head of his before he asks another question.

“is that really my brother’s shirt?” his eyes scream concluded assumption.

well, it’s true, but-

“would you give me your sweater if i said i was cold?” you don’t give him a chance to respond, “no. right. so shut up. what do you want anyway? hurry up cause i wanna take a nap.”

“let’s play, the squad wanna go one more round with you before we all go to sleep,” he says, the matter of why seokjin is shirtless or if it’s really said man’s shirt you’re wearing now no longer a matter of importance.

you like how his brain works.

“the fuck? you came all the way here just for that?” you narrow your eyes, as if visually asking him if he knows whether he’s making sense or not but you get up anyway, walking towards your laptop that’s perched on the desk where you left it last night.

your friends greet you with less enthusiasm than they did last night - everyone sounded like they either need sleep or need a fuck. there’s no clear answer to what they need but you guess you’re up for one game.

“alright losers, let’s geddit.” your cheer is met with groans and tired version of ‘wooo’s and ‘yeah’s.

five minutes into the game, you feel a peck on your cheek and a smiling kim seokjin gazing down at you with bed hair and puffy cheeks. the smile you offer him back is fleeting because you have a character to maintain and a team to support. this time, you choose the supporting role while hoseok takes on the fighter role.

once you realize that the figure casting a shadow over you remains still and unmoving, you peek up at him for the briefest seconds to ask ‘what?’.

you’re only met with a higher tug of his lips.

and then he falls down on his knee - and you don’t even have the chance to wrap your head around it when he grabs hold of your ankle and spread your legs apart. lifting your ass up as he pulls down your shorts seem to be a muscle response than your brain actually understanding what’s happening. but by the time it does, seokjin’s face is already buried deep between your thighs.

“wah- yikes!” you manage to divert your surprise to the enemy that came on screen, forcing out a laugh, “th-that was a close one, whew i was about to die.”

“the fuck? you already had 8 hours of sleep what are you messing up for?” taehyung says into your headphone.

seokjin licking a strip up your love nub.

but that doesn’t stop you from retorting, “oh my god, did i tell you to play all night and not sl- sleep?” you bite back, barely managing to end your sentence with a consistent amount of sarcasm when the tip of seokjin’s tongue slips into your entrance.

“okay, okay, we’re all a little sensitive here,” jeongguk, the most competitive and non-losing-accepting out of the five of you actually tries to placate.

oh, you’re sensitive alright.

then he says something about how “we’re a team” and “if you wanna fight, fight the enemy team.” or something. you’re not so sure because you’re too busy clasping your hand against your mouth whilst trying to dish out healing powers to your team that’s fighting a few feet in front of you as seokjin tugs on your thighs, positioning them in an angle where his tongue can reach deeper inside you, so much so that your ass is almost hanging off the air.

“fine,” you almost choke on your supposedly vindictive reply as your toes begin to curl, back arching as the only sound that manages to escape you is a sob-like whimper whilst sparks erupt from the depth of your stomach and course through your veins like sweet, sweet poison.

seokjin kisses the inside of your thigh once your breathing slows down and you’re slumping on the chair like you have no energy left in you. jimin’s voice demanding you to cover for him barely registering in your brain as you click an ability that showers him with a protection spell.

“sorry, got distracted,” you say into the mic simply before hearing jimin’s “it’s okay, nobody died.”

literally.

if anyone of you died, it would’ve definitely been on you. last night, you got away with saying you weren’t in your ‘zone’ but today, your underperformance will be the reason you get kicked out of the squad for good. probably.

and because you’re under fire, you can’t stop seokjin when he slips away and out of the room, leaving you to make up for your mini blunder.

the game lasts a good 20 minutes before the golden symbol of victory flash across your screen and more energetic sheers erupt in your headphones. everyone starts bidding each other farewell and ‘good night losers’s before the headphones go quiet.

only then, do you bound down the hallway and into the kitchen where you know the reason of the sizzling, salivating scent is because of kim seokjin. a still shirtless kim seokjin with his beautiful, broad back on you as he chops something on the chopping board and gracefully pours it into whatever he’s cooking.

“that wasn’t fair - you should at least give me a warning,” you stand with your arms crossed over your chest.

“did the enemy you go against give you a warning before ambushing you?” he asks in a matter of factly, teasing smirk on his lips that makes your heart go flip flop.

he’s never smiled at you like that before.

“that’s- that’s different,” you refuse to back down, “they couldn’t even if they wanted to because the system doesn’t let us communicate with the enemy team.”

he nods whilst stirring the - you’d peeked - fried rice that’s sizzling in the pan, “i did give you a warning.”

“um where?” you can fee your eyebrows knitting together.

“the kiss,” he taps his cheek twice before shutting off the stove, devious smirk playing on his lips.

“i thought that was a bona fide peck!” 

“that’s on you,” he shrugs, pouring the fried rice into four plates, “like namjoon says - never assume.”

“okay, maybe he did say that,” you concur, taking a seat across from him where he places the plate and offers you a fork and a spoon that he took out from their respective drawers under the counter.

“something smells good,” taehyung comes popping out from the hallway, bowl of empty cereal in hand as his eyes light up at the sight of the two other plates placed between you and seokjin, almost as if knowing that the only other thing that coud summon the kim brothers out from their dwelling is seokjin’s cooking.

“i’m starving,” namjoon announces, seconds apart from taehyung’s assertion.

so you have breakfast - or lunch, really - together like you would. just four kids from the same hometown who found home in each other’s presence.

you might’ve found something else that you like in seokjin’s pants - but that’s besides the point.

x

note. and here we go for the 2nd installment! hope yall enjoyed!

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