#just to show up on campus for less than a day that's a fucking ridiculous ask

[fiona-fififi]

...

[outerbankies]

new light part 7: take a ride — rafe cameron

new light series masterlist

summary: you feel everything fall into place when you finally get to see rafe again, but he still has to try and fit into your world somehow.

pairing: rafe x reader

warnings: drinking, weed (omg!), swearing, a lil suggestive content

a/n: wowee this fic is getting looooooong. i think 2 more parts + an epilogue after this. i think. we'll see! say hello to a bunch of OCs with ridiculous names (i was having so much fun lol). let me know what you think of this one :) y'all know the drill but with s2 coming up just want to remind everyone this is not canon rafe cameron!

my writing

take a ride up to Malibu

The two months you’d spent apart from Rafe had been about as tough as you’d expected. Your boyfriend was attentive, calling and texting you (even though he hated texting, Rafe came around for you) almost every day. He was horrible at sending pictures, even when he demanded them from you all the time. You finally got through to him about how much you just wanted to see his cute face and he started sending you pictures when he felt like it, your favorite being the picture he made one of his friends take of him out on the golf course in the collared shirt you’d bought him donning your school’s emblem. Not to mention the picture Dylan had sent you of him with Rafe at a tailgate when their schools played each other in football. Your heart had nearly burst when your stupid little brother texted you, giving you his approval in his stupid little brother way.

Rafe is cool and if you break up with him I think I’d still be his friend

Don’t fuck it up

But no photos could compare to seeing the real thing, which you eagerly awaited as you leaned up against your white Jeep outside the airport in your college town. It’s a small airport just ten minutes from your campus, not many people around with only the one flight coming in.

You finally spot all six feet and three inches of Rafe Cameron, wearing the aforementioned golf shirt like a nerd. You know he spots you, because his pace goes easy, shoulders dropping by a foot and smile taking over his features. You attempt to play it cool, staying leaned up with your arms crossed over your chest against the hood of your Jeep. But as soon as you have a clear path to him, you really can’t resist. You step off your car to tug him into your arms as soon as possible, but it’s a useless gesture. Because Rafe immediately drops his duffel on the cement in front of your car, backing you right back up into the side of it. “Holy shit. There’s my girl. Look at you.”

“Look at you!” you squeal, knocking his hat off his head, running a hand through his hair. It was longer than it had been since you even started dating. It was definitely working for him. “Baby, your hair!”

He blushes at your attention. “I know, I know. You like it?”

Ever since Rafe made you binge the Fast and Furious series with him, his favorite, he’d been ticked off by how hot you found Paul Walker. He agreed to go as Brian and Mia for the costume party your roommate was throwing because it meant he could wear a shirt and jeans, Rafe’s only requirement for a costume. But when you told him it meant he had to grow out his hair so he could look more like Brian, he’d immediately complained. When you showed him what you planned on wearing, it was even worse.

“Why can’t you be Letty? She’s a badass. And she wears less revealing outfits.”

“Then you’d have to be Dom. Did you wanna shave your head?”

He’d rolled his eyes through the grainy Facetime camera.

“You can cut it off right after, baby,” you’d plead. “I can book you a slot at my salon.”

“Fine. Is it one of the fancy ones where they’ll wash my hair too?”

“Obviously. What do you take me for, Cameron?” You’d paused, looking at the picture of Paul Walker in the 2000s you had pulled up on your phone, comparing it to your boyfriend’s face on your laptop screen. “Am I pushing it if I ask you to use the sun lightener?”

You take his sunglasses off too, dropping it in the passenger seat like you had his hat, running your fingertips all over the lines of his face.

“Rafe, you look so good,” you praise. “You’re gonna be the perfect Brian.”

“I better, I wanted to cut it so bad,” he whines. “I can’t believe I have to meet your roommates looking like a hooligan.”

“Shut up, they’re so excited to meet you,” you say, hands resting on his chest. He still hasn’t let you off the car, his entire body pressed into yours like he’s trying to merge them together. Except you still haven’t kissed him, which isn’t acceptable. Rafe makes the realization the same time as you, hand sliding into the strands at the nape of your neck, slotting his lips over yours for the first time in months. “Minty. Did you just brush your teeth in the airport?”

“‘Course I did. So let me kiss you some more.”

“If you insist.”

“I do,” he murmurs, barely moving back from your lips. “Hi. I love you. My California girl.”

Your body thrums, you hadn’t heard those words in person since back in August at the air strip. You thought they’d lose their effect once Rafe started dropping them on to the end of every Facetime sign off, texting it to you (barely legible, along with a slew of random emojis) when he was a tad over-served, or recording it on your voicemail box when he knew you had a hard day, but couldn’t force himself stay up long enough to call you when you were off of work and he was three hours ahead. But damn, if hearing it when he was standing right in front of you wasn’t bad for your heart. “I love you, too. Missed you.”

“Missed you,” he agrees, arms coming around your waist to hug you so tightly he lifts you off the ground. “You drive a Jeep out here?”

“Of course. Doesn’t it suit me?”

“Everything suits you. Come here, I’m not done kissing you.”

—

Rafe watches in awe as you point out all of the sights to him, driving him by all of your favorite spots and stomping grounds on the way back to your townhouse. And he didn’t get enough of you at the airport, pulling you in for kisses at every single red light. His leg is bouncing up and down the entire ride over, and you knew he wasn’t used to being driven by you but you didn’t think you were that bad. But when he starts messing with his shirt collar and his hair once you pull into your neighborhood, you realize what’s really going on.

“How do I look?” he asks, opening your drivers’ side door and standing in front of it so you can see his entire outfit.

“Fine,” you say, accepting his hand as you get out of the car.

“Not too, like, kook-y right?” he asks, grabbing your keys from your hans so he can unlock your trunk. You sigh, surveying his outfit when he grabs his bag out of your trunk. You try to take it but he just slings it over his shoulder.

“You listen to your sister’s friends too much. And there’s only so much I can do when you show up in a pair of Sperry’s, RC.”

“I did not miss hearing that. And fuck. I knew I should’ve worn my Birkenstocks. They’re gonna think I’m so preppy.”

“You are, but so are they. Now c’mon.”

“Hold on.” He bends down to check his hair in the driver’s side mirror.

“Why are you so nervous?”

“I want them to like me, Y/n/n. These are the first friends of yours I met that I didn’t already know,” he explains, smoothing his hair every which way. “Plus, they’re way cooler than me.”

“I know I didn’t just hear Rafe Cameron say that.”

Rafe had been able to meet Davis and McCall over Facetime of course, always joining in with them to egg you on to go out when you just wanted to stay home and talk to your boyfriend instead. And you knew for a fact they were all Instagram mutuals.

“Go on, baby girl. Have fun with your friends. M’tired anyways,” he’d say. McCall would fake wretch in the background; Davis would fan himself dramatically out of view of your webcam.

“You did great with my parents,” you point out.

A look you can’t decipher flashes across his face. “Yeah, but that’s—”

“Just pretend Davis and McCall are my parents.”

“At least if it was your parents I’d have Wilbur here,” he whines.

“Oh, toughen up, babes.” You lean up to kiss him. “If my friends are cooler than you, does that make me cooler than you, too?”

“Yeah, but I already knew that.”

“But you still got me,” you preen, wrapping your arms around his neck, tugging him down slightly.

“You know this,” Rafe says, letting himself relax in your hold. “That was pure luck.”

“Mm,” you hum, connecting your lips with his once again. “For me or for you?”

—

You knew Rafe would be wiped from travel, the time difference not doing anything to help, so you promised you’d keep his first night in California low-key. He told you he was down for whatever, but you insisted on a night in, with just your roommates as company. Which was a tall order in and of itself.

Davis and McCall loved Rafe. Like, won’t stop texting the roommate group chat about how hot he was in person. Like, Davis following you to the bathroom to ask if you had anymore “southern himbos” that you could set him up with. Like, McCall drunkenly—low-key night in didn’t have to mean sober night in—banging on the door to be included, wrapping you up in a teary hug and saying how happy she is for you because he’s just so sweet. She hated the idea of you dating a boy from your hometown after what happened to her freshman year, but you could tell he'd won her over.

You’d accepted her hug but left them up there to collect themselves, coming down the stairs to find Rafe standing in your kitchen. He’s looking at your array of Smeg appliances, tracing his finger over the controls on your espresso machine.

“Coffee this late at night?”

He smiles in surprise, setting down his IPA on the marble island. You’d bought them just for him, a local brand of course. You had no idea what you were doing in the beer aisle at Whole Foods, but he seemed to like it.

“It’s a nice place, Y/n/n. California looks good on you.”

“It looks good on you, too,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist. You felt like hadn’t been able to stop touching him for more than ten seconds at a time since he got here. Not that either of you mind.

“Everything okay up there?” he asks, nodding his head to where you ran off with your roommates.

You nod, yanking his head down to kiss his forehead. “You passed. Flying colors.”

Rafe sighs in relief and buries his head in your neck, flushing crimson from his cheeks to his collarbones.

—

“I’m biased, but I think they’re great,” Rafe says, a heavy hand coming to rest on the strip of skin of your hip between your jeans and your strappy tank.

“Mm,” you hum, pushing him back a little to twist and turn in front of the mirror. You were really excited to wear these vintage designers jeans you got from a consignment store downtown, but they were way lower of a rise than you were used to. They sat practically under your hip bones. You were committed to the look. “You think?”

“Yes,” Rafe says definitively, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

He nudges past you to fiddle with his hair in the mirror, and you cross your arms over your chest, smiling at his expression. “I can't believe you're in my bathroom. Also, I promise you look hot.”

“Take your own advice then, Y/l/n,” he counters. “Refill?”

“Please,” you say, chugging the rest of your wine and handing him your stemless glass. “You know what I’m drinking, right?”

He gives you a look in the mirror. “Don’t insult me. And when are we switching to Coronas?”

“Ew, Rafe,” you scrunch up your nose. “I only bought those for the pictures.“

He just smiles. “You are such a princess.”

“And?” you say, touching up your darker eyeshadow, leveling him with a look in the mirror.

He shakes his head, biting his lip. “Missed you, princess,” he says, kissing your head one more time before heading downstairs.

Rafe indulges your friends like a champ, doing the same greeting about ten times over. You begin to lose track of how many times he’s introduced himself after your third glass of wine, just plastering yourself to his side and looking up at him dreamily while he explains how the two of you got together.

You loved watching him like this, watching him make a place in your world out here. You’d really distanced yourself from the Outer Banks since you moved to school, so sometimes it was hard to reconcile those two parts of your lives. But having Rafe here in your living room, talking with some of the guys you’d dormed with freshman year—it’d never felt easier.

You have to remind yourself that you’re the one hosting him, because Rafe is always the one trying to take care of you and play that provider role. He doesn’t even bat an eye, navigating your kitchen to get either of you new drinks, taking pictures of you with your friends, slipping into conversations with some of the guys you and your roommates had invited over effortlessly—taking all of the flack they give him for being a southern boy in a fraternity. They weren’t his usual crowd, and you could see it wearing on him a bit. Even for a couple of Figure 8 kids, the group you fell into at college could be a bit extravagant. But Rafe was doing a good job of not letting it show. At least not to anyone else, but you knew your boy.

“You good?” you ask him, after the friends you’d been talking to walk off for refills.

“Yeah, baby girl. I’m great,” he says, using the arm around your shoulder to bring you into forehead-kissing distance. The cool condensation of his tequila tumbler brushes up against your shoulder, causing you to jump. “Sorry. Let me fix that.” He throws the rest of his drink back, setting his glass down on a table behind you.

“Oh god,” you laugh, and he just smiles mischievously, leaning in for a kiss that tastes like tequila and beer. You’d put up with it, just for him.

“Why’d that one dude look at me so weird when I asked what he was going into after graduation?” he asks. You furrow a brow, trying to think back to what conversation he was talking about.

“Oh,” you realize, laughing a little. “The one who said politics? Tall with brown hair.”

“Yeah, that was weird.”

“He’s a Kennedy.”

Rafe’s eyes widen. “Jesus christ, Y/n/n. Are Malia and Sasha here, too?”

“McCall actually knows—”

“I need another drink,” he tells you, letting you unwind from his hold. He looks around at the party, then back down at you. “Actually, you mind if I step outside for a bit?”

“Of course not. You sure you’re alright? I can come with you.”

Rafe shakes his head, smoothing a hand down the back of your hair and pressing a kiss to your temple to cut you off. “Just give me five. It’s warm in here”

“Okay,” you nod, letting him walk off, but not before giving his hand a squeeze.

—

Rafe steps onto your back patio to catch his breath, pulling incessantly at his shirt collar like he had been all night until he decides to just pop the first few buttons, sighing and taking a long swig of his drink. He almost hates that he loves the local beer you told him you’d picked up just for him. And maybe the thought behind it was part of why he liked it so much but, god damn. You didn’t even like beer and you managed to nail it. Good girl. His girl.

He’s frantically typing out a text to the boys before he can help it.

Rafe: Guys what the fuck

Rafe: Y/n is friends with a Kennedy

Top: Lmao

Top: Of course she is

Kelce: I told you bro. You were warned

It takes him a second to notice the other figure on the patio, hearing the slide of sand on concrete underneath their shoes before making out their figure.

“Hey man,” they say, and Rafe can make out a figure in one of the deck chairs by the fire pit. He recognizes him from meeting him earlier inside, some guy one of your friends had brought along, but can’t quite place his name.

“Hey, uh…?” he trails off, slinking over to sit in the chair beside him. This guy’s wearing a trucker hat and flip flops. Rafe immediately likes him.

“Wren.”

“Wren,” Rafe confirms. “Rafe.”

“Yeah, yeah. Y/n’s guy, right?” the guy says, connecting a Corona to his lips. Rafe briefly wonders if it’s the from the six pack you’d bought for your costumes.

“That’s me,” Rafe preens. If he cranes his neck, he can see you through the window in the living room. Cares about your outfit long gone, your hands in the air, wrapped around your friends’ shoulders. Life of the party, spilling love, light and laughter (and maybe a little bit of riesling) onto any patron you come in contact with. He could clock your eyes searching for him, he knew he had about seven minutes before he’d be found again. You were always worrying about him.

“Nice. Hey, good to meet you. Loved your costumes,” Wren says, leaning over for a handshake so firm that Rafe thinks about how it rivals Ward’s. Rafe looks over his casual attire with a pensive stare, and Wren laughs. “We’re supposed to be Brody and Kristin from The Hills.”

Rafe nods in recognition, even though he has no idea who that is. When you told him McCall was hosting a couple’s costume party just for an excuse to get with the TA in one of her classes, he’d assumed it’d be a sea of Jim and Pams and Hughs and Playboy bunnies. But he’d hardly recognized any “costume” he’d seen all night. And it felt way more like a Figure 8 soiree than any college party he'd been to.

“Your first time out here?” Wren says, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Rafe says. “I go to school in Georgia.”

“Sick,” Wren’s eyes light up. “What for?”

“Uh,” Rafe fumbles. This might’ve been the first genuine interaction he’s had all night, feeling totally comfortable and paid attention to in a non-condescending way. “Finance. For my dad, he’s got a development company.”

“Back in your guys’ hometown, right?”

“Yeah. What about you?” Rafe asks tentatively. He notices the lines around Wren’s eyes, the rougher look he’s got to him.

“Ah, I was at the CC down the road from the university,” Wren starts, taking another swig of beer. “Took a semester off. I like working at my uncle’s garage.”

Rafe nods, a bit shell-shocked by how this conversation with a guy he would’ve probably never given a second glance to back in the Outer Banks was by far the easiest one he’s had all night with your friends.

“How did you meet, uh… what’s her name? Sorry, been meeting new people all night,” he asks sheepishly. Wren laughs.

“No worries. Delilah. Yeah, her dad’s a long time customer. Said his daughter was coming in to get her brakes checked one day,” he says, readjusting his hat. He smiles fondly. “Rest is history.”

Rafe nods, eyes clocking you in the kitchen, crouching down and standing on chairs to take a zillion pictures for your roommates in their costumes. He sees you talking to who he now remembers is Delilah, she’s tugging on your belt loop and making you blush about your jeans.

“I know what you’re probably thinking,” Wren continues, noticing Rafe’s eyes on the two of you. “How did a guy like me land her? End up at these fancy parties?”

“Honestly, man,” Rafe says, leaning back into his deck chair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been feeling the same way all night.”

“A lot of the people in there are… well. You know,” Wren laughs. “But Y/n has never been like that, at least since I’ve known her.”

“I know,” Rafe nods. “She's always been great.” His knuckle brushes up against the Zippo he has tucked into his jeans, bringing it out to flick it on and off lazily. He clocks the moments Wren’s eyes zero in on his movements.

“Hey, Hometown. You smoke?” Wren pulls a perfectly rolled joint from behind his ear. Rafe swears he’s never loved a guy more.

—

When your boyfriend re-enters your townhouse, his eyes are about five shades pinker than they were when he’d left. You catch Wren following behind him, who winks at you. You just roll your eyes.

“What’d you do to my boyfriend?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Wren says, but his eyes are just as pink. “Had to show your Georgia boy how we grow out here in Cali. Where’s Li? She texted me she wants to head out.”

“Living room. Thanks for coming,” you smile, pulling him in for a hug. You lock eyes with Rafe while Wren gives you a squeeze. Your boyfriend is just giving you the dopiest smile.

“Sure thing. See you later, Y/n/n. And hey,” he says, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I like this one.”

You just smile, waving him off.

“O’Connor, can I get a vibe check?” you ask, giggling as your boyfriend practically melts into you, pulling you to splay across his lap in a kitchen chair.

“Little bit crossed. Is that what they call it out here?”

“Yep,” you confirm, pushing his long hair back from his eyes for him. You were really gonna miss this haircut.

“Crossed. In love with you. Kinda in love with Wren,” he murmurs. “Lol.”

“Did you just say 'lol'?”

“Yeah. He said he’d never seen you as happy as you are with me,” Rafe preens. Totally gone, on an entire other planet. But his words still hit you straight to the heart. “Is he right?”

“About me being happy with you?”

Rafe nods, blush blooming across his cheeks.

You lean forward, kissing both of them. “Yeah, he is.”

“Wanna know a fun fact?” Rafe asks. You just quirk an eyebrow, standing up to lead him into the kitchen. He rests up against the island while you fill up your pink Hydroflask and get a cup of water for him.

“What’s that, babes?”

“He gave me another one. As a gift,” Rafe whispers conspiratorially, pulling it out of his shirt pocket. “And I think we should go upstairs, and smoke it in your bed while we watch The Office.”

“Then come back down?” you joke, already putting your hair up in the claw clip Rafe had let you attach to the bottom of his shirt for when you needed it. He was watching you with stars in his eyes as you twisted your hair up. He shakes his head, blinking his bleary eyes.

“No. Then we sleep. This top doesn’t look comfy though. You should change before we sleep.” He fiddles with the halter straps of your tiny tank, frowning down at you.

“C’mon,” you agree, knocking his hands away to start pushing him toward the stairs. “If we’re fast, we can pull an Irish exit. Straighten up.”

“Yes’m,” Rafe agrees, growing by about two inches as he stands up straight. His tall frame is cutting through the sea of bodies like a knife, and you just have to be thankful you can hide behind his broad figure while you skate across the living room floor, ignoring glances from your roommates and friends. “You’re gonna change though, right?”

“Yes, Rafe. Calm down,” you laugh, finally getting him to sit down on your bed. He’s haphazardly kicking his shoes off, his jeans ending up in the middle of the room.

“Just want you to be comfy. You can take one of mine,” he says, gesturing to his suitcase before sticking the joint between his lips.

“Cameron! Crack a window,” you admonish, half undressed.

“Oops, sorry, sweet girl. Going now,” Rafe says, stumbling to push your window open and practically rip his shirt off. He stares down at the ground outside your house, smiling at you with a joint in between his teeth. Hair a mess, cheeks flushed from the drinks, body bare save for his blue boxers as he leans outside of your window. You almost want to take a picture. “I think this wall might be easier to scale than your house back home.”

You rifle through his suitcase, settling on an oversized and faded black shirt. Smelled just like him. You make a note to shove it to the bottom of your hamper next time he’s in the bathroom. “Good thing we’ll never have to find out.”

“Mm, I don’t know,” Rafe says, holding the joint to your lips for you where you bend over the bed. “Might be a fun role play.”

“Jesus Christ, Rafe,” you giggle, nearly coughing on your hit. He just grins, putting the joint between his lips while you stand again to take your makeup off.

“Also, when are you going to get these blinds fixed?” he asks, gesturing to where your blinds gathered up to one side, the string sinched beyond repair.

You were a lightweight; it takes you a second to realize what he's talking about. “You sound like my dad.”

“Does your dad know anyone can just look in here when you’re changing?”

You smile at him lazily. “He gave me a number of a place to call and sent the cash for the repair. I just keep forgetting.”

“I can fix them for you,” Rafe says, joint still emitting smoke as he assessed your blinds, fiddling with the strings and slats appraisingly.

“If you want. Did you have fun tonight?” you murmur.

“Yeah,” Rafe says, a little quickly. You glance at him, your eyes growing heavier by the second, through the mirror of your vanity. “It was a lot. Your friends are intense. But I liked Wren.”

“Wren’s a good guy,” you say, coming to melt against your boyfriend where he’s laid down in your bed now. He still holds the joint for you as you lean back into his chest, body bracketed by his bare legs. “He and Li have been together forever.”

“Glad you have a guy like that around you out here,” Rafe says, reaching over you to pull out your laptop from where you keep it on your bedside table. “Set it up.”

“Mm,” you nod, the joint really starting to curl around your senses as you try to remember your password. Your skin feels on fire wherever Rafe touches you. But that might not even be the weed. “Baby—”

Rafe nearly moans. “How come you hardly ever call me that?”

“It’ll lose its potency,” you smirk. “Can you ash that out in the little tray on my windowsill?”

“‘Course. One more hit for you,” he says, handing it back over. Rafe ashes it out and then gathers you into his arms, clumsily walking you across the room until the two of you stumble into your en suite to brush your teeth, giggling at each other the entire time. You nearly burn your throat by taking a long drink of water when you’re done, Rafe just shutting his mouth in protest when you try to get him to drink some.

“For me?” you ask, straddling his hips. He rolls his eyes, taking the glass from you and downing the entire thing. He even takes a swig of your Hydro for good measure. “Thank me tomorrow when you aren’t hungover.”

“We won’t be hungover if we just smoke another J in the morning.”

“I invite you out here one time and you turn into a stoner,” you giggle.

“You're the one with an ashtray on your windowsill. Get under the covers,” he demands, shutting off your lamp and setting your computer on his lap. You oblige, squealing when he knocks the laptop off of his lap to get closer to you. He presses a kiss into your hair. “Missed this, Y/n/n. Missed you.”

You look up at him, the glow of your laptop illuminating his features. “Missed you.”

—

You’d be remiss if you didn’t notice the slight ways in which Rafe’s mood deteriorated over the weekend. He was more than ecstatic about most things; he loved seeing your campus, had bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet when you asked if he wanted to attend a class with you.

And he had actually gone out of his way to set up plans with Wren and Delilah after the costume party, blushing at the way you gawked when he’d told you he wanted to meet them at the beach.

So you thought you might be pushing him when you asked him to tag along for drinks with your capstone cohort, because they were by far the most uppity of any of your friends.

And no matter how hard you tried to escape it, you were seniors about to start the rest of your lives in a few months—all anyone wanted to talk about was post-grad. Rafe had pretty much leaned into it, and you wondered in the back of your mind what his motivations were. If he was comparing himself, if he was attempting to force the conversation between the two of you. Either way, if the look he’d given you when the sleek Uber XL pulled up to the back entrance of the lounge, and you’d dragged him through the private area straight to the VIP section without a second thought hadn’t been enough to set you on edge, the pinch in between his eyebrows as your classmates rattled off their post-grad plans definitely was.

“Google.”

“Harvard Law.”

“Interning for my uncle at the Hill.”

“I have offers from all of the big 4, just trying to decide for now.”

“I simply don’t work,” Davis says, sipping on his drink. You were so glad you could convince him and McCall to come along, to ground both you and Rafe.

“Oh hush,” you admonish. “Davis‘s mom is a designer and so is he. He’ll be at NYFW by spring.”

“What about you, Rafe?” your classmate, Meredith asks.

“Uh, my family has a development company.”

“Like, software? Are you in Silicon Valley?” Frederick asks.

Your boyfriend sucks in a breath, his chest moving against where your body is pressed up against his on the bench seat. “No, er—like houses, properties? Back in mine and Y/n’s hometown. North Carolina.”

“Rafe’s gonna be CFO one day,” you say, pushing some hair out of his face, smiling at him proudly. “If he wants to.”

“Ha,” McCall laughs. “As if Y/n would ever leave California. She’ll have you out here soon enough.”

So maybe you weren’t glad she came. You shoot her a look, but she shrugs, sipping her martini through a straw.

“Guys,” you chide. “That’s months away.”

Rafe’s quieter after that, saying less and less as the conversation goes on, not that any of your friends seem to mind. You lean into his ear about half an hour later, when he’s looking around for the waiter to order another round for the two of you.

“Just realized something,” you murmur.

“Hm?” he asks, one hand on your back and the other bringing the remainder of his drink up to his lips.

“If both of my roommates are here right now, then our house is empty.”

Rafe pauses, then throws the rest of the drink back, making you giggle. You’re sliding off his lap to sit on the bench next to him, smiling fondly at him as he tries to simultaneously wave down the waiter and open the Uber app on his phone.

“I’ve got the table,” he says, gesturing with the black card in between his forefinger and middle to your table of friends as the waiter comes by. “But we’re heading out, so I’ll let you run it now.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, buddy. You’re our guest. I booked us the table, I'll pick it up,” Frederick says. You can feel Rafe actively resisting rolling his eyes, and you squeeze his hand under the table. He definitely shouldn’t have said buddy.

“Alright,” Rafe says, standing from the table, hand held out for you. “Nice to meet you all.”

McCall and Davis just give you knowing smiles, and you can already feel your phone buzzing with texts in your purse.

You stop in confusion, bumping into Rafe's back when he halts you two at the hostess stand by the exit of the lounge. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a sec, sweetheart.” Rafe slides his credit card out again, telling the hostess which table your friends are at and that they can order whatever they want until bar close. You just smirk, hugging his arm to your body as he tugs your outside to wait for the Uber. “What?”

“You’re such a man sometimes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Because I wanna buy my girlfriend’s friends some drinks? No offense, but that guy’s a dick.”

“Remember that guy I told you about? I met his parents sophomore year?”

Rafe nods, frowning when you remain silent. “You did not go out with that asshole. I thought you said his parents were hippies?”

“They are,” you agree.

“Rich hippies?”

“Yep. But you’re kinda hot when you’re trying to prove yourself.”

Rafe forces out a breath. “Where the fuck is the Uber?”

—

Usually, Rafe can feel himself physically relax whenever he’s in your presence. He sees your smile and your eyes, feels your touch; anything he’d been worried or stressed about melts away. That had been his life all summer, his body practically melting whenever he'd see you after a rough day at work with his dad. He remembers one time, when he'd fucked up so badly—at least in his dad's eyes—that he'd sent him home from work early. Rafe had asked where you were, flipping a u-turn when you said you were taking a spin class at the Island Club. When he'd met you at the smoothie shop nearby, your ponytail bouncing on top of your head as you skipped up to him, it was like his day was starting anew.

And he’d definitely felt that way when you first picked him up from the airport. And he still felt it when you two were alone, after you finally shut your bedroom door for the night or when your roommates left the two of you alone for a little bit.

But for everything else in between—he’d been rigid. Every party, every club, and every interaction with your friends was just winding him up more. He hoped you didn’t pick up on it, because he knew he could play it cool when it mattered. And he really couldn’t handle a discussion about the root cause of all of these things he was feeling: his dad’s words that had been echoing in his mind for two months straight.

Like now, the two of you standing on the porch outside of Agnes and Beau’s—Rafe swears he can't catch a break.

Of course it was a gated community, a security guard smiling and waving you through once he saw who you were. You’d driven your Jeep up a hill to another gate, punching the programmed button in your car to open it. Rafe had white knuckled the roof handle the entire time.

“What does… what do they do again?” Rafe asks, counting at least six spots in the garage as you pull up to park.

“Agnes is an author. But Beau’s in real estate and development, just like you,” you say, hand coming to rub in between his shoulder blades.

He’s facing the double doors as the two of you wait when he feels your hand come up to thread through the hair on the back of his neck, heel of your palm pressing down until he’s obliged to look over at you. “Thanks for coming to meet them, Rafe. I’m—I really appreciate it. They're like my family out here.”

And Rafe’s softening at your tone, leaning forward to kiss you before he can even help it. “Of course, sweetheart.” But his nerves didn’t dissipate.

One door swings open, a flurry of ringlet curls burrowing into your legs, short arms wrapping tightly around your thighs. “Miss Y/n!”

“Hi Becks,” you coo, immediately crouching down to his level.

“Y/n, you know you don’t ever have to ring the door bell,” the woman in the doorway, Agnes, says. She turns to Rafe, resting her hands on her hips. “You must be the boyfriend!”

Rafe laughs awkwardly, peeling his eyes away from where Beckham is hiding behind your legs. “That’s me. It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs.—”

“Oh,” she says, waving a hand. “Call us Agnes and Beau.”

“Of course,” Rafe nods. “Thanks for having us, Agnes.”

“Please,” Agnes dismisses, stepping to the side to allow you both in. Rafe looks over at you, and you’re already holding Beckham on your hip, talking to him quietly. He ushers you in with a hand on your back, smiling at Beckham over your shoulder. The little boy just burrows his face into your neck. “I’ve been hearing about the hometown water polo boy for years now.”

“Agnes,” you whine, and Rafe knows if he put the back of his hand on one of your cheeks right now it'd be warm to the touch. “Becks, can you say ‘hi’ to my friend? This is Rafe. Can you say ‘hi, Rafe’?”

Rafe files away what Agnes says to tease you about later, focusing on the little boy you’re bumping on your hip. “Hi, Beckham.”

“Hi, Mistuh Wafe,” the little boy says, burrowing his head back into your shoulder.

“Sorry,” Agnes says, leading the three of you out to the backyard. “We have him in speech therapy for those pesky Rs.”

“Oh,” Rafe says, taken aback by her contempt. This kid can’t be older than four. “No worries at all.”

“Rs are hard. Where’s Barry?” you inquire, before Rafe hears water splashing in the backyard. You smile over at him. “Ah, should’ve known.”

“Why don’t you both go outside? I’ll bring you drinks. Y/n, I have a riesling you’ll love. Rafe, the same for you?”

“That’s perfect, thank—”

“He’s being too nice. Rafe likes beer. Or maybe one of Beau’s whiskeys?” you say, smirking at him.

“A polite guest,” Agnes winks. “I’ll pick something good for you, Rafe.”

“Whatever you have is fine, thank you.”

“C’mon, baby,” you say, and Rafe can tell you know what you’re doing. How can he stay mad when you call him that?

“Baby,” he parrots, voice dropping to a whisper by the ear furthest from Beckham. “You’re making me look bad.”

“Stop, you can do no wrong.”

“You’re right. I am the hometown water polo boy, after all,” he smirks.

“Oh, for the love of god,” you say, setting Beckham down when the two of you reach the grass. “You’re not gonna let that go for a while, are you?”

“Nope,” he says. “You talked about me to your employer?”

“Rafe,” you groan.

“Kinda obsessive, if you ask me,” he says.

“Ah, there he is,” a male voice says. Rafe looks over, seeing a tall man with sunglasses on and a sweater tied around his shoulders striding across the yard. Rafe almost feels like he’s back in Figure 8. “Y/n, introduce me to your boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, grabbing Rafe’s forearm. “Rafe, this is Beau. Beau, this is Rafe.”

“Nice to meet you… Beau,” Rafe says, relaxing as he recalls what Agnes had said. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Of course, of course,” Beau says. “We love Y/n. We’re so glad to have her. Any friend of her’s is one of ours. Or boyfriend. Although, you are the first, son.”

Rafe can't stop the shit-eating grin on his face when he looks down at you.

“Oh my god. Anyways, let’s go meet Barron,” you say, already tugging Rafe away from the man.

“They’re just selling you out tonight, Y/l/n,” he teases, hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. You’d worn one of those dresses with no back like he loved. And it was definitely not an occasion where he could afford to not keep his hands to himself.

Seeing you around the kids and hearing how you’d talked about him to Agnes wasn’t making it any easier.

Another boy is standing on the steps in the pool, looking like he’s poised to jump in. But then he looks at the two of you, gasping when he spots you. “Y/n!”

“Hey, buddy,” you wave, standing at the edge of the pool. “This is Rafe. He used to be a swimmer like you.”

“Really? Sup, Rafe,” he says, moving his green goggles off of his eyes. Rafe used to have a pair just like that. “What events did you do?”

“U-uh,” Rafe stutters. “Well, water polo, mostly. I did 200 free for swim, though.”

“Me too! We should race some time. Before I go to the Olympics. Miss Y/n said I can go in 2028.”

And with that, Barron puts his goggles back on, jumping into the water.

—

It felt weirdly domestic to Rafe to be here like this, shooting the shit with Beau like he was some sort of established adult, watching you walk around the lavish backyard with Beckham following you around like a puppy. Barron was always asking you to watch him swim, even calling Rafe’s name a few times, too. He felt like the two of you were married or something, over at some friends’ house for dinner, playing practice with their kids.

You’d sent him plenty of pictures with the kids, the exclusive versions with their faces uncovered, which you couldn’t post on your Instagram story. Apparently, Beau’s father (and therefore, all of his descendants) was pretty important. You told Rafe that the NDA you’d signed when you started working was over an inch thick. But nothing could prepare him for how much he loved watching you with them in person.

“You know, I had a lisp when I was a kid,” Rafe says, eyes following Beckham across the yard. “But it went away after a while.”

Beau just looks at him oddly. “Okay?”

“I just—because of Beckham’s thing with Rs,” Rafe clarifies.

“Oh,” Beau says, nodding disinterestedly. “It’s not that bad.”

“Agnes said—yeah, you’re right. He’ll be fine,” Rafe rushes.

Beau changes the subject. “So, Y/n told me you’re in real estate as well. Or trying to be?”

“Yes, sir,” he says, sitting up straight in his patio chair. “My father owns a company, back in mine and Y/n’s hometown. I’ve worked there since I was fifteen. I’m finishing up school this year before I head back to get started.”

“Nice,” Beau praises. “What’s the market like back there?”

“Good, yeah. Although, it’s really all I know,” he realizes, as he says it. Beau looks at him questioningly, and Rafe switches gears. “Um, but I’m sure it’s nothing like you do out here. I mean—“

Rafe gestures to the house around them, Beau smiling proudly.

“Yeah, we do alright,” he says. Rafe is eerily reminded of his father. But Beau's not exaggerating—Rafe had looked up their house on Zillow in the bathroom ten minutes ago. He had gawked, especially because that was an estimate, and he could tell it was a lowball. “So, you’re for sure going back?”

“Yes,” Rafe says immediately, like somehow someway his dad is around to hear him right now. There’s never room for hesitation when it comes to his father. Especially now.

“Even with Y/n staying out here?” Beau presses.

“Yeah, we’re um… we’re working on that. I’m not sure if she’s decided yet,” Rafe says honestly.

“Well. Let me know if you ever need anything out here, Rafe. Y/n clearly really cares for you. We love having her with us, and we’d do anything to make that an easier choice for her. Especially with the baby coming.”

Rafe blanches. “The baby?”

“Agnes is still very early on, but we’re planning ahead. If Y/n can graduate and go full-time with us right around when Agnes gives birth, that’d help us out a lot. So, if you’re ever looking—”

Rafe can feel the panic clawing up this throat, his dad’s voice practically yelling in his head right now. 'She’s going to have you following her around in California like a little lap dog in a fucking purse.'

“Beau. Sorry. Wow, I really—first of all, congratulations. I had no idea Agnes was expecting,” Rafe blurts, looking over to where you’re sitting on the grass. “And thank you so much for the offer, really. But that won’t… I’m moving home. Y/n and I are talking about what’s next for both of us but, that’s me for sure.”

Beau nods. “I see. Well. If not for her, then for you, Rafe. You could make a killing out here, compared to whatever your dad is getting in the Outside Banks.”

“Outer Banks.”

“Exactly,” Beau says, smirking at Rafe. Rafe keeps his eyes trained on you, unsure of what to say anymore. You finally spot him, giving him an easy smile. One he doesn’t return.

Why didn’t you tell him?

—

tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @amourtentiaa @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23 @sodasback @arvinrussellseggplant @cooper8224 @rafeyybabyy @lemur46

[folkloreguk]

French Class [7]

A/N: AAAH I apologize in advance for this part bc I feel like it's kinda messy :/ I hope you still like it though?? Lmk what you think! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, angst, H/N is a jealous and drunk fool :/

words: ~ 3.7 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @yeostars, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon, @tr-wemoon, @prismwon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek, @r-eadings

H/N’s POV:

Maybe I’ll come ‘round, your text had said. How did you expect him to enjoy the party if you wouldn’t be there? H/N used to make fun of guys who ran after girls like lap dogs. And yet, over time he had become one of them, if not worse. Every text, every possibility of seeing you had him on the edge of his seat in excitement. There was nothing he cared about more than spending time with you. When at first it had been sexual attraction – an obsession with your body and the way you turned him on with the most subtle words and touches – it had changed into something entirely different. The relentless hunger was now occasional, ever so often interrupted by a dire wish to see you smile. A wish to hold you, and to kiss you out of the blue – something he wasn’t allowed to do if it wasn’t for the two of you hooking up. The stupid agreement you had made was starting to feel like torture instead of heaven. He was lucky his poker face was professional, and he had years of practice in flirting and sounding casual even if his heart was beating up to his neck. There was no other way he could have concealed how infatuated he was with you, otherwise.

“H/N, come help me set up the snacks!” Korain shouted from the kitchen. H/N’s friends were throwing a party at their place, and he had shown up early to assist them in preparing everything. With you on his mind – as always – he trotted into the kitchen where a row of bowls was standing out on the counter.

“Just open and pour the bags into the bowls, will you? I still need to get ready,” Korain said. “Chohee said she might be here a bit earlier, and I don’t want to look like this when she’s going to look amazing.”

Korain gestured to his bed hair he probably hadn’t brushed once since getting up and then tweaked the fabric of his sweatpants and his old, baggy tee. H/N wanted to argue that if Chohee really liked Korain, she wouldn’t mind seeing him this way. H/N, for one, couldn’t care less what you wore tonight. As long as you showed up at all, he would be beaming. Strictly speaking, at times when he got to see you wake up, sleep in your eyes and your clothes in a disarray, it spun his head in ways no little black dress could ever do. When he saw you make breakfast in his kitchen, in his shirt, he could barely contain himself.

His daydreams of you were once naughty and gave him boners at random times of the day – and don’t get me wrong, they still were, sometimes – but it was when the domestic dreams had begun, that he realized he was screwed. He didn’t need anybody to tell him how he felt, nor did he have some crazy moment of clarity. There came a point in his days where he didn’t just notice his non-sexual daydreams of you, he invited them. His brain was imagining things like setting up a shared table for dinner or kissing the back of your hand in the dark of a movie theater or playing you a cheesy song that reminded him of you. He wanted to hold your hands from across the library table and have his arm around your shoulders to show you off to the entire campus. But none of it could be real. It all went against the rules.

“Will Y/N be here too?” Korain asked and pulled H/N out of his daydreams. God, I hope so, he thought.

“She said she might be here,” H/N answered.

“Chohee’s always talking about her. And you. About how she thinks Y/N has a crush on you, but she always denies it, saying you’re just friends. Maybe you could try and bring that up tonight?” Korain said, as if discussing your feelings for someone was as easy at conversing about the weather. “Alright, I really have to go get ready now.”

“I’ve been thinking, I might- “ said H/N, but Korain only pat his shoulder.

“Let’s talk later, at the party, okay?” he said, and walked out the kitchen. I might like her, H/N had been meaning to say. I might like Y/N. No. I’m in love with her. No maybes. He could bet all his money on it, that’s how sure he was. But his friend had disappeared and now it was on him to wait until the party began. Left alone with his thoughts.

Of course, you would deny having a crush on him. Because you probably didn’t, he thought. Wouldn’t you search for a smart guy, someone your mother would approve of, and someone who understood your endless talks of nerdy topics? Although sometimes he had no idea what you were on about, H/N was captivated whenever you gave him a lecture about something you had learned. And when he asked you to explain something one more time, you never hesitated, or judged him for it. Your kindness made his heart swell, and only when the first crowd of party guests arrived did he realize he had spent half an hour daydreaming about you. Again.

With the way he kept the front door in his sight at all times, one could have wondered if he was a highly wanted criminal on the run, afraid the cops could barge in at any moment. Some of the girls who tried to flirt with him even asked him about it, but he wasn’t going to confess he was waiting for the love of his life to walk through that very door. With little conviction he returned their flirting. He hated himself for the thoughts he had. Thinking that should you not arrive, he could console himself by taking one of the other girls home instead. They didn’t deserve to be used like that, but he was bitter and so, so in love with you. It was hard to pay any attention to the other girls at all, no matter how sweet they were being.

Flirting back at them, however, came to him as easily as the words to his favorite songs. It posed no challenge, like it did with you. When he had to try hard to make your cheeks heat up, or to lure out a shy smile instead of your genius, quick-witted remarks. There was nothing more exciting to him than to invent new ways in which he could make you flustered.

Right now, it was his turn to be flustered. Because his ex had approached him and was reciting some of her favorite memories she had of their relationship. “Remember our third date…the one that ended with us squished in that tiny dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?” she asked and blinked at him expectantly. He went along with her words and replied something not too direct, but still enough to make her giggle like a little girl.

It was his own fault she was so intent on talking to him. While you had been on your date with the economy-major-guy, H/N had tried to contact his ex again. In hindsight, he thought it pathetic and extremely stupid at that. Nothing would have come of it, anyway. Not while he felt the way he did about you. So it was only lucky his ex hadn’t been free that night. Then he had gotten dangerously close to drowning his feelings in the vodka in his kitchen. Thankfully he had refrained from this, too, because you had shown up afterwards and you had ended up having mind-blowing sex, and he knew for a fact that had he been drunk, he would have blurted out some crazy sentiments he would have regretted saying in the morning.

Sometimes he tried to signal you his emotions, ever so subtly. Waving off your claims when you called him the campus fuckboy or telling you he wasn’t really hooking up with anyone else besides you, it all was an attempt at making you see what he felt for you. He would tell you that you looked pretty, not just so you would understand he liked you, but simply because it had to be said. When he regarded you fixing your hair in the mirror with a frown, he could barely believe you didn’t know how beautiful you were. And he had gotten closer to you during sex. Whether it was voluntary or an instinct that came with being in love, he wasn’t certain. There was nothing like kissing away your moans while he fucked you into a mattress.

He was about to text you – the urge to see you getting unbearable – but didn’t want to sound clingy when you strut through the door. No slow motion or fan blowing your hair around dramatically would have made you look more perfect. The ridiculous pang he felt in his heart when he saw you hug another guy only reminded him of how whipped he was. He reminded himself that he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t his girlfriend, after all. When you then made eye contact with him and made a beeline for him, he was worried he’d be short of words. He needed to pull himself together.

“Hi,” you said, and your smile was magical enough to stir up the butterflies in H/N’s stomach. You pointed at the empty spot on the sofa between H/N and another guy you didn’t know. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” the guy said, before H/N had time to speak, and the stranger smiled at you in a way that could only mean he wanted to get to know you. But H/N caught your attention by swiftly putting his arm around your shoulder, making the stranger back up and divert his eyes the other way. He had never meant to be the jealous type. It was just that you were finally here, and he was so happy to see you, he couldn’t bare the thought of you running off again. Only when you gave him a funny look H/N realized he needed to calm down if he didn’t want you to get annoyed.

“So, what did I miss?” you asked.

His ex was approaching from across the room again, and before he could have stopped his mouth, he said the stupidest thing. “Kiss me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but he was intent on it. “Please. Kiss me. Quick.”

There was a strange emotion that crept over your face, and you seemed to have no clue why he was so set on it. Nevertheless, you did as he asked. Your mouth tasted of watermelon bubblegum, so sweet, so perfect, and he was flying on cloud nine for the short while it lasted. It wasn’t real, though. The thought stabbed his brain like a dagger. When you pulled apart you were grinning, and his ex wasn’t in the room anymore.

“Care to explain why we just did that?” you asked. “You’re diminishing your chances with the ladies in the room.”

He rolled his eyes. “My ex has been trying to get with me again, and I hoped she’d let off if she saw us kiss. And she did.” Then his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean by my chances with the ladies? I was hoping we could go home together.”

“I can’t tonight,” you said, and he had to fight to keep his face straight. “I’ve got to get back to studying first thing tomorrow morning. I just came here to hang out, for a while.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster without sounding like you were ripping out his heart. It wasn’t even your fault. He would never try and get between you and your studies. But what if he could be there? What if he could be the one staying in bed, watching as you climbed up early to bury your head in books? He’d watch you through tired eyelashes, and you’d ridicule him for being so starry-eyed when looking at you. Later he’d bring you tea or coffee and remind you to take a break to eat. Was it ludicrous to obsess over something so domestic? He didn’t feel guilty for it.

All at once, your laugh pulled him out of his daydream, and into a funny story you told him. Over-consciously, he noted how your arm went around his shoulder lazily. And for a while you sat and talked. Occasionally a flirty remark slipped over your lips, and he would always return it. It was idiotic, but he was already worrying about how much he would miss you once you went home. Perhaps his plan of consoling himself with another girl hadn’t been so bad, after all. Just as he had finished the thought, a familiar face walked by and noticed him. The alcohol in his veins made her seem perfectly inviting as a distraction, for later.

“Oh, hey. Y/N, this is Minji,” he said, pointing at the girl. “Minji, this is Y/N. She’s…just a friend.”

Instantly, you removed your arm from his shoulder. There was hidden pain in your gesture, or was it merely wishful thinking on his side? Minji nodded and greeted you, but you only waved her off with a polite smile.

“I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen,” you announced, and before he could have stopped you, you had walked off. For a while he chatted with Minji, because he had no good reason to run after you that wouldn’t create awkwardness. His patience lasted approximately ten minutes. Luckily, a friend waved at Minji from across the room and she excused herself. Although he would never wish her ill, he was glad she was leaving.

Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen, where he found you talking to a guy. Without thinking, H/N smiled at you as he came up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He hadn’t meant to look so intimidating, and he hadn’t meant to be an asshole either. Yet, the guy across from you appeared scared and when you turned your attention to H/N, the guy slowly retracted into another circle of chatting people. Guilt crept in on H/N. He was tipsy, and although he knew his drunkenness wasn’t an excuse, it made him want you so much more. Perhaps it was also insecurity making him act crazy. There was always a glimmer of hope in the back of his mind, that you might just like him back. So long as you hadn’t confirmed the opposite, he would live in constant terror that someone else could steal your attention and make you theirs before he could.

“Come with me,” you muttered in his ear. Your hand was around his wrist, and he had no choice but to trot after you like a child. At first, he thought you were going to take him out the front door, but then you made a turn for the stairs. He didn’t need to be a fuckboy to know what it meant when a girl walked him up the stairs. From one second to the other, his mood changed into gleefulness. Had you changed your mind? The mere thoughts of what could happen upstairs could have given him a boner, had he pondered on them for longer. You said nothing, only driving him more insane by the second. The first open door was good enough for you, so you pulled him inside and closed it behind you. Smirking, he reached for your waist, ready to pull you into a kiss.

“Don’t,” you hissed, and he flinched at your angry tone. He kept his hands to himself, kneading them nervously. Shit. This was the clear opposite of what he had anticipated. The two of you had never fought, and hearing your voice, sounding so deeply upset, scared him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to make out- “ he said.

“I don’t mean just now. I mean…what is it you’re trying to achieve by acting all possessive over me in front of random guys? Pretending I belong to you? But the second a pretty girl is in front of you I’m just a friend, aren’t I? What’s that about?”

There was no explaining this, and he knew it. Yet, he would try, pathetically. “I just thought you didn’t want those guys bothering you.”

“I can handle a guy by myself, thank you,” you snapped. “If I needed help, I’d ask. Like you did. Apparently, I’m good enough to be used as an escape from your ex, but when hot Minji came around you wouldn’t even blink when I got up and left.”

“Usedas an escape?” he asked in disbelief. “You didn’t have to kiss me, but you did anyway.”

“That’s because I was trying to be a good fucking friend!” you yelled now, sounding over the music from the party.

“You used me too, don’t you remember?” he countered. “Or did you not show up on my doorstep after your terrible date so I would fuck you and make you feel better?”

You looked taken aback for a moment, knowing he was right, in a way.

“It’s like you’re always trying to get away from me, but you can’t,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, every trace of guilt washed away. “Get off your high horse! Isn’t that the whole point of us? That we’re using each other for sex? Nothing more than that, right? If I walked out now, you could go and find the next girl in line to take over instead of me. Didn’t you try to see someone while I was chatting to the guy I went on a date with? It’s all about using people, isn’t it? If things with the guy had gotten more serious for me, you’d have her, ready for you. Don’t you think that’s a little messed up? Leading someone on like that?”

There was truth to your words. He had tried to find someone to date, should you have found someone too and your friends-with-benefits relationship had been over. But he hadn’t led her on. He had been honest in letting the girl know he wasn’t sure if he wanted anything serious. His chest was hurting, and the pain was only making him more furious.

“Yeah, I could have switched you for her,” he said coldly. Was he only trying to hurt you now? Perhaps, but you had hurt him first.

“Right, because that’s all I am to you,” you said, quieter than before.

“That was our plan! You’re my fuck buddy, nothing more!” he raised his voice now, tired of your empty words and signs. “You have no right to accuse me of anything when I’m playing by the rules. The rules you made. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. Start the game over. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now.”

“Start over?”

“Go back to when we were just horny for each other and nothing else,” he said, as if that would be possible. As if he could ignore the way your eyes shined, even in the dim light coming from the streetlamps outside. Like he could pretend he didn’t want to hold you and make you forget all about this terrible fight.

“Fine, let’s try,” you said, and he watched in astonishment, as you closed the gap between the two of you. When you tilted your head, he gave you permission by doing the same. When you kissed, with teeth clashing and exhausted sighs mixing up, he swore there were bombs going off somewhere in his head. Alarm bells, too. This was by no means a great idea. But what could have stopped him and his hungry mouth? He backed you against the wall and pressed you into it, hard. Before he had registered it, his hands were pushing up the fabric of your dress and you moaned, sounding so beautiful he could barely believe it. One of his thighs forced its way between your legs while he gripped your waist like his life depended on it.

But then, just as rapidly you had begun to kiss him, you pushed him away. His lungs felt tight when he noticed the affliction and confusion on your face. He wished he could make it go away. But he had caused it, so now his presence only made things worse.

“No- no, I change my mind. This is fucking stupid,” you said. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Y/N,” he said in a gentle tone. Somehow, it seemed that his careful voice hurt you most of all.

“I think we should stop. All of this,” you said. He was beginning to shake his head in disbelief, but you cut him off. “We said there wouldn’t be jealousy, but there obviously is. We should have stopped long ago.”

“But what about starting the game again, from the beginning?” he asked, too afraid of what you would say to even look at you. If you were going to rip out his heart you should have done so quickly, when he wasn’t paying too close attention.

“The game’s over. This is going over both of our heads,” you said. “I- I’m going to go home now.”

So this was heartbreak. H/N had never considered that it could be meant so literally. But he could swear that the muscle inside his chest was convulsing and shriveling as if you had stolen the blood that kept him alive right from his arteries. The pain was sharp like a thousand cuts had been inflicted on his skin, and he struggled for words like your words had taken every of his most elemental abilities.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No,” you said. “You’re drunk. You’re the one who could need someone to walk you home. And I don’t want you around me right now. Get home safely.”

That was it. No hug. No last, longing look. Just your words stabbing like knives and your ethereal beauty as you turned on your heel and walked from the room, leaving him behind, bleeding out by himself. What had he done?

[mystic-wolf]

first time with the boys // aoba johsai

Here's aoba johsais version for you thirsty thots. (Fun fact oikawas first time is based on my first time lmao)

Tooru Oikawa

You're his first.

This man is the king of flirting but boy kept his virginity for someone special. Aka you!!

You'd of been flirting for so long and dancing on the edge of being in a relationship, both of you two scared yo fully commit.

Got drunk at a Halloween party and he eventually just mumbled out how much he likes you and wants to be your pretty boyfriend.

Ofc you said yes.

He'd dressed as a devil with spikey red horns and you as an angel. He looked adorable tbh.

Carried you home on his back and nearly dropped you trying to climb the fence.

Stumbled upstairs smothering each other in kisses and fell onto the bed in a mound of giggles.

You were both still a little tipsy but he'd ask if he could fuck you in your costume cause you look so hot. Of course you said yes and fumbled around in your purse for a condom.

He'd gotten all cocky saying how you'd planned this and couldn't resist him so you just smacked his cheek with the packet before tugging his pants and boxers down.

This man is packing, he knows and he's proud.

Makes a joke about how lucky you are to have him before you shove his shoulders down onto the bed and he loses the attitude.

Becomes a whining mess when you slide onto his cock.

His nails scratch at your thighs, the bedsheets, tug through his hair. Anything to try and cope with the immense pleasure.

Cums super early. He's never felt anything like this in his entire life.

Calls you princess when he cums.

He'd eat you out with his cum still inside you, just wanting you to experience the same amount of pleasure he did.

Looks up at you between your legs with those stupid devil horns on and tells you to cum for him.

You two just lie there for nearly an hour kissing and cuddling before finally moving to take a shower and get rid of your dumb costumes.

Hajime Iwaizumi

You've both got experience when you finally sleep together.

Iwa's a little shit and flirts to no end for months until you end up grinding up against him at a nightclub and he loses it.

Has a hard on immediately and you'd just press your ass even harder against him, pretend you're too drunk to realise.

He'd wrap his hand around your throat to pull you flush against his body and mumble how he's gonna destroy you when you get home.

Literally all you think about the entire night until hes pulling you into his apartment and lifting you off your feet to press against the wall.

His hands grab at your ass and he digs his fingers in stupidly hard until you cry out in pain and he fucking laughs against your lips.

Tells you how hard he's gonna fuck you and how you won't be walking straight for a week when he's done with you.

Practically throws you on the bed as he starts to strip and tells you to do the same.

You rip your dress a little trying to unzip it and throw it somewhere across the room.

Iwa slides his knee between your thighs when he kisses you and you can't help but grind down against his muscled thighs. He makes a joke about you getting off just from that.

Replaces his knee with 2 of his fingers and eats up all the noises you make. You moan at how good it is, how talented he is with his fingers.

Iwa loves the praise.

He guides one of your hands to his cock and it looks so dainty because of how big it is.

You get him to full hardness and ask next time this happens if he'll face fuck you.

He's too lost in you wanting a second round to answer and just roughly presses his entire length into you.

You cry out and scratch at his shoulders a little until the hot pain starts to fade and then demand he fuck you into next week.

And this boy delivers.

He puts your ankles on his shoulders, one hand wrapped around your pretty neck as he rails you into the bed sheets.

You feel like he's fucked your brains out because all you can do is lay there cross eyed and mouth open in a constant string of moans.

You're already close but when his thumb starts to rub at your clit you lose it.

You shake against the bed and his body, tongue poking out and eyes fluttering shut as he fucks you through your orgasm.

So full of himself he'd just carry on and say how good he is and how lucky you are to have his cock. And even in your dumbed out state you'd weakly fight back and say he should be thankful he gets to fuck someone so pretty.

You just smirk and tell him to cum for you and by God does that get to him.

Squeezes your throat so tight when he cums and leaves tiny bruises against your skin.

He'd be super apologetic after and ask if you was okay and he'd be floored when you said you wanted him to do it again.

Afterwards you'd just lie in his bed in your underwear sharing a beer with him.

Issei Matsukawa

You both have experience, him moreso than you as he's older.

He'd seen you around college campus and got absolutely infatuated with seeing you everyday and what skirt you'd be wearing.

Got the courage to speak to you one day when you was sat on a bench doing work.

You'd become fast friends and spent a lot of time together and being horny 21 year olds it eventually lead to hooking up.

Brought you back to his dorm and dragged you too his bedroom before you could comment on the horrendous mess.

He hates his dorm mates right now.

He'd push you onto your hands and knees on the bed and nearly rip your thong when he pulls it to the side to stick his tongue against your ass.

You drop your head into the pillows to muffle the surprise.

He'd slip two fingers into your cunt and eat your ass until you're practically screaming for him to stop and just fuck you.

He's a tease and a huge dom though so he'd make you beg for him until he's satisfied.

You'd turn around so you're on your back and spread your legs, pushing your own fingers inside and grabbing one of you boobs through your shirt.

He'd let you have your fun for a moment and then rip your hands away and pin them to the bed.

Calls you a little whore.

He'd pull his shorts and boxers down just enough to pull his cock out and thrust in so hard he pushes you up the bed.

He's so fucking big and he wouldn't give you time to adjust and just fuck you relentless into his mattress.

You'd scratch at his shoulders and back, feeling blood catch under your nails.

He kinda gets off on that.

He makes sure you're super close before he cums so he can time it right. He really wants you to cum when he's spilling into you.

Best orgasm ever.

You'd just be a dead weight on the bed and he'd laugh and joke about you needing to leave before his roommate comes home.

Hes kidding of course and texts him to swerve for the night.

Helps you clean up and lets you pick out a movie on his laptop whilst he orders McDonald's.

You cuddle into his naked chest and share chicken nuggets.

Yutaro Kindaichi

You're his first.

Baby would be so nervous and shy whenever you touch him. He'd always ask if the lights could stay off even when you just gave him a handjob.

Definitely happened when he graduated.

He wanted it to be a special occasion when he said he was still a virgin and that he wanted you to take it.

You have to constantly reassure him and give him complements, sometimes he still feels he isn't good enough for you.

Asks if you can take control and show him what to do.

Please be gentle with him he's super nervous even though he wants it to happen.

You'd slip his jacket off and start kissing his neck and exposed collar bones so softly before stripping him of his shirt.

You spend so long just sat in his lap on the edge of the bed pressed against his chest and kissing him softly before he bites your lip and asks if you'll strip for him.

You try to put on a little show put end up tripping taking your socks off and he's just all giggles and smiles. Makes him feel less nervous too.

Asks you what position you prefer and you just push him onto his back and straddle his hips. He gets the idea.

He's ridiculously sensitive and asks if you can go slow he doesn't bust a nut in 3 seconds.

Touches you all over when you start to slowly move. He squeezes your thighs, your hips your boobs, just anything he can fit in his hands.

Even going slow he'd cum pretty quick, you just feel so good wrapped tight around him.

Tries to cover his face when he cums but you grab his hands before he can so you can see his face. His eyes are scrunched shut, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his forehead.

He looks like an angel tbh.

You'd finish yourself off because he'd be too spent to even pull out of you let alone move.

He goes all soft and shy again when you clean up and pulls you between his legs so you can cuddle your back against his chest.

Says how much he loves you and kisses the side of your neck.

Kentarou Kyotani

You're each others first.

This boy is so blunt and clumsy he'd just be making out with you on his bed and just ask if you want to have sex.

You say you do and get a little nervous saying it'll be your first time and he's just all chill like yeah me too babes.

Kisses your fears away and slowly strips you of your clothes.

He'd just stop and stare and get lost in how gorgeous your naked body looks spread across his bed.

Kisses down your body and settles between your thighs until you start whining for him to strip too.

He wastes no time in doing that.

Kisses the inside of your thighs and traces his finger across your skin.

He loves when you start whining quietly and ask him to do something.

Saves you the embarrassment of making you say what and slowly runs his tongue across your cunt and runs circles into your hip bones.

Definitely growls against you because the noises you make are going straight to his cock.

He's already half hard and dripping.

He'd tease you a little and whisper dirty things against your ear as he gets himself fully hard to your breath against his cheek.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a kiss as he pushes in.

You bite his lip at the sudden pain and he doesn't start to move until you say so. He's a good boy.

Fucks you so slowly in fear of hurting you because he's pretty big and its your first time.

He sucks bruises into your neck and circles his thumb on your clit until you're writhing underneath him.

Your nails drag down his back and draw blood when you cum with a cry on his name.

That just spurs him on even more as he fucks you through your orgasm saying how amazing you are and how much he loves you before he pulls out and cums onto your chest.

Licks his own cum off your breasts and nips both of your nipples slightly which gets you laughing.

You both fall asleep naked and sticky under the sheets.

[kneelesssharks]

How to Lose the Lottery

Hi! This is my first actually story post on tumblr so please give me feedback! :) 

George Weasley X fem!Reader (Muggle!au)

Inspo: this song

Summary: You’re remembering the night that you broke up with George Weasley. Looking back at your relationship you’re missing the good, but you can’t forget the last day you were together.

Warnings: Angst

If you have to go on one more ridiculous date you’ll scream. Ever since you and George broke up your friends had been insistent that you find someone else, or at least try and break out of your slump. 

You had been with George since your second year at university. He had already graduated and was working on becoming a computer sciences professor. He was in grad school, and you were a beautiful, fresh faced sophomore. It seemed simple, he had a decent enough job that he had a nice apartment close to campus. You were just nineteen, he was twenty-three. It made sense, guys your age were focused on partying, rather than being responsible young adults. 

Your first couple dates were fun, he’d taken you on the London Eye, and taken you for some really amazing food after. He was really sweeping you off your feet. A couple weeks into your relationship you started to spend more and more time at his apartment. You’d stay over on weekends and spend the week at your dorm to get your work done. Every Saturday morning you’d make pancakes in one of his old shirts he’d let you sleep in. You always woke up before him, used to your classes being earlier in the day, while he scheduled his for after ten am. He told you how much he loved waking up to you making breakfast in his shirt while playing music quietly as to not waking him up. 

Every morning he’d walk up to you half asleep without a shirt on and wrap his arms around your waist, placing a light kiss on your temple before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He used to love hearing you giggle. Used to. 

About a year into your relationship he’d asked you to move in with him. Obviously you were excited. This is the first long term serious relationship you had ever been in. You really felt like George was the one for you. You really loved him.

Then everything sort of... stopped. The hugs from the back, the sleeping in his t shirt, him waking up to drive you to class. Being together all the time made all the niceness of being together fall to the wayside. There wasn’t any excitement in your relationship, even when you’d tried to surprise George with dinner and a tight dress, with a beautiful and delicate lace lingerie on underneath, he’d be working late at the library. You’d changed out of your dress and into one of your pj sets and packed up the food into the fridge by the time George got home.

Then Angelina entered the picture. She was a transfer from Oxford that George had been assigned to show around the Comp Sci department. She was brilliant and beautiful, and closer to George’s age than you were. You were a little jealous of how perfect for George she seemed. She was tall and into computers too. Her and George even started to work on their projects together. Your first reaction was to worry, but you’d convinced yourself that you were being paranoid. That it was good for George to have a friend outside of Lee and his brother Fred. That you and George had built a relationship on trust, that there is no way that he would ever be willing to throw what you had built away.

Then it happened. One night in the heat of the summer, he came home really late. You were awake, waiting for him. Sitting in your pjs watching one of your favorite movies. You had already eaten your dinner and put his in the fridge to reheat if he was hungry when he got home. So when he came back at two in the morning, you were surprised to say the least. 

“Hey babe, are you hungry? Do you want me to heat up your food,” you asked tiredly. 

He dropped his bag on the ground and huffed, causing you to look over at him. He looked utterly defeated. You immediately stood up and went over to him. Your hands went to hold the sides of his face, but he gripped your wrists before you could touch him. 

“George what the hell is going on,” you asked in a quiet worried voice. His face looked so guilty, he wouldn’t look into your eyes, your worry dropped, replaced by a sinking feeling in your stomach. “George, what did you do,” your voice was eerily calm as you pulled your hands from his grip.

His eyes finally meet yours. He looks teary, but not sad, not sorry for whatever he doesn’t want to tell you. “Y/N...” he started. 

“Don’t bullshit me George just tell me what happened.” Your eyes started to fill with tears, dreading what he would tell you. He stayed quite as you quietly yelled, not wanting to wake the neighbors. His back slid down the door until he sat on the floor. 

“I found someone else,” he said barely above a whisper. But you heard him. You wished you hadn’t.

Your jaw dropped and you backed against the wall that sat across from the door, the one that separated the kitchen from the living room in your shared apartment. You slid down as your throat felt like it was closing. You tried to blink back the tears, not wanting George to see them fall, but they slide down your cheek silently.

“I’m sorry,” he says, finally looking up from the floor to look at your stunned and hurt face. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Is that supposed to make it better,” you ask, your voice betraying you and cracking. “Is that supposed to make all of this shit better? That you didn’t mean to ‘find someone else’ after we’ve been together for almost three years? When we live together,” your voice starts to raise, as tears fall down your face with reckless abandon.

“You have to know I didn’t mean to hurt you,” his voice is raised a bit now, his head squared as he finally has the courage to make eye contact with you.

“Oh,” you ruefully laugh, “well then it’s all better then isn’t it? I’ll tell you right now that it’s a little too fucking late to say that. To say that like you haven’t been hurting me for the last year of our fucking relationship.”

“It’s not my fault that you stopped trying for us,” he stood up. 

“I stopped trying,” your feet launched you up. “I’m the one who cooks for you every single day. I’m not the one who won’t even get up to take my girlfriend to school when it’s five minutes away. I’m not the one who spends all of their free time away from their house as to avoid their girlfriend. No George, that was all you.”

“Oh don’t blame all of our issues on me. We both had a hand in the end of this relationship.”

You stormed into the bedroom to start packing some of your things to leave. You can’t stand to look at him for one more second, much less to stay in the same apartment with him for one more night. 

“What the fuck happened to betting everything on us? You swore to me that you wanted to be with me for the rest of our lives. You told me that meeting me felt like winning the lottery. What happened to that? What? Some girl comes all the way from Oxford and all of a sudden all of that was bullshit?”

“Don’t bring Angelina into this, you know we were falling away from each other before she ever came into the picture,” George grabbed your arm to get you to look at him. His face morphed from his angry excuse making mug to something much softer, showing the small part of him that still cared at all for you. When he saw your tear stained face and the pure and painful hurt in your e/c eyes.

“Get the fuck off of me George,” you shoved him with all your strength. He didn’t even fight back as he fell to sit on the bed behind him. “I’m getting as much of my stuff as I can right now.” You wipe the tears from your cheeks. “I’ll stop by tomorrow when you’re in class and get the rest of it. I’ll leave my key on the counter. Then I never want to hear from you again. I don’t want to see you if I even hear your name anywhere close to me I’ll walk away.”

“You don’t have to do all that. It’s three in the morning you have nowhere to go. I’ll leave and you can stay here for tonight,” George sighs.

“I can’t stand to be anywhere that reminds me of you right now,” you glare at him over your shoulder. “I can stay at Cedric’s for the night and figure things out from there tomorrow.” George scoffs. You roll your eyes and turn to him. “What?”

“Of course you’re running to Cedric,” he bites.

“The hell do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” he rolls his eyes, “just seems convenient that you know you could go over to his place at this time of night. He always had a thing for you and you know it.”

You finish zipping your suitcase and stand up, looking at him. “Well it doesn’t matter now, does it? Because one of us already chose someone else.” You felt too calm. You knew you shouldn’t feel as relieved to leave as you do. That you should feel a little more crushed by the ending of your relationship. That you should be screaming and begging for more of an explanation. That it shouldn’t be as easy as it was to walk out on what you thought was going to be the rest of your life.

“Whatever, just go,” George’s eyes looked just as detached as you felt right now.

God, this is really ending, isn’t it.

[mskimkaty]

I AM THAT GIRL

angst, slight fluff, smut

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, MENTAL ILLNESS, SUICIDE, SELFHARM, DRAMA, SMUT, VANILA SMUT, SWEARING, KIM JENNIE IS A BITCH HERE AND SO OTHER MENTION REAL LIFE PEOPLE BUT ITS PURELY FICTIONAL.

synopsis:Johnny Suh, the most popular boy in college, tried to take his life? what could possibly go wrong with his wealthy background, popularity, and basically having everything in the palm of his hands?

expected word count: 12,692

release date: 01/18/21 (somehow, got deleted. so Im reposting)

details: college!au, strangers to friends to lovers!au.

JohnnySuh x reader.

Johnny Suh walked the hallways in his college ground and not one passerby gives him the freedom to do his business. Students give him a look of pity, as acquaintances try to give him fake words of comfort that disgustingly crawls at the back of his skin.

They were just into the gossip, but they never really care. It was obvious from how they whisper behind his back for looking out of place and out of character, he could see their mocking gazes every time he walks past them.

he pulled his hood up and covered his old blonde hair now dyed into jet black, the usual smile plastered on his lips was now in a tight line and was placed the usually friendly demeanor with a scowl on his face.

people are staring, not in a good way, but because he looks ridiculous in their minds.

"Youngho, if you need anything, I'd gladly do it for you." Johnny heard his Korean name roll of someone's lips and now he feels disgusted with himself for the 9th time that day, he was back to zero and the acid rushes past his throat and he might vomit with the anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach upon hearing his birth name. He halts his movements and turns around to face Kim Jennie.

How does she have the nerve to say that when she cheated on him with Jongin? He treated him like a brother. Her hands travel on his biceps, the usual warmth he felt in the past now buried at the back of his memories, and now, he's just disgusted with her. He ignored her and continued walking past her, Jennie's peers were instantly beside her to console her with words of comfort because her ex-lover practically brushes her off like she was nothing.

You didn't expect a drama unfolding in front of you while standing in your locker area, Christmas break was finally over, and now students are back putting their noses in other people's business. Especially, Johnny Suh's business.

You shrugged your shoulders and walks back to your class, this is definitely a way to start your first day at this University.

Johnny sat at the far back of the room, sporting unusual dark clothing rather than the usual light colors of his wardrobe, the professor walks in, shaking his head upon seeing him at the back completely not understanding how Johnny's mind works.

Johnny knows, just by the look his professor is giving at him, he knew and have seen that twice already — he couldn't control the urge to stand up harshly making the chair he was using falls down to the ground as he walks to the door not bothering to look back, stunning everybody in the room.

When Johnny came back to school after his attempt, he felt more pulled down in the darkest pit inside him, he was unhappy more than he did when he was attempting. The funny part? when people knew about his attempt, people started flocking around him as they cared, but it was obvious. They just wanted to be with him because of his surname and money.

Even Jennie did not differ from the other students trying to impress him. The sad part about it is that he genuinely liked her, but she was just up for it because of the money and fame, and maybe the good fuck. His friends were no different, people might think that he's happy being the captain of the football team, but his life was toxic with every moment. He was in more pain than ever, his friends who were his teammates low-key discarded him thinking he's a freak saying he needed to seek attention.

Johnny knew that they weren't practically saying that to his face, but they were showing it.

They weren't wrong, he knew that, but it was different. They were all trying to impress him, worshiping the ground he walks on and now he's on the rocky side of the road, they drop him? because their parents told them to?

Johnny empties his locker, blindly shoving everything in his duffle bag when his best friend, Kim Jongin, walks inside. He hardly shoved everything inside his bag and harshly closed his locker's door, scowling at the older boy.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he heard him. "This isn't you at all, why are you suddenly changing? Johnny, I already said I'm sorry." that's the ugly fact. People around him are blind enough not to notice the slight changes in him and the little signs that he wasn't mentally stable.

"This isn't an apology. You're asking me to suck it up. It's Different."

Lunch came and Johnny has nowhere to go, not with all the pity looks the student body is giving him, he had a take-out for his meal and had his lunch alone in an empty room. deciding he has no appetite to eat something, he walked out of the building and drove out to Nakamoto Yuta's basement. He's supposed to be dead two weeks before this day, but here he was, seeking for Yuta's dirty business.

"Johnny Suh." Nakamoto Yuta was known for his dirty business around campus, selling overpriced illegal transactions under the table, tattoos, and piercing. "Stop talking like I'm some god. No god would try to kill himself."

"figures."

"I don't understand, how are you still in the university and not behind bars?" Johnny asks after taking a long drag on his blunt.

"This is the only way to have food on the table, and I need to graduate. I rather do these than sell my body."

Sadly enough when Johnny checked his phone, no calls or messages from his parents. As cliche as it sounds, he wants his father to check on him but after seeing him in his room bathed in his blood on the ground, his father drifted more away from him.

When he got home that night, his family was having dinner without him, his younger sister, Yerim, ran up to him and hugged him. "Oppa, where have you been? I've been calling you." his sister was the only purest being for him, and he distances himself around her, he doesn't want him to expose her to things that only he knew.

"Yerim, go to your room." the impersonal voice of their father surrounds the dining area and Yerim flinch. looking up to his eyes before walking away.

Kim Ji hoon walks up to him and looks at him with disdain. "Stop being a disgrace, If you can't act like your invisible. I don't need a disgrace in this house." It wasn't new to Johnny anymore.

His father may not be vocal about it in the past but he knew that his father doesn't want him to breathe the same air he does, if God may allow it, he knows that his father wanted him dead, he wanted his father to acknowledged him, and he did everything, that was when Johnny was kissing up to his reputation of being the good son, ace-ing all his grades, being the captain of the football team, doing unnecessary extracurricular activities for extra points, being the good boyfriend, good friend, good son, and a good brother, but it was all too much for him, he felt that he was borrowing someone's life to the point that he doesn't recognize him anymore.

His father hated him so much that he didn't even give him his last name, and the ugly part about it is that Johnny understood his father because he was the reason his mother died. "You can't even do one thing properly, and now everyone living in this town knows about you killing yourself."

"Are you saying that I didn't properly kill myself?" he wanted to vomit. He chuckled as he ran his hands down his locks. "Go fuck yourself," he murmured and walk down to the guest room where he was temporarily sleeping, his step-mother hasn't asked the helpers to clean his room's carpet that is still bathed in his blood, he looked at his wrist that is covered in a bandage, the ugly reminder that he was unhappy and that there is no saving from this anymore. Finding the reason to wake up was hard enough and going to school was another thing, but he did anyway.

People still gossip behind his back, ugly as it sounds, people are disgustingly twisted. He smirked upon hearing he still looked hot as fuck with black hair, one student saying she would gladly do him, blonde or black.

"Jennie must have cheated knowing that he's a freak."

"hey, he might hear you, lower your voice."

"He needs to seek professional help."

"I don't understand him at all. His popular, his ex-girlfriend was fucking hot, he's rich, has great looks, and has a hella hot of a sister." something snapped inside him when he heard some asshole talked disgustingly about his sister.

Before he could even think properly, Johnny repulsively pushed the guy up to the wall. "The hell!" the stranger shouted as the other students stop to stare.

"Did you fucking talked about my sister like that?"

People are staring not because of an aggressive man pushing a full-grown body against the wall like it's nothing. it's not uncommon to see a fistfight for the entire student body to see, people are staring because, Johnny Suh, for once stunned everybody with his demeanor that is completely out of his character. Yes, he is a big guy, but he was kind, sweet, and friendly, so Johnny using force for the first time against someone was a sight to see, added to the fact that this is the first time people heard him cursing, and If eyes could kill already, the guy who talked shit about his sister is practically dead right now, he would brush it off in the past, blindly ignoring gossip about him but this is the first time that someone disrespects his sister right in front of his face and definitely, it is the first time that he gave less fuck about his reputation.

Johnny stared at the man that lacks the urge to answer him, him sending shivers down the stranger's spine. He manhandled the guy and throw him down the floor. "You had the nerve to run that filthy mouth against my sister but doesn't have the balls to answer when I'm confronting you?" he smirked and walked away.

Johnny spent the whole week going to the university but doesn't bother attending his classes, he doesn't want to be left alone at home but doesn't want to go to his classes. He just lost every motivation to do something productive.

Johnny walked his usual path these past few days, going to an empty room on the 4th floor of the Marketing's building to kill time, he gently pushed open the door and saw you changing your clothes. You were almost done, putting your white dress shirt over your shoulder without noticing that you're giving a stranger a free show.

Johnny freezes up, staring and lingering more than usual. He was mesmerized by how your skin glistens under the light slipping through the windows, but what made him stop on his track is the lack of hair you have in your body. It's just smooth skin all over your body.

When you felt someone behind you, you turn your body around to look at the intruder, you saw someone and instantly locked eyes with him. At first, you were scared of seeing Suh Johnny behind you, Johnny got a full view of your unbuttoned shirt and your chest clad in your undergarments. it's not like you saw a ghost, he didn't die per se, but then it has drawn to you, that Johnny, in the flesh, saw you changing clothes. Your reflex acts up and you turn yourself away from him, pulling your clothes to hug yourself, you fix your buttons as you run out to get out of the embarrassment.

The next day, you went to your usual spot in the library to eat your lunch when you saw somebody sitting on your chair. You shrug your shoulders and sit across the stranger who had his head tucked in his arms on the table. You were excited to eat your favorite sandwich because your mother specially made it for you, it was a rare moment given your mother raised you and your sibling alone, having to work two jobs at a time just to put food on the table and to send you to a good school. You appreciate her and love her with all your heart, she was the only one you had next to your older brother, you were good at being invisible, it was your last semester at the university. Trying to finish one subject and your practicum silently like you didn't exist at all. You laughed at the fact that you had no one in this damn hell, but you didn't care.

You started eating your sandwich in silence while opening a good book to read, you were happy in your bubble. Johnny must have heard you as you flip pages after pages. His stomach growling after registering the wonderful smell coming from his surroundings. When he lifts his head, his eyes flicked to your form, silently eating while reading a book, you were so happy in your little bubble, giggling while reading. He straightens his back and you notice the guy across you, putting a face in the stranger who sleeps across you.

A blush crept up on your face when you realize it was Johnny again, you remembered the recent events that happened between the both of you, and your embarrassed ass started coughing hard, you hold your neck rather than reaching for the bottled water in front of you as you choke none stop in front of him. He was left dumbfounded for a couple of seconds but reach for the bottle and unclasp it before handing it to you, you chugged half the contents down your throat and he watched you with fascination.

"Thank you." You said in a small voice.

You put the bottle back in its place as silence hangs in the air, it wasn't a bad kind of silence, but it was awkward. You offer him the other half of your sandwich as you watch him look at you questioningly. "Your hungry." It wasn't a question. You knew he was hungry given you kept hearing his stomach growling a while ago. "You know a little food won't hurt you right?"

Johnny laughs at your ironic statement but accepts your offer anyway, "Don't get your hopes up, I'm not up for a casual relationship." he says as you thought that he wouldn't accept your offer, given that he's rich and can buy a much better lunch than what you're currently having, but then again, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

"I was just offering you food."

"Thanks." When he finished your sandwich rather quickly, he went back to sleeping in front of you. He liked hearing the sound of you flipping pages after pages as you read your book silently in front of him and the occasional giggle you let out when read something funny. When he woke up to go home, you were gone, but you left your coat as you hung it around his shoulders to keep him warm.

When he came back the day after, in the library, you didn't come back.

The next morning, Johnny awoke earlier than usual, heading to his car without giving a glance at his family, Yerim saw him and was rather puzzled at the baby pink coat he was holding delicately in his arms. He drove fast to get to the university, walking inside the library to wait for you if ever you were going to be there again.

Lunch came, and your guess was right, you see the same blacked haired boy taking a nap in your usual spot with your coat right beside him. You sat across him again and started minding your business, but this time, you had another bag of sandwiches repaired for him. You weren't ignorant about Johnny's attempt, but you choose to respect his space, you knew that he wasn't mentally stable yet. He might look fine outside and you might not know what goes inside his head, but you knew that he isn't fine. No one's mentally stable, everybody has their hardships in their private lives going on right now, but the important thing is that people shouldn't use it against someone, and as long as they don't step on other people to feel better for themselves then it's good.

You might not understand what he's going through right now, you weren't friends, to begin with, but you feel for him. Sincerely.

Johnny felt peaceful for once after many years, it was an odd feeling, but it wasn't bad. You were browsing your phone, checking your emails and your mother's, clearing and archiving unimportant ones. You look at the time and it was already half past lunchtime. Wednesday is a pain in the ass for you, you have to wait for 5 hours until your next class in the afternoon. You didn't notice Johnny waking from his nap, seeing as you still haven't touched the sandwich bags in front of you, he's guessing you still haven't eaten.

"I'm Johnny."

You look at the man in front of you, his usual strawberry locks are now turned into black, sporting a gray hoodie over his black shirt and matching gray track pants. You study his expression, his not extending his hands for a handshake nor his face valid of any emotion, yet you smile and said "What happened to not being in a casual relationship?"

Johnny was taken back, you give him the sweetest smile you could offer and handed him the extra sandwich you had, "You know, some people would reply with their names." he said as he accepts the food that you offered, you look at him as if contemplating before speaking.

"Y/n"

"I'm not sure, but what department are you from?" he asked after taking a bite of his food. "This is good, by the way. Who made this?"

"What question do you want me to answer first?" you asked laughing. "My mom made it, and I'm from the same department as you, Though, I just transferred to this school after the Holidays,

If he was shocked he didn't show it, Johnny nods his head as if acknowledging you, "I just want time to pass by quickly and silently, that's why no one knows I exist here. I'm just trying to live another day until I graduate." You said making Johnny fall silent.

"Good for you," he replied after a good minute with the both of you munching on your foods. "Was it hard?" he asked.

"What is?"

"You don't seem to have anyone, do you even have friends?" you laughed at his statement because it was the truth. "Yeah, something like that. It wasn't that bad I might have no friends because I choose not to have any relationships with anybody in here."

"That sucks, I'm not going to ask the reason why you transferred in the middle of the semester because that's your business, not mine," he says, you study his face and you weren't sure whether to run your mouth over his business or not, deciding against it you stood up and take your things with you. "Let me show you something."

Walking down the stairs while both of you kept a little distance, you lead him to the visual room, pulling the keys in your backpack and unlocking it. "Why do you have a key to the AVR?" he asks bewildered.

"Perks of being the teacher's pet," you replied as you pulled him inside, turning the computer and projector on, you played a video about constellations and aimed the projector above.

Stars hover above the two of you and you urge him to lay down beside you, looking up and taking a moment of peace to embrace both of you.

"When things get hard and I tend to be alone; let's be honest, no one wants to feel lonely, especially at the hardest times of our lives. But then, you can't force someone to be there with you physically and emotionally and it sucks to have yourself suck it up for being alone. So, I do this, I take my time staring at these constellations. You see, they're really beautiful to me. I find them fascinating, they have this beautiful meaning behind them, it was always fun finding their patterns, connecting them until they're complete, you just have to look closely, in that way, you'll appreciate them more." you smile while pointing above you, he might not look at you but your presence beside him does him wonders, it was so powerful that even if he closes his eyes, he still feels you beside him. The warmth he was feeling coming from you, your steady breathing, and your sweet scent.

You spent your Mondays and Wednesdays with Johnny, eating lunch together, or spending time as you watch different constellations every week.

Friday morning, you made a quick detour to your department before clocking in for your practicum, before leaving the premises a professor asked you for a favor and you agreed to make a copy of the files she was asking for. When you came back from the printing room, you saw a commotion ahead. It wasn't you to pry on other people's business, but your legs must have their mind when you saw a familiar tall build that is clad in a black hoodie.

Johnny Suh stands in the middle with Kim Jongin and Kim Jennie on the other side. He was hyperventilating.

"Just leave, please." Kim Jongin shouted at him, you can see the obvious horror written on everyone's faces. Kim Jennie was stuck beside Jongin as she shed tears silently, disbelief written in Johnny's face.

"Do you know what went wrong? it's because you were never enough." Jennie drops the bomb for everyone to hear, Johnny was livid. If he could crush everything that he could see he would take the chance and do it. If he could take his life again, he wouldn't give a single fuck and he'll gladly do it.

"I can't believe you both. I wasn't the one who cheated with my best friend, why the fuck do you act like it's my fault?" you heard Johnny said and for the first time your heart broke for him.

You found him in your usual spot in the library, his head hanging low and his body shaking as he tries to catch his breath. You drop your coat over his head and give him the bottle of water you were holding, instead of sitting across him, you sat next to him without overstepping and respecting his space to cool down.

When he started to calm down, he handed your coat back to you, stood up, and left the library. Saying you were dumbfounded was an understatement but you choose to understand him.

Days passed by and Johnny was still a no show. When a week has already passed without seeing Johnny, you started to get worried. You wished you asked for his number, but then again, you weren't even that close, to begin with. You decide to spend your long-vacant in the visual room, playing random constellations as you think about a certain boy.

When that certain boy suddenly appeared right in front of you. "I'm sorry." He had his hands inside his grey sweatpants.

"What matters is that you came."

Johnny joined you on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, after a moment of silence, he spoke up. "Why did you help me? why do you even care about me at all? I'm a mess."

"Aren't we friends?" You asked even though it was clear that he turned your offer of friendship down a while ago.

"What you said about the constellations earlier made me realize how I took myself for granted and at the same time how ungrateful I am."

You look at him and give him the chance to speak up. "I didn't have the will to live, do you know that you are annoyingly optimistic about everything?" He jokingly asked, and you laughed with him.

"Is that a compliment or what?"

"I still don't have a reason to be here." He suddenly says. Johnny looks at your face as if reading you, he was prepared to see you pitying him but there was none.

"You don't have to look for it. You have yourself because, at the end of the day, you only got your own back," you turn to him as you give him a look. Johnny envied you, it was obvious, and you can read him like an open book. "Don't, don't look at me like that, Johnny Suh." the way his name rolled down your tongue felt flawless, as if you were born to say his name out loud.

"We all have our shortcomings, I'm not perfect nor are people around me, no one is, and we have to accept that fact, give less care about people who can't accept that."

"It's not as easy as it seems," Johnny says, your hand brushing back the stray hair that falls on his forehead as if your hand has a mind of its own. "Sorry-"

"It's fine. I like it." Both of you turn towards the ceiling as you continue to watch the stars, keeping the comfortable silence and just hang around each other.

For weeks, spending time in the library and the visual room to watch the stars has been your thing with Johnny Suh, you couldn't even imagine being friends with the likes of him, you view him as a constellation star, he's mysterious behind his disguise as he tends to fool everyone with, he was hard to reach and was always up above you, he brightens the surroundings like how the stars brighten the night sky, for you, he was more than the famous campus boy that everybody likes, even if he can't realize that.

Weeks passed by and you look forward to your Mondays and Wednesdays than the fact that you are graduating.

You were busy transferring your books to your backpack as you stand in front of your locker when Johnny came to you. "I didn't know we have the same classes."

You were stunned when you saw him talking to you in the open, students started looking in your way as if seeing a history. The most known guy in the University is with a nobody, but you shrugged it anyway as you closed your locker's door. You bite back at your tongue with all the attention you were getting, anxiety creeping out to you but you choose to ignore it.

"You weren't even attending your classes," you told him as you fix your backpack, the both of you started walking, keeping the same slow pace and taking your time.

"Well, I now have a reason, at least," he says as he grabs the strap of your bag and slings it in his shoulder. You ignore the bubbly feeling inside you and continued walking. Smiling at yourself as you forget about the stares around you.

"You're so cheesy, Suh Johnny." You giggled at him and for the first time, you saw a genuine smile creeping on his face.

When Lunch came, both of you sat outside to enjoy the sunny weather. "I'm going to start my Practicum next week," Johnny told you suddenly, and you stood up so fast to walk around the table to hug him.

"I'm so glad!" the sincere happiness is written on your face that even Johnny laughs with you.

"Thanks to you, I feel like, there's more to it than ending my life at the age of 21," he says and you shake your head at him.

"No, I didn't do anything. It's mostly you. I'm just here beside you to guide you, but it's your own will."

"I'll be honest with you, hurting myself still runs on my head but the difference this time is, I'm scared to do it." you didn't know what to reply to that so you just extend your hands towards his and hold it firmly in your grasp.

The rest of your day went ahead without you noticing, time flies by rather quickly when you are with Johnny. You stood waiting for your bus to arrive when a black Audi stops in front of you. Its windows rolling down and you see Johnny peeking through the window to smile at you.

"You want to wait for your bus or be logical and save time?" you laugh at his way of asking you for a ride but walk towards the passenger to join him in his car otherwise. The car ride was rather chaotic, you were debating about what to put first, milk or cereal, and you felt the horrors when Johnny says he puts milk in first. He was laughing like a child at how horrified you look.

"Anything's fine with me. I put whatever in first," he says after a long minute of arguing.

"I'm telling you, not to live like that!" you argue back. "Cereal comes first and then milk goes in, just imagine, do you pour the soap first before the water? it's water before the soap!" you explained and he laughs at how rilled up you get.

The argument was cut off when you arrived at your house. Johnny parked his car in front of your house and for some reason, your mother came in wearing an apron over her clothes. She raises an eyebrow at the unknown car blocking her driveway and you look at Johnny who looks back at you.

"Your mother is intimidating." He says.

"Want to come over for dinner?" you ask, and It took him a second before responding, " You think that's a good idea?"

"Come on, Mr. Suh, grow some balls, it's just my mom." Johnny looks offended at your statement.

"I have balls that girls flock around with," he retorted. You sigh and open the passenger seat greeting your mom with a smile as you ran to hug her.

"Can my friend stay for dinner?" you asked after hugging her. Johnny is behind you as he introduced himself as your friend and your mother shocked him by giving him a warm hug.

"There's still room for another boy in my house, I believe, it's no problem." Your mother stated as Johnny gives you a confused glance. Your mother invited him in and you welcomed him.

Inside, your older brother, Taeil is strumming his guitar with three other guys in the living room. "Oh, This is my Brother, Taeil." you casually said at him as you hung both of your jackets.

"You didn't tell me you have a brother." He whispered at you, standing awkwardly beside you. Taeil waved at him and you push him to sit beside Jaehyun.

"This is Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Ten. They're all bandmates during high school so they're always here for my brother," you explained. "And your mother's cooking." Ten added.

"Well, now you know," You said as you turn to him. "Let me just go to my room and freshen up real quick, just make yourself feel at home," you say as you back up on your track. "Cool."

Johnny didn't feel out of place for some reason, he was really happy that he got to meet your brother and his bandmates, they were cool to be around. They entertained him and ask what were his hobbies are and for the first time, he took his time to think about what he likes to do. He likes to draw.

When dinner was served, all the boys helped your mother to set up the table, Johnny was persistent in helping even after telling him to sit and wait because he was a guest. You let him help otherwise.

Dinner was well spent, he enjoyed talking with everyone and your mother even asks him to visit anytime he wants. Taeil takes a liking to him, asking him to hang out whenever he's free. Johnny presented to do the dishes and you helped him when he was done his shirt was a total mess because of the water splashing through the faucet, a good thing is that your brother has some clothes that are way oversized for him, and he lets Johnny use them.

You handed him the shirt, accidentally seeing a huge bruise on his chest and stomach, before you knew it, you stop him as he was about to put his shirt on. "What happened?"

His bruises must have slipped his mind and he mentally cursed himself at it. You were horrified. "Johnny, are you getting beat up?"

"I don't want to talk about this," he pulled his shirt down "Y/n, It's getting late. I should head home now. Thank you for dinner, I enjoyed it." and before you know it, Suh Johnny was gone.

Weeks passed by and Johnny was a complete no show. Faint rays of the sun trickled down through your curtains and fell on your room's marbled floor, you look up at your window and were blinded by the light, sitting up, you let your feet hovered on your marbled floors and mentally prepare yourself for the day.

In the office, your instructor asked you to copy some files and you gladly agreed to do it as you don't have much going on for the time being. You thought that it was hard doing your practicum, but all you did at the office was run errands evolving the x-ray machine. Your mind drifted back to Johnny, you'll have to talk to him. Being worried about him is already killing you and the last time you saw him was three weeks ago.

Wednesday came and you sat at your usual spot in the library, studying for the upcoming exams as you patiently wait for the tall black-haired guy. You forced yourself to do some actual studying but for some reason, all you can think about was Suh Johnny who didn't even show up.

The week passed by in a blur and on Thursday you went to your University to take the exam, you were scheduled for the second batch, and instead of your usual schedule of Wednesday, your professor divided your class into two batches.

You weren't even aware that your exams already finished as you were walking to your locker to put away some books.

You understood that Johnny had issues and you hated that you can't do anything to help him. You would do anything for him if that means for the comfort inside him and his peace of mind. You might not know the reason for his depression but everyone has a reason and you know that everybody around you has some issues going on in their private lives. You look around, seeing other students do their thing, minding their own business, some are even bored and waiting for their exams, You saw Jennie and Jongin together looking at you with disgusted faces that you shrugged off.

Johnny saw you as you mindlessly walk your way to the visual room, and he followed behind you silently, as he looks over his ex-girlfriend and ex-best friend. He realized he never really had a connection with Jennie before, they were both just into the sex, and then it gets awkward when they started to talk.

You were already done setting the projector up, walking in the center to lay down when you heard someone entered, and when you saw Johnny at the entrance of the room, his hands on his sweatpants pocket as he gives you a look, you stood up and ran to give him a big hug. You shed tears for him, as you give him a tight hug.

"Why are you crying?" he asked.

"Aren't we friends?" You asked him as you hold him in your arms. "Friends share their pains. So, I'll be here. I just want you to know that I'll be here when you needed someone to be there with you." Johnny fought his tears but who was he kidding? He yearns for someone's affection and not because of who he was but because it was him. And this time, he finally had someone to share his pains with. People already viewed him as someone going on a phase, probably someone rebelling against his parents but Johnny was more than that. He didn't care about it, though. He learned to give less fuck about insignificant people around him.

"My father used to beat me up, Football was just an excuse to cover up these bruises." He admitted. He was disgusted and embarrassed about it. But it was you, and he knows that you're not one to judge someone based off on their appearances.

You shed more tears for him. "Johnny, You don't deserve that, no one deserves that," you say caressing his cheeks. You hated the cheesy statement but you ignore it anyway, what you were feeling at the moment isn't important. Johnny was opening up to you.

The two of you manage to have time off from the university and Practicum. (Johnny started his practicum last, last week, that's why he was MIA most of the time, that time.) Johnny was hanging out at your house, the problem was, your mother and brother are both at work, so you take it to yourself that being alone with him, at your house, is inappropriate. You drag him outside, leading the way to one of your favorite diners.

"I am telling you, you're going to regret that," you said.

"What's wrong with what I ordered?" Johnny did this little thing in his nose, and you take a moment to look at him as you smile at him. You ignore the stares around you, feeling like a sore thumb sticking and obviously, out of place. Johnny scowl at the man who was drunk out of his wits, shamelessly checking you out. This wasn't the first time, this always happened, but not to you though. You told him to ignore it, that man was probably in here to order a cup of coffee.

"Their chicken and waffles here are the best! I'm telling you, I'm not going to share with you."

One pout of his lips towards you and you were switching your plates towards Johnny. You told him, only because this was the first time that he got to try out your favorite dish, and there won't be a second chance in the future. Johnny was kind enough to share a piece of waffle with you. But not the chicken, though. He fell head over heels for it.

Bit by bit, Johnny's walls crumbled down around you, and before you knew it, both of you are inseparable. Johnny dating you spread like wildfire around campus, but there wasn't any truth behind that gossip, you were just a friend. Simple as that.

He was hanging more lately with your brother than you expected. Both of them have the same interest, so it wasn't a surprise when Johnny befriended most of your brother's friends.

Johnny was going on about how Jaehyun's a chill guy, Mark, and Donghyuck introducing him to play games, even Yuta, the University's drug dealer, as they brand him, was included in Taeil's group of friends.

"You didn't tell me that you knew Nakamoto Yuta," Johnny whispered behind you.

"Yeah, For some reason, I didn't want to get involved with most of them. Some girls are crazy about them and I just want peacefulness as I end my college years." You answered. Yuta was from the same department, Jaehyun was from the same university but was taking a different course, as well as Doyounga and Taeyong. Mark and Haechan still need a year before attending college. Ten was studying arts and your brother was a college dropout.

You were having pizza night at your house, your mother was kind enough to accommodate a bunch of men in her tiny house, seemingly impossible to fit 13 men inside, but it did. Instead of the usual party that frat houses and rich kids throw around, Taeil and the others like to keep it to themselves. Sharing one shot glass and downing a cheap rum as everybody waits for their turn. Most of them didn't think that Johnny would be fine with this kind of setup. Besides, he was branded as the campus king and a rich heir at that. He could spend Friday nights at some high-end bar and drink expensive alcohol. But no, instead, here he was, sitting on the cheap carpet your mother owns with a bunch of drunk men but you were glad that your brother is such a nice guy and so are his peers.

Johnny was glad, that he found true people, who accepts him for who he is and not because of who he was.

Doyoung placed you on the empty sofa, you have a low tolerance for alcohol, and you can't keep up with them anymore. The cheapest drink Taeyong bought isn't of cheap quality, you knew better than to judge a bottle chosen by him. You watch them with heavy eyelids, smiling at yourself, Mark and Donghyuck made fun of you by putting thick blankets around you and this was the first time Johnny saw you annoyed by the younger boys.

When Morning came, you were already on your bed as your head pounds. When you came downstairs to leave for school you look around and saw that last night's trace was gone as if 13 grown men didn't make a mess out of your mother's living room.

You wished you had gotten a coffee first when you entered your room way too early and saw that most of the students are yet to arrive, even water would be good, anything liquid down your throat would be good.

You saw Jaehyun and Johnny bidding farewells at the front of the room, students who were present to see the two interacting were shocked, for them, It was rare to see Johnny without his usual crew. But, who are they to decide that for Johnny? It was a rare sight to see, A popular music major and the famous ex-football captain, together?

When Johnny approached his spot beside you, he gives you the cold Iced latte he was holding fresh from Starbucks, completely ignoring unwanted stares behind his back.

"Good Morning," there was a warm aura surrounding him as he settled down beside you, and you look at him in awe. "What?" he asks.

You watched him for a moment, smiling at him as he looks at you questionably. "You're happy," you stated making Johnny pause for a second to think, he was sporting a baby pink hoodie and grey Nike pants, holding his Earpods and Macbook at the other hand. "I think I might be getting there."

Your heart swells up for him and as you fought back the tears that wanted to fall. Johnny reached out to you, wiping the strands of hair that keep falling on your face. "Sorry," you said. People might think that yesterday, Johnny was trying to end his life, and then suddenly, he was okay, because he never was, and you continuously walk on a thin thread around him, Johnny is like a ticking bomb and porcelain that needs to be handled with the utmost care. Five months ago, Johnny doesn't have the motivation to continue living his life, but here he was thriving to know what tomorrow can offer him.

For Johnny, meeting you was his saving grace, problems might fill up in his life, there is this constant reminder that society will always judge him the minute he does something wrong, there is his father, his stepmother who doesn't really pay attention to him, his old life and old self constantly reminding him the pain of the past.

"What happened to your eyes?" there were dark circles under his eyes and for a moment you thought that he has a lot in his mind to think about for the lack of sleep.

"I stayed up till dawn playing overwatch with Donghyuck and Mark last night." He says smiling.

"I'm glad your settling with the boys all right." Johnny watched you, how your long hair flow past your shoulders through your back, he loves the little freckles dancing all over your cheeks naturally and how a touch of pink creeps in your cheeks naturally because of the humid air.

You were really glad. "Do you want to go with me and Ten?" He asks you when your classes ended for the morning, both of you walked to the library to hide from prying and malicious eyes. "He wants to hang out in the nearest coffee shop." he continued and you agreed to go with him, making a turn for the exit.

Johnny ordered an Americano for him and a latte for you, eating the packed lunch your mother made for you and Johnny as you wait for Ten.

Ten arrived with Jaehyun in tow, placing their bags down Jaehyun took the seat beside you while Ten walked to the counter to order their drinks. Johnny looked at you and Jaehyun but ignore the malice running in his head.

"Kim Yerim!" the three of you looked at the entrance to see Johnny's sister entering the cafe, Yerim waved at someone across their table and saw his sister's friend Park Sooyoung waving frantically. Johnny turned to look at you and Jaehyun ignoring his sister who started walking inside, "What happened to you?" he asks Jaehyun,

"Why?"

"You're turning really red." Johnny pointed out and you snickered at Jaehyun who turns to look at Johnny's sister absentmindedly. "Man, That's my sister!" Johnny whispered-shout at him as he fought the urge to laugh at Jaehyun. Someone definitely has a crush on his little sister.

You and Johnny eyed each other, laughing as you both understood telepathically. "What's so funny?" Ten asks when he arrived and the both of you laughed loudly this time.

"Hyung!" Jaehyun shouted at him his ears turning red.

When Johnny got home, he locked himself up in his room that his step-mother finally asked to clean. He was busy waiting for Donghyuck and Mark to play when he heard a knock on his door.

"Can I come in?" His step-mother asked. Yerim's mother is a great person, but that doesn't really mean that she's a good mother to both him and Yerim, he can't really judge her though, she's still young and living her dreams but then his father got her pregnant with Yerim and then here she is stuck at this hell of a household, all three of them under the strings of his father.

"Yes." He says.

Kim Ah-Jong walked inside, placing a warm cup of milk beside him for the first time, "Johnny," She started as he settled at the edge of Johnny's bed facing him. Johnny turns his chair to face her too, holding the warm mug in his hand to seek comfort in this awkward setting.

"I don't know how to start, but I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry," she paused for a second, ignoring the lump in her throat, "I hope you forgive me for replacing your mother's position, and that I'm really grateful because you love your sister more than anything even though you didn't have the same mother."

"It's the least that I could do." He says.

"Yes, I know, and I'm sorry if I failed you as a mother, I was busy finding myself to the point you and Yerim grow up without the right amount of affection from us. We're such horrible parents and I wanted to say sorry on behalf of your father. You don't deserve this, no one else did."

That night, Johnny slept soundly in his own home for the first time in a while.

Yerim was shocked to see her mom attending to his brother, it's as if she suddenly had a change of heart and finally started to be a mother to his brother. Her father was another problem, he still hasn't moved on from his son's attempt. Spitting atrocious words early in the morning making Johnny regret even joining the breakfast.

Kim Ah-jong had enough of his husband's wrath, it was still morning and his husband is starting to get on her nerves. She stabs her bread knife on their table as she turns her head towards him, "Is still early in the morning for the love of God, Kim Ji Hoon. Must you really ruin our morning?" she says.

Both Yerim and Johnny were stunned at her, their father shutting up in instant at the fear her wife would stab her.

Johnny and Yerim drive to the University that day together, "Oh, do you mind if we stop by at my friend's house? I promise to pick him up." Johnny asks and Yerim nodded.

Johnny smirked, he was excited to see Jaehyun's reaction.

Johnny pulled up in front of Jaehyun's apartment, sending him a message the was up in front of his building, after a minute, Jaehyun emerges from the entrance of the building running to get to his car with a tumbler in his other hand.

Johnny pulled the window down and Jaehyun saw Yerim first, he stopped midway, flustered that a girl was with his young, and It was no other than his sister. he played it cool and sat at the back.

"Oh, Yerim-ah, this is Jaehyun. He's my friend."

Jaehyun didn't expect her to turn around and bow her head down. "Thank you so much for taking good care of my brother."

Johnny became flustered with Yerim but laughed it off instead. Jaehyun bowed his head towards her saying it was nothing. Yerim was unaware of the looks she was getting from the older boy sitting at the back seat of his brother's car as Johnny keeps throwing playful glances at the back while he drove them to the school.

Graduation was already nearing, both you and Johnny were already finished with your practicum, Johnny was moving boxes towards his car, for some reason, his father allowed him to have his own flat, his step-mother saying that it would be the best for him and his mental health to have some space between them and that they should give him some time and space. His father was adamant at first but has nothing to do in the end.

"Just let him do what he wants, He's already graduating, with honors! He already did everything you wanted it's the least you could do for him." he heard his step-mother argue a while ago with his father. Johnny still had to go home every Sunday at the main house, though.

You and Taeil volunteered to help him with his moving and he was glad, to say the least. Yerim contacted you to do his groceries for him and the two of you left the older boys as you went to the market with Yerim.

Yerim was a cool young woman, she was matured for her own age, you learned that she was very frank at what she wants and that she loves her brother so much.

"I'm really glad my brother meet you," she says as she links her right arms with you, you were both walking to the parking lot, and you smiled at her blushing.

"Honestly, I never really liked his old friends. Jongin? Nope. Chanyeol? He's an asshole. Everyone in that damn team is an ass except for Sehun," she says as both of you entered the market, pulling a big cart in the process, and continued walking ahead. "You and your brother are surrounded by good people. Do you know that? And I'm kind of jealous of you, not that I don't have good friends, I do."

"Well, consider me someone you can be with so those good people will surround you too," you said smiling, Yerim giggled at you.

It took Johnny a week before really settling down in his apartment, he invited the guys over to have a small welcoming party, drinking and playing till the sun rises.

Johnny was busy typing at his laptop as you were both doing your last requirement for college, papers, and documents were all scattered around his living room when he turns his head to look at you. "Are you comfortable with those jeans?" He asks.

You look at your pants, it is uncomfortable.

"I don't have extra clothes," Johnny poked at his cheeks with his tongue, he stood up and went inside his room, when he came back he was holding clean boxer shorts. "You can use this if you want," he says as he extends his arms to you. You gladly took it and went to his bathroom to change.

Johnny thinks this was more dangerous than when he had blood oozing out of his wrist, you had your toned legs on display for him, and only him. It wasn't helping at all. Without knowing, he stared at your legs for a good minute, the urge of having his hands run along the lines of your thighs was becoming unbearable. He was amazed by the lack of hair you had around your arms and legs, was it liked that too with the parts your clothes have covered? He can't help the wild imaginations running around his head with the things he wants to do to you.

Johnny focused his attention back on the screen of his laptop. What the fuck is he even thinking? It's you, his fucking angel. How dare he have dirty thoughts about you. He mentally slaps himself and went back to typing.

You noticed Johnny having a mental crisis because of you and you silently laugh at him, extending your legs further to have your skin touch his thighs.

after hours of being productive with your work, You and Johnny decided to call it a night.

After a week of preparations for the upcoming finals, you and Johnny decided to meet up, the waiter placed both of your orders in front of you and Johnny, who give the waiter a small smile while uttering a quick "Thank you." You eyed Jhonny's food who looks somewhat more delicious than your Pesto Pasta. You don't even know why you ordered it, you never even tasted it before, you just want to— maybe, impress the guy in front of your table who were giving you obvious looks about the taste pallet you had which is definitely of a 13 Years old.

Johnny gives you a look while shaking his head, knowing all too well that you wanted a bite of it. Looking at you who's eyeing his barbeque bacon burger with fries on the side— It's usually what the two of you order and he was shocked that you ordered something out of the ordinary. He knew that you weren't the type of girl to go out of your comfort zone. You like what you usually eat, what you usually drink, and what type of clothing you usually wear. You are a very simple, young woman. You don't usually try things out of the blue, especially, when the two of you are both hungry.

Instantly, Johnny switched both plates. Giving you his food whilst saying a silent goodbye to the famous BBQ burger that he craves so much after winning a football game, which, he deserves. "What are you doing?" you asked shocked. You already saw him digging in and wincing at the taste. "Why the fuck would you even order this thing?" he asked.

You looked at the guy at the other table. You both were giving silent glances, he's good-looking and obviously from another school but you don't do other schools, that is the thing, you'd rather date someone from the same school, same department or same village. You don't like the hassle. People can go ahead and say your such a basic bitch, which in fact, you are. You finally give your full attention to Johnny who looks at his back to find some guy obviously ogling your face. That was the scariest thing in the world for him, guys ogling your face rather than your body, honestly, it was obvious from guys falling for your body— they just want to get in your pants, but guys who fall for your beauty is different.

You start digging in with your food. "This is the reason why I love you so much." You stated giving your burger a bite.

"Why would you even want to eat this." He says. You give him a chuckle as you extend your right arm towards him, offering him a bite of your burger, which he gladly took. "I'm sorry, I'm such a pain in the ass." You said.

"I kidnapped you in your after party and I'm so sorry, I didn't know Jennie's going to be there, and now you're eating something you don't even like. Man, you don't deserve this." You continued. Sincerely saying sorry towards him— picking a fry and dipping it on the ketchup provided at the side of your plate.

For some reason, Things work out for him and the team, It was going to be his last year playing, and the higher-ups decided for him to lead the team again, making Jongin lose face around the campus. It wasn't like before, It was expected, Johnny was just professional around them, leading them at the court and out of sight, after.

"What? No way. This is what I deserve. A peaceful dinner and finally having time with you." He says after biting at the toasted bread the pasta has. It was true though, Johnny was talking with Jennie again, well, but not exactly dating her, as students would say around campus. They dated, but that was that, he can't even imagine being good friends with someone who cheated on him, he was just being civil with her, ending things with a good note and leaving the better past behind him, and you haven't really had the chance to hang out together since their coach intensified their training hours and days, and right after that Johnny would hang out with your brother and the other guys.

"What did my brother say, though? with you being with me tonight? You guys are basically dating each other by now," you joked.

"Yeah, he's cool with it. Don't worry, I told him about our meeting before you actually kidnapped me." He gives you a smirk and you give him a confused look. "I was actually going to ask you for a dinner with me after the game." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Wow." You commented. You were practically like a twin at this rate. "Can I ask you something, though?" Johnny didn't know whether to ask because he was curious or just wait for you to open up to him, for some reason, Johnny felt naked around you. You knew everything about him, you have him wrapped around your pretty little fingers "What if I don't want to?" You countered and he scoffed.

"What was the reason you transferred? you only had a year to finish before graduating," Your face fell and he instantly saw how your face contorted into a frown. "Why are you making that face?" he asked.

"I had a bad break up to the point that I was destroying myself." You finally said like it was nothing. Johnny stopped everything that he's doing, giving you a look as if asking why. He felt like an idiot. How can he? at your worst time? "I'm such a horrible friend." He says.

"It's not your fault, and I'm even sorry that I didn't tell you sooner." You said quietly. Suddenly your favorite dish from the dinner doesn't look appealing anymore. "And I wanted time for myself, you know, he cheated on me."

the clicking of utensils can be heard throughout the diner when he dropped them to the table. He was fuming mad.

"It wasn't anyone's fault, though. if anything. It was mine. I lost interest in our relationship, didn't have time for him, and just lost everything along the way." You said while moving your plate towards him which he gladly took, abandoning the pasta you ordered and eating the half of the burger you had. But the real reason was, you can't stop comparing your ex-boyfriend to him.

"Still isn't a reason to cheat on you." He says after taking a bite. You move your lemonade in front of you and lazily sip on it. He drops the topic knowing all too well that you don't want to talk about it. Still, he felt guilty for some reason, What could go wrong?

Right, Johnny Suh is starting to have feelings for you, and definitely not in a platonic way.

And you don't have any idea about it.

He opened your bag that was beside him and fetch the wet wipes that were inside. He opened it and out of habit cleaned your fingers with it. And you let him, smiling. "I wished I meet you sooner," He looked at you and smiled. "I'm really sorry I haven't been with you for the last 21 years." you joked as you let him dry your fingers with a dry napkin that the diner provides.

You were about to head out— fetching the car keys that you placed on the bowl beside the main door when you hear a familiar honk outside your house. Your hands slip past your keys and you walk the small distance to your door, opening it the cold air of December heats your face and Johnny greeted you with his usual beam on his face, his left hand stretched up outside his window, giving you a wave.

You smiled to yourself, biding your mom a quick goodbye and you were off to school with your best friend.

"Good Morning." He greeted you when you opened the door of his black Audi.

"Good Morning, indeed." You said facing him after securing yourself with the seat belt. There was a tint of pink in Johnny's checks that you choose to ignore.

Pulling up at the parking lot in front of the university's main building where a lot of students lingered chatting with their circle of friends— Johnny smoothly maneuvered and parked at his usual spot.

You both get out of his car and started to walk to the building.

"See you at lunch?" he asked when you neared your classroom— you were slightly shocked. "Won't you be eating with Yerim today?" you asked as you stopped in your tracks facing him. "Doesn't have to." He simply replied and you nod your head. "She'll be mad, John." You said as a matter of fact— facing him while slowly backing away as he marly give you a shrug. "She doesn't have the right, though." you rolled your eyes at him "Just ask her to eat with us!"

Graduation was nearing and you've been offered a job at one of the top companies in the city, you didn't have the reason to turn them down so you accept and were set to sign the contract right after having your diploma.

This calls for a celebration, though.

When Johnny heard that he was the first one to know about something significant in his life, he was delighted.

You found yourself getting tipsy with the cheap booze in front of you and Johnny. You were laughing at something he said about his sister, holding the cheap beer in your hand as you chug the contents down your through. "Okay, That's enough," Johnny said whilst grabbing the cans of beer and putting them back at his refrigerator. You pout back at him but don't argue, you still have to attend your classes tomorrow morning and you don't want to miss anything for the last weeks you have for being a college student.

Johnny tucked you in his bed and you bid the sweetest goodnight on him, he leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead before heading for the couch in the living room to sleep on, since he had no energy to actually drive you home.

You woke up that night, feeling rather hot, unconsciously stripping out of your pants and bra out of habit, you walked to the kitchen for some water.

Walking with blurred vision, you find your way into the kitchen. The lights were dim as you passed by the living room completely ignoring the fact that Johnny could definitely walk on you wearing only your white tee and undies.

You helped yourself around the kitchen, rummaging in the refrigerator for a jar of water, your hands felt the cold lid of the jar, popping it open and chugging the contents down. You giggled after realizing that you should probably use glass and act like a lady for once since you're not in your own place.

You hissed as you struggle, reaching for a glass in the cupboard. "Just why is it placed so fucking high?" you asked yourself. A hand reached for the glass and you turned around, shocked and ready to pounce the person behind you.

you came face to face with Johnny. His face, only inches away from you. His hands find their way to your waist as he looked at you and the glass in his hands, he purred his self some water in the glass and chugged the whole content down.

"I got thirsty," he said. You moved beside so you don't disturb him, stepping at least five steps away.

He looked you up and down, the smell of booze around, is strong, it almost made you gag. Feeling the cold air between your legs, you looked at yourself. "Fuck." realizing that you were only wearing your white t-shirt; that you probably owned since 7th grade— Your breast was obvious that even your nipples were prominent, your shirt just hanging before your hip bone and then your undies.

You mentally slap yourself. He put the glass down and you put your hair in front to at least cover your hardening nipples away from him. Chills run down your spine as he took another step forward, clearing the distance between you.

"Hey-" he cut you off.

"Johnny," he says.

"What?" you asked, barely whispering. Your eyes moved down on their own, from his eyes down to his upper body, he was shirtless, giving you free access to his perfectly sculpted body, his pelvis, so sharp even a God couldn't compare. Again, you felt the burning sensation coming back in your throat. You touched your neck instantly as you tried to swallow.

"My name, say it," he whispered, you looked up only to be met by his eyes, dark with unknown lust as if burning you within. He keeps staring at you, keeping you captive with his eyes that you somehow felt naked.

"Johnny," you whispered trying not to sound like your practically moaning his name. He took a step forward, leaving no space between you and him. "Again." He commands you. You sucked a deep breath as you avoid eye contact.

"Johnny."

He used his index finger to lift your head as his thumb drew circles just below your chin to the base of your neck. blood rushed to your face as you suddenly felt hot on your cheeks as he put his hands on your waist again. He tilts his head, the smell of alcohol mixed with his aftershave and mint filled your senses, suddenly it wasn't too dark anymore.

He brushes his lower lip against yours that you barely felt it. He licked his lower lip as you bite yours. He stares intently at you. "You know, I would appreciate it if you don't walk around the house in these." his hands hot on your skin.

all rationality seems to fly out of the window, both of you staring at each other gazes, Johnny pulling you in for a much deeper kiss. "Didn't know you were this naughty with alcohol in your system," he murmured, Johnny's soft languid kisses were driving you wild, he moves at the base of your neck and sucked at the soft skin before pressing light kisses.

"Do you have any idea how much I want you?" he says softly, your breath hitches without knowing and you deliciously clenched around nothing upon hearing his statement, you were hypnotized by his eyes. Leaning down, he kisses you again.

You put your hands around his chest to push him slightly, gazing up toward him, "I want this," you whispered. "No. Not in the morning when you're sober enough to regret this," Johnny says, you ignore him and pulled him down to kiss him again, and Johnny lost all his logic with how delicious you tasted, you guide his hands on the hem of your shirt and slowly he peels it off for you and lets it fall down the floor.

Johnny put his arms around you and hauls you against his body, squeezing you tightly, his hands traveled down your waist and down to your behind, he holds you against his hips, and you feel his erection, which he gladly pushes into you, easily lifting you from the floor after, you moan once more in his mouth, He eases you towards the bed and you feel your back against the soft cushion once more.

Tentatively, you move your hands up to his face and his hair, tugging at it lightly as if implying for him to take you fully. But Johnny has other plans in his mind. He grabs your hips with both his hands and runs his tongue around your navel, gently nipping his way to your hipbone and across your belly to the other.  "Ah," You groan.

Seeing him on top of you, between your legs as you feel his hot breath against your skin, Is unexpected, but you wanted this as much as he wants it. Your hand on his hair, pulling gently as you try to quiet your loud breathing. He gazes up at you through impossibly long-lashed, and chocolate-colored eyes. His hand reaches the hem of your black underwear, leisurely pulling it down without taking his eyes off you, he stops and licks his lips, never breaking eye contact. Johnny leans forward, running his nose up the apex between your thighs, and you feel him.

"You smell so fucking good," he murmurs and closes his eyes. a look of pure pleasure on his face and you practically convulse.

You raise yourself on your elbows to see what he's doing, you were panting, you wanted him right there. shit

Moaning, you felt him run his tongue on the sleek of your heat, "Keep still," he murmurs and then leans down again to kiss down your clit. "How can I not move? you're making me feel this good." you felt him smirk against your skin. "Then, we'll have to work on keeping you still." there was a dangerous tone laced in his voice and you find it impossibly hot and twisted. You're flushed, skin burning, too hot, too cold, and you're craving more as you clawed at the sheets beneath you.

Johnny moves forward and you protested but the pleasure came back once more when he blows very gently on one of yours mound, his hands moving to the other breast, and his thumb slowly rolls the end of your nipple, elongating it. You moan, feeling the sweet sensation all the way to your groin.

"Johnny," you were wet, "Please," you beg silently as your fingers clasp the sheet tighter. His lips close around your nipple and he tugs, making you convulse. He doesn't stop.

Johnny moves his fingers around your clit, drawing circles as he laps on your mound,  you let yourself go from his touch. His thumb and finger continue doing you deliciously and you fall apart on his hands.

"Oh," you won't lie, that felt extraordinary, and now, you know the fuss around him is about. He gazes down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face and you're still in owe from your high.

Johnny was amazed at how responsive you are, he laced his fingers around you, drawing slow and lazy circles around your clit again, bringing another set of heat in your core. He closes his eyes briefly, his breathing hitches. You're deliciously wet and Johnny doesn't want to fuck you with a condom on, and neither did you.

He reaches over the bedside table, anyway, grabbing a foil packet, and then moving out of the bed to discard the rest of his clothes. You saw him, and your mouth watered at how long and thick he is. He kneels on the bed and pulls the condom onto his length. "I really don't want to use one."

"Is that going to fit in?"

"Don't worry," He breathes,  "You're wet enough, Angel. I know you can make me well," He murmurs as he positions the head of his erection at the entrance of your sex and pushing hard.

"Aargh!" You cry as you felt him sliding in, there was a weird sensation pinching deep inside you as he rips through you without warning. Johnny stills, his eyes bright with ecstatic triumph. His mouth opened slightly, his breathing harsh. He groans wanting to move.

"Fuck, baby, so tight."

"Johnny, Wait."

He stills for a moment, "Why?" You held onto his forearms, fucking him with a condom doesn't feel right, you wanted every little part of him, you wanted to feel him. Raw. "I- Can we remove the condom?" Johnny asks as if reading your mind.

You nod at him, You felt him slide out of you, removing the condom and throwing it at the trash bin beside his bed. Johnny positions his self once more, easing on to you, groaning. He loved every bit of it, this was the first time that you had sex without using protection, and the same thing goes for Johnny. Moving your hips up to him, as a sign that you wanted him to move already. He groans. You felt so full, as he let you acclimatize at the overwhelming feeling of him inside you. Naked, and Raw.

He eases back with exquisite slowness. Closing his eyes, Johnny controlled himself not on to fuck you hard, He thrust into you again, and you cry out in pleasure. He shifts into his elbow, and you feel his weight on you, holding you down. He moves painfully slow at first, easing himself in and out of you. You grew impatient and you can't help but move your hips up tentatively to meet his. He speeds up. Pounding on you, picking up speed by the second, merciless and in a relentless rhythm.

you can't help yourself to meet his thrust, making Johnny lose his mind because of you. Your body quivers. a sheen of sweat gathers over you. Your thoughts are scattered. There's only the feeling of him, of you, and him, and you stiffen.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers breathlessly, and you unravel at his words, exploding around him as you climax and shard into pieces with every being you had underneath him. And as he comes inside you, calling your name, thrusting hard, the stalling as he empties himself into you.

Johnny's breathing was ragged as you try to slow your breathing, your heart thumping hard and your thoughts in a disarray, you opened your eyes. His eyes flickered open and gaze down at you, dark but soft. He's still inside you, leaning down, he gently presses a kiss against your forehead then slowly pulls out of you.

Johnny cleaned you up and spoon you to sleep, he hoped that in the morning you won't regret what happened. Because he loved every moment of it.

--

Part 2? I didn't put the taglist because this is already reposted. so, yeah, hope u guys enjoyed! let me know what you think, I feel like i sucked making this.

[anna-kendrick]

holding my breath ('til i can say all of the words i wanna say)

Beca goes home with Chloe for thanksgiving.

For @beca-mitchell​

Read on AO3, or below.

Chloe regrets asking the moment it comes out of her mouth.

“Come home with me.”

It's not that she doesn't want to bring Beca—her wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year—home to visit her family, it's more the fact of how do you tell your wonderful and loving girlfriend of over a year that you didn't actually tell your parents that you two were dating because they're homophobic.

Yeah, she has a slight problem.

Chloe wasn't even sure if Beca would even say yes to begin with. It's her third year at Barden, and her third thanksgiving that she'd be spending on campus. Rather than taking a trip back to Seattle to visit her mother, Beca had explained that she prefers her alone time in the comfort of her room, away from all the reminders of her rocky childhood. Chloe gets it.

But more selfishly than not wanting to leave her girlfriend back in Atlanta alone—aka with most of the Bellas and very much not alone—Chloe didn't want to spend a week away from Beca. That's what brings them to this very moment.

Beca’s clearly taken aback by the question, and Chloe finds the slight blush that's creeping across her cheeks absolutely adorable.

“You're serious?” This is her out, Chloe thinks. Make it sound less appealing, tell her the truth, or just completely take back the offer and—

“Totes serious.” Well fuck.

The smug grin that grows on Beca’s face is enough to vanish all her worries for the moment. Chloe’s quick to reflect one back as Beca pulls her in for a kiss, a version of a ‘yes’ in her own, sweet language.

When Beca mumbles an “I love you,” against her lips, Chloe feels her knees go weak.

***

She doesn't bring it up.

It's sitting in the back of her mind at all times in the weeks following, but she doesn't bring it up.

Beca's seemingly excited to go on this trip to Portland. She says she's never been, and Chloe finds herself looking forward to showing her all of the places where she grew up. She ignores it when Beca tells her that she's excited to see her parents again, and jokingly teases her that she thinks they like her better.

Beca really has no idea.

It's on their final descent when Chloe realizes her mistake. She feels Beca’s hand squeeze in her own, looking over to see her wearing a soft smile—one of comfort and warmth—as if Beca could read her mind. She wishes it were true, it would make things so much easier.

But Beca simply mouths ‘you’re okay,’ and attributes Chloe’s nervous energy to flight anxiety. That’s truly the least of her worries right now, honestly the plane crashing to the ground seems like it could be a better scenario to what she’s going to have to do. Easier, and chances are less painful, too.

Beca squeezes her hand again, waiting for Chloe to squeeze back—their own little form of communication, a way for Chloe to say ‘I’m okay,’ without saying it aloud. Chloe shakes herself from her morbid thoughts, and kisses Beca’s cheek instead, before nuzzling herself into Beca’s shoulder. She feels herself relax slightly as Beca drops her head onto hers, and lets out a quiet hum.

She knows she's messed up. She goes over all the possible outcomes in her head as she watches other passengers deboard the plane. It's the one where she breaks Beca’s trust, and her heart that sticks out the most to her.

Beca never lets go of her hand as they walk off the plane. Chloe can hear her speaking, probably talking about all the new music ideas she thought of on their long flight over, but she can't make out any of the words—she's too lost in her own mind.

“Chlo?” She’s snapped out of her non stop reel of scenarios when Beca stops in place, tilting her head in concern. Beca knows her so well, it makes her want to cry. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just tired.” She lies, and offers a smile. It seems to satisfy Beca, who grins back and squeezes her hand again gently before going to resume their trail to the baggage claim.

This is it. She has to do it.

“Bec, wait—” Her voice catches in her throat when Beca looks back, eyes full of questions and concern—so patient and so loving. She thinks she might throw up.

She lets go of Beca’s hand.

“They don't know you’re my girlfriend. Please don't tell them, I’m sorry.” Chloe takes a deep breath, fighting back her tears, because God forbid she cries in the middle of this damn airport.

One glance at Beca’s face and her heart feels like it's being crushed inside her chest. She can't say anything else, she can't even look at her.

“Um— Our bags, lets go get our bags.”

***

They meet Chloe’s parents outside of the airport about a half hour later, the silence that had been deafening between her and Beca finally breaking.

Alice greets Beca with a smile and a tight hug. “We’re so happy Chloe was able to talk you into coming home with her.”

“She didn’t have to say much, I’m glad to be here. Thanks for letting me stay with you guys.” Beca says it so sincerely, it only makes Chloe feel worse.

“Please, Beca, you know you’re a part of the family. You can visit anytime, even without this one here.” Dale points to Chloe, giving Beca a wink and one of his signature Beale smiles. Beca giggles and looks over to her Chloe with a soft smile.

Chloe turns to look out the window instead.

The drive to the Beale family home is longer than Chloe remembers—louder too, as her dad sings along obnoxiously to the songs on the radio, and her thoughts continue to echo inside of her head. Beca’s more silent than usual though, and Chloe takes the risk of glancing over to check on her.

Beca’s the one peering out the window now, headphones plugged in as she listens to her own music. It almost makes Chloe smile, just seeing Beca next to her, as they drive through her hometown. The feeling is fleeting however, as Chloe takes note of Beca chewing the skin on her thumb—a nervous habit most likely brought on by all of the shit Chloe sprung on her at the airport. She wants nothing more than to reach over and pull her hand away, entangle their fingers together and squeeze Beca’s hand tightly.

She meets her mothers gaze in the mirror, and immediately realizes how bad of an idea this was.

***

It’s later that night—after Chloe had spent ten minutes convincing, more like begging, her mother to let Beca sleep in her room upstairs and not in the basement

(“It’s freezing down there. I’ll just make a bed for myself on the floor.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Chloe.”)

—that Beca finally broaches the subject.

“Chloe?” She hears Beca whisper through the dark. She lays silently, debating whether or not she should answer, or pretend to be asleep and hope that Beca lets it go—she already knows what she's about to ask.

“Baby, I know you're awake.” She could insist that she is asleep—continue to hold her breath and fight back the tears that are already pricking from behind her eyelids—but she knows that Beca knows her better than anyone else, knows that Beca’s worried about her from the way that her hand now softly brushes through her hair.

“Chlo—”

“Yeah, I'm awake.” Chloe whispers, rolling around to face her girlfriend. She feels the guilt swirl in her stomach immediately with just one look at the sad eyes in front of her.

She knew it was coming, but when Beca mumbles “Why didn't you tell them? I—I don't mean to pry, I’m sorry, I just—Are you okay?” tears immediately spill from her eyes, and she has to choke back the sob that threatens to come out.

It makes her heart clench to think about how far her and Beca have come since that day at the activities fair. It had taken so long to get Beca to open up to her, to even just accept a hug from her. It makes her sick to think about how disappointed her parents would be if they walked in on the two of them at this moment—their daughter wrapped up in her girlfriends arms as Beca continues to rub her back soothingly.

She feels so fucking guilty. A disappointment to both her family, and towards the woman she loves. She hates herself for it.

Beca's hands feel so soft against her cheeks as she holds them and lightly brushes her tears away. It's dark in the room, but she can still clearly make out Beca’s features in the moonlight that spills in from the window. Beca looks beautiful, she looks sad, but she’s so beautiful.

“I didn't know how to tell you.” Her voice sounds unrecognizable to her own ears, it's raspy with tears, and she can hear the lie within her own speech. It's not that she didn't know how to, it's that she didn't want to.

How was she supposed to tell her best friend—her girlfriend—that her parents would hate her? How was she supposed to explain that yes, they had met her before and treated her like a second daughter, but as soon as they found out Beca was more than just a friend, they'd look at her with pure disgust and detest? How was she supposed to bring that up in a conversation where Beca’s telling her that her father has been putting more effort in, that he's happy for the two of them and that he’d like to have both over for dinner one night?

She's never wanted Beca to feel as if she was a secret, that their blooming relationship was something that Chloe was ashamed of. And now, Chloe doesn't even know why she invited Beca here in the first place, because while reserved, Beca’s the proudest of their relationship, and she can see it in her face right now how much she's hurting.

Chloe knows it's her fault.

“I'm not mad at you.” Beca's smiling softly at her—a sad smile—one of encouragement, or one to try to deter the situation, because she knows that Chloe’ll be upset if Beca shows that she’s upset, Chloe doesn't know. She doesn’t really care either, she just wants to go home. Atlanta home, away from this life she had so happily left behind.

What she does know, is that Beca is one of the most patient, and selfless people she's ever met. She knows she doesn't have to say anything, that she could simply ignore the situation entirely, tell Beca that she's tired, and it'd get dropped. She knows Beca wouldn't push her if she wasn't ready to tell her.

But she also knows that Beca deserves an answer.

“They would hate me if they found out, Bec.” She realizes that it's been a while since she admitted this dark secret of hers aloud. Not since her first year at Barden, when she confided in Aubrey over a bottle of cheap wine.

“It's not that I'm not proud to be with you, I promise. It's just that— I’m scared to lose them. I don't want to lose you, but I can't lose them either, Beca. I'm so sorry.”

She's crying again—she doesn't know if she ever really stopped—but Beca’s soft lips are soon pressed against hers; familiar, comforting, safe.

“You'd never lose me.” Beca whispers against her lips in between kisses, and it's like a blanket of warmth courses through Chloe’s body. It's still crazy to her how in the midst of feeling so sad and confused, Beca can make her feel so loved, make her thoughts that had just moments ago felt so jumbled, suddenly so clear.

“I will tell them.” She states, breaking apart from Beca’s kiss, nodding her head in affirmation.

“You don't have to.”

“I will. Eventually, I will. Maybe not this week, but one day I will.” And Beca’s smile in response is enough for her to know that she’s supported, that Beca will hold her hand through it all.

“I think you're really brave, Chloe.” She doesn't expect that as a response, and she's ready to open her mouth and argue against Beca’s words—tell her that she doesn't feel brave at all—but Beca beats her to it. “No, you really are, and it's one of the things I love most about you. Thank you for telling me.”

There’s something about Beca Mitchell that Chloe finds so captivating. Perhaps it’s the way she smiles so genuinely and so lovingly at her, before she breaks out into a cheeky grin and pulls Chloe back in for another kiss. Maybe it’s the trust that she seems to give Chloe unconditionally, something that she’s seen Beca struggle with so much over the course of knowing her. Beca’s passion, loyalty, determination… Perhaps it’s just Beca’s big heart, that tends to tug on her own, and make her feel weak in the knees.

“You know I love you, right?” Chloe can tell Beca’s getting tired by the pure laziness that’s beginning to leak into her kisses, her heavy hands that are no longer roaming, but holding her close and still against her.

“You’ve told me a few times. I love you, too. I’m fucking exhausted, your family is insane. Sorry that was—”

“Bec, it’s okay.” Chloe laughs softly squeezing Beca’s hand that continues to lay softly on her hip. “They really are, you’re right. But I have you, I think I’m pretty lucky.”

“Oh, my God—you’re gross. So gross. Go to sleep or I’m moving down to the basement.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Watch me.”

[milfgritty]

constellation of asters | m. frost & j. farabee

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no ❀ ⇢ genre: poly!au | soulmate!au | gender neutral reader ❀ ⇢ word count: 12.9k ❀ ⇢ a/n: yea i have no excuses for this. enjoy.

everyone has a soulmate, it’s just a simple known fact. a red string, a soulmark, first words tattooed on the inside of your wrist, there’s something to help every person find theirs. except, well, you never had any of those. growing up, you (kinda) came to terms with the fact that you might just not have a soulmate at all. it’s not until you meet morgan and joel that you begin to reconsider the possibility that you actually have not one, but two.

⇢ posted: 02.07.21 . | . masterlist

There are the lucky ones in the world who are born with an identifying soulmark. Something that leads them straight to their soulmate, whether it be a red string of fate, or the date of their other half’s birth, or even a tattoo shared only by the two of them. 

You, though?

You wish you were one of them. But alas, no string, no tattoo, no drawings, not even a damn clock. Nothing to ever even allude to the existence of your supposed other half. When you were younger it terrified you, made you think that something went wrong wherever soulmates were paired. Left you alone, destined to never be the perfect match for anyone. You used to watch in envy of all the kids in the schoolyard proudly displaying their tattoos, showing off whatever new their soulmate drew on their skin that morning. Knowing that they would remember that you were one of the unlucky ones soon enough, the ones people whispered about under their breath, never loudly as though terrified if someone heard them their own soulmate would vanish.

Not having a soulmate was kind of a big deal, if you couldn’t tell. 

And still years went by and you grew up with half-assed reassurances of ‘don’t worry, I’m sure your soulmate is out there somewhere, you’ll see’ and ‘maybe you just have an invisible soulmark, didn’t you know those are a thing?’. Years went by, and you grew up, and you rationalized. 

You didn’t need a soulmate. People without them got along just fine, and sometimes people lost theirs without ever meeting them in the first place. Hell, you were actually luckier than everyone else because you had the free will, the agency, to pick who you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. So what if they weren’t handpicked and perfect for you, you would be happy, dammit.

That’s what you told yourself, at least. 

~

Done with a particularly rough day of classes, you figured it was only fair to reward yourself with your favorite drink from your favorite cafe near campus. It was a special treat that you rarely afforded yourself, what with you fitting the stereotypical broke college image to an almost painful extent. Dodging other people on the sidewalk, you clutched your jacket closer around your body to protect from the harsh wind. The bag on your back straining under the combined weight of your single (five subject) notebook, textbooks, and laptop, you cursed yourself under your breath for not at the very least putting it in your car before making the five minute trek. 

Slipping into the tiny cafe nestled on the corner, you allowed yourself a sigh of relief. You took the moment to drop your stuff at a vacant table before making your way to the counter. Waiting in line, your eyes scanned the menu despite knowing exactly what you would get, as you did every time you let yourself come here. Back aching and your hand attempting to massage it from the worst possible angle, the line continued to shorten until you could order and retreat back to your table. 

You were tempted to stay, even after getting your coffee. Free wifi, decent music, and minimal noise? Easily get through at least homework for one class. But a larger part of you yearned for your warm bed and cozy blankets, preferably with pajamas. And so, it was with maximum effort that you picked back up your bag and coffee and slipped out the door and into the windy outdoors once more. 

The walk back to your car was more bearable with the addition of a hand warmer, so much so that you took the longer way through the small park you had walked past on your way there. With the trees above and around you and the dancing leaves raining down, their colors slowly changing from their normal shade to the yellows and oranges of autumn, a smile slipped onto your lips. Your eyes lingered on the flowers lining the pathway, your mind trying futilely to identify which ones they wer—

A body slammed into yours, shoulders knocking violently as you were shoved off balance. Your still mostly full coffee fell from your hand, lid flying off and spilling onto the ground. You landed miraculously not in the growing puddle of hot coffee, but still flat on your ass as you stared up in shock at the man who had somehow remained standing. 

Seconds ticked by as you stared at each other, uncomprehending. The tall and outrageously sturdy stranger broke through his shock first.

“I’m so sorry, holy shit,” he rushed out, hand reaching down to help you up. Gazing unblinking at the outstretched limb, you allowed him to pull you up. Bare skin touching yours, you only allowed a split second of disappointment when there was no discernable reaction before smothering it back down.

Really, you thought, what did I expect? A mark to show up on our hands linking us together? How naive. You really thought you had gotten passed doing that.

“It—it’s fine,” you mumbled, sparing a despaired glance down at your spilled coffee, “don’t worry about it.” How neither you nor your bag didn’t end up in the puddle was beyond you, but you’ll take it. 

His gaze followed yours, landing on the pitiful cup. “Fuck, your drink, I’m so sorry.”

“Seriously, it’s fine. Stop apologizing,” you told him, adjusting your bag and turning to leave. There was no way you were going back to the cafe and getting another drink, this one was already indulging yourself. 

“No, hey,” he lightly grabbed your jacket, stopping you. “Let me buy you a new one, make it up to you for spilling that one.” 

Suddenly much closer to his tall frame, your eyes caught on his brown ones. There was just something about him that you could already feel your resolve chipping away. 

“I was on my way to Starbucks anyway, it’s no problem,” he continued, as though sensing he was breaking you down. At the mention of Starbucks, though, your nose involuntarily scrunched. Something he definitely caught. “Or wherever it was you got that,” he laughed, his smile making your heart catch a beat. 

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Not when he’s oddly pretty and he could have a soulmate who’s not you and—

“Yea, sure.” You smiled, “Luckily for you, it’s pretty close to here.”

His smile widened, eyes crinkling at the corner, and his hand dropped from your sleeve. It was strange how much you felt its absence, but you pushed the thought away. “After you then,” he stepped aside, gesturing you forward. 

Moving around him, you fell in step together, going back the way you came. 

“I’m Morgan, by the way,” he—Morgan—introduced himself after a beat. Studying him for a split second, you thought the name suited him. 

“Y/N,” you said in response, ignoring the way his smile made you want to smile, too.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” And the two of you kept walking. 

~

Two months. It had been two months of hearing Morgan talk about Y/N this, Y/N that, and Joel still wasn’t quite sure if he liked or hated you. 

Depends on the day, really.

It wasn’t anything against you as a person; it was just, well. He wasn’t sure what it was if he was being completely honest. Maybe it was the way Morgan brightened at the mention of your name, maybe it was how he always brought you up in conversation, maybe it was how obvious it was that he liked you.

But he definitely wasn’t jealous. Of course not. How ridiculous.

He watched Morgan move around in their shared kitchen, rambling on and on. Something about how you joked earlier when you were hanging out that you would wear his jersey if he bought it for you. At that moment, he couldn’t hold the thing he couldn’t quite identify in anymore. “So have you brought up how you feel, yet?” 

Morgan stopped and closed the fridge door that he had half his body shoved inside and digging around in as he turned to face him. Brows furrowed, he shook his head with a look of poorly feigned confusion. “I—what? No, it’s not like that. Why would you even ask that?” he questioned, staring him down.

Joel shrugged, fidgeting on the stool he had perched himself on when Morgan went into the kitchen. He really wasn’t sure why he had asked. He just had. A part of him didn’t want to know why.

“Just feels like the two of you have been hanging out as much as you can. The way you talk, it’s pretty obvious how you, at least, feel,” he replied. He picked at his sweats, avoiding his roommate's gaze.

Morgan cleared his throat, turning back to the fridge. “I don’t—not like that, man,” he told him over his shoulder. He gave the fridge a second glance before closing the door, walking past Joel and out of the kitchen. 

“It’s not a big deal if you do,” Joel said as he followed him back into the living room. “You haven’t found your soulmate yet, plenty of people date before they do.”

“Why are you so concerned about it, Beezer?” Morgan pivoted on his heel to face him, forcing Joel to stop in his tracks unless he wanted to run him down. 

“I—I don’t, I’m not,” he answered, mind racing, “I just think you’ve been practically obsessed with them for months and I haven’t even met them—”

Morgan laughed sharply, cutting him off, “Is that what this is about? Seriously?”

“I mean, kinda? It’d be nice, at least.”

“Fine, then I’ll ask if we can all do something together this weekend. Is that good for you, Joel?”

Ignoring the sarcasm in his last sentence, he maneuvered around his body and flopped down onto the couch. “It is actually, thanks.” In his head, however, he was less certain. How was he gonna be able to interact with you? Would his jealousy—no, not jealousy—be obvious to Morgan, to you?

Aside from the noise coming from the TV, the next few minutes passed in relative silence after Morgan crashed down next to him. Their previous conversation already partially forgotten, Joel became focused on the shitty reality show that had started to play without them noticing earlier. 

“Look, it’s not like I’m an idiot,” Morgan started suddenly, scaring him slightly. Joel’s head turned toward him, brow lifting in question. Morgan glanced at him before returning his gaze to the TV and continuing. “It’s just, yea. Maybe you’re right.”

He trailed off, leaving him to wait. “And?”

Morgan rolled his eyes and shuffled further into the couch. “And, I don’t know if I even have a soulmate,” he steamrolled on, “Just because I might not doesn’t mean—doesn’t mean no one does, you know? I don’t want to be the selfish asshole who gets into a relationship with someone who might have a perfect match waiting for them, someone that isn’t me.” 

“You don’t know if you have a soulmate?” The piece of information stuck out to him. Hit him in the gut and made his heart jump into his throat.

His roommate shrugged, continued to steadfastly ignore him. “Never had a mark or any of the other shit people had. It’s not—not that big of a deal. But I don’t want to be with someone and always be afraid that they’re going to find what I can’t and leave me behind.” 

Joel swallowed roughly, his heart racing. “Oh,” he mumbled, voice as quiet as Morgan’s had become by the time he had gotten done speaking.

“Yea,” Morgan huffed a bitter sounding laugh, “Oh.”

“You know,” Joel spoke lightly, softly, as though worried that talking too loud would ruin everything, “People always say that things work out in the end, even if it’s shit getting there.”

This time the laugh that escaped Morgan was more real, less cold. “Is that your way of making me feel better, Beezer?”

“Depends,” he smiled, bright at the sound of his laugh, “is it working?”

Morgan threw a pillow at him, it bouncing lightly off his head. “Dude, shut up,” he told him, the smile on his face softening his words. Following his advice, Joel adjusted himself on the couch, heart feeling just a bit lighter than it had previously.

~

“So I was thinking,” Morgan started as you walked down the street together.

“Absolutely shocking, continue,” you cut in, rewarded with a shove as you laughed.

“As I was saying,” he stressed, “You should come over for a game night or something this weekend.”

“Uh,” you stuttered out. “Yea, sure. Sounds fun. Will Joel be there?” You hadn’t meant to sound so shocked, but as it was, you most definitely were. In the what, two, three? Months since you had known Morgan, you never went to his place. Never met his elusive roommate. Sure, you had heard about Joel. It was hard not to when Morgan could—and had—talk for hours about his teammate. 

But you had never met him. And to be honest, at this point you were kinda scared to. 

Sure, he seemed like a nice enough guy. Except he clearly meant the world to Morgan, and well, Morgan meant the world to you. And yea, you weren’t sure when he began to mean so much, but he does. And you want Joel to like you. What if he doesn’t?

“Yea, Beezer’ll be there. Finally get to meet him.” He nudged you lightly, shooting you a smile. Smiling nervously back, you ducked under his arm and into the cafe as he held the door open for you. 

Coming to the little cafe on the corner had become tradition, Morgan falling in love with the shop just as much as you had. It didn’t bother you in the slightest since he pays for you whenever you two come. Which is, to say, far too often.

Placing both of your orders and finding a table, you turned to your friend. “Do you think,” you began nervously, picking at the edge of the table, “do you think he’ll like me? Joel?”

Morgan looked up from his phone and tilted his head. “Of course he will. Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, lying through your teeth. “It’s just, he’s your roommate—and your teammate—and wouldn’t it be, like, a little awkward if he actually hates me?”

Your question seemed to stump Morgan for a minute, his mouth opening and closing, eyebrows scrunched up as he looked at you from across the tiny table. You sat quietly, watching him think over his answer. Eyes wandering his face, your lips quirked as you just managed to pick out the way his lashes curled at the ends. So unfair, you thought, why does he get the long eyelashes? Finally, he seemed to get his words in order.

“Even if he doesn’t like you, which he definitely won’t,” he rushed out the last half, “But if he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like we would stop hanging out or anything. We would just, just keep hanging out the way we have been.”

Watching him, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Promise?” you asked, voice coming out quieter than you had wanted. You hated the way you feared losing Morgan, scared that he had wormed his way into your life so quickly. 

His foot nudged yours under the table, breaking you out of your thoughts. Eyes meeting yours, your heart gave a tug at the sweet smile dancing across his lips. “Yea,” he told you, “I promise.”

Breath catching, you smiled back. “Then this weekend it is.”

~

The weekend came far sooner than you expected. 

“But you’re on your way, right?” Morgan questioned you over the phone. Figured you were running late today of all days. It was Saturday, dammit, you slept in late. That wasn’t a crime.

“Yes, Morg, I’m on my way. Leaving right now,” you reassured him, grabbing your keys off the counter and making your way to your door.

You heard his—frankly, exaggerated—breath of relief even on your end, gaining a fond eye roll out of you. “Okay, good,” he replied, “See you in like, twenty?”

“Uh-huh,” you muttered halfheartedly in response, more focused on locking up behind you. “I’ll see you in twenty.”

The only downside, of course, is that twenty minutes was definitely not enough time to settle your anxiety. And so soon enough, you were at Morgan’s shared apartment, and walking up to Morgan’s shared apartment, and oh god you were in front of his door, oh no—

This is fine. This is fine. Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that no matter what, even if Joel didn’t like you, Morgan wouldn’t drop you. He promised. 

Christ, that sounded lame even in your head. 

Psyching yourself up, you raised your hand to their door and knocked. Ignoring the way your hand trembled lightly, you almost jumped when the door swung open faster than you expected.

“Hey,” Morgan appeared in the doorway, beaming down at you, “You made it.”

A snort left you without your permission. “Yea, you dork, I made it.” 

Catching his eye roll, you grinned as he stepped aside and swept his hand out. “Welcome to our apartment.” Your grin widened at how dumb he was and moved past him, brushing lightly against him as you entered. 

Walking in, your eyes caught on the form draped against the couch. Heart stuttering, all the anxiety that had briefly left you came flooding back. Morgan stepped around you, guiding you over to the living room. 

“Hey, asshole, you gonna say hi or what?” he asked, picking up a pillow and throwing it at Joel. It thumped softly onto his chest and rolled off the couch, causing him to glare up at Morgan. 

You stared wide eyed as Joel huffed and slung his legs over the side of the couch, standing up and unfolding to a height similar to Morgan. Giants, you scoffed lightly under your breath, they’re literally giants. Casually, you maneuvered until your body was just barely behind Morgan.

“Sup,” he did a weird head nod thing, his eyes roaming up and down your body. “I’m Joel, it’s uh—it’s nice to finally meet you.”

You smiled weakly up at him. “Y/—” you tried, cutting yourself off and clearing your throat, “Y/N. Nice to finally meet you, too.”

The two of you stared the other down, silence filling the room as Morgan watched the two of you watching each other. Rocking on your heels, you alternated between looking at him and around the room. 

“You know, uh,” Joel started abruptly, slipping his hands into the pockets of his sweats, “Frosty talks a lot about you. Can’t shut up, I don’t think.”

“Dude,” Morgan hissed at him as a laugh slipped past your lips. You felt your cheeks warm, your smile finally feeling less forced and more genuine.

“It’s funny,” you told him, ignoring Morgan, “he talks a lot about you, too. Once he gets started, it seems like he can’t stop.”

“I hate both of you. Why did I think this was a good idea,” Morgan said, throwing his hands up and slipping in between the two of you into what you assumed was the kitchen. The sound of yours and Joel’s laughter followed him, the pair of you sharing a conspirator’s smile. 

Joel was the first to break, his smile lingering as he spared you a glance and followed Morgan. “Don’t be like that, Morg. We’re getting along already. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

Giggling, you walked in after them. “I don’t know what I was worried about,” you teased, sidling up to the counter, “Joel is great.” 

“Oh, you would think so,” Morgan rolled his eyes, pulling a sweet tea out of the fridge and handing it to you. Smiling in thanks, you opened it and took a sip.

“Wait,” Joel stopped and shook his head, “were you actually worried about meeting me?”

Eyes widening and head shooting up, you were positive panic flitted across your face. “Uhhh,” you started, shifting from foot to foot and shrugging, “A little? I mean, you’re his roommate and teammate and he talks about you all the time—”

“—I do not—”

“Yea, you do, Morg,” you laughed, glancing over at him before returning your attention to Joel. “But, yea. After so long without meeting, I guess I kinda built you up in my head and I got worried you wouldn’t like me and things would, I don’t know, be awkward for Morgan. It’s dumb.”

It was dumb, you realized, standing there. Joel was...you didn’t even know how to describe it. He was soothing. Calming in the same way Morgan was to you, like a balm to your anxiety. Easy to talk to, joke with. It had barely been ten minutes and already you could tell that. It was the same feeling that made you let Morgan buy you another drink when you first met.

“It’s not dumb,” he told you, lifting one shoulder in a half shrug, “I guess I felt the same way.”

“Really?” you asked, surprised. For some reason, you didn’t really expect him to feel much of, well, anything when it came to meeting you.

Grinning, he nudged your foot. “Don’t look so shocked. Even NHLers have feelings, you know.”

“Shut up,” both you and Morgan chorused, glancing at each other before laughing. It was then you realized how close the three of you were, the kitchen not exactly the largest room. If you moved one way, you’d bump into Morgan. If you moved the other, it would be Joel. 

“Wanna play fortnite or something?” Morgan asked, clearing your thoughts. He knew you well enough to figure out what the scrunch of your nose after his suggestion meant. “Or not fortnite, you have a better idea?”

“What else do you guys have?” You asked, hoping against odds they would have something that wasn’t completely awful. 

Joel and Morgan shared a look, communicating silently. 

“Uhh,” Joel started, “I think we have like, Skyrim? Never got around to playing it, though.”

Eyes immediately brightening, you straightened. You almost didn’t notice how the move brought you that much closer to him. “Dude, Skyrim came out like ten years ago. How have you never played?”

“Looks like Skyrim, it is,” Morgan muttered, squeezing past you to the living room. 

“I don’t know,” Joel tried to defend himself, “It’s not what I usually play.”

“Well, that changes today, buddy.” 

“Did you just call him buddy, oh my god,” you heard Morgan’s voice distantly, covered mostly by Joel’s shocked snort. 

Thirty minutes later found the three of you sprawled across the couch, limbs just barely intertwining as Joel tried still to make his way through the character creation screen. 

“Is that a cat? Do they have fucking furries in this game?”

“I swear, I’m gonna throw my sweet tea at you,” you threatened while swallowing down laughter at Joel’s commentary.

“Do it, I’m not getting you another one,” Morgan told you, his hand lying lightly on the bottom of your calf. 

“Yea, you would,” you smiled over at him. 

A snort came from Joel’s direction, followed by, “Dude, you would.”

“Shut the fuck up, Beezer, I didn’t ask you.”

Mock gasping, you reached over and hit Morgan’s shoulder, eliciting a sharp ‘hey’ from him. “No being mean to each other,” you laughed, settling back down, shoulder brushing against Joel’s side.

“You heard the lady, Frosty,” Joel smirked, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“I’m never letting the two of you hang out again,” Morgan groaned, throwing his head back. His thumb had paused in the motion of rubbing circles into your leg. 

Exchanging a glance with the boys, you smiled. “I think it might be a bit too late for that.”

~

“You know,” you had innocently told Morgan and Joel a few days ago, “it’s kinda funny that two of my closest friends are professional ice hockey players and I’ve never even gone skating before.”

He was shocked at the revelation. Horrified, even. And definitely planning on rectifying that minor fact, something Joel fully supported and helped plan. Sadly, it took a few days before he and Joel were both home and didn’t have practice or a game and you didn’t have classes or homework, leaving the three of you able to hang out. 

He always counted it as a minor miracle when all of your schedules lined up. In the months he and Joel had known you, it happened far less than he would’ve liked. But as much as it felt better, more…more right, for it to be the three of you—which was normal, you were best friends; he didn’t like one of you more than the other—he took what he could get and didn’t complain. 

Much.

That’s how Morgan found himself at an ice rink with his two closest friends on his day off, watching one of them tie the other’s skate.

“You could’ve done this yourself,” Joel told you, fingers making quick work of your laces.

You beamed down at him, a satisfied little smile on your face, “But you do it so much better than me.”

Morgan laughed to himself, bending down to finish lacing up his own skates. Joel had gotten his done first and found himself helping you, not that he exactly put up a fight. Finishing up, he stood and leaned against the boards, peering down as Joel worked. 

“You waiting for us? That’s so sweet,” you smiled up at him, resting your weight on your hands behind you. 

Joel huffed a laugh and half turned to look over his shoulder at him, flashing him a smirk, the asshole. “Our Morgan? He’s just a sweetheart, isn’t he?”

Morgan reached out and kicked him, mindful of the blade of his skate. Rolling his eyes, he maneuvered around both of you and stepped out onto the ice. 

“Just for that, I’m going without the both of you.”

Hearing the teasing calls of his name accompanied by laughter, he smiled and went to do laps around the rink. Slowly he went through the motions, glancing behind him now and then to see if Joel had finished yet. 

When he finally did, Morgan made his way back to the two of you. “You ready to see what you’ve been missing out on?” He teased, eyes catching on the way you wobbled unsteadily and clutched tightly to Joel’s arm next to you. 

“Quick question,” your laugh came out high pitched and as unsteady as your walk, “just how hard is skating?”

“Please, don’t worry,” Joel scoffed, shortening his steps to help you. Morgan watched his teammate stabilize you, the steady rock to your choppy sea. “Skating is one of the easiest things in the world.”

“Okay, let me rephrase,” a cheeky smile flitted across your lips, “how hard is skating for us normal people?”

He shared a fond look with Joel, laughing quietly. “Trust us, you’ll be fine.” 

“I do,” you responded without a moment’s hesitation, pausing in your baby steps before continuing. “Trust you, I mean.”

The breath left his lungs in a quick rush, not expecting that, not expecting how sincere and matter of fact you had said it or how it affected him. It wasn’t fair, how quickly you could throw him off balance with what seemed like barely a thought. 

Joel cleared his throat, his hand tightening around yours. “Good,” he told you, voice remarkably soft and low before returning to normal. “I guess it’s time to get you on the ice, then?”

Morgan had to laugh a little at the fear that filled your face at Joel’s words, the way you immediately clung somehow even tighter to him. Smiling, he reached out to you, offering you his hand.

“You said you trusted us,” he told you, “So trust us. We’re not gonna let you get hurt.”

He watched your eyes meet his and fly down to his outstretched hand, back and forth between the two. One of your hands slowly let go of their iron grip on Joel and settled into his.

“Promise?” You looked from him to Joel, eyes painfully doelike. 

Once again, he shared a soft glance with his teammate before looking back at you. 

“We promise.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and appearing to steel yourself. “Okay, alright, I’m good. Let’s fucking do this.”

Laughter peeled out of him and Joel. “There’s our Y/N,” his teammate grinned, helping you out onto the ice. The two of them kept their grips on you tight as you shakily stepped onto the ice, making sure you didn’t immediately fall.

Your first steps were wobbly, with the only thing keeping you from eating ice being him and Joel. Slowly, the three of you made your way across the ice. “There you go,” he encouraged you, “just like that. Slow and steady for right now—”

“Head up, try not to look down so much, alright? We’ve got you,” Joel reassured, the two of them going back and forth, offering advice and making sure nothing happened.

It took a bit, but soon you were giggling and flashing them pretty smiles, your grip on them loosening slowly but surely. It was enough for Morgan to speed up and swing around to skate backward in front of you.

Catching your worried glance, he smiled. “Still here, just letting you skate more on your own,” he squeezed your hand, now being held more for assurance than to help keep you up.

And so the three of you kept skating around the rink with you getting more and more confident until you were on your own and no longer needed them to hold on to. Morgan watched proudly as you went from wobbly steps to actual skating, though your arms still stayed out by your sides for balance. 

“Show off,” you yelled and laughed, attempting to shove Joel when he went to skate in wide circles around both of you. 

“What?” Joel threw his hands up, laughing loudly and dodging you. “I’m just skating circles around you.” 

“Ha ha,” Morgan grinned when you sarcastically laughed at Joel’s antics. “You’re simply hilarious, you dork.”

“I know,” Joel smiled happily, swooping in to smack a loud kiss to your cheek before speeding away. The kiss nearly knocked you over, leaving you gawking after him.

Morgan observed the two of you as he glided in front of you, a wide smile stretching across his lips. Small huffs of laughter left you as you skated—still not great, but definitely better—over to him, grabbing his hand and trying to tug him. 

“Morgan, come on,” you giggled, “help me avenge my honor.” 

“Oh, of course,” he replied, nodding his head in mock seriousness. He pulled you along in chase of Joel, the three of you laughing as you went around and around the rink. 

It wasn’t until you two caught him—Morgan suspected Joel had let them catch him, like they wouldn’t have been able to eventually—and Joel decided to try to teach you how to skate backward as Morgan followed that he realized something. 

He realized as he watched the two of you smiling and laughing, as he skated behind while Joel held your hands, as both of you made corny jokes and looked back at him to make sure he was still with you, he realized that—fuck.

He was fucked. 

Because he looked at you and heard your laughter and felt his heart tighten. Because he looked at Joel and the way he looked back at him with a fond look and toothy grin, and his heart stopped.

Because he looked at both of you and felt the same exact thing. And he realized it didn’t feel right when all three of you were together because you were just his closest friends. 

It was because when he was with the two of you, his heart skipped beats and all of these feelings weighed him down and lifted him up and—and—

Fuck. He was well and truly fucked, that’s what he realized.

~

Humming quietly under your breath, you picked up the plates from the table and made your way back to the kitchen. Stepping around Morgan, you reached down to put the dishes into the sink for him to wash. After you let them sit, you hoisted yourself up and onto the counter next to him and watched as he grabbed for one of the dirty plates.

“You think Joel will be back soon?” You asked him, tilting your head and pursing your lips. 

Morgan met your gaze and held it as he washed the plate. “Hopefully, we can’t start the movie without him.”

Dinner and a movie at their place. It was almost like a date if you let yourself think about it. But you didn’t, because they’re just your friends.

Your tall, attractive friends that you had completely platonic feelings for. Okay, mostly platonic feelings for. Fine, not at all platonic and actually very romantic feelings, but you refused to think about it. There were two of them and one of you and that, that was weird. Right? 

Right?

Kicking yourself mentally, you shot him a tiny smile. “Do we even want to know what he chose this time?” Every movie night, a different one of you had complete control over the movie. Tonight was, regretfully, Joel’s night to choose and he refused to tell either of you what you were watching. 

It went without saying that you were a bit scared. 

“I don’t think so,” Morgan made a face, putting another plate in the dish rack. You laughed lowly to yourself, watching a smile creep over his face as he glanced back at you.

“Either way,” you told him, “he needs to get back soon, I’m starting to miss the weirdo.” Shimmying down from the countertop, you walked over to the fridge to get a drink. 

Morgan made a noise of agreement, finishing up and turning off the sink. He turned to face you, grabbing a hand towel from next to him and leaning against the counter. He stared down at you without responding; the action causing you to grin slightly in confusion. 

“What’s up?” You questioned him, stretching your foot out to lightly tap his.

Head shaking slowly, his mouth opened a bit. Closing it, his eyebrows squished together in what seemed like deep thought. 

“Do you ever think about your soulmate?”

The question caught you off guard, making your body physically recoil just a touch. You shook your head, mouth hanging open. “Uhhh,” you stuttered, a startled laugh making its way past your lips. “Not if I can help it, why?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, brows still furrowed and an intent look painted across his face.

Shrugging, your eyes flitted around the room. At your side, your fingers twitched against the counter, creating a muted tapping noise. “Nothing, just...I don’t know. It’s not my favorite subject. You?”

“Yea,” he said with a forced smile, “Same thing, I guess. Not if I can help it.” 

You hummed softly, trying to figure out his expression and the change in subject. You couldn’t recall ever, ever, talking about soulmates with either Morgan or Joel. Not in the entire time you had known them. It was like some sort of weird unspoken taboo topic, never brought up, never talked about despite how popular it was for everyone else. Never asking what your soulmark was, or what date was splayed across your skin. Like there was a sense of fear lingering around it, which made sense for you but never for your boys. 

The boys. Not—not your boys, you scolded yourself.

“It’s just, you and Joel,” Morgan started, scaring you a little. “The two of you get along really well.”

Was he? Was he implying that you and Joel? Soulmates?

For a split second, your mind ran wild with the thought. To be soulmates with Joel, with his smiles for just you and Morgan, and his wild hair and dumb hats, and horrible facial hair and horrible jokes and—

How nice it would be. How irrevocably nice it would be. 

But even as you let yourself think about it for that split second, you knew it wasn’t what you wanted. Not entirely. Because it wasn’t just Joel in your daydream, but Morgan, too. With his pretty eyes and the look of exasperation he always had when he was with the two of you. The three of you. 

Always the three of you.

Shaking your head before you knew what you were doing, you replied, “Me and Joel? No, no, I mean—”

“You’re always happy and smiling around him,” Morgan cut you off, not making eye contact, “maybe the two of you—”

“I’m always happy and smiling because I’m with the two of you, you idiot,” you rolled your eyes as you cut him off in return, ignoring the way your heart pounded in your chest. 

He pursed his lips, about to retort when the sound of the door opening caught your attention. 

“Alright, assholes. I’ve got the goods,” Joel’s voice called out, the door closing behind him and keys clattering loudly into the horrible gritty tray you had gotten them. You and Morgan remained quiet as Joel made his way into the kitchen, digging around in the bag he was holding. 

He paused upon entering, eyes lifting to look from you to Morgan and back. His arms slowly fell, his face screwing up in cautious confusion. “So, uh, what did I...miss?” he asked, stepping inside apprehensively. 

“Soulmates, apparently,” you told him sarcastically when Morgan kept silent. You made grabby hands for the bag, reaching in to grab your bag of peach rings. 

Joel winced, a just barely audible ‘oh boy’ falling from his lips. “What got you on that god awful subject?”

You snorted, already shoving a peach ring into your mouth, “So you agree? It’s an awful subject?”

“Oh yea,” he nodded, reaching over and tugging at the peach ring balancing between your teeth before it tore in half, shoving his stolen half into his mouth and chewing obnoxiously. 

Pulling back, you batted at his outstretched hands, “you should’ve gotten your own. Stop stealing, thief.”

“I prefer the term rogue,” he replied, shooting you a cheeky grin. A soft ‘oh my god’ left you with a groan as you rolled your eyes and set the bag down.

Morgan’s continued silence worried you, and you could tell it unnerved Joel just as much. You stole glances at him, his posture tense and face troubled. The whole soulmates thing wasn’t your favorite, but what was going on inside of his head that had him like this? Was he still thinking about you and Joel—which was a ridiculous idea. But maybe that’s just because you knew the truth you resolved yourself to. That you just didn’t, for some unknown reason, have a soulmate to begin with. 

“What’s going on in your big boy brain,” Joel nodded at Morgan, eyebrow quirking as he watched him.

Morgan startled almost imperceptibly, his attention shooting to his teammate. He shook his head, “Nothing, just the whole soulmates thing.” 

“Still?” You frowned as you crossed your arms, puzzled. 

“Dude, just move on already,” Joel told him.

Morgan rolled his eyes, shifting his weight from foot to foot. You saw his grip on the countertop behind him tighten for a second before relaxing again.

“What’s going on?” You asked him, reaching out to lay a hand on his arm.

He flinched back, a tiny movement that you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t already watching. Swallowing roughly, you stopped and let your hand fall, hurt coating your insides. Morgan licked his lips and rubbed at his chin, face screwing up. 

“Don’t either of you ever think about the people you have feelings for being a perfect match for someone else? That it doesn’t matter what you feel in the end?”

Taken aback, you share a look with Joel as you grasped for words. Because you do think about that, about how Joel and Morgan have someone waiting for them that isn’t you and you don’t know when it’ll happen, only that it will and you’ll end up left behind like you always are. Alone. It wasn’t often, but late at night, the knowledge crept over you like thick sludge, refusing to move or leave.

“All the time,” Joel spoke before you could string together a sentence, his voice weak and a frown marring his features. “But it does matter, doesn’t it? Because you still have time with them now, and you can’t waste it for something that might happen.” 

“But it will,” Morgan stressed, the hand that had rubbed his chin flying out to his side with a look of helplessness. “It will happen.” 

“But you don’t know that,” you countered, fighting to get the words out. Your throat was tightening up, your heart pounding away. “No one really does. You don’t even have to end up with your soulmate.”

“Why wouldn’t you,” Morgan laughed without humor, “why wouldn’t you leave to be with the person hand picked for you?”

“Because I don’t have one,” slipped past your lips without your permission, the truth behind your words hitting you like a brick. Tears pricked behind your eyes as you swallowed harshly, stepping into yourself. 

Morgan moved back and hit the counter behind him with a dull thud, staring at you with an unreadable expression. To your other side, Joel looked down at his feet, hands shoved into his pants. 

“I never had one,” you continued, softer, quieter. Weaker. “I’ve always been the person without someone made just for me, but I’ve moved on. Because it doesn’t matter. It’s what I make of it, and it’s the scariest fucking thing, but it is what it is.”

“What if I can’t move on?” Morgan whispered, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Then the people you were scared of leaving weren’t worth it to begin with,” Joel told him, gazing at him sadly. 

Morgan’s face dropped forward into his hands, rubbing harshly. The three of you were silent, the tension nearly suffocating. Waiting, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I can’t just get over it,” Morgan said, shaking his head. 

“Why not,” Joel questioned just as quietly, running a hand through his hair. 

“Because I just can’t,” Morgan threw his hands up, voice raised as he stepped forward. “I can’t stop thinking that my feelings are a waste. That all of this is just a waste.”

“All of this?” You asked, uncomprehending.

“Yes, all of this,” he told you, gesturing wildly between the three of you. “Us. This. It’s a waste.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Morgan,” Joel was the one to ask this time, his voice low and daring. Daring Morgan to say it, to tell you exactly what he means.

“That I look at both of you and see two people who are going to leave me. Two people that I care about, that I want to be with, and know that it won’t last.”

The shock that came from him admitting his feelings and finally giving you the knowledge that you weren’t alone in your pining all these months still wasn’t enough to overwhelm the rest of his confession. The part that said that we were a waste, that cut a part of you that you kept hidden.

“Did you ever stop and think about how we felt?” The words left you as you stepped away, needing to get away. “That we might, for just a second, feel the same?” 

“But it doesn’t matter,” Morgan nearly cried, voice shaking. “It never did.” 

Nodding, you swallowed down tears. “Okay,” you whispered, maneuvering around Joel, who had remained quiet. “Okay.” 

“Where are you going?” Morgan asked, reaching toward you.

Nearly laughing, you told him, “Away. I’m sorry, Joel, but I can’t be near someone who thinks everything about us, our friendship, our relationship, our feelings, are a waste. Not right now.”

Joel nodded, glancing back at you and offering a weak smile. “Don’t worry, I get it.” 

Returning it, you turned and went to grab your things. 

“Wait,” you heard Morgan before you saw him try to follow you, looking between you and Joel. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“It doesn’t matter, Morg,” you whispered, shrugging lightly. “I’m gonna go for awhile. I need to go.”

“No, please—”

Dodging him, you left the apartment. Vaguely, you heard Joel tell Morgan to stop, to let you go. Silently, you thanked him. You just couldn’t be near them right now, constantly reminded of your feelings and knowing at least one of them thought it was all useless.

All of this is just a waste. Us. This.

You nearly ran out of the building and to your car, just barely making it in before a yell forced its way out.

“Fuck,” you hit the steering wheel, letting your head droop forward to rest on it. You gave yourself a minute to pull yourself together and turn your car on, starting your journey back to the apartment you had slowly considered home less and less. 

And so you drove away from the one you had begun to consider home, and from the boys that made it feel like that, and to the place you could finally let yourself break down.

~

Day after day became a week and then two. There was now this tension between him and Morgan, you weren’t replying to his texts the same way, and he wasn’t even sure if you and Morgan had talked at all since that night. He hated it.

Joel hated this. 

It didn’t help that everything was bleeding over onto the ice and he couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop making rookie mistakes, couldn’t do anything when Morgan got yelled at for fucking up on a play. Couldn’t do anything.

The two of them were this close to getting benched, they both knew it. He knew this couldn’t keep happening, but he didn’t know how to stop it. 

He saw his phone light up on his nightstand out of the corner of his eye. Mentally, he debated leaving it and continuing his inner dilemma, but a glance at it convinced him otherwise.

Sitting up in bed, he struggled against the blankets tangled around his legs to reach over and grab it. He crashed back down, lifting his phone above him and pulling up the text.

[10:38pm] armrest ; coffee tomorrow? 

Seeing the name he had you under brought out a grin. You hated it the moment you saw it and argued that everyone was short next to a group of hockey players, which is exactly why both he and Morgan had you listed as it. In a sense, it was a reminder of better times.

[10:40pm] bumblebee ; yea ofc

[10:40pm] bumblebee ; the two of us?

He didn’t miss the fact that you texted just him and not the groupchat—the one aptly named the 3 stoiges, because Morgan made it with a typo and you and Joel kept it there to bully him. Time after time, Morgan tried to change it, and yet every time he went back, there it was once again in all of its dumbass glory. 

[10:43pm] armrest ; yea i wanted to talk about everything. just the two of us for now

[10:44pm] bumblebee ; im there just lmk when

You texted him back the time, and that was that. The entire exchange left him feeling underwhelmed and anxious. It felt wrong. Stilted. He missed the jokes and subtle digs at each other. The goodnight texts that just kept on going. 

He had a hard time going to sleep after that, not that he was doing a good job of it before. Tossing and turning, knowing that his teammate was his roommate and just a door over and that it didn’t matter because they hadn’t actually talked since the fight. And probably wouldn’t, since that was how things seemed to be going.

But tomorrow, maybe tomorrow would change things.

~

Morning came and went and he woke up to his alarm, feeling the opposite of well rested. He had slept like shit, just like he had been for the past two weeks. Getting out of bed, he got ready to go meet up with you, ignoring the absence of Morgan in the kitchen or on the couch. The lack of a good morning and a smile from his arguably favorite teammate. 

He left the apartment in a rush, something he had found himself doing a lot of lately. Not on purpose, he didn’t think. It was just like a lot of other things in his life now; it felt different. Less warm, duller. Void of life, of everything that made it home to him. 

An open bag of peach rings still abandoned on the kitchen counter, never moved. A little shittily made origami crane knocked over on the coffee table, never fixed. Hoodies missing, never returned. Reminders.

He made it to the little rinky dink cafe on the corner soon enough, refusing to admit he hesitated a bit before he went in. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you at all since that night, but he would be lying if he said it was the same as before. 

You were at their usual table, wearing a recognizable sweatshirt—one of theirs, but at this point he wasn’t really sure if it his or Morgan’s—and clutching a cup in your hands with a cup sitting across from you. Hearing the bell ring, you looked up and spotted him, giving him a tiny smile.

He didn’t want to think about the way the sight made the tension bleed from his body, the familiarity filling him with a rush of warmth. He made the short walk to you, slipping into one of the open seats.

Both of you ignored the still empty third seat.

“You’re late,” you told him, with just enough of a smile to take the edge off. 

He grinned back. “You telling me you weren’t, too?”

Your laughter rang softly through the mostly empty cafe. “No.”

“Thought so,” he replied, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him. His go to order, just the way he always got it. 

God, he missed you. 

A few beats of silence passed with the two of you just soaking up the other’s presence. 

Clearing your throat, you looked down at your hands and picked at your nail. “I think it’s probably time we talk about…”

“That night?” he finished for you. “Yea. I think so, too.”

Another pained smile passed between both of you. Another beat of silence. 

“You know—I mean—” you tried to say, taking a moment to close your eyes and take a deep breath. “I care about you and Morgan. About both of you. Not—not platonically either.” 

He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading, the heat creeping into his cheeks. “Yea, I figured.” You deadpanned at him and he had to resist the laugh bubbling up inside of him. He nudged your foot under the table. “Me, too. Non-platonically care about both of you.” 

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes, grinning, “I figured.”

Letting the laugh out, he shook his head. “Ass.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your drink, “You started it.”

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” you whispered back, smile gaining a sorrowful edge.

Staring at you, he felt so many emotions. So many things, and yet something was still missing. 

Licking his lips, he risked a glance to his right, at the empty seat next to him. “It doesn’t—things don’t really feel the same without him, though.” 

“Yea,” you looked at the chair for a second, pain flashing across your face so fast he almost didn’t catch it. “They don’t.”

Hearing you agree, he let the breath he had been holding go. He picked at his cup, resisting the urge to down it. Dimly, he realized you had gotten his coffee before he got there. Which meant you bought it for him. The broke college student who rarely gets anything from here got him coffee without thinking twice. That feeling in his chest grew, fondness for you radiating throughout him. It was a small gesture, one you probably barely thought about, but it made him fall even harder.

“You know, I keep,” you stopped, tilting your head with a jaded smile before steamrolling on, “I keep hearing him say it in my head. ‘Everything’s a waste.’ And I know he didn’t—didn’t mean it like that, but…”

“But it still hurts,” he finished for you quietly, watching you and the way your shoulders hunched forward. 

“Yea, it still hurts.”

“We’re all just miserable anymore, aren’t we?” he asked, knowing the answer and asking anyway.

You laughed softly, glancing up at him. “That we are.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“No,” you held eye contact, steady and intent, “It wasn’t.”

The bell above the door jingled, your conversation dying down. The two of you nursed your drinks, avoiding the painful subject. Pushing it off and dragging it out just a little more.

“I don’t want us to end here, Joel,” you told him, voice barely a whisper. “Not like this. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“I don’t think I could either,” he replied. He could handle not being everything he wanted with the two of you. He resigned himself to that a long time ago. Could handle not being in a relationship, unable to hold or kiss either of you, to look at you and know both of you were his.

He could handle that. What he couldn’t handle? 

This. 

These past two weeks, the three of you barely talking. The tension, the awkwardness, the lack of everything that made you work. Not having either of you really, truly, in his life anymore. 

“I’m gonna talk to him,” he told you, not letting himself think too hard about it. He nodded, ignoring your unreadable expression, and kept talking. “I’m gonna talk to him and then we’re gonna—we’re gonna—”

“We’re gonna fix things?” You croaked out, gnawing at the inside of your bottom lip.

“Yea,” his throat tightened, making him force out the words, “Yea, we’re gonna fix things.”

~

He cornered Morgan later that night in the kitchen when he finally came out of his room to get something to eat. 

“We need to talk.”

Morgan jumped, keeping his back turned to Joel as he dug through the fridge. “About what?” He asked, the forced casualness of it shining clear.

“I think you know what.”

He slowly drew himself up and closed the fridge. “I don’t think—”

“Yea, we do,” he cut his roommate off, his arms folded across his chest. “We both know we do.”

Morgan turned around, facing him with his eyes closed and shaking his head. “Please—”

“We can’t keep going on like this, none of us can,” Joel forcibly told him, refusing to back down. He was doing this for them, for you and for Morgan and for him. “I was with Y/N earlier.”

Morgan flinched back, ducking his head. “Yea? How—how is—”

“Good,” he softened his voice, uncrossing his arms and taking a step toward him. “Come on, let's go sit down.”

“Okay,” Morgan whispered, nodding and following him slowly to the couch. They sat further away than they usually would, a space left open for the one not there with them. 

Joel opened his mouth to start, but Morgan cut him off before he could.

“I’m so sorry,” he told him, avoiding eye contact. Clenching his hands tightly on his lap, he squeezed them periodically. “I didn’t—didn’t mean anything I said that night. Not really. Not like that.”

“I know.” 

“I was just scared,” he kept going, still not looking at him, “I still am. Fuck, I wish I could go back and just—”

“Morgan,” Joel stopped him, getting up and moving to sit down on the table in front of him. “Look at me.”

It took a second, took him reaching out and nudging his face toward him. 

“We know. We’re all scared. And we can’t take back what was said, but we can move forward. Together. The three of us.” 

Morgan shook his head, tears lining his eyes as he leaned imperceptibly into his hand. “How?” 

He almost laughed, but stopped himself in time. “I don’t know,” he shrugged helplessly, smiling at him. “But we will. Because we care about each other. That’s all that matters.”

“Yea?” 

“Yea,” he laughed this time, his hand pressing further into Morgan’s face, the other coming up to rest on his knee. 

Morgan’s hand found his, and they stayed like that for a while, taking comfort in finally being near each other again. Mentally, physically. 

“I missed this,” Morgan told him, blinking softly up at him. 

Joel grinned back, “Well, I don’t know if we’ve ever done anything like this before, but—”

Morgan scoffed, rolling his eyes and pushing him away. One of his hands came up to subtly wipe at his eyes and Joel pretended not to notice as he reached out and pulled him back to him. 

Hand threaded in his hair, he tugged him in to rest his head against his neck. “Kidding,” he laughed, turning to nuzzle into Morgan’s hair. “But seriously, I did, too.”

Morgan’s hand squeezed his side, the two of them lapsing back into silence. At least, until he broke it.

“So, which one of us is gonna text our better part?” 

~

[8:17pm] frostbite ; come over?

The text from Morgan lit your phone screen and sent your heart into a steady gallop. You knew Joel was going to talk to him, but for some reason, you hadn’t thought it would be so soon. 

Was it bad that you didn’t feel ready?

Honestly, if you thought about it, you didn’t think you would ever feel ready. In a way, this was the buildup of months of dancing around each other. It was terrifying, that tonight everything would be out in the open.

You would be lying if you said a part of you couldn’t wait.

[8:19pm] armrest ; omw over

Rushing around, you put on shoes and threw back on the hoodie you were wearing earlier when you saw Joel. You grabbed your keys and locked the door behind you, making your way to your car. 

The drive to their apartment was short, though it still took everything in you to obey the traffic laws on the way there. The walk up filled you with even more anxiety, your hands shaking despite your best attempts to settle your nerves.

You knocked lightly on their door, unable to manage more than a mediocre tap. Luckily, it was Joel that opened the door, beckoning you inside with a hand on your waist. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, sending heat into your cheeks.

“He’s in the kitchen making tea,” Joel told you, closing the door behind you. 

You nodded, dropping your keys onto the Gritty tray. Together, you made your way to the kitchen. 

Seeing Morgan for the first time in two weeks, after not having spoken at all was...was strange. It hit you like a fist to the gut. 

You saw how exhausted Joel looked earlier, disheveled and messy. But compared to Morgan, he looked only a bit different from usual. Morgan, though—

He looked rough. 

Heavy bags under his eyes, hair wild, clothes wrinkled. Even his shoulders were hunched in more than usual. Your heartstrings tugged just looking at him. 

“Hey,” he mumbled when he looked up and saw you, mustering up a weak smile. 

Slowly, you made your way to where he stood. He set down the cup of tea he was reaching out to offer you, worry plastered on his face.

He took a deep breath and started to talk, “Look, I’m so sor—”

You caused him to stop mid-sentence, throwing your arms around him and gripping tight. “You’re such an asshole,” you told him, voice muffled in his shirt. Burying your face deeper, his arms came up and wrapped tightly around you.

“I know,” he said, laying his head on yours, “I’m so sorry.” 

You didn’t respond, taking the moment to really let everything sink in. Giving him one last squeeze, you let go and stepped back, picking up the mug that you claimed as yours on one of your first visits.

“Living room?” you asked, smiling at the two of your boys—because you finally let yourself give in and call them that, because they were yours and you didn’t plan on letting go so easily. 

“Living room, it is,” Joel answered, reaching around to grab his mug and guide you over. Morgan followed behind, staying close. 

Like none of you could bear to be more than a few feet anymore. It was just a tad ironic at this point. 

The three of you settled down in your usual seats, with you in the middle, Joel to your right, and Morgan on the left. You put your tea down after taking a sip, smiling when it tasted exactly how Morgan always makes it for you. 

“So, I guess this is where we talk about everything,” Morgan said, putting his cup down next to yours and turning to face the two of you. 

Joel followed suit, nodding. “That it is.”

For a second, the three of you sat there in silence, looking around at each other. 

“Any volunteers to go first?” You ventured finally, raising your eyebrows. Your question earned you a pair of laughs. 

“I’m the one that started this mess, so I’ll go, I guess.” Morgan darted his tongue out to lick his lips, glancing between the two of you. 

“That night, I let my fear take over. And I know I’ve already told both of you, but I’m sorry.”

“Morgan,” you tried, but he stopped you. 

“Let me talk,” he smiled, so you let him. “At that point, I just really let myself consider that I had feelings for the two people I thought of as my closest friends. And it made me scared, because there are soulmates out there and I know—I think—I don’t have one. But as far as I knew, both of you did. The thought of losing you to someone I had no chance against, it made me lash out. 

That was wrong. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. We’re adults, mostly, and I should’ve handled it better. I’m sorry.”

You were aware you were gaping a little, but you were unsure on how to stop. Joel got his bearings back before you.

“Yea, you definitely handled it like shit,” he said, shrugging and getting a snort out of you and a ‘fucking hell’ from Morgan. “But it is what it is. It got the ball rolling and we can’t go back. We can only go on.”

“When the fuck did you get good at talking about your feelings?” You turned to him, an incredulous look on your face. “Seriously, you were like the last person I expected to be spouting off relationship wisdom.”

“What can I say,” he grinned, “I’m a man of wisdom. Isn’t that why you care about me non-platonically?”

“Why do I like you,” Morgan muttered to himself, covering his eyes, “Literally why.”

“Moving on,” you announced, choking back a laugh, “On the subject of soulmates, as far as I’m aware, I don’t have one either, so there’s that. And right now, I don’t know if me having one would even stop me from wanting to at least see if this is something worth having. Which I think it is.”

“Yea, I remember you mentioning the soulmate lack,” Joel nodded, “And I agree, with the second part.”

Bumping his shoulder, you went to pick up your tea. 

“So that’s two out of three?” Morgan asked, looking at both of you.

“Make that three out of three,” Joel butted in, raising his hand. “Like 99% sure I don’t either.”

“So none of us have soulmates?” You looked between Morgan and Joel. “Really?”

“Lucky?” Morgan hazarded a guess. 

“I’ll take it.” Joel grinned.

“And to clarify, there are mutual feelings here? Threeway feelings?” 

“Don’t—don’t call it that,” you replied to Morgan, wincing. “That’s just bad.”

“I don’t know,” Joel told you, grinning, “I like it. Threeway Feelings. New groupchat name?”

“Yes.”

“No.” 

You glared at Morgan, repeating, “No, motion overruled.”

“You’re two to one,” Joel teased.

Smiling sweetly back, you told him, “Cute that you think this is a democracy.”

Laughter rang through the apartment. It was almost like the past two weeks had never happened at all. 

“But let me clarify,” Joel started, sitting up straighter and holding up a hand, fingers up, “All of us think we’re soulmate-less, and even if we’re not, it’s something we’ll deal with when we get there,” one finger down, “All of us have feelings for the other two people in this room,” another finger, “and we’re not dating yet?”

“Correct,” you confirmed.

“Sounds about right so far,” Morgan nodded.

“But we should, though,” Joel said, glancing at you, “Date, I mean. It’s the next logical step, right?”

“Kinda worrying when he uses logic,” you leaned over to stage whisper to Morgan. 

He nodded, leaning close, “I agree.”

“I’m right here, jackasses,” Joel threw a throw pillow at Morgan, apparently taking the name literally. 

“Were you? I couldn’t tell,” Morgan replied sarcastically, throwing it back. 

Closing your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath and tried not to laugh. 

“I agree with Joel, though,” you told them, stopping them in their tracks. “About dating.”

“You wanna date us?” Morgan asked you, Joel pointing at him to back up his question. 

Rolling your eyes, you smiled, “Yes, I wanna date you. Do you wanna date me?”

You felt ridiculous for asking, like a flashback to kindergarten with a note saying ‘do you like me? yes or no’.

“I don’t know, what are the options?” Joel asked, pretending to think about it.

“Yes or yes,” you deadpanned.

“I think I’m gonna have to go with yes on that one,” Morgan told you, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’m gonna have to go with yes, as well,” Joel nodded, kissing your other cheek. 

“Okay,” you tried to ignore the pulsating heat in your cheeks. 

“Wait,” Morgan stopped, clearing his throat and looking over at Joel, “Are we? I mean—”

“Dating?” Joel asked, lips quirking into a soft smile. 

Morgan nodded, staying quiet. 

Joel shook his head and laughed, “Yea, I think I could manage dating both of you.”

“Yea?” Morgan smiled. 

“Yea.” Joel returned it.

“Cool,” Morgan said, running a hand through his hand before stopping and frowning. “I know that all of that shitshow was my fault, but we’re never doing that again, right?”

“Oh, seconded,” you immediately replied, “Never again.”

“Thirded,” Joel agreed, nodding wholeheartedly.

You looked at your boys—now officially yours—and smiled. 

~

Their first date, it was decided, would be dinner at Morgan and Joel’s apartment, just the three of them. Private, no pressure. 

You showed up, dressed up but not too much, as per Joel’s vague instructions, at 8pm on the dot, making it the only time you were ever on time for something. You liked to think that if it wasn’t at your boys’ apartment, they’d be late, too.

“Well, don’t you look lovely,” Morgan let you in, bending to kiss your hairline. 

“I could say the same for you,” you replied, taking him in, pressing a kiss to his chin.

Not the usual pre-game suit, you noticed, unable to decide if it was disappointment or relief in your stomach. He was clad in a nice pair of pants, his dark blue button up undone at the top and the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. Sans shoes, because of course.

On the whole, a very nice look, in your humble opinion.

He noticed your glance down at his lack of footwear and grinned, “Footwear optional.”

“You should’ve mentioned that sooner,” you groaned, bending down to remove your own shoes that had already begun to pinch at your toes. 

He laughed, waiting for you to finish and take his hand, leading you to the kitchen. 

Joel waited for you there, bent over a pot on the stove. Shirt completely unbuttoned, tie hanging around his neck. Shaking your head, you stepped up behind him to wrap your arms around his back, kissing his shoulder blade. 

“Who let you be in charge of dinner?” You teased, catching his eye as he turned around in your embrace to return it. 

“Say the word and we’ll order pizza,” he whispered back into your ear, lips lightly brushing it.

A tingle ran down your spine as you withdrew, sharing a secret smile and ignoring Morgan’s snort. 

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” you told him, leaning against a counter. 

A laugh bubbled up and out of you at Morgan’s subtle wince. “Dinner’s just about done, anyway. Guess we’ll find out,” he said, getting out a few plates. 

“So, what exactly is on the menu?” You questioned, unable to quite tell. 

Joel looked up at you, opening his mouth and closing it quickly. “You know,” he answered, hand bracing on the countertop, “I’m not sure if I can pronounce it right.”

Giggles flew out of you even as you felt a sense of apprehension take over. “This is gonna be good.”

Sharing a laugh, you got to work setting the table and bringing over the food, which you cautiously noted smelled somewhat decent. Not—not really entirely good, but decent.

“Not gonna lie,” Joel told both of you once everyone was seated with a plate, “Kinda scared to eat this.”

“You’re really not filling me with confidence here, babe,” you replied, getting a tiny forkful of food. 

“On three?” Morgan proposed. 

“On three,” you and Joel agreed. 

“One,” you started.

“Two,” Joel continued.

“Three.”

You shoved the food into your mouth, barely giving yourself a moment to reconsider. Slowly, you chewed, watching your boyfriends’ faces.

It seemed the general consensus was…not good. 

“I think we fucked up somewhere,” Joel swallowed loudly, grimacing.

“Oh, we definitely did,” Morgan agreed, pushing back his chair and standing. “I’ll get my phone.”

“Pizza?”

“Pizza.”

~

“We’re only here to get essentials,” Morgan reminded the two of you, grabbing a cart. 

You and Joel followed behind, hands swinging between your bodies. “Yea, totally,” you smiled, “Essentials.”

“Of course,” Joel nodded gravely, before turning to you and whispering, “We’re definitely getting the stuff for ice cream sundaes, right?”

Giggling, you nudged into him. “He said essentials, Joel. Obviously, we’re getting the stuff for ice cream sundaes.”

“I can hear both of you, you know,” Morgan called back, looking over his shoulder at the pair of you. 

You shot him a smile and blew him a kiss, knowing Joel was beside you doing something just as cheesy.

The next thing you knew, Joel was speeding up and dragging you along to catch up to your other boyfriend. “I’m getting in,” he dropped your hand, lifting a leg over the side of the cart. 

“No—Joel—oh my god,” Morgan tried to jerk the cart away, laughter spilling out of him.

“Joel, you’re not getting in the cart,” you shoved him, blissfully ignoring the stares coming from the old lady down the aisle. 

Joel pouted exaggeratedly, turning to face you. “Why not?”

In a quick motion, you propelled yourself into the cart. “Because I am!” Your giggles came out maniacal, joined with Joel’s bark of laughter and Morgan’s groan of disappointment. 

“Where’s the food gonna go?” Morgan asked, continuing to push the cart with you in it. 

“In the cart with Y/N,” Joel told him, bumping lightly into his shoulder with a grin. 

You pointed at Joel, agreeing. 

Morgan shook his head, that exasperated fondness prevalent on his face as he sighed and tried not to smile. “Fine,” he relented. 

~

“You know, that monkey kinda looks like you,” Morgan overheard you tell Joel as he paid for the cotton candy. 

“You’re such an ass,” Joel pushed you, laughing. 

“Speaking of asses,” Morgan said, coming up behind you and handing over the cotton candy, “Do you think they have donkeys here?”

You threw your head back with a loud laugh. 

“This is the zoo,” Joel replied, grabbing his hand, “...I actually don’t know. We should check.”

“In the whole zoo, you want to see donkeys?” You asked in bemusement, leaning into him. 

He shrugged, wrapping his unoccupied arm around you. “What can I say, I’m a man with taste.”

“Oh, for sure,” Joel retorted, snorting and squeezing his hand in his own.

~

Limbs tangled, you relaxed on the couch with your boys.

A book in one hand, you carded your fingers through Joel’s hair with the other. Sprawled across your lap as you rested against Morgan, he was the perfect image of relaxation. Rain pattered against the windows as a romcom played in the background, the volume just low enough to zone out. Morgan and Joel—okay, just Morgan, because you were pretty sure Joel was half asleep at this point—were watching, attention set on the tv.

All in all, an excellent night. 

~

Seeing your boys over the summer was difficult, but you made it work. You always did.

It was one of those incredibly rare days where you lounged about in the midsummer heat with them, Morgan and Joel taking a slight break from offseason training to just be together. It was nice, and it was quiet and exactly what you needed. 

You had made the mistake of putting on one of their thinner, more threadbare hoodies last night and the decision was catching up to you. You untangled yourself from the pile of limbs on the bed belonging to your two boyfriends, ignoring their cries of protest, and just barely managed to get up. 

First, you were gonna turn up the air conditioning, and then you were gonna take off this damn hoodie. 

Meandering over to the A/C, you accomplished one mission and moved on to the next one. Pulling the hoodie over your head, you felt your shirt slide up and refuse to separate from it. 

“Hey,” you heard Joel call from behind you, “Did you get a tattoo without telling us?”

Confused, you yanked the hoodie the rest of the way off and turned back to them. “No?” You answered, but it came out less sure than you would’ve liked. 

“I definitely saw something on your back,” Joel insisted, reaching over and swatting at Morgan to get his attention. 

“Hmm?” Morgan grumbled, switching sides to look at you. 

“Come here,” Joel beckoned, an action you reluctantly obeyed. His hand on your hip turned you to face away from him, your back in his line of sight.

You shivered, feeling his fingers glide across your skin as he lifted your shirt. In an instant, you felt his grasp waver, a choked gasp slamming out of him.

“Holy shit,” Morgan breathed, the bed creaking as he shot up. 

Spinning, you turned to face them, grabbing at your back. “What?” You demanded, terrified of their answer, “What it is?”

Adrenaline poured through your veins as Joel lifted his gaze, now wet with tears, to meet yours with a wide smile.

“It’s a soulmate tattoo,” he told you, standing up and cupping your face. His lips came down fast and hard to yours, the emotion behind the kiss slamming into you. 

You felt Morgan come to stand behind you, lifting your shirt to look. His fingers traced down your spine, almost reverently, sending shiver after shiver through your body. 

“Liar,” you croaked when you and Joel split, refusing to believe it. 

Joel shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, “I’m not. Go look in the mirror.”

You pulled away, making your way slowly to the mirror by the door, your boys close behind. You twisted around, craning your head as you pulled up your shirt. Your breath stilled to a halt when scrawled writing along your spine become visible out of the corner of your eye with every inch of skin shown. 

And there, once your shirt was all the way up, was an indisputable soulmate tattoo curving down your spine.

morgan frost ~ joel farabee

The names of your boys—your boys, you nearly cried—written in calligraphy on your body, separated only by three flowers. 

“Soulmates,” Morgan whispered, finger stilling on the flowers. 

Recognition sparked deep in your mind, a memory surfacing behind your eyes.

Your eyes lingered on the flowers lining the pathway, your mind trying futilely to identify which ones they wer—

“I know those flowers,” you mumbled, lips parting as you stared uncomprehendingly. 

Joel laughed a little, fingers running up and down your side. “I didn’t think you were into flowers.”

You shook your head, fixated and unable to look away. “No, I know those flowers. Asters. They were—”

“In the park by the cafe,” Morgan finished for you, catching on, “The day I bumped into you.”

“The day we met,” you said, smiling. “I was trying to figure out what kind they were, it’s why I was distracted. Why we—”

“Met,” Morgan gaped, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. 

You nodded, unable to talk just yet. The sight of those flowers, ones that you hadn’t really given any thought to after you had googled them one day after being curious. Flowers that were now imprinted on your body, a permanent reminder of everything you gained in such a relatively short amount of time.

To your side, you watched Joel take off his shirt and turn around, revealing flowing names down his spine separated by three dainty flowers. 

y/n ~ morgan frost

Morgan mirrored him on your other side and sure enough, there were your names in identical print and the same tiny three flowers. 

joel farabee ~ y/n

A perfect set.

~ fin ~

[uzuitengensfourthwife]

Roommate (Suguru Daishou x fem!Reader) College AU

Warnings: some teasing, my bad writing but other than that none

Word count: 2371

Authors note: and this too was written back in October LKADNHDJF Im so sorry but this just had to be posted here at some point, so why not now? *proceeds to lip bite* Anyways lmao skdnnf I think suguru is so damn underrated and he isnt even as bad as people might think he is so yeah, here is my oh so badly written suguru fanfic. Enjoy!!

(2 months ago)

It was Friday evening, a day you and your roommate usually binge-watched movies and series, but not today. The sudden change in plans was a change you didn't want. After all, the change of plans meant helping your roommate to pack his stuff and help him bring it into his new Unit. A Unit that was far away from his previous one and it made you feel dejected. You wouldn't be able to see him that often anymore and for once you grew close to someone outside of Japan.

, Ow c'mon Y/N. Don't be sad. I bet your new roommate will be nice as well.'' You let out a grown as you let yourself fall down on your bed. , Yeah but he's not you and you're like my only friend here in the Unit.'' Christian let out a chuckle and then suddenly got up from his kneeling position, getting his backpack and suitcase. , Well, you'll be alright, '' he threw some of his last stuff in his backpack. ,,After all my new Unit isn't even that far away.'' - ,,Christian, what is 'not far away' about 30 fucking minutes?'' you huffed in annoyance, sitting up again death glaring your 'ex' roommate. His laugh filled up the room as he threw his backpack over his shoulder, it was time for him to go, and then again you felt miserable. You wanted him to stay, but it was his decision after all. After two full years with Christian you knew you weren't the reason why he left, he left for other plausible reasons.

,, Alright let me help you then.'' You announced, grabbing one of his bags opening the door for him. A smile was plastered across his face as he walked past you with all his belongings. Letting out a last sigh you followed him, hoping your future roommate would be as subtle as Christian...

//

After helping Christian carrying and unpacking his stuff in his new Unit, you just made it back to your Unit. You were tired and felt like a piece of shit. Christian was one of the only people you interacted with on campus and the only one in your unit. The rest of your friends attended Universities in Japan, mostly in Tokyo or Osaka, just the minimum was somewhere outside of Japan, including you. Moreover, it was hard for you to find friends since you lacked in social skills. And having a new roommate would totally throw you off, you didn't even know how you wanted to welcome him, you were just too socially awkward for this.

So when you finally opened the door to your little 'apartment' and discovered a new pair of shoes next to all of your shoes, you freaked out. He was already here and you literally had nothing to offer him. Not even goddamn chewing gum. This would most definitely turn into some second hand embarrasment, you were sure about it. You closed the door when you suddenly heard footsteps slowly coming your way. ,,I'm really sorry that I just barged in but you weren't here so I let myself in.'' There he was, standing in front of you. You recognised him right away. Suguru Daisho, the high school rival of a friend of yours. ,,Well well, if that isn't our Miss Nekoma Manager, Y/N it is, right?'' he leaned onto to wall, giving you one of his smug smirks.

,,Of all people, it really just had to be you, huh?'' you spat out ironically, slipping out of your shoes as you walked up to him. ,,Ouch Y/N, you hurt my heart.'' Letting out a fake sob, he touched his chest and tried to look as hurt as possible which made you sigh out in annoyance, so you walk past him showing no reaction. ,,Jesus, you're no fun.'' - ,, Never intended to be fun, especially when it comes to you.'' As you replied to his complaint, you just plopped down on the little couch, already missing Christian. You really were so close to just change units as well. It hadn't even been 5 minutes yet, but here you are already considering to move out. What an awful day you had. And your next years in Uni would get even worse with him as your roommate.

But things turned out quite differently.

You imagined living with Suguru must be the most annoying thing ever, but you were so wrong. First, you really thought he was just trying to get on your sweet side and then act like an asshole again, but you started to reconsider when he brought home some chocolates for you. It wasn't just that, no he did so much more for you, and all of that in just two months.

He cooked for you, whenever he had time. When you woke up every morning, there was breakfast on the table. He helped you with studying and kept his distance whenever he knew you needed some time for yourself. And most importantly, he never invited friends over, since it didn't take him long to find out you just couldn't interact with people. Of course his teasing side would come out sometimes, leaving some comments here and there, but he changed and not only by a bit no, he changed a lot and even for the better.

Living with him was easier than you thought.

And yet, yet the old things would obviously come back because today you wanted to tell Kuroo, who was and still is one of your best friends from high school, that Suguru was your roommate. God, you were nervous. You knew Kuroo has always hated him and he will most definitely not stop hating him, even despite the fact that you grew quite close to him.

So when you pressed the 'call' button on your laptop, you really just didn't want to tell him, but you had to. Even if you wouldn't tell him now, he would find out somehow. You really wanted to tell him in person, rather than him finding out and then getting mad at you as well.

Once his faced showed up on your screen you smiled and waved, shoving away the nervousness you just had. ,,Hey Hey Tets!'' - ,,Hey! How're you doing over there?'' he smiled, taking a sip from the cup wich was located right next to him. ,,Well Im doing pretty good! How're you and the boys doing?'' Kuroo's face turned dark, making you worry, but once you've heard his answers you couldn't have expected less from such an idiot as him. ,,Well we're all doing pretty good.... and yet I feel broken, Kenma's ignoring me once again.'' He sobbed ironically, making you smile in an instant. You had to admit it, you missed the old times. The time you guys were still in Highschool, enjoying life and just having fun. But over all you just missed your friends, you always see them hanging out with each other, going on trips together while you were stuck with boredom and nothing but schoolwork. Of course your friends were part of the University life as well, however it seemed like they had much more time than you. Less worries than you.

,,You know Tets... I miss you guys a lot.'' You whispered as you nervously played with a stuffed animal, that was standing right next to your laptop. Showing affection wasn't really your thing, yet you missed your group of friends way too much to just ignore it like that. ,,Awe Y/N, we miss you too! Once you're back we're definitely going out somewhere! Oh and you should bring Christian as well!! Come to think of it.... where is Christian?''

You chocked on your saliva. ,,Oh god are you okay?'' Kuroo worriedly stated as you coughed. Why now, you had nearly forgotten about it, and yet all of the good had to come to an end. So when you finally stopped coughing you assured your friend that you were okay, but you most definitely weren't okay, you didn't even know where to start. You couldn't possibly just go ,,Ah yeah forgot to tell you, but Christian changed units. Suguru and I are now roommates.'.There was no way you could tell him. Literally no way.

But while you were overthinking this whole situation, suddenly Suguru made his entry.

,,Eyo Y/N can you-'' - ,, What is he doing here?'' Kuroo frantically yelled as he regocnised Suguru, pointing at him through your screen. Great, you thought. This could've gone better if you had the guts to bring it up earlier, but of course your friend had to find out like this. Luck was definetily not on your side today. ,,Oi roosterhead, still lying about your height huh?'' Suguru smirked as he placed himself right behind you, moving closer to the laptop. ,,Get lost.''Kuroo scoffed and now looked at you while still pointing at Suguru. ,,Why's he here?'' he repeated himself, not leaving you out of his sight once. Yet you looked away, trying to avoid his gaze as much as possible, you would even prefer hiding behind Suguru than sitting here. ,,He's my new roommate... Christian changed units.'' You whispered slowly looking back to see if he was still watching you.

Suguru took his chance and moved closer to you as he purred. ,,Wait, you didn't tell him babe?'' Oh god you forgot the petnames he had for you and you hated him for using them on you now. After he moved in and you finally got along pretty well, he started with all these ridiculous pet names, just like honey. And oh god...this was definitely not going to end well.

,,Can you tell him to fucking leave?'' Kuroo asked, seemingly annoyed of your roommates presence. ,,Alright alright I'll leave, just don't forget our business later.'' and with that he left your room.

The sudden awkward silence that was between you and your best friend was more than just uncomfortable for you. In fact, you hated it, you just wanted to disappear. ,,How long?'' He was the first one to finally break the silence and you knew he was upset, after all Suguru just walked in and you didn't tell him at all. ,,Two months..'' you whispered, full of regret. Kuroo then sighed, hand on his forehead as he leaned back to process what he has just heard. ,,Two months? God.... why didn't you tell me?'' - ,, Listen I was scared.... I know you don't like him but we got along so well..'' you stuttered, trying to avoid his gaze again. Honestly you were scared. All this time you were scared that you might lose your friend, although this might be a stupid reason to end a friendship, you were still terrified.

,,Hey that's fine Y/N, liking each other and having a relationship is fine! Im not even mad I promise!'' You looked at him as he smiled, to let you know that it was fine. All you could do was smile back and be thankful that he wasn't mad at you. ,,Oh and we're not really in a relationship..'' You stated and let out a nervous giggle. Kuroo on the other hand leaned in closer and then whispered. ,,Yeah right hon.'' - ,,Kuroo.'' You warned, holding up your finger just as you were about to scold him. ,,Anyways, seems like you have some unfinished business with the snake, so go for it.'' You huffed, ready to protest that there was no business to finish, but before you could tell him otherwise he disappeared from you screen.

Sighing out in annoyance, you got up from your chair to go scold your roommate for his bold words he has spoken during your videocall. So when you saw him doing some schoolwork you seated yourself in front of him, death glaring him. ,,Just what exactly were you thinking?''you hissed in such a sharp tone, that even suguru backed off for a second. But he quickly collected himself and leaned in closer just to smirk at you. ,,What do you mean babe?" he asked, his voice soft and unbothered. You groaned again, leaning in closer as well. ,,He thinks we have a thing." - ,,So?" his reply was bold, just like as if he didn't care about your current situation at all, which was weird to you since he usually never acted or talked to you this way.

You answered him, voice quiet. ,,So you're just going to leave it there?''

The confusion was plastered all over his face. You didn't really know what left him so confused, but you needed answers and as for that you waited for an answer. ,,Wait wait wait.'' he said, holding up both his hands. ,,Is that disappointment I hear?'' - ,,Never.'' You leaned back, looking away and thinking how to continue this conversation, which obviously seemed pointless to your roommate. But it wasn't pointless to you, your friend literally just hung up on you just because of this stupid statement the guy in front of you had made. ,,Why did you say these things? What did you even mean by unfinished business? That's not appropri-'' you got cut off midsentence. ,,We still haven't decided what we wanted to cook this weekend. That's what I meant babe.'' he stated, as he held up a paper with an amused expression.

,Oh' you mouthed, sitting there in embarrassment as you tried to avoid his gaze. The embarrassment just grew bigger as you realised what you were actually thinking about.

,,Well well, it's okay to have these thoughts about me. But next time you might as well share them with me.'' His grin grew bigger, putting down the paper he just lifted up a second ago. That's it, you thought, he has crossed the line. You then suddenly stood up, cheeks flushing red as you huffed out in annoyance once again. ,,You're the worst.'' you muttered, stomping away to your room in an instant, shutting your door. But something was odd. No, you... you felt something odd happening to you.

You then realised your fastened heartbeat, your hot cheeks, still flushed in a light pink shade,you...you were confused.

Just.... what... what was this feeling?

[kevindayscrown]

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Part 14 Free

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. Head over to the directory to find the previous parts and the fanfic version here.

The semester started off on a good note. Kevin and Eric returned to campus together as planned with classes starting the day after that. At that point, everyone had heard about their ‘break up’ before the winter holidays so they were equally surprised to see the two of them come back to campus together.

No one had much to say except their respective teams; the Exy players looked almost smug, as if the couple’s make up was their doing. On the other hand, the Ice Hockey players were a bit more hesitant to accept this new reality.

Kevin knew that there were no happy endings. Even if the two had gotten together, the world around them was still the same. Kevin himself still had many battles to fight on his own.

“Are you for real, dude?” One of Eric’s teammates asked the captain. They didn’t even bother to be discreet; they’d been waiting for Eric in the parking lot, all five players of their starting lineup.

“Caleb, this isn’t the time,” Eric said sternly. Kevin’s own expression was almost dismissive, but he still strained an ear as he finally got out of the car.

Kevin cared little for Eric’s teammates but that part of him that knew Eric cared for them still sought for their approval. Then again, when was Kevin not chasing for someone’s approval?

“Yes, this is the time. You aren’t going to waste your last years in college fake dating this asshole,” Caleb Richards, center player said, glaring at Kevin with eyes narrowed.

Kevin couldn’t really blame them, but he did believe the way they went about this was incredibly idiotic and not worth his time. Which was why he decided to hook an arm around Eric’s waist and pull him closer, all while staring at the ice hockey players with an unimpressed and unfazed expression.

“Not that it’s really any of your business-,” Kevin started, with a tone that was almost polite, as if he were talking to a host of a talk show, “- but Eric and I are dating. Now, if you excuse us, it was a long drive from Atlanta, and I believe we both need rest.”

They were all left staring as Kevin helped Eric pull his suitcase out of the trunk of the car. They both thought they were done talking about this for now but Nate Wilson, right defenseman spoke up,

“Finally.”

This had both Kevin and Eric staring at him. The blond that was staring back at them only grinned slightly and then walked over and punched Eric in the shoulder, hard enough that it made the taller goalie wince.

“We were really tired of seeing you moping around all the fucking time.”

Eric looked as if he was about to protest but one raised eyebrow from Bryce had him shutting up. Kevin was amused, the tension leaving his body. This was perhaps the most civilized conversation he’d ever had with the players of the Ice Hockey team. Not that they’d ever have reason to try and speak to each other. Kevin supposed that his relationship with Eric was perhaps the first and only bridge between the two teams.

“We really went all mother hen on you, huh?” Nick Matheson, left winger, asked with a toothy grin.

“Yes, a little bit,” Eric said, still rubbing his arm on the spot where Nate had punched him. However, there was a rather fond smile on his face and Kevin could almost tell he was fighting hard to keep a balance between his figure as a Captain and his role as a friend and part of this group.

“Well, pizza is on the way. Might as well stick around,” Bryce suggested and glanced at Kevin, giving him a small nod that said the invitation was open to him as well.

Kevin thought about it for a moment as he turned and glanced at Eric. The goalie gave him an encouraging smile which Kevin did not return, but the slight light to his eyes was enough.

“One condition,” he said as he turned his gaze to the Fox Tower behind them for a moment.

Kevin knew there was a high probability that he would regret this later. For one, it was hard to fit both teams in one dorm room, even if not every ice hockey player in the line up joined them. Somehow, they made it work.

Andrew looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else but here, but the fact he’d agree to come at all was a wonder only Neil could have achieved. The two of them settled down on the couch in Eric’s dorm room, keeping to themselves.

However, the rest appeared to have an easier time adjusting. Dan and Matt were already dedicated in a conversation with Nate and Nicky had no problems talking Caleb’s ears off, who seemed to be less than amused by the whole situation.

Eric walked over to Kevin with that stupid puppy smile. Kevin would never dare admit that he was, in fact, very attracted to that smile.

“Seems to me like all this time spent fighting each other was for nothing,” he said with a hum as he slipped an arm around Kevin’s waist. Kevin stood still and watched the interactions between the two teams.

“Perhaps. It doesn’t matter.” It didn’t. The rivalry between Exy and Ice Hockey players was something that went beyond the Palmetto teams. It was common, expected and sometimes encouraged for the spectacle of it. But the Foxes were known for being… unconventional. If anyone were to break these ‘universal rules’, it was them.

“I’m proud of you,” Eric suddenly said. Kevin froze for a moment and then glanced at the goalie, wanting to tell him that he didn’t need patronizing. The expression on the other’s face, however, was genuine.

Kevin’s expression must have been a questioning one because Eric was quick to start explaining after that.

“I think you don’t really recognize how much you’ve achieved. I’m not talking about Exy, I’m talking about-,” he made a general gesture with his hand, as if having a hard time finding the right words. “- this. I may not know the whole story, but I know it was hard for you to come back from your lowest point. The fact that you are clearly working on it is more than enough.”

Kevin remained silent for a moment, not sure if he’d ever heard such words before in his life. The only one who’d gotten close to them was Wymack, but the coach was not exactly known for being good at handling emotional situation, even if he had his own way with words.

He hadn’t known how much he’d needed to hear them until they finally came from someone. Kevin wasn’t okay. He was far from it. But that was fine because Kevin was trying. Once, he’d accepted that he would always be property.

Now, Kevin was free and had to deal with the aftermath. Which was fine. He could do it. He’d achieved and faced worse things in his life. He just needed time and space. Having people like Eric around him could only help him.

“Thank you,” Kevin finally said. He’d always known to put up a front but at that moment, it felt almost ridiculous to try and hide from Eric. Or from anyone, for that matter. If anything, his vulnerability only made him stronger.

Eric smiled at that and leaned in, kissing him softly on the lips.

Happy endings may not exist but at least Kevin had this new reality that he knew how he was going to officially introduce.

“Get up,” he told everyone as he closed the pizza boxes and grabbed the slice Nicky was nibbling on from his mouth.

Nicky groaned and tried to reach it again. “What the hell for?” He demanded. Kevin grinned slightly as he dumped the slice into one of the boxes.

“I think it’s time we return the favor to the Ice Hockey team and bring them over to our court.”

The Exy players did not need any more encouragement, except perhaps the twins. Eric managed to get his teammates to also go along with this and then turned to Kevin.

“Who are you and what have you done to Kevin?” He teased. Kevin only shrugged as he followed the others, watching them piling inside their cars.

“I guess I’m full of surprises.” Kevin said and smiled at Eric for only a passing moment before following the Monsters to the Maserati.

[springday-aus]

Hockey Player!AU with Mark

moodboard link

Group: NCT

Member: Mark Lee 

Genre: fluff, romance 

Additionally: college!au

Type: Bulletpoint AU

Word Count: approx. 2.3k 

→ Inspired by NCT U’s 90s Love! 

I’m gonna be completely honest: I don’t know shit about hockey so apologizes in advance

Mark is a left-winger for the team

he plays for his university’s team and they’re actually pretty good

within the three-ish years that he’s been on the team, they’ve won a couple of championships

it’s not really hard considering that Mark takes everything too seriously

(at least that’s what Donghyuk says during practice all the time)

Johnny somewhere: “okay Mark”

Yuta: “let’s not overreact Mark”

Taeyong: “leave my son alone”

Mark: “I’m a grown adult…”

Taeyong: “shhh”

since he used to play for his team back in hometown, he naturally joined the university’s team

he was a natural and everyone easily took a liking to him

especially since now they have someone to make fun of constantly

by they, I literally mean just Donghyuk

I’m just kidding—it’s all in good fun because it just shows how close they are

Mark is just that one college kid that’s still cute even when he’s not a freshman anymore

the other team members still treat him like the youngest even though YangYang and Sungchan are like

👁👄👁 hello ?

speaking of which, their teamwork is incredible and it shows through their games

and, on the rare occasions that they don’t win, they still have dinner together afterwards

well, it’s less of dinner and more of drinks and strategizing what went wrong—which are kind of depressing but it’s fine

at least that’s what Sicheng says as captain, but it sounds like denial

anyways, even though Ten is the co-captain, they all work to make their play plan together

they all contribute ideas, especially since they’ve been in the positions they’ve been in for, like, ever

anyways

again, Mark is like really good

so you know he got that bombass scholarship

and that’s what really pushes him to do well bc let’s be real, college is e x p e n s i v e

he also likes ice skating in general because the cold reminds him of home

so he’s one of those hockey players that also likes figures skaters and it’s funny because he gets so many weird looks from the others

(altho, Jeno goes with him sometimes bc he’s nice)

back to what I was saying tho: Mark is really good

despite his personality, he’s a bit more aggressive on the ice—considering he’s a forward

Donghyuk, the right-winger: he makes sense

there’s the passive aggressive-ness

Mark? who knew he had some strength to him when it’s actually applied

seriously, have you seen his thighs?

speaking of which, the team serves a lot of looks

which means a lot of speculators that show up to the games

which means lots of fans

people typically come for the looks, but then stay for the games bc the team is very underrated

they actually win games and everything but like

advertising for the team? nonexistent

@stupid college funding distributions that focus on mediocre sports like football

so, where do you fall into the mix? you’re an og stan

you’ve been in the stands since you entered university

it didn’t even have anything to do with the members (altho, it is nice to have some eye-candy)

you just……… like hockey

even if you don’t understand much about it

it’s just… interesting to watch

so, whenever the season rolls around, you go to the games

but to say over the years that you didn’t develop a particular attachment to our boy Mark…… is an absolute lie

so, do you have a crush on Mark?

yes

but also like

who doesn’t have a crush on Mark

this man is literally so talented and nice and adorable and he just makes you want to take care of him all the time and ugh

one of your friends went to a game with you and literally was just like “oh he’s cute”

You: “we know”

he’s def one of those guys who everyone has or has had a crush on at some point

and you are no different

the thing is that you are fine with not ever confessing because you’re happy with just being on the sidelines because you’ve. literally. just been on the sidelines…

the idea of confessing feels ridiculous bc realistically, what would you mean to some guy that literally e v e r y person has a crush on?

the thing is though is that Mark knows you

at least, he knows of your presence

if he didn’t, it would be embarrassing considering that you come to every game - he’s got loyalty unless some people

Ten: “who?”

Mark: “dude”

Donghyuk: “is this another one of your imaginary friends?”

Mark: “I TOLD YOU THAT IN CONFIDENCE”

jkjk , they all kind of know you, considering you’re one of the more consistent faces since they’ve been playing in these games (primarily the home ones bc free tickets for students but still)

you also don’t paint your face or anything—you just show up in your university sweatshirt with a couple of those foam light up sticks or something

again, not that wild like signs with his face or anything

you’re just…. a spectator

but yeah, Mark knows of you as a loyal fan ?

who also is kind of cute when you’re cheering for them

I want to emphasize that you have gone to, like, nearly every game, but the main ones you’ve *always* have gone to are the home games bc they’re more convenient

or the final games bc hello

they’re the finals, why the fuck would you miss the finals

I emphasize this because, when you’ve suddenly gone down with the flu, you literally cannot make it to the finals championship game

you thought: no one was gonna notice your absence anyways

haha, you thought

anyways

your friends figured you were sick from the beginning and were like, my friend, it’s flu season, stay away from me and pls stay at home

(wash your hands kids, it’s still covid season)

so you didn’t go and stayed in and binged watched iCarly or something

meanwhile, during the game, Mark was like

where... where are you???

so homeboy is highkey distracted and lowkey worried bc did you die???

(you were dying bc of your clogged nostrils, but otherwise, no)

they somehow managed to win by a couple of points so it was kind of fine

but the teasing was increased by all of Mark’s friends

i.e. Johnny, Donghyuk, Jaehyun, and everyone else

come on, it’s so easy to make fun of him

but like he doesn’t care about any of it bc he was worried about you

which got him thinking

why is he worried about someone whose name he doesn’t even know? is there something more? why is there something more? he literally doesn’t know you? except that you come to the games and you’re really cute cheering him on? what is this?

you know, ✨just Mark things✨

this bothered him for quite a bit more than he liked to admit

and it’s about a couple of days later

things are normal and you don’t feel like everything is dripping out of your nose

until you’re walking through campus from your class

and there’s some footsteps running from behind you that makes you coil up into a semi-standing ball bc you thought a bunch of frat boys were just excited or some shit

but then the footsteps stop at you and you’re standing there, wide-eyed

in front of an out of breath Mark

he was walking out of his class with Jaemin and he spotted you from across the quad

and immediately ran to you

Jaemin: I was talking but okay

this isn’t about you Jaemin

anyways

Mark is in front of you, panting and you’re just like sir?

You: “how are you out of breath? aren’t you an athlete?”

Mark: “oh my God, you’re just like Donghyuk”

you give him a bit of time (and some water bc he seemed like he needed it)

and once he’s caught his breath, he stands up and blurts it out

Mark: “what happened to you during the championship?”

You: “....................... what?”

seeing you blink at him confused, he can feel his ears reddening when he’s realized the situation he’s put himself into

Mark: “um, I just”

Mark: “I noticed that you weren’t at the game”

You: still confused bc how does he know about you

You: “huh?”

Mark: oh my God this is the wrong person, want to die

Mark: “you know what, I have the wrong person, I’m just gonna bounce I am so sorry—”

he starts backing up, but you aren’t letting him escape

You: “whoawhoawhoawhoawhoa, hold up hold up”

You: “I didn’t even know that you knew that I knew you”

You: “wait, did you run here just to ask me that?”

Mark is full on flushed at this point bc of all the questions and realizations and it’s all crashing down on him all too soon

and now you have this mischievous look in your eyes that remind him of Ten when he’s clowning Doyoung and he feels like he’s made a mistake

a good mistake but still a mistake

You: “is it?”

Mark: “well, you like, show up to all of our games and you didn’t go to the finals so I didn’t know if anything happened”

You: “oh, I got sick and I figured I shouldn’t be going into giant crowds while having my insides die internally”

You: “but, I did hear from my friends, congrats btw”

Mark: “thanks”

Mark: “are you feeling better tho?”

You: “yeah, but like, my throat is still kind of shitty”

Mark: “oh, if you want, I have a couple of friends who might be able to cook something up for your throat”

Mark: “I’d offer to make something, but Kun doesn’t let me in the kitchen anymore after finding out about the egg incident”

You: “the egg incident?”

Mark: “I can’t cook, like. at all.”

You: “I think I’m good, I was just gonna go get some tea to make it less scratchy or something”

Mark: “I can walk you?”

You: “sure”

so you two go to a cafe or something for you to get some warm tea and you two end up talking and you get to know each other a bit

and then you end up trading numbers and you make some time together

since Mark doesn’t have to go to practice until the next season, his time has opened up considerably

sometimes you study together

other times, you go check out some other places nearby campus

(eventually, you did get to try Taeyong, Jaehyun, and Kun’s food, to which there was no turning back at that point bc they make the best kind of food—free)

you’re basically dating at this point and his friends know you as his significant other so

Chenle: “is (Y/N) gonna be here?”

Mark: “no? it’s our movie night”

Donghyuk: “aren’t you dating tho?”

Mark: “what”

he told you he took it casually and cool, but considering how red his ears were getting when he told you………………. cute

Mark: “c-can you believe they thought we were dating?”

You: “is that not what we’re doing?”

Mark: “what?”

you both established your relationship after that and Mark got a lot more shy and it’s super adorable bc it makes you wanna take care of him and ugh

he’s precious okay

also cut to him trying to ask the other guys for advice, but then he gets embarrassed as Johnny and Ten tries to educate him about love

or how Lucas gives him cheesy lines to use on you

these boys are having a field day and Xiaojun and Doyoung have never felt more at peace

anyways

def the nervous type that he can’t even hold your hand and keeps asking if it’s okay

so you’re the top of this relationship bc he’s a shy lil boy

after a bit tho, he gets more comfortable and it’s great

he’ll get teased often right? when it happens in front of you, he just runs to you with a whine of your name and buries his face into your neck

and you end up yelling at someone

it’s cute tho

bc they def see you both as an adorable couple

when the hockey season starts rolling around again, you def spend more time at the practices—whether you’re there to watch, do your homework, or just help motivate him to play better

you started dressing up more too, especially since he gave you his jersey so you started wearing them to the games (and also face paint bc Jungwoo had some extra for an unknown reason)

and you make Mark Lee signs and it’s super cute

Sicheng also invites you to the afterparty dinners bc why not

also, remember that thing I said about watching figure skaters?

you two watch the Olympics for that and it’s like tradition now for you two to settle in front of the tv with snacks and watch them skate

so, since he’s an athlete, he has to be careful with his body bc then like scholarship will go poof

that means some of your dates might be physically limited

like he’ll go mini-golfing with you, but he can’t go to like self-defense classes with you

he’ll go to support you but if his foot gets busted, his coach and the rest of the team will be on his ass and he feels a bit bad about it but like you understand

considering that you absolutely refuse to get on the ice bc hockey is hard people

speaking of hockey, you told Mark he’s hot when he plays and he was FLUSHED

bc like the look in his eyes and the way he carries himself…. reminds you of when you’re doing some more………...steamy activities

anyways, stan Mark Lee

he’s a sweetheart who works so hard and you’re there to provide him with lots of love

[legoshi-plz]

Can we get some general headcanons of dating Louis plz 🥺👉👈

You sure can! I don’t know why but this prompt really called to me for some reason and it’s a nice break from the usual! This is with College!Louis simply because..... I’m a simp for College! Louis 😳

Reader can be read as any gender or animal type/class.

Warning: NSFW +18 [under the NSFW warning, first half is SFW]

*Disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about Deer in general and made up 100% of the stuff in here because I am too lazy to actually google Deer physiology (also I just wanted to make the hcs)

///////

Okay so let’s start at the beginning! Like the beginning beginning. Louis saw you around campus but he’s still a Herbivore so he was shy about approaching you. Despite his overbearing superiority complex in high school, I feel like College would really put him back into reality. You have no reason to idolize him or fear him. He might be pretty popular on campus but he’s nowhere near the God-status he thought he had so he’s unsure of how to even approach a total stranger that he sees everywhere and can’t stop thinking about. Also he has an insane amount of insecurities which end up getting the best of him causing him to chicken out every time he wanted to get close to you.

You on the other hand? Barely noticed him. You’d seen him (his gigantic antlers which got even bigger in college were pretty hard to miss) but you regarded him as out of your league and immediately put him out of your mind. You weren’t one to dwell on if boys liked you/why didn’t boys like you blah blah blah.

Needless to say, your first few interactions with Louis were pretty terrible. He was awkward, stiff, defensive, it was like pulling teeth but in verbal form. You didn’t like him.

One day you brushed beside him and he nearly jumped out of his skin. You asked him what his problem was and he answered honestly “Sorry, you make me incredibly nervous.”

Suddenly it all clicked, the averted eyes, the bristled fur, the awkward stuttering. He might have outwardly appeared suave to any other animal on campus but he was still just a Herbivore with a crush.

Moving on, the two of you start dating and Louis is completely wrapped around your finger. It takes a while for his initial nerves around you to wear off, even after the relationship turned romantic. He constantly wanted to impress you or seem cool to you which you repeatedly reminded him you didn’t care about but it was important to him.

Once the two of you were more settled into the relationship and had been dating for some time, he still likes to impress you. Not to the same extent as before but he never folds on certain aspects because your opinion of him is something he values gravely, even if he won’t admit that to you.

King of Self Neglect, he stays up way too late studying, gets hardly no sleep, stretches himself way too thin but will still always make time for you even if he’s utterly exhausted. One time he nearly fell asleep sitting up while the two of you were on a date. You drove him back to your place, tucked him into bed and let him sleep it off. He felt awful the next morning for ruining the date and cleared his schedule the entire next day for a ‘redo’.

If ever verbally asked, Louis will vehemently deny liking PDA. In actually, however, he can’t keep his hands off you. He’s always touching you, caressing your cheek, holding you around the waist, interlocking your hands (especially the pinkies!! he doesn’t even realize he does that one, you’ll just look up and he’s totally aloof to this soft gesture), resting his chin on the top of your head/shoulder, nuzzling your neck (this is a big one for Deer and actually a declaration of love but you don’t know that). He’s pretty touch-starved but he hates to admit it so please indulge his clingy behavior (and he is very clingy.)

Speaking of clinginess, Louis is still incredibly petty and if he feels you’re not making enough time for him, expect to be called out on it.

“Am I not enough for you?” “If you prefer the single life, I can stop burdening you with this relationship.” “I see I come last in your life, as always.” “Don’t string me along. Either breakup with me here and now, or actually be with me.” “I see you do not take this relationship as seriously as myself. I will adjust my expectations of you accordingly.”

He’s a total drama queen and at first his proclamations scared you, thinking he was going to break up with you. But once you realized he was just overly dramatic about everything, you barely bat an eye now. You still try to make it up to him, though, whenever he’s feeling neglected. He’s enjoys that very much.

Any holiday, he’s asking you to come home with him. The mansion gets pretty lonely with just him and Oguma and he wants you there with him. You almost always comply.

At first he was pretty insecure about his leg and felt like you might think he was a freak because of it or worse: weak. You always let him know that you don’t care about his leg and that you love him regardless, even though you believe he has nothing to be ashamed of in the first place. That always makes his heart burst with love for you and he turns into absolute puddy in your hands.

Very jealous. Still holds on a little to that envy he has for Carnivores and thinks one might steal you away, especially since a couple of your male friends are Carnivores. In his mind, who wouldn’t want to be with some one bigger or stronger? He tends to lash out when he’s feeling particularly jealous and it’s the cause of almost 90% of the fights you two have.

When it comes to fights, even though Louis can be very petty, he hates every second the two of you are at odds so he usually apologizes fairly quickly. If you are the one who is in the wrong, he will continue to do normal activities (holding your hand, going out to dinner, cuddling) but he will do it angrily and give you the silent treatment until you apologize (please apologize quickly, he hates being mad at you even if he doesn’t admit it.)

His favorite activity? Anything where you lay on his chest. He lives for it and he really doesn’t get a restful sleep unless you’re on his chest. (Also he totally owned a weighted blanket before he met you because Deers usually sleep cuddled together in little huddles so it’s just kind of their ‘thing’ but it doesn’t hold a candle to when he has you sleeping on his chest. Actually had a “Is this what I’ve been missing all these years?” revelation moment when you two first started dating.)

Wear his clothes, it makes him feel manly also he thinks you look adorable. Plus he loves when you give them back and they’re covered in your scent, makes him feel so... owned? But in a good way! As if you were staking your claim on him which is a secret weakness of his.

Doesn’t really like Horror movies but will endure them if you’re into them. Likes to watch with you on his lap and his hands under your shirt (yes, he’s extremely distracting and yes he’s just trying to fool around. He couldn’t care less about the plot because he finds it unrealistic and not scary)

Though Louis had long ago cast aside the thought of having children (he doesn’t believe he’ll be a good father, similar to Oguma), any time he sees you interact with children and how well children respond to you, it awakens that inner ‘Stag’ in him and suddenly the thought of having kids doesn’t seem so bad, not if you’re by his side. He tends to try to not linger on those feelings for too long though so he doesn’t get any big ideas.

Okay now time for the NSFW portion.

Once again, Louis can! not! keep! his!hands! off! you!

Male Deer have a higher sex drive than the average Herbivore male so please be prepared for that.

Loves when his partner is kinda heavy, it amplifies the sex for him. His favorite thing is when they ride him/bounce on top of him, it’s practically an instant nut from him.

Louis can force himself to hold off on coming if he has to but he has a ridiculously quick recovery time along with the stamina for multiple rounds so he’d rather just come in or on his partner then keep going rather than prolonging it.

Oral is a power play to him and nothing turns him on more than using his incredibly long/skilled tongue to turn his partner into a weeping mess before him.

Has a habit of picking his partner up and throwing them over his shoulder to carry them to the bedroom. Asserts his dominance and he knows his long legs will get you both there faster.

He loves a vocal partner, and craves every syllable you can muster during sex. Whimpering his name mixed in with nonsensical affirmations of love gets his heart (and cock) instantly swelling.

Remember that he likes heavier partners? Well that ties into the whole thing with the weighted blanket and Deers just in general craving something on top of them, so naturally Louis prefers when you’re on top but is happy to participate in any position you prefer. Just know if it’s missionary or some variation of that, he is throwing your legs over his shoulders (so it’s kinda like a compromise?) The boy just really loves having you draped over him, okay?

Also in the case of a heavier partner, he is always trying to flex his strength and assure you that you’re not too heavy for him at all. Always picking you up (to fuck you against the wall), sitting you in his lap (to finger fuck you), carrying you bridal style (to take you to the bedroom to fuck you.) He’s very determined to show you just how obsessed he is with your body.

He’s very weak when getting his cock sucked and WILL come in your mouth within a few minutes. He’s not ashamed in the least bit.

You have about a five minute window after sex to do everything you need to do (use the bathroom, get cleaned up, etc.) because once he atttaches himself to you, you’re not going anywhere. Cuddling after sex isn’t optional, even if he’s mad at you.

Speaking of which, angry sex with Louis? Absolutely mind-blowing. Once he’s in full blown Stag mode, there’s really little you can do except lay there and take his huge cock while he pumps you with load after load of cum. Also, the overstimulation is out of this world.

Louis’ demeanor completely cracks after sex and he’s literally at his most vulnerable with you then. Openly confesses just how much you mean to him in moments like these while showering you with aftercare/ affection. Really turns into the lovey dovey type and likes to just sit there stroking your fur whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you lay on his chest.

This has probably gone on long enough so I’m just going to end this here but the boy’s madly in love with you, enough said.

[sunkissedpages]

breaking curfew [part thirteen] || th x reader

A/N: shoutout to my gf @httpchrisevans for helping me with a line i was stuck on lol

Summary: When you got the job to be a counselor at the summer camp you’d grown up attending all your life, you expected to see some familiar faces. But you certainly hadn’t counted on having to work alongside the boy who had made it his life’s mission to make your life a living hell every summer. In fact, you thought you’d never have to see Tom Holland again. But he’s is in the cabin right across from yours with campers of his own- smirk, jawline, and all. If you didn’t know any better you might’ve thought that he applied for the position just to spite you, but who were you kidding? What kind of asshole would do something like that?

Warnings: swearing, angst

What I listened to while writing: the breaking curfew playlist by @cinnamon-roll-peter​​

Word Count: 2.6k

Series Masterlist

You spent a good fifteen minutes ironing your polo in Zendaya’s cabin after your shower that morning. You needed it to look as pristine in order to make a good impression on the parents this weekend. Well, as good of an impression as you could make with your arm in a neon cast.

Parent’s weekend couldn’t have come at a worse time for you. You already were a mess inside and out, and after that conversation with Fy you didn’t feel like doing anything other than crawling into bed and and hibernating for a few weeks until camp was over so you never had to face him or Tom ever again. 

“Jesus, y/n, I think all the wrinkles are out! You’re going to burn the fucking shirt if you keep doing that!” Z shouted and leapt off her bed to grab the iron from your hands. 

“Sorry, I just want it to look presentable,” you apologized and took a step back, rubbing your temples.

“It looks fine, babe. Any stiffer and I don’t think you’d be able to put it on.” She gave you a sideways look. “You okay?”

It was no use lying to her because she could always tell when you were so you just shook your head. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You gave another shake of your head and sighed. “I can’t start crying right now, we’ve got to go deal with these parents in like five minutes.”

“Is it about Tom because I’m still taller than him, I can still beat him up.” 

“Is it ever not about Tom?”

Z screwed up her face in distaste. “Bastard.”

“Easy, Tiger, you don’t even know what he’s done yet.”

“I don’t need to know, he's an asshole.”

 She had a point. “You have a point. But if anyone’s gonna beat him up it’s me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’d spend my life savings to see that.”

“Oh and what is that, twenty bucks?”

“What is that twenty bucks?” she repeated mockingly and flipped you off.

You rolled your eyes.  “Can you just get over here and help me with my shirt?”

Buttons were harder to do with one hand and on normal days you’d just take the extra time to painstakingly fasten them yourself, but since your best friend was right there you figured you might as well make her useful.

Once your shirt was buttoned all the way up and tucked into your khaki shorts (the uniforms were literally the best birth control) you made the trek back to your own cabin to wait for the parents. 

All the campers were at the dining hall for breakfast with the bonus counselors because the primaries were supposed to greet the parents at their cabins to avoid all the chaos... and potential tears, which meant you’d have to put on your best smile and pretend like everything was perfectly fine. It had seemed easy enough to do merely an hour ago, but now even thinking about it was making your head spin. 

But you’d have to do your best to push all of that down because a thin, blonde lady was making her way towards you with an expectant look on her face. You recognized her as May’s mother, and it didn’t surprise you that she was first. 

She reintroduced herself and shook your hand. “So how did you break your arm again?” she asked, not wasting any time. “It wasn’t while doing anything dangerous, was it?”

An email had been sent by your boss to all of the parents/guardians of your campers detailing the entire situation when it had happened just to keep them in the loop, but clearly this woman wanted to hear it straight from the source. It was evident that she’d been agonizing about it for weeks, wondering if her child was actually safe here. 

“No,” you reassured her, “it was during a counselors-only activity, don’t worry. There weren’t any campers involved.”

She seemed to relax a little and laughed artificially. “Oh good, my husband and I were a little spooked when we got that email, but I’m glad you’re doing okay.”

She actually hadn’t asked how you were doing and obviously didn’t really care either way so you just forced a smile. “Thank you.”

Then before she could mention anything else Grace’s dads arrived with Amalia’s parents not far behind. They each exchanged niceties with you before falling into amicable chatter amongst themselves, leaving you to hang back in silence. 

You were grateful not to have to participate and instead rocked back and forth on your heels as you anxiously waited for your campers to get back from breakfast. 

They’d been so excited last night while deep cleaning the cabin in preparation, they didn’t even complain about their chores. Theo had even offered to help the other girls with their tasks so it could get done faster, but secretly you knew she was only doing it because she was a bit of a perfectionist and wanted everything to be just so for the special weekend. 

Eva’s parents arrived next, then finally Theo’s mom jogged up to the porch just in time for the kids to return from the caf. 

There was a lot of loud chatter and laughter as the families hugged and got reacquainted with each other and it made your heart ache just a little. You remembered what it was like to be that young, to drag your mom and dad around campus for the entire weekend and ramble on about all of your activities and new friends and whatever else you could think of. You had to catch them up on everything they missed, tell them all of the stories you’d been saving all summer. The nostalgia was like a punch in the stomach on top of everything else and suddenly you weren’t sure if you’d actually be able to pull this weekend off. 

You gave them a few more minutes to talk before getting the parents’ attention and inviting everyone inside for a family circle time. 

The girls excitedly showed their parents their bunks and pointed out all of the decorations that had accrued on the walls of the cabin since the beginning of the summer. The coloring pages from that very first day, art projects and medals from daily activities, postcards from family, and dozens of developed pictures of the girls from your disposable camera hung up around the room. Your favorite was a photo of the six of you at the Wild West night from a couple weeks ago. Everyone had a different colored plastic cowboy hat on and was posing back to back with a partner holding up finger guns. You were back to back with Eva and the height difference between the two of you was absolutely ridiculous. Just looking at the picture made you laugh. 

Once everyone settled on the floor you cleared your throat and started the programming. 

“Good morning, it’s great to see you all again, glad you could make it. I’m y/n, cabin eleven counselor, and we’re so excited to get to share our camp life with you for the next few days! First, I’m just gonna go over the itinerary for the weekend and then you can hit me with any questions you have before we head down for the big group meeting.”

-

“How’re your kids’ parents?” Tom asked at lunch later that day as he casually brushed up against your ass.

You whipped around and smacked his hand away almost immediately out of instinct. Tom gave you a look like a wounded puppy and retracted his hand. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, still looking confused. “Are you... okay?”

“I-” you looked up and caught the eye of one of your parents back at your table and smiled painfully. “Yeah, I’m good.”

For whatever reason he pretended to buy it and shrugged. “Okay, well listen, I’ve been thinking and I was wondering if you’d consider switching activities back to arts and crafts with me?”

You almost dropped the jello you were putting on your tray, but Tom caught it smoothly before it fell. 

“What?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come back to arts and crafts...” he trailed off awkwardly, “because, you know, we’re kind of in a different place now.” 

When you didn’t say anything he continued to stumble on. “I, uh, just thought it would be nice to spend more time together... not having sex.” 

You opened your mouth but words wouldn’t come out. 

“Whaddya say?” 

It was hard to remember why you were mad at him when he looked at you like that. But it was also hard to forget what he had done. 

“Y/n?”

“Um, I have to go,” you said suddenly and turned on your heel. “My arm is hurting. I have to go get my pain meds.”

“Wait, y/n-”

As you hurried out of the cafeteria you threw a look over your shoulder at Nicole asking to take over for you until you got back. You hoped she got the message. 

It felt like the whole caf was watching as you ran out of the room, leaving Tom standing there by himself. Your campers didn’t even blink as you rushed by them. They were pretty used to it at this point. 

The noise from inside faded into the background as soon as you stepped onto the grass. You looked around and realized you didn’t know where exactly you were running to, much less what you were really running from. 

You didn’t want to go to your cabin just in case Tom or someone else went after you. You didn’t want to go down to the lake where everyone could see you either. The bonus cabin wasn’t an option and neither was the canoe shed. You wanted to scream. For the first time in your life you felt trapped in your favorite place on earth. It was suffocating, being stuck on this mountain with all the people from your past, but there was nowhere to go. 

You ended up sunken down in the back seat of your van, playing with your keys as tears streamed down your face. It felt stupid to cry. You’d known Tom for over half your life, and you’d known exactly the kind of person he was when you started sleeping with him. You really played yourself with that one.

You wished you could spend the rest of your day hiding from Tom in your car, but you still had a cabin full of campers and their parents waiting for you. You couldn’t stick them with Nicole for too long. She had her own responsibilities to take care of this weekend too.

-

Your girls were ecstatic to have their parents in town. It was all they talked about that evening after they were dropped back off at the cabin. 

“My dad said your cast is cool,” Grace said as she climbed into her bed. 

You finished looping a hair tie on the end of Theo’s braid and looked up. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, he said he had one too when he was your age and that casts make you look cool, but my other dad just laughed at him and said he wishes.”

“Well, tell him I say thank you,” you laughed.

As your campers finished getting ready for bed you went around the room like you always did and picked up anything that was lying on the floor. You kicked some stray shoes under the beds so no one would trip on them in the middle of the night and turned off the light before saying your good nights. 

“Good night, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite!”

They had started saying it back to you just recently and they were slowly getting better at saying it all in unison too. It made every night a little sweeter. 

You expected your mind to be swimming with thoughts of Tom that night, but you found yourself thinking about your girls instead. Parents weekend had always been bittersweet for you because as fun as it was, it also meant that the end of the summer was right around the corner. You felt like you had just started to get to know your campers and now in just a few weeks you’d be saying goodbye.

-

It was Sunday evening when Tom managed to corner you next. You had spent all weekend avoiding him by sticking close to the parents in your group, always pretending to be engaged in a conversation when he came anywhere near you. And it always worked, but now the parents were gone and you had to fend for yourself. It felt oddly similar to being dropped off at college for the first time and feeling completely lost.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked you as you walked up to Harrison’s cabin.

It was then that you realized that you’d fallen into a trap. Haz had texted you asking to bring the geocaching clues over to his cabin so he could go plot the course for tomorrow when really he was probably just doing a favor for Tom by getting you here.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied, biting your lip as you did.

“That’s bullshit, you haven’t talked to me all weekend, you haven’t texted me back, you’ve been ignoring me-”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you gave a fuck about me all of the sudden,” you snapped bitterly and pushed past him to go back down the stairs.

“Wha- I was just worried!” Tom said defensively and sidestepped back in front of you.

“About me?” 

“Well, yeah,” he admitted. “I’m sorry if I made things weird by asking about arts and crafts. We don’t have to have that sort of relation-er, friendship if you don’t want to.”

You never thought you’d hear Tom say the word friendship in reference to you. The word alone sounded foreign rolling off his tongue, like it was something he wasn’t really sure about.

You scoffed. “This isn’t about that.”

“Then what is it about?” he asked, practically begging now.

“It’s about you spending over a fucking decade trying to embarrass me!”

Tom looked bewildered. “Are you kidding me? That’s what this is about?”

“And don’t you dare say we were just kids, or that it wasn’t that big of a deal because it was a big deal. To me.” He still looked confused so you decided to spell it out for him. “Why did you tell Fy that I had a crush on you that summer?”

The memory flickered in front of Tom’s eyes as he realized what you were talking about and his expression shifted into one you couldn’t read.

“I spent weeks trying to figure out why he stopped talking to me, wondering what I had done wrong to make him not want to be friends with me anymore.” You were crying again, but this time you didn’t care. “Then one day after total radio silence I get a note from him saying to meet me on the dock after curfew? And you show up instead? Don’t you realize how fucked up that is? And now all these years later I let myself fall for you like all the girls I swore I’d never be. I fell for you even though you made my life hell every summer for years, even though you hated me and I didn’t even know why-” you stopped to catch your breath and sighed, shaking your head. “It’s... it’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Y/n,” Tom reached out for your shoulder, but you jerked away. Only then did you realize that he was also crying. He took a step back and pushed a hand through his curls like he did when he was trying to get his thoughts together. “Fuck, I- I messed up really bad.”

“You don’t say?” you chuckled dryly and rolled your eyes. 

“No, you don’t understand,” he insisted.

“Enlighten me then.”

“I only signed that note as Fy because I knew you wouldn’t show up if it was from me.”

idk why this part was so hard to get out but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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[jalapeno-princess]

I Told You To Never Fall In Love With Me

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 8.4k

Genre: Angst, fluff, mentions of sex (Oh and if you stan Jinyoung, this story isn’t for you)

Summary: As a college student, you vowed to yourself that you would never get involved with the college night life. Partying, getting drunk on cheep alcohol and getting high on drugs was a big no in your book. But what if the toxic drug you end up getting addicted to isn’t a substance but a person? 

A/N: Hey guys! I started writing this story around two months ago but I didn’t have the motivation to continue it until like two nights ago so here it is! Based on the song “Don’t make it harder on me” By Chloe and Halle! Highly recommend that you listen to it before or while reading. Please enjoy!!

“Uh, Y/n—would you care to explain why Mark Tuan is looking at you as if he’s undressing you with his eyes? He’s looking at you like he’s a predator ready to pounce and you’re his prey. Is there something I’m missing out on here?” 

Your best friend’s words both annoyed you, yet sent fire to your bones. It was tempting—the thought of turning around and witnessing for yourself what he claimed was Mark gazing at you so endearingly and in a sexual way even. However, Mark Tuan was nothing but danger. He was a drug you were addicted to for longer than you’d like to admit—but you finally came to the realization less than a month ago that you deserved so much better than the boy in question. 

The high you got from sneaking and fooling around with Mark faded the second you found out he wasn’t who you thought he was—who you thought he was changing in to; in order to be better for you. You let out a scoff before rolling your eyes at the thought of him indirectly trying to get your attention. What you and Mark had was a secret nobody knew other than the two of you. That was the agreement from the beginning of whatever it was that went on between you and Mark—it was his idea in the first place, you should have known he wasn’t serious about you if he was adamant on hiding your relationship from everyone. 

“Just ignore him Youngjae. You’ll only add on to his big ass ego and God knows that’s the last thing anyone needs. There’s nothing going on between him and I. Well, not anymore.” 

The last sentence came out a whisper—you didn’t want to lie to him; you and Youngjae told everything to each other. In fact, you knew the older boy better than you knew yourself. He was the younger brother—well, two months younger—that you never had but always wanted. He was extremely loyal to you, he was a great shoulder to cry on and an even better listener. You were dying to tell anyone about Mark—especially when you realized what you were feeling for him was going past the agreement you made with him, but you didn’t want word to spread throughout school about your little affair. 

Although you were well aware that Youngjae would never say or do anything to hurt you or get you in to any kind of trouble, you felt like this was something you had to keep to yourself. By the look of confusion on his face and the way he kept opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something but closing it ultimately, you figured that he probably had a feeling that you weren’t telling him the entire truth. Thankfully, he didn’t pry to get you to confess as to why you harbored ill-feelings for Mark—that wasn’t who he was. After six years of friendship, Youngjae was able to depict when the right time was to ask you what was wrong and when he should keep his questions to himself. Unfortunately, his eyes widened in shock and it made your skin crawl when you noticed that his attention was no longer on you. 

“Oh, well—um—I hate to say this y/n, but he’s coming over right now.” You could feel your heart rate increase rapidly at his words. What was he thinking? He had to be high right now; there was no way he was going to let anyone else on campus know he was affiliated with you in some way. Both you and Mark came from two different classes on the social pyramid; he was your typical college jock—popular, outgoing and devastatingly good looking. You on the other hand considered yourself a wallflower. 

Unlike Mark, you enjoyed keeping to yourself and your small group of friends. You weren’t living the college experience he and his friends were. College parties were a big no to you—you hated alcohol, smoking and loud, shitty music with all these sweaty bodies dancing up against one another. It wasn’t your scene—yet it was all Mark ever seemed to do on his Friday nights; especially since he was the one who coordinated most of the parties. 

The two of you were an unlikely pair, but then again, opposites attract and you despised that they did. Honestly to this day you weren’t even sure how you both stumbled in to each other’s lives. You had Mark in one of your classes last semester and you made sure to stay the hell away from him. He was the definition of a flirt—he had to be the biggest player on campus and that said a lot. Matter of a fact, his entire group of friends were notorious for sleeping around with anyone and everyone. 

Rumor around your university was that they threw parties every weekend with the desire of bedding someone during or after the party was over. You found it ridiculous that they would use these girls for one thing and one thing only—sex. You had to give them credit though; Mark, Jaebeom, Jackson and BamBam made it their duty to tell each girl they were planning to be intimate with what their plans were. They never fucked the same girl twice, that’s just how it was. Well—that’s how it was for Mark until that fateful night the two of you stumbled to bed together for the first time of many. 

What started off as a study session with you sitting practically three tables away from Mark ended up with him fucking you—rearranging your guts and blowing your back out up against his refrigerator. As much as you wanted to say you regretted hooking up with him and that having sex with Mark was a brief lapse of judgement on your part, deep down in your heart, you knew you could never regret Mark. 

At one point—he was all you wanted for as long as you could have him. As long as he allowed you to have him. To your dismay, he decided he didn’t want to continue giving himself to you for longer than what was necessary. For the last week, he’s been trying to get in touch with you. You found it extremely weird; he was the one who ended up breaking your trust and ruining everything, so you had a hard time understanding why he began to text and call you—even showing up to your classes once you were done in the hopes that you would listen to what he had to say. 

You were really good with ignoring him so far—you let every single call and message go unread and straight to voicemail. He needed to know that you no longer wanted anything to do with him; a decision you should have made a long time ago. Before he could have gained your trust and respect only to make you look like a fool for believing that he was going to give up his fuckboy mentality to settle down and start a relationship with you. Silly you for thinking that Mark Tuan could ever look at you as more than a place to bury his dick. You began to mentally prepare yourself for his actions or what he would say once he got to where you and Youngjae were sitting. 

A part of you wanted to pick up your food and walk away—but that would only make you look bad and if anything, Mark would be led to believe that there was a chance you still had feelings for him. If he were to see the effect that just the mere thought of him was currently having on you, you knew he wouldn’t let you live it down. 

“Hey Youngjae, how are you?” It’s been three and a half weeks since you left him naked and painfully hard at his apartment. You could still remember the night like it was yesterday, although—you’ve been trying to push the memory to the back of your mind as much as you could. Every time you began to think about how you found a pair of lingerie in Mark’s drawer that didn’t belong to you, you wanted to throw up. The thought of him sleeping with someone else while the two of you had this pathetic excuse of a friends with benefits situation made you sick to your stomach. 

Sure, you knew exactly what you were getting yourself in to when you agreed to having no strings attached, but then again—you weren’t planning on falling in love with him the way you found yourself doing in less than a month after your first hook up. Friends with benefits affairs were tricky—most people assumed it was just sex between two consenting adults; they both got what they wanted out of the relationship—mind blowing sex without all the unnecessary drama that comes with a romantic relationship. However, it’s easier said than done. One of the partners always ends up falling for the other whether they liked it or not and in most cases, their love is unrequited and unfortunately, you were one of the unlucky ones. 

Mark Tuan could never be tied down—you were crazy to think that one day, he would give up his playing ways to be with you. But at the same time, you weren’t exactly out of your mind. There was a point in your agreement that Mark started acting clingier and touchier towards you—during times where you weren’t being intimate. It was as if he always needed to be touching you in some way. 

He always had to be holding your hand, he’d throw his arm over your shoulder while you’d watch a movie, he’d wrap his arms around your waist and place his chin on your head if you were cooking and he’d run his fingers through your hair as you would lie down together. Mark began staying over after the two of you were to reach your orgasms—something that was considerably taboo for people who were simply just “fucking”. He would wake up early to make you breakfast, he’d send you comforting text messages if you had a rough day at either work or school, he’d stay up to help you with homework so your work load wasn’t too much for you to carry, he started to buy you things that he thought you’d like and unlike most people in friends with benefits relationships, right after you’d finish having your way with one another, you and Mark would talk for hours about whatever it was that your hearts desired. 

If he didn’t want anything romantic to come out of your relationship, then why was he allowing himself to do all of these things with you that only legitimate couples would do. Did he not think that calling you in the middle of the night because you weren’t able to see each other went past the boundaries that he set up when you began your little rendezvous? Did he not find it weird that the two of you were acting like a couple—kissing you before he would leave your house, joining you on your FaceTime calls with your mom, blow drying your hair for you after you took a shower and preparing lunch for you before you went to school—did friends with benefits do things like that? 

You knew you meant a lot more to Mark than he was letting on, even more so when he began trying to get you to talk to him. If what the two of you had was simply a sexual relationship, why was he still trying to get you to hear him out? He could have sex with anybody; in fact, you would have thought that this is what he wanted. Having sex with the same person if you weren’t in a relationship with them was something Mark was obviously not used to. The two of you weren’t exclusive, but two things you asked for was honesty and loyalty. 

As much as you wanted to lie and tell yourself that you didn’t want him sleeping with anyone other than you for sanitary reasons, you were well aware that you’d be completely crushed if you were to find out that he was giving himself to other women while you were only allowing him to have you. It didn’t take long for you to realize that you had feelings for him—it took you even a shorter amount of time to realize that what you felt for him was love. Once you realized that you were in love with Mark, there was nothing more you wanted than to tell him—you were starting to believe that he also felt the same way about you. But then again, there were so many doubts clouding your mind. What if he were to end things with you because you broke one of the rules—no feelings. 

What if he was only acting so affectionate towards you because he thought it was the only way to keep you around? You felt pathetic and you hated that you were letting yourself go through all of this suffering for a man who probably couldn’t give less of a shit about you other than when you were riding him—bouncing on his cock like you were made to do so. When did you allow someone—anyone—specifically an asshole like Mark Tuan; the sole person you made a pact with yourself that you’d never get involved with—play with your heart like it was some kind of toy? Why did you allow him in to your walls that you’ve set so high—meant for someone who genuinely cared about you—wanted you for you and not just for your body? 

Youngjae’s eyes widened at the greeting. He must have been in shock, he’s never heard Mark say anything to him before, let alone call him by his name as if they were well acquainted with each other. Not only did you and Mark come from two completely different worlds, but your friends never associated with Mark’s friends or anyone like them. So you had a feeling with the way Youngjae looked as though he saw a ghost, he was taken a back by Mark’s sudden hospitality. You on the other hand did not buy it at all; you knew he was going to try and coerce Youngjae in to leaving so that he could finally talk to you but there was no way in hell that you were going to allow such a thing to happen. Mark Tuan was in your past and you had every intent on leaving him there. 

“H—hi Mark. What can we do for you?” 

You had to stifle a laugh at the shakiness in the younger boy’s voice. Youngjae was a very shy and soft-spoken kind of person. He was evidently intimidated by people like Mark which is why you mentally cursed him knowing that he would probably do whatever the older boy asked of him. 

“I um—I was wondering if maybe I could talk to y/n?” 

Watching him scratch the back of his neck while looking at your friend timidly made your skin crawl. Why was he acting so shy and flustered? It had to be a tactic of his. He wanted Youngjae to go along with it and the only way he knew he could get him to leave was by acting kind towards him. You wanted to laugh in hysterics—was he really acting like he was innocent and had pure intentions with wanting to speak with you? Who the hell was this man and what did he do to the cocky prick who wasted almost five months of your life for his selfish needs? Youngjae looked at you to see how you were reacting to their conversation and he frowned when he saw you furrow your brows at him before turning to Mark and groaning. 

“Why are you asking him? You act as if I want to talk to you. New flash asshole, I have nothing to say to you nor do I want to hear you out so if you know what’s best for you, you’d go back to your table of friends who I’m sure is having a hard time processing your presence at our table right now.” 

If looks could kill, Youngjae was sure Mark would be six feet under right now. You were sending daggers to the back of Mark’s head and if you weren’t in the middle of the cafeteria, Youngjae knew you would probably do something to inflict any kind of pain on him. 

“Y/n, you and I both know we have unfinished business to go over and unless you want everyone in this cafeteria to know what I want to say, then I suggest you and I go somewhere else—“

“I’m sorry y/n—I forgot, I actually have to go meet one of my professors to talk about my grade. I’ll call you later. Bye!” 

It was your turn to widen your eyes in surprise. How dare he leave you knowing that you wanted nothing to do with Mark. What kind of friend was he? He might have not known about your dalliance with the junior fuckboy, but couldn’t he tell by your body language that you were uncomfortable and seething with anger? After he grabbed his books and gave you a gentle wave, he made his way outside—leaving you alone with the devil himself. 

You didn’t allow Youngjae’s decision to succumb to Mark’s request affect the way that you were going to go about things. Just because the two of you were alone now didn’t mean anything; you meant what you said when you told him you had no intention of listening to what he was seemingly dying to tell you. You started to collect your things—not batting an eye at him while putting all your trash in a paper bag. 

“Come on y/n, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you for weeks now. You’ve been avoiding me. Do my efforts of trying to fix things mean nothing to you—“

“Don’t start that shit with me. I’m surprised you’re even talking to me right now in front of all these students—in front of your fuckboy friends. Effort to fix what Mark? There’s nothing for you to fix. What you and I had is over, why are you even trying anymore? It’s obvious that I was just a convenient fuck to you and it took me weeks to come to accept this, but I deserve so much better than you. Give up already—“ 

Seeing a tear fall from the brim of his eyelids was the last thing you expected to see, but watching Mark cry wasn’t foreign territory to you. The older boy was a very emotional and over-sensitive person. It was a trait of his that you’ve grown fond over—not a lot of men were comfortable enough to show their fragile side to just anyone, but Mark wasn’t afraid to find solace in you whenever he had a problem or needed to let out some pent up anger. Whenever he would vent to you about school, work or even family problems, you’d feel pretty special knowing that you were probably one of the few people if not the only person he would confess all of his doubts, worries and insecurities to you. 

It felt really good knowing that he trusted you but it only confused you so much more. You wouldn’t tell somebody you considered a casual hookup all of your biggest fears or the dreams you had for after you were to graduate would you? Mark seemed to have no problem admitting all this information to you—he was an open book when the two of you were alone. You could confidently say you knew every single thing about the older boy and it was a bittersweet feeling. You were shocked to see him showing any kind of emotion in the public—especially because of you. 

Deep down, you could tell it took a lot of courage for him to do something completely out of his comfort zone. It had to mean something right? Thinking about how he hurt you, how he broke your trust on top of breaking your heart and ruining your entire aspect on love and relationships, you wanted to continue giving him the cold shoulder—but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be so hostile. Humiliating him in front of all these people who admired him and thought he was the coolest person on campus would definitely feel rewarding. However, that wasn’t who you were—you wanted nothing more than to break him the way he did so easily to you, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself knowing that you turned in to somewhat of a monster just to get back at him. You knew better than that. 

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea, I’m already seeing someone else. Unlike you, I care if my actions hurt others and I don’t think he’d be all too happy if he found out I went to go talk to you somewhere private. If all you’re looking for is forgiveness, then we can talk right here. But knowing you, there’s a possibility you want something out of our conversation. So apologize and leave before I scream.” 

You should have known Mark’s moment of sadness wasn’t going to last long. As soon as the last sentence came out, he gave you a mischievous smirk—it didn’t take a genius to know what his next few words were going to be nor could you say you were shocked. You’ve known Mark for long enough to have an idea how he was going to respond. 

“You and I both know I wouldn’t mind that at all. Don’t lie, you love it when I make you scream—“

You released an irritated sigh before roughly picking up your bag and the rest of your items. “That’s it, you lost your chance, I’m leaving.” 

With all the energy you had left from how exhausting this entire day had been, you stormed out of the cafeteria and began walking—to where, you had no idea. All you could think about was getting as far away from Mark as you possibly could. Every minute he stayed in your presence only annoyed you yet excited you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he was still following behind you. 

If he claimed that he really needed to explain himself, then he shouldn’t quit while he was still ahead. But why were you allowing this? What you told him about having a new man in your life was the truth. You didn’t want to be that girl. The one who jumped in to a relationship right after she had her heart broken. Although you couldn’t care less about what people said about you, you didn’t want anyone to look at you as desperate or easy. It wasn’t as if you just started dating the first person you saw—you had a thing for Jinyoung for quite some time now. Even before you and Mark began your fling. However, neither of you said anything about liking one another. 

You had a hunch that he might have felt something for you by the way you would catch him staring at you every now and then in biology and with how he would always greet you every morning although you weren’t very familiar with each other. Jinyoung was extremely intelligent; he had one of the highest grades in the class, he was also gentle, soft-spoken and very easy on the eyes. In fact, he and Mark probably had to be the two most good looking men you have ever laid your eyes on. But Jinyoung was genuinely nice to you. He made it known that he cared about you and had nothing but good intentions. He adored you and admired you in the way you could only dream of Mark doing for you. 

No matter how much Jinyoung treated you like the most fragile piece of glass—the most delicate flower and even if he put you on this high pedestal only two weeks after you started going out, you couldn’t stop wanting it to be Mark in his place. Hearing loud footsteps behind you only heightened your desire to get as far away from him as you possibly could. At this point—you were genuinely afraid of giving him what he wanted. You were afraid of doing something you would ultimately regret later. Mark just had that power over you—you could try your best to move on from him and force yourself to return Jinyoung’s feelings that he never failed to remind you he held, but you couldn’t do it. Not when Mark took up the entirety of your thought process; your heart, mind, body, spirit and soul belonged to him. 

The sudden tight grip on your wrist startled you, but you didn’t flinch. You knew exactly who it was and you surprised both yourself and Mark when you allowed him to pull you towards where you knew he was taking you. There was no point in fighting him off—you didn’t want to stir up any attention from passerby’s. When he realized you gave up on trying to leave, he loosened his grip and his tugging wasn’t as rough. The two of you stayed in silence as he led you to a very familiar area—one that was dangerous territory for you. You should be trying harder to escape from his hold; especially because you were well aware once the two of you were to enter the room he was taking you to, there was a chance you would give in to him and end up ruining the relationship that was building between you and Jinyoung. 

Once you both made it to the janitor’s closet, he pulled out a key and opened it, allowing you to go inside before trailing right behind you. Till this day you were still confused as to how he had access to this room, but you weren’t surprised. Being who he was, you were sure he had many connections all over campus. You took in a deep breath while your eyes wandered all throughout the room—it was small, about the size of a closet and there was multiple cleaning supplies on the ground and on shelves. There was also a table in the center—one that you’ve been pressed up against for more times that you could count on your fingers. 

Mark told you that no janitor ever used that closet and so the two of you made it your little secret hideaway where you would help each other destress from a long day of classes. Images of him ramming himself inside of you, pressing you in to the table as he ate you out like a wild animal would with their prey and going down on your knees to suck him dry were now filling your mind. It was in that moment that you began to feel remorseful. You had such a wonderful man who treated you in ways you didn’t even feel like you deserved. 

You’ve wanted him for such a long time—so why were you putting your relationship on the line for the pitiful man standing in front of you who only used you to soothe his carnal urges? You refused to face him; you were afraid of what might happen if you did turn around to see the expression he was wearing. The silence that was filling the room was suffocating. He was the one who said that he wanted to talk, yet no words were coming out of his mouth. It didn’t take long for questions to pop up in your mind—you might not have wanted to talk to him in the beginning but now you were filled with curiosity. 

“You brought me here for a reason. I don’t plan on staying long, so hurry up and say what you want to say.”

“All I need is five minutes—“

“That’s not surprising—it’s obviously a time limit you’re used to.” 

You chuckled softly to yourself at your comment. Sometimes when you’d give him head, he’d end up releasing his load on to your mouth in less than five minutes. It wasn’t something he was proud of, but it did at fuel to your confidence—you were just that good. You wouldn’t be taken back if you were to hear that your blowjobs were the reason why he came running back to you. The growl that came from the back of his throat sent chills down your spine—he may have never said it out loud to protect his reputation, but Mark was a very jealous person. 

Anytime you would bring up another guy in conversation, whether it was a friend from high school or one of your coworkers, he’d grow silent and touchier. He’d also go rougher on you in bed—one time he got so jealous he ended up breaking his headboard because his pace was relentless. That thought alone sent a warm pool between your thighs. Your body was reacting to his presence and the many memories of being one with him and it only made you want to leave without hearing him out. 

“I’m sorry.” Y

ou scoffed at his apology—he sounded so insincere. Like a child who was only apologizing to someone because their mother told them to. What was the point of giving you an apology if he didn’t mean it? You turned around to look at him and lifted your brows in disbelief. He didn’t allow you to respond—he must have known you were going to give him a sarcastic comment and knowing him, he didn’t like it whenever you interrupted him in a confronting time like this. 

“I know, my sorries probably mean jack shit to you but I am genuinely so fucking sorry. When you left that night, I wanted to go after you so badly but I didn’t want to make you even more mad. I didn’t have a clue as to why you grew so upset all of a sudden. We were having such a good time—both so close to our highs, but then you just stopped out of nowhere and began to tear up before taking your things and leaving. I want to know why—why did you leave? What bothered you so badly that you felt like you had to leave and start over with someone new? What did I do y/n—“ 

You didn’t mean to laugh, but it was your defense mechanism. Did he really have no clue as to why you no verbally ended your affair or was he just acting dumb on purpose? 

“You’re kidding right? You can’t be serious. That’s a fucking joke. You know exactly what you did Mark. Don’t play the fucking victim—“

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! That’s why I’m asking—“

“YOU FUCKED ANOTHER WOMAN MARK. DO YOU THINK I’M STUPID? DO YOU THINK I WAS BORN YESTERDAY? When you were in the bathroom, I went to grab something from your drawer and I found a thong that obviously does not belong to me. Care to explain that? I stayed up for the rest of that week thinking about how you were fucking someone else while you were fucking me. I know I have no right to tell you how to live your life, but I’m involved Mark. We promised we’d only sleep around with one another. You’re the one that said we had to tell each other if we wanted to start seeing other people but you didn’t say shit Mark. What? Did you get tired of being monogamous? One pussy wasn’t enough for you huh? Had to keep up with the body count of your other jerk ass friends? You didn’t want them finding out that you were fucking with the same girl for months—you didn’t want to look pathetic in their eyes if they found out you weren’t this big macho man everything thinks you are. So what is it Mark? Is this some kind of game to you? Am I just a fucking toy to you? You know I’d do anything for you and that I’d allow you to do whatever you want to as long as you’re in my bed at the end of the day. It doesn’t fucking work like that—“

“I FELL IN LOVE WITH YOU DAMNIT. I don’t know why I didn’t tell you this the moment I came to terms with my feelings for you, but I did. Fuck, that’s an understand. I’m so fucking in love with you. I’m well aware you probably don’t believe me, but I love you y/n and if I had the choice, I’d go back in time and change the way things turned out. God I want nothing more than to fix us. I miss you so much—there aren’t even enough words in the English dictionary for me to describe how empty and lost I felt without you. I couldn’t even fathom what you meant to me and how much I needed you in my life until you were no longer in it.” He loved you? There was no way. Mark Tuan wasn’t capable of loving someone other than himself. He definitely did not love you. 

“Does it not bother you how good you are at lying? You should try and take acting classes. You almost had me fooled. You? In love? Don’t make me laugh. You wouldn’t know what love was even if it punched you in the face. You don’t love me. You love my body. You love the way I feel—you love how your dick feels inside of me. You love how I am willing to experiment during sex just to please you. You love knowing that you can control me the way you do. So get that stupid thought out of your head. If you genuinely loved me—you would have never fucked another woman. The thought of hurting me would have killed you. What? Was I at work or in school and you couldn’t wait two hours do get your dick wet? Did you think I would be okay with you sleeping with someone else and entering me knowing that your cock was buried in another woman’s cunt? I’m not like all the other girls who would let you hookup with someone else if it meant having you in any way possible. That’s not who I am Mark. I love and respect myself too much to let an asshole like you do such a thing to me.” 

Tears began to brim at his eyelids again, but you weren’t going to fall for it. He did you wrong—he had no right to try and get you to feel sorry for him. Did he really think that confessing his love for you was going to get you to leave Jinyoung in order to be with him again? If that was the case, he had another thing coming for him. 

“She was a mistake. A huge mistake. I was drunk—I know—don’t look at me like that, I’m not using it as an excuse. I’m just telling you. I didn’t even realize what was going on—I was that cross faded. Hell, I don’t even have any idea how we got back to my apartment nor do I remember meeting her. If I’m being honest with you, I don’t remember what she looks like nor did I even learn her name. Trust me, I felt so fucking mad at myself when I woke up next to her and I didn’t even care if I was rude, I kicked her out once I came to my senses. That’s why I stayed away from you for three days that one week back in May. I didn’t have any final to study for—that was a lie. But I couldn’t look at you without feeling guilty. I hated myself for what I did. You and I weren’t dating, but I felt as if I cheated on you which in hindsight, I kind of did. I was already in love with you at that point—hell, I began falling for you only three weeks after we started hooking up. You’re right. I do love your body. Your body is a wonderland and I lose my damn mind every time I get to love on you. But I love you for more than just your body. I love you for your mind—your deeply intelligent and witty mind. I love you for your kindness, your patience, generosity, your determination and passion towards the things that you love. I love the person you’ve changed me into and I love who I am when I’m with you. I love the way you never fail to make me laugh and smile. I love the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” 

He began to walk toward you but you were too busy soaking up each and every single word he was emitting. You didn’t realize just how close he was in proximity until he brushed some of your hair back behind your ear. 

“I love waking up to you in the morning and going to bed with you in my arms. I love watching your many attempts at trying out a recipe you found online and ultimately failing because you added either too much salt and pepper or not enough. I love how happy you make me and how safe I feel when I’m with you. You make me want to be a better version of myself so that I can be good enough for you. Sure, the sex is so amazing—it’s breathtaking—mind blowing. Sex with you is a wonderful experience, but I’m not sticking around just to fuck you. I was hooking up with all these different girls before I met you and none of them meant anything to me. You on the other hand mean the entire world and more to me. Don’t even get me started on how fucking beautiful you are. I can never find it in myself to tear my eyes away from you—you’re so captivating you know that? I could stare at you all day—well, I can do a lot of things with you for the entire day—but you are both so beautiful on the inside and out y/n. I think this is the part where I tell you why I got so drunk and high that night.” 

He released a frustrated sigh before bringing his head between his hands. You were still so lost—his confession was bringing you to the edge of insanity. Each word tugged harshly on your heartstrings and you began to absorb everything he was admitting so freely. Deep down, you knew he wasn’t lying and that’s what you were afraid of. 

“Jackson’s dumb ass brought you up in a conversation when we began to play beer pong. I didn’t even know that he knew of your existence, but then he began to talk about you so provocatively and in such a degrading way. He talked about how sexy he though you were and how he wanted to fuck you. That was the first time I’ve ever felt so angry to the point where I was afraid that blood was going to be shed. I could feel my hand that was gripping on the ping pong ready to fling the damn thing at his face. Not only did I hate how he talked about you and described his many desires of what he wanted to do to you—but our other friends chimed in about which one of them would be the lucky guy who got to sleep with you like it was a fucking challenge. They might be my friends, yet I was seconds away from giving them all black eyes—but I didn’t want them to know about us. So I just kept drinking and I went up to one of the rooms some football players were smoking weed in and I took five hits. I was also having a hard time accepting that I loved you—“

“Why? What was so hard about coming to the acceptance that you were in love with me? Did you realize that there are a lot more other girls out there and you wanted to keep your options open? Or did you notice that I didn’t fit in with your friends and you were afraid that they wouldn’t be as accepting of me? Why didn’t you just tell me the truth?”

“I was scared. I told you all about my parents—how I believed that they had a love for the ages and that they were going to be together for the rest of their lives. But I was too young to notice that they were actually going through a really rough time. I found out that they weren’t happy in their marriage when I was seventeen years old and that they were only staying together for my siblings and I. My dad—he actually began having an affair with one of his coworkers, but could it really be considered an affair when my parents were no longer theoretically together? They finally got a divorce a little over two years ago and I mean—they’re happier I guess. But my siblings and I—it still bothers us. Like, we’re still so affected by their separation and it’s been years. I vowed to myself that I would never fall in love with anyone. I didn’t want to experience the heartbreak that came with falling out of love. I didn’t want to give myself—my whole self to someone, fall in love with them, do all these romantic and domestics things with them, get used to having them around and always wanting to be with them only for shit to hit the fan and end up hating that person or being hated by that person. Then you came in to my life—someone who I would have never thought would mean this much to me. But you do. You always will. I don’t remember exactly when I started to love you—but I don’t regret it at all—and I’m not scared anymore. I was fucking devastated when you left—I knew it was over and it was the most painful and gut wrenching feeling I have ever felt in my entire life.” 

The more he talked, the more you began to wish he would stop or that he didn’t even open his mouth in the first place. You remembered the night where the two of you were lying down in bed, watching tv and then he got a call from his dad. He excused himself for a few minutes—leaving you alone with a strange legend episode of unsolved mysteries. It wasn’t that you wanted to eavesdrop, but you could hear his voice raise from the other room. Whatever he was talking about with his dad must have really struck a nerve with him because he was in tears when he came back to you. Instead of returning back to the show or taking his leave—he fell apart in to your arms and told you everything. 

He bared his entire soul to you and you found yourself crying at how broken he was and how distraught his conversation with his father left him. From that night on, you made a vow to yourself to make sure he was always happy whenever he was with you. You didn’t want to be a reason behind his sadness—even if he was the sole reason of yours. 

“You should have known I would never have done anything to hurt you Mark. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on to my feelings seeing as how open I was with them. It’s like I had “I love you Mark Tuan” written on my fucking forehead like a pathetic idiot. I sacrificed so many things for you, I had to keep us a secret because that’s what you asked for but it made me feel like you were ashamed of me. I don’t believe in being friends with benefits—whoever thought that shit up needs a slap in the face. Friends could never just have sex—one always falls in love and that’s the same one who gets their heart broken. Me. Every time you would glance at me in the hallway and look away as if you had no idea who I was—it fucking sucked Mark. What person in their right minds would allow someone to do this to them? I only do relationships—I’m an exclusive type of person but I pushed away all my beliefs just to be with you. I loved you Mark Tuan. More than I have ever loved anyone else—more than I loved myself and it scared me, but I didn’t run away. I didn’t go and fuck someone else because I was afraid of feelings. I could never do that to you. I don’t give a shit that you were high and don’t remember a thing—you still did it and it still haunts me to this day. I’m sorry—I really don’t know what to tell you. I’m sorry about your parents and I’m sorry that their divorce is affecting the way you look at your love life—but why do I have to be punished? Why is my heart on the line for something that doesn’t involve me? It’s not fair Mark.” 

His hands were gentle against both sides of your cheeks. He bore his eyes in to yours—but you refused to make eye contact. Your vision was blurry; filled with tears and sadness. Sadness because he hurt you—but also because you were now accepting that you were still so madly in love with the man in front of you. You absentmindedly leaned against his palm but continued to keep your gaze away from him. 

“Y/n—I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. I really am so sorry. If I knew then what I knew now, then I would have never let you go. I would have told you that you are the sole purpose of my existence. You’re the reason why I wake up every morning with the biggest smile on my face. I never thought I was capable of experiencing love—loving someone and being in love but now—that’s all I want—with you and only you. I can’t take back what I did, but I can spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’re the one for me and that I would go to the depths of hell and back just to be the lucky man who gets to love you. Tell me you don’t love me anymore. Tell me that it’s too late and that your heart is no longer mine. Tell me that you want nothing to do with me and that Jinyoung is the one that you want. Just say the word and I’ll let you go—no matter how badly I don’t want to.” 

You took in a few deep breaths and bit down on your bottom lip in frustration. You began to weigh out your choices—you had such a wonderful man somewhere on this campus; probably wondering where you were. He was willing to give you his heart on a tray like it was the easiest thing to do. But then, there was the man in front of you. The man you loved with every fiber of your being. Every beat of your heart. He might have made a mistake, but he was obviously paying for it and if he was willing to give up his pride and his ego to confess how sorry he was and how he loved you like he’s never loved anyone before—then you had to trust that he would follow his word and take care of you the way he promised he would right? 

“Did you suffer without me?” He looked at you and nodded profusely. 

“Every fucking day. I took a few days off from work and school because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was trying to look for you everywhere but you kept dodging me.” You brought one hand up in to his hair—running your fingers through his brown locks and cupping the back of his neck with the other hand. 

“You love me?”

“Yes. God—I can’t seem to do anything but love you. All I ever want to do is love you.”

Feeling him smile in to the kiss did wonders to your heart. He smashed his lips against yours—not giving you any chance to breathe as he roughly molded his mouth with yours; sucking and nipping on your lips, running his tongue lustfully against yours. You’ve missed this. It’s been so long—being away from him. Being held by him. You knew that no matter how much you deserved better, Mark Tuan was your person. Being there with him felt like coming home after a long day and it was such a good feeling. One you could get used to now that you knew where his heart lies. He sat you up on the table and gently pushed you down before attacking your face, jaw and neck with many wet kisses. However, to his dismay, you lifted him off of you and brought his face in between your hands and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“Then I’m yours.”

[brittledame]

Pairing: Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader

Warnings: Explicit, Cursing, Hair-pulling, Name-Calling, Hate Sex, Spanking, Slight degradation, Panty stealing, Table sex

Word Count: 7.6K

Summary: A school project brings together two academic rivals, where their dislike for one another reaches a whole new level. You and Shirabu constantly duke it out for the top grade, where it becomes an everyday occurrence to see the two scowling at and insulting one another. The tension between you two finally reaches a boiling point one afternoon when an argument breaks out.

Series: Part 1 of 3 (Part 2 & Part 3)

Shiratorizawa was a private school full to the brim of prestige and practically screams ‘money’. Inside of the sleek modern exterior, each extracurricular club ranging from calligraphy to kyūdō possessed state-of-the-art facilities. Basically, you name it and there was most likely already a club for it, with each one allocated a ridiculous amount of funding. It did help that a lot of old and new money sent their kids to the school, which unfortunately leads to uppity pricks with uptight attitudes flaunting their wealth at the drop of a hat festering the hallways.

One such uppity prick went by the name of Shirabu Kenjirou and he was the bane of your existence. He came from an affluent background, old money resulting from smart trades in property stock way back before the global telecommunications were even conceptualised. You could smell the money oozing from his pores in the form of some ridiculously over-priced Giorgio Armani cologne, topped off with his neatly pressed uniform and copper-toned hair perfectly sleek.

The part that pissed you off the most about the male, and has led to your open dislike for the asshole, was the fact that he got into Shiratorizawa solely by his phenomenal grades, never once relying on daddy’s money to get in, like most of your cohort. Meanwhile, you made every single second count when studying, not a moment wasted between school and sleep, just to hope to qualify for the academic scholarship. For a while your parents fretted that you were studying too much just to pass some school’s entrance exams, where their platitudes of ‘you’re already plenty intelligent enough, honey’ and ‘you could ace it this very moment’ weren’t enough to soothe your stressed mind.

Not even three months later, you sat the exam and low and behold, you did ace it, much to your amazement. It was a beautiful moment, witnessing your name on their admittance board not even a month later, tears of relief gathering in your eyes. The only thing that ruined your moment was the name that ranked just above yours, taking in first place: Shirabu Kenjirou. So, your well-known rivalry with the copper-tinged blonde asshole started one-sided and quickly evolved into something much greater than you could’ve ever imagined.

For both your first and second year, you shared the same class as Shirabu. It was to be expected since you were both in the same grade average bracket, but still a girl could dream, right? Much to your ever-growing annoyance you were placed in the same third year class as well. Evidently you were unable to escape his prickly attitude.

Every task, assignment and exam became a silent challenge between the two of you. Each and every time, you’d throw yourself into your studies just to wipe the smug look he gives you every time he pulls through with the top mark.

The worst part of all this was the fact that he consistently pulled high marks while balancing a sport on top of his studies. You’d have to give it to him, you honestly don’t know when he manages to fit in eating and sleeping in that hectic schedule of his.

Now to place two head-strong individuals together was just begging for trouble, especially when your little competition has reached infamy around the sprawling campus. Turn out trouble is exactly what your science teacher was looking for when she placed the two of you together for the physic unit’s partner research report about their topic of choice. You looked at her like she’d lost her goddamn mind, not sparing the equally shocked Shirabu a glance. You didn’t even bother to argue with her, knowing it would’ve ended up worse somehow if you did.

“Fuck.” You muttered, hoping four the next six weeks to pass quickly

As soon as the Ms. Nakamura dismissed the class, you marched over to his desk. Stopping directly in front of him, you perched your hands on your hips and gave him a disdainful look.

“Look, for the course of this project I am willing to be civil with you.” You place a genial hand over your chest to complete your saintly sacrifice. Looking up, Shirabu gives you a blank look, before returning to annotating his textbook with bright sticky notes.

‘What a fucking dick,’ You silently seethe.

“Whatever. Just pick a topic and I’ll start on it.” His monotone voice serves to piss you off more. You curl your hands into tight fists, resisting the glorious thought of punching his pretty face.

“Um, I think not. We’ll pick the topic out together and we’ll equally distribute the work. I don’t want to hear you bitching to your hot teammates that I’m slacking.”

Grabbing a vacant chair near his desk, you spin it around and sit on it backwards, ignoring his disgruntled look. Tapping on your phone, you open a new contact and start filling it out.

“What’s your number, dickhead?” Shirabu’s head shot up at the insult and you grin at him, shaking your phone in front of his face.

“None of your fucking business, bitch.” He bites out, forehead creasing as he glares at you, completing his signature expression.

“Well, asshole, if you somehow managed to forget already, let me remind you. We need to collaborate on this and to do that, we need a line of communication. Texting is the easiest option.” You reason. You weren’t fond of the idea of Shirabu having your number either, the ass will probably write it in the boy’s changeroom as retribution for some misdeed you’ve done.

Deliberating, Shirabu’s pen stops its furious scribbling. Heaving a great sigh, he concludes that unfortunately you were correct, but that didn’t mean he had to explicitly admit that.

Snatching your phone, he ignores your indignant shout as he taps out his phone number and tosses the phone back at you.

“Great, thanks for being a team player, sport.” You say, as you clean the screen off on the bottom of your uniform top.

As you get up and return the chair to its correct place, you trudge over to your desk whilst starting to conjuring up some topic ideas to suggest.

Peeking from under his uneven fringe, Shirabu watches your skirt sway as you walk. He loves it whenever you walk away from him, leaving him to both think in peace and admire the way your hypnotising hips move as you walk. The short purple plaid Shiratorizawa skirt left little to his imagination whenever you bent over, or a strong breeze came through. Shirabu briefly wondered how the hell you evaded the school’s disciplinary committee’s strict uniform coding monitors in the hallway because he’s sure that you’re breaking at least two of them on any given day.

The next day, you texted Shirabu the list of thesis concepts you wrote up. You were surprised when your phone vibrated in your hand, delivering his speedy reply.

Shithead: Sure.

What the fuck were you meant to do with that dry ass reply?

Now angry that he wasn’t taking you seriously, you texted him back to pick a god damn topic before you went over to his practice and caused a scene. And just like that he stopped being obstinate and picked the one you were secretly hoping he would choose; it was the one focusing on Einstein’s thought experiments how his process was adapted into modern-day quantum research.

After a few back and forth texts by that afternoon you had both scheduled a few meetups over the next few weeks for the more challenging components, such as devising a solid thesis and finding some credible academic papers to back-up your statements.

A week later found you waiting in the library, going through your homework as you wait for Shirabu’s team practice to end, hoping to make good use of some of your free time.

By the time Shirabu swept into the room, you had already gotten a good head start in the assignment. Dressed in his neatly pressed uniform and not a hair out of place, you almost suspected that he made up the excuse of volleyball practice to get out of spending anymore time than necessary with you. The asshole breezes past you, not even offering an apology or reason as to why he was late, but you could at least deduct that practice was at fault – that is if he even went.

“Well since you decided to keep me waiting for –“ You glance down at your phone, “forty-five minutes, I already started it. I’ve written both the study’s aim and objective and began devising the outline for what needs to be addressed in the introduction.” You say shortly, not waiting for him to seat himself and set up before you push your laptop across the desk and into his personal space.

Shirabu rolls his eyes at your accusing tone and started to read what you’ve written up in the shared word document. Kenjirou was mildly impressed at how much you accomplished in such a short amount of time, but he tried not to show that outwardly though, afraid your already inflated ego would grow. Grunting in agreement, Shirabu slid the laptop back over to you.

“That’s fine. I’ll start pulling some sources for the statements you outlined and start writing them up. Why don’t you start researching any recent projects detailing new discoveries and start collecting data to include?”

That last part was less of a question and more of a demand, but his usual flat tone made it hard to distinguish between the two. The lack of inflection in his voice could just about put anyone to sleep, and after sitting here for almost an hour in the calming atmosphere of the library, you were ready to start dozing off.

A sharp kick to your shin ripped you out of your thoughts, causing to to yelp and rub at the sore spot. A quick look at Shirabu’s smug face illuminated by his screen was enough to rid the last of your daze, begrudgingly returning to your work.

Two hours had passed, filled by the tap-tapping abuse of your keyboards and the occasional groan released by you at another paywall obstructing an article containing some nice data. Other than that, Shirabu was a quiet as a graveyard. You’d assume he had spontaneously passed away if not for the typing and blinking, the fucker didn’t even look like he was breathing.

What a completely boring guy with a nasty attitude. The most interesting thing about him was his unfortunate fringe, looking like he got mugged in an alleyway by a guy with no fine motor skills wielding a pair of scissors.

Plainly coloured hair, irises almost an identical shade of almost blonde but not quite there. He was of average stature, maybe a little below for the volleyball team. He was completely normal, nothing you would normally give a second glance while passing by, and yet…

You mentally shake away the unwanted thoughts conjured by the sight of his hands, or the slight flexing of his arm under the thin fabric of the uniform shirt.

Dirty little fantasies of Shirabu just snapping one day after one too many insults, throwing you over his lap and just going to town on your ass with the same hand that scored so many serving points for the elite team filled your head incessantly. The force would jostle you forward, tears in your eyes as you beg him – for what you don’t know, but you would beg and he’d wrap his strong hand around your throat, the threat of cutting off your blood flow to your brain was enough to stop your breathless begs.

Wrapped up in your raunchy thoughts, your typing ceases and your eyebrows furrow as you’re faced with the horrible realisation that you actually have feelings other than hate for the up-tight prick. The feelings were far from romantic, more likely resting somewhere between hate and dislike, but it was still the principle of the matter. Acknowledging those feelings alone felt like you ceded your part in a game that you two had unofficially started.

Fuck.

The next few weeks were going to be hell. You internally groaned at the thought.

You had no idea just how right you were, as the next few Friday sessions were almost unbearable for you since that day. After that dreadful meet up, one could slice the tension that brewed between the two of you with their bare hand, even though it was solely emanating from you.

As most horrific diseases start, it was all innocuous at the beginning. The session all started the same: witty quips and digging barbs swapped at the beginning of your sessions before silently coming to the unanimous agreement to not speak another word to one another unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then, you could feel the migraine pulsating threateningly behind your eyes at how effortlessly hot he was. The headache was quite literally the physical manifestation of the vexation you felt towards the irritating copper-haired male.

It turned out that your exasperation was mutual, Kenjirou thought if he had to sit through another session with your loud breathing or deafening clacking of your keyboard, he was going to start ripping out hair. He was at his wit’s end and he had no reason as to why you set him off so easily. Not even the over-exuberant Goshiki could elicit such a nasty comment so quickly from him, even on his worst days.

The tension mounting between you two from previous sessions hung heavy in the air, but neither of you were willing to acknowledge the elephant stampeding through the small and rarely used study room.

The irritating sound of your long, trimmed nails typing, no more like smashing, on your keyboard cut through the tension. It was enough to put Kenjirou on edge faster than any other assignment meet up. He’s had a hell of a week and while he didn’t have grueling practice today, spending it alone with you was the cherry on top.

Usually the silent and calming ambiance of the library never failed to soothe him when he’s tense and anxious, but his irritation was hitting a whole new level he’s never experienced before.

“I swear if you keep smashing at your keyboard like that, I’ll rip them off and shove them up your ass.” He seethes, hands curling into fists where they rested on the table.

Looking up, you give him an incredulous look before opening your mouth. God what Shirabu wouldn’t give to get that stupid mouth of yours to not ever open again. He’d be saving the world from one less idiot spreading their stupidity.

“That’s kinky Shirabu. This is a library, keep it in your pants and save it for the bedroom.” You tease, fluttering your long eyelashes at him paired with a plastic grin.

At the murderous look his gives you, you throw back your head and laugh quietly. You weren’t willing to face the librarian’s wrath if you broke the rules, even if you were situated on the deserted top floor in a room furthest from her station at the entrance.

Conversation stalls from there on out, with only the clacking of your keyboard’s once again filling the air, although you do take greater care when typing now, not that the asshole thanked you for your consideration.

Kenjirou watches you from his periphery as you brush your glossy hair over you your shoulder, ponytail bouncing with added weight. That stupid ass hair style that made Kenjirou want to reach over and yank –

“I know you lost a couple of brain cells playing volleyball but come on, are you really that slow?” You raised your eyebrow at him, glancing at the unfinished excel charts Kenjirou had elected to do.

Giving you an unimpressed look, he chooses not to bite, thinking he’s already wasted enough time acknowledging your existence. Kenjirou hadn’t even noticed you talking to him, he was just that used to tuning you out and hearing your annoying voice as background noise.

“Can you add a trendline to the data, so that the upward trend we mention in the discussion is clearly evident in the chart?” You carefully enunciate each word to him.

Your demeaning tone and slow talking really pissed Shirabu off this time, he clenches his jaw and expels an exasperated breath through his nose.

“I’d appreciate it if you don't address me like that ever again. A trendline on the data we collected is pointless, just a pretty line. If we generated the data ourselves, then maybe, but the studies these numbers are sourced off of don’t even have trendlines.” His reasoning is rock-solid, but he was a prick about it, so you rolled your eyes and moved on to the next section of the paper that needed sorting.

“Fine, I acquiesce. A trendline here would be rather inappropriate.” He scoffs at your formal language. This was coming from the same girl that he heard on many occasions say obscenities so vulgar it’d make a seasoned soldier blush.

Tense silence fills the void between you both. You brushed of the strange sensation of being on edge. It is true that Shirabu seems even more pissy than usual, but you’ve been dealing with his shit for weeks now, you could put up with two more sessions with the unbearable prick. Hopefully.

Focusing back on the shared document open before you, you stare blankly as you try to decipher his nonsense tables. Concerned, you quickly scroll through the rest of the discussion he had begrudgingly volunteered to complete. To your absolute horror, you noticed that your format of your portion of the discussion was utterly incongruous with his formatting.

Well shit.

While grammar mistakes and sentence structure could be tweaked and fixed within a day’s work, it would take you both at least a good day's to make the report’s content flow freely and have a singular format. Thankfully, you guys have the time to fix up his – and maybe some of your – mistakes.

“Could you not?” You say shortly, tacking on a sharp glare aimed at the bane of your existence.

“Could I not what? Use your big girl words.” He bites back, not even trying to hide his annoyance with you anymore.

“Could you please stop fucking up our assignment. I don’t know about you, daddy’s money, but I’d really like to get full marks for this.” You shoot back, angry that he had the gall to be annoyed at you when he was the one fucking up the format of the assignment.

“What the fuck are you talking about? I’m doing everything that we outlined in our past sessions.” Kenjirou fumed. He swears to fucking god, if he has to argue with you over the (lack of) importance of a trend line for this data set again he’s going to scream.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you miss the way his eyes quickly flit down. Kenjirou hates himself for the way his dick twitched at the sight of you inadvertently pressing your breasts together. Licking his lips, he allows you to stew over his words and watches as you reluctantly accept his logic.

It was true, you guys didn’t really decide on a true format in the initial planning phases, it seemed like a far-off issue to worry about at that moment. Well the future is now and that issue was just going to compound by the day if it didn’t get sorted out soon. It didn’t help that you hated editing papers with a passion.

At your silence, he rolled his eyes so hard you were scared they may get stuck – although he deserves at least that much for all the shit he’s given you over the past three years. He turned back to his work and went back to ignoring you.

Oh well, two can play at that game. You didn’t want, nor need, to talk to the prick anyway.

Shifting your restless legs under the table, you accidentally kick Shirabu in the shin, earning you a dirty look. Enjoying the ugly look of his face, you give him a sickly-sweet smile.

“Oops, my bad, Shirabu. I’ll sure to be more cautious next time!” Topping off your act with some obnoxious batting of your eyelashes.

“Do it again and I’ll wipe that look off your face real fast.” He sneered back at you.

Ignoring all common sense, you played with the idea of what exactly he meant by his threat. Most likely nothing sexual and most definitely involving a punch. But that doesn’t stop you from briefly entertaining a short sexual fantasy involving the two of you fucking in his chair.

Damn, these thoughts have been getting more frequent and out-of-hand recently. If they became anymore of an issue, you may just have to see the on-campus therapist about your obvious undiagnosed nymphomania.

True to your nature, you decide to grab the metaphorical bull by the horn to see how hard he bucks. Adjusting your posture again, you lean your elbows on the table as you uncross your legs and again hit his leg stretched out under the table.

You could practically hear Shirabu’s restraint snap, a dark expression taking over his face. He jerks up and out of his chair and proceeds stalks towards you, a dangerous glint in his ochre eyes.

‘Oh shit, I might have actually overdone it this time. He’s going to fucking kill me.’ You were frozen in place, not even breathing as he towers over your seated form. You mentally said your goodbye’s to family and friends. They wouldn’t be shocked to find out that you met your end due to pure pettiness.

You were expecting at least a slap, maybe even a gut punch, so when he grabbed your arms and hoisted you onto your feet, you assumed the absolute worst. Unexpectedly, he backed your body against the table, his hips pinning yours against the hard edge, making it dig harshly into your back.

You gasp as a calloused hand grabs the back of your exposed neck, the other moving to your waist. He pulls himself incredibly close to you. You're sure there isn’t an atom of space left between the two of you now, feeling every inch of his body pressed up against yours.

He bends down and breathes softly into your ear words that set off a blaze within you.

“I warned you not to try me today and yet you kept on pushing me.” His low tone sent shivers down your spine.

Hands flat on the table, you shove yourself up against his hard chest even more, meeting his dark expression head-on.

“I figured you were all bark and no bite, so what’s the harm?” Ignoring the sharp edge of his previous words, you kept making digs at him. You already made peace with the fact that you may die at the hands of the unfairly attractive man before you.

Snapping, Shirabu grabs you by your tie, pulling you upwards and meeting your lips in a fierce kiss. It honestly was more teeth than lips, but you’d take whatever he would give you. Lust quickly replaced shock as you reciprocated the kiss, giving back as much as he gave you.

Never one to be one-upped, you both furiously made out against the table. Eventually you reluctantly conceded to him, pulling away gasping for breath to fill your aching lungs. While he didn't look as effected as you, he still panted as he caught his breath.

Lips kiss-swollen from the hard kiss he gave you, he gulped at the mussed up look of your uniform from the short make-out session. The sight alone was enough to spur him back into action. You met his lips half-way, hands flying up to bury themselves into surprisingly soft hair.

The kiss was more than just that, it was a battle of wills. It was another challenge set before you both, another one added to the extensive list of trials. It tested who had the guts to resolve the unresolved sexual tension building between you both.

Fingers digging into your soft flesh, he easily hoisted you up onto the table, slotting himself between the space made between your open legs. The kiss picks up intensity as he throws in a few nips at your bottom lip, while you lightly bite at his tongue invading your mouth.

You gasp at a particularly harsh bite at your bottom lip, drawing back to give the self-satisified male a scowl.

“Oh? Is this the reason why you’ve always been so short with me. It’s cute that you don’t know how to act around your crush.” Your teasing words make the male between your legs tense up.

“I’d rather bite off my own tongue than date you, bitch.” He goes to kiss you again. It was the only thing that got you to shut up, which he very enjoyed.

“Who said anything about dating, dearest? My, my, so you have been thinking of me.” You laughed and gave him a belittling look.

“The only thoughts I’ve had about you involve either shutting you up or fucking you senseless, so make of that what you will.” He grits out between clenched teeth, not willing to give you that inch he threw out to you like a lifeline.

If he was going to go through with this, he at least wanted you to know exactly what he wanted to get out of it. Nothing more, nothing less.

You consider him under hooded eyelids, gaze sweeping up and down his clothed torso. Well at least he wanted the same thing that’s been haunting your waking thoughts for the past month. You weren’t going to look this gift horse in the mouth that's for sure.

“Sure, I mean you could try, but I doubt that you could even a moan out of me.” You said languidly, setting up another challenge. Now all he had to do was pick up the gauntlet.

Words igniting a fire within him, his lips tipped into a lopsided smirk. You had no idea what you just started and he was more than happy to show you the consequences of your bold actions.

“Oh, I assure you, I’m not going to stop until I hear you screaming.”

The room you occupied was situated on the top floor, at the end of a long corridor of empty study rooms exactly like this one. It was highly unlikely that the elderly librarian at the entrance would hear what was about to go down. It was also unlikely any snooping students would come across your study room on the neglected floor.

You fully expected him to pull you into another bruising kiss before fucking you but it seemed that the stupidly hot bastard was just full of surprises today. Instead, he pulled you off the table and turned you to face the chair he had previously occupied. With the hand placed at the nape of your neck, the other moving to your opposite side of your waist, he pushed you down to lie against the cold tabletop. Though definitely not for your benefit, he pushed aside any stray bits of paper out of your way to prevent them from creasing.

You gasp as the pressure he applies onto you forces the breath out of your lungs, pressing you hard against the unforgiving surface. Hands scrabbling for a purchase to help you establish a counter force to push up against him, he bends down and breathes softly into your ear.

“Look at you so pliant for me, I could get used to this.” His smug tone made your blood boil. That bastard was going to milk this situation for all it has and you have no ground to stand on to refute him when you were planning on doing the exact same.

“You know, your nasty attitude destroys that pretty boy stereotype you have going on.” You retort. You weren’t going to take his bullshit laying down – metaphorically speaking.

Fed up with you running your mouth, always talking but never saying anything of substance, he hastily loosens his tie. Without warning, he shoves a bundle of fabric into your mouth, quickly moving his fingers away from teeth that would gladly bite down onto his precious setting tools.

Trying to voice your anger, you squirm in his grasp with muffled nonsensical words leaving your mouth.

Kenjirou marvels at the sight of your stuffed mouth, words finally muted and wide eyes that were angry at his action. If he knew this is all he had to do to get you to shut up for more than two seconds then he’d gladly do it again.

Kenjirou couldn’t help but wonder if your cheeks would also look like that if he’s shoved his dick between your plush pink lips but he saves that thought for another day. After all, he had at least half a year left to put up with your bullshit.

Pressing his hips against your ass, he revels at the feeling of finally having you under him, squirming and all. Deciding not to draw this out anymore than he already has, he smoothly grinds his slowly growing erection into the cleft of your ass obscured by ugly purple plaid.

Unsatisfied with the lack of friction, he flips up your skirt to reveal lacy panties. He thought it was a bit risqué to wear them at school but who was he to complain about the lovely gift.

You gave a muffled shout when he snapped against the waist band against your hip. Tempted, you considered trying to kick him in the shin again somehow in your position. The thought dissolved into nothing as he lightly smacks your ass, causing you to jolt forward more in surprise than in pain.

With the absence of any complaints or irritating whinging, Kenjirou weighed the plump flesh in his hand, grinning to himself when he hears you moan at his curious squeezing. He wondered what other delicious noises you’ll make under him.

Well there was only way to find out.

Winding his hand back, his hand came down with a loud ringing smack, hard enough to leave his hand pleasantly tingling. The pink imprint of his hand on your ass was going to be burned into his mind for a long time, a wave a heat rolling through him and coalescing in his groin.

Again, you jolt forward at the impact, nails scratching at the acrylic lacquer of the tabletop, unable to find purchase. While you could feel the poor skin pulse dully with pain, pure arousal flashed hot and bright within you. If you had ever thought spanking would be something you were into, you’re pretty sure Shirabu was one of the worst people to discover along with, always the one to abuse any situation.

The next time his hand came down on your ass, you mistakenly tensed, causing the pain to shoot through you ten-fold. You wince at the sensation of him hitting the exact same spot over and over again. You were sure the spot would be rouge red by this point, but the pain didn’t take away from the pleasure you derived from his rough treatment.

Mixing things up, Kenjirou bites his lip as he aims a smack right at the apex of your thighs, close enough to your core that the vibrations of the hit ripped a lewd moan from your lips, much louder than the rest. Blood rushing down to his already engorged cock at your noises, he knows that he could easily get addicted to your bent form. You enjoying the spanking was just a fun bonus for him.

“I should’ve guessed you were into spanking. It fits the ‘good school girl’ façade you’ve got going on,” Shirabu hums, throwing the words back into your face. Leaning down, he breathes into your ear, “I could really get used to you like this beneath me. I have such big plans for you.”

Shivering at his low tone, your mind whirled chaotically with half-baked ideas of what exactly he had in plan for you. Honestly, as long as it ended up with his dick inside of you, you don’t care about the rest. You were always opposed to the saying ‘It’s not the destination, it’s all about the journey.’ And this situation was no different to you.

Kenjirou slides your panties over your ass and down your legs, half tempted to chuck them across the room just to see you panicking over locating them after this. On second thought… He shoves the offending piece of lace into his back pocket, as a present for himself putting up with you.

His hands bracket you bottoms of your ass and smooths his thumbs over the soft pink flesh. Kenjirou watching them slightly jiggle in the palms of his hand, admiring the rosy tinge he painted them. Kenjirou firmly decided that the flesh looked much prettier painted pink by the very hand that slammed balls over the side of the net with shocking force.

Fingers gliding over the cheeks and trailing downward, he makes contact with your wet lips. Mildly surprised, he runs a slender finer between them, gathering your juices.

“Look at how wet you are for me. I bet I won't even have to prep you, your greedy hole will probably just suck me in.” He states, rubbing his finger slowly -torturously - over the entrance of your hole.

You whine through your makeshift gag and buck your hips against his fingertips, hoping for them to dip in deeper. The pad of his crooked index finger dipped shallowly into you a few times from your efforts. Kenjirou was greatly amused at your efforts, deciding to hold his fingers in place for you to try and fail to fuck into yourself.

“Look at how desperate you are, it’s honestly pathetic. I expected so much more from you.” He tutted.

The flash of anger fizzled and died before it took root, much too distracted by him inserting his entire index finger in without warning. While you had explored yourself on more than a few occasions, mapping out sensitive flesh with your fingers, the feeling of his much longer and slightly thicker finger inside of you was incredible.

You whimper at the slick feeling of him moving his finger in and out of you, occasionally curling against the spongy tissue, seeking for the bundle of nerves that will make you scream. Slotting in another finger and him twisting them simultaneously had you panting and clenching your eyes at the full feeling from just the two.

Feeling your walls tighten and quiver around his finger as he crooked them a few times, he doubled down to find your erogenous zone before he fucks you. It only took another finger and few moments of scissoring them deep inside of you, indicated by your abrupt gasping jerk.

Licking his lips, he rubs his fingers harshly against the soft area, committing to memory the muffled breathy moans and whimpers that dropped from your panting mouth. Dick twitching, hard and painful within his tight slacks draws him out of his mind. He withdraws his saturated fingers from your sopping hole, briefly abandoning the sensitive spot for now.

Slumping, you simultaneously miss and despise his fingers fucking into you, hating that he found your G-spot quicker than you’d anticipated. The prick was too smart for his own good, the asshole probably knew more about female anatomy and orgasms than you did with biology being his best class.

The rustle of his pants being undone pulls you back to reality. Oh god this is really happening. Your breath picks up, anticipating the next move the bitter setter will make next.

The sensation of something long, hot and rigid, his dick you assumed, rests between your still stinging cheeks. His fingers dip back between your lips and gather more liquid arousal. Kenjirou ignores your groan at the odd feeling, preoccupied with smearing your slick over his dick, taking his sweet time.

One hand on his cock, guiding the tip to sit at your entrance, with the other placed for support on your hip. Tense, you waited for him to just slam on in, not anticipating him to draw out the moment. You hated the way that you squirmed at the thought of his dick being so close but so far away from where you wanted it most.

“You better hold onto the desk. Once I start, I’m not going to stop until I hear you screaming.” He said, smug tone and all ringing loud and clear.

You huff indignantly at his statement, as if to say: ‘Sure, whatever you say, asshole.’

Rolling his eyes, he tightens his grip as he starts to insert himself inside of you. Obviously taking pity on you, he graciously chooses to glide in at a decent pace. The breath was punched out of your lungs as he completely sheathed himself inside you, hot and throbbing. You try not to violently shiver around him because you couldn’t bare the thought of inflating his already unhealthily enlarged ego.

Dropping the niceties, as if there were any with Shirabu involved, he slid out not a moment later and slammed back on in, loving the sound of his skin smacking against yours. Sloppy sounds of your fucking fill the air and frankly you’d be pretty grossed right now if your brain didn’t reside in your pussy that very moment.

Fucking you from behind, Kenjirou grabs a fistful of shiny hair and harshly rips back your head, hot breath cascading over perspiring skin.

“You take me so well, like you were made for me. Maybe I should fuck this hole of yours again sometime.”

In retribution, you clench down as hard as feasibly possible, hoping to knock him off of that high horse of his. The grunt that rings in your ears pacifies your ire, but the unexpected resistance doesn't stop him from trying to fuck up into you even harder.

Pardoning his attitude, you loosen up for him, more so for your own pleasure than his. He doesn’t hesitate to pick up his unforgiving pace, pumping in and out of you like a sex-crazed mad-man. Eyes rolling into your head, you felt the tip of his thick dick kiss the entrance of your cervix, which paired fantastically with the friction his thick cock made against your quivering walls.

Moaning around the tie as he furiously fucks you from behind, you can feel the piece of fabric become saturated with your drool. He seemed to appreciate the sounds you made, hands tightening around your hips and starts to seek out the highly sensitive spot hidden somewhere inside of you.

Every time he slid out, he’d readjust his angle with only the tip still in before slamming back on into, waiting for the moment he found his target. The pain of the table cutting into your stomach is buried underneath the pleasure Kenjirou relentlessly delivered to you.

An idea flashed in Kenjirou’s mind, a cruel one, but not too cruel as revenge for all the shit you’ve put him through. Unknowing of the feral grin on his face, you continued to moan as his dick fills you so perfectly, suddenly jolting when you feel his warm lips against your throat. You let out a squeal and clenched down hard around his length when you feel his teeth bury into the soft skin. Manicured nails scratching small divots into the desk as he sucks the bruise deep into your skin.

You grit your teeth when you feel him release your skin, the spot already feeling sore at the rough treatment. You could tell from the position that it was too high for the uniform’s collar to hide and wearing a scarf in this summer weather was way too suspicious. That motherfucker probably planned that; you silently fume as he smirks against your perspiring flesh.

The worst part though was when all conspiring thoughts of retribution were wiped clean from you mind as your entire nervous system is struck by lightning. You cry out loudly at the sensation, to which Kenjirou huffed under his breath, muttering out a quiet ‘Thank fuck’ that went unacknowledged by you as you tried to recuperate from him hitting your G-spot with the force of a tank.

Kenjirou greedily ate up each cry leaving your lips as he continued to hit the sensitive nerves with deadly precision. The sight of you writhing underneath him was enough payment for the annoyance he’d suffered through at your hands the past month. But it was the feel of your walls clutching at him tightly and your delicious moans that was the true reward for all his patience.

The wet squelching noises of your furious fucking was enough to make you blush, which was hilarious thinking about it. Not even four weeks ago you were ready to jump the table and non-sexually choke him out with your tie – and now he was railing you with his tie as a makeshift gag.

Ah, fate truly was a bitch.

Thrusts becoming frantic, you knew that Kenjirou was nearing his end and you would swear bloody vengeance if he finished and left you high and dry. It turns that promise would be for naught. Shirabu reaches around you with his still slick covered fingers and rubs furiously at your clit, giving it a few good squeezes, rightfully assuming you loved the rough treatment. And that you did, you bucked wildly in his grasp, moans hitting a whole new pitch as you unravel quickly under his dual ministrations.

The arousal that had been sitting hot inside of you, seemed to snap and unleashed upon you an orgasm that had stars sear into your eyelids, eyes clenched tightly as the sensation threatened to drown you in it. What felt like pure electricity coursed through your veins, feeling as if Shirabu’s dick had just sent you to a new dimension, brain liquefying inside of your skull.

Behind you, Kenjirou seizes up as he feels you tighten up considerably around him, delivering him to his peak as well. His pace slows as his hips stutter, unleashing his load within you. Even completely incoherent, you shivered at the feeling of him feeling at you, not able to muster up and ounce of disgust at the feeling. That should’ve been the moment that you knew that you were truly fucked; you were completely wrapped around Shirabu’s long pretty fingers.

Limbs trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you laid there limply as he pulled out. You felt a bead of sweat drop down your brow as you weakly collect yourself together, drawing yourself up on shaky arms. The sensation of thick globules of Shirabu’s cum slipping out of you was enough of a distraction to brush of the intense stare Shirabu aimed at your leaking hole.

Leaning back, Kenjirou fights down the flush on his cheeks from watching his cum slowly dripping out of you, feeling hot under the collar from both the sight and  from the mind-blowing orgasm. Shuffling back, he cleans himself off with a clean tissue in his shirt pocket before tucking himself back into his boxer briefs and pulling up his pants.

Slumped against the table, you felt like a wreck, both inside and out. Dick rearranging your insides aside, you were happy that Shirabu deigned for you to orgasm instead of leaving you a begging mess, which was a very likely move for the bastard.

Your jaw felt sore from how full your mouth was with his tie crammed in. Pulling out the wet article, you tossed it onto the table in his general direction. Kenjirou looks at the crumpled fabric with disgust. Weirdly, he doesn't complain as he gathers some tissues from his bag to wrap the article in until he can get it cleaned.

Choosing not to question his sudden pacified attitude towards you, you pushed yourself up on weak arms. Kenjirou laughs at your struggle, not at all intimidated by your nasty glare.

“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath.

You make quick work of cleaning yourself up too, feeling weirdly exposed bent over and naked from the waist down whilst a fully clothed Shirabu almost looked bored, acting as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out.

Your skirt slides back into place as you stand upright, shortly followed by more of his load trickling out of you. Pinned underneath his burning stare, you refused to give him an inch and fought back the tremble that threatened to overtake your body at the odd sensation.

“Alright, now sit down. Let’s finish this project before I leave and you have to finish fixing up the format by yourself.”

You blink at him. “Really?”

It seems the bastard wouldn’t even let you properly clean up first before diving back into the assignment.

“Really. Now get your lazy ass up, you’re creasing our data sets.”

Not willing to reveal how flustered you were, you downplay your disgust at the feeling his cum drying on your thighs and stiffly walk over to your chair, trying to spy your panties somewhere on the ground, but ultimately found nothing. You could have sworn that Shirabu smirked at your searching looks, but a second glance showed you his normal bored expression.

Sticking your nose up in the air, you start discussing your plan on how to fix the minor issue of formatting. Shirabu gave lackluster nods at your prodding, clearly wanting nothing more than to leave. You did your best to push through the sensation of the sticky mess drying between your legs, internally fretting as to where your panties may lie. You're pretty sure that you'd perish on the spot if a staff member found them.

Thankfully, it took only half an hour before Shirabu beat a hasty retreat, quickly placing all his stuff neatly into his bag and intent on walking out of the room without another word. The fucker wasn’t even going to say goodbye to you.

Shifting in your seat, you start packing up. Eyes wildly darting around, you didn’t notice him pausing in the open doorway.

Glancing over his shoulder, shooting you a dastardly smirk, Kenjirou savours your infuriated expression before turning away and walking off. Slightly confused, you squint as you try to make out an odd-looking lump in his back pocket. At the sight of familiar lace peeking out of his slacks, your eyes widen in shock and indignant rage.

“That bastard.”

Edit: I fixed an incongruity with a bit in the end scene, sorry to anyone that picked it up!!

Notes: We need more Shirabu content so here I am delivering some extremely self-indulgent content. I made Shirabu a dick but I made reader a bitch towards him and he strikes me as the type to hate stuck up people. Hope you all enjoyed!

[missorgana]

and they were roommates

pairing: alex/willie, background julie/luke

fandom: julie and the phantoms

rating: general

word count: 2383

warning: swearing

summary: Luke and Reggie make a bet about who can set up their dumbass, pining friends, Alex and Willie, first. What could possibly go wrong? (everyone lives au, matchmaking friends)

(my 12 days of fanfiction event is back with another willex fic for the gays! thank you to my babe @georgiawarrs for the prompt, really hope you enjoy this 💖 uwuuu. and don’t forget, you can still send me prompts if you haven’t already!)

read on ao3

“So it’s a deal, then.”

“Bring it on, dude. I’m so gonna win.”

“Not in a million years, Reg!”

…

In short, Luke and Reggie’s bet is about who can set up their shy, stubborn best friend Alex with his roommate, who he’s been crushing on for God knows how long, first.

Not as simple as it sounds.

Before you ask, no, this is not something they usually do. Or they’ve ever done before.

But honestly, Luke’s had quite enough of the blonde dancing around Willie, previously mentioned roommate, when he’s voiced his feelings for the other boy to his friends multiple times.

Their friend’s only argument when they bring it up is, “No way he’d ever date me. I’m way out of his league.”

And best friends just can’t let each other talk like that about themselves, can they?

Also, having met Willie a handful of times, it’s clear to Luke, Reggie and their moms, probably, that he’s head over heels about Alex.

Even the time Luke met him alone in the cafeteria, all he talked about was Alex. It’s honestly adorable. 

And annoyingly stupid.

So, the mission’s clear: get the two dumbasses on a date, ASAP. And since Reggie insisted he could do it more effectively than Luke, they decided a bet didn’t hurt, not when they were helping their friend out.

What could possibly go wrong?

…

Reggie’s first move happened to be during the boys’ usual lunch plans, and obviously, Luke ain’t gonna miss it.

Sometimes Julie and Flynn join them, but she texted him they were late for band practice, sadly so. He totally didn’t mope about it. But Reg’s right he’ll see her after class, anyway.

Just, that’s a long time, you know? Flynn’s told them they’re too codependent on each other, but he just thinks she’s joking, truth be told.

Anyway, the boys are currently seated on the grass, giving them a perfect view of the football practice, not that they were into that sort of thing. They had to discuss the next Sunset Curve gig, which is fucking huge, and Luke can’t wait.

Julie’s written another perfect song. All her songs are perfect. Just trust him, okay?

But just as Alex’s phone pings with a text, “Hold on, it’s Willie.”, he casually throws the statement out, and Reggie looks at Luke with a spark in his eyes.

Perfect opportunity, he gotta give him that.

“Y’know, Alex,” he starts, trying painfully hard to not be suspicious, “Why aren’t you having lunch with Willie?”

The blonde discards the phone in his hoodie and blinks at his friends.

“We always have lunch together.” he answers, varily, oh God, Alex almost looks disappointed.

Thankfully, Reggie picks it up just as quick as himself, shaking his head, “I know! I know, just… uh, I mean, you’re roommates. Would be weird if you never spent time with him.”

Then he nods. Winks in Luke’s direction. That boy is the least smooth person he’s ever met.

And Alex frowns, “We did homework together last night.”

Oh, yes, the study dates. Emphasis on study, not dates.

The blonde always seems perpetually nervous when he’s brought them up in the past, which was another reason why Luke was sick of him not making a move. Although, he hasn’t talked about them for a while, surprisingly.

He steps in, Reggie should be thankful, “I just think, Reg too, you could invite him to lunch tomorrow.”

“Really?” Alex asks, looking a mixture of shocked and excited. 

“Yeah, man. Julie eats with us all the time, why not?”

Reggie’s quick to add, “And Flynn!” and Luke nods eagerly in agreement.

And although their friend seems convinced, shyly smiling, picking up the phone again, he still continues the questioning, “Well, they’re in the band.”

Ugh, he’s impossible.

“But they’re also our friends, and-”

“Hey, and my girlfriend!”

“Yes, yes, dude, we know.” Reggie draws out the last syllable and pats his shoulder, “And Luke’s girlfriend. But your friends are our friends, Alex.”

Subtle argument, he likes it. Well, it’s a start.

And the blonde finally shrugs, so he thinks they’ve won him over, “Alright. Thanks guys.”

Good thing he’s texting again, not catching the two boys’ smug eye contact.

Luke knows this is Reggie’s victory, but hey, same end goal, right?

…

Two days later, Luke’s prepared to start his own plan.

In case you’re wondering, Willie was supposed to have lunch with the gang on Tuesday, however, Alex let them know he had to help out his dad and cover a waiter’s shift at the café. The blonde’s disappointment about the situation was obvious.

So it’s Thursday, and when Luke spots Willie on the way to campus, on his skateboard, alone, most importantly, he decided to act quickly.

“Willie!”, it’s hard to yell when he’s running, because, damn, he really should do something to better his shape, at least so he’s not dying after a few minutes of jogging. Luckily, the other boy hears him and slows down.

He chuckles and pats his back, not funny, “Hey, man. You okay there?”

Luke’s totally fine, of course. Just hopes he’s not totally red in the face, is all. If that’s the case, Willie’s got heart enough to not mention it.

“Definitely. Ya mind if I walk with you?”

The shorter boy looks surprised. Fair enough, he supposes, Luke always picks up Julie on the way here normally, but she’s got early classes today, so. A bit rude of the school planning, or whatever, honestly.

Maybe he misses her, which doesn’t make him cheesy, okay? It’s only been two days, but like, even when he has a bad day, when he plays wrong, or his parents argue with him, she smiles at him like it’s all gonna be okay.

Luke can’t think about her without getting sappy, so he’s gotta focus on the mission, for now, and Willie’s nodded in response, casually rolling down the sidewalk so he’ll catch up.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he tries as casually as possible, keep it cool Luke, don’t give away your true motive, “You like Alex, right?”

The other boy jumps down from the rail he used as a ramp, landing with the same surprised face as before. He also does this thing where kicks the skateboard up and catches it under his arm.

It possibly confuses the hell out of Luke, to be honest, then again, one might feel the same about him playing the guitar, or, you know, any skill you don’t have. Too much thinking.

“Of course I do.” the skater tells him simply, and confidently so.

In his mind, he can easily picture himself winning this. Huge applause, cake, the lot.

“Good! I know, but you know, you should totally invite him to one of your skating…” he pauses, because Luke’s honestly sure where he’s going with the sentence, regardless, when nothing else works, freestyle, “Gigs?”

Willie looks at him with a weird expression, then laughs heartily, turning his eyes to the ground. He hopes that’s a good sign.

“Competitions?” the shorter boy helps, to which Luke nods, but the other keeps going, “He’s come by in the park sometimes, but you might have a point with that. You think he’ll like it?”

“Uh, duh.” he says with a click of his tongue, “Not that he’ll admit it, but trust me.”

And although it sounds settled and set in stone, the skater gives him another weird look. Luke brushes it off, because really, getting dating advice from your crushes’ friend is a bit ridiculous. What’s he supposed to do when they’re so stupidly stubborn, though?

“Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

…

Guess what? Luke’s earned himself a point ahead of Reggie, due to the brilliant idea he voiced to Willie last week. Yes, brilliant, obviously!

“We’re in a tie, you know that right?” Reg tells him, which isn’t true at all, because his lunch proposal only half worked, and that’s exactly what he tells his friend.

The boy rolls his eyes. “Not fair”, his ass!

Anyway, Alex was excited going to his crush’s skating show on Friday, and they both consider that a win regardless. The blonde’s raving about it over band practice, well, less the show, more how pretty Willie looked when he tied his hair up in a bun.

Needless to say, they both find their friend adorable, almost can’t contain some self-satisfied smiles. So far, so good.

Their nosy attempts at figuring out if Alex then got himself together and made a move crashed devastatingly, however.

“Couldn’t talk long after, curfew.” he told them, and damn, he looked like a puppy kicked to the curb. 

So goddamn annoying, but alright, this time around it was out of their power.

Luckily, it’s Sunset Curve’s next gig in two days, and Reggie’s got the perfect countermove, Luke’s gonna give it to him. This move being inviting Willie to previously mentioned concert, and since it’s the first round of Battle of the Bands, tension’s high.

Their best friend pales when they announce the exciting news.

“This is a good thing, dude! He’ll love seeing you play!”

“And us- Ow!”

“You deserve it.” Luke simply tells Reggie, crossing his arms.

“Guys!” the blonde interrupts, fiddling with the drumsticks and looking like he just saw a ghost, “I can’t just play knowing Willie’s there! What if I fuck up?”

And so Luke has to shake his head at his dear, overthinking boy. Not that Luke’s haven’t had that consideration before, hell, his mom and dad hearing their tape terrified the shit out of him, but that fear’s getting in the way of the matchmaking.

Besides, those two are meant to be. Seriously, he knows they’re barely halfway in their young lives, all of them, but they’re perfect!

Smiling at each other all the time like idiots. Luke’s got a feeling he does that with Julie, too.

“You won’t,” Reggie interrupts his own train of thought, “You never do, Alex.”

“Besides, he looked thrilled, man! We’ll leave you alone after the show.”

“Promise!” Reg chimes in, and they wink in semi-unison, just to get the point across. It’s almost worrying when Alex sighs, but he shrugs nonetheless.

“If you say so.”

…

So although the gig went fantastic, and Alex and Willie were annoyingly cute but even more so awkward as hell around each other after, Luke’s maybe going a bit crazy.

Okay, alright, it’s only the third week, but neither of the boys seem to be giving clues that they’re finally realising how stupid they are.

Maybe Luke doesn’t know, explicitly, if Willie crushes on Alex too, but it’s obvious! 99.9 percent!

It’s ridiculous how much their best friend’s pining leads up to nothing, and both of them start to understand some of those slow burn fanfictions out there. Which Reggie made him read, by the way. If anyone asks Reg, he’ll blame it on Julie, probably.

Thankfully, an opportunity presents itself on a silver platter, when Carrie Wilson throws her over the top birthday party.

To be honest, Luke’s not sure how to feel about her, given the past long feud, even though Julie’s assured him she’s changed. He’d trust her with anything, so it’s fine. And seriously, he swears he overheard Flynn asking Carrie on a date, but their friend denied it straight up to his face.

Regardless, since guests (meaning, the entire school) are usually allowed a plus one, Reggie and himself figured it was their job to arrange Alex bringing Willie along.

One weird detail to it all, before they could even bring it up, Alex chimed in, during what feels like their 500th Star Wars marathon night, “You guys… you- uh, you think I should invite Willie to Carrie’s party?”

Did the universe just thank them for their service, or something?

Of course, both boys eagerly nodded, practically jumping in their bean bags, while simultaneously making a little of a deal of it as possible.

Literally proof that soulmates exist, Luke thinks. Yes, that is melodramatic, but he doesn’t give a shit, frankly.

Only problem?

They’re at the very party, the center of the mission now, and Alex and Willie are acting just as shy as usual. The blonde’s even fiddling anxiously, like he always does around his crush, and given that they haven’t lost sight of either of them yet, Reggie voices another sigh to him.

Maybe this is a sign from the universe to not intervene, then, he supposes.

They’re at the ping pong table, the two boys, who apparently are determined to remain clueless for eternity, left for the kitchen to get more snacks.

Seems like Julie’s noticed his own beated demeanor, cause she appears at his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. He can’t not smile, just a little bit.

“What’s got you two losers down?” Flynn asks, suddenly in front of them, and Reg will probably mopily deny he jumped.

“Ugh,” is all Luke says.

“Alex and Willie are impossible.” Reggie adds, nodding in agreement, and instead of the expected understanding, Julie frowns up at him.

“What do you mean?”

Maybe Luke’s sort of embarrassed admitting the plan to her, sensing she’ll find it silly, but really, he can’t hide anything from her, and they’ve given up by now, anyway, “We’ve been trying to get them to admit their feelings for each other.”

Flynn’s frowning now, too.

“We actually had a bet-”

“Yeah, but! Like we love Alex, and he’s so lost on him. But we’ve tried everything.”

“They’re too annoying.” adds Reggie for good measure.

And all of a sudden, Julie’s giggling. Her best friend too, and judging by the look Reg’s giving him, he’s just as confused as himself. She’s so cute when she’s laughing, though, despite this boggling his mind.

“How do you guys not know this?!” Flynn’s saying, and when they’re only scratching their heads, because how do they expect them to understand that, Julie smiles her sunshine smile and pokes Luke’s chin, “They’re roommates, you know.”

That doesn’t make any sense. Whatsoever.

Not until Alex and Willie return with a bucket of popcorn, the skater hanging on to their friend’s hoodie sleeve. Of course, he makes his leave for the bathroom, kissing the blonde’s nose on the way.

Reggie looks at Luke. Oh my god, they’re roommates.