#oh also it's unrequited. if anyone was wondering.

[p4nishers]

izzy already has a crush on stede and is about to make it everyone's problem send post

[bbyhellfire]

curiosity gets the best of eddie when he finds your hitachi (18+ only)

perv!eddie munson x fem!reader, eddie has a bilbo baggins 'why shouldn't i?' moment, male masturbation, prostate stimulation, imaginary bj and p in v, unrequited love, he's gross and pathetic and lovesick (don't use your friend's sex toys w/o their permission), no beta this is not that serious

Eddie could qualify for the Olympics with the amount of hoops he’s jumping through.

He gets it. Laying naked in your friend’s bed as you debate whether or not to use their sex toy is not a good look. But it’s not like that, okay? 

Listen.

First of all, he did not break in. He’s staying at your apartment to watch your cat while you’re out of town. Him lounging in your bed isn’t weird, it's expected.

He wasn’t snooping, either. He was searching. After spending the day hunched over a Ford Taurus, his aching back was demanding he find that bottle of ibuprofen you kept on your nightstand. And when it wasn't in its usual spot, the only logical next step was for Eddie to check your nightstand's drawer. And he did find the ibuprofen, thank you very much. He just also found something else. 

It was hard not to notice. Not just because Hitachi wands are bulky, but because it was sitting right there in the open. No clothes or knick-knacks to hide it, just...there. And he knows what it is. He's seen enough porn to know when he's face to face with a Hitachi.

See? He's not some creep who can't control his crush. He wasn't looking for your sex toy, it found him.

And he tried to forget about it. Really. Slammed the drawer closed so so quickly he almost smashed his fingers. He even took a long, ice cold shower to keep himself from chubbing up. Thought about anything and everything except for his recent discovery– car transmissions, his next DnD campaign, Wrestlemania, Wayne's mug collection, anything to get his mind off of you. Which is easier said than done when he’s using your soap to scrub away the car grime and shame.

It's no wonder his cock remains semi-hard for the rest of the evening. He discovered his crush’s vibrator. Who moves on from that? Like, are you really pining over your friend if you aren't hyperfixating on their sex toy?

Besides, Eddie is a naturally curious person. He’s seen his fair share of porn and all the actors seem to have a grand ol’ time when there's a Hitachi between their legs. He wouldn’t mind trying one himself, but they’re expensive. Sure, he’s got a stable job at Thacher Tire, but he’s not in a tax bracket where he can drop $100 on casual curiosity. 

But now…

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, he reasons, thumb ghosting over the power button in debate. That logic is how he ends up in his current position – naked in your bed with his cock resting against his tummy as he inspects your wand.

It’s heavier than he imagined, the noticeable weight only rivaled by the angel on his shoulder yelling at him to put it back. But it's your toy. He's had a crush on your longer than he'd like to admit. And no matter how many times Steve pushes him to ask you out, he's certain you don't feel the same. You're just friends, and this might be his only opportunity to know you on a more intimate level.

A fucked up, kinda gross and intrusive opportunity, but still. Beggars can't be choosers.

And right now, Eddie can't help thinking how it's oh so very interesting that you left your wand out in the first place. You knew he’d be staying at your place, sleeping in your bed. There was a chance he’d stumble across it. You could have made an effort to hide it, but you didn't. You left it there for anyone to see, for Eddie to see. 

Did you want him to find it? Did you want him to think of you using it?

Because if that was your plan, it's sure as hell working. His last functioning brain cell work to conjure up various images of you laid out in the very spot he is now in, pleasuring yourself until your whole body shakes and your thighs are drenched.

Wait, could you squirt?

The women in porn usually squirt. Even the men come so hard it hits the ceiling. He shifts in your bed, imaging the pretty green sheets beneath him soaked with your juices as he brings the wand closer to his face.

The buttons are a little faded and there are some tiny scratches, but no major signs of use. The wand is clean, and obviously cared for. Which now has Eddie thinking how long you've had it. How often do you use it? Enough to make the plastic smell like you? He wonders…

Smashing his nose against the plastic, he inhales until his lungs balloon out. The smell of plastic hit him first, following by a muted scent that tickles his nostrils. Natural musk and sweat.

Jesus H. Christ, he is smelling you. 

He can’t bite back the low rumble from escaping, groaning as if he's being tortured. His cock twitches against his tummy, a fat pearl of precum budding at the tip. There’s no turning back now. Not when he kitten licks the bulbous head picturing your cunt in its place. He thinks of how good you'd taste, how wet and shiny you'd be as he dips into your hole.

Fuck it. It’s a one time thing. You won’t be home for another two days. The only potential witness to his debauchery is your cat, and they’re too distracted with a catnip toy in your living room.

“No one will know, they won’t,” He tells himself, taking one final sniff before grabbing a hold of his cock. He might not be able to step foot into your bedroom ever again, and there's a chance he won't be able to look you in the eyes, but, hey, that’s a problem for future Eddie.

It takes him a second to find a comfortable position, eventually settling to hold the wand perpendicular to his cock as he leans back against the headboard.

Just once to know what it feels like, he thinks. There is about a centimeter of space between the wand and his cock, but it's still close enough to make his breath hitch when he pushes down on the power button.

“Fuck!”

His stomach seizes, muscles tightening so violently he all but sits up. Jerking the wand away from him, he tries to compose himself as the toy makes his entire arm shake. It’s embarrassingly loud even on the lowest setting, but holy shit is it powerful. It hadn’t even touched him, but Eddie still shook in shocked bliss. He and an ex occasionally messed around with a mini pocket vibrator, but this. This is otherworldly.

And perhaps now would be a good place to stop. He's tried it, knows it could raise the dead. Pack it in, Munson. Put it back where you found it. Right?

Right.

Except his lack of self-control has doubled in size and devoured the last crumb of common sense he possessed. He's already started, might as well finish. He's already corrupted your friendship, at least let him get an orgasm out of it.

This time he lets the wand kiss his cock to send brutal ripples across his throbbing erection. With motorized tremors traveling all the way down to his balls, he imagines you on your knees, working his pants and boxers down so you could take out his cock. You bring him towards your mouth, stopping mere centimeters away, much like he had done with the wand. Your hot breath is fanning out against the underside of his cock as you say, “You have such a pretty cock, Eddie. Can I kiss it?”

“Y–yeah. Go on, sweetheart.”

As Imaginary You kisses the tip, he pulls the wand back just enough to dull the pulsing. He pretends the sensation is your mouth, kissing all the way around his tip. Down and around until your lips shine with his precum.

His groans are barely audible above the loud buzzing. He keeps his cock still, letting the wand trace the path of a particularly thick vein as he pretends it's your tongue. He imagines stroking the back of your head, coaxing you to take him into your mouth.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock. D'you know that?” 

You move your head in a disjointed nod, tears puddling in the corners of your eyes as the warmth of your mouth envelopes him. His fist tightens around his cock at the thought of you moaning with your mouth stuffed of him.

“Go on, you can take a little more.” 

It's not the vibrator that is shooting sparks of arousal through his cock, it's you and your moans. He ruminates on his fantasy, imagines you kissing and sucking like he's your favorite flavor of ice cream. Slowly moving the wand up and down until he’s built up the courage to take the wand lower.

The closer he gets to his balls, the more his cock leaks until it looks like he dumped on a bottle of lube on his crotch. He thinks of you grinding against the floor, his cock thrusting in and out of your mouth, until the vibrating head is nestled in the space between his cock and his balls. In his mind, you match his desperation by grinding against his boot, shining it with your slick.

Eddie teeters on the edge of release, panting like he’s run a marathon, his cock now an angry shade of purple. He's not gonna last for long. A fucking toy has reduced him to a virgin whose just watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High for the first time.

Shit. Now he's thinking about tits.

Your tits. He's never seen them, but he does remember all those hot, summer days spent cooling off at Lover's Lake. He can work with that. If there is anything DnD and tonight have proven, it's that he’s got a damn good imagination.

His broken whimpers match the way his thoughts slowly break off into disconnected clips as he hurtles himself closer to release. Your boobs cushioning his face. Him sucking bruises into your skin. Him notching himself at your entrance. You squirming so much he has to hold your hips down.

“Come on, Eddie. Need it, need you. I’ve been good.”

He’s drooling at the thought of your pussy, pulsing and warm and so fucking inviting as he sinks into your heat. You’re moaning too, whining his name as if you crave him as much as he craves you.

“Ohmygod, I feel you. Feel so good.”

“There you go, taking me so good. Wanted this for so long you don’t even know.”

The loud buzzing eggs him on, making his hips buck with little grace. He's not doing it for the extra stimulation, but as a visceral response to the heightened passion of the moment. It's everything working in tandem – the wand, his fantasies, and the piece of him that wishes this could become a reality. He can’t sit still, not when pleasure is this good.

The waves of dizzying pleasure carry him closer to oblivion, just a bit more and he'll be there.

Eddie's next move is consequential. Letting go of his cock, he moves to cups his heavy balls, tugging them up just enough to push the wand head into the space below his balls. The noise he makes is wild, animalistic in the way his vocal cords constrict, as the fierce vibrations spread all the way to his asshole. The feeling sinks into his flesh, radiating through his taint to shale his prostate.

He recalls every instance when you called his name, the soundtrack to his fantasy. He feels the phantom pressure of your heels digging into his lower back. You keep him locked in place, as if he would have left you.

"Eddie, please! Come inside me. W–want your cum."

He does his best to imagine what it would be like to pump you full, to feel you pulse around him, to smell his cologne mix with your sweat, to see his release dripping out of you. He needs it, needs you. The hand holding the wand went numb ages ago, but he still manages to extend a finger to turn up the intensity.

From there, it's a combustion of stars. Groaning, body shaking with little remorse, Eddie spills his seed in thick ropes. He's levitating off the bed, he has to be with how intense this orgasm is. All he can do to soothe himself is call your name until he is reduced to the cum covering his abdomen.

He can't remember when or how he turned off the wand, but it’s now on the floor. Quietude falls over your tiny apartment, and somehow it's more deafening than the motorized buzzing. It hits him like a heavy gust of wind, blowing in a profound sense of shame for what he just did.

Fuck. Did he…? Did that actually happen?

“Oh God,” He groans. Yeah, he really did that. His embarrassment is hot like fire and as rough as brimstone. He knows he needs to clean up and hide the evidence of his perversion, but he lays paralyzed at the inevitable consequences of his actions. Eddie is a mess, both physically and mentally.

Messy Munson, that's his new name.

Or maybe it's not that bad, he thinks. Maybe it just seems like that. He dares himself to look down at his spent cock and–

Jesus H. Christ, he didn't know one person could produce that much cum.

His abdomen is flooded, there is cum pooled in his belly button, and the thatch of pubic hair is glued together from his seed. And of course, it couldn't just stay in it's place, it's had to drip down to soil your sheets.

Throwing his head back into your pillow, he shuts his eyes as if the sight pains him. He did this and he's got to fix it. There is absolutely no way that you can find out about this. As he stands on shaky, Bambi legs, he starts a mental checklist:

Take another shower

Wash your sheets

Resist the urge to do it again

Clean your wand and place it back exactly as it was

Forget about your Hitachi (like, actually forget this time)

Figure out how to act like nothing ever happened

Do NOT do it again

divider by @/strangergraphics

[mellowwillowy]

CW: A literal Serial Killer, obv gore description.

Yan! Serial Killer who didn't expect to fall head over heels for you, his supposed next victim. Don't get him wrong, he still wishes he could just yank those eyeballs out of your eye sockets and dip them into his cup of tea but he will refrain from doing so, just yet.

Yan! Serial Killer who loves to hide under your bed and waits for you to either fall asleep, stay up like a bat, or do your business. He's savoring every little noise you make like a fine wine.

Yan! Serial Killer who will actually stay in your home like he lives in it. Won't hesitate to make himself a dinner if you are a heavy sleeper (can always just knock you out with sleeping pills). That said he will also shower in your home, savoring the scent of the products you are using

Yan! Serial Killer who actually helps you in one way or another! Oh goodie, you ran out of soap! Here, let him refill it for you. Wait, you got a stain on your shirt. tsk tsk tsk, this will do justice. Hm? Are we running out of eggs? A visit to the market will solve the problem!

Yan! Serial Killer who loves to collect the eyeballs of anyone who dares to look at you for more than 5 seconds adoringly. He's lucid enough to differentiate which one to be spared and which one is not.

Yan! Serial Killer who almost squeals happily when you acknowledge him indirectly. "Perhaps my fairy godmother has finally come to help me," you quoted.

Yan! Serial Killer who can't help but stroke one out on your sleeping figure, his hand lifting your pajama up to reveal your chest. He will go as far as to rub his cock against your sex then whoops, plunge it into your hole <3

Yan! Serial Killer who contemplates whether he should cum inside you or not. One thing leads to another, and he chooses not to (It's rather troublesome to wash you up so he just came inside your mouth <3

!! Gore Warning !! (You don't have to read it if you are not a fan of it, nb: Cannibalism and Necrophilia + Backstory)

Yan! Serial Killer who somehow adores the idea of gutting you and feeling your innards, tasting how your heart beats against his tongue, or playing with guts as though he is making dough.

Yan! Serial Killer who adores you so much that he won't stop rutting against you, fucking you despite your state, cold and unmoving. Dead. He might even treat himself by burying himself deep in your guts huh?

Yan! Serial Killer who will not let death separate you two. Didn't you know that the reason he fell for you? Ah, you didn't know why he is branded as a serial killer too right?

Erickson is a man of wonder, due to his upbringing as the first heir of an infamous dukedom, he has been spoiled rotten with everything he has always wanted.

Nonetheless, he feels like he has never even once been given what he truly wanted because the supposed first heir is supposed to be his twin brother, Noel, who came out first.

In the mansion where his family resided, there was a servant who caught his twin brother's heart. A girl, or a boy? He pondered. It appeared that you were an orphan that his mother took in out of pity for your state.

It was not love nor fascination. It was the urge to take and destroy what Noel possessed and adored. And this kept going even until the three of you grew up as adults.

He would do anything to tarnish his brother's life, his position, his honor, and his beloved. That would also include you, his unrequited lover whom he accidentally met during his killing spree.

It was boredom that killed him and killing people kept him away from boredom. But you? You surely would not fail to ease his boredom for you were whom his brother longed for. And what Noel longed for would be what Erickson longed for as well, alas loving you in his stead.

[forzalando]

what if?

unrequited love, best friend!lando blurb request from @foreveralbon! liyah gave me the choice of which side the unrequited love came from and unfortunately, i chose to break lando’s heart. please forgive me. i tried to find a pic where he looked a little sad but i don't want him sad so i strayed completely from the vibe of this blurb. also yes, if anyone was wondering, i named the male oc aaron because of aaron hotchner. can't tell if i love or hate this so go easy on me lol pairing: fem!reader x best friend!lando (platonic), fem!reader x oc male word count: 2.1k summary: it’s finally time for your friends to meet someone special. you’re in love with him, and lando has to come to terms with that. tw: unrequited love, heartbroken lando

Your phone buzzed from across the room, a familiar ringtone echoing through the air letting you know that Lando was finally returning your call.

“I sincerely hope you haven’t been avoiding me because you’re planning on ditching my dinner party tonight,” you scolded as soon as you picked up the phone.

“I would never,” Lando gasped. “I was on the sim and had my phone on silent – do you need me to bring anything? How many people will be there?”'

“Oh, not too many at all, I’ve got everything I need. I asked Max, Pietra, Carlos, Rebecca, Charles, and Alex. Oh, and Maxie is coming and bringing someone, can you believe it? I’m so glad he’s finally moving on from Kelly. Oscar and Lily can’t make it – he’s got a family thing, but he promised a double lunch ‘date’ when they’re back in Monaco next week.”

“Geez, why are all of our friends in loving relationships or dating except us, huh? Look at us, the old spinsters!”

You didn’t miss the sadness in his voice even though he tried to mask it with a joke, which made your next admission even harder than you thought it would be.

“Actually, I have someone I want you to meet,” you said quietly.  “His name is Aaron and he’ll be here tonight.”

“Really?” Lando coughed, hoping to mask the sound of himself choking on air. “It must be pretty serious for you if he’s meeting all of us – how, um, how long? Have you been seeing him?”

You knew he’d ask and you didn’t want to answer, afraid that he would be upset you’ve kept this from him for so long. You’ve always shared everything with him for the past five years, but for a few subjectively good reasons, you’d kept this a secret until now.

“Please don’t be mad,” you mumbled. “I’ve been seeing him for about seven months but I wasn’t hiding it on purpose or anything, I swear, I just didn’t want to ask you to prioritize meeting my boyfriend during the season. It was too soon to introduce you over summer break, now was just the best time.”

You heard Lando exhale on the other end of the line – whether it was a sigh of annoyance, relief, or anger, you couldn’t tell.

“I get it, don’t worry,” he forced out. “I know I’m never around. I’m excited to meet him, I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

Before you could say anything else, Lando ended the call.

Lando hadn’t taken his eyes off of you the entire evening – introductions had gone perfectly, all of your friends seemed to love Aaron, conversation was flowing smoothly, but it was painfully obvious, at least to you, that something was up with Lando.

You’d barely gotten through dessert when the onslaught of relationship questions started coming your way – mainly from Charles, if you can believe it. Aaron had started on cleaning up the kitchen and Charles didn’t hesitate to bombard you as soon as Aaron had left the room.

“So, how did you guys meet? How did he ask you out? Tell me everything.”

“Charles!” Alex scolded. “Don’t interrogate her, she’ll tell us if she’s ready!”

You smiled in thanks at Alex, although you knew she was just as eager to hear you tell the tale.

“Actually, I have Lando to thank,” you smiled at Lando, turning your attention towards him for a brief moment. “The day we met, I was supposed to be having lunch with him but he got caught up in a meeting and was running way late. Aaron saw me sitting alone and thought I’d been stood up, introduced himself, and then gave me this cheesy line about how someone was missing out on a date with the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Rebecca sighed and fixed her gaze on Carlos – “why aren’t you that romantic?”

“I’m perfectly romantic,” Carlos countered. “Remember when I – ”

Pietra interrupted and shushed him abruptly, “Y/N isn’t done talking, you can defend yourself later.”

“Anyway,” you laughed, “I told him that I was waiting for my best friend and he offered to buy me a drink while I waited, but Lando had texted about five minutes before that he was on his way. So, I turned him down, but he left a note with the hostess and asked her to give it to me when I was on my way out. It was just the next day’s date, a time, and the name of a wine bar nearby signed with his name. I showed up and the rest is history, he charmed me.”

“I didn’t know it was Lando you were waiting on,” Aaron chimed in, walking into the dining room. He stopped next to Lando’s chair, holding his hand out for a handshake. “As a lifelong McLaren fan, I never thought I’d be thanking Lando Norris for arriving late, but thank you. You changed my life that day.”  

Lando slowly shook his hand and with gritted teeth responded, “Yeah, man, no problem. Glad I could help, seriously.”

From the looks on everyone’s faces, it was now clear to you that you weren’t the only one who noticed something was wrong with Lando.

He’d barely said a word all evening, and from the tone of his voice, it definitely was a problem and he was not glad he could help.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, I’m going to get some air,” you announced, rising quickly from your chair. “Lando, come with me? Aaron, I’ll finish up in the kitchen later, why don’t the rest of you get comfortable in the living room?”

Begrudgingly, Lando followed you out to your patio. It was surprisingly chilly for mid-December and the sudden gust of wind that pulled a shiver from you wasn’t helping at all. You had barely stopped shivering when you felt Lando’s jacket drape across you, his hands smoothing the shoulders down before he took his place next to you against the balcony.

“There he is,” you crooned. “My kind and considerate best friend.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You turned your head to face him rather than look at the view, your eyebrows furrowing together and a sick feeling creeping into your stomach.

“Do you not like Aaron?” You asked quietly, the frown on your face deepening. “Everyone else seems to love him, did he say something to you? You were a little…off just now, are you mad he’s a McLaren fan? I promise you, he is not dating me to get to you or any other crazy idea you may have concocted. He didn’t even know we were friends for the first three months.”

Lando didn’t answer you, his eyes still trained on the Mediterranean Sea in the distance. He was picking at his fingernails – something he only did when he was anxious or upset.

“Please say something,” you pleaded. “I, gosh I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I'm in love with him, Lando. If you have reservations or concerns, please be honest with me. Your opinion means a lot to me, more than I thought it would.”

The silence was deafening – still no response for what felt like ages, the sick feeling in your stomach growing more prominent with every passing second.

“You love him?” Lando finally spoke, looking down, out, away – anywhere but at your face.

“Yes, I do. Like, a scary amount. I’m terrified, actually, but in the best way. I never thought I’d find love like this, Lan.”

“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it?” Lando laughed, a humorless laugh, and backed away from the railing to sit on one of your deck chairs – his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Before you could voice your confusion, he looked up at you, a sadness in his eyes you’d never seen before.

“He’s annoyingly wonderful and perfect for you, Y/N,” he began. “As soon as I walked in tonight, I knew. He barely let you lift a finger, remembered facts about everyone in there and was sincerely happy to get to know everyone. He gravitates towards you, smiles whenever you speak, always wants to be near you, and holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him. He treats you how I would treat you if I were lucky enough to be in his shoes. And the way he looks at you? I know that look,” he paused, closing his eyes tightly. “It’s the way I look at you.”

The sick feeling in your stomach turned to dread and you felt your heart squeezing in your chest, a mix of a gasp and a sob climbing out of your throat.

“Lando, I – ”

“It’s ok,” he smiled, staring directly at you with watery eyes. “I love you. I know it’s one-sided, and that’s ok. I promise you, it’s okay. I just needed you to know, and not because I thought it would change your feelings for him or to confuse you, you just deserve to know. I’ve kept it from you for far too long and I wish this wasn't how or why I finally told you.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, your hand shaking as you reached for Lando’s, gripping it so tight you thought you might leave a bruise.

“I’m sorry, Lando,” you cried. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I – I never would have made you come or said those things if I had known.”

Guilt crawled its way into the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Some of your friends and family members had alluded to his feelings for you over the years, but you always ignored them, insisting that you were just friends, best friends, but you secretly sometimes felt that there may be some truth in it. You wished more than anything in that moment that you had taken that feeling more seriously.

“I didn’t want you to know, it’s my fault you didn’t know,” Lando insisted. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“If you need some time, some distance, I can respect that,” you offered, though the thought of Lando agreeing to that was unbearably painful.

“No, no, I’ll be ok. It’ll take some time for me to move on but I’d rather deal with the pain of being close to you while I get over you than not have you in my life for however long it takes. All that matters to me is that you’re happy, and if Aaron makes you happy, I can live with that.”

Selfishly, you sighed in relief, squeezing the hand you were holding before pulling away from him. Your friendship would feel different for a while, but you could manage different; you could manage anything as long as Lando remained a fixture in your life.

“I think I’m going to go,” he whispered, rising from the chair and sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’ve made things awkward enough for one evening, don’t you think?”

You started to assure him he did no such thing, but when you saw the smirk on his face you knew he’d said it to try to relieve the heaviness that had settled over you. You handed him back his jacket, smoothing the shoulders down once he’d put it on just as he did for you earlier. Small, tentative smiles graced both of your faces before you pulled him into a gentle hug, hesitating just enough to allow him to back away if it was too much for him.

He squeezed you once tightly and then let go – the quickness of it expected, but the fact he accepted it at all gave you hope that everything would be ok.

You watched him as he reached for the door handle to go inside, but he paused and turned around just before he grabbed hold.

“Would it have made a difference? If I had told you before you met him?”

You weren’t sure which answer would hurt him more, but you were always honest with him and that wasn’t going to change now.

“No, Lando, it wouldn't have. I do love you, I always have and always will, but I'm not in love with you. I've never thought of you in that way, I'm sorry.”

He nodded once, accepting your answer, and then he was gone. You were being truthful, and Lando knew without a doubt that you were, but he also knew in his heart and soul that you would always and forever be his biggest “what if?”.

-----------

taglist: @scuderiahoney @lam-ila @anaviieiraaa @nebarious @chocolatepoetryfun

if you would like to be tagged in any of my fics please refer to this post or send a message to my inbox!

[livinginshambles]

If I could take it all back | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: James' time to pine over you. After James rejected your feelings, and you promised to get over him during the summer break, he finds himself in the same position of unrequited love and wishes he could take his words back.

Can be read as a standalone but part two of a multi-fic

Masterlist Part one

Notes: Not proofread, probably spelling mistakes. Its a happy ending, what a surprise (but I did promise to lovely anon that next time, I'll make it tough on James)

_________________________

What would your reaction be if he told you that he may fancy you. You probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he figured. And it’s not as if he actually fancied you, right? His mind was probably just confused because he, for the first time ever, wasn’t so preoccupied with Lily, and could instead acknowledge other girls too.

James plopped down on his bed in exhaustion after their first day back at Hogwarts and his mind wandered off to you.

“Bloody hell, is it me, or was that ceremony more tedious than ever before?” Sirius complained after he too dropped down on his bed across the room.

“Just gets longer each year,” Remus groaned in dismay, stuffing his face in his pillow with a deep sigh.

“And that choir,” Peter chimed in. He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, the rest of the marauders dramatically joining in on complaining.

“And ignoring the toads, there was a bloke who kept making eyes at our Y/N,” Sirius huffed. James’ relaxed posture turned rigid, and he rolled over, so his eyes could snap towards Sirius. “What!? Who?”

“Calm down, Prongs,’ Remus was quick to shush him. “Sirius is exaggerating as usual.” A pillow was thrown his way. “Also, it wasn’t inappropriately making eyes at her or anything. He just smiled at her, that’s all.” Remus ducked the pillow.

“Yeah, and it was completely mutual, so it’s alright,” Peter decided to add his own observation of the incident in attempt to reassure James. His words seemed to have the opposite effect, although James tried to hide the way his heart plummeted. Mutual?

“True, she even blushed a little,” Remus seemed to recall. “You reckon she fancies him?” He wondered out loud and James huffed in annoyance. “That’s ridiculous, Y/N doesn’t fancy him,” he curtly replied. Peter shook his head. “But didn’t she say that she fancied someone last year?”

“Well if she fancied anyone, it wouldn’t be that stupid git,” James stubbornly said. Sirius squinted his eyes at James before a shit eating grin appeared on his face. “Prongs…” he slowly began. “Do you fancy our Y/N?” Remus and Peter’s jaws fell slack, sitting up to stare at James.

James froze and his mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to deny Sirius’ accusation. “No, I don’t,” he defended himself. “I just know Y/N and I’m telling you, that guy is not her type,” he scoffed.

“Well to be fair, we don’t actually know her type, she hasn’t dated anyone before and refused to tell us about her crush.” Sirius poked. “Well, I do,” James snapped. There was a long awkward silence while the marauders raised their eyebrows at his tone, and then James cleared his throat. “I just mean that I’ve known her longest, so obviously I know her type,” he tried to explain.

“Right.” Sirius slowly drew out. Remus and Peter nodded their heads but not at all looking convinced. James dropped back down on his bed and let his mind wander off to you again. Oh, who was he lying to, of course he fancied you.

“So, lovely Y/N, what’s your type in regard to guys,” Sirius curiously asked you. James shot him an angry look that you couldn’t see as you were huddled against him, your back to his chest so that you two could fit on the armchair together.

“What, like personality or looks?” You tilted your head in question.

“Uh, both?” Sirius asked.

You hummed in thought. “Well, kind of like Prongs, I guess,” you shamelessly admitted, and James almost choked on his own saliva. “Though, look-wise, you’re pretty easy on the eyes too, Pads.” You winked jokingly at Sirius, and he blew you a kiss while laughing out loud before getting back on the matter at hand. “So, James here is your type?” He almost disbelievingly repeated.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

James scanned Sirius’ face and could see the gears turning in his friend’s head. Merlin, he’d have to let Sirius know that he didn’t have to bother playing matchmaker, he’d destroyed any chances of you two ever becoming more by himself, two months ago.

His arms tightened around you unconsciously. It didn’t matter as long as he could keep you close like this. He’d take whatever you’d give him, he decided. He was happy enough with your friendship.

“And not that Hufflepuff guy from the choir yesterday?” Sirius pressed on.  

“Huh? Oh!” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You mean Klaus?” You bashfully smiled at your friends. “He actually asked me out on a date, encouraged by his brothers and sisters and all,” you admitted. “I guess he’s cute, but I told him I’d rather get to know him as a friend first, before going out,” you said. “I mean, I’ve never even spoken to him, but I’m not opposed to it.”

James couldn’t help but feel jealous at your words, his stomach turning at the thought of you getting to know some guy and then going on a date with him.

“I mean, he’s not really like James, is he?” Peter asked. James held his breath and waited for your reaction.

“Well, maybe it’s better if he’s not like James at all. It’d probably feel weird to date someone who is exactly like your best friend.”

James frowned. “I disagree,” he spoke up. You turned in his lap to look at him. “I mean, isn’t a partner supposed to be your best friend or something.” James motioned around with one of his arms. You laughed at his statement. “Yeah, your partner should be someone that you consider your best friend, but not necessarily a copy of ‘your existing best friend’,” you remarked. “Maybe Klaus will be another best friend.”

“You can only have one best friend,” James grumbled pettily. “Best is a superlative, there’s only one and that’s supposed to be me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, and his eyes couldn’t help but flicker towards your lips. James looked away, flustered at your proximity. “I can have more best friends. Peter, Remus and Sirius are my best friends too.”

“But they’re an exception,” James whined. You swatted him. “So, make an exception for whoever I want to be best friends with. I have good character judgement.” James sighed. “Of course,” he muttered in surrender. You beamed up at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up.

James felt his heart flutter and frowned at the loss of contact. “I’m going to study with Lily,” you said and bent down to give Peter and Remus a kiss on the cheek as well.

You stopped at Sirius and gave him a reprimanding look. “No funny business Padfoot,” you warned him, and he chuckled at the memory of when he had turned his head last minute as a joke, resulting in an ‘almost kiss', because you had quickly pulled back, right on time and tripped. In attempt to hold onto Sirius, you had grabbed his shirt and accidentally ripped it on your way down. When Professor McGonagall had found you on the floor in front of Sirius who was shirtless, you’d both gotten detention. In separate classrooms.

Sirius held his hands up in mock surrender and you gave him a kiss on the cheek too. Then you turned around and left the common room.

“What in Godric’s name was that, Prongs?” Sirius immediately commented as soon as the door closed.

“Pads, no.” James immediately cut him off before he really started to get any brilliant ideas.

“She said you’re her type!” Sirius exclaimed, his arms flailing around enthusiastically.

“Padfoot, seriously-,”

Remus and Peter snickered. Sirius shot them an unamused look.

“Prongs, are you stupid? You’re her type! You fancy her, and she considers you as her type of people she’d date?” Sirius couldn’t phantom why James wasn’t as thrilled about this as he was. Unless-

It seemed that Remus had caught on to it too. “She already confessed her feelings to you, didn’t she?” He carefully asked. James didn’t respond right away.

“She fancied Prongs!?” Sirius gaped in utter shock at James at the revelation, an incredulous look on his face. He turned towards James. “What happened? Oh, Merlin, did you reject her?”

“All that matters is that she doesn’t fancy me anymore, alright?” James ended up saying.

“Merlin, what did you tell her?” Peter asked, eyes wide at James’ reluctance to explain what happened.

“Nothing! I just-, I knew she fancied me, but I thought that Lily was it for me” James defended himself.

“After she found out on the train that Lily agreed to meeting up for a date during the summer vacation before I could tell her myself, she confessed her feelings and I told her that we would always be best friends, but never anything more,” James confessed with a sigh, and he looked down at his hands in his lap.

“She said she understood and that she’d get over her feelings so we could go back to being best friends this year, without having it be awkward.” James trailed off. “And she did, so here we are,” he sighed.

“Well maybe she’s just pretending to be over you,” Peter offered.

“We all know that Y/N can’t lie for shit,” Remus pointed out.

James groaned.

“Wait, when did you even have time to realize that you fancy our Y/N between your ‘sort-of-but-not-really-because-you-two-never-actually-dated’ breakup and today?” Sirius intercepted the conversation again.

Before James could answer, Frank entered the room. “Guys, I’ve got a date,” he breathed out, face still red from running up the stairs.

“Hey, congrats mate! You finally mustered up the courage ‘ey,” James grinned broadly at him.

Frank scratched the back of his head. “Well, Alice did, I guess,” he answered almost embarrassedly, if not for the proud grin he was wearing. Sirius whistled at that, and Frank beamed even more. “Yeah, she’s amazing.”

James smile never faltered, but when he looked at Frank’s gleeful face, his mind wandered off once again and he imagined that if you were to ask him out, he would most certainly have the same reaction.

Blimey, he would never be that happy with just your friendship, would he? He’d have to tell you eventually, he supposed.

But of course, two months would pass by, and he chickened out time and time again, which all led to his current situation. He was sitting at a table in the corner of the establishment, attention captivated by your cheery laughter while tou were on your date with the Hufflepuff boy who was embarrassedly looking away while you patted his arm in reassurance.

“Don’t worry, I fully agree with you. Dave really is sexy,” you winked at him. Klaus relaxed at your words and smiled along, both of you glancing at the waiter who walked away from your table after taking your order.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Remus muttered quietly to his friends, in particular to Sirius, who was currently filling a cup of butterbeer with a laxative potion, reserved for your date. Seeing that Sirius wasn’t going to give up, he nudged James under the table.

“Prongs, this is wrong, and you know it,” he hissed. James looked conflicted. His eyes darted between your smiling form, the hand on you arm and the cup of butterbeer.

Jealousy flared up when he saw Klaus lift your hand and kiss the back of it in a dramatic way, and he pushed any feelings of guilt to the back of his mind.

“Well, my old man is already disappointed in me anyway,” Klaus concluded and shot a wink at Dave who came with your drinks. “Danke,” he nodded appreciatively before gawking at your pink drink. “Is that the dragon fruit drink?” He asked. You nodded. “Want to try it?”

“Oh Merlin, this is amazing!” Klaus moaned and you laughed while shushing him, getting strange looks from the people around you. “If you promise to stop moaning like that, you can have it all,” you said, shaking your head amusedly. “Oh, I couldn’t,” Klaus said, but eyed the drink with big eyes in interest.

“You already drank half of it anyway, doofus,” you laughed, and you reached for his still untouched butterbeer.

James’ blood ran cold. “Fuck,” he cursed and before he could help it, he had surged forward and slapped the drink out of your hands, accidentally spilling the contents all over your date.

“Prongs? What the hell?” You exclaimed in surprise. You immediately cast a cleaning spell on Klaus, apologized to him, and turned to face James with a glare on your face.

“I just-,” James wasn’t sure what he should say.

“You just?” You asked him, annoyed.

James didn’t respond anymore and instead just turned on his heels and fled towards Hogwarts, leaving you flabbergasted. You apologized to Klaus again, but he shrugged and got up, offering you his arm. “I’ll escort you back to the castle,” he said. You hesitated. “We don’t have to go,” you said. Klaus chuckled. “Give him hell, dear,” is all he replied while he grabbed your arm and looped it in his.

“James Fleamont Potter, you absolute twat!” You yelled from the top of your lungs, when you reached the top of the staircase that led towards the portrait. The lady in the portrait gave you a sour look, but opened the door anyway when you said the password.

James heard you from all the way up in his dorm, and winced, waiting for you to barge in any moment, which you did. “Why the bloody hell would you do that?!” You stabbed your finger against his chest.

“I didn’t do it on purpose-“

“Not on purpose?! You just happened to stand behind me and couldn’t control your arm when it shot out and slapped the mug straight in his lap?” You exclaimed in disbelief.

“Well, I didn’t mean for it to spill on him.”

“So what, you just wanted to throw it around?!”

“No, I just tried to stop you from drinki-“ James realized his slip up too late. A shiver ran up his spine at the eerie silence.

“And pray tell, why shouldn’t I be drinking the butterbeer that was meant to be for Klaus?” You calmly asked. James flinched at your sharp tone that came out way louder and less calm than you had intended.

He opened his mouth to answer you with a lie when you cut him off. “And think it through, before you tell me any lies,” you squinted your eyes at him.

If he wasn’t absolutely sure that you would shred him to pieces, he would say that you looked cute like that. Luckily, he knew better.

“Because it contained the Laxative Potion which wasn’t meant for you,” James admitted quietly, his face contorting in anticipation for your outburst that never came. You simply closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay,” you shook your head in a disbelieving and disappointed manner.

“Wait!” James called out before you could open the door to leave. He nervously breathed out when you actually stopped and turned around, your face unreadable.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done it.”

You slowly nodded your head, knowing that James was usually a little bit too proud to apologize so quickly, if at all. “So why did you?”

“Because I’m jealous,” his words came out quiet.

Your eyes softened at him. “Prongs, you’re my best friend, there’s literally nothing to be jealous of. Is this because of what I said at the start of the year? I was kidding, I’m not going to make any new best friends or replace you, I promise,” you comforted him.

James almost laughed to himself in pity. “No, it’s not because of that,” he mumbled. He looked back up at you. “I,” he hesitated. ‘I’m jealous because he gets to date you and don’t.”

You frowned. “What?”

James’ face started to heat up, but he refused to chicken out again. “I think I’m in love with you.” The words knocked your breath out of your lungs.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Yeah, no, I heard you the first time but what? No, you said-, you said that we would never be more than friends. Told me to throw those fantasies away because they’d never be real, so I-“

“I know what I said,” James sighed somberly, but he looked at you with pleading eyes. “If I could take it all back, I would.” You looked conflicted but took a step forward and reached out to him with a sigh.

James shook his head. “I promise you I would, because it was stupid and I’m stupid and I lost all chances and oh Godric, now I’m the arsehole who cost you your date, and I do feel bad about it, but I also don’t regret it because I’m selfish,” James started to ramble in a panic and got lost in his thoughts.

His rambling stopped when you wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace. His heart melted, and he took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, trying to get lost in the feeling. You couldn’t find it in your heart to be so angry with him anymore. Though it was unbelievably immature of him, and the rest of the marauders, no harm was done, and he was sorry.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled in his shoulder, voice muffled.

“What, why are you sorry?”

“Because I know what it feels like to be in your position,” you sadly smiled at him when you pulled back a little to face him. "And it's shite."

He laighed a little at that and wrapped his arms around you again, pressing you back to his chest, chasing after your touch.

“And you don’t love me anymore?” He couldn’t help but ask. His eyes were trained on the wall behind you as he looked over your shoulder, not quite ready to face you when you would inevitably tell him that you didn't.

You shook your head. “Well, I still love you dearly, James. And I care about you so much, I can’t erase those feelings ‘just like that’ in only one summer break. You’re literally one of the most important people in my life.” You buried your face deeper in his neck. “But no, I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore.” You could feel James nod at your words. They were not coming as a surprise at all.

“So, you’ll date Klaus now?” He asked in a small voice, refusing to let you back away from the hug as he was fighting not to cry in defeat.

“Nah, he’s uh, he’s going on a date with Dave tomorrow,” you shrugged.

“Who’s Dave?” He weakly laughed, a little bit unsure but hopeful, and you shook your head. “The waiter.”

“Oh.”

You pushed James away softly and he reluctantly pulled his arms away from you. His eyes looked a little bit bloodshot, and his nose and lips were red. Something about the sight of him pulled you towards him again, this time you settled your hands on both sides of his cheeks which he leaned in to. You made up your mind.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I was so in love with you, Jamie,” you whispered to him, and his heart tugged. ‘I know,’ he wanted to say.

“You managed to make me fall in love with you,” you pressed on. “You’ve done it before-,’

“-I can do it again,” James finished, his eyes wide in realization and a wide grin crossed his face. “Will you let me? Try, I mean. Can I try to win you back?”

“Well, no promises, but you can give it your best shot, Jamie.” You laughed. “I mean, you’re my type after all,” you teased him. He puffed his chest at your words, his mind racing because he just got another chance to fix the ending of your story, and he sure as hell was going to give it all he’s got.

“So, starting right now?”

“After you’ve apologized to Klaus.”

“Right, yeah. You reckon we could all go on a double date together?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Taglist:

@elsie-bells @charlie-weasley-is-underrated @dreamingofmarauders @moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @hollandweather @queerqueenlynn @locklyebrainrot @thisrandombitch @grac3aph3lion @earfquak3 @venomsvl @shrekscrustybudassy @middle-of-the-earth @sirene-noir @bettytaylorversion @littlepoisonmushroom @faumpje @iloveutwice @katelebate @moonysupremacy01 @marina468 @fangirl-kimora @bellesowl @badasswlthafatass @sjprongs @armydrcamers @its-a-ittle-bit-cold @ireallywannasleep127 @sayukoi @jsjcue @cashtons-wife @idllyastuff @severegiantjudgefriend @ivy-34 @loudflowerss @moonyunebi @caspianobsessed @laraoverthinks @starsanddream @btsw1fe

@prongsprincessworld @littleshadow17 @prongs-moon @bubybubsters @yeolsbubbles

[agroteraa]

The Wrath of the Stag

Chapter two (the finale)

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 3.2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 2: Artemis

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Warnings: smut, dubcon, fingering, choking, penetration sex, mentions of drugs, almost?onesided!Felix, dark!Oliver, character death, angst.

Word Count: 4K

So, you and Felix had reached the labyrinth.

Lush and blooming in daylight, it seemed hazy and darksome at night. But still, it was the same maze in which you used to love playing hide-and-seek and catch-up with Felix. You could never catch up with him, no matter how much you wanted to, which made you childishly angry, and he laughed and teased you all the time. Now it seemed somewhat symbolic to you.

"So, what did you want, can you finally say, please?" he wondered with a smile. He was already drunk enough, too, but you started sobering up a little from this long walk.

"You were right. Oliver can be weird. I thought we would talk, but he brushed me off and started dancing with one girl, then another... and then he and Venetia..."

You couldn't hold back your tears. Felix hugged you, comforting you. His warm embrace protected you from the cool air and sense of desperation. It seems as if he was covering you not only with safe arms, but also with his angelic wings.

"Hush, sweetie, hush," he said, quietly asking after a while, "...is it getting better?"

You nodded, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes.

Felix smiled slightly, gently wiping the tears from your cheek. Raising his eyebrows, he looked at you expressively, there was a pause in the air. Felix bent down and reached for your lips. You started answering without fully understanding what you were doing. All this alcohol, torn feelings, Oliver's behavior and, of course, the unrequited love for Felix buried deep inside you for several years, made you try to experience this feeling at least once. You enjoyed his warm, soft lips, hugging his shoulders, until it completely dawned on you. No, you couldn’t do that. Feelings for Felix were long in the past, and Oliver was in the present. The situation might be terrible and confusing, but at least you need to talk, and only then make such decisions as how to respond to someone's feelings or not. Especially since your feelings and thoughts now actually belonged to Oliver.

You gently pushed the guy away from you, "I'm sorry, Felix. I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm... thinking about Oliver now."

"What?" he couldn't believe his ears, "Are you really ready to forgive this freak, even after everything I've told you?"

"We should at least listen to his side... and besides, I have... feelings for him," you finally admitted.

"Y/N, what should we listen to? He's a liar and a creep, that's all! What feelings? Oh, don't make me upset, please. I wouldn't want you to choose anyone over me, but if it's Oliver, then it's some kind of insult even!"

He grimaced, and you got angry, "Well, then don't be offended and better choose your own friends next time. Or, as your sister says, "toys"! But it's not for you to tell me who I should or shouldn't be with!"

"Fine. Have fun then! But I assure you, Oliver is unlikely to stay here for long..." Felix threw up his arms, and in a fit of anger turned around and left the maze.

* * *

Not far from the house, he plopped down on a bench, where Farleigh approached him with some two girls. Felix moodily lit a cigarette.

"Hey, buddy, what’s with the face?"

Catton Jr. said nothing and only frowned more, rolling the cig in his lips. Farleigh gave him a drink from his bottle, and then, turning around, quietly suggested, "Coke?"

* * *

You were wiping away the remnants of tears, leaning on the statue of the Minotaur and inhaling the sobering cool air. Looking up, you met the gaze of a horned monster. Despite the intimidating appearance, his eyes were plaintive, like a gentle cow's. You always paid attention to this detail, ever since you had noticed it once as a child, it helped you stop being afraid of the statue when you were running with Felix and Venetia in the maze. Any thing or person, if you look at them closer, does not seem as intimidating as at first glance. Perhaps even worthy of pity.

A familiar horned silhouette appeared in the maze.

"Oliver? How did you..."

"How did you like the party, Y/N? It seems that you completely abandoned your birthday boy tonight," he was slowly approaching you from the darkness. Up close, Oliver looked even more amazing in this suit. You involuntarily looked him up and down, lingering with your gaze on the naked torso peeking out from under the jacket, on which again hung only one chain reflecting the light of the moon. His summer-tanned skin contrasted so well with the glaringly white suit. The pebbles creaked softly under his feet as he came up to you and gently stroked your neck. Your skin covered with goosebumps. You swallowed, pushing those thoughts aside.

"Are you kidding me now? I didn't leave you for the whole evening. And it wasn't me dancing with some random girls and Venetia."

"Oh yeah? But it wasn't me who kissed one of the Cattons this evening!" his fingers closed palpably around your throat.

"Oliver... what are you doing..." he let the grip, and you continued, "Are you crazy? Why the hell were you following us? You're really doing this, gods… Just like Felix said... "

"Said what?"

"That you were watching Venetia and me and that you... did obscene things and told him that you... liked both of us."

He narrowed his eyes, "What else did Felix tell you today?"

You frowned, "That's all," he continued to look at you silently, "That’s enough for me, isn’t it for you?"

He pinned you at the pedestal of the monument, enclosing you between his strong arms. He looked at you with unblinking, darkening eyes and asked, "So, why the hell did you kiss Felix Catton?"

"He kissed me! I've been wanting to talk to you all evening, and you brushed me off... and then you started dancing with some girl.… And then with Venetia… And that's after everything Felix told me.… He tried to comfort me, but I... refused him. I wanted to talk to you first," hot tears rolled down your cheeks again. His face seemed to soften a little.

"First of all," Oliver said, "calm down, my dear. Secondly, you don't know anything. Thirdly," he runs his thumb over your left cheek, wiping away tears," This is still not a reason to kiss someone else. I'll explain everything clearly to you now."

Without warning, he got under the hem of your dress and inserted one finger into you. You exhaled sharply.

"About the window case... yes. I was looking at you, just at you, unable to look away. I will not apologize for this, although it is a pity that Felix and, in the end, you misunderstood me because of him. But these are his problems. Are you going to be mad at me for not being able to resist your beauty? Don't be silly, Y/N. Did you see yourself lying in a swimsuit under the hot summer sun? I did. I'll tell you, it's a sight that you can't handle yourself. Or rather, it was only my hand that could somehow handle it."

He added a second finger and slightly accelerated the pace.

"What about the party… I was in a bad mood, I needed to talk to Felix and explain about this situation so that he wouldn't upset you, but I couldn't find him anywhere. So, I asked his friend first, and then his sister. The fact that they were both drunk, high and desperate for any male attention is not my problem either. I don't know what you’ve imagined..."

The pace of his fingers became ruthless, Oliver also added a third finger, and it almost caused you real pain from the suddenness of everything that was happening. Another tear involuntarily rolled down your cheek.

"...but I've been hoping all evening that after talking to Felix that I'll finally get, as you said, my main gift..."

He licked your hot tear off your face with his even hotter tongue.

"You."

You almost came from a mixture of fear, excitement and arousal.

"I saw you walk past me, holding his hand and not saying a word to me. Of course, I followed you, especially since I needed to talk to him. And what do I see? How he. Kisses. My. Girlfriend."

It was the first time he had said "girlfriend". In a different environment, you'd been absolutely happy, but now a feeling of unknown anxiety had been added to this feeling. Oliver himself would prefer announcing it in different circumstances, but there we go. He pulled out your fingers, which glistened in the dark. You were panting a little. He ran his digits lightly over his lower lip.

"Tell me, is my name Felix Catton?"

You were silent. He couldn't be serious, could he?.. But Oliver leaned over to you and almost whispered his question into your lips, "Is. My. Name. Felix. Catton?"

"No..."

"So, what is my name?" he asked, staring intently into your eyes so that you wanted to sink through the ground. His hands squeezed your forearms painfully enough.

"O-Oliver..." you answered almost soundlessly.

"I can't hear you, Y/N. Say it a little bit louder, please."

You were silent, shaking slightly. It was like the air has left your lungs. Oliver sighed.

He took you by the hips and pulled you to him, turning you over with your chest and stomach on the pedestal of the monument, your front parts of your body were not used to the cold of the stone and immediately became covered with goosebumps, just like your palms and elbows, which you had to lean on now. He bent you and spread your legs wide apart, lifting the hem of your dress.

"You have a very beautiful outfit today, darling. I'm sorry I was out of sorts and didn't say it sooner – you look amazing tonight. Of course, I noticed it right away," you heard the sound of a belt slowly unbuckling, and then the sound of a fabric coming down, "So, who is this? Helena? Or Hermia? Oh, it must be Hermia, isn’t it? How ironic. I hope in this version of the story she won't have to choose between Lysander and Demetrius?"

Oliver, holding your hips, bent down and left a few kisses on your neck, going down to your shoulder blades.

"She won't have to."

With those words, he entered you, abruptly and without warning. You exhaled in a little shock. Oliver entered and fill you up completely at once and, almost without giving you time to get used to it, began unhurried, but nevertheless impatient movements with his hips. You started to sigh and whine, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. He smiled, feeling it, "I didn't expect anything else. So, tell me, dear, what's my name? Only louder this time."

You let out a moan in response, and Oliver picked up the pace, "I'm going to bang those words out of you."

Your eyes were watering, but he watched the way you were twisting and panting. You liked this. He could see it in your face, which was slightly tilted to the side, could feel it within his core. He continued thrusting, his hips meeting your ass with each movement. He reached up, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you closer, the sensation restricting your breathing ever-so-slightly turned you on even more.

"So... what's my name?"

"Oli...ver..." you moaned, stumbling because of his strong grip and the rhythm he had set.

He practically went in and out of you completely with every move, the stone of the pedestal seemed to melt under you. The feeling of a little fear and anxiety completely turned into a pleasure that overshadowed everything else. Oliver took his hand off your throat and moved it to your hair, burrowing into it slightly.

"Oliver… Oliver!" you said louder, breathing heavily, the words turning into moans again.

"Good girl, that's exactly my name. And all the other names, and even more so lips, hands, and so on, you must forget. This is my wish for my birthday."

You looked back and your eyes finally met. His eyes were completely dark with lust, and his lips crooked into a satisfied smile when he caught your gaze. He was horned and you were incredibly horny. Heck, he was horny too, of course, not to say more.

You gasped every time as he was pushing inside you. You were so fucking tight, still so tight, you were need to be fucked more like that sometimes, he kept thinking to himself as he gritted his teeth, feeling your body pulsating around him.

"Fuck, girl, making such a mess over me," he groaned. His head fell back and his grip on you was tightening.

The moon casted a shadow of the two of you on the ground. Oliver's horned silhouette was crashing into you, and a horned monster was looking at it all from above. You were close to the end.

You were mewling, bucking your hips, wanting to take him deeper, the tip of his cock brushing against your most pleasurable spot with every thrust. He drove into you harder, holding you tighter, clenching his jaw. His pace was absolutely merciless and was already just abruptly knocking the air out of you instead of any screams.

"Oliver!.." you came around his cock, and a minute later he followed you, piling on top of you. He was breathing heavily, and then he kissed you on the shoulder, then on the neck, after that he turned you over and sat you on the pedestal of the statue, straightening your dress.

Buttoning up his white pants, he knelt down, gently wrapping his arms around your leg, kissing your knee and looking deep into your eyes. The feel of his warm fingertips against the slightly cold skin on your calf gave your chills. Then he took your hand, kissed it and pressed his face against it. Closing his eyes, he began to rub his cheek against your hand, burrowing his face into your palm. It was an act of adoration after the act of forcibly asserting his authority.

He was again just a mere stag by his Artemis’s side.

You stroked his dark soft hair, and then you began to grope his antlers. Sharp and hard, now you were stroking them securely, although it seemed that a moment earlier Oliver could stab someone with them out of rage. Maybe even you. Any thing or person, if you look at them closer, does not seem as intimidating as at first glance. Yet maybe not quite any.

He rose from his knees to the level of your face, and leaning on his hands next to your hands, he asked softly and hoarsely, "Are you mine, Y/N?"

His piercingly blue eyes were glowing in the dark along with his suit, which seemed almost luminescent white in the night.

"Yes, Oliver, I am yours," you replied, sealing your promise with a kiss.

* * *

You walked silently back to the house, out of the maze, through the garden, past the pond. The small pebbles crunched under your feet. The fresh air, all these wild experiences and emotions today and their passionate resolution made your legs feel wobblier with every step, and your eyes began to feel weary.

Upon entering the hall where the party was going on, you were greeted by loud music again:

One, two, three, four

Let me hear you scream if you want some more

Like ah, push it, push it

Watch me work it

I'm perfect

Oliver kissed you on the stairs. Few people paid attention, but he knew that Felix would most likely notice if he was here. And he was here, and he noticed. You turned around and saw that Felix was already dancing with some girl and was clearly having a good time with her. You were upset. It didn't last long, you thought bitterly. Even though he probably had a lot to drink, it was no excuse to forget his intentions so quickly. But you didn't know that he had been high for a long time on top of everything else.

"Can you get me something to drink?" you moaned.

"Baby, haven't you had enough for today?" Oliver began mockingly, and then, seeing your frown, added, "The wishes of the birthday boy’s girlfriend are the law," and left for cocktails.

That's right, I'm a superstar

Everybody wanna come up when I'm at the bar

All the people wanna try

It's like, give me some more

Try a little harder, honey

Give me some more

You were looking at Felix and the girl in the fairy costume again. He could not take his hands off her, then bent down and began to whisper something to her, or maybe not only whisper, which made her giggle.

Perfection… ha-ha!

The female singer's voice seemed to mockingly comment on the situation.

Your heart has almost broken once again this night. When you saw a drink nearby on a nearby table, you knocked it over without looking at the contents. Damn, it seemed like it was something very strong. Oliver returned with two cocktails, blocking you in every sense from this view. Smiling, you downed another cocktail in almost one sitting. Your head began to spin pleasantly again, pushing out unnecessary thoughts. You and Oliver danced a little. How fabulous he was in that outfit, your birthday boy. The music seemed to disappear for a while when you enjoyed this moment of dancing, without taking your eyes off each other.

Then, the music almost abruptly hit you with a throbbing headache and a heaviness in your eyelids and legs. It seems that fatigue and a sense of stress have returned, multiplied by repeated alcohol intoxication. Oliver led you through the entire crowd and all the rooms, almost every one of which had its own mini-party, until you found yourself on your floor. He carefully helped you undress and put you to bed. Your body ached pleasantly, feeling the soft mattress underneath and the duvet above.

"Good night, Ollie."

"Good night, Y/N," he said softly, "And... Sorry for everything."

"We sort of settled everything," you assured him, being sure that he was only talking about the events of the evening, and not about anything else, "Everything will be fine."

"Everything will be fine, that is for sure."

* * *

Oliver returned to the hall, a bottle of wine in his hand. Felix never let talk to him, literally sent him away, and Quick wanted to give him another chance. Or maybe he didn't want to anymore after Felix laid his eyes and not only the eyes on Y/N.

Catton Jr. danced merrily with his fairy, and then at some point took her by the hand and led her across the hall, outside. Oliver watched all this closely, gloomily drinking from a bottle, leaning against the wall.

Felix's clouded mind told him to finish the job, his regrets almost completely blocked by drugs, alcohol and the desire to lick his wounded ego. Therefore, his almost mindless brain led him down the road that he already knew well. Into the maze.

Oliver followed, his wrath building with each slow but firm step as he was running through all the events that had happened. Going to his parents without warning, ignoring his requests and pleas to stop, turn around, or at least not go with him. The discovery of the truth, the way Felix pushed him away, calling him a fucking liar, yet he had nosed into Oliver's life himself. The way fear and contempt were read in his eyes, mixed with an inner struggle whether to tell it all to everyone or not. To tell it to Y/N or not. The way he started turning Y/N against him. The way he started hitting on Y/N, especially now, knowing it all. And how he immediately traded you for some random girl. And all this was on the date of his birthday celebration.

No, there won't be a second chance, Oliver thought to himself as he poured a huge dose of the drug into the bottle.

It was tempting to say that Felix flew too close to the sun, but he was actually the sun himself. So dazzlingly bright and inviting. It was all the others who were too close to him in the rays of his destructive splendor and the hopes of living the same incredible life as his that endlessly flew up and burned. Besides, it was the middle of the night in Saltburn, so the allegory would be completely missed. However, in addition to those infamous wings, Daedalus created something else - the labyrinth of Knossos, where the Minotaur dwelled and suggested a horror, devouring beautiful young men.

Which meant that Icarus was destined to die anyway from the creation of Daedalus.

The dark antlered silhouette followed the winged youth with the confidence of a predator.

By stepping into this labyrinth, carefree Icarus himself signed the verdict of his fate.

* * *

It still seemed to you that all this was a terrible foggy ill dream from which you still could not wake up from. The scream that Felix had been found with was still ringing in your ears sometimes.

It had been a few days now, and you still couldn't believe that he was gone. No matter what, he was an angel. Childishly selfish, but still generous, open-hearted and always ready to help and support. You remembered his costume at the party and smiled bitterly. Really an angel. And even more so now.

You were so regretful that you didn't speak to him again that night. Were so sorry that you went to bed early and didn't see much. That you never knew that Felix and Farleigh were taking some drugs that night, to the point it was too much and too late, and Farleigh was anyhow to blame for it and he couldn’t save him. That you couldn’t save him.

You went into Oliver's room, but he hadn’t come yet. While waiting, you began to walk around the room, and suddenly saw a book by his bedside table, your birthday present. You sat down on the bed, picked up the book and began to look at it again. Icarus with golden wings, falling away from the sun. You ran your finger over the gold embossed cover. Tears welled up your eyes. Gods. You started crying uncontrollably, hot tears dripping right onto the cover of the book. Gently throwing the book on the bed, you buried your face in your hands and bent over in sobs.

"Y/N, what are you..." Oliver came into the room and rushed to hug you.

"Ollie... the book... I..." you spoke barely legibly through sobs. He began to calm you gently, squeezing you tightly in his arms, "I'm here, my darling, everything is fine."

He wish he could take away this pain that you were experiencing right now, but it was impossible to take away what he had caused himself. Yet he was sincerely comforting you, hugging and kissing you in the most caring way possible, "I'm here and I'll always be there, no matter what happens, you'll be safe and sound with me," his whispering was hot and assuring.

Oliver used to think that there was nothing better than the feeling when you comforted him. However, the way you looked at him with your eyes full of tears, trustfully snuggling closer, searching for his support and his consolation, it turned out to be a feeling on a completely different level. The way you needed him, him and no one else. And only he could grant you any relief. At that moment, he felt that he was close to the deity. Your personal deity.

And Oliver was ready to arrange a hundred more accidents to experience this feeling again.

A hundred? This was, of course, too much. But it was in his power to do a couple more.

He took a deep breath of your scent, burying his nose deeper into your hair and holding you closer. Besides, Saltburn looked like a lovely place for your future shared happily ever after.

[iamnmbr3]

Thoughts on Drarry and post war relationship?

Like, with canon in mind, do you think that Harry would fall first, Draco would or it'd be at the same time?

And who do you think would act on those feelings first and how would the Wizarding world react to the great Harry Potter being in love with a Death Eater?

Because I always viewed Harry as someone that knows what he wants and won't shy away from it, whereas Draco might have a harder time with all of it due to the fact he is a Death Eater, and while I don't think there's actual evidence of it, I always thought he'd feel unworthy of forgiveness and love after the war, so I think that if Harry fell for him Draco would try to push him away.

Sorry it these are two many questions for just one convo but I'm curious on your thoughts

What an absolutely delightful ask! I love getting things like this in my inbox. Definitely not too many questions. Thanks for waiting till I had a chance to sit down and write out a proper answer.

I think it's quite possible that by partway through 7th year Draco was forced to come to terms with the fact that he has feelings for Harry Potter. Strong feelings. Once in a lifetime love feelings in fact. He's tried to run from it and he just can't anymore. Oh he's not foolish enough to think anything will ever come of it. Even if by some miracle they both survive the war he knows he ruined any chance of that long ago. But he does have to face the fact (which he's been hiding from for so long) that the feelings are there. (Meanwhile Harry's too busy compartmentalizing as hard as he can because he's got a war to fight).

And then the war ends and he goes right back to denial - trying to insist to himself that he's over it, he's moved on, he has. Because the alternative is too painful to deal with. Though when he meets Harry again - whether in 8th year or after - he can't help caring more than ever what Harry thinks of him. If they meet again many years later maybe Draco's even given up on trying to convince himself he'll ever be over Harry. He's in unrequited love with Harry Potter. It's just a fact of life, a tragic and painful condition he lives with (though he'd just die if anyone found out). Of course Harry would never want him but it's terribly important to him that Harry at least not think that he is who he used to be. He goes to great lengths to show Harry that he's changed because he needs Harry to know that much at least. Even though he knows it probably hardly matters because ultimately he's just a footnote in Harry's life. It's not like Harry thinks about him.

Harry, of course, thinks about Draco. A lot. Somehow in the aftermath of it all his mind keeps going back to Draco (and also their lives somehow keep intersecting) - returning the wand, thinking about how Draco saved him, maybe inexplicably missing the hawthorn wand a bit, speaking at Draco's trial, perhaps exchanges of letters in the aftermath. And beyond that. Harry can't help notice Draco anytime he's in his vicinity. Can't help reading and remembering any article about him. Can't help wondering what he's up to and making it his business to find out. And when they finally do start interacting regularly he can't help being struck by how much Draco has changed and how enjoyable he actually is to be around in a strange way, and how Draco no longer treats him badly but does still treat him as a person and not a mythical, nearly godlike figure.

Of course, this is not to say that I think they would just immediately fall into each other's arms while Harry quotes the best drarry metas at any doubters. I personally find it jarring and ooc when fics have Harry suddenly hate Draco postwar and be mad that he didn't go to Azkaban and have to be talked around by his friends who are somehow all besties with Draco while Harry is the outlier, because Harry never hated Draco even when he had the most cause to and felt more sympathy for him than others and even lied to obfuscate his crimes. So I don't think that makes sense.

But I also don't think it makes sense for Harry to just immediately act like besties with Draco postwar and start talking about him like he's swallowed a dozen tumblr metas. Because that doesn't feel true to life either. Yes they're drawn to each other. Yes postwar a lot of the barriers keeping them apart are gone. But it would still take time to get over the past contentiousness between them. Harry would need to see that Draco had changed. Especially if we're talking 8th year when emotions are still running high and all their wounds are fresh.

Or even later. I can see Harry initially being suspicious of Draco. I can see Draco caring way too much what Harry thinks of him but that emotion translating into him lashing out when that's the last thing he actually wants to do. Because that's what he tends to do when he's feeling vulnerable. I can see Harry being way too upset and disappointed if he thinks Draco might not have changed, while his friends wonder why he's taking it so personally. And I can see Harry, who is way more introspective than he often gets credit for, starting to think hard about his relationship with Draco and why what Draco does post-war matters to him quite so much.

He might tell himself he's investigating Draco for the safety of others, or even for Draco's own good so he doesn't waste the chance Harry gave him. But it's more than that. And if Harry realizes that Draco's in trouble somehow he's resolved to help. He's tired of the fight. And Draco feels the need to thank Harry somehow, to show him he's changed. Though he's also mystified about why Harry would speak up for him yet again, when he's already done so much. Except of course Harry would do that. Because he's just a good person like that isn't he? Draco was just too busy being jealous and spiteful over something he could never have to notice wasn't he? (It's way more than that of course; Draco has never been just another person to Harry).

Anyway they are always drawn to each other and they always find each other. In 8th year if they go back to Hogwarts or through letters or some other way otherwise. And however many years pass before it happens they both live rent free in each other's heads. Awkward and stilted conversations become less awkward over time and leads to joking that each finds surprisingly enjoyable and then more conversations and confidences and each finding it increasingly difficult to not notice how handsome the other is. And well, one thing leads to another. Harry's the first one to make a move because Draco would never. Even if he thinks the feeling is reciprocated he assumes it's just too impossible given who he is. It would ruin Harry's life.

Even once they get together Draco assumes this will have to be no more than a fling, a dirty shameful secret that Harry will probably regret someday. Harry's not buying that. He doesn't care what the public thinks and never has. And he tells Draco so.

When it inevitably eventually hits the press obviously a lot of the coverage is not kind. Eventually Harry starts to wonder if maybe Draco cares. And he actually pulls a Quibbler 2.0 and gives an interview and by the end of the week the public is obsessed with the epic story of 2 star crossed lovers. Of course, for some Draco's past can never be forgiven and Harry can never be forgiven for associating with him. But Harry doesn't care. He never asked people to look up to him in the first place.

Other people though are thrilled by the story of their epic romance. It's got rivals to lovers caught on the opposite sides of a war, it's got redemption, it's got drama, it's got heartbreak. What's not to like? Sure a lot of the details get mangled. But it works out alright in the end. And eventually as the years and decades go by it's just another story that was big in the day but is now just a fact of life.

[wondermilka]

Parallel Lines

Pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x FEM! reader

Sypnosis : You have harbored romantic feelings for your childhood friend Kazuha, even though you were aware he had feelings for someone else. Despite that, you wanted to confess your love to him. However, an unexpected twist arises when you start experiencing a strange disease, coughing up flower petals.

TW: Hanahaki Disease, angst, unrequited love, rushed ending, not proof read, reader dies(?)

You and Kazuha were inseparable. He was your only best friend, you have known eachother since you were in your diapers. He's the only one who's ever seen real side of you and never judged you for being you.

Your parents trusted him enough to come over and have sleepovers. Hanging out with Kazuha? Sure. Going swimming? No problem. Going to a party? Don't even need to ask as long as Kazuha was with you.

You've had a huge crush on him. You didn't realize it until back on middle school when he comforted you while you were crying because you got bullied.

He was always there for you. He'd be the one to make you laugh when you were crying. He'd be there to cheer you up when life's not going well. He was always there.

You always thought it would be just a harmless crush, not until a new girl came to your school. You saw kazuha's eyes when he first saw her. You never saw those of his whenever you were together.

"What's with that face zuha?" you ask.

"Oh, it's nothing.. There's just this one girl who's been constantly on my mind ever since I saw her," he replied.

His eyes softened and glimmered while he was talking about this girl.

A pain struck your chest, and you felt like you were going to throw up.

"Hmm, let me guess, is it the new girl? I forgot her name though..."

His face turned red as you mentioned the new girl, making it obvious.

"I- Ugh Fine! Yes it's her- just don't tell anyone okay?!" he confessed stuttering.

"Your secret's safe with me" you gave him a playful wink

"Thanks Y/N. You're the best friend ever."

Right. I'm just a friend to him.

Weeks went by and he gained up the courage to approach her. And it went well, he had built up a relationship with the new girl, it hurt to see them together.

You sat alone during lunch, wondering whefe Kazuha is. Of course he was sitting and having lunch with her.

You had no one to talk to during class because his attention was always on her.

How pathetic it was to see yourself like this.

Now you find yourself in the bathroom, experiencing stomach aches and constantly throwing up for weeks. You're well aware that it's the Hanahaki Disease, considering the petals of flowers that accompany your vomiting.

You love Kazuha, but you know you must suppress your feelings for him, or else it will be the cause of your demise.

Were you truly going to die in such a manner?

Another plan canceled with Kazuha. He's prioritizing her over you.

You understand that it's best to keep your distance from him in case he starts noticing your declining health.

You've been avoiding him at school, always attempting to come up with excuses to escape. In fact, you even avoid sitting at the dinner table whenever his family visits, just to avoid seeing him.

"Y/N. We need to talk."

There's no running away now. He has you cornered inside the classroom.

"I'm sorry, Kazuha. I really need to leave."

"Enough with your excuses. Why are you avoiding me, Y/N?"

He can't deny that he has been noticing the way you have been acting; Everytime he glanced at you, you were coughing.

The dark circles beneath your eyes suggest that you haven't been sleeping well. You have also lost weight. Have you not been eating properly?

You remained silent as the silence enveloped both of you, making it unbearable.

The atmosphere felt heavy and... cold. "Y/N, please talk to me. I'm worried about you."

"There is nothing to discuss, Kazuha." Your voice had a serious and chilly tone, yet the pain and cracks was not left unnoticed.

"I know you're not fine. Please, Y/N... Don't push me away. I have always been there for you, haven't I?"

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to suppress silent sobs.

"I'm inlove with you, okay?!?"

His eyes widened.

"And I understand that you only consider me as your friend, so it doesn't matte-..."

Before you could finish speaking, your legs gave way, and you collapsed to the ground.

Your breathing became constricted. It was painful.

Petals and blood began to escape as you coughed uncontrollably.

"Y/N! Are you alright?" Shock formed in his eyes as he recognized the petals. It was Hanahaki Disease. He was the cause of your illness.

On the verge of losing consciousness, Kazuha swiftly held you in his arms.

"Y/N, please don't leave me!" he shouts while tears stream down his face.

As you fade away, the last sound you heard was his desperate plea for you to stay conscious, accompanied by the comforting sensation of his embrace.

Similar to parallel lines, our paths were destined to be close but never to intersect.

A/N : First post. Thoughts? : )

[yhwhsdaughter]

pic

Yoon Bum x Reader

[Name] was Yoon Bum’s first and only love since childhood, which seemed like a lifetime ago. He never really knew when these feelings began, but it was consuming him. Bum longed for her; the constant pain in his chest was proof of that. And it hurt. It hurt whenever she’d look at anyone that wasn’t him. Why not me? He would repeatedly ask himself. Still, when her eyes would grace him, Bum’s heart would beat faster, pumping blood into his system, elongating his life but prolonging his affliction. If it wasn’t for her, Bum would've died a painful death a long time ago.

At the remembrance of his unrequited feelings, a cough erupted from his lips. It was particularly nasty, that, [Name]—who was putting on her shoes—turned at the series of coughs coming from Yoon Bum. She craned her neck to look at him, sliding her right shoe before standing. “Are you alright?”

Bum quickly hid the tissue that he’d spit the blood in, attention flickering to her. This was a common occurrence for him, but he could never get a solid grasp on it. Bum blinked, trying not to cry as he reached for [Name], his lips unable to open, lest another mouthful of blood came out.

At his unresponsive actions, [Name] walked closer, grasping his face gently with her hands upon noting the blood at the corner of his mouth. Her thumbs worked tenderly, wiping the blood off. Bum was euphoric. He never shied away from her touch. When her fingers made contact with his face, Bum's lips parted in a quiet gasp.

“What is this?” Vomiting blood wasn’t normal by any means. “Have you gone to see a doctor?” Yoon Bum was accustomed to blood by now that it didn't phase him. He briefly wondered if he could finally tell her everything, but the discomfort in his chest made him silent. Lowering his gaze, he observed her precious fingers, painted with his blood. He had the urge to hold her hands, his fingers twitching at the notion. “Bum. Are you ignoring me?”

Oh no. At the sound of her stern tone, Bum met her gaze for a second before quickly glancing away, looking apologetic and a bit pathetic. “I...uh…” Bum didn’t know what to say, so he hesitantly outstretched his hand towards hers. “Alright, if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine.” [Name] turned to leave which made Bum jolt in panic. He didn’t want her to leave.

Both of his hands grasped onto her arm, causing her to look back. “What?” If there was anything that Bum disliked, was [Name] being upset with him. His grip tightened, and it was surprisingly strong his skinny frame. He seemed desperate to hold on to her, pleading, “Don't leave.”

“Tell me.”

Bum whined. Even with the silent threat of leaving him, Bum stayed silent. Instead, his hands moved up her face. “Bum.” [Name] spoke seriously. Despite the roughness in her voice and demeanor, Bum had known her long enough to see that she was worried. He was beating himself up internally for causing her beautiful brow to furrow.

[Name] held onto his wrists securely, tight enough to keep him in place but not tight enough to harm. “Answer me now, or I leave.” Bum's eyes widened when he realized that she wasn’t bluffing, a cold sweat beading down his forehead. Bum swallowed, “I…”His words became caught in his throat as he tried to force out a single sentence. “I have.. Hanahaki disease.”

“What?”

“It's…,” Bum struggled to explain, his lips trembling from a flurry of emotions. “It's the reason behind my coughing, the pain I feel in my chest. Why I’ve clung to you for so long. It's why I can spend hours just staring at the way you talk, the way you smile, but also...the reason why I spend hours crying to myself in bed that we're not together.” His voice was soft and strained. [Name] stared at him with an overwhelmed expression.

“I love you so much.. that my heart hurts.”

“How long?”

Bum's eyes started to water as he couldn't find the strength to speak anymore. His words had failed him, so instead he pulled her closer. The more contact she had with him, the less pressure on his chest. His lips were inches away from her neck.

“Bum, for how long..?!”

At that moment in time, Bum didn't care for anything else. He wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in her embrace. If this is where he would finally be rejected—the final nail on his coffin, he would at least get to do this—Bum pulled [Name] towards him and planted a gentle kiss on her neck. She was all he lived for; her love was all he needed.

[Name] pulled him back, her hands holding firmly onto the ball of his shoulders, “How long has this been going on?” Bum's lips parted from her neck. “Ten years..” his voice timidly confessed.

“You’re telling me… you’ve been suffering like this for ten years..?”

If Bum had just told her from the beginning, he could've spared himself from agonizing for 10 long years. But, he didn't want to risk the rejection—the mere thought of [Name] leaving him hurt even more. Bum pressed his cheek against the side of her neck again, his nose nudging her skin as if it could find an ounce of comfort in it. [Name] pulled him back again, gripping the sides of his face, “Why?? Why did you not tell me?”

For the first time, Bum raised his voice. His emotions were getting the better of him, and he didn't care about keeping this a secret anymore. If he could scream his feelings from the rooftops, he would. “Because I can’t stand the thought of you looking at me differently!” Everyone else thought he was a waste of space—a freak. But not [Name]. Not the girl who grew alongside him and stuck by him all these years, despite contrary advice.

Bum's desperation was as real as his words. Tears started to fall, rolling down his cheeks. [Name] sighed, loosening her hold. “…What can I do to help?” Bum's eyes widened. He felt like crying, laughing, screaming of joy. There was only one thing he wanted.

“Love me.”

[Name] blinked. Without hesitation, she kissed him. It was almost instinctual when Bum parted his lips in response. He couldn't help but moan as [Name] introduced her tongue, tasting the blood in his mouth. This was love, this was love..!

All of Bum's pain was erased with a few moments of her kiss. Those intense months of discomfort and aches, amounting to this—tasting [Name]’s love. She backed him into the wall, pulling away shortly after. [Name] slid down to her knees, “I’ll take care of you.” Her hands went to the waistband of his pants, pulling at it.

Bum's eyes widened like saucers, an intense blush settling on his cheeks. This wasn't at all what he was expecting, but his face couldn't hide his excitement and his body certainly didn't protest. He was almost too excited for words, but that didn't stop him.

“...[Name]...”

Once his pants were down at his ankles, [Name] kissed his thigh gently. A soft moan escaped his lips as he watched her free his erection.

“Why did you allow yourself to suffer for so long..?”

Bum's breath staggered at her question, but his body remained still, wringing his hands in embarrassment. “I just...couldn't...ever ask.” His voice was low but as [Name] continued her ministrations, his breathing became more erratic. Her mouth enveloped him and the warmth nearly made Bum buck his entire cock down her throat; it took a lot of restraint not to come quickly, as well. Her hands squeezed the tender skin of his pale thighs. The sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Bum tilted his head back in pleasure. He was losing himself in this explosion of pleasure.

[Name] pulled away, her lips a bit swollen and mouth filled with Bum’s seed. She swallowed most of it as she stood again, facing Bum’s love struck face.

“I love you…”

[Name] was a bit taken aback when he pulled her in for a kiss, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Soon, their kiss was mixed with saliva, semen, and blood. His tongue explored her mouth, taking in every taste. A mix of sweet, salty and a hint of iron that was a reminder of his condition. His eyes remained half-lidded but his gaze was focused on you.

“I love you.”

He needed to say it again, to repeat it as many times as he had to. “I know.” Their kisses ended up taking them to his bed—well, the dirty mattress he had on the floor of his ratty room. Bum only wished this could’ve been at a nicer place, like [Name] deserved. Another part of him was elated. This meant that [Name] truly cared for him, right? Skinny and poor as he was, she was touching him fervently.

Bum's love was a deep, intense feeling that wasn't always easy to express in words. But his caress, his eyes, could all express them easily. Clothes were discarded quickly; [Name] straddled Bum as she threw her shirt and sweater to the side, revealing her breasts. They stared at each other, taking in the naked flesh and imprinting it to memory.

“Ngh..”

[Name] grasped his cock with one hand, aligning it with her entrance before sinking in completely, drawing out a cacophony of moans from both. Bum's grip grew tighter, and his breaths became rapid. He didn't want this moment to end. “Please…” he couldn’t think clearly with [Name] bouncing on his cock with ardor. Her hips moved slower after he spurted ropes of cum into her womb, leaning down to bite his neck and sucking on the flesh whilst her fingers pinched his nipples. “Aaah..!”

Bum's voice was low, strained with the waves of pleasure that took over his body. Her name slipped out of him in between desperate breaths. [Name] caressed his hair gently, pushing out a few strands that had become stuck to his forehead, before kissing it. Bum’s breath was ragged, his body trembling as it reached its breaking point.

Afterwards, they headed to the dingy shower to take a bath and cleanse themselves of the sweat and release. The bathtub had barely enough space for both of them to fit. [Name] sat in front of him, staring pensively. This reminded her of their time as children. Their mothers were best friends, inseparable. Bum and [Name], born in the same year, months within each other, were each other’s company out of the womb. When they were babies, their mothers would bathe them together, wishing their children would become best friends like they were, or closer.

[Name]’s eyes analyzed Bum, searching for any sign of distress. She felt a pang in her chest at the thought of him suffering due to her ignorance. And then she wondered if this is how he felt every time. Bum rested against the side of the tub, drifting sleepily but his eyes fluttering open to look at her. A hand reached out to caress her hair, his fingers moving through the strands of her wet hair with a calmness that made his heart flutter with joy. “Will it stop now..?”

Oh. That. He’d almost forgotten about his illness from how happy he was. “There’ll still be some symptoms…,” Bum whispered, “My lungs will be weak for a while. Sometimes I'll spit up daffodils…”

“But you won’t die right?” [Name] pressed, leaning forward a little, worried. Bum felt giddy at her concern. She cared for him. Even as children, despite being the younger of the two, [Name] always had a protective streak when it came to him. He smiled boyishly at her question. “A-As long as you love me, I'll be fine…”

He bit his lip, wondering if it was okay to be selfish. Bum didn’t want [Name] to be with anyone other than him. “Promise you'll stay with me? I don't ever want to be separated from you again.” He said desperately. More than anything, he wanted to keep her. “Mn.” [Name] agreed without reproach, leaning over to kiss him, first gently and then passionately. Bum eagerly returned her affection. He moaned as he felt the kiss end, his mouth tasting her sweetness and his breath catching with excitement.

“More, please....”

He begged, not wanting this moment to end and to lose the taste of her affection. [Name] tried to maneuver her body on top of his but the space was cramped. With an annoyed grunt, she shifted to be on her knees, hands holding to the edges of the tub. “Let’s just do it like this..”

“O-Okay..” In all honesty, he would’ve preferred to see her face but Bum wasn’t about to turn down any opportunity to touch [Name]. His hands found their way to her hips.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he whined.

“I won’t.”

As soon as he entered, he came. Despite being the one inside her; Bum felt that [Name] was the one making an empty man like him feel so full. “Bum..” she complained at his quick orgasm. He was a bit embarrassed, “I couldn't last long with you if I tried…” His breathing was slow and ragged, eyes glued on her back so that every curve she had was visible to him and only him. Bum could feel her wet body against his. His movements were a clumsy attempt at proving his love. His hands caressed [Name], every touch sending butterflies through his stomach. It all felt like a dream, one that he never wanted to wake up from. Yoon Bum was just a man. A boring man, with a disease that was a burden, to him and her—yet she still loved him. She made him feel special—worthy of love. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to say how he felt. He could never feel this way towards anyone else. Being inside [Name] was the closest he could get at becoming one.

“I love you so much…”

“Ngh… I love you.. “ she breathed.

The feeling of her body against his was unlike anything else he'd ever felt, and he just wanted it to keep going forever. Bum, obsessive in his thoughts, kept repeating softly, “Please never leave me, [Name]...”

[nervousd]

BEING HIS BETROTHED

━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

#SYNOPSIS— being the betrothed of ao’nung isn’t easy. What happens if he finds out a forest boy caught your attention?

#WARNING(S)— jealousy, possessiveness, implications of unrequited love, yandere(?)

#CHARACTER(S)— ao’nung, Neteyam

An agreement between two prominent families promised their children to become lifelong mates. Thus you were betrothed to ao’nung since you were a child. Raised alongside each other, ao’nung had understood the role he was born with. He grasped onto these truths quicker than you did. You were to be his mate, the mother of his children, his future Tsahik. He had accepted that. Overjoyed even— he was thrilled to have you as his mate. He boasted about it to anyone he would encounter. How gorgeous you were— how kind and how perfect you are to him. The perfect mated couple.

But such expectations were burdening on your shoulder. To being the perfect match was to also being the perfect Tsahik for the clan. Every choice was judged by others— if you were far too childish, far too mature etc. It was tiring— draining even. At one point you began to resent Ao’nung. It was his fault— all these burdens on your shoulder were because of him.

Your life was planned out because of this betrothed. It was dull and boring— however that all changed when an Omatikaya family had landed on the beach asking for uturu. By the orders of the Olo’eyktan they were to be accepted like one of the people. To teach them the ways of the metkayina— you were tasked to teach the family of Toruk Makto. Unlike your betrothed you were ecstatic to teach them. It wasn’t every day you would personally teach the family of Toruk Makto.

You had gotten close with the oldest sully boy— Neteyam. He was different— he was kind, and oh— he was wonderful. You had grown to harbor a crush on the boy, likewise he held feelings for you. There was no use in hiding your feelings for each other when they were clear as the ocean. Obvious to anyone with eyes— with the way you both looked at each other. You would giggle at his remarks, batting your eyelashes at him, sneaking off at midnight to meet him in secret. But no matter how secretive the two of you were, someone was bound to notice. It was Ao’nung, he was skeptical with the relationship you had with Neteyam. At first he believed the two of you were nothing but friends, much to his annoyance. But it was only until later that he realized the longing looks and small caresses.

He was furious— enraged even. To think you would even entertain the idea of being the outcast mate— of allowing the forest boy to even have a silver of hope to be by your side. When it was him— him that could only be with you. He is your betrothed and you are to be his Tsahik. It pained him to see you be interested in someone else other than him. He confronted you about your relationship with neteyam, lashing at you in anger.

How dare the outcast even dream of having you? This never would of happened if you mated with him but he withheld the consummating, claiming that the both of you decided to take things slow. But now— he wasn’t so hospital with his decision. Ignoring your cries he dragged you towards his family hut. There he spoke to his parents in consummating your relationship, how it’s finally time for the two families to be brought together. His parents we’re ecstatic of the news— your betrothal with their son has lasted much longer than they thought

The consummating between the chiefs son and his betrothed was to be announced tomorrow. You were bombarded with congratulations and smiling faces— no matter how much you protested it was done. You would be bonded with Ao’nung— your fate was sealed.

[sapphicantics]

Don’t Want Another Lover

Pairing: Janis Imi’ike x fem!reader

Summary: Janis ditches a blind date you’d spent helping her prepare for and you confront her at a party to find out why.

Contents: best friends to lovers trope, pining!Janis, talks of unrequited love, Janis is constantly talking about being alone,

Word count: 1.4K

Authors note: This was not supposed to be the next fic I posted but Towa put me in a chokehold with her song and I’ve spent all weekend working on this so here we are. Also imma say this now, I guarantee you guys are gonna get tired of me because the amount of fics running through my head inspired by this song is fucking ridiculous but we’ll see if I actually stick with them and they’ll come out. If you haven’t already, listen to the song down below.

— — — —

Janis Imi’ike can’t believe she let herself be talked into this again.

The this in question is yet another date her best friends somehow convinced her to go on with a girl they’re sure she’ll like because she needs to put herself out there if she ever wants to get a girlfriend. Janis had scoffed at this because Damian doesn’t even like girls so what would he know about getting a girlfriend.

Still, she agreed if only to get over this ridiculous crush she has.

Except getting over her crush is damn near impossible when said crush is also one of her best friends who originally started this whole ‘get Janis a girlfriend’ thing in the first place and is currently helping her get ready for date number whatever.

“Where are you guys going for your date again?”

Janis looks up from her sketchbook, watching you rummage around in her closet. You’re dressed in a white crop top and a pair of black cargo sweatpants that are hanging low on your hips, and Janis can’t stop her eyes from tracing over the skin on display.

“Janis?”

Janis wonders if your skin is as sensitive as it looks; if a single finger would have goosebumps raising on your flesh.

“Janis?”

Janis wonders how it would feel to press kisses along your skin; how many kisses it’d take to make you melt and turn you to putty in her hands.

“Janis!”

She jumps, her eyes shooting up to yours. “What? Sorry, I- I didn’t hear what you said.”

You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement. “I asked where you were going for your date.”

“Oh, uh,” Janis licks her lips in thought as she tries to remember exactly where she’s supposed to be meeting this date, Laura she thinks this one’s name is, and what they were supposed to be doing. “We’re going to an art museum.”

You nod and turn back to her closet, rummaging around for a few more moments before emerging with several items in hand. You toss them all on the bed and tug Janis up by her arm, and she has to bite back a groan as she prepares to be turned into a human mannequin.

If it was anyone else, she would’ve snatched her arm away already, but Janis has never been able to deny you anything, so she stands in place while you hold up different articles of clothing until you’ve seemingly decided on the perfect outfit for her; leaving the accessories and makeup to complete the look up to her.

She turns to you once she’s finished and her breath hitches as you reach up and adjust the necklaces around her neck, your fingers tracing lightly on her skin and it takes everything in Janis to fight back the sigh of content that so desperately wants to escape her lips.

She’s done such a good job hiding her feelings from you and she can’t reveal them now. She’s already had several close calls before and she can’t risk destroying her friendship with you over feelings you’ll never return.

No matter how much Janis wishes it was different, she knows the way you’re smoothing down her shirt and brushing off her shoulders is purely platonic.

“You look beautiful.”

Janis blinks her eyes open, unsure when exactly she closed them, and she gulps at the bright smile on your face.

You seem more excited about this date than her and you’re not even the one going on it. She wonders if you’d look that excited if you were going on this date, and her heart clenches in response because she knows you wouldn’t be going with her.

She pushes back how much that thought hurts and instead gives you a smile. “Thank you, it’s all thanks to you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jay, you’re always beautiful. The most beautiful girl in the world.”

Janis swears she’s going to fucking combust if another compliment falls from your mouth and she has to act like it doesn’t mean anything to her when it means absolutely everything to her.

She can practically hear Damian’s voice in her head calling her hopeless — which she is, but she doesn’t need his two cents even if he isn’t here to actually give it.

Thankfully (or maybe not depending on how she looks at it), she doesn’t have to dwell on that too much longer because it’s time for her to leave if she wants to make her date on time — which she totally didn’t forget about until just now — and while she’d much rather stay here with you, she’s not rude enough to bail 15 minutes before the initial meetup.

“Have fun, Jay,” you call. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

-

Admittedly, the date is nice and Janis does vibe with Laura, but she ends up cutting the date short because she keeps picturing you in Lauras’ place instead and that’s not fair to anyone.

She does not tell you that, of course.

She’s actually been avoiding telling you anything about the date which is only making you suspicious about all the things that could’ve happened and made Janis shut down on you like this.

It all comes to a head at a party which you convinced Janis ( and invited Damian because that man needs no convincing when it comes to parties ) to come to and got ample amounts of alcohol in your system.

You end up stealing Janis away from her corner where she’s spent majority of the time glaring at anyone who isn’t you or Damian attempting to talk to her and drag her into an empty room upstairs away from the party.

You’re not tipsy, but you’re also not drunk enough to where you can’t consent to anything or will forget about tonight.

Janis knows this as she’s gotten drunk with you multiple times and she knows you get bold when you’re like this, but she still doesn’t expect the words that come out of your mouth once the door closes behind you.

“Janis, what the fuck?”

Pure confusion laces her face, but you continue before she can say anything.

“I just ran into Laura and she told me you dipped out in the middle of the date.”

“Damian called me, said he was having an emergency.”

Janis can’t seem to deny you anything, but lying to you is apparently really easy. Of course, she’s lying to keep you in her life so that’s probably why it’s so easy.

“Bullshit, Imi’ike,” you scoff. “You’ve been crying about wanting a girlfriend, doing absolutely fuck all to get one, and then you keep accepting to go on these dates I’m setting up for you that are going absolutely no where, for what reason?”

Janis has the decency to look guilty, but in her defense she never asked you to do any of that. She was perfectly content to remain single and alone for the rest of her life while everyone else in her life got to fall in love and find their happy endings.

It fucking hurts that she won’t get hers.

And that combined with the alcohol in her system seems to be enough to make the truth finally come out.

“I don’t want a fucking girlfriend, I want you as my girlfriend!”

Silence falls between the two of you and Janis takes the time to process what she’s said.

Fuck.

Janis decides she fucking hates Tequila and is never going to drink again. It’s cost her a 6+ year friendship and Janis swears when she’s older she’s absolutely going to destroy Tequila manufacturers for this.

“Say it again.”

She can’t believe you’d actually be this cruel to her.

( Somewhere in the back of her head, Janis can hear a voice that is fed up with her shit calling her an idiot and a useless fucking lesbian.

It’s Damian again, she’s sure, and she wishes he’d stop popping up in her head at these times. )

“Janis, please say it again,” you whisper. “Say it again so I know it’s real and not in my head this time.”

It takes a moment for the words to register in Janis’ head and there’s a slither of hope in her heart as she stares at you. Slowly, she releases a breath and speaks. “I want you as my girlfriend.”

“Then kiss me and prove it.”

“Are you sure?”

You place your hands on her neck and her hands fall to your hips, pulling you flush against her. Your lips are inches from hers, breaths mingling together, and if she moves the slightest bit, she’ll kiss you.

“Positive.”

But that’s what you want.

And well, when has Janis ever been able to deny you anything?

[wantingsobad]

heaven and back | l.mh + h.js | (a,f)

masterlist

pairing: lee minho x han jisung x reader (y/n)

content: angst, fluff, unrequited feelings, college-aged, mainly just a silly y/n who is going through it rn.

word count: 2.6 k

Thursdays.

If there was one thing you could say about Thursdays, it is that they are the pure feeling of going to hell and back.

Actually, scratch that. You haven't even been able to come back from this hell of a day.

Nothing had helped. Even when buying coffee in the hopes of lifting your spirits, it had been extremely too bitter and ruined the entire drink. The attempt to get a nice walk outside during your lunch break had only left you caught in a rainstorm with no protection from the harsh elements. The walk back to your next classes should have been considered a walk of shame from the stares of your fellow classmates and your pure embarrassment of not checking the weather.

The one bright side of today is that you can now finally go home.

No more dreadful professors giving useless monologues or ignorant students on campus bumping into you when trying to leave class.

Just a nice, calm, soothing night left to enjoy by yourself--

***buzz buzz buzz***

On second thought, you might actually lose your mind before the night is over.

You take out your phone from your back pant pocket as you make your way up the stairs of your dorm building, hoping that whoever texted is either dying or needing immediate assistance (both of which you doubt are true as it could very well just be Felix blowing up your phone for the 6th time this week, asking if you would finally let him teach you how to play League of Legends).

~

ji ji ji ji baby baby : tell me you aren't busy tonight. minho and i ordered too much food to the dorm for the two of us to eat by ourselves... please come over? ���

~

Oh, nevermind.

I guess this text isn't as horrible as you thought it would be.

I mean yes, you could very easily just get into bed and sleep off the last torturous 9 hours of your life as you have dreamed of doing all day.

or....

You could definitely take up Jisung's offer of eating some free food while also being able to hang out with the two men who you are absolutely infatuated with.

Yes, it's a bit of strong of a term to use when referring to two men (yuck) but it's just the truth. From the day of college orientation three years ago, when your childhood friend, Hyunjin, introduced a few of his closest friends to you (Minho and Jisung included), you have been a strong group of 9 since.

All of the boys are nice, but Minho and Jisung just happen to be the ones who have kept your attention since the first day of meeting them. From their adorable dynamic to their love for their friends, there is no reason to prevent anyone from falling in love with both of them...

other than the fact that they are already dating eachother.

Logically, it's impractical. You are the third-wheeling, pining over two men who already exclusively pine over eachother. If anything it's so damaging for you to be so close to them while having these feelings, but can anyone really say no to Jisung when he asks so sweetly.

~

y/n : for sure, ji! i can be there in 15 minutes, if thats okay?

~

You scratch your forehead a little while waiting for a response, wondering what you should change into before heading over there. Obviously something comfortable, but also maybe something a little nice so that they could be impressed or-- no.

They are dating. Stop. You are just friends. No romantic opportunities, unless you feel like home-wrecking your two bestfriends (probably not the best option).

~

ji ji ji ji baby baby : yea that works for me and min! just lmk when you are here and i'll come get you from the front of the building.

~

And cue the stomach butterflies.

You know how to get to their dorm from the front of the building, but every time Jisung insists on coming to get you from the front door. It's such a little gesture, but it never fails to get your heart beating and you checks burning.

It takes you a few minutes before you are finally back out of your dorm, taking your time to pick an outfit, fix your hair, and retouch your makeup after the rainstorm that you struggled through earlier.

The walk to their dorm is pretty quick, only 7 minutes on a day with some good pep in your step (aka a day like today where you are practically running to their front door).

~

y/n : I'm here 😗

ji ji ji ji baby baby : omw, y/n! we need to eat before the food cools down too much. minho is getting hangry and I cannot handle him when he is hangry.

~

Jisung is downstairs in less than a minute, making it seem like he's the one who was practically running to see you. Or maybe that's just your mind trying to give in to your delusions...

"Y/N!" Jisung screams a little while picking you up into a hug, "I need us to get back upstairs quickly before Minho decides that he is tired of waiting for us."

You giggle a little at that statement, knowing that Minho would never start to eat without Jisung. He would not be able to handle the pout that would show on Jisung's face if he found out.

Thats when your heart pangs for the first time tonight, already feeling hopelessly doomed to be the third wheel before even seeing Minho.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~

Dinner is going by smoothly. The lo mein and miso soup that had been ordered by Jisung and Minho was a little odd considering you are the only one of the trio who eats lo mein, but you pushed that thought aside. The food was delicious nonetheless.

The pangs kept happening though.

When Jisung would stare at Minho with such adoration that you felt like a spectator on the sidelines of a romance show, rooting for the main characters to be together while simultaneously wishing that you were them. When Minho would get up from his seat to get something from the kitchen, having to pass by Jisung and giving him a loving pat on the head every time, causing Jisung to smile and spread a blush across his puffy cheeks.

It was getting to the point of pain where you had just needed to step out of dinner into the bathroom just to take a breather, convincing yourself that you can get over this and be able to just be best friends, nothing more.

breathe in, breathe out, in, out, in, ou-

"Y/n? Are you okay?"

It was Minho.

You hadn't really felt like you had been in the bathroom for too long to be concerning but a glance at your phone screen surprises you when you see that you had been standing there for over 15 minutes just trying to ground yourself.

A look up in the mirror is also a sudden surprise, seeing tears running down your face, leaving your makeup disheveled and streaking down your cheeks. When had you started crying? Probably sometime in between thinking about your horrid day to thinking about your pitiful love for two men who don't feel the same.

"Yeah-" sniffles "I'm all good Minho. Just-" sigh "Just give me a second and I'll be out..."

Just stop, y/n. You are not making this day better.

And then the door open a smidge. I guess you forgot to lock it.

Even though the door is barely open, it's still enough for Minho and Jisung to see your reflection in the adjacent mirror with the mascara tears running down your face.

The door is no longer open a smidge, being forcefully shoved open by Jisung as he pushes past Minho to get to you, engulfing you in a hug that only fuels the tears.

"Y/n... What's wrong? Please talk to us. Well, cry it all out first then talk to us". Jisung says while speaking into the side of your head, making you chuckle through the tears at his attempt to humor you in your times of turmoil. You wish you had a Jisung like this all of the time.

"You do have me, Y/n? What do you mean? I'm right here, so is Min."

Yikes. Nothing is going your way tonight. First, they see you sobbing. Next, you say your thoughts outloud.

This instantly humbles you and brings you back to where you are, immediately attempting to apologize for whatever you just muttered out of your mouth, "Ji- I mean- I know I have you, but like- I just- I wish I also had someone like you, you know. Like you and Minho". This was clearly such poor phrasing as you watch Jisung pull away to fully face you and give a little look of shock with confusion written across his features.

"What do you mean- Like me and Jisung? You want a boyfriend, y/n? Is that what this is about?" Minho announces this from behind Jisung, making you unable to see the slight look of hurt that flashes on his face.

You look up from where you had been looking at your feet, trading your eyes between looking at both Minho and Jisung. Your brain is being wrestled right now while trying to find the words to explain how you don't want just any boyfriend but the two boyfriends who were standing in front of you.

"Not that, exactly..." You finally manage to mutter out after bullying your mind to produce any answer to stop the two from looking at you with such concern and hurt for you. "I just can't explain my problems to you two..." You look away from the two boys, not being able to watch them as you try not to break down further.

"Y/n if this is something serious, you can talk to us..." MInho pipes up, Jisung grabbing your hand for reassurance, causing you to turn your head back toward them.

Your logical side seems to be taking over for the first time, in a long time, telling you to do what you know needs to be done for your own sake.

"I think I should take a break from seeing you guys..." You finally said it. The words you knew needed to come out eventually to allow yourself time to heal and get over this silly infatuation.

But, the look that you then saw on their faces might have just killed you right then and there. You don't think you have ever seen them both be so in sync with their expressions, synchronizing their faces of hurt and sadness in a way you didn't know you could hurt so much from.

"You.. What? Why?" Jisung asks, his voice cracking a little and letting go of your hand to step back towards Minho, allowing Minho to leave a comforting hand on Jisung's shoulder.

If you wanted to run away ever in your life or sink into a black hole, it would be now. The embarrassment of this whole situation and your reasoning behind why you need to do this just simply cannot be explained to them without ruining everything.

"Did we do something?" Minho asks with no faults in his voice, but a single look you take towards him shows that he really is trying to maintain his composure.

If there's anytime to say anything. It'd be now. Your relationship is already changed. There's no going back.

"It's not you guys. It's me," You say while looking at both of them, powering through what you are about to say even with seeing their heartbroken faces, "I just cannot do this anymore. Being around you two all of the time is so painful because you guys are just so happy and in love, and I would do anything to be like you. Not with other people..." Here it goes. "but with both of you. I cannot handle being around you guys while I am helplessly in love with you both. Just give me some time, and I know I can get over this..."

Well. There it is.

You finally said what has been torturing you for years, laying it all out on a platter for Minho and Jisung to observe and pick apart.

But thats not the reaction you get from them when you check back in to register their facial expressions. It's bizarre. Minho looks almost relieved while Jisung looks.... happy? Where you missing something? Was this what they wanted to happen?

Before your thoughts can go any further, you are tossed into a hug between both Jisung and Minho, rocking you back and forth and holding you so tightly.

"Are you serious, Y/n? You actually had me so horrified I thought we were going to lose you" Jisung mutters into your shoulder.

You are still so incredibly confused as you manage to let out a quiet, "...What?..."

You are finally released from the grasp of the two hugging you to be faced toward Jisung, "Me too. I mean- like I am in love with you, too. So is Minho."

This information actually shatters any ability to function that you had left, only being able to repeat the word "Huh?!" while looking at Minho to confirm what Jisung said, to which Minho nods.

"We always have, Y/n. We just didn't really know what to do about this because you never told us anything or made it seem like this was mutual. I thought we would always be stuck as bestfriends." MInho says this so gently to you while reaching up one of his hands to cup the side of your face and caress your cheek so lightly with his thumb. I think this is the first time you have ever recognized Minho looking at you this way. It's the same way you notice him and Jisung look at each other everyday.

"You guys love me?..." You manage to get out while bringing up a hand to hold Minho's hand that is resting on your cheek. This is a surreal moment for you. What you have been fearing as the break in your relationship as a trio may actually be what causes your relationship to grow further, into....???

A nod comes from MInho, "Can I kiss you?" he asks ever so sweetly.

A simple nod is given in return, a silent conversation that you and him exchange in before he initiates the kiss.

It feels like a dream. Finally being able to feel his lips on your own after years of pining. By holding onto the back of his head, you keep him close to make sure that this is real, and he isn't leaving.

That then makes you think about Jisung, who's simply standing to the side, mouth agape and blushing across his entire face at the two people he loves kissing eachother. To Jisung, this is like a dream come true, but he does want some attention from you (casual Jisung behavior).

He tightly grabs ahold of your side, turning you away from Minho and guiding you towards his own lips. The moment you and him meet is as electric as it was with Minho.

The pangs in your heart are no longer from the pain of unrequited love, but now a pleasurable pain of an overwhelming love from those two boys who have captured your heart.

Maybe this day has finally had its come back from being a burning hell, reaching the sweet and blissful heavens that we all dream of.

a/n : ahh my first fic on here. I hope to only improve from here and I apologize for rushing the ending haha. lmk if anyone has any requests or ideas, i'm open to writing anything - eb

[earth616variant]

the send-off | s.r ; 4

summary | Being his best friend and assistant, Howard Stark asked you to be the first one to be tested on his time machine project. After some unexpected errors, you ended up stuck in the modern times of the 21st century. Where you meet the man you thought died years ago: Steve Rogers.

pairing/s | steve rogers x reader, avengers x reader

word count | 5k+

genres | angst, fluff, crack, time travel au, unrequited love au

warnings | mention of blood, idiots…

note | after months, here's a new update! finally found the inspiration to write again :)) I apologize for the long delay. anyway, let me know your thoughts on this one. enjoy reading!

series masterlist

 “Ugh… What to do? What to do?” you hummed.

It’s been days since your arrival in this era. And so far, everything is fine. Confusing but fine. You were still having nightmares that always woke you up. But you didn’t bother to tell anyone about it. It’s probably a normal reaction.

Since the superheroes in the compound have alternative schedules for their missions, you found yourself rubbing shoulders with whoever Avenger is in the compound. It’s obvious that they don’t want you to feel excluded and made it clear that they don’t mind you asking questions if you find something puzzling. 

You usually bond with the youngest one, Peter Parker, who is always around since he is, based on what he said, “a friendly neighborhood superhero”. It means that he doesn’t go out of the country, like Natasha or Steve, or even this state for a mission since he still has classes to attend and he explains that his aunt won’t let him go anywhere far and dangerous. Understandable, you thought. The kid is only sixteen. But for now, Peter is staying back with his aunt in their apartment while the others are on their missions. He has a schedule for staying between the compound and his aunt’s place. 

Clint is with his family, who you heard lived in this secret farmhouse. Tony is probably home too. You don’t really know. You kind of feel that he avoids being alone with you. Wanda is resting in her room. You don’t want to disturb her as you saw her coming home earlier, looking really exhausted. 

When he can, Steve also kept you company. Of course, you enjoyed talking to him about his life after the whole defrosting thing. But sometimes, you felt like a disturbance or a burden in his free time. You thought, maybe he just wants to rest. Perhaps he just feels bad for you. So, you try to not stay around him all the time if he’s home.

So, you really have nothing to do. You have books but you don’t feel like reading now. You have this novel that you liked so much, you just finished it today. The compound also has this large, flat television but you don’t feel like watching anything either. It’s not like you’re not used to being alone. You’re always alone before! But at least you have a job to take up all your time. With all this free time, you cannot help but miss doing something in the laboratory. Computing numbers or testing prototypes with Howard. You wondered if your best friend ever finished that flying car he kept on re-working. You figured, maybe not. You see that people in this modern time still use four-wheeled cars.

“Oh, hey, Doctor Y/N.”

Sometime in the afternoon, Bruce Banner went out to the kitchen to get himself something to drink. That is where he sees you, looking all bored and spacing out. You forced a smile at him and greeted him back,

“Hello, Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce. You can call me Bruce.” he smiled as he opened a can of rootbeer.

“Then, you can call me just by my name too,” you replied, tapping on the hardbound book you had with you. You tried not to be obvious as you examined his look. With his eyeglasses and white coat, you know he’s been working in his laboratory. 

After taking a sip from his drink, he spoke, “What are you up to in here, Y/N?”

Hearing that question, you instantly sighed heavily, making your shoulder slump, “Nothing really. I’ve been watching the paint dry, Bruce.”

Thankfully, the scientist caught on to your use of words. He chuckled before asking you, “Do you want to go to the lab?”

You swore you jumped from where you were sitting when Bruce said that. He took it as a yes and you two walked together back to his laboratory. Instantly, you were in awe of the place. There are screens and machinery everywhere. You don’t understand how these new gadgets work but you cannot wait to hear about them. This is like something you dreamed of.

“Here.”

Bruce handed you a white lab coat and you immediately grabbed it, wearing it excitedly. Damn, you missed wearing it. You stood next to him in front of his messy desk, which is pretty normal. Notes were everywhere. Even pens and crumpled papers. You’re starting to miss your own messy work table.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that,” Bruce spoke, referencing his desk.

You smiled, “It’s fine. It means you’re really working hard for something.”

Slipping your hands into the coat’s pockets, you wander around the spacious lab. You try to stop yourself from touching anything, fearing that you might mess something up. So like a little kid, your eyes just show your enthusiasm as you watch some type of liquid flow into a transparent tube.

“What are you working on?” you asked, turning your head to Bruce.

“Something that can help the world, hopefully.” he chuckled. He walked next to you, “It’s a serum that may help cancer patients.”

“That’s nice,” you whispered, eyes still distracted.

“Yeah. But it’s still an experiment. This is the first time I’m working on something like this again after I tried to recreate the super soldier serum.”

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, “You tried to recreate that serum?!”

Steve did not tell you about that. No one told you that someone in the compound tried to recreate it. You always wondered what Dr. Ernskine did to that serum since it seems very impossible to reproduce. But now that you’re in this modern era, people have more resources and findings. Maybe Bruce succeed.

Bruce stared back at you with a small smile, “It’s what brought me here, Y/N.”

“Cap. You okay?” 

Tony asked as soon as he made sure the auto-pilot was set on the plane. Instead of answering, Steve grunts while pressing a hand on the right side of his stomach. Blood was gushing out from the stab wound he got from this mission. Bucky, on the other hand, also earned bruises on his face and small cuts on his arm. The two admittedly underestimated this mission. They didn’t expect that a hundred members will show up in this cult-like mob they raided. Thankfully, Tony was able to answer an emergency call.

“Those guys really got you cornered. Whoever stabbed you would probably brag about the fact he got to stab Captain America. Too bad he died.” Tony quipped, trying to lighten the mood. He signaled to Bucky to pass him a bandage.

Steve listened with exhaustion running in his veins. He breathed out as he closed his eyes, leaning his head on the surface behind him.

“You know, you got to be more careful now…” Tony suddenly spoke, sounding a bit serious. Steve opened his eyes and look at his friend who was focused on cleaning his wound. It took minutes of silence– since Tony made sure that his wound won’t get infected– before he continued,  “You have a girlfriend waiting at home.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Tony,” Steve replied sternly.

His best friend still managed to chuckle at that. Steve groaned when Tony slightly applied pressure to his wound. Not that Steve doesn’t like the idea of you as his romantic partner, he just doesn’t want to tolerate this kind of teasing from his friends. They might get used to it and make you uncomfortable whenever you’re with him.

Tony rolled his eyes, “Okay, whatever. But my point is you are Y/N’s closest friend in the compound right now and I don’t think she will like seeing you come back like this. I mean, you already died before and Dad told me a lot of things that happened.”

Steve tilted his head quizzically. He looked at Bucky who shared the same expression on his face.

“What–”

“There.” Tony got up as if he didn’t just say something. He pointed at Bucky. “And you too, buddy. Bring more backup next time. Something worse could have happened. You’re lucky I’m just another country away for a presentation.”

He walked back to his seat as the pilot, ignoring the confusion and curiosity from the two a-decade-old super soldiers.

“That was your last memory?”

Bruce sat in front of you, typing on his laptop as you nodded an answer. A couple of hours after inviting you, you two ended up just chatting in his laboratory. Bruce told you about the time he recreated the supersoldier serum. You learned his history and how he joined this league of superhumans. He was open to sharing his struggle in accepting his power and learning to control himself from being Bruce and the Hulk.

After that, he ended up giving you a tour of his laboratory. You would share how a gadget you had before evolved into what he has now in these modern times. Your curiosity about these said gadgets made his offer to teach you whenever he can and you happily agreed. Although you’re still unsure if you’re staying here for the rest of your life, you think that it will be good to adapt in the meantime.

“The time machine…” your voice trailed off as you brought up the topic. “How did you and Tony make it?”

You’ve been wanting to ask someone about their version of a time machine here. But since Howard’s son was a bit distant, you get to talk about it with Bruce now.

Bruce shakes his head, “It was unsuccessful.”

“It brought me here.” you countered, pursing your lips.

The air around you two was suddenly all serious and Bruce feels it. You were just wondering how they built their time machine. How did they make it work? It was seemingly more successful than Howard’s. Was it because of the current and upgraded technologies? Did they use different formulas than Howard? Did they make their own original version that was way different than what you and your best friend worked on in the past?

 

Bruce looked at you for seconds like he was contemplating if he should tell you. Then, he exhaled, removing his glasses.

“Tony brought the blueprint and basically the whole plan for it months ago. He said he found it when he was digging up in his dad’s office in their old house.”

“Wait.” your eyebrows scrunched together as you paused. You take your time processing his answer. You made sure you understood it by saying, “So… it was originally Howard’s… The blueprint for it?”

He nods, “Yes, Tony found it along with other plans his dad never worked on. We just used other materials than the outdated ones...”

You didn’t really listen to the rest of his words when you heard the first sentence. Your eyes stared at some space. Never worked on? He means, Howard made this plan and never worked on it? Does it mean that if your best friend just worked it, you could have been back earlier than this era? Your hand slowly pressed a hand on your chest and you felt your heartbeat getting quicker Bruce quickly noticed it and you looked up at him with your eyes screaming in confusion and surprise, hurt.

“When did Howard plan it?” you asked. Your voice was weak and you almost said it in a whisper.

Although confused, Bruce replied, “1977. It was written on the bottom of the blueprint.”

Your brain was quick in computing it. It was thirty years after your disappearance. You feel like shaking as you blinked away the tears that were blurring your sight.

“W-Where can I find this blueprint? I want to see it.”

The change in your tone and expression made Bruce ask, “Y/N, are you okay–”

“Where?” you asked again instead of answering.

“Uh, Tony has it.”

You ran your palms all over your face, calming yourself down. You breathe out. You knew you had to stop yourself from crying as you cannot stand doing it again.  It’s pointless. You’ve been tearing up ever since you came here and you have never been this vulnerable. You don’t like it. Before Bruce can repeat a word, you sighed heavily.

“I’m sorry,” you said, shaking your head. “I… I was just surprised Howard planned on building another time machine and never made a move on it.”

Bruce hummed quietly and replied, “It’s fine… Everything must have been a lot to you.”

You chuckled, trying to lighten up the atmosphere, “Yeah, it’s a real bummer and I think it makes me blow a fuse really easily. I swear I was never this emotional.”

If he did it, would I have come back earlier?

The question floats in your head as you set your eyes on the quiet lake just outside the compound. You pulled your knees closer to your chest and rested your chin on your knees. The sky was already dimming down as the sun already set. Nature was quiet and the only loud thing was your brain with all these questions you were asking yourself.

There was a part of you who wished you shouldn’t have just asked Bruce. Maybe you wouldn’t feel this way. But you were always curious about things, so you asked. And here you are, having this moment. As if knowing about Howard’s plans is not enough, you still had thoughts if you can ask Tony about it. You let out an exasperated, hopeless exhale. Maybe not.

“Dr. Y/N!”

You snapped out of your deep thoughts when you heard your name. Turning your head to your side, you spotted Peter approaching with a smile on his face. He waved his hand, and your lips form a small smile.

“Hey… I thought you were staying with your aunt tonight?”

He sat beside you on the green grass, “I’m just staying here until nine. Then, I’ll go back home. I dropped by to see if you’re baking tonight.”

You giggled, “Well, today’s not your lucky day, kid. But I think we still have a few brownies in the jar from the other day.”

“I checked. It’s already empty.” he feigned disappointment, holding his chest, and you two chuckled. “How was your day here, doc?”

“Boring. I haven’t really done much. Bruce saw me in the kitchen earlier and invited me to his lab. I just miss doing something again.“ you confessed with a hint of frustration in your tone. “How about you, kid?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Eh, just school. I and my friend Ned ended up in detention because he cannot stop talking about this new movie during chemistry class. Then, our other friend, MJ joined us since she said she enjoys going to detention. We planned to eat something after but MJ has a part-time job to go to.” Peter shared and you feel that he was pretty satisfied with how his day went.

“Well, at least one of us got to bond with their friends,” you scoffed. “I have to get used to my friends being superheroes.”

“They are usually busy, aren’t they?”

You nod, “Yeah. It actually made me feel jobless.”

You two laughed at that. You resumed, “I can’t believe I finished two books in a short period– Speaking of books, I was wondering if you could lend me a hand.”

“For what?”

“Oh, you know that novel I’ve been reading these past few days?”

“Ah, the one with the whole time machine plot too?”

“Yes. I… I really loved the book. Is there any way I can reach out to the author? Maybe write them a letter? I just really want to let them know that it’s a good story.”

Maybe it’s because of a lot of free time on your hand. But you just really adored the plot and the novel itself. You found it in the new releases section of the bookstore you went to days ago. But the story was set around your time, in the 40s, and mainly revolved around time traveling, which initially pulled you into buying it. It was accurate by the era it was in, and it made you feel closer to where you came from. Now, you just finished it and it was beautiful even though it was left on a cliffhanger. It causes you something to look forward to.  

“We can try to reach out. Maybe they have e-mail. It’s faster than sending them written letters.” Peter suggests.

You cocked an eyebrow, “What’s an email?”

“Oh, it’s electronic mail. It’s like the modern type of exchanging letters with other people. Instead of asking for the person’s home address, they can just give you their email address. Then, you can send them a message with the computer or cellphone.” he explains and you nod.

“How about your laptop?”

He nods, “Yeah, we can also use that.”

You two ended up walking back to the compound. Peter helped you with creating your own e-mail address and typing your message to the author. You wanted to learn and get used to with using this gadget so you offered to type yourself. He was patient enough to teach you with the keys on the keyboard as you type. 

“So, it automatically saves itself as a draft?”

You moved the cursor on the screen as you glided your index finger on the touchpad of his laptop. It wasn’t a long message but it was genuine. You re-read the whole thing again before passing the laptop to Peter.

“Yeah, what’s the name of the author again?” the boy asked before opening a new tab in the browser.

“Oh, wait…” you reached for the book and read the huge, bold name written on the front cover. “It’s… Donald S. Burton.”

“Okay, we can look for his website. Maybe he has his contacts there.”

His voice trailed off when he began typing on the search bar. It never fails to amaze you how fast this thing can give you answers. It’s like all of the books in the library were compiled into this gadget. Peter input the name and a list of information about Donald S. Burton showed up. There were even images of the man. You cannot help but smile when the old guy reminds you of someone familiar.

“Here is his email!“

“I like these. What are these again?” 

Steve smiled at your curiosity, “Chicken nuggets.”

“Okay. Chicken nuggets,” you repeated. “I wished we had these in our time. I love these and these sauces. And of course, this sundae!” you exclaimed before taking a scoop with the tiny spoon.

Just a couple of days after you talked with Bruce in the lab and sent an e-mail with Peter’s help, you found yourself having a picnic with Steve just around the city. It was a quiet park in the busy city. It was a Tuesday so there were fewer people in the place. He invited you with it after he got home from his mission.

“Should I bake or make something?” you asked him.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll be ordering food on the way to the park,” he replied.

“Are the others coming too?” you asked again.

He shook his head, “I… didn’t ask them.”

“Why didn’t you ask them?” you raised an eyebrow. 

Steve seemed to be caught off guard. Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and Peter, who were also in the living room when you asked, smirked and looked at each other knowingly when they saw their leader’s frozen reaction. He stood there awkwardly with his hands on his hips. Natasha was the first to break the silence.

“I’ll be training,” she said.

The others caught on to it and spew their reasons too. Peter chimed in, “I have a ton of homework to do, Doc.”

“I’m visiting my sister in Louisiana,” Sam explained with a scoff. That made you squint your eyes at him. Then you looked at Bucky, waiting for his reason. He seemed frozen like the gears in his head is turning.

“I… uhm… I’m…”

“He’ll help me with training.” Nat saved him. “We’ll do some planning with the next mission.”

So that’s how you and Steve ended up alone on this picnic, which you don’t mind. You had a fun ride going here. He lets you play songs by connecting your rarely-used phone to the car’s stereo.

“How did you learn about that song?” he asked when American Pie played.

You smiled, “Natasha. I heard it from her.”

You ordered food from a fast food chain through a drive-thru. It was exciting as Steve ordered meals you didn’t try before. When you arrived at the peaceful park, you insist on helping him with bringing stuff. He just made you bring the blanket while he carries all the other things. When you found a perfect spot, you laid the gingham blanket on the green grass. You sat comfortably in your casual floral dress before you two began eating.

“Thank you for this, Steve.” you smiled.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for coming with me. I haven’t been on a picnic with someone for a while.” he said.

“You know, before I got in the time machine, I went picnic with my neighbors.” you shared, remembering that day with the Smiths.

“Mr. and Mrs. Jones?!” he asked with surprise.

Your ears perked when you heard that. The Jones were your neighbors before the Smiths. They are the last ones Steve knew since he and Bucky would sometimes fetch you if you were hanging out somewhere. The said couple was a bit grumpy, to be honest. They can hear even the smallest noise you would make in your apartment and would always let you know they don’t like it. 

“Oh, no. They moved out months after you disappeared. Another family occupied their space. Susan and Robert Smith. They have this little kid named Donny. They are much nicer.” you joked.

“Well, that’s nice. I missed a lot of things while on ice.” 

“It was only two years, Steve. Nothing much happened.” you snorted, finishing your sundae.

“A lot of things can happen. I know Howard found the Tesseract while searching for me on the ice… Share some things that happened in those two years.” 

“Okay…” you exhaled. “I bet you already know that they tried making a series after Captain America vanished. You became an icon. Have you seen it?”

You laughed when you saw Steve hissed, “I didn’t like it.”

“Yeah, it was bad.” you cracked up. You only watched that once. You don’t like how they painted Peggy into a character named Betty who was always a damsel in distress. Peggy had complained about it too.

“Anyway, we– Howard and I– tried for like a year to search for you. But he would usually be the one to go on sites and I would always try to come with him. He needs more convincing but it always works.”

Howard often says that going in the field can be dangerous and you would fight back over and over again. You were glad you did because you were with them when they found the Tesseract.

“What convincing did you do?”

“Well, I would say that I’m his assistant. My job is technically following him around. Then when he says no, I’ll say that I am his best friend. I still do have my last reason if he denies me of coming with him.” you said.

“And what is it?”

You paused and just stared at him. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hmmed. It was like you were thinking if you should tell him the last reason for Howard to let you go with him. Steve waits. He tried to be comfortable as he leaned back with his arms resting behind him. He hoped he doesn’t look much curious or nosy. After what felt like an eternity, you spoke.

“It’s… It’s that I am the last one you spoke to while you were on that plane.” 

You looked away from him, avoiding his gaze. You tried to just look at the trees and people from the distance than just look at Steve. Your chest felt heavier when you remembered that time Steve fought that skull and had control of that plane. Steve didn’t say a word so you continued to explain more, just to get it off your chest.

“It would always work since he fully knows that I have guilt living in my system after the country lost you.” you chuckled bitterly. “I felt awfully bad that I cannot do anything to help you during that situation.”

When your voice shook uncontrollably in the last words of your sentence, Steve sat back up and you can see the sympathy in his blue eyes. He reached out for your resting hand, instantly caging it in his warm hands.

“Y/N… none of it was your fault. It was already a dead-end situation. I was the one who chose to crash it.” he tried to reassure you.

“I know, I know,” you mumbled, tears slipping from your eyes. “But I cannot stand losing another person in my life that time, Steve.”

Your tearful eyes met his concerned ones. “We just lost Barnes earlier that year. And I really just can’t lose you… I tried to think of something. Howard was in the same room while I was talking to you on the phone. We tried to make a plan but we don’t have any idea where the hell the plane was and it was moving really fast. It was really bad. I felt helpless. I thought I might have been able to do something to help you but we have no time. I hate that all I can do is talk to you on the phone, hoping that you won’t feel alone, while I prayed silently for some miracle to happen. And it was crazy because  I don’t even remember the last time I prayed before that moment.”

By the time you finished talking, you were full-on sobbing. Your chest heaved and your cheeks were damp from your salty tears. Steve held your hand. His thumb drew circles on it as he lets you cry for more. And when he felt you calming down, he uttered:

“Staying in that call with me until the end was enough for me. I appreciate you for handling yourself very well and being calm with me that time. You are amazing. And you don’t know how relieved I am when I knew you were the one who answered the call. Thank you.” Steve said softly, offering a small smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “You already did much more you know for me that time.”

2/19/1945

Y/N arrived with puffy eyes today. I knew it before she even removed the black sunglasses she had on. I already told her the day before that she have the choice of not going to the laboratory today. But she still did. It was quiet the whole day in the lab. We both tried to act busy like nothing much happened. Due to the events of these past two weeks, I’ve been getting telephone calls from a lot of people. I chose to ignore them because I know it has something to do with Rogers’ disappearance and I’d been hearing they want to make the serum like Ernskine’s. I honestly think that it would be hard to “remake” Captain America ever again. She didn’t eat anything for the whole day even a cup of coffee. I insisted on walking her home, saying I have to borrow her old research about the future of computers. She said she’ll just bring it tomorrow but I said I need it urgently even though I really don’t. In fact, I have nothing to do with her research. I just had to make sure she’ll get home safe. I thought it was a good idea to just walk with her instead of asking Jarvis to drive us. But boy, I was wrong. The loss of the nation’s superhero is plastered all over the place. I tried distracting Y/N by telling her about the funny encounter I had with a girl months ago. I never told her about it before because I know she doesn’t like that I cannot commit to a single girl. But I have no more story to tell at the moment. It was a relief that she let out small laughs and smile at it. Although the smiles didn’t reach her eyes, I hope she felt better for a bit. She was about to say some advice or something when she suddenly froze. Her lips formed into a frown and I see tears forming in her eyes. I follow where her eyes lay and it was the newspapers. WE NEED A NEW CAPTAIN. The headline was printed in big, bold letters. Eye-catching. “They cannot just replace Steve like that.” It was a whisper from her. I hate that all I can do is sigh. Two minutes later, we reached her apartment. She handed me her research and thanked me. She smiled. But it was forced, I know.

As I am writing this letter, I am thinking of leaving this city with Y/N for a vacation somewhere away from here. I don’t know if she will like that. Maybe she won’t. Maybe I’ll just settle on walking her home with another made-up reason from the back of my head. I don’t know. I just feel helpless seeing her like this again after Barnes’ and now, Rogers’ death. Even so, I’ll always make sure that she will be alright.

H.S. 

Tony removed his eyeglasses as he finished reading. His index finger traces the handwritten words by his father, sighing in the process. He can hear his father’s voice with each word in it. 

“Tony, we need to go. We should fly at six!” Pepper’s voice cuts off his thoughts.

He stretched his limbs before replying, “Okay, honey. Just getting my glasses.” 

Tony stared at the page again for a second before closing his father’s journal. He slid it onto one of the drawers on his nightstand and left.

THE SEND-OFF TAGLIST

@supraveng @sunflower-golden-vol6 @curi0usc4t @caitlyn-who @bitchy-bi-trash @stilltoomuchafangirl @matisse556 @ladybug05 @sunwoahkim @meanttobea @j69confessional2 @thenyxsky @swthxrry @justab-eautifulmess @7minutes-tomidnight @curlycarley @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @wisepenguin @shatfairy @coffeeshub @stillthatbetch @cosmicgirls-things @mediocre-m @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @mrsjaderogers @themerc-with-a-mouth @slutdreams @royalwritersoftheuniverses @yunloyal @avengersinitiative2012 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @madnessinwrighting @lilizia @saintmagx @saranghaey @elmphoenix17 @animegirlgeeky @t-stark35 @ameliabs-world @seijaelee @sully-stick-together @capswife @katdahlali @avengersgirllorianna

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@rosedpetal

[hongcherry]

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 2

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (f)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + none? regular drama, cursing... lmk if i missed something tho!

🍒 WC: 12.4k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 💙

🍒 Author’s Note: Thank you for the support so far! This chapter is a little more chill compared to what's to come ^-^

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

Coming home to find your mother in the living room a few days later was not something you could have foreseen.

Her suitcases are by the front door, and her shoes are tossed in different directions. She and your father are in a heated argument; your sister is nowhere in sight.

“Oh, hi, dear,” your mother greets when she hears the door open. Her voice turns sweet, contrasting how it was a few seconds ago. She turns away from your dad, spreading her arms with a smile as if she wasn’t just yelling. Your father grabs one of her outstretched arms and pulls her back.

“You don’t get to hug her,” he hisses before looking at you. “To your room, Yn.”

“Where’s Seoah?” you wonder, ignoring his order.

“At a friend’s. Now, go to your room.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” your mother chimes in. Despite sounding defiant, she retracts her arms from you before she can even touch you. “How are you, sweetie?”

Your brain is whirling with confusion. You aren’t sure if you’re happy or annoyed she’s back. Her trips usually last for several months, maybe a year or two at most, but she always comes back. Sometimes you wish she didn’t. Her attendance never brings comfort, even if you want it to.

“I-I’m fine,” you answer. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s leaving,” your father says, pointing to the door as he looks at your mother. “Now.”

“Just let me stay for one night,” your mother pleads with her eyes on your dad. “I can find somewhere else tomorrow.”

Your dad glowers at her. “I’m tired of you treating this place like a hotel. If you wanted to stay, you shouldn’t have left.”

This conversation again.

Your parents are still married, perhaps because of the divorce cost or custody decisions, but it feels like it is an open marriage. Your mother never tells you if she has another partner, but some of her pictures from her trips are questionable at times. Additionally, your dad has never brought home anyone, but you won’t be surprised if he has gone out to find one. 

Well, you wouldn’t have been surprised in the past. However, the present is different. He is nose-deep in his work. He claims it’s because he is trying to provide for you and your sister, which you’re sure has some factor in it, but he’s also probably trying to distract himself from his own personal demons. You were never that close with him to begin with, and your relationship only worsened when your mother left. You know he cares, but not as much as you wish he does.

Their argument fades out as you stand staring at them. You doubt anything will get resolved. Taking in a sorrowful breath, you turn around and leave the house.

The café you usually visit is nearby. It’s the perfect place to study or hang out with friends, as the atmosphere is peaceful. The food is reasonably priced and not too bad as well.

You find a spot in the corner and settle down.

The sketches for your outfits are coming together. You planned to go to a fabric store later this week to pick out a few yards of fabric. Luckily, your college has collaborated with several stores around to provide the students participating in the show discounts. Most are generous discounts too.

Once you are done going over your sketches, you double-check your to-do list. Jeonghan and Minghao are making good progress with the promotional items. Music, on the other hand, is a little more difficult. You haven’t found the right sound yet, but you’ve scheduled a meeting with Jihoon soon.

You sit your iPad on the table and rest your head in your hands. This project is challenging you in ways you didn’t expect. You simply want to create clothes, not deal with all the tiny other details of a runway show. Thinking back to the start of it has you remembering what you’ve been through these past few months. 

You hate how much you think of Seungcheol at this moment. He has been the biggest surprise of them all.

He isn’t even helping you with your project, yet you have seen him so many times, he might as well be. You’re not sure when you started to tolerate his presence, but somewhere along the way, he grew to be one of the few people you wanted to see more.

And that corny nickname he gave you… Why does part of you like it? Damn, you wish you weren't thinking of him. Your thoughts of him are getting so bad. You can hear his voice—could hear that ridiculous laugh that makes you want to join in with him.

The contagious laugh is so prominent in your mind that you swear it’s right next to you.

Goodness. Even when he has no reason to be in your thoughts, he finds a way to squirm in. Or maybe you just find excuses to bring him in. Nevertheless, the latter is something you don’t want to admit to.

You regain focus on your iPad with the aim of distracting yourself. You’re about two minutes into sketching another outfit when he who should not be mentioned's voice sounds in your head again.

It’s so clear and getting louder. It’s repeating your name, spreading an odd warmth through your chest.

“Are you ignoring me?”

A hand touches your forearm, causing you to loosen your grip on your stylus. It rolls off the edge of the table into a person’s hand. Your gaze follows up the arm until it rests on their face.

Seungcheol chuckles at your startled expression.

“You okay, Cherry?” he asks with mirth.

Have you thought of him so much that you somehow manifested his presence? Irritated at the lack of control over your thoughts, you snatch the pen from his grasp. If only you could rein in your thoughts as well.

“What are you doing here?” you question, glancing behind his shoulder. For once, you don’t see his business clique. Your shoulders ease at this, not ever wanting to see them after what happened. The only person you see is a tall man with stunning features. He’s watching Seungcheol, so you guess they’re together.

Since your show project is never far from your mind, you take a mental note to ask him to be one of your models before he leaves.

“Just passing by,” he shrugs, then glances at your iPad. “That looks nice so far.”

Your gaze cast down at your sketch again. There is just a figure with a long, flowy skirt. Nothing extravagant.

“Thanks,” you reply slowly, but it sounds more like a question.

This time it’s his turn to ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Needed a different environment to work in,” you answer. It isn’t a lie, but you aren’t going to disclose why you need a different environment in the first place. Family drama is never a conversation you enjoy having. And you definitely aren’t going to have it with him. Even if you two are getting closer, he isn’t on Dae’s level of friendship.

“Ah,” he pauses and before he can say anything else, you speak up.

“Who’s your friend?”

Seungcheol peers over his shoulder as if he needs a reminder of who he’s with. “Mingyu.”

“You think you can bring him over?”

He snaps his eyes back to you; they’re slightly wide, briefly before narrowing. “Why? You’re going to try to seduce him?”

Are you just imagining the bitterness hidden behind his teasing tone?

“He is handsome,” you observe. You drift your attention to Mingyu. His dark hair is pushed behind his ears, a few strands hanging in front of his face. He wears a short-sleeved shirt that exposes his muscles. You hope he wasn’t asked to be someone else’s model already.

Seungcheol doesn’t seem amused by your response.

“Yeah? Get in line, Cherry. He gets a lot of people batting their eyelashes at him.”

“Is that why you hang out with him? You’re trying to get his leftovers?” A smirk grows on your face as you look back at him.

Seungcheol stares down at you with an unreadable expression. “I don’t need his leftovers.”

“Then where’s your line of people batting their eyelashes?” you challenge.

“Right here,” he taunts, eyes sparkling with vain as he leans over your table to get closer.

You scoff at his answer and move away from him. You need space to think clearly. “I am not batting my eyelashes at you, Seungcheol.”

“Maybe not,” he says, “but you have your own ways of showing your affection.”

“Like?” you raise an eyebrow. The only thing you feel like you’re showing him is an annoyed look.

“Like not telling me to go away when you first saw me.”

“That’s affection to you?” you laugh in disbelief.

Seungcheol shakes his head. “I’m telling you that’s how you show affection. I think I’m growing on you, Cherry.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and instead give him a scowl. You move farther away from him to show you definitely aren’t growing a liking for him—even if your heart hints otherwise.

“You will never grow on me. Not with those ‘friends’ of yours,” you reply.

“Hey, they’re doing you a favor,” he says, bemused at your sudden hostility toward them.

“Not those friends,” you sigh. Does he really need to be told which group of people you are talking about? Surely, he doesn’t think his business friends are such saints to not consider them.

“They just aren’t used to your people,” he reasons before sitting down across from you.

You give him a pointed look. “My people?”

“You know, the flashy fashion and such,” he says and gestures at your outfit as if to make a point; it’s another fit that “normal” people won’t wear for everyday attire.

“So that gives them the green light to insult me constantly?” you question, a little astonished at how he’s defending them. You understand they’re his friends, but is he so far up their asses he can’t see just how ugly their personalities are?

“You know you’re not all sunshine and rainbows, too, right?” he retorts.

You have to force your jaw not to drop. “Oh, I’m sorry. Next time I’ll let them say all the shit they want to and not defend myself since, evidently, no one else will.”

The indirect jab at Seungcheol doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“I told them to stop,” he frowns, thinking back to the lounge.

“Ah right, how could I forget? How silly of me,” you answer sarcastically. Although he did try to stop them, you feel he could’ve done more—maybe been more assertive. You feel he isn’t one hundred percent on your side, and that hurts you more than it should.

You make sure your iPad is locked before you stuff it in your bag along with your stylus. This isn’t how you wanted, nor imagined, your conversation with Seungcheol to go.

“You just gave them a bad first impression. You weren’t very friendly when we first met.”

You pause in your movements as your mind whirls back to seeing him at Jeonghan’s door instead of Minghao.

“Neither were your friends,” you recall.

“They would’ve been nicer if you—”

“I really can’t believe you’re defending them right now.”

“I’m just saying you all have some issues that need to be solved, and not everyone has been on their best behavior,” he sighs.

Your eyes scan his face, sensing the trouble he’s going through at being in the middle of two sides. It’s then you realize he will never have your back completely due to his conflict of interests. 

This shouldn’t bother you.

You had planned to never talk to him again once you were done working with his friends on your project, yet there is a tightening feeling in your chest that doesn’t make you smile. Some part of you is starting to oppose that original idea.

“I doubt these ‘issues’ will ever be resolved,” you reply, tossing your bag’s strap over your shoulder.

“Why not? We can all talk it through,” he says quickly, so you can’t leave. The look of hope on his face has you considering it for a split second, but you know that won’t go the way he’s imagining.

“I’ll make it easy for you, Seungcheol,” you begin and ignore his offer. “Don’t talk to me ever again.”

You should’ve known he isn’t going to let you go that easily. He grabs your wrist gently when you walk past him to leave.

“Where did that come from?” he wonders, tone teetering with confusion and annoyance.

“Don’t message me either,” you simply answer and pull your arm from his grasp. He looks baffled at your response, sitting still as you move away.

Before leaving, you stop at Mingyu. You give him the quick project explanation you’ve given to others before handing him your card. He tells you he’ll consider it, which isn’t what you want to hear, but at least he isn’t taken by anyone yet. You don’t want to linger around him any longer because Seungcheol is bound to come over since they came here together.

You leave just in time as you spot Hana, Hajun, and Soonyoung walking over to the café. You see through the café’s window as they greet Seungcheol and Mingyu. Some things will never change.

As you climb into your car, you feel a pair of eyes on you. The urge to turn back to confirm your suspicion of who it is is strong, but you keep your gaze forward. You didn’t stay at the café as long as you anticipated and hope your parents are done fighting when you get home.

You sit on Dae’s apartment floor as you pencil your clothes patterns on your fabric. With your mom back in town, you and your sister have been spending time at other people’s residences. You at Dae’s, and her at her own friend’s. You two have never been that close, so being separated from her doesn’t bother you as much as it would bother other siblings. Nevertheless, you’re still the big sister and worry about her occasionally—often sending text messages to check up.

You and Dae have music playing as you work on separate pieces. Even though you’re fine working alone, it’s comforting being with a friend right now. There’s a lot on your mind, and you just need something to distract yourself. Keeping your hands moving is a big help for that.

Your father has allowed your mother to stay while she finds another place to go. Her being at home means lots of fighting. At least for once, it isn’t silent in the house. You and your sister spend most of the time in your own rooms, only coming out for dinner. This isn’t new, but it feels more like a prison than before. The good side of Mom staying is she cooks dinner, which allows you to focus on your project. You have fulfilled all your helper positions—thankfully, Mingyu came around in the end and said yes—so you are focusing on bringing your sketches to life.

“My hands are cramping,” Dae whines, bringing your attention to her. You finish the line you are drawing and sit back on your heels.

“Take a rest,” you suggest. Dae shakes her head.

“I’ve got a quota to meet. If I can finish it now, I can have the rest of the day off,” she explains and goes back to her work.

“If you say so,” you mumble before finishing your work. 

Ten minutes pass until she speaks again.

“I ran into Seungcheol today on campus,” Dae says casually. You pause your movements at her sentence.

“And that matters to me how?” you wonder, keeping your gaze locked on your task at hand. Just his name has your heart racing. Though, you conclude it to be from anger.

“He asked about you,” she replies and stands up, a cut piece of fabric in her hand.

“I hope you told him I moved across the globe,” you mumble and grab the scissors you had brought. However, you can’t really focus on anything, so you simply mess around with the crystals you have to hold down the fabric.

Dae laughs a little and shakes her head. “I told him you are moping without him.”

You flicker your gaze to hers quickly, mouth open at her disloyalty.

“I am not moping, and if I was, it wouldn’t be because of him,” you argue fiercely, unknowingly moving your hands as you speak. 

Dae’s gaze glances at the scissors still in your grasp. “Let’s put that down when we’re talking about Seungcheol, okay?”

You peer at the object and scoff. “It’s comforting me right now, so no.”

“How exactly is it comforting you?”

“I’m imagining sticking it where the sun doesn’t shin—”

“Yn,” Dae scolds.

“You asked,” you say, then set them down reluctantly.

Dae eyes your movements carefully before speaking, “He just wanted to know how you were doing.”

“I’m doing fabulous,” you snap, hoping that is what she had told him. Your tone is a little harsher than you mean.

“I told him you were doing fine,” she answers your silent question.

You sigh. “Both start with ‘f’, so you were close enough, I guess.”

“You know what else starts with ‘f’?” she asks.

“Fudge? Which we should go get, by the way.”

“Forlorn,” she answers, dismissing your attempt for sweets. “You’re forlorn.”

“I am not sad and lonely,” you huff. Sure, your family drama is at a high right now, and you just dumped your not-so-friend-who-you-were-starting-to-like-being-with.

You are not sad. You are not lonely.

“You’re also in fenial,” Dae adds.

“I’m in what?”

“Fenial.”

“You mean denial?”

“Yes, you are.”

“Huh?!”

You stare at her, puzzlement written all over your face. She smiles at that, pinning her fabric to her dress form and then turning to you.

“You’re in denial that you miss him.”

“What is fenial?” you ask, disregarding her statement about how you feel about Seungcheol. You are not missing him. He has chosen his side—alright, not really, but his actions say otherwise. He is not on Team Yn.

Dae groans. “We were on f-words, and I had to improvise. I just wanted to tell you you’re in denial.”

“And you’re felusional.”

“How about we just change to d-words?” she asks when she notices what word you mean.

“Or change the subject entirely.”

You stand up, stretching your arms over your head and twisting your body to ease your back as you’ve been hunched over for a while. Dae stays silent as she lets the topic rest momentarily. You leave to grab a glass of water before sitting on her couch. Just as you think she’s letting it go, she speaks.

“Do you think he’s a bad person?”

“Dae,” you sigh in a warning. You came here in hopes of getting away from your problems, not facing them.

“It’s a yes or no question,” Dae states sternly.

Instead of responding right away, you take a drink from your cup. The cold liquid feels refreshing, and you relish in the feeling before her question echoes in your head.

Finally, you say, “No.”

Dae slows her movements on her dress form and peers at you. She doesn’t look at you playfully or pitifully, which you appreciate, but you still don’t want to talk about it. She seems to want otherwise.

“So, why did you stop talking to him?”

“I told you before,” you answer. “I don’t want to be around someone who won’t stand up for me. They’re his friends, and I’m not going to force him to choose.”

“You want him to, though,” she observes. Even though you want to deny that, you know she is right.

“Well, I didn’t want to force him to. I thought he would just do that upon seeing how rude his friends are.” Your thumbs play with the condensation on your glass.

“You’re not innocent either, Yn,” Dae answers softly so as to not hurt your feelings. It doesn’t help.

“Great, so you’re siding with them now as well?” you exhale, exhausted.

“No,” she replies seriously. “I’m trying to show you that he could have picked them over you.”

“Explain,” you say as you try not to lose your temper for a change.

“You’re saying his friends are rude—”

“They are,” you interject.

“I’m not saying they aren’t. Just listen to me,” she continues when you nod. “You’re saying his friends are rude, and he should ditch them, but if you’re being mean, then shouldn’t he leave you too?”

There is an argument on the tip of your tongue that never forms. Her words sink into your mind, processing what she means.

“What his friends are saying to you is not right, and I get why you’re fighting against them, but I wouldn’t hate Seungcheol for not unfriending them.”

“He still doesn’t always have my back,” you counter.

“Hm,” she concurs. “That he could do better on.”

You sit still as you muse about what she told you. She has a valid point, and part of you is grateful he didn’t leave you despite you always giving off the impression of wanting him to.

“And I don’t hate him,” you murmur, lower than your normal volume, but Dae hears you.

She exhales slowly, glancing at you sincerely. She gives you a reassuring smile. “I know.”

“Can you play that one more time?” you ask as you lean over Jihoon’s shoulder.

“Sure,” he answers and clicks a button. The sound plays from his speakers once more. You move away and begin to pace in his room. Your eyes stare down at your feet while you carefully listen. Having four elements seemed good at first, but now you are having trouble finding a beat that fits all four. You like some of the pieces Jihoon created, but they often fit more with one element.

“Something just isn’t,” you trail off once the song fades out.

“Can’t you just make four separate tracks?” Chan, who you met through Soonyoung a week ago, pipes in from Jihoon’s bed. He claims he has nothing to do and wants to help as well. At first, you’re unsure. His major is dance, like Soonyoung’s, so what knowledge does he have about music production? Despite your original disposition, he turns out to be more helpful than you initially thought.

“I don’t have enough time on stage for that,” you explain. In order for the show to not run for an entire day, each student is given a limited amount of time for their section of the show.

You all sit in silence as you think about what to do.

“Hey Jihoon, Chan—Oh,” a familiar voice rings out in the room. All heads turn to the door to see Seungcheol standing there.

It’s been nearly two weeks since you saw him, and during said weeks, you had been avoiding him. You didn’t let yourself be alone with him, let alone let him speak a word to you. 

The fight you had with him is still prominent in your mind, but what’s more evident is the way your body reacts when he gives you any attention. You feel betrayed by your own body when you feel a pang in your chest or a lingering desire to be close to him again. It’s as if you lost something you could’ve had if it weren’t for his wishful thinking. He wants his two worlds to coexist, but that isn’t going to happen. Maybe you would’ve given him an ultimatum, but you aren’t sure if he would even pick you. Hell, why would he when he’s known them longer? No reason to put yourself in that position.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he says, taken aback. Before you can question what he is doing here, Chan speaks.

“Hey, Cheol,” Chan greets. “Can you give us some help real quick?”

Chan’s question pulls you from your sappy thoughts and look at Chan as if he grew two heads. Seungcheol? Helping with music?

“We can figure it out ourselves, we don’t need—”

“Is this the music for your project?” he interrupts and walks inside the small room.

Sighing, you move away when he nears. “Yeah, but I don’t see how you could help.”

“Play it, please,” Seungcheol directs to Jihoon, ignoring your comment. Jihoon obliges before you can stop him. For the nth time, the music sounds in the room.

You stay silent as Seungcheol stares at the screen. His brows are drawn together, and his lips are in a slight pout. You realize you have never seen him so serious before. You don’t know why he’s so focused on a project he has nothing to do with.

As the song ends, another voice comes from the doorway.

“Cheollie, we’re leav—What are you doing here?”

To your disappointment, Hajun is standing at the door. Though what you really get a kick out of is her outfit. For the first time, she isn’t in pants. Her skirt stops a few inches above her knee, and her blouse is form-fitting rather than loose—like she normally wears.

Instinctively, your eyes drift to Seungcheol. You didn’t realize his attire until now. Despite it not being a suit, he wears slacks and a patterned top. A simple and clean look but is still nice. Were they on…?

Even though her question is most likely directed at you based on her tone, Seungcheol answers, “Give us a moment, Hajun. I’ll be out in a second.”

“But the—”

“Wait in the car then,” he replies sternly, eyes not leaving the computer screen. She fumes, gives you one final glare, then leaves.

“You have other files?” Seungcheol questions.

“Yes, but they’re either missing an element or don't fit any of them,” Jihoon explains.

You can’t recall ever telling Seungcheol about the theme of your project, so why is he acting as if this isn’t news to him? Maybe he put it together upon seeing your designs, or maybe his friends told him about it. Does that mean they talk about you in private? Probably. Still, you can’t help but want to ask.

“How did—” you begin, but Seungcheol stops you.

“Have you done one file with all four?”

“It was too long for her project,” Chan explains.

Suddenly, you feel you are being pushed out of your project. They’re talking about you as if you aren’t standing a few feet from them.

“This is my show, remember?” you huff. However, no one reacts to your question. 

Your patience drastically decreases. It doesn’t help that the bane of your existence is the cause of being overthrown.

“So, just cut each element file to make them shorter and create transitions,” Seungcheol suggests. “She’ll just have to organize her lineup to match.”

“That’s a stup—” you began.

“That may work,” Jihoon mumbles, then says to himself. “Such an obvious solution, too.”

You open your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted again.

“It may sound choppy if not done correctly, but that won’t be a problem since you’re making the track,” Chan adds with a supporting smile.

“Will you buffoons stop interrupting me?!” you exclaim, stomping a foot like you are a child.

They all turn toward you. Seungcheol chuckles softly at your scowl.

“Shouldn’t we be getting a ‘thank you,’ Cherry?” Seungcheol asks cockily.

Chan and Jihoon look at him, confused, never having heard that name before. To be fair, no one has.

“No, because you all just decided things without me,” you argue and gesture to the screen to prove your point.

“We were helping you,” Seungcheol rephrases.

“You were taking ove—”

“Come here,” he says, holding out his hand. You look at it as if he has just stuck it in sewer water.

“Like hell I will. You can leave. Hajun is waiting for you anyway. I need to finish working with Jihoon,” you scoff and angle your body to the screen to dismiss him.

“I don’t know why I offered my hand,” he mumbles under his breath, but it’s so quiet you can still hear it.

“Great question,” you say. “I don’t know why either, because I’m never going anywh—”

“I should’ve just taken yours.”

Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, firm enough so you can’t escape but not so rough to where he’s hurting you. He starts walking toward the door with you in tow. Unless you want him to clean the floor with your body, you have no choice but to follow.

He pulls you into the empty bedroom next door, shutting it before he releases you. He presses his back against the door to make sure you can’t make a run for it.

“That’s your tenth time interrupting me,” you hiss, a finger pointing at him accusingly. It’s bad enough he waltzed in and made decisions for your project without consulting you. Now he wants to, what? Force you to talk to him? Force you to forgive him?

“It was probably like three times, and Jihoon interrupted you as well,” Seungcheol says.

“He’s not an ass like you,” you reply.

“Oh, I’m an ass?”

You move closer to him, finger now pressing into his chest. Your unwanted yearning for him is transforming into anger. It’s a way to divert the denial you’re feeling at how much you missed being near him. Even if he has pissed you off before, you didn’t realize how much he has wormed his way into your life. To suddenly cut him off made it harder not to think of him. Now that he is here in front of you, you don't know what else to do but to default to how you initially felt around him—annoyed.

Surely, the increased heart rate is due to being irate, not because you are nearly toe-to-toe with Seungcheol.

“A big ass. Huge! One that I—No!”

You quickly stop your sentence when he opens his mouth. The finger on his chest is now pressing against his mouth to quiet him.

“Let me finish, dammit. You’re rude and insufferable. You’re the biggest ass I’ve ever met. One that I wouldn’t mind kicking—with my heels on, mind you.”

Seungcheol looks at you, pleased, which only intensifies the fire in you. Once he starts speaking, you quickly retract your finger. The feel of his mouth moving against your finger feels like fire against your skin—burning and making you feel warm.

“You sure you can balance on one leg long enough to do that?” he taunts.

After letting out a big exhale while stepping away, you ask, “What are you even doing here?”

“I promised I would help Joshua with something,” he explains. Hearing his name, it dawns on you that you are probably in his room. He and Jihoon have been roommates for a few months now, so you see him frequently.

“Why are you dressed like that?” you question next, eyes going up and down his body swiftly. 

“I went out to dinner,” he shrugs, not finding a big deal in what he’s wearing.

You aren’t going to bring her up. You really aren’t. So, why can’t you stop your damn mouth from running?

“With Hajun?”

Something in your tone must have gotten Seungcheol’s attention more. A stupid smirk forms on his stupid face.

“Something on your mind, Cherry?” he quips. You hate when he has that mischievous grin of his.

“Besides wanting to kick you? No.”

Rather than Seungcheol being offended by your answer, his smile only grows. “I’ve missed your sassy mouth.”

There’s a tug in your chest at his words, something akin to a siren's call—luring you to someone dangerous. At least, dangerous to your heart. 

It feels good to be missed by him, but you still can’t let go of the words he said to you in that café.

“I’m sure your friends are ecstatic to not have seen me lately,” you huff. Even though you are tired of thinking of them when you’re around him, you still bring them up. It’s just easier to latch onto a reason to be mad at him.

“I’m not talking about them right now,” he says firmly.

Seungcheol pushes off the door to stand closer to you. You take one step back, but one of his hands presses against the small of your back to bring you to him. The close proximity has you trying to lean away, but he doesn’t let that happen.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he encourages, voice softer.

Your heart is hammering in your chest. You’re still worked up from all the irritation you feel. You’re probably overreacting, but being alone with him stirs up feelings you’ve locked away.

“Let go of me,” you reply in lieu and wiggle in his hold. It’s fruitless.

“Yn,” he says lowly. Hearing your name from his lips has your breathing stop. It’s odd to hear it when he normally uses the nickname he gave you. “I’m sorry.”

You don’t need him to tell you what he’s apologizing for.

“Don’t,” you warn and press a hand against his chest. “You don’t mean that.”

His body feels soft, yet firm under your touch. While you would focus on his build, the feeling of his racing heart catches your attention more. Your eyes snap to meet his, not noticing you are staring at your hand on him. Is he nervous?

“I do. I’m sorry you felt I wasn’t on your side,” he says, mouth tugging down. “I want to be there for you.”

There is that feeling in your chest again—one you have been trying to force down for days. You try to hold onto the fizzing anger in you, but Dae’s words resurface in your mind. He could have left you. After all, he is right. You were rude when you first met him.

Seungcheol’s gaze darts between your eyes and then to your lips. You say nothing as he does so, your own eyes sweeping across his features.

As if in a daze, he starts to slowly lean forward.

You press the hand against his chest harder to stop him. “Cheol, you can’t. I—”

“What is it, baby?” he murmurs, thumb rubbing against the small of your back. The pet name wraps you in a blanket of illusion where you’re really his. One where there isn’t constant drama looming around you. You like the way it sounds from him.

“I have lipstick on,” you reply quietly.

Seungcheol flickers his gaze to your eyes, his own forming small crescents as he chuckles. “Is that your excuse to stop me?”

“No,” you answer with a slight shake of your head.

“Then stop talking,” he laughs softly and leans in again. Your hand on his chest relaxes as you let his body come nearer.

His lips gently brush against yours, almost experimentally. The simple feel of his mouth on yours has your body tingle. Your chest feels tight the longer you hold your breath in anticipation. As soon as he starts to press his lips on yours more, there is a loud noise from the other side.

“Shua, wait! I think Seungcheol and Yn are in ther—”

You both quickly separate from each other, eyes wide as saucers when the door opens. Joshua stands with a hand on his doorknob; his lips are in a deep frown at seeing you two.

“Not in my room,” he whines, body sagging when he sees both of your expressions.

“Huh? What do you mean? What’s going on—Oh,” Chan calls out as he comes behind him. 

You’re sure neither one of you is untidy in terms of clothes and hair, but the look on your faces is a flashing neon sign indicating what was occurring or about to occur.

“Nothing happened,” Seungcheol says and pushes a hand through his hair.

“Hopefully not. You have your own place for that,” Joshua replies. The thought of doing something intimate with Seungcheol has your cheeks feeling hot.

Not wanting to think of that, you glance at Chan. “Did Jihoon get the music sorted?”

Chan, still a little startled, nods. “He’s ready whenever you are.”

“Great, I’m coming.”

Chan says okay before heading back to the other room. Joshua makes his way into the room while you and Seungcheol start toward the exit. However, before you can completely leave, Seungcheol grabs your upper arm gently to stop you.

He leans toward your ear to whisper, “It was an end-of-the-year dinner with my whole class. My friends are probably wondering where I am.”

Without another word, he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead before sending you a smile and rounding the corner at the end of the hall that leads to the front door.

Your brain hasn’t caught up to anything that has happened in the last few minutes. From being frustrated with Seungcheol to nearly kissing him. You don’t even like him, so why is your heart soaring at thinking of possibly being in a relationship with him? Why does knowing he didn’t go to dinner alone with Hajun make you feel relieved? Hell, you don’t even find him attractive… Right? Yeah. He isn’t your type. His smile isn’t pretty. His eyes definitely don’t shine. His dimples are unflattering. His laugh is cute—obnoxious! His laugh is obnoxious.

Your shoulders deflate.

Oh, fuck.

Seeing Seungcheol on campus stirs a torrent of emotions through you.

The sight of him has your lips tingle as if you can feel the ghost of his mouth on yours. You ponder on what would have happened if Joshua hadn’t barged into the room. Would the kiss have been short and sweet? Long and passionate? Quick and desperate? Would he have said something that would’ve changed the trajectory of your relationship? Did you want that?

You have been snuffing out any thoughts about Seungcheol that crosses the line of friendship. There isn’t a reason why you can’t be more than friends—besides the disapproval from his business friends. You chalk it up to being too busy to put much effort into a partner. Plus, is Seungcheol even the person you want?

“You know you’ve been staring at the man for the past three minutes, right?”

Dae’s voice knocks on your mind’s door. Your gaze tears from Seungcheol’s back, who is ahead of you in the line ordering, to peer at your friend. She wears a small smile and is watching you closely.

“Not on purpose,” you argue. “I was just staring off into the distance. He just happened to be there.”

“You’ve been hanging out with him a lot,” she observes.

With the conversation about Seungcheol, you can’t help but drift your eyes back to him. 

He must sense your stare because out of the blue, he’s looking over his shoulder at you. The cashier follows his gaze, then says something to Seungcheol to which he nods in reply. Although the cashier turns back to the screen in front of them, Seungcheol’s eyes linger on you. He gives you a quick wink, mouth raising in a lopsided smile before finally averting his gaze.

“I haven’t,” you answer late and glance away.

“Uh huh,” Dae says, unbelieving.

“He’s just somehow always around when I’m working on my project with his friends. I’m not hanging out with him,” you explain.

“Maybe not directly, but he’s still there,” she shrugs.

“Trust me. I wish he wouldn’t be,” you sigh, shuffling forward when the line moves. “He’s distracting when I’m trying to get work done.”

Dae giggles. “Oh, I’m sure he is.”

“Not in that way,” you scold with a light arm slap. “I mean, his friends are easily susceptible to topic changes. What should be a thirty-minute meeting turns into an hour.”

Dae hums but doesn’t say anything else when you both are near the cashier finally. After ordering for yourself, you take out your card ready to pay.

“Actually, it’s already been paid for,” the worker says.

You cock your head to the side in confusion. “What?”

The cashier turns to Dae, who is ordering next to you. “And your friend’s.”

Suddenly, Dae is giggling. Though they aren’t quiet chuckles, they are loud and obnoxious. So much so, you feel it could be heard throughout the whole building.

“How kind of him, Yn,” she teases you, gladly accepting the free meal. You don’t need to specify the “he”. Since the deed is already done, you have no choice but to grab your food and move along.

“You should thank him,” Dae suggests as you walk to an empty table.

You scan the area and spot him with his back to you again. He sits with Vernon, Doyun, Joshua, and Mingyu. None of them notice you, and you turn around before that changes.

“I don’t want to, not in front of his friends,” you say, taking a bite of your meal.

“Why not?”

“I just feel it’ll be awkward,” you mumble.

Dae smiles. “It wouldn’t be, but fine. Let’s write him a note instead.”

You glance at her questionably. “Or I could just text him.”

“That’s so boring,” she scoffs, reaching inside your purse.

“Hey!” you try to protest but that doesn’t stop her from rummaging through your bag. She pulls out your sticky notes that have a cute design on them.

“Don’t you have yours?” you grumble as she starts to scribble on it.

“Yours are nicer,” she answers simply. She slides the pad over to you and her pen. “Now, write a thank you.”

Reluctantly, you do as you’re told. While you do so, Dae digs into your purse again. This time she pulls out your travel-sized perfume. You figure she wants to freshen up, but rather, she tears off the sticky note and spritzes the paper with the scent.

“That is so old school,” you groan, cringing at the cheesy act.

Dae smirks and folds the note. She pushes it in your hand and then covers her barely-eaten food.

“Let’s go give it to him as we’re leaving,” she instructs.

“But I barely started eating,” you complain, glancing down at your food.

“Do you really want to stay in this stuffy area? We can eat somewhere else.”

You watch as she stands up. Sensing she isn’t going to take no for an answer, and you don’t like eating in here anyway, you oblige and grab your meal.

“Any slower and we’ll have to eat during the lecture,” she says.

“We should’ve just left without sitting down,” you reply and started walking in the direction of Seungcheol’s table.

You don’t get the chance to back out of Dae’s plan since she taps his shoulder to get his attention as soon as she’s in arm's reach.

He jumps, turning as his eyes raise to flicker between the two of you. You bite back the giggle that almost escapes upon seeing his stuffed cheeks. He reminds you of a cute chipmunk, and there is a tingle in your fingertips that makes you want to poke his face.

Seungcheol seems embarrassed at having been caught like that, quickly covering his mouth and turning away. Once he swallows his food, he looks at you both again.

“Yn has something to give you,” Dae says.

You suddenly feel like her kid who has been forced to do something because “Mommy said to do it.” His friends are watching inquisitively.

“Oh?” he wonders, eyes glinting with curiosity.

You push out your hand, the folded note sticking out. He takes it slowly. His fingers brush yours as he did so, and you feel like such a love-sick teenager at the subtle giddy feeling bubbling from his graze.

You don’t want to be there when he opens it, so you clutch Dae’s arm and beeline to the exit without a word. You refuse to turn back to see his expression, only focusing on Dae’s endless giggles on the way out.

Your mom has finally found a hotel nearby to stay at. Even though you haven’t seen her in a long time, part of you is glad she is going. However, the little girl in you wants her to stay. To try to fix what is so broken in this fucking house, but that is a wish that will never be granted. You just want the fighting to stop, for you and for your sister. For that to happen, it’s best that she left. She’s been gone for three days; it’s been quiet since. Your father hasn’t said anything, just asked if you and your sister were okay before returning to his office.

Spring break came and went in a blink of an eye. You had no plans besides continuing to work on your project. After your mom left, you transferred all the items you had worked on from Dae’s place back to yours. You hung out with her occasionally, which wasn’t shocking to do, but what you didn’t expect was to talk to Seungcheol throughout the week. 

Seungcheol was out of town with his family, so he was pretty busy. Despite this, he still managed to find time to talk to you when he could. Conversations were dragged out due to the delayed responses, but that didn’t matter to you. It was nice to learn more about him and think about something other than your project—even if it were just for a few minutes at a time. 

Now your floor is covered in fabric scraps, cut-out fabric pieces, and sewing pattern sketches. Although it’s a mess, seeing your progress feels good.

Outside your door, you hear hurried shuffling. You ignore it as your sister is probably playing around.

“Yn! Your boyfriend is here!” Seoah calls out. You pause in pinning a piece of fabric to your dress form and sigh. You stick the pin in the pin cushion you have on your wrist, then leave your room.

As you are turning the corner, you ask in exasperation, “What are you talking about, Seoah? I don’t have a—Seungcheol?”

You stop in your tracks when you see him standing in the doorway, his name coming out as a gasp. His hair is wavy, which is different from how you normally see it. His dark hoodie and pants combo is nothing spectacular, but it has you wanting to wrap your arms around him to see if he feels as comfortable as he looks. 

You quickly blink a few times, gathering yourself again and trying hard not to ponder on your thoughts. You veer toward your sister. “Go to your room.”

“What? You’re not even going to introduce me?” she scoffs, ignoring your demand and turning to Seungcheol. She outreaches a hand to him and bows slightly.

“Hi! I’m Seoah, the better sister.”

Seungcheol chuckles and reciprocates the handshake, bowing slightly as well. “Nice to meet you, Seoah. I’m Seungcheol.”

“I’ve heard about you!” she exclaims. “Yn has talked about you.”

That is a partial lie. You have talked about him, but not with her. She must have heard you talk about him while you spoke to Dae on the phone. Curse your thin walls.

Seungcheol glances past her to you, who stands, annoyed, a little away from the door. He takes in your casual attire, and you realize he’s not used to seeing you like this. You suddenly feel self-conscious. Instead of that making you cower in shyness, you just get irritated.

“Good things, I hope,” he answers your sister with a laugh.

Seoah winces. “Actually, not really—”

“Room! Now!” you huff and point to the hallway. Seoah rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says. She gives Seungcheol a wave before skipping past you, making sure to “accidentally” bump into you on her way.

Once you hear her door shut, you walk closer to Seungcheol.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in a quiet voice, knowing Seoah probably has an ear pressed up against her wall.

Rather than giving you the answer you’re looking for, he chaffs, “You’ve said bad things about me? I’m hurt.”

“Yeah, well, I’m about to have more bad things to say if you don’t answer my question.”

Seungcheol smiles, seemingly unfazed by your brazen response. “At least you would be talking about me.”

Unamused by his playful tone, you take a step back and push the door closed. Seungcheol presses his palm against the object before it can fully shut. His push on the door is strong enough that you have no choice but to stop your actions.

“Must you always be so snappy?” he questions blithely.

“Must you always be so annoying?” you retort. 

“Annoying is subjective.”

“Seungcheol,” you exhale. “I’m busy, so unless it’s something dire, get off my porch.”

“I haven't seen you for a week and suddenly you’ve turned into an old lady.”

Your eyes narrow. The pin cushion comes into view, and you reach to pluck a needle from it.

“This old lady has a weapon, so don’t even start,” you threaten.

Seungcheol takes a step back when he sees the small object. He bites his lower lip as he stares at it. You can tell he’s trying not to laugh. It makes you jab the air toward him, causing him to take another step back.

“Alright, alright, Cherry, put that tiny sword away,” he laughs, hands rising to show mercy.

You oblige, eyes scrutinizing him in case he decides to do something. Though, he simply lowers his arms.

“What do you want?” you ask.

“It’s always ‘what do you want’ and never ‘how are you’,” he sighs teasingly.

Your reply almost leaves your lips until you hear the sound of a door opening from inside.

“Yn? Is there someone at the door?” your father’s voice comes from somewhere behind you. In a panic, you shut the door—so unexpectedly and fast, Seungcheol doesn’t have time to stop you this time.

You turn around to him. “Yeah. I forgot I left something at Dae’s. She’s just brought it back. I need to go meet her.”

Lying to your Dad isn’t something you probably need to do. It’s not like you are banned from having friends or being in a relationship, but you try not to mix too much of your personal life with people you know.

“Ah, alright,” he says. He lingers around for a moment and then leaves the room.

You open the door as soon as he is out of sight. You step out this time. Seungcheol gives you a concerned look, but you pretend not to notice.

“Can we talk in your car?” you ask. It’s better to talk where Seoah isn’t eavesdropping, and your Dad can’t spot you.

Seungcheol doesn’t question you and gestures for you to lead the way.

“You’re not wearing shoes,” he observes as you go down the stairs.

“Good to know you can see,” you reply, not caring about the fact. You’re just going to figure out what he wants then go back inside.

“And you called me insufferable,” he groans.

Suddenly, your feet aren’t touching the floor.

Seungcheol has his arms under your knees and around your back. You instinctively wrap your arms around his neck tightly.

“This is unnecessary!” you shriek at the abrupt change.

“You could get hurt,” he simply says, walking the short distance from your porch steps to his car parked out front.

“It’s concrete, not glass. I would’ve been fine,” you argue.

“You never know.”

Seungcheol’s grip doesn’t loosen, and you know he isn’t going to let you down until he reaches his vehicle. With this knowledge, you decide to let yourself think about the way he holds you so tightly. His hair is tickling your arm, and his cold touch on your bare legs warms your skin the longer it presses against you. For a moment, you dive back into that illusion of being more than friends. It’s a dangerous thought.

Instead of setting you down on the ground when he arrives at his car, he gently rests you on top of his shoes—still not letting your feet touch the rough concrete. It’s a small gesture, but the impact it has on you is big. You warmly stare at him, hoping he doesn’t see it as you wait for him to open the door. The click of the door cues you to climb inside.

“All that work for what?” you laugh lightly when he climbs inside, trying not to seep deeper into the warmth that begins spreading in your chest. He turns on the car to get the AC running.

“For your safety,” he replies as if what he did isn’t anything special. While you hate the part of your brain that wonders if he has done this for anyone else before, you hate another part that wants him to only do these things for you more.

“Should I carry you if you are barefooted next time?” you tease.

The grin on his face is wide enough to accentuate his dimples. “As much as I would love for that to happen, I doubt you can carry me.”

“We can try it now,” you offer, gesturing out the window.

“I would rather not break my tailbone when you drop me,” he laughs.

It’s getting harder to deny that you miss him and his contagious giggles. You laugh along with him briefly.

“So, will you please tell me why you’re here?” you ask when the laughter dies down.

“Another ‘please’? I ought to be around you more if I remind you of that word,” he replies.

“You do, constantly,” you start. “Please go away. Please get to the point. Please shut up. Please—”

“I got it,” he chuckles, and you stop to give him a triumphant smirk. 

“I wanted to invite you to dinner with my friends,” he finally reveals.

Hearing the term “my friends” coming from Seungcheol has your smirk slowly evaporating. Upon seeing your change of expression, he quickly elaborates.

“Our friends. Would you like to go to dinner with our friends? Not my… other ones.”

You feel better at knowing it isn’t the group you are avidly evading. “Why would they want me there? Did you not ask about me coming again?”

“Actually,” he pauses, “they asked me to invite you.”

“They did?” you wonder out loud, startled.

“You and Dae.”

“This couldn’t have been asked in a text message?” you ask. 

“I wanted to see you,” he shrugs as though there is nothing wrong with that. Which, there isn’t, except it stirs unwanted emotions that make you feel warmer. 

You move your gaze from him as you consider the invitation. Your first outing with people other than Dae went horribly, and even though this will be with people you are more fond of, you’re still nervous. Maybe if Dae agrees, you’ll be more inclined.

“Can I get back to you?” you ask.

Seungcheol’s small frown quickly turns upside down when you look at him again. “Yeah, of course,” he forces out.

“Sorry, I just…”

Seungcheol reaches out to you, placing a hand on your thigh lightly to reassure you. “I get it. Don’t feel pressured. We just wanted to get to know you both without talking about your projects.”

You nod slowly, eyes staring down at his hand on your skin. Heat is spreading from his touch to across your body. His other hand comes up and guides your face upward, causing your gaze to tear from his hand to his face. He’s closer than you remember. He smiles at you, those devilish dimples appearing and making your heart melt involuntarily.

“Just let me know,” he speaks lowly, slowly so you hear him clearly. Your mind isn’t sure if he is referring to letting him know about the dinner invitation or letting him know if you want him to kiss you.

Yes to both.

You nod, eyes trailing down to his lips. You watch as they stretch into a bigger grin.

“Good,” he murmurs.

You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is thumping in his quiet car. Though that is a fleeting thought as he nears your face. Your eyes flutter shut as you meet him halfway.

Like before, his lips graze yours tenderly. It’s so gentle that you have to suppress the shiver your body wants to emit. One of your hands slowly rises to rest against his cheek to bring him closer. His head tilts into your touch. 

Seungcheol’s hand that’s on your thigh glides up your side until it rests on your waist. Your lips are pressed against his more than they were at Jihoon’s, but not fully. Despite the slow pace, it’s thrilling to be able to focus on his every touch.

“Not your boyfriend, huh?”

The voice outside has you both springing from each other. You move so fast that your head accidentally hits the passenger window. The thud catches Seungcheol’s attention and before you can glare daggers at your sister, his hands come up to cup the back of your head where you had hit it.

“Are you okay?” he quickly asks. Although you want to indulge in his caring nature, you move his hands so you can turn to face the window. The throbbing is already fading. 

Seoah stands with her arms crossed, hips shifted to one side, and a not-so-intimidating stare.

“Well?” she prompts. Her voice is slightly muffled from being outside, but you hear it nonetheless.

You open the door so she can hear you clearly. “You say anything and I’ll—”

“You’re really going to threaten me with your boyfriend here?” she questions, a knowing smile on her annoying face.

“You’re right. Let’s go inside first,” you say before turning to Seungcheol. His face is flushed, and he still seems a little startled by everything that happened. You’ve never seen him so bashful before. He looks rather… cute.

“I’ll get back to you, okay?” you say, starting to slowly leave his car.

That has him swimming out of his thoughts. “Do you need me to—”

You smile at him. “No, Cheol, I don’t need a ‘ride’ back to the door.”

“Watch your step,” he warns softly.

“I will. Drive safe,” you say, fully out of his car and leaning in through his now rolled-down window to see him. You peer over your shoulder to see Seoah waiting a few feet away.

“Also,” he says quickly. “I’ll drive you and Dae and pay for your dinners. If that’s any incentive to come.”

“Tempting,” you playfully reply. “I’ll let you know soon.”

“Okay,” he slowly says. “Oh, and thank you for that note.”

Your body stills at remembering that silly, scented sticky note Dae made you give him days ago.

“Don’t mention it. Seriously,” you reply with a hint of sternness.

“Bye, Cherry,” he smiles. He seems like he wants to say more but decides against it.

“Bye, Seungcheol,” you say.

Per his request, you’re careful with your steps as you retreat back to your door. Before you go back inside, you turn to Seoah.

“What were you doing outside?” you question. You can hear the sound of car tires as she answers.

“Dad sent me out to get you.”

Your eyes widen. “Did he see who I was with?”

“No,” she says. “Just said he didn’t hear you come back in.”

Of course, the one time he decides to be attentive is when Seungcheol comes.

“Don’t tell him about this, alright?” you sigh.

Seoah nods. She may be annoying, but at least she isn’t traitorous. “Are you dating him?”

“No,” you reply sternly. You aren’t. You are just… testing the waters? About to have a friend with benefits? Friends with make-out-sessions? You are nearing an unhealthy spiral from how much you are fretting over the man.

“Do you want to be?” she wonders.

“Enough, Seoah. Just promise me you won’t say anything.”

Seoah stays silent for a moment. You fear you’ll have to plead more, but she ends up sticking out her pinkie finger. You sigh in relief, wrapping your pinkie around hers.

“I promise,” she says.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Let’s get inside,” you instruct, voice softer than before.

“Please turn in your progress reports. I’ll see you all next week,” Dr. Lim says and motions to the spot on the table in front of him.

You wait as the majority of your peers place their papers in a pile. You’re still on your iPad and editing a few designs. You just can’t get one of them right. Something is off, but you aren’t quite sure of the reason.

Maybe if you hadn’t stayed up last night, your mind wouldn’t be so sluggish. 

Seungcheol wasn’t quite ready to end the conversation once he left. Countless texts transpired before he eventually called. The conversations were easygoing enough for you to continue working on your designs while you talked to him. You learned he had an older brother and parents who all lived a few cities over. He hasn’t visited as many times as he wished due to being busy with classes. Though, he tries to go when he can.

You don’t disclose much about your family, keeping it simple by saying you have a sister, whom he met, and parents. He doesn’t pester too much on the topic, and you’re glad. Instead, you talk about what you’ve both been up to and your hobbies (he likes to play games and drink with friends). 

You stayed up later than normal and are now paying the price for it. Though even through your haze, you don’t regret it.

“Come on, Yn,” Dae says when the line to leave shortens.

“One second,” you reply as you focus back on your sketch.

Dae sighs but leaves you alone, going to turn in her own report. 

Maybe the coloring? But if you adjust the shade, it will be too close to another design. Is the one slit in the skirt too common? Maybe if you add two… Better, but it still isn’t clicking. Perhaps it is the top. 

Your hand dances across the screen, drawing and erasing, then redrawing until you finally have something that itches that artistic scratch you are trying to satisfy. The other issue is you need more fabric to make this piece. You’ll have to note that down in your to-do list.

Once you are finally packed, you leave your table and set your paper on top of everyone else’s.

Dr. Lim glances up at seeing you walk past. “Thanks, Yn. I look forward to seeing what you have so far.”

“I am as well. Let me know if there are any changes that could make my designs better,” you reply, pushing your bag strap higher on your shoulder.

He smiles at you; it’s not the first time you’ve asked this. “Of course. See you next week.”

You say your goodbye and then exit to find Dae. She’s outside the classroom, leaning against the wall as she speaks to someone. He looks familiar and you recall his name to be Yejun. He was with Jeonghan when you first met him.

“You get everything sorted?” Dae asks when she sees you. You nod. “Do you remember Yejun?”

Another nod.

“It’s good to see you again,” he greets with a warm smile.

The first response you have is it probably isn’t good to see you since most people don’t find pleasure in your presence. You’re sure he just said that out of courtesy.

Alternatively, you opt for, “You as well.”

“Oh, did Seungcheol ask you about that dinner with the guys?” Dae wonders to you.

Ah, that’s right. You were going to ask her about that today but got distracted with revising your design.

“He did, but I wanted to see if you are going first,” you answer.

“Yeah, me and Yejun are planning to go.”

You glance at Yejun in surprise. Seungcheol didn’t mention his name.

Upon seeing your expression, Yejun explains, “Jeonghan invited me since I’m helping Dae with her project.”

“Hm,” you hum in affirmation. It makes sense.

“So, are you coming?” Dae questions.

You’re conflicted about what you want. What if this dinner ends like how the lounge night went? You planned to stick with Dae if she goes, but now that Yejun is going, will she leave you? What if something happens and you need her?

“Stop overthinking and just say yes. It’ll be fine,” Dae interrupts your mental questions and gives you a friendly push.

Exhaling deeply, you agree to go.

“Great,” she smiles. “Yejun offered to give us a ride.”

The mention of a ride makes you recall Seungcheol’s offer. “Oh, Ch-Seungcheol actually said he’ll drive us and pay for our dinner.”

You peer at Yejun, recalling he didn’t mention he’ll do the same for Yejun, but you figure Seungcheol won’t mind. At least the ride part. You don’t know if he’ll pay for Yejun too.

Yejun gets the hint at your look and chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll catch a ride with Jeonghan.”

“I’ll go with Yejun and Jeonghan,” Dae offers.

Your heart starts to race at the idea of being left alone with Seungcheol again. It wouldn’t be the worst thing, and you rather enjoyed his company, but lately, you’ve been treading on an indivisible balance beam—teetering on feelings you aren’t ready to come to terms with. Maybe you are, but you’re too nervous that Seungcheol doesn't feel the same. Yeah, he tried to kiss you—twice—but that doesn’t mean he likes you. You can kiss people you don’t like. He could be looking for something noncommittal and somehow sees that in you. 

Great, now you’re concerned if that’s how he sees you. Someone who isn’t dedicated to one specific person. Does he think that of you in general or in terms of relationships? You just added another reason why you shouldn’t be left alone with him. Way to go, brain. Seriously.

“Actually, I’m sure he won’t mind you both. Let me just ask real quick,” you respond hastily and pull out your phone.

“It’s okay,” Dae says, but you ignore her. You send a message to Seungcheol. You know he’s in class, according to previous conversations, but you hope he sees the text soon.

“It’ll probably be more fun in Jeonghan’s anywa—”

Your eyes shoot down when your phone vibrates.

“He said yes! It’s all good. He even offered to pay for you, Yejun,” you say, a little happier than you should’ve been. Dae eyes you suspiciously.

“Really? Oh, wow. Alright. I can’t turn down a free ride and meal,” he laughs and looks at Dae. “That alright with you, Dae?”

She slowly tears her sight from you and gives Yejun a small smile. “Yeah, it sounds perfect.”

“Awesome. I’ll tell him to pick you guys up first,” you say.

“We can just meet at yours?” Dae offers, but you shake your head.

“I need the extra time to get ready,” you lie. She says nothing at the little fib. She should know you don’t want a lot of people at your house.

“Right,” she says slowly. “Then Yejun, can you meet me at mine? I don’t want Seungcheol driving all through the city since he’s doing us a favor.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

“Yejun!” a familiar, light voice calls. You look around and see Jeonghan a few feet away.

“Class calls,” Yejun sighs and starts to walk toward Jeonghan.

Jeonghan directs a kind smile and waves in your direction. You wave back—one that isn’t as enthusiastic as his, but it doesn’t matter. He should be grateful he got a wave at all. 

“You ladies coming to dinner this weekend?” he calls from where he is. He could have easily walked over, but he decides to yell across the room instead. People are starting to glance at you all, and you sigh at his antics.

“Yup! We’re even getting a free meal from your friend!” Dae answers, having no problem with the long-distance chat.

Jeonghan laughs, loud enough for you to hear it and for your mouth to dip down at the sound. Better yet, it isn’t even a laugh. It’s a maniacal giggle. That giggly little bitch.

“Oh? Are you now?” he questions, obviously not needing a hint at who the aforementioned friend is. “Well if he’s offering, I’m going to see if he’ll pay for mine too.”

“Pay for your own, and go to class,” you finally join the discussion. You place a hand on Dae’s arm, ready to drag her away from the angelic devil.

“Trying to keep him all to yourself? That’s not fair,” he replies with an over-exaggerated pout.

“That’s not the reason,” you growl, eyes narrowing in a sneer.

“Well, regardless, he’s got money to spare,” Jeonghan chuckles and slips an arm around Yejun’s shoulder when he gets close enough. “Have a nice day!”

You both watch as they ascend the stairs, their laughter fading off the farther they get.

“Seungcheol’s loaded?” Dae asks, surprised.

It takes you a moment to realize what spurs that question. You’re about to say no, but his car and his luxury clothes say otherwise. Hell, even his cologne shouts “expensive”. Though he could’ve gotten all those as gifts, or even got help paying for some. It doesn’t matter if he has lots of money or not, but you didn’t expect him to. No one you really know is that wealthy.

“I’m not sure. Plus, paying for five meals doesn’t mean he’s rich,” you reply honestly. “It doesn’t matter. We need to go get some fabric.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” she teasingly questions, letting you pull her out of the building and to the parking lot.

“You said you needed to go to the store anyway,” you argue.

Dae smiles. “Yeah, but I never said I wanted to go with you.”

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes playfully. Dae giggles and holds onto your arm tighter.

“You can just tell me you want to hang out with me,” she says.

“I’d rather swallow my pin cushion.”

“Ouch. For a moment, I really thought we had something,” Dae sighs dramatically, clutching her chest in faux pain.

“Alright, enough playing around. Let’s get going.”

Just your luck.

You and Dae visit almost every fabric store that your college is sponsored by. Every single one you have gone to so far has the fabric you want out of stock. Dae offers some that are “close to what you want,” but you don’t want them. The fabric you saw online is what you have envisioned for your piece, and you don’t want to settle for less. 

There is one more store on the list, and as soon as you walk in, you make your way to where it should be.

There it is!

The navy blue sheer fabric is calling to you.

You’re about eight steps from it when two girls come into view. You hurry to the fabric, but unfortunately, they are standing in front of it. One girl has her hand hovering over the bolts of fabric in that section, seemingly unsure of what she wants. That’s good for you as it means she doesn’t have her eye on the fabric you want. You just need to sneak in and grab it before she makes up her mind.

“Excuse me,” you say to them. When they turn to you, you recognize their faces. They’re in your class and are participating in the runway project. Tori and Siwon, if you remember correctly. 

“Oh, Yn,” Tori says. “Need something?”

Though her voice is sweet, you know her intention is not. You’re aware of the way she speaks about you. Always something about how unoriginal you are because you “stole designs.” That or you pay for people to do your work for you. What pathetic lies. They’re common rumors amongst several fashion students. Although you don’t know if all of them are false for others, you know the allegations about you are.

Your gaze on the blue fabric catches her attention, and she turns toward it. “Oh, here’s what I came for.”

Your heart drops when she grabs it, tucking it under her arm and then looking at you again. Her overly innocent smile has your hands clutching at your sides. You know she did this just to spite you. If she really wanted it, she would’ve grabbed it sooner.

“The area is yours,” Tori says, bowing as if you are royalty. It’s a mocking action, which has you nearly stomping your heel onto her exposed foot in her open-toed shoes.

You take a deep breath and eye the fabric in her hold. There isn’t much of it left, which means there won’t be enough for what you need. Part of you doesn’t even want it if she’s going to use it in her designs.

Rolling your shoulders back and lifting your chin, you say, “No wonder you’re one of the least creative students in class. All you do is take others’ ideas. I doubt you even know what to do with that fabric, but good luck.”

The girls scoff before leaving for the cutting station. You stare after them, fire rolling inside.

“Hey, did you find it?” Dae asks when she stops next to you. She has items in her hands that you don’t pay attention to.

“Yeah,” you reply through clenched teeth. “Then Tori took it.”

“Tori from class?”

You gesture to where she is, smiling at the lady who is cutting the fabric for her.

“I’m sorry she beat you to it,” Dae says.

You shake your head. “She didn’t even want it. She took it because she knew I wanted it.”

Dae glances back to her across the store, mouth set in a firm line.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll lure her and her friend outside and you can snatch the fabric from the counter.”

As much as you like the idea, and appreciate Dae’s support, you shake your head. “I’d probably get kicked out for sabotaging her project.”

“You’re just playing fair,” Dae argues.

“Whatever,” you reply, looking at her arms. “Let’s go check out.”

Dae follows you silently to the registers.

“We can go to another store,” she offers as you wait in line.

“This was the last store that would give it at a discount. I can’t afford it at the regular price,” you explain.

Dae nods grimly. She gently takes the red thread that you’ve been toying with in your hands. “I’ll pay this for you.”

“I’m not that poor,” you sigh and take it back.

She laughs lightly. “I didn’t mean to imply that. I just wanted to make you happy.”

“Thanks. I’ll just find something else,” you conclude, giving her a forced smile.

“And it’ll be better than that cliché navy blue,” Dae says.

“It was a little cliché, huh?” you question. You're grateful for Dae trying to lift your mood.

“Absolutely!”

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (cant tag :c), @cheolcherries, @mingyublues, @maknae00, @morklee02

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[hils79]

Hils Watches The Spirealm - Ep 15

Am I nearly at the end of the scary schoolgirl ghost arc? Does it get more scary than this one. I am only a smol Hils 🥺

They still do that now

The kids who bullied her suck, but the teacher is even worse for letting them do it right in front of him

You have to be a special kind of evil to bully someone relentless when they're alive but to then continue to make fun of them after they've died. I'm glad she ripped all their legs off tbh.

I love that whenever anyone makes any sort of suggestion for what to do next Ruan Lanzhu is just 'yeah, cool, whatever' but as soon as Ling Jiushi suggests even the most simple idea it's all 'Lingling you are so smart and perfect and beautiful we should get married and co-parent your cat'

Honestly amazed that Ruan Lanzhu has permitted himself to be separated from Ling Jiushi

I was bullied when I was in school but it was nowhere near as bad as the way bullying is depicted in dramas. IDK if that's really what it's like in countries like China and Korea or if it's just being exaggerated for dramatic effect. School bullies in dramas are always evil little bastards

Aww little baby Ling Jiushi also had a kaleidoscope

I've watched too many BL dramas because my first thought was 'oh, he actually met Ruan Lanzhu when he was a kid'. because that is a common trope. Apparently it's not him though

She had better no die protecting him! That often seems to be how it goes with unrequited love in dramas

Ooh he fessed up!

Ehehe! We can't outright say that Ruan Lanzhu sometimes crossdresses but we can whisper it

Ooh he made a bet that he could get ghost girl to like him. I should have figured that he was a dick just like the rest of them

I do like it when you see the same scene but from different perspectives.

HE WROTE THE SONG! Assuming this kid is telling the truth, which I kind of think he is. I did wonder in the other guy's version of events how they'd managed to get hold of her diary to read out loud. A love letter that she gave him makes way more sense

This is even more hilarious now because Li Dongyuan is the only one who doesn't know that Baijie is actually a man

Ling Jiushi is in the background like 'please stop talking'

They can't do anything to advance the murder ghost plot so Ruan Lanzhu has decided to have some fun

He's such a little shit I love him

And now he's jealous again

[livinginshambles]

Preview: If I could take it all back | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: James' time to pine over you. After James rejected your feelings, and you promised to get over him during the summer break, he finds himself in the same position of unrequited love and wishes he could take his words back.

Notes: I suppose this could be read as a standalone without the short context of the first part :) No proofreading (yet), enjoy!

Also, am I supposed to tag you guys for previews? Because I'm not doing it, to avoid spamming you guys, but idk what you guys think works best.

__________________________

James plopped down on his bed in exhaustion after their first day back at Hogwarts and his mind wandered off to you.

What would your reaction be if he told you that he may fancy you. You probably wouldn’t take him seriously, he figured. And it’s not as if he actually fancied you, right? His mind was probably just confused because he, for the first time ever, wasn’t so preoccupied with Lily, and could instead acknowledge other girls too.

“Bloody hell, is it me, or was that ceremony more tedious than ever before?” Sirius complained after he too dropped down on his bed across the room.

“Just gets longer each year,” Remus groaned in dismay, stuffing his face in his pillow with a deep sigh.

“And that choir,” Peter chimed in. He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, the rest of the marauders dramatically joining in on complaining.

“And ignoring the toads, there was a bloke who kept making eyes at our Y/N,” Sirius huffed. James’ relaxed posture turned rigid, and he rolled over, so his eyes could snap towards Sirius. “What!? Who?”

“Calm down, Prongs,’ Remus was quick to shush him. “Sirius is exaggerating as usual.” A pillow was thrown his way. “Also, it wasn’t inappropriately making eyes at her or anything. He just smiled at her, that’s all.” Remus ducked the pillow.

“Yeah, and it was completely mutual, so it’s alright,” Peter decided to add his own observation of the incident in attempt to reassure James. His words seemed to have the opposite effect, although James tried to hide the way his heart plummeted. Mutual?

“True, she even blushed a little,” Remus seemed to recall. “You reckon she fancies him?” He wondered out loud and James huffed in annoyance. “That’s ridiculous, Y/N doesn’t fancy him,” he curtly replied. Peter shook his head. “But didn’t she say that she fancied someone last year?”

Remus’ eyes lingered on James, fully aware who she fancied, but opting to not throw that in the conversation.

“Well if she fancied anyone, it wouldn’t be that stupid git,” James stubbornly said. Sirius squinted his eyes at James before a shit eating grin appeared on his face. “Prongs…” he slowly began. “Do you fancy our Y/N?” Remus and Peter’s jaws fell slack, sitting up to stare at James.

James froze and his mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words to deny Sirius’ accusation. “No, I don’t,” he defended himself. “I just know Y/N and I’m telling you, that guy is not her type,” he scoffed.

“Well to be fair, we don’t actually know her type, she hasn’t dated anyone before and refused to tell us about her crush.” Sirius poked. “Well, I do,” James snapped. There was a long awkward silence while the marauders raised their eyebrows at his tone, and then James cleared his throat. “I just mean that I’ve known her longest, so obviously I know her type,” he tried to explain.

“Right.” Sirius slowly drew out. Remus and Peter nodded their heads but not at all looking convinced. James dropped back down on his bed and let his mind wander off to you again. Oh, who was he lying to, of course he fancied you.

“So, lovely Y/N, what’s your type in regard to guys,” Sirius curiously asked you. James shot him an angry look that you couldn’t see as you were huddled against him, your back to his chest so that you two could fit on the armchair together.

“What, like personality or looks?” You tilted your head in question.

“Uh, both?” Sirius asked.

You hummed in thought. “Well, kind of like Prongs, I guess,” you shamelessly admitted, and James almost choked on his own saliva. “Though, look-wise, you’re pretty easy on the eyes too, Pads.” You winked jokingly at Sirius, and he blew you a kiss while laughing out loud before getting back on the matter at hand. “So, James here is your type?” He almost disbelievingly repeated.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

James scanned Sirius’ face and could see the gears turning in his friend’s head. Merlin, he’d have to let Sirius know that he didn’t have to bother playing matchmaker, he’d destroyed any chances of you two ever becoming more by himself, two months ago.

His arms tightened around you unconsciously. It didn’t matter as long as he could keep you close like this. He’d take whatever you’d give him, he decided. He was happy enough with your friendship.

Full fic