#people talk about me and I’ll get my mums friends going ‘your mum told me you’re doing [xyz]. thats incredible’ and idk how to be like

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

i get a lot of family friends or neighbours saying “you’re so impressive” and i get similar things from other people when i tell them what i’m doing and idk how to be like “nah it’s nothing” bc they always think i’m being humble or something but i just genuinely cannot conceive of the compliments they’re giving me. my essay was just nominated for an award and i appreciate that people like my work but that’s it

[ja3yun]

Melting Point | P.SH | CH.8

brother's rival!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, fingering, rose toy, multiple orgasms, confrontation, ynhee's mum (she's a warning all in herself), anything else lmk! ch. 8 synopsis: the weekend of nationals is finally here and there's a buzz in the air but of course, nothing can run as smoothly as you plan. sunghoon lets you in on minhee and his private conversation, leaving you stuck between a rock and a hard place. wc: 13.6k previous | masterlist | next a/n: hi! i cannot believe melting point ends NEXT WEEK like wdym :( this chapter really explains everything you need to know about the story and everything w the mum so this is an important one <3 thank you all so much for the love. as always i really value your feedback/comments/likes/reblogs. nothing makes me happier than reading your theories and comments, thank you so much! pls enjoy.

Heaving your case, you start to wonder if you packed too much for the weekend. It’s not like you meant to cram in 6 different outfits, 3 pairs of shoes, and every piece of makeup you own - you just wanted to be extra prepared; that and you’re indecisive.

It’s finally Nationals weekend which means everything the boys have been working so hard for is here, only 2 days away. Technically, they should have been in Seoul already but you had a prelim exam today so they both waited for you to be finished before heading out.

The decision wasn’t your favourite, considering they’re missing parts of the press conferences and extra training but they assured you it was the easiest scapegoat out of travelling with the coaches and answering the usual ‘ideal type’ and ‘boyfriend’ questions that get thrown at them.

Considering they were top athletes, you would think the reporters would have more intelligent questions. Sunghoon had told you the last press event he did, the reporters just decided to try and ask him questions he knew would make him look arrogant and cocky with both women and on the ice.

It irks you how everyone has this preconceived perception about the man you love who would bend over backwards to make people happy. He says it doesn’t bother him and therefore it shouldn’t burden you but that's your man and he’s being slandered over news websites, it’s only right you get a little annoyed.

You can hear Sunghoon now as you think about it, telling you “at least I can back up my massive ego with a first place”, and he’s right, but it still doesn’t make you any more okay with it.

Presently, you’re walking down your campus path to the main road, on the way to meet both Minhee and Sunghoon. Somehow, you’ve managed to convince them to drive to the competition together. It took Minhee more convincing than Sunghoon, his biggest objection being you and your boyfriend all over one another.

There’s a mastermind plan to your reasoning; you want them to get along and forcing them in a close proximity for more than 3 hours seems like the best way to do it. Well, you’ve convinced yourself it’s the best way. Plus, you can try and pry out of them what they were talking about the other day in the coach’s office.

Looking ahead, you see Sunghoon and Minhee talking, or rather bickering about something. 

This might be harder than you thought.

“You are NOT driving my baby, she doesn’t need your hands all over her,” you hear Sunghoon say, arms crossed in defence.

“Come on, man! It’s a 3-hour drive and you look tired. I’ll take the wheel and you go for a sleep in the back,” Minhee retorts, pleased with himself for his reasoning; yet, Sunghoon doesn’t budge, adamant that your brother will never get the driver’s seat. 

It’s oddly refreshing to see them argue about something so trivial and not try to tear each other’s character down. They’re nipping at one another like friends do. You and Rina have had your fair share of minisode arguments about throwaway things like this so seeing them do the same makes you smile.

However, you will stop it, just in case Sunghoon gets too riled up - you know how he can get when it comes to his car. You spilled the tiniest bit of your blueberry juice on the seat and he nearly crashed into the traffic light. He’s very dramatic and overly protective.

“Mini, if you drive, I’ll just make out with Hoon in the back the whole drive there,” you laugh.

Your boys turn around at the sudden sound of your voice, both wearing different expressions. Sunghoon’s face upturns into brightness as he sees you, his arms come undone, and his body visibly relaxes. He looks as handsome as ever with his hair styled and smart-casual outfit; grey-collared sweater with black pressed trousers.

Minhee on the other hand is disgusted at the thought of you climbing all over your boyfriend for hours on end. He’s wearing some jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket, it’s his typical choice but he suits it.

Taking your luggage, Sunghoon whispers a ‘hey’ into your lips as he kisses you tenderly. The display of affection only makes Minhee fake gag, “Suddenly, I don’t want to drive anymore,” your brother scoffs, yielding his earlier argument in trade for some peace from the love parade.

You let out a light laugh, moving from Sunghoon to hug Minhee, “You’ve made the right choice,” the airiness in your voice matches the contentment you feel as he hugs you, ruffling your hair in the process. 

While Sunghoon puts your case in the boot, grunting about how heavy it is, you take the opportunity to warn Minhee, “Please be nice to him, okay? I want you both to get along.” It’s a simple request but the seriousness in your eyes conveys everything Minhee has to know.

"I'll tolerate him," he pinches your cheek and offers you an understanding smile when he notices your harsh expression, "Okay, I promise I'll be on my best behaviour." He enters the car with hands raised in faux defence.

You knew he'd behave even before you warned him, but you had to do it since the temptation to fall back into habit might be too strong for both of them. That is why Minhee isn't the only one whom you are warning.

As you walk up to Sunghoon, he closes the trunk with a soft thud, "Can you try getting along with Mini today? It'd mean a lot to me if you guys could at least give friendship a shot," you gently suggest.

"I'll do my best to make us leave here best buddies," Sunghoon replies with fake enthusiasm, "But baby, I gotta tell you, the drive here wasn't great. Did you know he sticks his foot up on the seat? Made things pretty uncomfortable for my girl," he says, giving the car's rear a pat, still bothered by Minhee's lack of respect for the second most important girl in his life.

Your brother wasn’t always the best at reading a situation and considering it’s the first time he was in Sunghoon’s car, he should have been a little more gracious. But he’s Minhee, that’s just how he is.

“Did you tell him not to do it?” you ask, looking through the back window to see the back of your brother’s head.

“Obviously, he just ignored me,” Sunghoon feigns a pain in his heart, “It was tragic.”

His dramatic act earns him an eye roll and no reaction, “I will tell him if he does it.”

With the promises sealed up with one more kiss, you both clamber into your respective seats, ready for the long journey ahead.

The roads are busier than normal, a traffic jam on the motorway is going to add an extra 25 minutes to your time. You don’t mind it, given you're not the one driving, but Sunghoon is getting impatient, the fingers on his left hand tapping on the wheel while his right hand subconsciously grips your thigh, using you like his personal stress ball.

Minhee couldn’t be more relaxed, his body has somehow managed to lounge himself over the back seat, phone in his hand as he plays house flipper. 

“We should put on the radio or something, might make this go in faster,” you suggest, already reaching for the screen. None of them complain, too busy in their own worlds to notice. This car drive was supposed to bond them and so far the only conversation they have had was to text the coaches and let them know they would be late; hardly riveting.

The speakers quietly play the sound of Sza’s Kill Bill which has both of them bobbing their heads. Even just the addition of music has made the car feel less awkward. 

You don’t want to force them to be friends but you also want to say you tried to meld them together in some capacity. These two men are the most precious people in your life and if they don’t get along, your plan to hang out together will be foiled. Even worse, your secret scheme to have Sunghoon over for Christmas dinner would also be ruined. Christmas is already tense enough never mind adding in two people who can’t even speak to one another.

The next song that plays makes Minhee sit up sharply and you whip your head around to look at him.

Maybe it's the way she walked

Singing the song at each other, you and your brother showcase your sibling brain cells by belting out your joined karaoke song. It was unintentional and you don’t remember specifically how it happened, but one day One Direction’s Best Song Ever became the song you would sing together at every function, both of you staying up late to learn the dance and all the dialogue lines. Minhee swore blindly that he would make a better Liam/Leroy than you but you proved him wrong pretty quickly. 

The abrupt change in atmosphere jolts Sunghoon to look at you both wildly while you both sing loudly. He does note how Minhee can actually sing and you, well, you’ve got spirit. The smile on his face gradually gets bigger, the happiness between the siblings infecting him. 

And we danced all night to the best song ever

We knew every line, now I can't remember

He hasn’t seen you get this excited in a while, the pressure of keeping too many secrets from too many people had a weighted effect on you, yet, now that’s gone, you look as light as a feather, enjoying your life free of guilt and shame, a life where you have Minhee by your side and him on the other.

If it’s the last thing he does, he will make sure to become friends with Minhee by the end of the weekend. 

The makeshift choreo you and Minhee created for the verses comes back easily, both your arms flapping around the place, hairography and all the rest of it. The laughter filtering through Minhee’s singing makes you feel like you’re finally home.

Minhee extends a metaphorical microphone to Sunghoon, attempting to draw him into your shared joy. It's not a conscious effort, but rather a natural inclination to include him in this moment, making him feel like a part of the Kang family, even if just for a song. There was also a tiny bit of him hoping Sunghoon had the worst voice out of the three of you, giving him something to slag him about.

“Nope, sorry, I don’t sing,” Sunghoon protests, moving his focus to the ever-so-slowly moving traffic.

“Come on, Hoonie, you know the words! You already told me you were a Louis girl,” you chuckle, also holding out your pretend microphone to join Minhee.

With the Kang siblings eagerly awaiting his participation, Sunghoon relents, quietly joining in the singing. His voice isn’t loud, he’s cautiously singing the song with you and Minhee, letting you both take the lead on it. He appreciates the effort Minhee made to involve him but this is also clearly you and Minhee’s joint thing, he doesn’t want to intervene too much.

However, that’s not sitting with any of you, “Sunghoon put some chutzpah into it!” Minhee encourages.

Minhee is trying his best, the once subconscious act is now intended, he wants you to know he’s trying to get along with your boyfriend despite their past. You deserve that much.

There’s a glimmer of amusement in Sunghoon’s eyes as he gets sucked into the infectious energy of the moment and becomes more vocal. What neither you nor Minhee expects is for Sunghoon’s voice to be as good as it was. You had heard him sing maybe once in the shower but you weren’t paying attention, not like now. Now he has your full attention, leaving him and your brother to harmonise together.

As Niall's part comes on, Minhee playfully nudges your arm, signalling your turn to sing, a cue you eagerly follow. At that moment, the confines of the car seem to expand, enveloping you all in a bubble of pure bliss and laughter. It's something you want to etch into your memory, a snapshot of unfiltered happiness that you'll treasure forever.

The final lines of the song resonate through the air, and a sense of contentment settles over you all, transforming the cold winter morning outside into something warm and inviting, much like a spring day.

Minhee reaches over and pats Sunghoon on the shoulder, offering him a genuine compliment. "You've got a set of pipes on you, mate," he remarks, devoid of any tension, prompting a surprised look from you.

“Thanks, you’re not that bad of a singer either,” your boyfriend relays.

“Nah, it’s just singing next to her I sound like Adele or something,” Minhee pokes fun at you like always, clearly amusing Sunghoon because he just laughs and nods along. Honestly, if making some lighthearted jokes about your singing is the thing that makes them friends, you’ll allow it.

The rest of the car journey is now filled with chatter, mostly you and Minhee reminiscing about your upbringing, telling Sunghoon all the stories that embarrass one another while he drives you closer to the city. 

Sunghoon enjoys the way you two interact, it shows him why you were so determined not to hurt Minhee for all those months, putting aside your own happiness for him. Whenever competitions happened, he got to see you and Minhee’s relationship from the sidelines and that made him a little envious.

Ice skating has always been so lonely for him with no time to make friends with fellow skaters because his mum would be pulling him away to go home or keep him on the ice while everyone else went to get a sweet treat after training. His mum made him so lonely that she was the only one he could rely on.

That was until now. Jay and Jake were always there for him but it’s harder for them to understand since they aren’t in the sport directly, whereas you and Minhee both have grown up in the same gruelling surroundings as him. 

Sunghoon’s jealousy grew the more he saw Minhee, the loving sister, the nice coach, even a little less toxic of a mother, granted his opinions of her have wildly changed now that he knows everything. But even with that, Minhee seemed to have it all - he had everything Sunghoon wanted.

He would trade in every trophy for a little stability, for his dad to still be alive, to have someone devoted to him no matter what. That’s why when he saw you all those years ago, he knew you had to be in his life. 

The hatred he had towards your brother stemmed from his mother’s toxic whispers planting little nuggets of rumours and lies to make him hate Minhee, yet, as he looks at both of you now, he knows it wasn’t hatred, it was envy. And when Minhee said he couldn’t ask you out when he was a teenager, it fuelled anger in him for hogging you.

Your love and kindness shouldn’t be confined to your brother.

But like you said the other day, Minhee was scared to lose you and Sunghoon understood that feeling all too well now.

Enclosing your hand in his, Sunghoon threads his fingers with yours, longing for contact after his brain even thought about you not being with him, even for a second. 

You twist your neck to look at Sunghoon, fondly smiling at him. Watching his eyes shake, you know he’s thinking about something that requires your touch; he always did this, no matter the issue big or small, like having you there was enough for him to brush through the knots in his brain and sort it out. 

It felt so amazing to be so needed and loved like this.

Minhee interrupts the silent show of love and points out the windshield, “Looks like they know we’re coming,” he sighs as reporters hover outside the hotel entrance, cameras hanging at their sides while they chat about nothing. 

Sunghoon and Minhee are used to this but today is the day they’ll make a spectacle over them. For the first time in history, the two rivals are arriving together and not just that, they’re both a day late. It’s the perfect opportunity for them to sniff around and fabricate some sort of story, you’re just scared of what.

Pulling up to the front of the hotel, the reports poise their camera to get the money shot, they don’t know they’re in for a goldmine,

“Remember, head down, no comments, and just get in there,” Sunghoon instructs, earning a scoff from your brother.

“Nah, you can do that, I’m the pleasant prince, I pander to my audience,” Minhee smiles proudly.

This is where they differ in so many ways, how their brands set them apart. You have to say, you’re surprised Minhee is keeping the Princess Diana brand your mum created considering he hates it so much. Then again, it has created more opportunities for him regarding public events and ads.

Your mum was a witch but she knew what she was doing.

It does pose the big question: where is Mum? Is she already here? There has been zero communication between both of you since the phone audio incident, it was sickening to look at her for too long, not that she was home a lot of the time anyway. 

However, right now isn’t about her.

“I think Sunghoon might be right, Mini. They’ll hound you about why you and Hoonie are together,” you put forward, hoping he sees your point. But Minhee is Minhee, he loves being in the spotlight.

“It’s all good, Bubs. I got this,” Minhee pats your head, trying to bounce some reassurance into your brain.

Sunghoon is quick to jump in, “No. Minhee, you keep Y/N safe. There’s no way they won’t push and shove for a picture and if one of them touches her I swear to god, Minhee, it’ll be your head on the hotel pole,” his voice is strong and shoulders are wide and sturdy as he speaks.

You suppress the urge to bite your lip as Sunghoon talks, trying not to give away how much his protectiveness turns you on, although, as much as you’re trying to focus your face on staying neutral, your pussy is meowing out for him, the pants you're wearing sticking to you a little.

“Don’t tell me how to protect my sister, okay, I’ve been with her my whole life, you’ve only got a couple of months under your belt,” Minhee retorts, tone annoyed at the accusation that he would do anything other than put your safety first.

If there was one thing that would make them argue, it’s over you. 

“Guys, let's just focus on getting into the lobby, okay? No pandering, and no punching,” you point to them for their retrospective warnings. You seem to be intimidating enough because they fall back from their tense gazes and start to unbuckle their seatbelts.

When you step out, the cameras click rapidly, a few flashes getting in your eyes which Minhee’s hand reaches over to protect you from, one hand wrapped around your shoulder and the other covering your eyes. The shutters are more intense once they see Sunghoon coming around from the other side of the car.

A few gasps and ‘whoas’ can be heard as your boyfriend catches up to you both. As soon as that happens, all hell breaks loose.

Sunghoon! Are you finally changing your ways?

Minhee, did you steer Sunghoon away from his reckless life?

I’d watch out, Minhee, Sunghoon might be after your little sister next.

The last one creates tension between the boys on either side of you, as soon as you’re mentioned they both want to physically leap over and slap the journalist silly. You don’t like the inclination either, the idea that Sunghoon would just use you for his own gratification. 

Did the reporter say it outright like that? No, but all three of you knew that’s what he meant.

Minhee gracefully bows and smiles as he leads you through the reporters, thanking the ones who respected your need for space.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, remains cold, his look as frosty as usual, displaying little tolerance for the paparazzi's intrusive behaviour. Despite his apparent displeasure, he followed his own advice: keep a low profile and push ahead.

Once the chaos subsides, Minhee gently withdraws from your side, placing a comforting hand between your shoulder blades as he guides you further into the foyer. The interior wasn’t anything fancy; adorned with beige walls, plush couches occupied by guests, and a reception desk manned by two staff.

“Are you alright?” Minhee’s concern was palpable as he peered into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort or vision loss. The flashes were extra bright today.

You shake your head, offering reassurance, “I’m fine, it wasn’t too bad, certainly could have been worse.”

The hotel staff promptly retrieves your luggage from the car, each of your party expressing gratitude. Minhee also hands them a tip, slipping in a signature wink as he did so. 

Sunghoon huffs beside you, stroking the back of your head, “Fucking ridiculous. They’re acting like they haven’t seen us before,” he states, the patting of your head getting rougher the more he thinks about it, “Heard one of them call us Blades of Glory.”

Minhee lets out a loud laugh, clapping his hands in amusement. The other boy didn’t find anything funny about the situation.

The receptionist checks you all in, a room for you and Minhee, and a room for Sunghoon. He had a double room to himself since his mum wasn’t coming.

One thing Sunghoon refuses to speak about is his relationship with his mum, as far as you’re concerned, they haven’t spoken since the argument a couple of weeks ago. Sometimes when you look at your boyfriend when he is training, you wish he had her there. He assures you it’s for the best but you do mourn it a little, hoping they could patch up their relationship and start anew with him as her son, and her as his mother; no manager roles and athlete, just family love.

Sunghoon isn’t so sympathetic to the situation. Sure, he misses having her around but that’s just because it’s a habit, plus, she was his manager and having to navigate everything on his own was becoming overwhelming, but he’ll manage.

Sadly, he doesn’t even miss her as a mother figure.

Luckily, you’re all on the same floor just 4 doors apart. Once you reach your respective rooms, you kiss Sunghoon, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. His hands run up your back, accidentally picking up your jacket and t-shirt in the process, the feeling of his fingertips leaving a warm trail in their absence.

Sunghoon smiles into the kiss, dipping his tongue into your mouth to taste you. He could do this all day, and some days he has, but this time you have your brother impatiently waiting for you both to untangle yourselves.

“Enough, that’s disgusting,” he retches, fake poking a finger down his throat, “Are you guys always like this or is it your attempt at torturing me?” 

Pecking Sunghoon’s lips one more time, you plant your feet back on the ground and face Minhee, “You’re so dramatic. I can kiss my boyfriend whenever I want to,” you sarkily reply.

“Not in front of me you can’t,” he mumbles, face holding an expression of disdain for you and your boyfriend's PDA. He doesn’t protest further, instead unlocking your room and waiting for you to get inside.

Hugging you from the back, Sunghoon leans down, “Come to my room tonight? And the night after, and the night after,” between each request, he kisses your neck, each one lingering a little longer than the last.

The butterflies in your tummy never settle when he’s around and the love in your heart only gets stronger, “I’ll pop in tonight but I promised Minhee I would spend the night before Nationals with him, it’s kind of a thing we have.”

Before every big competition, you and your brother pick a TV show, grab a few face masks and play smash or pass with the cast. You came up with it randomly one night and it stuck ever since, helping him to relax and you to eye up whatever Song Kang drama you manage to persuade him to watch with you. 

Nodding, Sunghoon smiles, spinning you to face him, “Sure, makes sense you guys would have a ritual or whatever,” there’s a tiny hint of sadness in his voice which throws you a little.

“I can ask Minhee to swap it to tonight?” you propose but Sunghoon shakes his head quickly.

“No, no. Do your sibling stuff-”

“You’re welcome to come,” Minhee’s voice interjects behind you. It’s strange how quickly Minhee is accepting Sunghoon into your routines and quirks; first it was the song in the car and now this, “You don’t have to but it would suck for you to be on your own the night before a competition.”

You want to ask what happened to your brother and why a clone has taken over his body, but this is exactly what you wanted, so why fight it?

“I don’t know, seems like your thing, I don’t want to just jump into it,” Sunghoon scratches the back of his hand, a habit he has when he’s nervous. In this instance, it’s cute.

“If I’m inviting you, it’s not you ‘jumping in’ is it? Plus, you get to see your precious girl drool over other men right in front of you,” you nudge your brother's stomach with your elbow before explaining to Sunghoon your plans and that you absolutely do NOT fawn over other men.

Everyone knows it’s a lie.

“Then yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, Minhee,” Sunghoon is genuinely appreciative of the offer. He’s never had anyone to do things like this with, usually opting to just rest up and force himself to sleep early.

Minhee nods, “Great, just don’t be all kissy and touchy, it’s gross.”

A ping hits Minhee’s phone and as he reads the message, his once relaxed face turns tense, “It’s mum. Wants to take us out for dinner after the press conference,” he doesn’t bother replying, locking his mobile and stuffing it back in his jean pocket.

You don’t want to go to dinner with her, or even see her. Truthfully, you hoped she just wouldn’t turn up, “Do we have to go?” 

The pout on your face is exaggerated, your eyes pleading with Minhee to say fuck it and not go, however, he doesn’t give in to you, “I suppose.”

Looking at Sunghoon, they do that stare again, the same one when they came out from their secret conversation at Belmore. They nod to one another, making you even more confused.

Before you can pipe up and ask, Sunghoon gives you one more kiss, “I’ll see you later, baby,” and with that, he retreats to his hotel room. Your boyfriend was probably your best chance at getting information, Minhee is too strong and wouldn’t slip up as easily, so you leave it to rest, hoping that it’s nothing too serious.

One thing is for certain, you know it’s about your mum.

_____

“Can we steal the soap?” Minhee pops his head around the bathroom door, eyes gleaming with mischief.

You and Minhee are resting up after the press conference. All in all, the reporters asked straightforward enough questions, intrigued by Minhee's secret routine and the promised 'surprise' he hinted at. Of course, you've witnessed the routine firsthand and are eagerly anticipating everyone else to experience it with the same amount of awe as you did.

To your surprise, there were just two questions concerning Sunghoon: one asked whether Minhee and Sunghoon were now friends, and the other asked if Minhee was afraid of his rival. Minhee's reaction to both was a solid 'no', however you think the first answer might change.

You sit up on your bed, rolling your eyes in dismissal of your brother’s question, “No, Mini, we can’t steal the soap.” The one thing about Minhee was that he loved a freebee, and you too honestly but you draw the line on bath soaps that you know no one will use and just collect dust in your toilet back home.

“But if I put it in my case and hide these ones, the staff will need to give us replacements,” he says, showing you the tiny bottle of liquid soap as a way to entice you to agree with him.

"Let me guess, then you'll swipe those too?" you retort, crossing your arms.

Minhee nods eagerly. "Of course!" he says it with such conviction, as if you're missing out on a golden opportunity for more soap.

As you get up, you snatch the bottle from his hand and head to return it to its rightful spot. "I'll just buy you some soap, alright? Let's leave these here. If there's any left, we'll take it home." Sometimes, you feel like you take over the role of your mother when you have these talks with Minhee.

"Fine," he grumbles, flopping onto the mattress. "I'll just ask Sunghoon to swipe me some then."

You whip around at the mention of your boyfriend's name, watching as Minhee starts tapping away on his phone. It's like entering the twilight zone.

"You guys text now?" you ask incredulously, eyebrows raised

“Only for important things,” he mumbles, too busy planning a scheme to get Sunghoon on board with his ideas. 

You try to imagine in what world hotel soap is important.

If you could go back in time and tell your younger self that your brother and boyfriend were actually getting along, and not just that, that most of the initiation was from Minhee, you would have cackled in your face. There was no chance in hell of that happening, yet, there is it. All those months of worrying about both of them, the arguments, the fighting, the hatred, all washed away so quickly. 

Sunghoon and Minhee aren’t best friends, they tolerate one another; that’s what they are telling themselves at least. Your brother asked for Sunghoon’s number after the conference to ‘keep an eye on him’ but you knew better than that.

Minhee wanted to be his friend because he knew if he did, you would be happy. Everything in his life, he does for you.

A ping sounds from his phone, and a wicked smile spreads across his face, “Ha! See, your boy is on board!” he shows you the text message from Sunghoon which reads ‘If you get the soap, I’ll grab the shampoo and conditioner. We go halfsies?’

“You’re both ridiculous,” you quip, pushing Minhee’s phone away from you. 

You can’t deny the warm feeling in your chest as you watch Minhee laugh at his phone, the friendship between them both blossoming in front of your very eyes.

A loud knock on the door startles you both, your hand reaching for your chest at the fright. Was it really necessary for someone to bang the door so ferociously at 5pm, especially when the hotel rooms are already small, echoing the vibrations around the walls?

Minhee stands up, making his way to answer rudely to the person on the other side for almost giving him a heart attack; however, when he opens the door, the last person on earth you want to see barges through your door.

“Ugh, can you believe they’ve put me in a room on the other side of the hotel away from you? Took me 10 minutes just to get here,” your mum huffs, blowing her fringe out of her flushed face. She looks like she’s just run the London Marathon, not walked across a lobby and rode the lift.

It’s amazing how one woman can change the atmosphere of the room. The once happy and carefree vibe you and Minhee were basking in has now been sucked out, replaced with a heavy cloud of anguish.

There’s an anxiety creeping up into your chest as you face your mum for the first time since that day. You were unequipped to handle the situation because of her sudden presence, thinking you would at least have a few hours before she requested you for dinner. 

But she’s here, right now, and you have to face this head-on. 

She clasps her hands together and spins to face Minhee and yourself, “I have news,” she exclaims, delighted with whatever information she is about to share.

A quick glance at Minhee and you both share the same sceptical expression. He steps closer to you, hoping that you can find some comfort in his presence, which you do but this is also your conniving mother you’re both faced with, anything can fall past her lips, and that makes this ten times more nerve wracking.

“After Sunghoon pulled that god-awful scheme - so sorry, Y/N,” her words speak of condolences yet her tone is anything but sympathetic, “I have found something else.” The delight on her face makes you feel sick. You know Mrs. Park is the biggest cause for this rivalry, so why is she so intent on bringing Sunghoon down to the lowest pits of hell and back? 

You nor Minhee have told your mum that you know the audio of Sunghoon was AI-generated, or that you and Sunghoon are back to being as in love with each other as ever, in fact, she might have brought you closer together. Her little plan actually got you and Sunghoon to promise to be one hundred percent honest with each other, especially about your feelings for one another. 

Sunghoon meant it when he said he wanted to start fresh, a clean slate, but for him that just meant professing his love to you all over again, determined to make sure you never doubted his true intentions for you ever again. Of course, you did the same, telling him how you would trust him and your relationship before anything else because why on earth do you have any reason not to?

“What are you talking about?” Minhee is the first to speak between you, taking the lead as your bigger brother. He didn’t know what she had up her sleeve but he wouldn’t believe a spoken syllable that came from her mouth; not anymore.

Happily, your mother picks out her phone from her handbag and searches for something. There is a sickening feeling rising in your stomach again, the deja vu washing over you. Minhee senses your unease and rubs your back softly, and as you turn your attention to him, he shakes his head, assuring you that whatever you are going to see will be fabricated.

However, as she passes your brother the phone, you see a video waiting to load and see a familiar-looking lawn.

Oh no.

As Minhee hits play, you see Sunghoon’s fist connect with that boy's face, the same boy that touched you, the night you called him to come get you. The sickness that had stilled before has now reached the tip of your throat, your heart pounding outside your chest only making it boil more.

This is real, this isn’t fake.

The scene in the video is so strange because as you hear your cries for him to stop, you don’t remember it that well. You knew he punched fuck out of the guy but you hadn’t really visually recalled it in your memory, yet, it was like living the feeling all over again. 

Your brother watches the video with the same shock and horror as you do, except, he is more concerned by your shrieks in the background. When was this? He ponders to himself, confused as he continues to see Sunghoon beat the boy down. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Sunghoon killed him. Fuck, he genuinely might have as far as Minhee is concerned.

He recognises the boy in the video, having had a few altercations with Yeonjun and his team himself over the years, so he knows that whatever caused this ruthless beating, it was probably something bad.

“W-where did you get this?” you ask tentatively. If your mother has seen it, anyone could have.

With a glint of victory, she answers, “Facebook of all places! I was just scrolling and someone shared it,” she shrugs, leaving you to battle with the information that your boyfriend's attempt to protect you might be the very cause of his downfall. You recall something he said not too long ago,

“Everything wrong in my life seems to be because of your family.”

Sunghoon spoke those words and you knew they were true, yet, you hoped it excluded you, but this just proves you’re just as bad as your mother.

Minhee feels your distress beside him, your body shaking slightly as you continue to watch the video. He doesn’t know what happened or why but he knows you’re traumatised by it. He stops the video, locking the phone abruptly, “Mum, what does this have to do with anything? This is just a video of him punching that guy from the hockey team,” Minhee tries to downplay it, hoping and praying your mum hasn’t already done something drastic with the video.

“I’m taking it to the board, obviously. He can’t get away with causing violence,” your mum speaks. You take the time in the silence that surrounds the room to wonder if she would be so eager to share the video if she knew why Sunghoon was on his knees, beating the guy to a pulp.

Minhee shakes his head definitely, “No, mum, you’re not,” his voice wavers; this is the first time he has stood up to your mum in such a long time. Her claws were usually so deep into your brother that he stood back and took it, but not any more.

“Huh?” your mum asks perplexed, head tilted to the side in curiosity, “Don’t you see, Minhee, this is how we guarantee you the win, they might let him skate but nullify his points. Remember what we have on the line,” she tries to be secretive but you already know what she’s talking about.

“Stop! Just stop trying to interfere with this, with my skating, with the Parks. Just fucking stop.” The sudden rise in Minhee’s voice makes you jump but he is quick to rub your back again, trying to prove his determination to make this right, for all the times he let her puppeteer him into doing her dirt work.

He breathes out, “I told Y/N everything, and I told Sunghoon. We also know that the phone call was fake and that you’re nothing but a pathetic excuse for a mother,” his voice is venomous, the words harshly leaving his mouth. 

Your mum is silent, not even her breath can be heard amidst Minhee’s speech, “You’ve done nothing but hurt us since dad left, constantly blaming me for putting you in debt, never acknowledging your daughter or any of her achievements. I won’t stand here and let you do this anymore.”

“But Minhee-”

“No, you listen to me. I will win on Saturday and when I do, take all the money you get from this shitty bet and fuck off out of our lives, understood?” You stare at the ground with wide eyes, scared to look up and see the anger in Minhee’s face, his voice being scary enough. 

It’s unlike your brother to get this angry, you thought the extent of his rage peaked when he confronted you about your relationship with Sunghoon. But this is much worse, more dangerous. 

Then again, this is also years of being told you owe your career and livelihood to someone who only uses it against you would also take its toll on you.

Sucking in a breath, your mum moves forward, “What are you talking about, baby boy. I’m your mother,” she tries to soften him up but it won’t work. He’s too far gone in his rage.

“No, you’re not. From this point on, you’re no one’s mum. When you get your winnings, take them and never speak to me or Y/N again. I am sick to the back teeth of you putting unnecessary pressure on me, getting me involved in all this mess with Sunghoon. Not to mention how you’ve been treating Y/N the past few months.”

“You can’t kick me out of my own family!” she protests, all acts of sorrow gone in a flash, replaced with fury. 

“I just have. I’m moving out, I’m taking Y/N with me, and this is the last you will see us,” Minhee’s chest is closing in on itself as he finally loses all cool, ready to give your mum everything that’s been waiting for her.

Exhaling, your mum yields, nodding disapprovingly, “You make sure I get my money. You brats deserve nothing considering the life I provided for you both.”

That last sentence confirmed everything you two already knew, it was always about the money. Part of you wonders if it was always about the money, or if that was just something at came along the way. For your peace of mind, you hope it’s the latter. 

Despite her ways, you like to believe she did love you guys at some point, and deep down still does.

The tension in the room is so thick, it’s choking you, causing you to clam up and stay silent. You want to say so much; how she never gave you both anything, that it was your dad who set you both up with your lives, how she took away your happiness and put the relationship with the love of your life in jeopardy. You wanted to shout and scream at her, but it was useless. She won’t listen, her face beat red.

Without uttering another word, she goes to leave the room, snatching her phone back, but Minhee isn’t done, “Oh, and don’t think for a second of showing that video to any of the skating board, or else I’ll turn myself in about Sunghoon’s skate and tell the police exactly what you’ve been up to.”

Both you and your mother exchange fearful glances – you, worried for Minhee's cherished career, and your mother, concerned about her potential loss of status and wealth.

Clicking her tongue in irritation, your mother scoffs, shaking her head. "You wouldn’t dare," she argues, trying to convince herself as much as her son.

"Try me. I have nothing left to lose," he retorts.

"You wouldn’t sacrifice your Olympic dreams," she counters smugly, believing she's won the argument.

"I would sacrifice anything for my sister's happiness, a concept you clearly can't grasp."

Your eyes fill with emotion as Minhee's words sink in. Could he really be prepared to give up his dream just to protect you from your mother? To safeguard you from any potential harm. As you lock eyes with your brother, a deep realisation sweeps over you: absolutely, he would.

Your mother walks out of the room in a disappointed huff, leaving behind a heavy atmosphere packed with unresolved tension. Left alone with Minhee, you both silently battle with the weight of the dramatic event that just took place, processing it all in your own way.

As the echoes of your mother's departure fade, a solemn stillness settles over the room, punctuated only by the sound of your shared breaths. You and Minhee exchange a wordless glance, each grappling with the weight of the confrontation that has unfolded.

“The video…you were there. What the fuck was that about?” Minhee questions, his voice not quite accusatory, but still webbed in anger. Honestly, you should have expected it, the bloody scene would be a cause of concern to anyone and after he just said he vowed to protect you, he wanted to know how this situation arose.

"It was a party, about three or four months ago, I think," you begin, weighing your words carefully as you try to gauge how much to reveal to Minhee. Your brother is already teetering on the edge of adrenaline-fueled rage, and recounting the details of Heosun's unwelcome advances towards you doesn't seem like the best idea in the current tense atmosphere.

Minhee listens attentively, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Go on," he prompts gently, sensing the weight of your hesitation.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, "There was this guy who wouldn't leave me alone, and Sunghoon came to pick me up, and well, you saw what happened." You lower your gaze, feeling a pang of shame at the memory of the chaos that ensued that night.

Now, with your mother's hands all over the incriminating video, you feel the weight of the burden resting heavily on your shoulders. If she were to show anyone that footage, it could spell the end of Sunghoon's career – all because of the consequences of your past decisions.

Despite Sunghoon's reassurances that none of it was your fault, the guilt gnaws at you relentlessly. It's one thing to hear those words, but it's another to truly believe them, especially in the face of such dire consequences.

Minhee can feel your body tremble and it softens his mood, his brotherly instincts taking charge over his anger. He pulls you in for a hug, scratching the back of your head to soothe your thoughts.

“I would say I’d kill that hockey player if I wasn’t convinced Sunghoon’s already taken care of it,” he chuckles at his attempt to lighten the mood, but your overthinking is taking hold of you, scared for what will happen. 

Knowing you your whole life, Minhee knows what your brain is doing right now, “Hey, you aren’t to blame for any of this. Heosun is the one to blame for trying to take advantage of you,” his fingers dig into your scalp as he says the crime out loud. He can’t stand that he wasn’t there for you during your time of need.

However, he is thankful Sunghoon was there.

He leans back to look at you, your eyes glazed over with thoughts. Patting your head, he tries to reason with your mind, “You can’t let mum’s manipulation make you feel responsible for all of this. Sunghoon is a grown man and he made his choices,” he sees his words infiltrating your doubt, like a soldier breaking down the gate to the castle, “He did what anyone would have done.”

You manage a weak smile, grateful for his support even as the guilt continues to run through you, "I know, but... what if I could have handled things differently?" you mumble, the weight of self-blame heavy in your voice.

Minhee shakes his head, his eyes filled with conviction, “Don’t do that, Bubs. You did everything you could, I believe that.”

His words provide a glimmer of consolation amidst the disarray of your thoughts. For a minute, you allow yourself to lean into his calming presence, drawing strength from your brother's support.

You both sit in silence for a while, needing to calm down from your emotions. The whole ordeal has led you away from a pivotal point in his conversation with your mum, something that you wanted to question.

“What if you don’t win?” you pull your head from his chest, looking up at him concerned. If he doesn’t win, there’s no knowing what your mum might do. She would lose far too much money just to let it slide, not to mention the vendetta she probably has against Minhee after his harsh words.

Calmly, he smiles, “I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.” With a kiss on the top of your head, he releases you from his grip. It’s a clear indication that he doesn’t want to push this conversation any further.

But you can’t help but be concerned.

_____

Pressing your key card to the door, you walk in and instantly hear laughter coming from Minhee and Sunghoon. The sound fills you with a sense of relief, worried that your absence from the hotel room to grab some snacks from the shop down the street was enough time for them to start arguing and throwing punches.

You really should have had more faith in them, particularly after the car journey, yet, you still have a horrible feeling that settles inside your chest because it’s all going too perfectly.

Minhee is doubled over, face red from laughter while Sunghoon’s eyes are wide, an incredulous smile smacked across his features. It’s amazing how well they shine together when they don’t have their mothers putting the weight on their shoulders, forcing them into unhealthy competition.

“She padded it so much to impress you, it was hilarious!” you hear Minhee cackle as he speaks as you shut the door behind you. They haven’t noticed your presence, too caught up in the hilarity of their conversation.

Sunghoon lets out a ‘huh’ in realisation, “That’s what that was? I was so confused, I thought she had a reaction to something,” he chuckles, still processing whatever information Minhee was divulging. 

The atmosphere is light, making you smile widely as you walk further into the hotel room, “What are you guys talking about?” 

Turning to face you, both boys burst into another fit of laughter as soon as they see you. It makes you self-conscious, suddenly making you wish you checked yourself in the lift mirror before coming back.

Minhee wipes a tear from his eye before letting you in on their little secret, “I told him how you stuffed your bra with tissue paper trying to impress him,” he points his head to Sunghoon who is currently rolling on the bed in stitches.

The memory flashes in your mind as your face falls. You were young, foolish, and watched 13 going on 30 a little too much; it was a stupid idea. In your defence, a rumour was circulating that Sunghoon’s ideal type was someone like Irene from Red Velvet and she was so perfect you tried to look like her, stuffed bra and all.

You stand traumatised for a minute as you start to vividly recall the way your tissue boobs must have looked to everyone else, “Oh my…god! Can you guys shut up, I was like 12,” you groan hiding your face behind the bags of starburst and skittles.

“You didn’t even need a bra,” Minhee argues back, clearly enjoying the torment his story is providing you, “It’s my brotherly duty to tell your boyfriend all the embarrassing stories I have about you,” he’s smug, lips upturned in a grin.

Forcefully, you toss his sweets at his head, aiming for pain. But Minhee has fast reflexes and dodges it easily. Out of all the stories to tell, why did it have to be that one? Couldn’t it have been the one where you accidentally vomited all over him after he punched you too hard in the chest or that time you wrote a marriage proposal to Niall Horan and even set a date. Anything but the padded bra. 

Sunghoon is still laughing, also reminiscing about that day, however, he isn’t so embarrassed. To be honest, he didn’t pay much attention, and he certainly didn’t know it was to impress him. Knowing it now only gives him more reason to be completely in love with you because even at 12, you wanted to be with him so much you were willing to change for him.

But he never wants you to change. Not ever.

“I honestly can’t believe you thought that would impress me,” he starts to calm down, beaming up at you; however, he is just as guilty for laughing, so you throw the last packet of sweets at his head. He isn’t so used to avoiding flying objects and you hit him straight on his nose, “Okay, ow!” he winces dramatically.

Sometimes you forget Sunghoon is an only child and didn’t have the sibling reflex, “Shit, I’m sorry, Hoon,” you apologise, leaning down to assess the damage but before you get too close, Sunghoon bursts into laughter once again. Slapping his chest you sit next to him, disgruntled. 

Once he has composed himself, he sits up and pulls you into his side, kissing the top of your head, “Honestly, I think it’s kind of cute,” he whispers into your hair, trying to ease your brass neck. You can’t help but smile at his words, glad that he didn’t see you as some pathetic little girl.

You fail to understand that Sunghoon could never perceive you as anything other than perfect. Sure, no one actually is flawless, but you’re pretty close in his eyes; you’re perfect for him.

“Okay, I will stop telling stories if you guys stop acting so mushy,” Minhee relents, opening his packet of Skittles. 

Tilting your head up, you place a soft kiss on Sunghoon’s lips, just to add a little torment to your brother which works because he’s fake gagging on his bed. He’s so dramatic but you’ll take the teasing over him holding a grudge about your relationship.

“I love you,” Sunghoon whispers tenderly, his hand squeezing your soft side, “padded bra and all.”

“Shut up, oh my god,” you push him away playfully, trying to act annoyed but it doesn’t really work, you can’t stay angry at him for longer than a day - your entire relationship journey has proven that; even when you fight, big or small, you always find your way back to one another quickly. 

You don’t mean to think so seriously in such a lighthearted moment, but you can’t help but be thankful for everything that has transpired. There are times you want to start over completely, not lie to your brother, stick up to your mum, skip the whole ‘friends with benefits’ deal and just be with one another completely. But in truth, it’s just made your relationship stronger, both of you releasing that there isn’t a day you both don’t want to be together.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, Sweets?” he asks in a whisper, petting you with love. 

You shake your head, “Nothing, just happy. That’s all.” And it was the truth, you’ve never been more content with anything in your life.

Minhee clears his throat, “Guys, seriously. Glad you’re all in love but can we pick a show now?”

Sunghoon and you shuffle to sit on your bed, getting comfy as Minhee flicks through the TV section on Netflix and when you and your brother both see My Demon in recently added, you both turn to one another, smiling brightly.

Your boyfriend isn’t completely aware of your obsession with Song Kang, but he is about to find out.

_____

As the hours go by, face masks have been done and subsequently making the whole room smell of paella and vanilla, you begin to hear Minhee snoring on the other bed; you’re 5 episodes into My Demon and clearly, he has had enough. Fair enough, it is reaching midnight and he is up extremely early tomorrow, but so is Sunghoon and he is wide awake, not caring about his beauty sleep one bit.

In fact, he has started caressing your thigh a bit too close to a certain area. All night he’s found some way to touch you, either a hug, spooning you, or grazing his fingers over any skin that isn’t covered. Luckily for him, your shorts have ridden up just enough to leave the tops and inners of your thighs exposed.

You push his hand away, “Mini is right there,” you speak lowly, trying to caution him off but Sunghoon couldn’t care less, only tracing up further to your core.

“He’s sleeping,” he argues back as he spares a quick glance to a passed-out Minhee.

Honestly, he was so sick of you melting when Song Kang popped up on the TV, he’s not afraid to admit that he’s jealous. Every time you held in a squeal as the actor smiled or had his top off, he knew he had to get you back to reality, back to the time when all you saw was him. It was childish but he doesn’t bother to worry about that, knowing you like it when he’s a bit possessive and clingy.

You sit up straight to face him, eyes flashing in warning, “He could wake up,” you’re trying to reason with him but his face doesn’t show any sense of understanding of how badly this scenario could end. You’ll do a lot with Sunghoon but fucking him while your brother is in the room is a hard pass. He was insatiable, you always knew it, you just thought he had some decorum when it came to having sex in front of family.

Smirking, Sunghoon rolls his eyes, “With how loud you are, he probably would wake up.” Teasing you isn’t the best approach for getting what he wants, he sees that in your peeved expression, “Fine, how about we go to my hotel room?” he offers as a solution.

With his fingers now dancing along the top of your pussy, you quickly agree, already standing up and pulling him out of the room, making sure the door doesn’t slam shut. 

Once you both enter his room, he wastes no time, kissing you roughly like he has been wanting to do since you changed into your little pyjamas. The heat from his body is a telltale sign that he’s ready to just ravish you as soon as he gets you naked.

And that he does, stripping you of any material you have on and pushing you onto the bed. You’re a vision in front of him, some hickeys and bruises scattered over your body from the last time you had sex, which in Sunghoon’s mind, was far too long ago. 

With hungry eyes, you watch as he sheds his own clothing, revealing his arousal as he strokes himself slowly. Your breath catches in anticipation, craving the feel of him inside you, the throbbing intensity of his desire mirrored in you.

“I’ve got a surprise,” he says suddenly, licking his lips mischievously.

You lean on your elbows, confused by his words, “What kind of surprise?”

Holding a finger up, he  bends down to his suitcase, rummaging through it to find something, only making you more curious, “It’s in here somewhere,” he states more to himself than you, his smile widening as he comes across something, “There you are.”

As he stands back up, you look into his hand and your jaw hits the floor, “Where did you get that?”

Sunghoon stands proud as punch as he twirls the pink rose toy in his right hand, smiling at it happily, “I know a thing or two, Sweets.”

You had your own rose toy at home, literally more prized than the award you won a few months ago. It’s your saviour when you’re too stressed or just craving some release when Sunghoon isn’t readily available. You hadn’t told him about it, so you’re a little shocked he had one.

It also looked much better than yours so you’re going to have to sneak it into your bag before you all leave on Sunday.

Snaking his way to you, he shows you it up close, “Y’know, I used to think these toys were the enemy, taking away something from me,” he pauses, spitting on the top of it, rubbing his saliva into the creases of the rose petals, “But then I thought, it could really be an asset.”

Pressing the power button on, the machine starts to vibrate and suck in air, making you swallow dryly in anticipation. You knew how good it felt when you used it on your own so you can only imagine the power it holds in Sunghoon’s hands. 

Sleeking it to your folds, he wastes no time in pressing it directly on your clit, wiggling it around to make sure he has it on your sweet point. As you gasp and fall flat on the bed, he knows he’s found it.

Sunghoon knows how it works but this is admittedly his first time seeing it in action and by God was he glad he stumbled across it on Twitter. The way you’re already wriggling under its suck is causing his cock to jump straight up in arousal. This is such a nice change for him, to see how your tits move from side to side as your body responds to the sensation on your clit, your mouth falling open so beautifully as whimpers escape. Normally, he’s got a different view, his head buried where the rose toy is right now; he’ll need to find more ways to witness you from this angle.

“Hoon! It’s-” You don’t get to finish your sentence as he loosens the toy which only makes it suck your clit up harder. What you were going to say is that it’s already got you close, the mix of the vibration and everything else proving a bit too much. 

Typically, when you use the toy back home, it’s a 5-minute job, the flower living up to its hype, and now is no exception. But there’s something even more arousing about your boyfriend being in control of it all. If it got a little intense, you could normally pull it away of your own accord, but with Sunghoon in control, you don’t have that luxury; you need to power through the fire that is burning within your nub.

Seeing you close, he licks and bites his bottom lip, thinking of how he can take credit for some of this climax, rather than congratulations only being on the vibrating machine in his hand. He suddenly shoves three of his fingers into his mouth, gathering his spit onto them before brushing them along your hole. 

The rose already has you super wet so it’s easy for him to slide his digits right in, getting to work on finding your spongy spot, the very spot that he always curls into and gets you cumming. 

With the addition of Sunghoon’s fingers, your eyes roll to the back of your head, only the whites of your eyes visible. It’s intense and you’re going to cum so hard over his fingers you might genuinely be spent after this one orgasm.

Like a crash, you cry out his name, chanting a few swear words for punctuation as you cum. Your clit throbs and puffs out as you orgasm, only making the toy have more to suck and pulse onto. It’s like heaven and hell all came at once, not sure if the pleasure outdoes the pain or vice versa. To be fair, the pain isn’t excruciating, you just feel yourself being overstimulated by the rosebud and Sunghoon’s fingers which isn’t a bad thing, just takes some time to adjust.

Sunghoon’s fingers thrust into you fast, each time he drags it out, more of your essence is left on the hotel covers, painting them a darker shade of ivory. He thinks it’s a waste, how the bedsheets get to soak up your juices when it should be his tongue, but he can’t change up the pace now, your body speaking the words you can’t. You’re enjoying this far too much.

“Sunghoon, please!” you whine while your body instinctively tries to retreat from his touch to find relief. 

“You want something, baby?” he asks so innocently, his fingers still thrusting into you with velocity, “Use that pretty mouth of yours.”

He sits on his knees, looking down at you to wait for your response, one he knows will take all your strength to muster. You’re a sight to behold; eyes screwed shut as you try to work through the overstimulation yet your mouth breathing out loud moans. 

“Cock,” is the only word you can say, so drunk on the pleasure that you’re practically dumb in lust, not a thought in your brain other than getting fucked by Sunghoon’s thick cock.

He laughs lightly, shaking his head, “You want my cock?” your boyfriend’s ego is already big but when he gets you into bed, it increases tenfold. He adores that you want him and his body just as much as he wants yours.

“Fuck, yes, Hoonie, please,” you beg, trying to remove both his hands so he’ll just slip into you. 

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” he says huskily, his heart swelling in his chest with pride. 

However, what you want him to do is remove the toy with his fingers, which is clearly a pipe dream since the next thing that happens makes you scream. 

His fingers are replaced with his long cock, but he doesn’t remove the toy from your aching nub, rather, moving it even more directly over you, dancing it along with your body as you try to get away. He’s being so cruel to you, causing this torment of excessive stimulation.

Sunghoon doesn’t see it that way though, he knows when you finally relax and ride through the burning, you’ll be begging him to keep going. Also, with every thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, he gets a jolt of vibration hitting the end of his shaft, giving him a new sense of pleasure.

He hasn’t ever used toys on himself, his hand and you being all he needs, but he might just have to find a few new ways to incorporate some toys into the mix. Perhaps he can convince you to let him use a massager in the future.

Jackhammering into you, he throws his head back, getting lost in the feeling of your walls slamming down on him. Your body is busily thrashing beneath him, only giving the tip of his member new areas to get in amongst. 

“You feel so fucking good, Sweets,” he groans out, only going faster and deeper into you. The toy is an excellent companion, however, it’s limiting his horsepower, wishing he could just bend you in half and drive into you with no mercy. 

Finally, he takes the flower from your clit, and your body instantly relaxes. The cold air whisking over your hot pussy is like breathing in fresh air after being in a stuffy room for too long; it’s heaven. 

It doesn’t take Sunghoon long to find a new purpose for it though, placing it over one of your hardened nipples, “Hold that there for me, baby,” he asks, making sure that your nipple is full inside the hole of the toy. You feel the vibrating all the way up to your jaw, but you oblige, anything for him to fuck you like he always does.

Getting into a new position, he finds a new harsher rhythm, his pointed thrusts snapping into you with the purpose of getting you both off. Sunghoon’s entire body is rocking, the bed squeaking lousy under you both, only drowned out by the clusters of your moans.

Before you know it, you’re cumming again, this time, you think you’re going to squirt all over him, the feeling of release far too intense to be a normal few sprits that will coat his cock. Instead, you roar loudly, like no noise you’ve ever made before, one of those groans that comes straight from your toes and through your chest. You lose grip of the toy and focus on finding anything to anchor onto, scared you might float away with your second climax.

Hearing you cry out erupts a drive in him, his hips moving into you just as you like it. Flinging your legs over his shoulders, he grabs both of your hands in his and piledrives into you, his lips finding yours in a fevered kiss. 

You can tell he’s close too, the heavy rise and fall in his chest a dead giveaway. His cock is leaking cum into you in short bursts, causing his hips to jerk quickly into you, almost like he’s trying to make sure his dick is stuck inside you as deep as it can possibly go. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he chants, a little bit of drool falling from his lips which you gladly lick up before slipping your tongue into his mouth. Sunghoon can’t stop cumming inside you, each time he thinks he’s finished, a few more ropes escape him. 

You can feel both of your cum running down your ass cheeks, the escaping liquid running hot as Sunghoon musters up any energy he has left to hold himself above you, “I think I might have set a new record for how much cum can spill from a man,” he laughs, giving you eskimo kisses.

Reaching over, you turn the rose toy off, leaving the room filled with only your intertwined heavy breaths and laughter. You feel so happy in this moment that you could honestly die happily right now.

Sunghoon climbs off you, pulling you up with him, leaving a gentle his on your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom to find something to clean you both with. You lean over the bed, finding one of his t-shirts sitting in his suitcase and putting it on your spent body. The best part of spending any form of time with Sunghoon is stealing his clothes.

Walking back in with a face cloth, he wipes your pussy and thighs down, his fingers fishing out any cum remnants left. The sudden curling of his finger makes you clench again, “Sorry, Sweets. That was just a lot of cum, need to make sure it’s all out,” he whispers.

“I’ll go pee, that’ll help,” you say back, pushing him away to give you a pathway off the bed to excuse yourself to the toilet.

While you’re in there, he tidies up and puts on some fresh boxers, his cock still softening from the intensity of the fucking it just had. As he picks up the rose toy he smiles, chucking it into his case with a promise to use it at least once more before you leave. 

“Tomorrow is a big day, huh?” your voice travels from the bathroom as you wash your hands. 

“I suppose so,” Sunghoon responds, a little too nonchalant. 

He should be nervous, it’s a massive competition that is broadcast to thousands. Sure, he has done this a few times but surely with the ankle injury, he should be a bit apprehensive about going out there. 

You climb onto the bed and sit on his lap, arms circling his neck, “Why don’t you seem worried about this?” you ask, playing with the ends of his dampened hair.

In response, he shrugs, “I’m the number one skater, why should I be?” This isn’t his normal cocky attitude, this is something else. He knows something that he’s not telling you.

And you’ll be damned if you’re kept in the dark about another thing.

“Tell me the truth, Sunghoon. We promised not to lie to one another anymore.”

“It’s not lying if I just withhold information,” he replies, his lips trying to distract you as they pepper kisses up your neck and behind your ear.

But you push him away before you do get too into it, “That wasn’t the case when I ‘withheld information’ about Minhee breaking your skate,” you retort, hating to bring up the past but when push comes to shove, you’ll do it.

Closing his eyes, he nods in understanding. Sunghoon knows you’re right, you don’t deserve to be in the dark, “I’m throwing the competition tomorrow.”

The room goes quiet as you process his words. At this moment, you feel a sense of burden creeping back onto your body, “What do you mean throwing it? You haven’t lost a competition like this since you turned 16.” He isn’t the Nation’s best skater for nothing, he’s proved time and time again that he’s not to be underestimated.

Suddenly, the conversation with his mum pops back into your head for some reason. Her lack of acknowledgement of Sunghoon’s talents must have been with him for so long - fuck, they might still be with him. Maybe he’s throwing it in defiance?

He sees you think it over and over before he finally interjects, “I’ll still place top 3, Sweets. I’m just making sure he comes first, that’s all.”

“Why would you do that? You know if he finds out, he’ll be livid.” You can’t imagine Minhee ever wishing Sunghoon to yield it so easily, your brother worked too hard to perfect his routine to win by some giveaway.

“Okay,” he breathes out, knowing this conversation is about to get a little difficult, “We both decided it, actually. That day we went into the coach's office? Yeah, that’s what he wanted to talk to me about.”

“You want me to what?” Sunghoon asks, accompanied by a scoff. 

Minhee bites his tongue from making any rash comment, needing the other skater on his side for his plan to work, “I want you to throw Nationals.” 

Letting a venomous laugh out, Sunghoon shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re seriously asking me to purposefully lose at Nationals after everything you’ve done to me? To Y/N? You can forget it.”

Storming off, Sunghoon can barely reach the door before Minhee swings him back around to face him, a fire in his eyes that Sunghoon has never seen before, “Look, this isn’t for me. It’s for Y/N.” 

“Yeah of cours-”

“Let me fucking finish, Park,” Minhee snaps, his voice raised and arm gripping Sunghoon a little rougher, “Y/N told you about our mum, how she has stakes on me winning?” he waits to make sure you did actually have such a conversation with your boyfriend, to which Sunghoon nods, waiting for your brother to continue, “If I win, she gets a boat load of money, it’s all illegal and there are rules and stakes that I don’t even know the full detail of but either way, she’s playing it dirty with some big bosses. She took money from some guys to put the bets on, y’know?”

Minhee’s explanation isn’t convincing his counterpart, wondering where you come into this, “I don’t hear Y/N’s name in this. If your mum has a gambling addiction, that’s between her and the guys she’s fucking over, not my girl.” 

“The bets are in Y/N’s name.”

“What?” Sunghoon yanks his arm from his grasp, stepping back a little, “You mean she’s tied up in all of this?”

Nodding, Minhee feels the familiar boil of rage within him. He still can’t fully comprehend how his mother could do this to you, she is meant to look after you, not cause you harm, “I know, it’s fucked. If mum loses these bets, guess who everyone is going to be gunning for?”

Sunghoon’s heart quickens, the thought of you being in danger is making him feel sick and the words hang heavily in the air between the two people who love you the most. Your entanglement within this mess of a web was the last thing Sunghoon thought Minhee would say.

“So if you win, and she gets the money…”

“Then they get their cut. Happy days, my sister is no longer in danger,” Minhee rubs his temples, trying to give his brain a moment to gather itself before he divulges the rest, “I’m telling you this because I know you love her and as I said, you’d be doing this for her.” 

There is so much to think about that Sunghoon’s brain is sparking out a little, but one thing is for certain, he is going to do everything in his power to protect you, “Fine. I’ll lose. But how do we know your mum won’t do something else?”

“I don’t,” Minhee confesses truthfully. He has no idea if she’ll even give the men their cut once he wins, “I’m gonna tell her that I know about her gambling and the illegality of it all, hope that scares her enough to not try and fuck any of us over, y’know?”

“That’s all you’re going to do? The love of my life is out there with a target on her back and you’re just going with a presumption that she’ll back off by a threat?” There is steam coming from Sunghoon’s head and his fists are balled up in rage. This isn’t something to be taken lightly.

Minhee holds in his frustration, knowing Sunghoon is only looking out for you, but the lack of faith in him is making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool, “She might be your girlfriend, but she’s my sister, alright. I have been doing everything in my willpower to keep her safe since we were little…Listen, I know my mum, she’s scared and I can see it. She’s way deeper into this than she knows how to deal with, she wants that money and to get away from those gambling sharks, yeah? My mum won’t do anything like this again, I feel it.”

It’s a hunch, a loose, untrusted huch, but it’s all he’s got. He just wants to protect you right here and now. If your mum stoops low enough to bring you back into a mess like this, he’ll sort it when the time comes.

Seeing Minhee’s resolve, the raven-haired boy retracts, calming down. He knows Minhee is trying his best, and if he can keep you out of immediate danger by coming in second at a competition, he will gladly do it.

You sit still, processing the bomb that has just been dropped on you. The gambles being in your name is something you had no idea about, hence why they probably didn’t tell you about this grand plan. 

What does someone even do in this situation? 

Sunghoon rubs your arm reassuringly, trying to get you to speak or even make a noise of acknowledgement. He can’t imagine how difficult it must be to hear this for the first time but he knew that he couldn’t tell you; if he let you in on Minhee and his secret, you would have tried to solve the problem yourself, to help everyone else in the situation as best you can, and he couldn’t watch you do that, not when none of this was your fault.

“Don’t throw it,” you say firmly. 

Sunghoon freezes, his hand stilling on your arm as he looks at you, surprise evident in his eyes. He hadn't expected those to be the first words to break the heavy silence that enveloped the room, “What the fuck are you talking about? Are you crazy?” 

Perhaps you are, but you can’t watch anyone sacrifice their livelihood, especially a chance of gold at Nationals, just for you. It’s selfish, on both your part and your mother's. No, you didn’t ask to be put in this situation, but there was something you could do now.

Unfortunately, this is what Sunghoon was afraid of.

“You saw Minhee’s skate, he’s phenomenal. I want him to win this properly,” you confess quietly, still struggling with the information relayed to you only minutes ago.

“What about your mum? Sweets, this is a full-proof plan to get you both away from your mum, to let you both live without her mess,” his left hand cradles your cheek as he moves closer to you, as if hearing the solution from a closer distance would suddenly help change your mind.

It won’t, you’re determined to have this conversation end your way the only option forward is, “Please, Hoonie. If he loses, we will deal with it…but I believe in Mini so much, especially after seeing the rehearsal a few weeks ago. I want him to know he can win this on his own merit.” Your eyes search for any ounce of understanding.

Sunghoon's brow furrows in frustration, his mind racing with the weight of the decision before you both. He wants nothing more than to protect you, to shield you from harm, but he also knows that he doesn’t want to upset you and go against your wishes.

Taking a deep breath, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his embrace offering silent reassurance and support. "Okay," he says finally, his voice tinged with resignation. "We'll do it your way. I won’t throw the competition but ONLY if he does well. He’s on before me on the card so I’ll make the call then,” he can barely believe he’s agreeing to this.

A mixture of relief and fear wash over you. You understand the gravity of his concession, knowing that it's not an easy decision for him to make. It fills you with gratitude that he actually listened to you.

"Thank you, Hoonie," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath as you lean into his embrace, seeking solace in his comforting presence. "I promise, we'll figure this out together. And Minhee... he'll do amazing, I just know it.”

The belief you have in your brother is something Sunghoon only wished for growing up, seeing how determined you are to make sure Minhee knows he’s talented enough to win and solve this mess by just being good at what he does makes your boyfriend a little envious. He knows why Minhee is so protective of you, but now seeing how you protect and only do the right thing for one another, putting your sibling before anything else, it’s admirable.

“What time is he on?” you ask, twiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“2:35pm. I’m on at 3:45pm so I’ll see the scores and whatever in plenty of time to determine what to do.” There is a new sense of life in Sunghoon, certain that no matter what happens tomorrow, he’s going to make sure you and Minhee walk out happily, with no worries perched on your shoulders.

taglist (closed!!): @heelee-01 @zerasari @beomgyusonlywife @iwaplant @monstanctiny21 @chiiiiiiiiis @minniejenseo @run2gyuz @jngwnlvs @haelahoops @capri-cuntz @nctislifue @jaehoonii @weyukinluv @skzenhalove @enhypenlovre @cherriruto @bambangan @who-tf-soddhi @nxzz-skz @nshmrarki @hotsforikeu @enhastolemyheart @erehkinnie30 @judeduartewannabe @neosexual @fakeuwus @positivelyinlovewithjungwon @tobiosbbyghorl @kimsunoops

[shawnxstyles]

personal

DATE: JULY 24, 2023

summary: you and harry are best friends who tell each other everything. or so you thought. when harry finds out you’ve barely done anything sexual, he offers to change that. and then things get a little… personal.

song: Glitch- taylor swift (this song seems fitting)

words: 6.5k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [rubbing, fingering, nipple play, praise kink], mirror sex, cum tasting??, dirty talk), and language.

note: i literally wrote this in a few days i think. this idea is so basic, but who doesn’t love a cliché concept? PART 2

bestfriend!fratrry x inexperienced!reader (because i literally write no one else and fratrry is the love of my life)

—

Harry had a lot of friends. People that he grew up with and some that he met along the way that just stayed. But you were his number one overall, and he told you everything. You told him everything too.

Well, almost everything.

It never really caught his attention that you guys never talked about sex. You guys have been friends for 15 years, since you were five, so you’d think it would have been brought up at least once. But now that Harry thinks about it, he can’t think of one time you’ve talked about the act.

He didn’t think it would be like this. And he didn’t think you’d answer like that.

You and Harry were casually hanging out on a free school day, just like you always do. And then you start talking about this date you went on and how the guy was great. Harry was happy for you, he really was. All he wanted was to see his best friend happier than happy. However, being the best friend he was, he was nagging and joking with you.

“Think he’s the one, eh?” Harry jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully on your couch.

“Oh, stop it. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” You roll your eyes and cross your arms. Yeah, Mike seemed like a decent guy and maybe you could have a relationship for a short time, but he was nowhere near “the one.”

You weren’t too desperate for a relationship, you liked whatever came to you. This cute guy asked you on a date a week ago and you weren’t going to say no. Because what if he was the one? He wasn’t, but what if?

“Imagine it, Doll,” Harry started. He began calling you Doll when you two were just kids. You loved to collect dolls of all sorts, but you never dared to take them out of the box. Harry thought it was silly, but also cool. “picket white fence, beautiful lake house. Kids runnin’ ‘round—”

He saw your face cringe at the word kids. He tilted his head in confusion, arm moving to rest behind you on the couch. He scoots closer to you and waits for you to respond.

“No kids for me,” You awkwardly chuckle. It seemed almost sad the way you sounded.

“What? Thought you wanted to be a mum?”

“Not anymore,” You breathed out with an awkward smile, “need a husband to do that.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout getting a husband. Shouldn’t stop you from wanting ‘em,” Harry smiled sincerely at you and you nodded while looking down.

“Plus, you could always just go out on the street and ask some good-lookin’ lad to be the father of your kids!” You socked Harry hard in the shoulder. He lets out a hearty laugh because he always ruins a sweet moment with a stupid joke. That’s just how you like it though.

“I’m not a prostitute!”

“Never said tha’.”

“Can we just watch some TV? You’re annoying me,” You roll your eyes as you reach for the remote. Harry continues to laugh as you switch the television on.

When you’re indecisive, you toss the remote to Harry and he shuffles through the stations. He lands on a random one, also indecisive. You guys were too similar sometimes.

“Look on your phone for somethin’ and then I’ll find it. I’m done searching.”

“You looked for like two seconds!” You laughed at his laziness. He shrugs with a smile, leaning into the couch. Again, you roll your eyes playfully before doing a bit of research on your phone.

Suddenly, a moan echoes throughout your living room and your whole body stiffens up. Harry notices and tears his eyes away from the screen, which was portraying the sexy noises. You don’t look at him even though you can feel his eyes burning into you.

“Alright?” he asked out of concern, peering at your rigidness. He’s only ever seen you get like that when you were anxious or scared, but nothing happened. Maybe you saw something scary on your phone?

“Uh, yeah,” You squeaked as the TV moaned again. Your face cringes and you force yourself to keep your eyes on your phone.

“Y/N, seriously,” Harry stares between you and the screen when she noisily moans again. The woman was being eaten out by the man and was being overly loud. Her back was arching and her breasts were on display. The movie was inappropriate, 18+ for sure, but it was nothing you hadn’t seen before. Right? You were both 21 years old.

“This… just makes me a tad uncomfortable is all,” You answered honestly, voice quiet as your legs tightened together. Harry’s eyebrows pursed together.

“Uncomfortable? Why?” he couldn’t help the question that slipped out of his mouth. He was too curious to know why a little movie made you stiff yet fidgety.

Unless… you were feeling something different than uncomfortable.

“No,” You shook your head and attempted to push yourself off the couch. Harry didn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and pull you back. He didn’t want you to run away and for you to feel like you couldn’t tell him something.

“Just tell me.”

“No,” You stood your ground, way too embarrassed to say something. Way too embarrassed to admit that you’ve never had sex before. Way too embarrassed to admit you’ve never done anything more than rub your own clit. Once. And it didn’t even feel that good.

Your skin was fiery and… tingly. Harry was much closer to you than he previously was because he pulled you closer to him. Your bare thighs were touching, warm on warm with a sudden spark. You didn’t know you weren’t breathing until you inhaled deeply at Harry’s hooking stare.

“Doll, you tell me everything, but you can’t tell me why a little porn makes you uncomfortable? Because I know it’s tha’.”

“Ugh,” You groaned between clenched teeth. You threw your head back until it hit the top of the couch. Harry’s grip on your wrist never left you. He squeezed it reassuringly, letting you know that he supports you in whatever you’re going to say.

Are you really about to say it?

“Y/N, just—”

“No.”

“I thought we were best friends—”

“Do not pull that card!”

“But—”

“I’ve never had sex before, okay?” You shouted over Harry’s pleading voice and the echoing moans from the television. You’d think by the time you had a whole argument they’d be done having sex, but nope.

Harry was cut off, so his mouth was slacked open. Once he realizes his jaw is on the floor, he blinks a few times to really process what you’ve said. If you had told anyone else, they would have harshly judged you. Harry wasn’t necessarily too different, but he was your best friend, and he was going to try his hardest not too. Harry was just more shocked if anything. He had a handful of different bodies, enough to give him a good amount of experience. So when he finds out you’ve done nothing, he’s beyond surprised to his core.

“But you’ve had so many dates,” Harry looks over at your face, which was looking down at your lap. Your wrist was still trapped in his hand, but you were twiddling your thumbs like you were in trouble. He starts rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb over your knuckle. Your skin was so hot, and Harry’s theory of you being turned on continued in his mind.

Did you even know what that meant? You were naive, right?

“So? That doesn’t mean anything,” Your attitude was shining through. But deep down, you were more embarrassed than anything. This was just your coping mechanism. And of course, Harry knew that.

“Surely you’ve done something else,” Harry suggests. You pin him with a knowing look and a long blink.

“I haven’t,” You answered before even hearing his question. He clearly doesn’t care about your reply because he’s asking you a series of interrogation questions.

“Have you had someone eat you out—” Harry points to the screen, but it was on a commercial break now. You got the point, but Harry clearly didn’t.

“No,” You grumbled.

“What about fingering—”

“No.”

“A toy?”

“Where would I even buy that?”

“Or—”

“No, Harry. Nothing.”

“Not even rubbing?” he asks. You stay quiet, unsure if you want to admit the one-time experiment you did.

Why does it even matter? You tried it and you realized you don’t like it, so you never have to do it again right?

“Not… really,” You hesitated. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion while your skin burned at boiling temperature.

“Humping?”

“No—I tried to…” You couldn’t get the words out. Not ever you’d think. But especially not with Harry so close to you. His body was warm, not as warm as yours, but it was eliciting something inside of you that you couldn’t comprehend. The way he nonchalantly said so many dirty things made you dizzy.

“Tried to what?” Harry was thinking of so many things you could say. He wanted to finish your sentence, just like how he wanted to finish you until you were crying his name and soaking him. But he wanted to hear you say it. He’s never thought of you in such an explicit way, but with the words and tension floating in the air it was hard not to.

“…do it myself.”

“And how did that work out, Doll?”

“Um,” You didn’t expect him to ask. Your neck and cheeks light up in small flames. Where did this come from? “I…”

“What? I thought you could tell me anything?” When your eyes flickered up to his, they were a dark, swirling green you’ve never seen on his face before. Your heart skipped a dangerous beat, frightened with anticipation.

“I know, I can. But this… it’s different.”

“How so?”

“It’s personal—”

“Best friends are personal.”

“But not like this. Best friends don’t do this,” You tried to get up again, nearly ripping yourself away from his grip. But you were in too deep now. Harry wasn’t going to let this one slide. His mind was thinking about one thing and one thing only.

You.

He yanks you back and twirls you around, releasing your wrist in the process. He grabs you by the hips and pulls you down to his lap. You couldn’t contain the slight gasp you let out at the feeling of his strong legs beneath you. Your legs were on either side of him, tempting to squeeze shut. Every movement you made Harry would feel in this position.

“Best friends can say anything. They can do anything too,” Harry’s hands caress your thighs. They’re comforting and inviting, but are also sending a field of goosebumps along your skin warning you to flee. It’s hard to focus on anything but his touch and the vibration of his words through the air. “Now, tell me, did you rub yourself?”

“Yes,” You stutter, trying to stop your hips from squirming on his lap. He notices and grips one side of your body to steady you. It only makes you want to shift more. His touch was almost overwhelming, but you wanted more of it.

Was it wrong to want more of your best friend’s touch?

“Did it feel good?”

“No,” A part inside of you was a bit disappointed that it felt so bland. You thought masturbation was this great thing, and that’s why people did it so frequently. You heard it was also a stress-reliever, but for you, it was just a stress-inducer. Harry could tell by your tone that you weren’t lying.

“Well, you probably weren’t doing it right,” Harry replies and you look up at him with a slightly startled expression and a scoff. You didn’t expect his response to be so straightforward, like he was a doctor diagnosing you with some disease.

“How could I do it wrong? Don’t I just rub…?”

“Baby, it’s much more than that,” Harry said sincerely. He’s never called you baby before, but the nickname had your heart jumping. “Were you even wet?”

“What? I—probably? I don’t remember…”

“You would remember.”

“The experience wasn’t very memorable,” You grumble with an eye roll.

“Do you want me to show you?”

His question had your head spiraling. He wanted to what? There is no way. There is no way those words just left Harry, your best friend’s, mouth.

“W-what? That’s way too personal!” Your eyes were wide and your skin was burning. You were nearly dizzy with this whole conversation and your stomach was tight. You thought you might need to lie down for a while.

Maybe you were sick. Yeah, that’s it.

“Best friends are personal, Doll. Just let me show you, yeah? And then we never have to talk about it again. If y’don’t want. Please,” Harry’s charm was convincing you. Everything about him was luring you in, completely different than ever before. The way his eyes was dark and his touch was warm made you feel wanted and needed, which was contrary to your past dates. They didn’t look at you this way, nearly beg for you this way. They didn’t show you anything. They wanted you because they wanted to get their dick wet, but they hated the idea of a virgin.

And Harry’s familiar. He’s safe. You don’t have to be afraid when you’re with him. But then why are you so nervous?

Harry was willing to teach you how to do the one thing you’ve been curious about your whole life, and you’re going to pass up the opportunity, why? Because he’s your best friend?

Isn’t that supposed to make it better?

“Okay, fine,” You inhaled as your hands gripped onto his T-shirt on his shoulders. You had convinced yourself to let the words slip out. “Show me.”

You were agreeing almost as if this wasn’t a big deal for you. But to Harry, it was. He would take your firsts, and something about that filled him with pride. A smirk slowly rides up on his lips, “Now?”

A blush cascades through your body. Of course he didn’t mean right now!

“I-I thought you meant—”

“Shh, relax, Doll. I was just makin’ sure,” he smirks again, pulling you closer to him. He loved watching you get all squirmy and flustered more than he thought. You could feel his body heat more than ever now, and you’re surprised you lasted this long on his lap without dying. “I’m going to give you a few options, okay?”

With anxiousness, you nodded and swallowed.

“When we do this, you have to talk. So use your words, Y/N,” You knew he was being serious when he said your name, so you replied with yes and then he was giving you your options.

“So, I can lay you down right here on the couch and show you how to rub your little clit,” his explicit words were making your privates ache, but it wasn’t painful. It kind of felt… good? You felt a foreign liquid dampen your underwear, and you can only assume that’s the wetness Harry was talking about. “Or, you can do it yourself on m’thigh with my help. Which one sounds like something y’want to do?”

“The first one,” You answered, painfully desperate to squeeze your legs together to stop this ache. “But how will I see what you’re doing?”

Harry thought for a moment. You made a good point. How were you supposed to learn simply from feeling? Harry knew you were a bit of a visual learner, so he wanted to make sure you saw how to pleasure yourself correctly. And he knew the perfect way to do that.

“I actually have a third option. But s’not really a choice anymore,” Harry doesn’t say anything after, he just lifts himself and you off the couch without warning. You wrap your arms and legs around his body like a koala, making sure you don’t fall. His warmth encompasses you back and you wish you could just stay there forever.

Familiar. Safe.

When your head peers up from his shoulder, you’re in his bathroom. Your eyebrows pinch together, curious as to what his third choice was.

He sets you down on the floor until your feet are planted. You unwrap your arms from him, still confused.

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” Harry’s eyes were still dark, and you wondered if they would ever go back to the strong, emerald green they used to be.

“Yes, of course,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. There was no one that you trusted more than Harry that wasn’t in your bloodline.

“Okay,” Harry breathes, “Strip f’me. Keep your bra and underwear on.”

You nearly questioned him in shock. But then you remembered what the whole goal of this was. He was going to show you how and you were going to listen, right? So you did.

Carefully, you stripped yourself of your clothes. He’s seen you in bathing suits before, and some were revealing, so this can’t be as bad, right? Harry didn’t peel his eyes away although you wanted him to. He hasn’t seen you naked since you two were little kids, and even though you weren’t naked, it felt like you were with his burning gaze. Obviously, there were some changes too. Like height, hair, breasts, ass… the whole thing. Harry doesn’t say anything until you’re in your undergarments.

A swimsuit is definitely different.

“Good. Now, c’mere,” Harry sits down on the floor, a few feet away from his full-body mirror. His body was up against the bathtub wall to keep himself steady. You slowly lowered yourself to the floor, wondering what was going on through his head.

He pulls you between his legs until you’re pressed against his body. His warmth radiated through you far better with less clothes on and your body ached some more. Your legs closed to squeeze it away.

“Nuh uh,” he declines. Harry grips your thighs with his ringed fingers and yanks them apart. You gasp at the extreme vulnerability and the coolness that waves over your privates. He throws your legs over his and bends them slightly, making you unable to move at all. “Keep them open, yeah?”

You nodded, but that’s not what he told you to do.

“Words.”

“Yes. Keep them open.”

“Good girl. You’re learning,” Harry smiled and looked towards the mirror. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the growing wet patch on the front of your cotton panties, and he couldn’t help but smirk. He saw and felt your body squirming similarly like how you were on his lap. He’s had a rock-hard cock since this conversation started, so he’s not surprised if you can feel his hard-on poking your back through his shorts.

His hands rested on your knees as you watched him in the mirror. The entirety of it all was extremely erotic, like something that would be on TV.

“If you like something, tell me. If you hate something, tell me. It’s important that you do so, okay? It helps both of us learn.”

“Okay,” You were nearly shaking with anticipation. You were so nervous, but why? It’s just Harry. It’s just Harry. “I kind of like when you say I’m doing a good job. Makes me feel… nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry tried to conceal the smirk that threatened to rise on his lips. Of course his best friend, who happened to be the most innocent person in the world, had a praise kink. It just made too much sense. “Like when I call you a good girl?”

You sighed and nodded, but Harry didn’t say anything this time. He just kept going.

One of his hands rested on your knee, tracing delicate circles. He stayed in the same spot, for god knows how long, and you wondered when he would do something. He seemed to be in a trance. He was hyper-focusing on every centimeter with those circles, and although you were getting impatient, you felt cared for.

One of his hands snakes to your chest and rubs your nipple through your bra. Just when you were about to protest, his fingers moved a tad lower. The roughness of his pads tickled your skin just right and caused your thighs to squirm. It was entertaining for Harry to watch you get all squirrely from such a simple touch.

He’s going to have fun with you.

“It… tickles,” You observe as your eyes look down at his fingers, very gradually moving closer to that ache in between your legs. You felt like a kid exploring a new world for the first time; naive and curious.

“What does?”

“Your fingers,” You stare at him in the mirror almost as if he’s stupid. What else would tickle?

“Does this tickle?” Harry’s knuckle brushes the inside of your thighs, lower than he’s been. You inhale at the subtle sensitivity.

“Not much,” You answer, and his knuckle continues to sway leisurely. Your breath picks up, rising faster at his hand’s proximity.

“What about this?” His index finger traces the hem of your panties with purpose. You gasp when he gets deep in between your legs, outlining your cunt with ease. Your legs attempt to shut with a shake, shying away from the vulnerability, but it’s impossible with his strong legs prying you open.

“A-a little.”

“And this?”

As if his touch could be anymore teasing, he finally dances along your clothed cunt, tracing your lips with curiosity of how you’d react. A mix of a sigh and a moan wavers out of you unintentionally, hips pushing closer towards his finger. Your mind blanks, light and fuzzy. Your face immediately falls to gaze at his movements, attracted to the air-headed feeling.

“Eyes on the mirror,” Harry demands while delicately caressing you. It was ironic, really. His voice was so rough and stoic while his touch was ever so gentle. With a few blinks, you're focusing in on the mirror, obeying his command. “How does this feel? Does it tickle?”

“Good, and yes,” You swallow your moan as his finger keeps petting you lightly. You were almost getting used to it, but you wanted more. “Is this what I was supposed to do?”

“Sort of. This is called foreplay. Heard of tha’?”

“I think so?” You were breathless.

“S’basically where I get you all wet and ready f’me. You like that?”

“L-love and hate relationship right now,” You pant as his finger rises away from your weeping, covered hole and travels up to your clit. You choke out a gasp as he strokes it nonchalantly.

“Oh,” Your hand drops to his thigh, gripping it strongly as your body begins to tingle. You strain your neck to keep your eyes on the mirror ahead of you, trying to watch how he does it.

His familiar smirk never fades from his face, cheeks a tad rosy from the heat waving between you two. His wrist is probably sore from the tedious, repeated movements he does. His thick fingers delicately circle your covered clit, applying generous pressure until you’re panting.

“More. I think I need more,” You suggest when his pace stays a consistent speed. You needed to feel his fingers on your bare skin. If he was going to touch you, you wanted him to just do it already.

“Y’think?” Harry’s tone was taunting yet serious. He wanted you to be firm with what you wanted. He didn’t want you to second-guess your own pleasure. If you needed more, you needed to tell him that. The best way for that to happen was for him to train you. “Beg for it.”

As your head becomes floaty with the stimulation, you don’t even hesitate to throw out pleads.

“Please, Harry. I-I need it, need more,” Your head slowly falls back onto his shoulder before his touch is gone. “Wha—”

Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to see you. All of you. He needed to see what he did to you, and if you were really as desperate as you seemed. As shocking as this all may be to you, it was just as shocking to Harry. He couldn’t believe he was this turned on from his best friend’s inexperience. He’s always liked when a girl knew what she was doing and knew how to reciprocate. But something about Harry teaching you and showing you the ropes just fills him with a kind of power and pride that he can’t get from anywhere else. And he’s feasting off of it.

“M’gonna take these off, alright?”

“Everything? O-okay,” He unclipped your bra as you slowly slid down your panties. The tile beneath you was colder than before, but Harry’s warm body behind you kept you comforted.

“Have you heard of the traffic light system?” he asks, hands resting gently on your bare shoulders. He gets straight into the safety part first. It also distracts him from ogling your naked figure against him. He could feel his cock twitch in his briefs at your fluttering pussy and peaked nipples.

“I assume you don’t mean the ones used for driving?” You both chuckle and break some of the swollen tension in the room. It was a nice little reminder that it’s just Harry.

“No, Doll. The one for safety and consent,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, no, I’ve never heard of it.”

“If you say red, I’ll stop instantly and ask what made y’red. Communication is key. If y’say yellow, I’ll slow down and ask you again. And then we can either continue or stop, whatever y’want. But if your color is green, I’ll keep going. Understand, love?”

There was a lot of information, but you were able to keep up. It was actually similar to the traffic light system, which makes the name very fitting. You reply with a firm yes to note that you understand.

All while he was talking and explaining everything, you were getting used to looking at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t always confident in your body, but staring at it in between Harry’s made you feel safe and sexy somehow.

Before your mind can wander too far, Harry’s hands are falling down until they’re at your nipples. His rough fingers lightly pinch the already-hard buds until you’re pushing up into his touch. The warmth and the nakedness made you overly flushed all over. He gropes your breasts with care, slyly sliding another hand down lower.

Throughout this entire process, you’ve been soaking; in your underwear, in your shorts, and now on his bathroom tile. Your lower body has been throbbing in desire to be aided, and Harry seems to know just what you need.

His fingers hover right above your mound that’s screaming for him to go lower. Your heart rams against your chest in anticipation of his bare hands on your bare body, on your most sacred and vulnerable parts. No one has ever touched you beside yourself. A small part inside of you was glad that the first person was Harry because you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

Right?

“Stop thinking s’much,” he says, rubbing a warm palm over your belly. His face moves your head, so his lips can kiss your temple reassuringly. You slightly arch your back, so maybe he could see how desperate you are. Your legs were still spread by his, so you know he can see your wetness. If you can see it, so can he. “Just let me show you how it’s done.”

“Okay, Mr. Cocky,” You roll your eyes as he shifts your hair behind your ear, “What if I don’t even like it?”

“The name is very fitting. But that’s for a different day,” he says with a cocky smirk on his face. Now that sounds like something Harry would say. But your entire face gets warm and your head gets a little fuzzy when you actually imagine it. “and you will. Trust me.”

You take a deep breath. You weren’t sure how far you guys were going to go, but you’ve never felt more ready and more safe. With the system Harry told you about and all his reassurance, it was clear that even if he was teaching you, you were the one that had all the control.

“Now watch me.”

With those words his hand turns into just one finger and resumes on your clit. You gasp into the air as your body jolts. The roughness of his thumb paints your arousal over and over on your skin.

“This little thing is important. Don’t neglect it.”

His rhythm is slow and tedious as he circles the nub. You see and feel him dip down to collect some more of your wetness as he continues stroking you.

“How’s this? Color?” he gruffs in your ear while staring at you darkly in the mirror. You could barely understand him because you were panting embarrassingly and trying your hardest to focus on the reflecting glass in front of you.

“Good! Wait—green,” You corrected yourself as a moan elicited from you, his touch feeling even better each second.

“Good girl.”

“Fuck,” You feel yourself clench around nothing but your own wetness at his words. You both watch as the liquid quenches out of your dripping hole, making Harry groan from behind you.

“Do y’think you can handle one finger? Hm?” his voice rolls perfectly into your ear as he twists your peaked nipple. You couldn’t control your moans at the pleasure. His voice sounded just as good as the feeling of his hands.

“Yes, yes. Harry, please,” You nearly cried from how bad you needed it. You didn’t even know you needed it this bad. You thought you were going to hate this feeling, but you’re far from it.

“So submissive, so responsive,” Harry’s middle finger pushes against your hole, teasing the opening. You hold your breath as he makes you wait. “Breathe, Doll. Relax.”

Your eyes close for a moment. You breathe deep and feel your limbs lose their sudden tenseness. Before you can open them again, Harry’s finger is slotting inside of you easily. A gasp falls from your mouth as your hand grips on his meaty thigh for support.

“O-oh.” The feeling was insane. Intense. Nearly overwhelming. You clenched around his digit, consuming and caging it like it would fade away.

You’re so tight around him, he swears his finger might fall off. Harry’s cock is pulsing and pleading behind your back, but you don’t seem to notice. He’s making sure he doesn’t rut into you, but it’s so difficult when you’re all spread out and submissive for him.

He’s never thought of you like this, but fuck, now he can’t think of you any other way.

“Color, Doll?” Harry grumbles in your ear, voice low and breathy as it fans over your skin warmly.

“Green. What’s more than green? B-blue? Just–don’t stop–God,” Your squeaky voice rambled as his finger pumped in and out slowly. You can hear his smile behind your screwed eyes. The pad of his thumb rubbed delicate circles over your throbbing clit to escalate the pleasure.

Your chest was beating fast when your legs started to shake. Your hips bucked closer to his hands, needing more as you chase the glorious feeling.

“Look at you, takin’ me so well,” Harry praises, subtly curling his finger as your back arches. You know that one finger isn’t a lot, barely anything, but you were melting at the praise that Harry gave you. His constant encouragement is what made you putty in his hands. Literally.

“Harry,” You moaned into the heated air, causing Harry to groan desperately behind you. And you’re not too stupid to deflect that Harry might be turned on from the scene unfolding. If you knew more, if you knew better, you would have offered to help him after. But you were inexperienced, and you assumed he wouldn’t want someone to give him head who could possibly bite his dick off.

“Are you close, baby? Hm? Gonna come for the first time on my hand?”

“Y-yes! Please,” You begged as you climbed your high, wondering what the top would feel like if the chase was this blissful.

Your head falls restlessly on his shoulder while his right hand keeps focusing on your cunt. It was covered in your arousal as his pace picked up. The stimulation was almost too much, your body wanted to push away. But your mind was pleading to feel a release you know your body needed.

“Is it gonna h-hurt?” You groaned as your cunt clenched around him again, stomach tensing. A strong rush you assumed could only be an orgasm was approaching you all too fast.

“No, Doll. It’s gonna feel real good,” He twisted your nipple again, pushing you over the edge. You felt his thumb and index pinch your clit, causing you to scream his name against his chest. “Look in the mirror. Watch yourself fall apart f’me. Watch and make sure this time is memorable.”

You always thought Harry had a way with words. You never thought that about dirty talking though. His hands were as skillful as can be, and maybe one day you’ll be able to make yourself feel as good as he made you feel. But his words are something that you’ll never be able to treat yourself with. You don’t think you’ll ever meet another person whose voice is as fitting as Harry’s.

With his demanding tone, you came right over the edge. An overwhelming ripple of pleasure ceased through your body, shaking your legs to the max. Soundless moans and clawing nails were all you were capable of as you came on his large hand. Although you were straining, you never took your eyes off of the mirror. He told you to look at yourself as you came, but you were only staring at the glaring green eyes reflecting back at you. He rubbed all of your orgasm until you were trembling from overstimulation.

Just when you thought he was done, he raised his ringed hand to his mouth and tasted you. You thought that was something that they only did porn or movies. You swallowed intensely as his hum vibrated through you.

“Do you always… taste it?”

“If I think it’ll taste good,” he smirked as you scooted forward to grab your shirt. As you throw it over your head, you just had to ask.

“Did mine taste any good?” You slightly cringed as you asked the question. Does cum usually taste good? What does it even taste like?

His smirk widens, a hint of evilness rising, “do you want to find out?”

Your skin flushes even against the chilling tile. Your heart skips a beat at trying yourself. You hadn’t ever thought of it before. But you’ve come (literally) this far tonight, so why not just take it a little further?

“O-okay,” You slowly lift up your shirt, revealing your fucked-out cunt to him again. “So I just…?”

“May I?” he suggests.

“Yes.”

Two of Harry’s fingers swipe over your cunt, which was still covered in a mix of your arousal and cum. You jolted from the stimulation, tensing quickly before his touch was gone.

“Open,” and without thinking, you do. Your mouth falls open as his fingers lay flat on your tongue. Salty and creamy, it spreads over your tastebuds. You hummed around his fingers just like he did because it tasted good. Yeah, it was a bit odd, but once you got past that, you realized how erotic and sexy it was. “How’s it taste?”

After a bit of suckling on his digits, he puts them out way too soon for your liking. “Good, actually.” You creak from your dry throat.

“I think so too. Let’s clean you up real quick.”

Still sitting on the floor, a warm, wet towel soothes your sensitiveness as he wipes away all of your liquids. A smile broke out on his face when he finished before his hand landed on top of your head. He shook your hair like crazy until it was already wilder than it was. The action was childlike and friendly, almost as if everything between you guys never happened and you were back to square one. It was better that way, though. Right? To just go back to how everything used to be?

Harry grabs the small hand towel and exits his bathroom. You assume he went to discard it and add it to his laundry, but you just sat there in oblivion. You already missed his touch, longing for something you should’ve never even had in the first place. He was the one that offered himself to teach you, but now you’ve been taught, so where do you guys go now? Are you really supposed to just go back to the way it was?

He saw you in ways that no one else has before. You always thought that you would be intimate and have your groups of firsts with someone that you were dating, someone that you loved. Because of this, you realized that Harry was the safe option. Doing this with Harry changed your views on everything, and your body, heart, and mind couldn’t keep up with the rapid reversal.

You knew that Harry had a few notches in his belt. But were they all from relationships or just one-night stands? You didn’t know because you two rarely ever discussed the topic. Was it easy for Harry to go from girl to girl? Or did he get attached like you?

If there was one thing you always feared from sex and sexual doings, it was the intense attachment. You had heard about the infamous addiction intimacy laces within your veins that makes you crave a person. Now that you’ve been with Harry, that won’t happen to you, right?

You’ve known Harry forever, yet you’ve never craved him. He’s your best friend, and you’ve never seen him as more than that. If it was anyone else, you’d probably lose all control because you have no significant relationship with them. It would be easy to latch onto anybody because it would be easy to lose them too. Harry, on the other hand, was not easy to lose.

The last thing you want is to convince yourself of anything. You don’t want to “crave” Harry just because you saw something about an article online about “sexual chemicals fusing.” You couldn’t. No, it was too risky.

You’ve known Harry forever, so you couldn’t lose him forever too.

“I think I found a good movie to watch!” Harry’s voice echoes from his living room and all the way into the bathroom where you haven’t moved a muscle. Your overthinking was louder than it’s ever been. With a shaky breath, you rise from the tiles and stare at your disheveled appearance in the mirror. The same mirror you watched Harry finger fuck you with.

“Be out there in a second!” You shout back as your heart beats rapidly from his heartwarming voice laughing loudly at something. You clutched your chest, wondering why the fuck you were feeling the organ lurch for him in a way that wasn’t meant for him.

You knew that it was way too fucking personal.

—

thanks for reading angels 😙 part 2

taglist: @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @raajali3

[omgrachwrites]

My Oh My (Mattheo Riddle)

Mattheo Riddle x Potter!Reader

Request: Do you do song based requests? I was hoping for a Matthew Riddle x potter!Reader based on the song My oh my and/or Shameless from Camila Cabello. You are so good at writing that tension in between characters that shouldn't be together but want to break that forbidden love trope lol - anon

Warnings: fluff, swearing, mentions of sex, wolfstar being adorable

A/N: I hope this is okay anon! Hope you guys all enjoy, I love you all! xxx

You crept along the silent corridors, hoping to Merlin that you wouldn’t get caught by a ghost, or Mrs Norris for that matter. You would have stolen the Invisibility Cloak if Harry wouldn’t miss its absence, you did always have to remind him that your dad had told you to share it but he wouldn’t listen.

It was well past midnight so it wasn’t likely that anybody was going to be in the Common Room. You grinned as you recalled your earlier activities and your knees almost weakened.

They say he likes a good time (My, oh my) He comes alive at midnight (Every night)

You whispered the password, apologising to The Fat Lady for waking her up and you crept through the portrait hole.

“Where have you been?” a quiet voice came from beside the fireplace making you jump.

“Fuck, Harry!” you swore at your older brother and sighed as he waited for you to answer his question, “I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk,” the lie rolled of your tongue so easily that it surprised you.

Harry nodded, your answer seemed to satisfy him, “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose, “Hermione woke up and you weren’t there so she panicked. Then, I panicked,” he chuckled, “I was just about to come and look for you.”

Guilt twisted in your stomach as you smiled weakly at Harry, “you don’t have to worry about me Harry, I promise. I’m gonna go up to bed, night Harry.”

“Night, Y/N,” he smiled as you went up to bed. You went to bed feeling like the worst person in the world.

The morning dawned bright and early, and you were walking a little bit behind your friends as you all walked down to the carriages. You were still feeling guilty about the night before so you were keeping your distance. You felt a cold hand wrap around your wrist and you were pulled into the nearest broom cupboard.

“What the fuck?!” you yelped, rolling your eyes when you came face to face with the cocky Slytherin. The same Slytherin that you had shared the previous night with.

My mama doesn't trust him (My, oh my) He's only here for one thing But (so am I) Yeah

A little bit older A black leather jacket A bad reputation Insatiable habits

“Hello, darling,” he grinned, his hands coming up to grip your waist, “I wanted to see you before we all go home for the summer.”

“Well, you’ve seen me, Mattheo,” you laughed as he rolled his eyes, “people will get suspicious if we’re in here for much longer.”

“You will write to me this summer, won’t you?”

You cupped his cheek, trailing your fingers across the scar that he’d received from duelling, “I’ll try,” you promised.

He nodded at your answer before leaning in to kiss you, you kissed him back gently, your fingers digging through his curls. As he pulled away he bit his lip and looked away from your face, “I like you, y’know.”

You laughed at the flush that spread across his cheeks, “I like you too.”

Your friends weren’t that far ahead so it didn’t take long for you to catch up with them, “are you alright, Y/N?” Ron asked.

“Yeah, all good,” you nodded, slightly out of breath, laughing when he slung an arm over your shoulders.

It was a couple of weeks into summer when you walked into the kitchen and heard Harry whining to your mum, “why do me and Y/N have to come though?”

“Oh no, where are we going?”

Your mum looked at you with a sigh as if talking to Harry exhausted her, you knew the feeling, “we’re going to The Three Broomsticks for dinner tonight.”

“What, why?”

“Because,” Lily rolled her eyes, “Sirius wants us to meet his new partner.”

“What’s the point in that when they’re just gonna break up in a couple of months?” since your mum and dad had been in school Sirius held a torch for Remus, but he’d never said anything. Sirius’ relationships barely lasted 6 months.

“That’s exactly what I said,” your dad laughed as he walked into the kitchen.

Lily sighed but you could tell that she was trying not to laugh, “don’t encourage them, James.”

When you and your family arrived at The Three Broomsticks you noticed Sirius and Remus sitting at the table. There was no one else there and they looked pretty nervous, “do you think…?” you trailed off, looking at Harry.

Harry shook his head, “nah, they definitely would have told us by now,” you nodded but you knew first hand that that wasn’t always the case.

As you walked over to the table, Sirius smiled up at you all in greeting and you sat down, “so, everyone knows Remus, obviously,” he laughed and Remus offered everyone a little wave like you hadn’t known him for all your life.

“Does this mean that you guys are together?” Harry asked what everyone else was thinking and when Sirius nodded, your heart leapt for joy. Two people who you loved more than anything had finally found each other, you couldn’t think of anything better.

Your mum and dad whooped, “yes! Wolfstar is real!”

Remus laughed, looking relieved that everyone was taking this so well, “what the hell is Wolfstar?”

Lily flushed as she looked at James, “it was our ship name for you in school, we’re so glad that you guys are together!”

Sirius grinned, “thanks guys!”

“First round is on me,” James grinned, “come on, Y/N, you can help me.”

“Oh, dad!” you whined as you followed him to the bar.

You didn’t notice the bartender until he came to take your order, “what can I get for you?”

You froze when you realised it was Mattheo behind the bar, he stared at you in turn, his blue eyes widening. Your dad put the order in and when he wasn’t paying attention, you leaned over the bar to speak to Mattheo.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He shrugged as he poured the pints, “thought I’d keep myself busy,” he hissed, “since the only person I want to speak to won’t reply to my letters.”

You bit your lip, you really did feel bad about that one, it had been a jam packed summer already, you hardly had any time to write secret little love letters, “Theo…” you trailed off as your dad paid for the drinks and Mattheo shook his head at you.

As Remus explained how Sirius finally had the guts to tell him how he felt, you couldn’t help but watch the handsome boy behind the bar as he walked from customer to customer with cat like grace. He grinned at a little old woman and spent a lot of time speaking with her, you wished you could hear what he was saying. You liked him like this, it always seemed as though he had to put up a front in school, you wished he could be himself but you supposed you couldn’t blame him, considering who his father was.

Unfortunately, you weren’t as subtle as you thought because your mum saw you looking at him, “who’s that behind the bar?”

“A boy from school,” you muttered, taking a sip of your Butterbeer.

“He’s Mattheo Riddle. Voldemort’s son,” Harry blurted out.

“Harry!” you hissed.

Lily scowled as she eyed him curiously over her wine glass, “he looks like trouble, I hope you’re staying away from him, Y/N.”

“Of course mum.”

When you spotted Mattheo going outside, you made excuses about how you wanted to get some fresh air as you followed him out. You found him leaning against the wall, lighting a cigarette, “those things will kill you, y’know,” you giggled.

“Among other things,” he blew out some smoke, not looking at you.

“Theo,” you sighed walking towards him, “I’m sorry that I haven’t been writing to you.”

Mattheo sighed as he looked at you, touching your cheek, “I understand, you have to protect yourself.”

“I’m not trying to protect myself, I’m trying to protect you! Do you what my parents would do to you if they found out about us? Not to mention my brother.”

Mattheo smirked at you, his blue eyes surprisingly bright in the dark of the night, “trying to protect me huh?” he grinned when you nodded, “I lied by the way, when I told you that I liked you. I meant to say that I really like you,” he flushed and you marvelled at how something like this could embarrass him, after all you would together in The Room of Requirement.

“I really like you too.”

Mattheo flicked away his cigarette as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he leaned in to kiss you. You sighed against his lips, tasting the mint of his gum and the smoke from his cigarette, it was an intoxicating taste.

He was onto me, one look and I couldn't breathe Yeah, I said, "If you kiss me I might let it happen"

I swear on my life that I've been a good girl Tonight, I don't wanna be her

He pulled away from you slightly, resting his forehead against yours, “a forbidden, secret romance is actually pretty sexy, Y/N,” he smirked.

“You’re such a prick,” you laughed as you pulled him in for another kiss.

[alwritey-aphrodite]

head first, fearless

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x single mom!reader

Warnings: swearing, motherhood

Word Count: 5.5k

Author’s Note: here she is!! I also have ideas for a little follow up if anyone’s interested! And a very big thank you to @sokkigarden for being so lovely and helping me so much with this one

Some days you’re convinced Keeley Jones was put on this Earth simply to make your life better. When you’d moved next door to her five years ago, you never would have thought that the brightly dressed, brightly smiling woman would become one of your closest friends and your go-to babysitter.

It didn’t matter if it was a Wednesday or a Saturday, twelve in the afternoon or twelve at night, Keeley would take five-year-old Stella into her home with open arms and a bright smile.

“Anything you need, babes, I’m always here,” she’d told you the very first time you’d asked her to babysit at the last minute with tears in your eyes, and you’ve come to learn that she meant it.

So today, when you received a call from your boss at nine in the morning on a Saturday, you didn’t think twice before bringing Stella next door. Stella was settled on your hip, chattering away about how excited she is to see Keeley and all the fun things they’ll do together while you knocked on the door.

“You aren’t Keeley,” you say, confusion clouding your face at the man in front of you. He seems vaguely familiar to you, like you’d met in passing before, but you couldn’t place him.

“Jesus, Jamie,” you hear a voice from behind the man and he moves out of the way to reveal Keeley rushing towards the door, “sorry about him, he doesn’t know not to answer the door at other people’s houses,” she tells you as she rolls her eyes before reaching out for Stella with a bright smile.

Stella wriggles out of your arms and rushes towards Keeley’s plush couch with barely any time for you to plant a kiss on her forehead. You sigh with a mixture of relief and exhaustion, gathering yourself mentally before you head into the disaster zone that is your job.

“She’s been doing this thing where literally all she eats is strawberries,” you tell Keeley before you rush off, “but I’m sure you could get her to eat anything.”

“I’ll try my best,” she tells you with a wink before she all but shoves you away, “now don’t you worry about us, we’ll be just fine.” You smile at her one last time before you rush off to work, knowing Stella will be safe and happy for the whole day.

“Who was that?” Jamie asks, trying to seem nonchalant as he watches Keeley pour juice into a sippy cup as the little girl uses her chubby little fingers to turn on her favorite show.

“Oh that’s my neighbor, she’s a single mum and her boss is a total dickhead so I watch Stella whenever I can,” Keeley explains, leaning against the counter as she levels Jamie with a knowing stare, “she’s real fucking fit and I wouldn’t mind watching Stella while she does something actually enjoyable, like go on a date.”

Jamie’s a little embarrassed about how easy Keeley is able to read him, able to clock the way Jamie looked at you as he lingered in the doorway. You seemed magnetic, drawing Jamie towards you even as you rushed away and left him with nothing but the desire to know you better. Keeley stares for a few more seconds, long enough for Jamie to squirm under her gaze, before heading over to give Stella her breakfast with a giant smile.

Unsurprisingly, you were right, and Stella eats anything that Keeley makes for her, even the broccoli she had screamed at the night before. She ate it all with a smile, and Jamie was a little terrified at how quickly the little girl was taking over his heart. He’d always loved kids, loved getting to spend time with them and listen to the nonsensical way they talked, but something about Stella seemed different. She had been apprehensive about him at first, but by the time nap time rolls around, she falls asleep in his lap, her little head nestled against his shoulder.

This is how you find them when you rush home before dinner, not even bothering to knock or wait for Keeley to let you in. There’s still a Disney movie playing softly on the TV, and Keeley and Jamie are talking quietly so they won’t disturb Stella, even though you’re sure that girl could sleep through anything.

“Hi, babe!” Keeley greets you with a grin as she pats the couch next to her, and you’re so exhausted you don’t even think twice about sitting down, “Wanna stay for dinner?” She always tries to get you to stay for dinner, tries to get you to let someone take care of you for a change, but you’ve never once accepted her offer.

Today, though, you’re tired to your bones, and even the thought of ordering takeout seems like too much work, so you just nod. Keeley squeals before she looks over at Stella in mortification, but she’s still fast asleep against the man who opened the door that morning. Keeley must catch you looking because she sends you a wink before introducing the two of you, “That’s Jamie, Stella really seems to love him,” and then scurrying off to the kitchen.

At that, Jamie seems embarrassed, his cheeks tinged pink as he glances down at Stella, “I can try to hand her to you, if ya want?”

“Oh, no, I can never get her to nap this long,” you reassure him, and it almost feels like a swarm of butterflies are let loose in your stomach when he smiles at you.

The two of you talk quietly, Keeley joining in whenever she has something to add, and before long Stella is up and happily watching cartoons again. When it comes time for dinner, she demands to sit next to Jamie, practically vibrating with excitement at the idea of spending more time with her new friend.

Watching the two of them interact throughout the meal creates a pit in your stomach and an aching in your chest, as Jamie kindly helps Stella cut up her food and shoots her a wink when he steals a bite off of her plate and Stella just giggles and grins her way through the meal. As much as you’d like to stick around and catch up with Keeley and thank her properly for all of her help, you’re feeling the need to run so you help clean up in the kitchen before dragging Stella back home.

She’d been more than reluctant to leave and seemed on the verge of tears until you promised her ice cream before her bath and now she’s happily eating her dessert while recounting her entire day from the moment you dropped her off to the second you walked through the door.

“Jamie’s really nice and he let me do his hair and taught me to play football and Auntie Keeley said he thinks you’re pretty and…” you zone out after that, and even though you know Keeley was probably just teasing her friend, the thought sends you into a tailspin.

Sure, Jamie was obviously attractive and he was clearly great with Stella, but you barely knew each other and Stella could be lying to you because she’d recently started doing it just for fun. Knowing Keeley, though, she’s always trying to play matchmaker, and you wouldn’t put it past her to try and set up two of her single friends, regardless of if they’re compatible or not.

Still, you decide to spend some quality time searching for Jamie online after Stella goes to sleep.

What you don’t know, though, is that as you spend hours scrolling through all of Jamie’s socials, Keeley and Jamie are having a very similar conversation next door.

“Please just ask her out!” Keeley pleads for the thousandth time, pouring a glass of wine as Jamie pulls up the most recent episode of their favorite reality show.

“Keeley, I don’t know her at all.”

“I know, but I know her! And I know you, and I know the two of you would have a great time. Please, Jamie, the two of you deserve to have a good time and I want to babysit for something other than her boss being shitty.”

Jamie seems to be contemplating it, and Keeley knows she has him.

“I’ll give you her number, maybe invite her and Stella to a game, and then you can ask her out to dinner?” Keeley’s been toying with the idea of setting the two of you up, and now that you’ve actually met it seems like the most perfect idea and she knows you’ll be perfect together.

Keeley doesn’t wait for confirmation, going ahead and sending Jamie your contact information as he turns up the volume on the TV, as if to drown her out.

“And I’ll know if you don’t ask her,” she adds as she sits down next to him, feeling the need for one last push.

“Watch the show, Keeley,” Jamie says as turns his attention to the drama unfolding as if his heart isn’t racing at the idea of seeing you again, at the idea of taking you out for dinner.

It takes him a while to gather his courage, and he couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times he’s typed a message to you before quickly deleting it. He’d briefly considered asking his teammates for help, but that would mean explaining the whole situation and he remembers how intensely involved everyone was with Sam’s Bantr girl and he has no desire to be on the receiving end of that.

Instead, Keeley’s endless messages of Text. Her. push him over the edge until he types a text and hits send instead of delete.

Hey, it’s Jamie from Keeley’s house. Do you and Stella want to come to the game on Saturday? The seats are next to Keeley.

He couldn’t help the way he checked his phone every five minutes after hitting send, or the way his stomach swooped once you sent a reply.

Stella would love that, thank you :) she hasn’t stopped talking about you or football

Jamie needs to tamper down his smile when he reads that because he knows if any of his teammates catch him smiling at his phone, he’d never hear the end of it. Instead, he tells you that Keeley will have the tickets for you and he goes about the rest of his day as if his stomach isn’t full of butterflies at the idea of seeing you again or getting another text from you.

Saturday can’t come soon enough, with Stella bouncing off the walls at the idea of seeing her new friend again and, even though you’d never admit it to anyone, you’re looking forward to seeing Jamie too. Even though your conversation was brief, it was clear that Stella loved him and you’d gotten to know him a little better through texting, where he made you promise to come down to the dressing room after the match so he could say hello to Stella.

Unsurprisingly, it’s a struggle to get Stella into her little Richmond jersey, an old hand-me-down of Keeley’s niece with Kent plastered on the back; she begs you to wear it all the time, but the one day she’s supposed to, it's like the fabric is made of knives. By the time you stumble out to Keeley’s car, you’re sweaty and aggravated and looking forward to spending the afternoon with your best friend.

What you weren’t expecting, though, was to be led up to the owner’s box, where you were greeted by Keeley’s friend Rebecca, who was intimidatingly beautiful and the owner of AFC Richmond. You’d met a few times, but seeing her in her element while you wrangled a kindergartener made you feel like a fish out of water.

“And you must be Stella,” she says, looking down with a smile at your daughter who’s trying to escape your grip on her hand.

“Normally she has manners,” you respond as you smooth a hand over the girl’s hair, trying to get her to calm down for just a moment, knowing all the excitement of the match is going to make it impossible for her to sleep as it is.

Rebecca just chuckles, her brilliant smile never leaving her face.

“I completely understand, my Jelka sometimes acts like she’s never left the house.”

“I didn’t know you had a daughter?” Your statement comes out more like a question, racking your brain for any memory of Rebecca mentioning a child before.

“It’s a recent development,” Keeley adds with a wink to you as she squeezes Rebecca’s arm, and the taller woman just scoffs.

The four of you make your way out to your seats, Stella insisting on standing up on your legs, blocking everyone behind you. You turn to apologize, but the man sitting behind you just brushes it off.

“Children are strong willed,” he tells you with a reassuring smile, “I couldn’t even get my boys to wear pants when they were her age.”

It’s hard to ignore the urge to apologize for everything you or Stella did, but knowing you were surrounded by parents who understood the struggles of a strong willed child helped calm your nerves. It wasn’t that Stella misbehaved or that you let her run wild, but sometimes people who weren’t parents didn’t understand and expected her to sit quietly and still, as if she was a little adult and not a five year old child. Luckily, as the match started, everyone seemed to get as rambunctious and energetic as her.

Watching the game, you can’t help the way your eyes keep drifting to Jamie, even when he doesn’t have the ball. There’s just something about him that continues to draw your eyes to the large number nine on his back as he runs across the pitch. He scores right before halftime, and no one in that stadium is half as excited as Stella, who’s jumping up and down and screaming as if you just told her you’re taking a trip to Disney.

Richmond scores two more times, winning the game without much of a fight.

“Come on, let’s go see the boys!” Keeley stands and wiggles her fingers at Stella, who clambers out of her seat and eagerly grabs her hand, leaving you no choice but to follow. Keeley all but runs down the stairs with you and Rebecca trailing behind, exchanging information to get your girls together some time.

When you make it to the dressing room, you’re hit in the face with noise and warmth and the smell of sweat, but Stella is so excited you can barely focus on anything other than keeping your grip on her little hand. Keeley knocks and lets herself in with you and Rebecca following and you can’t help the way you immediately feel like there are 27 pairs of eyes on you.

“Jamie!” Stella slips out of your grip and makes a beeline for the striker and your heart stutters at the easy way she jumps into his grip, at the way he smiles at the little girl.

“We’ve gotta get you a better fucking kit,” Jamie tells her when he sees the large Kent plastered on her back, leading to stares and shushes from the rest of the team. Jamie, realizing what he’s said, looks to you with eyes wide with fear and remorse.

“It’s nothing she hasn’t heard before,” you tell him with a smile, and the room erupts into noise again, the team swarming your daughter and asking her opinions on the match, considering everything she says with genuine concern. You keep watch out of the corner of your eye, but from what you’ve heard from Keeley and what you know about Jamie, you’re sure Stella will be fine, but it’s hard to turn off the mom instincts.

Isaac is marching Stella around the room on his shoulders to “give her a better view” when Jamie comes over to where you’re standing with Keeley, Rebecca, and the coaches.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” you shoot a glance back at Keeley, but she just winks at you as Jamie leads you out into the hallway.

It’s silent for a few moments, Jamie fiddling with the front of his kit, before he finally says, “Did Stella have a good time?”

“She loved it, probably the best day of her life so far,” you grin at him, hearing your daughter’s happy giggles through the dressing room door.

“Good, good,” he falls silent again, shoving his hands into the front of his kit.

You’re about to head back into the dressing room, even though you’re certain that wasn’t what Jamie wanted to ask you, when a question tumbles out of his mouth so quickly you’re certain you’ve misunderstood him.

“Wanna grab dinner sometime?” He expels a breath as if this is the most difficult thing he’s had to do today.

“What?” You ask in response, confused and surprised and sure you just didn’t hear him right.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime?” He asks again, slower, “Like, as a date?”

“That sounds nice,” and with the way he beams at you, you’re sure you’d agree to whatever he asks you.

“Cool.” You stand in the hallway for a few moments longer, just smiling at each other, before the laughter of your daughter snaps you out of your stupor and you head back into the dressing room. You can tell by the look on Keeley’s face that she knew exactly what Jamie had asked you, and was probably the one who pushed him to do it.

“Need a babysitter Friday night?” she asks as you approach, and you just roll your eyes at her, turning your attention back to Stella and the group of footballers that seem so enamored with her and her opinions.

The celebration starts to die down, even though you’re certain the party’s going to pick up at some exclusive club or bar in a few hours, and Rebecca walks with you and Keeley out into the car park.

“How long has that been a thing?” She asks, jutting her head back towards the building with a knowing little smirk as you buckle Stella into her seat.

“There is no thing,” you fix Keeley with a look, knowing that she’s probably been planning that for months, before you’d even met Jamie, and Rebecca has been in on it the whole time.

Still, you promise to message Rebecca with the dates that you and Stella are free for a playdate before buckling yourself into the driver’s seat, all the excitement of the day starting to wear you down. Hopefully, Stella’s so worn out from excitement she goes right to sleep when you get home, but you know the more likely scenario is that she stays up all night because she’s wound up.

The universe must be on your side, though, because Stella falls asleep before you’re even home and you need Keeley’s help to open your front door.

“God, this was so much easier to do when she was smaller,” you whisper with a grin, thinking of all the times Keeley needed to help you into your house when your arms were full of a sleeping Stella and groceries and your work bag. Keeley grins back, placing a kiss on Stella’s forehead before scampering off to her own house, waving goodbye before she closes the door.

Tell me when Jamie gives you a day + time, I’ll come over to help you get ready ;)

Even though you roll your eyes when you see the message, sent before you could even get Stella into bed, you really do appreciate her offer. You can’t even remember the last time you’d been out on a date, and you’ve certainly never been out with a professional footballer. Jamie’s clearly a nice guy, and you’ve enjoyed the few times you’d talked in person, but you’re already beyond nervous for the date that’s still days away.

Those nerves only grow as the week goes on, as you and Jamie settle on Friday at seven at an upscale restaurant you’d never even heard of, and as Keeley lets herself into your house with her spare key at four o’clock on Friday, your nerves reach their peak.

“Well, I’d totally fuck you,” Keeley says after she zips up the back of your dress, looping her arms around your waist and looking into your eyes through the mirror with a grin.

“Thanks, Keels, I’ll be sure to let him know that,” you reply with a giggle, finally starting to feel a little giddy at the thought of your date, even though your anxiety was pulsing just below the surface. The doorbell rings then, and you’re almost certain your heart is going to stop.

“I’ll get it,” Keeley gently pushes you aside as she makes her way out of the bathroom, “grab a purse before you come down, and not the big one! He won’t need snacks before dinner to stop him from crying!” She gives you a wink and then she’s gone, and you can just barely hear her greet Jamie at the door, followed by Stella making a run for him.

Breathing deeply, you make your way back into your bedroom to stuff all of your belongings into a tiny purse, leaving your trusty, large tote sitting on the bed, overflowing with snacks and toys to keep Stella entertained whenever you go out. As much as you’d love to, you know you can’t hide out in your room forever, so you snap your purse closed and make your way downstairs.

Walking down your steps makes you feel like you’re a teenager again, your prom date eagerly waiting at the door after getting grilled by your father, except this time it’s Jamie getting grilled by Keeley and your daughter. When she sees you, Stella is already reaching for you, attempting to wriggled herself out of the arms of a slack-jawed Jamie.

“C’mon, babe,” Keeley intercepts Stella instead, knowing you’ll never leave otherwise, “let’s go find a movie to watch.” Now, it’s just you and Jamie standing by your front door in silence, Stella’s happy jabbering filtering in from the living room the only noise.

“You look nice,” you finally break the silence, feeling awkward and unsure of yourself and certain you sound lame, like you haven’t been on a date in the last six years.

“So do you,” Jamie responds, gently trailing his eyes up and down your form despite the blush on the tips of his ears, “ready?”

You just nod, still needing time to process the fact that you’re going on a date with Jamie Tartt, who looks nothing less than perfect in dark slacks and a button up, and it’s clear that he had attempted to style his hair but the way he continually runs his hands through it has ruined whatever styling there was before. Hopefully the shock of going out with someone so gorgeous will wear off soon so you can actually participate in conversations.

Luckily, by the time you make it to the restaurant Keeley had recommended to Jamie, you’re able to talk about anything and everything, swapping stories about your childhoods and work and Stella, stories that Jamie seems genuinely interested in.

“I hadn’t put together any of her nursery furniture and she would not stop crying so I couldn’t put her down,” you tell him over dessert, explaining the beginning to your friendship with Keeley, “and then there was a knock on the door and I was ready to scream at whoever was on the other side, but it was Keeley and she took Stella right out of my arms and of course she stopped crying then.” You smile, reminiscing on how essential Keeley was during those first few months where you were convinced you’d made a mistake and you’d never survive.

“And then she sat with me while I put together the rest of Stella’s furniture, and she put her in the crib, turned on the baby monitor, and made me dinner.” Keeley had shown you that you weren’t alone, that you’d be able to handle whatever life throws at you because you had her by your side, and if anyone could understand that feeling it was Jamie. “She sat with me and came over every night, just to hang out, and when I went back to work, she watched Stella for me and I didn’t even need to ask.”

“Yeah, she’s magical like that, making you realize things about yourself, believing in you and shit,” Jamie adds, even as his cursing catches the attention of the tables around you.

“She insisted on being Stella’s fairy godmother,” you add with a giggle, delighting in the way Jamie smiles at you.

“I ordered Stella a Tartt kit, by the way,” as soon as the thought crosses your mind the words are out of your mouth, and it’s worth it when Jamie looks at you like this is the best news he’s ever heard.

“She’ll have to wear it to our next match, then,” and you’d agree to anything he says when he says it with that soft look in his eyes, like he might actually love you.

It’s too soon for any of that, but the thought doesn’t scare you the way it normally does. You think you’d enjoy being in love with Jamie, making breakfast together on the weekends and falling asleep next to each other every night of the week. Stella already adores him, so you’d never need to worry about that, and it seems like he cares for Stella the way you and Keeley do, and you know she needs all the love and support she can get.

Jamie glances at his phone, letting out a sigh as he notices the time.

“This is the best night I’ve had a in a while,” he says and you brace yourself for the finishing blow, “but grandad makes me get up at 4 AM for training. Maybe I can bring you coffee tomorrow?” He looks so hopeful, even if you weren’t already foaming at the mouth at the idea of spending more time with him, you’d say yes.

He walks you to your door, and you have to pretend that you don’t know that Keeley is watching from behind the curtains when you press a kiss to his cheek and he squeezes your hand in a way that makes you want to invite him in, even though you both know that would never happen. He waits until you’re safely inside before driving away, and as soon as the door shuts behind you, Keeley is attacking you for details.

Seated on the couch, legs tucked underneath you and junk food spread out on the coffee table, you recount your whole night, telling her how wonderful he was and how great he made you feel and Keeley looks happy enough to burst. Whether her joy comes from the fact that her two friends are happy or because she set the two of you up, you’ll never be sure.

After she leaves, you find yourself texting Jamie, thanking him for such a great night and wishing him luck with training before throwing yourself into bed, happy and exhausted and ready to sleep forever. You dream of Jamie and Stella and a dog, and when you wake up, you’re a little disappointed that it wasn’t real, though you’d never admit that to anyone.

Jamie brings coffee in the morning, and almost every morning after that. When you tell him to stop going out of his way, he tells you his house is right down the road, but Keeley confirms your suspicions that he’s lying. You just laugh when she tells you he’s wrong, too delighted that someone would go out of their way for you every morning to bring it up with him again.

It’s a little terrifying, how seamlessly Jamie fits into your life. You and Stella find yourself in the owner’s box of most Richmond home games, and Jamie brings over takeout every Friday night. If you’re ever working late or stuck at the office, Jamie always jumps at the chance to pick Stella up from school, sometimes grabbing Phoebe as well so the two girls can play together.

Sometimes you wonder if he does that solely to bother Roy, but you don’t mind as long as the girls get home safely.

Jamie is wonderful with Stella, and that was what scared you the most, because while you were used to dealing with heartbreak and disappointment, your daughter wasn’t. Every time you see them kicking a football around in your backyard or catch Stella asleep in Jamie’s lap during a movie, your heart constricts and your breath catches in your throat because you don’t know how you’re supposed to explain it to her if Jamie decides to leave, decides that a fit young footballer doesn’t need to be tied down by a kindergartener and her workaholic mother.

One night, a few months after that very first dinner, the two of you are sitting on the couch with Stella safely asleep in her bed and you’re so happy it scares you a little. This is everything you’ve always wanted, a loving partner who cares for your daughter like she’s his own, but you need to resist the urge to self-destruct.

“Jamie,” you start, reaching for his hand and pulling his attention away from the movie and hating how much this sounds like you’re about to break up with him, “I love you.” It’s a miracle you’re able to keep your voice steady with the terror you feel, but it all evaporates in a second when Jamie smiles at you, beaming from ear to ear as if he’s scored a game winning goal.

“I love you, too,” and he kisses you so softly it hurts you a little, hurts the part inside your brain that was wishing your life could have always been like this, wishing you could have always been this happy. You kiss him back, though, and the movie sits forgotten for the rest of the night.

“I got pregnant at nineteen,” you tell him later, wrapped up in your sheets and his arms, “and Stella’s dad isn’t a bad guy or anything, he just… wasn’t ready, which is fine, it was my choice in the end, but sometimes it really fucking sucked.” You sniffle, hating yourself a little for ruining such a lovely night but Jamie just pulls you close, presses a kiss to the crown of your head and traces nonsensical shapes on your arm.

“But then I found Keeley, and now I have you, and Stella’s perfect and everything turned out okay but I just wanted you to know,” you finish, breathing deeply for the first time since you started talking. It wasn’t like it was a secret that you had Stella young or that you were a single mom, but sometimes revealing all the details felt too intense, like no one needed or wanted to hear how you got to this point.

“Me mum was only twenty when I was born,” Jamie tells you, continuing his tracing on your arm and it’s then that you realize he’s been drawing hearts, “and my dad’s a real piece of a shit, so she basically raised me all on her own. And then she found Simon when I was a teenager and he’s a good guy, likes baking and shit. I think they’d both like you a lot, you and Stella.”

“Well, your mom must be pretty great, putting up with you all on her own,” you smile, bursting into laughter when Jamie squeezes your side, both of you feeling lighter and falling asleep after sharing more giggle-filled kisses.

Life continues on, leaving you giddy to see what the next day will hold. Jamie continues to bring coffee every morning, stopping by while Stella eats breakfast in front of the TV and you pack up three lunches. If there isn’t a game, Jamie stays over on the weekend and the two of you make breakfast together, swaying gently in the kitchen in your pajamas, basking in the sun and his presence until Stella stomps her way downstairs, hair ruffled and her grumpy little frown blooming into a smile the second she smells the pancake batter.

Stella started playing football on the same team as Phoebe, and you and Keeley get equally as excited as you do at Richmond matches. Whenever he’s available, Jamie will join Roy as an assistant coach, and even though he tells you it’s to spend time with Stella, you’re sure seeing the annoyed look on Roy’s face whenever he shows up is a nice bonus. The four of you will take the girls out to lunch after, and you’re reminded of all the wonderful people you’ve had in your corner, some longer than others but all equally as important to you.

Your life might not have gone the way you expected, but what you have now is better than anything you ever could have dreamed.

Tags: @whimsical-roasting @hopefulromances @onceuponaoneshot @jamietarttdodo @scaramou @ickydollysstuff @drizzyreese @amieinghigh @ilymoonie @better-things-to-do @yepyeahuhhuh @zazima @guccilongboard @shineforever19 @tortilla-maria1 @shakespeareanwannabe @lilweirdgal @flashyourgreeneyesatme @aiyaiy @just35yrsandtrying @chrissy1986 @emmy2811

[its-time-to-write]

hi, i love your writing! could i request something where jamie and reader are dating and jamie starts introducing them to the important people in his life, like roy, keeley, the richmond boys, etc. and each time they get introduced to someone new, whenever jamie steps away, they basically get some variation of the 'you better not hurt him' talk, and when jamie finds out he's worried that reader is gunna be offended or upset but they reassure him that it's fine, they think it's cute that everyone's so protective of him and that it's nice to see him have so many people care about him

Sorry this took FOREVER. Here it is!

the way it goes

It has been exactly twenty-one days since Jamie asked you out on a proper date, and you’re of the opinion that life can’t get much better than this. You’ve only met two of his teammates so far, (Isaac because he’s one of Jamie’s good friends and Richard because you ran into him while shopping) and honestly, they aren’t what you expected at all. 

They’re kind and they seem to genuinely like working together.

(It’s a little funny to call football “work.”)

Isaac tells Jamie to bring you next time they all hang out, and reminds him to buy more juice packs than last time so they don’t run out again.

—

Turns out the next “hang out,” is a night at Isaac’s, and the whole team is there with various partners and spouses. There’s a strict sweatpants-only drsesscode, and pretty much everyone is in clearly expensive matching sets. You’re grateful that Jamie shrunk a brand-new deep green set the other week, because you didn’t have time to go out and buy something new/not ratty.

There are tables of board games, a pile of snacks, and even a bar. Jamie drags you over so he can get “proper buzzed,” and requests something incredibly complicated from Beard, who appears to be the only coach present.

“Babe,” Jamie says, “you good here? I’m gonna get some food.”

You nod and watch him weave through groups of people. You lean against the bar and wait for Jamie’s drink.

“So,” says Beard, “you’re Jamie’s girlfriend.

You nod. “Yeah, I am. I’ve known him for ages, though. Since I was in uni. Always thought he was just some prick footballer trying to score, if you know what I mean.”

Beard chuckles. “I get it. He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

You grin. “He’s my asshole.”

Beard slides you Jamie’s drink but before he completely lets it go, he says, “Hey.”

His voice has lost its jocularity, so you look up to meet his (very intense, slightly terrifying) eyes.

“Jamie doesn’t need his heart broken. He may have been a giant prick, but he’s different now. He’s not the kind of guy you can just screw and move on from.”

Your mouth has gone a little dry, so you just nod. Right then. You turn to go find Jamie and hope he won’t mind if you take a sip of his drink. You’re planning on staying sober tonight, so that one sip is going to have to get you through till the end.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told you to be careful with Jamie. The first time was actually Roy’s niece, Phoebe. Jamie was babysitting and he asked you to come along, so while he was paying for ice creams Phoebe tugged your arm so you’d get down to her level and said, “If you make him cry, they’ll never find you again.”

You had looked at her in shock while she matter-of-factly stated, “My Uncle Roy’s been teaching me things.”

She said the word things far too ominously for an eight year old, but then Jamie came back and she was all smiles again. 

You got a similar, equally threatening talk from Phoebe’s mum, and then from Roy, and then Roy’s girlfriend Keeley.

Variations of the “break him and I’ll break you” talk had begun to trickle in whenever you’d pick up Jamie from Nelson Road. The tone ranged from Sam’s vaguely threatening, “We all love Jamie very much. We’re incredibly protective of him,” to Jan Maas’s blunt, “If you break his heart, you will never find another date on this entire continent.

Even Ted had a comment, which was more along the lines of, Jamie’s a big softie, he doesn’t need some to play him right now, he needs a real supporter. Each time, you assured them that you weren’t going to hurt him. You didn’t ask why they thought you would be the one doing the hurting when he was the one with the reputation.

Because you are fully aware of his reputation. You hadn’t seen Lust Conquers All, but you’d seen enough clips to piece together exactly how it went. And you’d seen the details of his cheating scandals all over the papers. And dealt with him firsthand while in uni. So yeah, Jamie’s past prick-ish behavior is not a mystery to you.

You find it endearing that so many people love him enough to protect him. It’s a good sign, you think.

You find Jamie carefully stacking various snacks on a tiny, tiny plate. His face lights up when you come into view.

“Oh good,” he says. “Extra hands.” He grabs his drink with one hand and gives you the plate with the other. He starts piling on something flaky and slightly green. 

“Isaac’s girlfriend makes these fucking pistachio things, and they always go way too fast. Gotta eat them while you can,” he says while creating an engineering marvel.

“Glad you like ‘em, bruv,” comes Isaac’s voice from behind you. You jump a little, and the plate wobbles. 

You turn to see Isaac with an absolutely gorgeous woman on his arm.

“I’m Stella,” she says. “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ll have to have you two over for a real dinner.”

Jamie and Isaac quickly become engrossed in a serious discussion about football tactics, with Jamie downing his drink and then taking the plate of food from you. He was right, those pistachio things are amazing.

You chat with Stella for a little bit and learn she’s the face of a modeling agency and met Isaac during some football/branding thing.

“He was the only one during the entire shoot who made sure I was drinking enough water,” she laughs. “Who knew the way to my heart was through proper hydration?”

You talk a little longer before Jamie’s arm is snaking around your waist to whisk you off to see Dani. It goes like that for a little while until you finally settle down at one of the game tables. It’s a card game involving a lot of yelling and pointing fingers.

The house is noisy and cozy, filled to the brim with people who are just comfortable around each other, and you think you’ve never experienced something like this in your whole life.

Jamie on the other hand, is yawning a little bit. His hand, which had been on your knee tracing squiggly patterns, is starting to slow down so you put yours on top of his and whisper, “You about ready to go?”

Jamie nods and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“Got fucking extra training tomorrow,” he quietly laments.

You get up to leave and Jamie follows suit with a very loud pronouncement that he’d rather be somewhere private, much to the amusement of the Greyhounds who begin to hoot and whistle. You roll your eyes and smack his butt on the way out.

Forty-five minutes later, Isaac’s phone dings with a photo of Jamie in a pink robe and green face mask, hair pulled back in an equally pink and fluffy headband. He’s lying on your bed and he can see the tv screen playing Notting Hill. You’ve typed, Someplace private, my ass, and Isaac just shakes his head and grins. Fucking Jamie. Prick on the outside, softie on the inside.

You better not break his heart, he writes.

HAH comes your reply a moment later. Not a chance.

“Babe, look,” you say handing Jamie your phone. “I’ve collected the whole set.”

Jamie reads your text thread then looks up at you in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“Isaac is the only one who hasn’t like, threatened me or something if I hurt you,” you reply.

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red. “What do you mean, the only one?” he asks. “Like, the team?”

You shake your head. “Oh no. I mean, yes, the whole team, but like pretty much everyone who works at Nelson Road.” 

Jamie’s eyes widen as you begin to list people on your fingers. “Alright, so obviously the Greyhounds, plus all the coaches, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, Samantha at the front desk, Gary, Phoebe and her mum, Will-” you pause. “Should I keep going?”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell. I’m sorry. They’re all twats, except Phoebe. I swear, they’re not always like that. I’ll talk to them and make ‘em leave you alone.”

“No! You can’t let them know that you know! And…” you hesitate, “I thought it was kind of sweet. Like a green flag, you know? They all like you enough to make sure that you’ll be ok, and they want me to know I have something special. Of course, I already knew that,” you continue, “but it’s nice confirmation.” 

Oh. That’s new.

Jamie’s quiet for way too long so you look over at him. “Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” he says, choked up. “Face mask got in my fuckin’ eye.”

“It’s dried solid, babe.”

“Fine,” he says, “I might be a little. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not Ted, because then he’ll talk to me about feelings and shit, and I’d rather eat ten fucking scones than that.”

You laugh and snuggle into his side. There aren’t going to be any heartbreaks here, not if you can help it. You’re both planning on keeping the other around for the rest of your lives.

[dracoxsworld]

Reunited. - Harry Potter x Reader

Warnings: Oral both f and m receiving, teasing, dom harry, p in v etc.

a/n: Of COURSE I had to write about my boy harry again.

EDIT: Typos :/

3 months.

It has been 3 months since you’ve seen Harry. You couldn’t even write to each other because of his muggle family being extremely against anything to do with your world, but none of that matters now. You arrive to the Weasley’s burrow, with your trunks and suitcases full of school supplies, robes and clothes for your upcoming school year at Hogwarts.

“Y/N? Is that you?” A girl with bushy brown hair asks, coming out of the burrow. “Hermione!” You exclaim, dropping your luggage and running into her arms. You both squeal in your hug.

“How’ve you been? How was your summer?” You friend asks as you both walk back to your luggage you had left. “It was great! Mum and dad were of course, busy all the time. So I had a lot of me time. How was yours?” You asked.

“It was fun, I got to study for our O.W.L.S all summer! I should’ve started before our last year ended, though.” Hermione chuckles nervously.

“Hermione, we don’t take out OWLs until the end of the year,” You said. “Yes, but this is the most important test we will ever take! I have to study, if I don’t study, I’ll fail, if I fail, I won’t graduate. If I don’t graduate I won’t-“ “Hermione!” You interrupt her, turning towards you, dropping your bags once again to put your hands on her shoulders. “You are the smartest witch I know. You will probably get the highest grade,” Hermione takes a big deep breath of relief, ending with a smile. “Thanks y/n.”

You and Hermione enter the burrow, Mrs.Weasley sees you immediately and gasps. “Miss. l/n!” She runs to you immediately just like you ran to Hermione, and pulls you into a tight hug. You talked about your summer with Mrs.Weasley while greeting the other Weasley family members. Ron comes up to you and ruffled your hair before pulling you into a tight hug. “What do you reckon we okay a quick game of quidditch while you’re here? I’ve been getting better.” Ron says during the hug

“Ron, I told you to start studying for your O.W.L’s!” Hermione exclaims disapprovingly. “Relax, ‘mione. I’ve got loads of time, I haven’t seen y/n for months!” Ron says, wrapping his arm around her, she gives him another disapproving look but dropped the subject, her frown turning into a smile.

“So where’s Harry?” You ask anxiously. “He’s not here yet, dear. I believe he’s going to be here any minute.” Mrs. Weasley says, putting a roast in the oven with a flick of her wand. As if you summoned him simply by saying his name, you guys here a CRACK outside the front door. You all pile towards the door, looking out the window. There you see the boy who lived, with his black messy hair, round glasses, and green eyes. Despite a group of people looking at him for his arrival, his eye’s immediately land on you; he smiles, ear to ear, through the window.

“Open the bloody door, Ron!” Hermione exclaims, motioning towards you. “Alright alright!” Ron buffs. Ron opens the door and Mrs.Weasley squeals as she engulfs Harry in her arms. “Oh my boy!” She exclaims swinging Harry back and forth. “It’s always good to see you Mrs.Weasley” Harry says with a strained voice, as he’s being squeezed in the hug.

“It’s like we’re not even here.” Ron jokes, nudging George. “We’re not the chosen one, mate.” George respond, laughing softly.

Each person takes turns greeting Harry, leaving you for last. He finally turns to you after shaking Fred’s hand, his eyes instantly brighten up, and a bigger smile grows on his face. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. He plants kisses all over your cheek. You giggle from it tickling, and he lets you down. “Hi,” you say simply. “I’ve missed you.” You added. “I’ve missed you too, you have no idea.” Harry responds. He ticks your hair behind your ear and kisses your cheek, whispering “I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you later.” Causing your cheeks to quickly turn into a rose color. Luckily, Harry seemed to be the only one to notice.

The rest of the night consisted of catching up, each of you talking about your summer, Harry’s being quick and simple of which him saying “Just waited on when it would end.”

Hermione went on another O.W.L’s tangent. After her vent, everyone head off for bed. You made your way to Ginny’s room, where you had set your luggage, until you felt a hand on your arm, you turn around to see Harry. He put a finger up to his lips, and you nodded, his hand slid into yours, guiding you into the guest bedroom the Weasley’s had set up for Harry. He led you into his room.

Once you both had entered, he placed his hand on the door behind you, and pushed it shut. He stood in front of you, stretching his arm with the palm of his hand still against the door. His green eyes looked down on you, scanning your body. You felt your cheeks go hot instantly.

“I have missed you. So much.” Harry begins. He leaned down to the crook of your neck, softly kissing you, up your neck to behind your ear. “God Harry, I- I missed you too.” you whine. Goosebumps form on your arm making the hair stand up. Your hand reached to the back of his head, gripping his hair, causing him to grunt in your ear. “Already moaning for me, baby?” His hand leaves the door and lands on your waist.

“On the bed, baby.” he says into your ear, slightly pulling you away from the door, before pushing you lightly towards the bed.

You sit in the bed and lean back, holding yourself up on your elbows. Harry steps between your legs, hanging off of the twin sized bed. He gets on the bed to where he’s above you, leans down to kiss you. It starts out slow, and soft. “God Harry, I’ve missed you.” You mumble in the kiss. “What’ve ‘ye missed ‘bout me?” Harry mumbles back, between kisses. “Everything. Your hands,” You begin to list things off you missed about him. All the things you’ve longed for the past 3 months. You stop the kiss and grab his hand.

“Your lips,” you continue, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him down to kiss you again.

“God; your hair.” You whine, running your hands through his messy hair, even messier from your hands gripping it just a few moments ago. Harry stares at you with eyes full of hunger. He picks up his wand that was in the bedside table. (That was really an old box) “Muffliato.” he said quietly; keeping his eye contact on you. You loved that spell, mostly because you knew what was going to happen after it was cast.

Harry immediately leans down, attacking you neck with bites, and kisses. His hands fly down to the hem of your shirt, raising it up, and quickly breaking the contact of his lips from your neck to pull the shirt over your head.

To his surprise, you prepared for this, wearing a dark red lace bra. “Oh my fucking god, y/n.” Harry groaned out. You smile up at him, blushing again. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Holy fuck.” Harry stammers out, running his hands up your stomach to your chest, squeezing your tits, one in each hand. You moan at the feeling. He leans down again, this time his attack aimed at your lips. Your hands sneak down from his hair to the button of his jeans, unbuttoning it. “Oh ‘yer excited?” Harry says, again between hungry kisses. “Harry please-“ you whine.

“Be patient, baby. You’ve waited 3 months and have done great so far.” Harry coos. “But go ahead.” he added, sitting back up straight, letting you continue to take off his pants, seeing his hard cock in his boxers. He pulls down yours, revealing your matching panties to your bra. “You’re kidding, so filthy.” Harry scoffs, practically ripping the remaining little clothing you had on your body off.

You tried to reach your hands to the hem of his boxers, but he quickly grabbed your wrist and shook his head. “Be a good girl, and wait.” Harry scolds you. You pout your bottom lip. Harry’s fingers run down to your lower stomach, causing goosebumps to once again appear on your arms. Your pussy was already so wet from him just kissing you, his fingers lightly touch you and you whine.

“So wet for me baby, god you’re perfect.” Harry says, looking down at your sex on his fingers, glistening in the light. You watch as Harry lean down inbetween your legs. You buck your hips up towards his face, wanting him now. “Baby; you have to be patient. Be a good girl, or I’ll have to stop.” You moan in response, trying you best to keep your hips still now. After a moment; Harry leans back down, and you feel his tongue in-between your folds, slowly licking up your liquids. Your hands tug at his hair.

Harry hums as he licks you up, causing vibration against your heat, warning another moan from you. “Harry!” You yell, slapping your hand to your mouth not wanting to wake anyone. Harry immediately stops and looks up at you. “No one other than me is going to here you, Angel. Scream my name.” Harry demands, going back down on you, now using you like a toy on his tongue, pumping it in and out of you, while licking your clit every now and then.

Your moans grow louder. “Harry! Please.” you beg. “Pleas what princess?” Harry asks, still down by your heat, kitten licks on your clit. “Let me cum, please Harry. Let me make a mess, please.” You cry, tears forming in your eyes from your desperation of pleasure.

“As you wish.” He smirks, finally giving you the pressure and pace you needed. You finally release, you feel your hot juices leave your used and sensitive hole, you feel your thighs squeezing his head. His hands can wrap around your thighs, squeezing them as he licks up your cum. You squirm from you being sensitive, but still love the feeling. You quickly sit up, hands rushing to the hem of his boxers. “Can’t even wait for me, baby.” Harry chuckles down at you, pulling down his boxers.

His cock sprang free, leaking with precum. You wrap your hand around, slowly stroking your hand up an down his cock, your thumb running over his slit, covered with precum. He groans in response. You quickly switched, now he was sitting on the bed, you were on your knees in front of him. You quickly took his cock into your mouth, using your hand to steady it. Your tongue lapped over his tip, earning a groan from him. “God. Your mouth is so fucking perfect.” You suck up and down his cock, hearing him groan and moan your name.

You bob your head up and down faster and faster, eyes shut tightly to focus on not gagging, as you can feel his dick hit the back of your throat, leaving precum dripping down as a treat.

“Eyes on me.” Harry demanded, yanking your attention up by pulling your hair. You moan in response.

“Fuck baby. You’re so good to me. God I have fucking missed you. You’re so perfect for me.” Harry moans out. You yourself moan at his words. His dick twitches in your mouth. It’s red, angry, and full. Your eyes innocently look up at him, humming as you suck his dick. With a few more licks across his tip, and a few more hums from you, he spills into your mouth, some landing on your chest, to which he yells out your name. Your tongue catches some of his cum, swallowing it like the angel you are.

“Fuck. Baby, come here.” Harry says, motioning his hand to come up on his lap. You oblige happily, straddling yourself above him. Harry handles his dick underneath you, and grabs your hips, lowering you down on his cock. Harry continues to groan out, as you moan his name. You slowly bounce up and down in his dick, your tits moving up and down as you do so.

“Harry, fuck.” you moan, but don’t stop. “You’re so tight, y/n. Such a perfect angel for me. So wet.” He groans. “You’re mine. Do you fucking understand?” Harry says, his hands slapping your ass as you continue to bounce on his cock. “y-yes harry, all yours.” You respond, seeing his green eyes go almost black, full of lust. “That’s right. Keep your eyes on me.” Harry demands. “My fucking slut. Does my slut want me to cum inside you?” Harry asks in a raspy voice, hands on your hips slamming you down on his cock. “P-lease cum inside me..” You beg, feeling the knot in your stomach grow. “That’s it. Take it angel. Take it.” Harry groans. He finally releases inside of you, and you release on his cock, both of you moaning the loudest this time, each others names. “Fuck y/n.” Harry moans, pulling you off his cock, covered in a mixture of both of your cum. “I’ve really missed you.” You say, looking down at the mess you’ve both made, then innocently looking down at him. “Round two tomorrow morning, before we leave for school?” harry asks, reaching over for a tissue to wipe off his release still on your tits. “sounds like a plan.” you agree, blushing harder.

[outsideratheart]

Be Still With Me (Leah Williamson x reader)

A/N: I think we are feeling a little heartbroken today. 

You watched as it happened from your sofa in Barcelona with your two England team mates beside you. The way you saw it pop when they showed the replay left you dreading what was to come because it was clear that Leah had tore her ACL. Sure it could have been a twist or a dislocation but your gut went to the worse scenario and you knew it was right.

If you weren’t already booked on a plane to London the following day you would have booked a flight there and then. Leah wasn’t just a team mate or your co captain, she was your best friend and the love of your life. In that moment you wanted nothing more than to be by her side so you can tell her that everything will be ok even though her Champions League and World Cup dreams were over.

After your match day -1 training at Stamford bridge the statement was released, you of course were already aware of the results of Leah’s scans as she called you the moment she had them. You did your duty, completed the training and the press conference but as soon as you were done you left your team to be by Leah’s side. As the team captain and fellow victim of an ACL tear Alexia didn’t argue, in fact she encouraged it stating that she knew Leah would need you now more than ever.

The drive to the house you shared whenever you were home was long and silent. Your mind was trying and failing to come up with words that could comfort Leah. You had been in contact with her mum who told you that her daughter wanted to be left alone so nobody but her would be home when you arrive. There was an eerie atmosphere when you walked through the door but nothing brought more concern than the sight of your girlfriend. Leah laid on the Sofa, her leg elevated and tears running down her cheeks.

“Oh sweet one” it might have been as much your home as it was hers but to you gave her space so you stand in the doorway that connected the hall to the living room.

“It’s over” a defeated expression is etched on her face and you couldn’t blame her.

The only thing you could do is hold her and that’s what you did. You let her cry into the crook of your neck whilst stroking her hair in a gentle motion hoping it would bring her comfort like it had in the past. 

“Why is this happening to me? It feels like I’ve just come back” Leah hated being on the sidelines. Her ankle injury was her biggest challenge so far because it limited what she could do, it wasn’t like how she pulled her hamstring the season prior. 

“I can’t answer that. The world is cruel sometimes and bad things happen to good people” you felt helpless. The woman in your arms craved reassurance but you didn’t know how to give it to her. 

“We had plans this summer and now I’m going to miss it” 

You and Leah lead the team to the Euros final and you planned on doing the same in the World Cup. Strategies had already been talked about and after the loss against Australia, you and Leah wanted it more than ever. You didn’t want to feel like that again and you both found comfort afterwards in knowing that you always had each other, in the good times and bad but now Leah wouldn’t be by your side for one of the biggest tournaments of your career.

“That’s not important right now Leah—“

“The world cup isn’t important? You of all people can’t tell me that. You get to go and you get to—”

Leah was venting her frustrations and you were her target but you wouldn’t let her push you away, not now, not ever.

“It’s not the most important thing right now, you are” 

Her eyes softened as you spoke. There is a reason why you are her person and it’s because you stay by her side and alway have her back, you love her with every fibre of your being and she feels it with her word you say and every kiss you share.

“Will you stay for my surgery?” 

“I don’t know if I can stay but I can come back. Just tell me when and where, I’ll be there” 

The distance between London and Barcelona had never been an issue before. You would go back to you home country when possible and Leah took any chance she had to visit you and spend some time in the Spanish sun. Now though the distance felt twice as far and you hadn’t even left yet. The next 7 weeks would be tough but you’d find a way to be there for her even if you were 707 miles away.

“Will the team be ok with it?” The last thing Leah want to do is cause any issues between you and your club.

“I don’t care if they do. I’ll go to training, games and any other team commitments. What I do in my spare time is none of their business”

You could see the sun begin to set; a pink tint covered the once blue sky. Time was ticking down but you didn’t want to leave and it wasn’t as if that was an option at the minute. Leah had fallen asleep after the two of you discussed her surgery and recovery which lead to her crying once again.

She looked so peaceful as you watched her chest rise and fail was every even breathe but you knew once she woke up the restlessness and worry would return. You wanted to protect her from the world, she didn’t deserve the pain she was going through.

“I wish I could take your pain away. I wish it was me and not you” You couldn’t imagine not being able to play football for a long period of time having never has a serious injury you career but seeing Leah so broken, you would happily take her place.

“Don’t say that” Clearly Leah wasn’t in as deep of a sleep as you thought “There has been enough of these injuries, we don’t need anymore”

She was right. There has been 110 ACL injuries in the last year and a half within the women’s game. The anger and frustration that each of these player felt were valid and you hoped that the issue at hand would be looked into.

“But it’s true” you wanted Leah to know that you would rather be in her position because her health came before yours.

“It’s a stupid thing to say. Can we talk about something else? No more injury talk” you quietly hum in agreement “How long till you have to go back to the hotel?”

You look at our watch. Technically you were already late but Alexia said she would cover for you which you were grateful for.

“Not for a few hours. Do you want to watch a movie?” Leah nods her head “Mamma Mia?” Your question earns another nod, of course it did, it was one of her feel good films.

You put the film on and felt comfort almost immediately. The way you both sing along to your favourite songs lets you forget about her injury, the night is just another sing along in the Williamson Y/L/N household. 

A couple of hours later the film ends and you know that it is time for you to leave even though no part of you wants to do so. It’s as if you inner thoughts are being said out loud because you feel Leah tap your chest. The action normally comes when the two of you have spent the night on the sofa and it’s time for you to go to bed but the intention is different this time, the two of you know it.

“I don’t want to” you pout.

“You have to. You have a job to do tomorrow and I’d hate for you to get in trouble because of me”

“I love you, you know that right?” 

“Of course I do now go before I the Barcelona team come knocking”

You hesitantly get up, taking your time not wanting the night to end. Much to your surprise and dismay, Leah holds her hands out and you carefully help her up. The blonde’s arms wrap around you neck once she is on her feet.

The way she looked you caused you to fall in love with her all over again. You would never be able to put into words the power her gaze had. 

“Win tomorrow and maybe even score a goal for me?” 

“Oh please, the blues don’t stand a chance. Not when I want to put on a show for my girl”

[irwinsblender]

reassurance

A/N: hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic that i’m posting on here and the first ever oneshot that i’ve written! as it’s coming up to christmas I decided to write a festive themed oneshot as my first post! i hope you enjoy :)

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: reader has worries about meeting ashton’s family in person for the first time

warnings: a small amount of anxiety

word count: 1k

✩ ✩ ✩

Usually, you were always excited for the Christmas season. Celebrating with loved ones and giving out gifts had always been your favourite thing to do.

This year was slightly different.

Ashton had suggested spending Christmas in Australia with his family this year. After many video calls had gone well with them, he assumed it wouldn’t be a big deal for you. Of course, it wasn’t at first. You were over the moon about getting to go to his home country for the first time.

With your flight there coming up in a few days time, you’d both been packing your bags in preparation. Including any gifts that had been bought for his family.

When you decided on taking a break from packing, Ashton offered to pick up some food. Expecting you to be ready to eat once he returned. Instead, he found you sitting out on his back porch, staring out at the darkening sky above.

He considered leaving you to your thoughts, thinking that you’d been okay all day. Something inside him told him that he couldn’t leave you alone. Something was wrong.

The back door opening caught your attention, glancing back to see Ashton walking outside. You sighed, leaning your head against the back of the chair you were sat on. He joined you, sitting down, waiting until you were ready to talk.

You cuddled into Ashton’s side, slipping your arms around his torso with your head against his shoulder. His arm draped around your shoulders.

“Everything okay, baby?” Ashton asked.

You shrugged, not sure how to tell him that you were freaking out about meeting his family in person for the first time.

“Is it about Australia?” He tried to answer for you if you didn’t want to speak. You nodded. “You’re worried for the flight? I know you’re concerned about how long it’ll be.”

“No, it’s not that,” you closed your eyes, trying to figure out how to explain your feelings. “I’m anxious… about meeting your family.”

“Oh,” he said. Not expecting you to say that. “You’ve been alright talking to them on our calls though, haven’t you?”

“This is different though, a lot different,” you sat up again, crossing your legs in front of you as you faced Ashton. “It’s not talking to them through a screen this time, I’ll be seeing your mum, your siblings, your grandparents, it’s a lot, Ash.”

With the way your voice almost broke at the end, Ashton couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen a hint of your anxiety to meet them sooner. You’d talked many times since agreeing, and none of those times had you expressed how worried you were becoming.

“You’re good at talking to people you haven’t met before,” Ashton tried to remind you. “You were fine talking with the guys the first time you met them.”

You looked away from Ashton after he said that, seeing the sun getting lower and lower. With how you were sat, Ashton moved to rest his hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth to comfort you.

“I’m not worried about talking to them,” you finally admitted. “I’m worried that they won’t like me.”

“Baby…” Ashton looked at you with a sad expression, the same way he always looked when you said things like that. “They like you already, they’ve seen the way you are on call, or when we’ve posted together.”

“How can you say that when they haven’t met me? Yes, we’ve talked, but over a video call.” You slouched in your seat, running one hand frustratedly through your hair. “I’m different in person than over the phone, you know that better than anyone. I’m quiet if someone calls me, but I can be the loudest person in the room when I hang out with our friends.”

“You’re my girlfriend, they’ll like you, baby.”

“just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean they’ll like me.” You replied stubbornly.

Ashton figured he’d have to take a different approach to how you were thinking. He moved to face you more, patting his lap for you to sit on, which you could never say no to. Now sat comfortably with your hands in his, he continued talking.

“They haven’t chosen whether to like you or not depending on if you’re quiet in one setting or loud in another,” he placed his hands on your waist, rubbing up and down softly. “They liked you even before they saw your face. They liked you as soon as they realised how happy you make me. All they’re worried about is that you care for me and love me.”

You nodded, listening to what he said to you. What he was saying was true in every sense. Your parents were the same with him. As long as you’re happy, and as long as he takes care of you, they couldn’t not like him.

“and you do care for me. Every day you care for me, and love me, I feel it every second we’re together.” He cupped your cheek in his palm as you leaned into his grip. “They like you because I’ve told them about the real you, the you that I fell in love with, the you that I want to be with forever.”

“What if I mess up or say something wrong as soon as we get there?”

“I’ll be there to jump in,” He reassured. “If you get too anxious, I’ll start talking. If you aren’t sure what to say, I’ll talk for you. Until you’re more comfortable with my family I’m more than happy to do whatever you need to feel okay.”

You took a breath as you nodded at him. Feeling slightly better about this whole situation. All you needed was a little reassurance from Ashton, and that’s exactly what you got.

“I love you, you know that right?” You chuckled softly.

“And I love you,” Ashton leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’ll talk to me next time you have any worries?”

“Yea, I will.” You promised, looping your arms around his neck as he hugged you closer to him.

For now, everything had turned out okay in the end. You’d admitted how you felt, Ashton understood and didn’t mind at all. He was going to suggest going inside when you spoke again.

“What if your sister doesn’t like me?” You asked.

“Don’t give me that! You two are practically best friends already.” Ashton laughed. “Now, come on, we should eat before the food’s completely cold.”

✩ ✩ ✩

[lilykatelyn-blog]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 8 - 𝓑.𝓒 - LILY’S KINKTOBER

Pairing: DomPrince!BangChan x SubFutureWife!Reader

Genre: Smut, little bit of fluff

theme: begging

warnings: D/S dynamics, begging (duh), blowjob, bondage, penetrative sex, safe sex, hair pulling, hard dom Channie, spanking, jealousy, arranged marriage au, breeding kink.

Your engagement party could not have been more perfect. Chan and you had gotten specific decorations for it and it looked truly out of a dream. You had about 150 guests and 3 hours to get through all of them, what a fun task! Chan had been nothing but a sweetheart since your parents had set you guys up for marriage, having been friends as kids, it wasn’t hard to get used to the idea of living with him forever. “Y/N! Hyung!” His selected best man and closest friend, Minho, had come up to you two. He gave your hand a kiss and greeting and a giant bear hug to Chan, making all of you chuckle. “Congrats! I heard that Changbin made it! You should go find him, if it’s okay with Y/N of course.” He gave you pleading eyes, making you laugh a bit and nod your head. “Go on, I’ll try to get through some of the guests.” You gave Chan a kiss on the cheek, heading over to your maid of honor to be, Yunjin, grabbing a glass of wine and laughing with her as people joined the conversation. “So how’d you two meet?” Heeseung asked, looking genuinely intrigued. “It’s complicated, I’ll tell the story at the wedding.” Getting many boos and complaints from the group. “Ah, well I’m afraid I should go, my mum’s sick. Best of wishes, and I’ll see you soon!” Heeseung hugged you, giving you a kiss on the cheek, as you two used to when you were kids. “Bye! Wish her well Hee!” You laughed to him as Yunjin made a joke. Unbeknownst to you, a certain spectator was getting jealous of your interaction with Heeseung.

“..and he- Hyung? You okay?” Han got cut off as he saw Chan staring off to where you were with Heeseung, just as you kissed him on the cheek. All 7 of the boys turned around, the maknae’s oohing and hyunjin and minho disguising laughs as coughs. “You’re jealous, mate? Chill, all she talks about is you and her love for you, man. You’re fine.” Felix laughed at his Hyung’s death stare. “But- did you see her? She-she kissed him on the cheek, she only does that to me. She’s never done it to anyone else.” At this point he was just about to break his glass with how hard he was gripping it. “And we’re done with the beer..” Han took the glass hesitantly out of Chan’s hand, not wanting to cause a scene. “I’m sure it’s an inside thing, don’t worry Hyung. You only have about 30 minutes before people start piling out. Just chill for now, talk to her about it later.” Minho softly told him, patting him on the back before getting into conversation with Changbin. “Anyways, mate. What were you saying about how carrier pigeons are liable or some shit?” Chan immediately turned to the conversation that Felix and Han were having, joining in on the nonsense. Trying to get rid of the annoying bubbling feeling inside of his gut. After the happy couple bid their goodbyes to everyone, they said goodbye to the staff and walked up to their room. “So, did you have fun today?” You asked in a hushed tone, taking off your earrings and getting into your sleeping gown. “Mm, talked to Changbin and the boys. What about you?” He asked, still in a bitter mood as he got dressed into his sleeping attire. As you talked about how you talked to Yunjin and your friends, he came up behind you while you were cleaning your makeup at the vanity, hugging your waist. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” You asked Chan, softly ruffling his hair as you cleaned up your makeup wipes and stuff. “Nothing, just got a bit jealous at seeing you and Heeseung today.” He murmured, looking down from embarrassment. He knew you two were friends, but he was still insecure, despite being a very powerful person. “We’re just friends, don’t worry. Plus, he doesn’t get to see me like this, hmm?” You told him, turning around and putting your arms around his neck. “I guess you’re right about that.” He whispered, giving you a kiss, deepening it ever so slightly. “Of course I am, now that we’re getting married, you should know I’m always right.” You murmured playfully against his lips, making him laugh a bit. He only deepened the kiss, pressing you against your vanity, at this point, your head was spinning. “Hate to interrupt this wonderful make out session, but let’s move this to the bed, yeah?” You asked, pulling away, and walking away from a very whiny Channie.

As soon as you sat on the bed, he jumped on top of you, going down your jaw to your neck and to your cleavage. “Man, I have to thank our parents for this arrangement, you’re fucking all I need.” He moaned, ravaging you. “Chris, as much as I love this, please get rid of the clothes.” You begged, tugging on his hair. He sat up, patting his lap. “Over my lap, it’ll be quick.” “But why?” You whined, “I didn’t do anything wrong-“ “you made me jealous love, now over my lap.” You verbally protested, but still complied, getting over his lap. “I’ll make it quick, all you have to do is just count love.” He made it sound oh so easy, when in fact it was terribly difficult. “..7, fuck! 8- shit! Chris, honey, I’m- FUCK!” He delivered a harsh slap, making your senses go haywire. “I didn’t hear a 9, babygirl.” He uttered oddly calmly. “Should we start over?” “No! Ni-nine!” You counted, frantically grabbing on something. “Last one, babygirl.” This was the hardest, way harder than the others. “TEN!” You screamed while he soothed the area, also wiping any tears on your face. “Good girl, but you’re still not done.” “W-what?” You asked, still calming down, he fixed you upright in your position. “You’re going to suck my cock, then if you make me cum hard, I’ll consider fucking you. ‘Kay?” He said the last part so sweetly that it could have fooled you that it was genuine. He got you on your knees, pulling down his pants, and releasing his cock. You slowly kissed down his large length, licking his slit, gathering some precum and using it as lube. Slowly taking his head in your mouth, you underestimated just how hard it would be to get all of his length in your mouth, though having done it before, it was still difficult. Once you got to the hilt, you slowly started bobbing you head, getting soft moans from him. Deciding to up your game and make him cum, you swirled your tongue around the head whenever you got to it, bobbing up and down faster and faster. “Fuck, I’m close. You’re gonna swallow my entire load, got it?” You hummed around his cock to confirm, making him throw his head back from the pleasure of the vibrations. Releasing in your mouth, you did exactly what he told you to and showed him the proof that you did. “Good girl, now you’re gonna beg for me to fuck you, yeah?” You knew it was a rhetorical question as soon as he slammed you face down onto the mattress. “Beg.” One simple command released all of the pleas from your mouth. “Please, please, please fuck me Chris. Please, need your cock inside me, fill me up, please!” You begged, your words turning incoherent as he lined up with your entrance. “Good girl, relax for me now, okay?” Pushing into you, he had to hold himself back so he didn’t ram into you. Starting slow, he got a steady pace, only speeding up when your moans got louder. He couldn’t hold back more and flipped you over, re entering you and holding your knee up to your chest he started fucking into you faster. Constant thank yous and pleads came out of your mouth, a scream nearly forming when his thumb made contact with your clit. “Go on, cum for me babygirl.” His thumb added pressure, not moving but just enough to tip you over the edge. Your mouth parted in a silent scream, except there was nothing silent about it, your scream would have been heard throughout the castle, had he not shoved his fingers in your mouth to shut you up. Coming with an animalistic grunt, he collapsed on top of you.

“Chris- get offff.” You whined, insisting on cleaning up. “Did I go too hard on you?” He asked softly while looking into your eyes, ignoring your demand. “No, now please get off so that we can properly clean up.” He complied, watching you try to walk to the washroom. ���I’d love some help here.” Snickering evilly, he picked you up bridal style, giving you a big smooch before drawing a bath for you. This marriage was going to last, you were sure of it.

TAGLIST:

@aaasia111, @hgema, @obeythemasters, @imwithurmother, @unlikelysublimekryptonite, @virluna148, @sanzusfavgf, @ivyisnotokay, @stanskzsstuff, @luvkpopp

[crazyk-imagine]

Tis the Season... Mistletoe Season

Pairing: George Weasley x Best Friend!reader 

Characters: Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Best Friend!reader, Ginny Weasley, Molly Weasley, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Arthur Weasley (briefly mentioned), Bill Weasley (briefly mentioned), Harry Potter (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Shenanigans, this is crack I swear, use of mistletoe, Reader is late to the crushing on a Weasley twin game, fluff, slight angst (at the end), reader has the best friendships with the twins, mentions of the war, mentions of... Fred (I somehow can’t not mention him when I write for George)

Word Count: 2,256

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I know someone who has a crush on you,” Fred whispers in a sing song tune. 

You don’t look up from your essay, adding a coma where you see it needs to be. “Are you sure that it isn’t you, Fredbear?” 

“I still prefer Fred the one with Fabulous,” he lifts his hand, swishing his hair all about. “Hair but whatever.” Fred yanks the nearest chair and sits on it with his arms crossed. 

“No, no, no,” you repeat. “No sitting.” 

“And, why not? You saving it for someone? The real someone who has taken a liking to you for some reason.” You scoff, shoving his shoulder. “I’ll have you know, Fred that I’m a delight.” 

He nods, pretending to listen as he stares off into the space in front of you. “You still coming over?” 

“And break Molly and Arthur’s hearts? No thanks mate. I’m not that crazy.” 

“Same time?” 

You think about it for a minute. “You mean when you drag me home with you?” 

“Yes.” 

“Same time.” 

“You better be ready or else I’m leaving without you.” 

“You’re the one that’s late. Last time, I went out and you weren’t there so then I figured you’d forgotten because you had other plans involving your pranks and I went to Diagon Alley.” 

“I was on time,” he scoffs. 

“You showed up three days late.” 

“Whatever. You better have everything you need before you come over.” 

“I will because I’m leaving Hogwarts with the Weasley clan.” 

“You are?” 

You nod, returning your attention to your homework. “I am, I’ve already written to your mum about it, and she can’t wait.” 

“I don’t know if I should be concerned or not that you’ve talked to her.” 

You turn towards him, head resting in your palm, fingers curled settling on your cheek. 

The sarcastic and dark smile sends a shiver down his spine. “And you wonder why I don’t invite you to help George and I with pranks.” 

“Oh, shut it!” You shove his shoulder. “You lie.” 

“I would never,” he says with his right hand over his heart. “Scouts honor.” 

“You have no idea who or what the scouts.” 

“Harry said it.” 

“Ah.” 

-

You barely walk through the hallway to your usual meeting spot with Fred when you hear his voice. 

“Finally. Let’s go.” 

You scoff, “can’t even be a charming mate and help me with my bag. You can clearly see I’m struggling here.” 

Before he could respond, someone took your bag from you. “Thank you, George. I’ll buy you a chocolate frog as repayment for your kindness.” 

His brothers jaw drops open. 

“Don’t you start with me, Fred. Your brother has been more helpful than you, therefore he deserves a nice treat before we go home to the chaos.” You start walking ahead of the two, not wanting to hear Fred being a little shit. 

“Told you.” 

“Told me what,” George grumbles, hoping that the cold air will take away some of the warmth from his cheeks before you could see. 

“She fancys you. Why is this so hard for you to understand?” 

“Her offering to get me something on the train doesn’t mean she likes me.” 

“The only other time she got someone a chocolate frog was our second year and she bought it for that idiot Bobby.” 

George pauses, taking in this new information he’s just learned. “Wasn’t he the bloke who stood her up?” He continues to walk towards the train. 

“Exactly,” Fred nods. “She liked him, so she bought him a chocolate frog. Now she likes you and wants to buy you a chocolate frog.” 

“Maybe- Maybe she’s just being nice.” 

“I’m nice but I don’t buy people chocolate.” 

“That’s because you eat it all before anyone can get to it like the toad you are.” 

“That was uncalled for!” Fred shouts, chasing after his brother. 

-

You turn around, realizing neither of them are behind you only to run into something. 

“Sorry,” his voice comes out quiet. 

You lift your head from his chest and realize it’s George. You shake your head, smiling at him. “It’s alright, better you than the other one.” 

He chuckles. 

“Are you alright though?” You step back, placing your hands on his forearms as you check him out, making sure he’s not injured. “Oh, you’re looking a little red. Are you sick?” 

He shakes his head, lowering it to hide his embarrassment. “I’m fine.” A piece of paper slides by his foot. “Look up. Tis’ the season.” 

He can hear Fred snickering off to the side, his nerves are teetering closer to the edge of full-fledged embarrassment. He slowly lifts his head to find a bundle of Mistletoe beside you. He walks away from you, rushing over to Fred so he can bear him or spell him, whichever comes first. 

You notice the note and bundle, covering your mouth to hide your nervous and excited smile. 

George comes back, his hand on your back as he guides you onto the train. “Let’s go.” 

“Are you sure you’re, okay?” 

“Would be better if my brother would stop being such a prat.” 

“Good to know we agree on something. Oh.” 

“What is it?” 

“Sit with me and you’ll find out.” 

“Prank Fred?” 

You nod, a wide smile dancing across your lips. 

“Good.” 

“I have a notebook full of ideas.” 

“Perfect.” 

He finds an empty seat for three even though you’ll both try to kick his brother out. “Let’s get started, shall we?” 

“Hey, can I-” 

“No.” 

“I’m your brother, Georgie. Let me sit with you.” 

“No.” 

“That’s rude to say to your best friend.” 

“I have George, that seems like plenty of company to me.” 

“Why do you hate me?” 

“Should we let him in before he causes a scene?” You ask him. 

“If we do, we won’t be able to plan anything.” 

“I know what to do. Don’t you worry about that.” 

He stops when he notices you two have stopped whispering. 

“Come in and shut it.” 

“Good. I was worried I’d have to do something Ronnykins in order to have a seat.” 

You roll your eyes. “Shut up.” 

“Gladly... but-” Fred raises his hands when he sees your glare. “Alright, alright. I’ll shut up now.” 

-

“Oh, look at you, dear.” Molly greets you with a smile, arms wide open for a hug. “Have they been feeding you?” 

“Fred stresses me.” 

“Oh, that won’t do. Fred!” 

You snicker into her embrace. 

The boy hops down from the last few steps, wondering why he’s being called down like he’s in trouble until he sees you. 

Now it all makes sense. 

“Why have you been putting stress on your friend?” 

“What? Stress? I haven’t-” 

“Don’t try and deny it. Look at her.” 

“She looks fine.” 

“Fred Weasley! You little-” 

You sneak away while your friend whines. You stare up, knowing that he’s around here somewhere. 

His head pops over the railing, his arms crossed as he leans over slightly. 

You give him an okay hand signal with a nod. 

He smiles, waving you up. 

You look back, making sure no one is watching so you can escape. 

He backs away from the railing, leaning against the wall as he waits for you. 

You snicker as your foot touches the last step, “Oh that was too funny.” 

“It was. It’ll be funnier later.” 

“I hope so. Do you think he'll know it was us?” 

He shrugs, “maybe. Maybe not. He’s gonna try and blame us but we won’t break, right?” 

You shake your head and hold your hand out for him, “I’ve got your back as long as you have mine.” 

He shakes your hand, holding onto it longer than a normal person would. 

Ginny’s voice travels up as she runs up the stairs bringing you two out of your mini staring contest. 

‘He has really pretty eyes- oh no.’ “Uh- I gotta- bye.” You pass the youngest Weasley and run down the stairs. 

You stop in the kitchen, resting your back against the wall. ‘I fancy my best mate’s brother, who’s also my best mate.’ “Oh Merlin,” you head falls back, resting against the wall. 

“What’s got you all flustered?” a mumbled voice comes from beside you. 

Your head snaps over at his. “Noth-nothing Ron. All good here,” you give him a nervous smile. 

He narrows his eyes at you, taking another bite out of his snack. 

“Ignore him,” Fred shoves the boy away from you. “Good plan you two created back there. You should be proud.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, ignoring him as you search for your bag. 

“What’s got you all red? You’re face practically matches my hair.” 

You march in front of him, index finger a mere few centimeters away from his chin. “Shut up.” 

“Calm down,” he pushes your hand away from him. 

All of a sudden, he’s on the ground and you’re being pulled away. 

“Wha- George?!” 

He sheepishly smiles. “I’m back.” 

Neither of you say anything. 

“Would you two look at that? Why is that- Hermione, is that what I think it is?” 

The girl stares at him with furrowed brows, unsure of why she’s been brought over and then she sees it. 

A quiet, “oh,” escapes her. “If you’re talking about mistletoe, then I do believe your right, Fred.” 

“And what is that?” You ask, jaw clenched. 

A mischievous smirk takes over, “if I remember correctly when I asked Harry, which I do. You and whoever stands under the mistletoe must share a kiss and not- not on the cheek or the forehead or anywhere else. I know you and loopholes.” 

“That,” you point up to the bundle, “that is- is holly.” 

“No, it’s not.”

“No, it’s not,” you whine. 

“Fred,” George starts. 

“No, Georgie boy. You’re not getting out of it today.” 

“Out of what?” You ask him. 

“Oh, look at that. Ron’s choking- we’re coming to save you brother of mine. Have fun, you two.” 

“What did he mean by that?” 

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” he rocks on the balls of his heels. 

“Liar.” 

“Well, now that’s just rude-” 

You take a step closer to him. “How is it rude?” 

“You called me a liar with no proof,” he tells you, also taking a step forward. 

“Well, maybe it’s because I know you and I know when you’re lying.” 

“Only Fred can do that.” 

“You forget, I can tell the two of you apart.” 

He nods, eyes focusing on your lips. “You can.” 

You try to respond with a witty comeback only to feel his lips smashed against yours. It takes you a second for your brain to process his movements but before he can pull away, you eagerly return the kiss. 

“Finally… wait, does this mean you two are gonna be doing this all the time?” Fred has the audacity to ask (when he was the one pushing you two to get closer for the last few months. 

You two part, his hands on your waist, yours wrapped around his neck. You share a look with him and glances back at your friend. 

“Yes,” the two of you say in sync. 

“Oh, Merlin.” 

You giggle, turning to look at George again. “Good holiday so far?” 

“Best one before I ask you a question.” 

“Hmm. What’s that?” 

“If I tell you now, it’ll ruin the surprise.” You pout but he makes it up by showering you in affection. 

-

After Fred and George decide to open WWW, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, he proposed to which you happily accepted and got married after the war. 

You would have chosen to do it sooner had their older brother, Bill, not planned on getting married around that time. 

But you both had something to honor him. You used the pin he secretly made when he found out George had begun to fancy you. It was a prototype then and once the shop was open and he had proper tools and supplies he was able to successfully make a one-of-a-kind hair pin that popped out a small veil. 

The only reason you found it was because Fred had, at some point, stuffed it into your jacket pocket before you all left for Hogwarts. 

You thought your fiancé had barely just fallen asleep when you began weeping as you read his note. 

-

I always knew he would ask you to marry him and, look at that, I’m right. Ha! 

This is the first and only of its design, don’t lose it or else I’m gonna be upset when it’s time. 

Put it in place and it’ll work, I promise. 

P.S. I better be best man. I don’t have the right figure for a maid of honor dress. 

-

Warm arms and shaky hand pulled you close to him. 

And George, he wore Fred’s friendship bracelet, the one you made (during one of your crafting stages) after the two of you decided you were gonna be friends and pranking partners, if there ever called for a time. 

It was the only thing Fred wore on his wrist since it was “special”. Also, he would never switch with him if they pretended to be the other. 

You two didn’t leave each other’s sides during this time but as time went on, you two slowly began to get help regarding your trauma while learning how to heal and not lose one another. It pains you to say but, it’s possible that your friend’s unfortunate death brought you two closer and more understanding of how special it is to know someone and have the kind of bond you two do. 

[babybluebex]

long lost love: before | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: part one of two! on your first day at the london academy of musical and dramatic arts, you meet a sweet boy, and you quickly grow close. two years of dating go by, but, when you suspect that joseph is cheating on you, you make an irreversible decision. pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: accusations of infidelity, smut (MINORS DNI) - p in v sex, mentions of blowjobs - jealousy, lots of cute joey, wes makes several appearances, lots of suspect behavior from joe , a poor understanding of how LAMDA operates author's note: hi babes! thanks for reading this fic, and i don't have much to say other than enjoy! only one more part after this!

When you first saw him, your heart nearly stopped. 

You didn’t know who he was; nobody really knew anybody else here. It was only orientation, and the room was full of hopeful young musicians and actors that were waiting for their education. The energy in the room was anxious and electric, and your eye was drawn to nearly every person that walked in, wondering what their aspirations were. Maybe some wanted to be directors or producers or music engineers. It was usually easy to spot the real talent in rooms like that, the kids that would really make it far, and you suppose that’s why you saw him almost instantly. 

He wore the little badge with his name around his neck, looking cute and sweet with a nervous little smile on his face and a shaggy dark blond hairdo. Eighteen years old; when you thought back to him and looked at old pictures, you wondered if he ever regretted that hairstyle. He wore thick black glasses over his dark brown eyes, a small black earring in his left ear. He was cute, maybe even hot, but there was something about him, something magnetic, and you couldn’t help but wonder what his deal was. You could tell, just by his energy, that he was one of your fellow actors, and you looked at the seat beside you, empty and awaiting someone. Maybe he would sit by you and you could talk to him. Although, knowing yourself, you would be too shy to really talk to this cute guy.

The sweet and cute shaggy-haired boy spotted the empty chair quickly, and he scooted past other people in the row to get to it. He threw you a quick smile— braces on his teeth— and, in a soft voice, asked, “Is this seat taken?” 

“No,” you told him quickly, moving over a little bit on your own seat to show just how empty the chair next to you was. 

“Thanks,” he said, and your heart slammed in your chest as he sat down. He smelled good, like expensive cologne that he probably got when he graduated from secondary school, and he gave you that smile again before he said your name. 

“Huh?” you asked. How did he know your name?

He pointed at the badge around your neck, the one with your name and “ACTING ACADEMY” printed on it, and he said your name again. 

“Oh, right,” you chuckled, and you looked at his own badge. “JOSEPH QUINN: ACTING ACADEMY”. “Do you go by Joseph, or, like, something else?” 

“Really only my mum calls me Joseph,” he said. “My friends all call me Joe.” 

“Joe,” you said. “Looks like we’re gonna be classmates.” 

“Looks like it,” Joe chuckled. “What dormitory are you staying in?” 

“Umm, I’m not,” you said. “I’m actually from London, so I live with my family.” 

“Oh, cool,” Joe said. “We have something in common!”

“Do we?” you smiled, and you pushed your hair behind your ear nervously. “That’s cool. Where are you from?” Before Joe could answer, you added, “Wait! Can I guess?” 

“Go for it,” Joe laughed. “Only if I get to guess where you’re from.” 

“You’ll never guess right,” you chuckled. 

“Oh, I’ll try,” Joe laughed. 

The whole day, your conversation never stalled, not even once orientation started. You whispered to each other and giggled like children, even after you were fussed at by the orientation leader, and Joe just smiled and tried to keep his laughter down. Finally, the day ended with Joe stuttering out a request for your phone number. “Really?” you asked. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” Joe said. “I think you’re… Well, I think you’re fit, and you’re really funny, a-and, yeah… You don’t have to, but I thought I’d ask—” 

You leaned in and placed your lips on his cheek for just a moment, just long enough to feel the warm blush he had, and, when you pulled back, his blush had invaded his whole face, even up into his hair. “Sure,” you told him. “I’d love to do that.” 

“Cool,” Joe said, and he tugged his phone out of his jeans pocket and passed it to you as he took a deep breath. “That’s cool… Umm, I’ll text you.” 

“Sounds good,” you said. “I’ll see you at class, Joey.” 

“Joey?” he repeated. “Nobody really calls me that.”

“Well, now I do,” you told him, and you bit your lip and smiled. “Bye, Joey.” 

What you didn’t know was that, when Joe got home, he immediately told his mother about the awesome girl he had met. What you didn’t know was that he told his best friend since childhood about you, sighing and saying, “Wes, I met her.” When Wes asked “Her?”, Joe rolled onto his back and imagined your smile and said “Her! My girl, the one I’m gonna be with forever! I met her today!” 

What Joe didn’t know was that, when you got home, you told your own mum about him, and you said, “He’s gonna do great things someday. I know it.” When your mother asked, “How do you know?”, you shrugged and said “I just do. Good things come to good people, and Joey… He’s gonna do amazing things.” 

It didn’t take very long for Joe to ask you out. You had talked every day, sharing most of your classes, and he was a great friend, funny and smart and loyal. It was hardly two weeks into the term when he stopped you after a lecture one day and said, “Hey, umm, my friend and I are gonna go to the movies tonight, and I-I was wondering if you wanted to come with us.” 

“Really?” you asked. “That’s nice. I’d love to go.”

When Joe picked you up at your house that night, he seemed nervous. His friend, a blond boy named Wes, was in the backseat of his car, letting you ride in the passenger seat, and the three of you talked up a storm. You had fun with them, but the real heart-pounding fun started once the lights went down in the theater. 

The movie was fine, suspenseful but predictable, but Joe’s hand kept lingering over to yours before withdrawing, like he didn’t mean to keep touching your hand. You wondered if he would make up his mind— will he or won’t he?— and finally, he committed and held your hand properly. It was adorable how nervous he seemed, and your lips tingled. You wanted to kiss him.

Towards the end of the movie, the darkness around you seemed encroaching suddenly, and you took the opportunity to clutch to Joe’s arm, squeezing his hand. He looked at you and smiled softly, and he leaned in and whispered, “Are you scared?” 

“No,” you mumbled. Your face went hot, though, and you added, “Maybe a little.” 

“I’ll protect you,” Joe chuckled softly, and he removed his arm from your grasp to sling it over your shoulders, drawing you right up against his warm body, barred only by the armrest between you. He rested his cheek against your head, holding you close as the movie finished, and you caught Wes’s smile as the lights came up.  

“Y’know,” Wes started as you waited for Joe outside the restrooms. “You’re all he talks about.” 

“Really?” you asked. “I mean, I think he’s pretty cool, and I talk to my mates about him a lot too…”

“He’s been dying to make a move on you,” Wes told you, and the heat returned to your face. “But he’s also kinda a pussy when it comes to asking girls out; I’m surprised he even managed to ask you to the movie. Basically, all I’m saying is… Don’t count him out.” 

“I’m definitely not,” you told Wes. “In fact, I… I was planning on kissing him tonight.” 

“Good luck,” Wes said. Then, his eyes flicked behind you, and he added, “Shit, here he comes, act cool.” 

You laughed as Joe approached the two of you, and Joe asked, “What’s so funny?” 

“Oh, umm, nothing,” you giggled. “Wes just made a joke.” 

You could feel Wes’s gaze on you as he lingered behind you and Joe as you walked to the car park, Joe’s pinky finger nudging yours every so often. Carefully, you captured his finger with yours, linking you together, and Joe adjusted his glasses as a pink blush filled his face. 

The ride back to your house was quiet, all things considered, the tension between you and Joe so thick that Wes could have swam in it, and the tension only snapped when Joe offered to walk you to the door. “Oh, you don’t have to,” you sighed, even though you knew what that meant. You had seen plenty of romantic movies— if Joe walked you to the house, you would exchange an awkward but pleasant conversation before he tried to kiss you. Your heart thudded in your chest as Joe shrugged, and he said, “It’s not a bother.” 

In the electric buzz of your mum’s porch light, Joe took your hands and laced your fingers together, and he mumbled, “Alright, so, I’m sure you’ve figured out by now how much I fancy you. And it was nice of you to, like, hold my hand and let me put my arm around you and shit, but you-you don’t have to pretend or anything.” 

“Who said anything about pretending?” you asked. “Joey, I’m an actor, but I’m not that good of an actor. I really fancy you too.” 

“Do you?” he asked, his eyes rounding with hope. “Do you really?” 

“I do,” you said softly. The pounding of your heart was getting overwhelming, and you squeezed his hands. “I really do.” 

“Awesome,” Joe chuckled. “Umm, c-can I kiss you? Before I leave?” 

“I…” you started, halfway embarrassed about this. “I’ve never been kissed before.” 

“That’s okay,” Joe told you. “That’s not something to be ashamed about. Do you want me to kiss you?”

“I… I’d like that a lot,” you told him carefully, and Joe gave you a relieved smile. Slowly, making sure not to move too quickly and scare you, he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes slipped closed as your arms moved to swing around his neck, and he held your hips tightly as he titled his head and deepened the kiss just a bit. His lips were soft, and he tasted like cherry Chapstick, and you sighed as you pulled away to break the kiss. As far as first kisses went, you considered it a pretty damn good one, and you laughed softly as you looked down at your feet. 

“Thanks, Joey,” you told him. “Umm… Do you wanna be my boyfriend? Y-You can say no! But I just really fancy you and—”

Joey kissed you again to stop your blathering, smiling against your lips, and, when you pulled away, his glasses were a little bit askew. “I’d love that,” he said. And that was it. Easy peasy. 

From then on, you and Joey were inseparable. You hung out between classes, had dates every Friday night, stayed over at each other’s places for the weekend. It wasn’t long before Christmas holiday came, and you kissed your first boyfriend at midnight as the new year rang in. Joey was your first everything: he was your first boyfriend, your first kiss, the very first boy you ever loved. 

He was also your first time, which was a point of contention. By the time the new term rolled around, you knew how impatient he was getting. He never would have admitted it to you and would have denied it to the ends of the earth had you asked him, but he was a, by then, nineteen year old boy— he probably had wanted to fuck you since the first day you met. But you were nervous, and kept postponing it. You had done little things to try to alleviate some of his waiting, rubbing him through his jeans and letting him feel up your shirt, but going all the way was daunting. You told him as much the first time he tried to get in your pants, and Joey was understanding. “We can wait,” he said. “It doesn’t matter to me, truly. I just want you to be comfortable.” 

Finally, summer holiday came, and you decided that enough was enough. By now, Joe and Wes were renting a flat not far from campus, and you spent most of your time there, but now that you were unencumbered by classes, all of your time was spent there. You had practically moved in with them— you kept clothes in Joe’s closet, a toothbrush by the sink, tampons in the bathroom— and, one night, Wes packed a bag. “I’m staying at Liam’s for the night,” he told you when you inquired, and you childishly puckered your lips and made kissy noises at Wes as Joe cooed at him teasingly. Liam was Wes’s current boyfriend, and Wes had gushed to you about how he thought Liam was “the one”, and you poked at him absolutely relentlessly about it, but you were just happy that Wes was happy. 

“Have fun,” Joe called as Wes left the flat, and no sooner was the door shut and locked than were you straddling Joe’s waist and kissing him. He grunted in surprise and grabbed at your waist as he kissed you back, and it was only once you broke the kiss that he asked, “Darling, what’re you doing?” 

“I’m fucking done with being scared,” you told him. “I know that you’re good, that you won’t hurt me or anything like that, and virginity is such bullshit anyway, it’s not real, so who cares?”

“Love,” Joe said lowly. “Are you really sure? Because we can wait if you want, I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, I’m okay waiting however long you want.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” you told him. “I want you.”

“Alright,” Joe sighed. “Okay. Fuck, all my condoms are old, I don’t—” 

“I’m on the pill,” you told him softly. “Got on it just for you.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you’ll give me an ego,” Joe chuckled. “And a boner, but that’s already happening.”

“You’re so funny,” you told him, and you kissed him again. “Make love to me, Joey.”

That night, Joe did as you asked, and he made love to you for the first time. He undressed you slowly, taking his time to care for you and love on you, sucking on your skin and feeling you in his hands, and he laughed softly when you carefully took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. “You look so handsome like this,” you told him, and Joe eagerly kissed you, spreading your legs to wrap around his waist. 

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever fucking seen,” Joe told you, and you kissed him deeply. 

Joey held your hands as he slid deep inside you, shushing you when you whined at the unfamiliar stretch and burn, and he rested his forehead against yours and watched you react to every roll of his hips. His eyes stayed locked on yours intensely, heightening every sensation, and each panted breath was met with a kiss. Before long, you felt that knot tightening in your belly, and you whimpered, “Baby, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Me too,” Joe huffed out. “Want you to cum first.” 

It wasn’t much longer before you were squeezing your legs around his hips and throwing your head back as his fingers met your throbbing clit, and you moaned as you came, the fuzzy feeling in your stomach invading your head and taking your breath away. He wasn’t far behind you, pulling out just in time to spill all over your stomach, and his reddened chest heaved with heavy breaths as he pulled himself out of bed and found a towel to clean you off with. “You alright?” he asked, wiping at the remnants of himself that laid on your belly and chest, and you threaded your fingers in his hair and pulled him into a kiss. 

“I’m alright,” you told him. “I…”

“Yeah?” Joe asked expectantly. 

“I love you,” you whispered to him, and the flush in his chest crawled up his neck to his cheeks and ears. 

“You do?” Joe asked, his eyes big and round and hopeful. You loved his eyes. 

“Of course I do,” you told him. “I’ve loved you for a long time, I’ve just been… I don’t know, too scared to tell you until now. But I’m not scared anymore. About anything” 

Joey leaned down and softly kissed you again, and he mumbled, “I love you too.” 

If you thought you were inseparable before, nothing compared to that summer. Most of your time was spent in each other’s arms, fighting off the heat in bed together. Now that every boundary had been broken down, you weren’t afraid or hesitant anymore, and Joe liked it. He was more affectionate than before, always trying to kiss you or hug you as you cooked dinner, dragging you into bed whenever he got the notion, and you indulged him every time. 

Also that summer, Joe turned into a man. He invested in contact lenses during the break, got his braces off, cut the ridiculous mop on his head, and took out his earrings (you cried, because the earring was just so cute) and your boyfriend’s burgeoning maturity only made you want him more. God, he was the most handsome man you had ever seen. He was better than those stars in the movies that he took you to see on date night, and he was better because he was yours. 

When the term started back, you noticed something about your boyfriend. Before, girls didn’t really take notice of him. Maybe the lone girl who giggled at him when he goofed off in class, but everyone knew that you and Joe were an item. You were the “it” couple at LAMDA, everybody knew you, but, with all of the physical changes that Joe made, came more competition. Suddenly, girls were trying to talk to him more often, pair up with him for breathing exercises or short film projects— you were almost twenty by now, you were an adult, but jealousy still flared in your stomach. 

And Joe. Your sweet Joey never really saw it. He mentioned it off the cuff a few times, mostly joking when you were sullen after finding out that he had been asked out again by some girl— ”Aw, baby, are you jealous?”— but you never let him know the full extent of your jealousy. He didn’t need to know. You were just his girlfriend, not his controller. If he wanted to talk and flirt with other girls, that was his business; after all, he was fucking you and not them. You were never worried that he would cheat on you, because you knew his heart was good and that he would make reasonable decisions. 

In retrospect, you both should and shouldn’t have been worried. 

Just after your two year anniversary, weeks before Joe’s 21st birthday, an opportunity fell into his lap. “An audition,” he told you excitedly. You sat on the couch in his flat, legs drawn up under you as you read the email on his computer that he had presented you, declaring that a new BBC show was casting young men ages 18-25 for a role in their new period piece. “I got an audition.” 

“Oh, Joey!” you crooned and put the computer aside, sitting up and hugging him tightly. “You remember our audition class last year? You aced it! You’re gonna do great, I know it.” 

“I’m so nervous,” Joe admitted, rubbing your back as he buried his face in your neck. “What if I don’t get it?” 

“But what if you do?” you asked. “Baby, you can’t discount yourself, you’re perfect for this! I always knew you’d do great things, and this is just the start. And so what if you don’t get it? The fact that you even auditioned is amazing. I’m so proud of you.” 

“I love you so much,” Joe whispered. “Thank you for sticking by my side.” 

“Of course,” you told him. 

The next week was his audition with the BBC, and you fretted all day. You felt sick and called out from class that day to stay home and wait, and, when the door to the flat opened and Joe bustled in, you couldn’t wait anymore. “So?” you asked eagerly. “How’d it go?” 

“Good,” Joe said simply, unwinding his scarf from around his neck. 

“Just good?” you asked. “Tell me all about it! Who was there, what happened—”

“Well, love, I’m under contract, I can’t really talk about that,” Joe said, and you sighed. 

“Yeah, but I’m your girlfriend, contracts don’t count when—” and you stopped yourself. “Wait, contract? What contract?” 

Joe was quiet, but his smile was a mile long. “A BBC contract,” he said finally. “They offered me the role at the audition.” 

You couldn’t help yourself. You screamed and jumped up, and you flew into Joe’s arms and squeezed him around his middle. “Oh my God!” you cried, kissing him all over his warm and pink face. “Joe! No way!” 

“I have a job,” Joe said, proud of himself, and you kissed his lips before you laughed. 

“What did I tell you?” you said. “Don’t count yourself out! Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you! What’s your character’s name?” 

“Arthur,” Joe told you. “Arthur Havisham.” 

“Arthur,” you repeated, and you kissed him again. “Oh, my sweet boy, I knew you could do it.” 

To celebrate his accomplishment, you went out to dinner that night, leaned in, smiling and laughing together as you shared a bottle of wine. When you got home, the flat was empty— Wes was at Liam’s again— and you went down on Joe. His hands clutched your hair and he filled your mouth, and he reached down and kissed you, whispering “I love you” as you swallowed his spend. 

The show, a quaint period piece called Dickensian, started filming in the new year, and you were excited for him. In the weeks preceding the shoot, he had costume fittings and hair and makeup tests, and you went with him to everything that you could manage while still attending your classes. He was the talk of the town at LAMDA— a third year acting student getting cast in a large-scale BBC production didn’t happen often— and everyone seemed to know him and, by extension, you. As much as Joe had a role to play, so did you: the supportive girlfriend. Of course you were proud of him and never said otherwise, but he was all anybody wanted to talk to you about anymore. “How’s Joe? What’s he doing? What’s it like on set?” You answered all of their questions and more, but, little did they know, trouble was brewing. 

It started with little things. Joe would tell you that he would be home from set at a certain time, then text you minutes before, telling you that they were running late and not to wait up for him. Then, he’d lumber into the flat late at night, not even bothering to greet you some nights before he passed out asleep in bed. He would wake up early, for his call time was always fairly early in the morning, and he’d slip out of the flat without waking you to say goodbye. 

One of the bigger incidents was when he flopped into bed one night, leaving his clothes on the floor, and, when you went to gather them, found red-colored stains on the collar of his shirt. “What is this stain?” you asked him, running your thumb over the stain. 

“Why d’you care?” Joe mumbled, grabbing his pillow and shoving his tired face in it. 

“I need to know if I need to treat it before I wash it,” you told him, then, under your breath, added, “Since I do the washing up around here, apparently.”

“It’s, umm…” Joe started sleepily. He yawned, then said, “Makeup. They make me wear a lot of makeup.” 

“Are you sure?” you asked, and Joe sighed. 

“Yes, fuck,” he grumbled. “Let me sleep, love, I had a long day.” 

Red makeup. Why would he be wearing red makeup? You swiped your thumb across it, and it came back a little waxy. Lipstick. You knew that he was lying, but you dreaded a fight, so you kept it to yourself. Lipstick on Joe’s collar; it made your stomach turn. 

Another incident came on Joe’s birthday. He wasn’t filming that day, but he was still out all day. You were awaiting his arrival, tired and lonely and just wanting some time with your birthday boy, and you sighed when the door finally opened. “There you are,” you smiled, and you opened your arms for him. “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too,” Joe said, coming into your arms and kissing you gently. “Sorry, my mum wanted to take me out.” 

“No worries,” you said as alarms went off in your head. You had called Joe’s mum earlier in the day to try to get her recipe for Victoria sponge so that you could make it for dessert after dinner (you had succeeded, and a completed cake sat on the counter in the kitchen), and, in the conversation, it came up that Joe’s mum regretted not being in London for Joe’s birthday. “I’m in Liverpool for the week,” she told you. “I guess we can celebrate when I get back.” If he wasn’t with his mum, where was he?

Finally, the nail in the coffin came. On a cold March night, your skin still rippling with the feeling of Joe’s tongue, your boyfriend asleep next to you, he mumbled in his sleep. He did it every so often, mainly when he was stressed or nervous about something, but it was usually little things, things that you couldn’t discern. But this was discernible, and it made your stomach turn. “Amelia…” Joe mumbled, and he turned away from you in his sleep. 

You were awake all night. Amelia. Who the fuck was Amelia? The same girl who had left the red lipstick on his collar? The same girl he had spent his birthday with? You didn’t want to feed into delusions and jump to any sort of conclusions, but everything seemed so damning to you. You were scared and anxious and looking for any answers, and the girl’s name gave you an answer. Joe was cheating on you. 

By the time Joe’s alarm woke him up at 6am (you even doubted his call time now; was he leaving early to see her?), you were up and packed. You lived with Joe and Wes now full-time, and you sniffled as you tried to think through your options. You could move back in with your mum until you found accommodations, or you could shack up in a hotel somewhere, or move in with a friend, or... Anywhere but here. Joe stumbled out of the bedroom to find you on the couch, jiggling your leg nervously, biting your fingernails down to the quick, your bags by your feet. “Darling?” Joe mumbled, scratching his blondish curls. “Wha’s’this?” 

“I’m leaving,” you told him simply. 

“Is everything okay?” Joe asked with a start. “Has something happened?” 

“You know, I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you,” you said, your eyes narrowing as you held down your tears. “When we were eighteen, our first day at LAMDA, and you came and sat next to me, I’ve loved you since that moment. And I only thought that you felt the same way.” 

Joe’s eyes nearly burst out of his skull behind his thin glasses. “I do!” he said quickly. “Love, what’re you talking about? Of course I love you!” 

“Then, have the decency to break up with me before you start dating another girl!” you hiccuped. “At least spare me the heartbreak of hearing you say her name in your sleep.” 

“What did I say?” Joe asked. “Darling, what name did I say?” 

“Does it matter?” you asked. “It’s not mine, and that’s what matters. The lipstick on your collar was the biggest tip off for me, and I-I let you explain it away! I should have left you the very moment I found that shit!” 

“Please calm down,” Joe begged you. “You can’t leave, you can’t, what am I supposed to do without you?” 

“You should have thought about that before you went and cheated on me,” you spat. “I hope Amelia makes you really happy, because you’re all hers now.” 

“Amelia?” Joe repeated. And he laughed. The bastard laughed at you. Anger ran hot in your chest, and you gnashed your teeth and grabbed the handle of your bags. “No, wait, darling, let me explain! Amelia isn’t— She’s my—“

“I don’t care who she is,” you told him. “I’m done being lied to and deceived. I’m just fucking done.” 

What you didn’t know was, as soon as you left, Joe fell to his knees and wept. His heart pounded, and he clutched his chest, trying to dig his poor heart out. He was still on the floor in the living room when Wes came home from Liam’s, his sobbing still as heavy as when it started, and, when Wes too fell to his knees and asked what was wrong, Joe sniffled. “She left me,” he said. “Just packed up her things and left.” 

What you didn’t know was that, the day you found the red makeup, Arthur had been beaten, and had reddish-purple bruises on his face, and some of the painted makeup had gotten on Joe’s collar. What you didn’t know was, when Joe spent his birthday out, he was at a jeweler’s, looking at engagement rings. What you didn’t know was that, at that moment, Joe’s heart was irreparably broken, and he clutched his childhood best friend as he sobbed. 

When you first got home to your mother that day and told her what happened, she sighed and held you as you cried, and let you curse Joe’s name over and over. “I thought he loved me,” you sobbed. “I thought he loved me!” 

Luckily for you, the end of term came while Joe was still filming, and he missed most of your shared classes. Word got around quickly that the "it" couple had broken up, and, while nobody asked you about it, you knew they were gossiping. But no matter. You had your own career to deal with, signing up for auditions and sending out self-tapes to anybody that was accepting. You got a role in a small teen sitcom on BBC 3, just a three-episode arc, and you were elated. Your first job, right out of school! You were proud of yourself, but the victory felt hollow; you had nobody to share it with.

You only saw Joe in person one other time, at your small graduation ceremony in the spring. He received special honors and was chosen to be class speaker, and you held back your tears as you listened to him talk about perseverance and hard work. “And, truly, I couldn’t have done it without someone special,” he said, and he locked eyes with you for just a moment, just long enough for your heart to soar, then he looked past you. “My mum.” You clapped with everyone else, and wiped away a tear.

He approached you after the ceremony, holding his diploma under his arm, and you shouldered your purse as he gave you a small hug, the most awkward show of affection in the world. Your hand nearly went to the nape of his neck, the way you knew he liked, but you stopped yourself. “Hey,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I’m still proud of you, you know.”

“I know,” Joe said. “I heard you got cast in something.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just, umm, some stupid sitcom. Three episode arc, you know how it is.”

“That’s still cool,” Joe said. “I just wanted to… Congratulate you, I guess.”

You nodded silently, brushing off tears again. “Wes told you to come speak to me, didn’t he?” you said softly. “You didn’t wanna come talk.” 

“You know me so well,” Joe said, with no hint of humor in his voice. “Be good, okay?” 

“You too.”

At Christmas, just as filming for your show ended, you were flipping channels on the telly, looking for something that wasn’t A Christmas Story on a loop. You thought back to this time last year, pulling crackers with your lover and unwrapping thoughtful presents, and your heart hurt just as you flipped to the BBC, and suddenly Joe was on your screen. No, not Joe; Arthur. Arthur Havisham, incensed about something. You leaned forward closer to the television to try to get a better look, and you watched as his face pulled up in that way it did when he was trying not to cry, and he said, “Didn’t you hear him? I have no home.” 

“Mum!” you called, and you clutched the throw pillow to your chest as your mother came from the kitchen. Your eyes stayed glued on the screen as it flipped to a different scene with different characters, and your mum asked just what was the matter to have you yelling halfway across the house, and you sniffled. “I hate him, but I’m proud of him.” 

“Who, love?” your mum asked. 

“Joseph,” you mumbled. “His show is on the telly.” 

“Oh,” your mother said softly. “Well, turn it off, then.” 

“No,” you said as he came back onscreen. He looked so handsome, his dishwater blond curls done just right, his eyes big and expressive, his lip trembling— you tried not to imagine what you would be doing if you hadn’t broken up. You probably would be sitting in his lap and kissing him silly every time he came onscreen, and he would be laughing and protesting even watching it in the first place. Wes would be at your side, maybe Liam too, and you would be one big happy family. But he had ruined that, ruined it with—

“Amelia Havisham.”

Your heart stopped. Amelia. The girl onscreen answered to that name, and you wanted to throw up. Amelia. Amelia was a character on the show. Amelia was Arthur’s sister. “Oh no,” you whispered. “What have I done?” 

You grabbed your phone and dialed Joe’s number, and you waited for him to pick up. Only, he never did. The call rang for ten rings, then sent you to his voicemail, and you cleared your throat. “Hi, Joe,” you said softly. “It’s me. Umm, I just wanted to let you know I’m watching Dickensian, and you… You did a really good job. Well done. And Amelia…” You weren’t sure exactly what to say, and you gently added, “I’m sorry. Call me when you get this; I just wanna talk.” You hoped that he understood what you meant.

In your heart, you knew that you had done Joe badly, not letting him explain his point of view when you broke up, but, getting confirmation that he in fact did not cheat on you only proved to you how truly shitty you had treated him. And now he wouldn’t answer his phone when you called. He didn’t have an Instagram that you could stalk, and you were certain that even Wes would avoid your calls, and your heart seized up. You ruined it. Not Joe, you. You had ruined the only good thing you ever had. You had surely broken his heart, and it made you sick to think how badly you had treated the only person who loved you totally unconditionally. 

Joe never called you back. You never saw him again— not in person, anyway. Every few years, you’d be watching television and come across him. A random role in Game of Thrones, a small part in a time-travel show, a not-so-small role in the BBC’s Les Miserables adaptation. Your heart never really healed, and every time you saw him only opened the wound a little more.

And then, one day at work, your world turned upside down. Literally.

-

taglist: @eddiethebloodiedhand, @zestychili, @tlclick73, @chickennug90, @etherealglimmer, @phyllosilicate-s, @cinnamoncunt, @stardancerluv, @birdysaturne, @joeqnz, @freakymunson, @winchester-angel, @wordscomehither, @icallhimjoey

[specialagentlokitty]

Carol Danvers x teen!reader - a mentor and a friend

Hello Can you please write something with carol danvers x teen!reader where she mentors the reader who is like extremely awkward but very adorable and just causes chaos all the time with good intention and is incredibly sweet. And can it be set during the marvels movie. Thank you - Anon💜

A/N: mentions of spoilers from the marvels movie

Sitting in your best friends now destroyed living room, you looked at her parents before looking back at the woman who was standing in front of everybody.

“I uh… amma go…” you whispered.

You slowly backed towards the door, stumbling over your own two feet a little bit, catching yourself on the wall.

“Ah, no you don’t, we need a word (L/N).”

“No we don’t! Bye!”

You rushed through the house, jumping over the chair and towards the back door, stumbling down the stairs and falling over.

“(Y/N)! Don’t run!” Kamala’s mum called.

You looked at her with wide eyes.

“I don’t wanna deal with whatever this is!”

“Please! Kamala is out there, you can be with her, keep her safe.” Her dad sighed.

You looked at her parents and sighed a little bit.

“I’m not here.”

You vanished from their sight, and you crept to the edge of the garden, hoping they would think you had just left.

You watched as the superhero looked around a little confused.

“(Y/N) is like Kamala, she has powers too. But (Y/N) doesn’t run around fighting crime.”

The superhero nodded her head.

“(Y/N), my name is Carol, I know whatever is going on here is affecting you too every time you use your powers, we can figure it out. I just need you to come talk to me about it. Please?”

Carol looked around the garden and sighed a little bit.

“Okay. Well, I have to go, but if you change your mind Nick can get in contact with me.”

She jumped, flying into the air, and you watched in amazement.

Unfortunately due to your lack of concentration, you released your hold on your powers, and you were dragged away with your friends family.

But the moment you saw Kamala again you crushed her into a hug.

“Did you meet Captain Marvel?!” She whisper yelled.

“No…”

“(Y/N)! You were there!”

You grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head.

“I know! Sorry! I just.. felt awkward..”

“Well great news! Now you can! You’re coming with me!”

And you were dragged off on some mission to save the universe.

Though while the three were trying to figure out what was going on with their powers and how to work as a trio, you sat there on a chair.

“Don’t you want to join?” Monica asked.

Everybody looked at you and you shook your head, quickly getting up to leave the room, going to find somewhere else to sit.

“What’s up with them?” Carol asked.

“Oh yeah, (Y/N) doesn’t really do too well with people I guess. They’re like really awkward, but their powers are so cool!”

“So, they can help us?” Monica asked.

“I don’t think so, they don’t really know how to use them, and they don’t want to be here either, but came because we all swap places when we use our powers.”

Carol glanced in the direction that you went in.

“I’ll go talk to them.”

With that, she made her way through the ship, trying to figure out where you would go.

There was a lot of hiding places on the ship, and she had an idea.

Activating her powers, Carol swapped places with you, and did it again, a little grin on her face as she walked into the room you were hiding in.

It was empty, but she knew you were there, so she stood in front of the door.

“(Y/N), can we talk?” She asked softly.

She didn’t get a reply.

“Okay, I’ll talk. Kamala told me you didn’t want to be here, and I’m sorry you got dragged along. But maybe while you’re here we can teach you how to control your powers and use them. Only if you want.”

She waited a moment, and she nodded a little, taking her jacket off she set it on the back of the door.

“Alright, well, it can get cold in here so if you’re going to stay here take my jacket.”

With that, she left and you released your powers.

You stayed there for a while, you took the jacket and pulled it on, feeling the cold, and you decided to explore the ship.

You were quiet, not wanting to be detected, and eventually you made your way back to the front of the ship.

Monica and Kamala were fast asleep, and you noticed Carol tinkering with something.

Making yourself invisible you walked over, standing nearby so you could watch what she was doing in curiosity.

“It’s what lets us go at the speed we do.”

You released your powers, furrowing your brows a little bit.

“How did you know?”

Carol set the tools she was holding down and she smiled at you.

“I didn’t, I’ve been doing it all day in hopes that I can catch you out.”

You frowned at her and walked away, settling for sitting on the other side of the ship.

Laughing a little, Carol walked over, throwing a blanket around your shoulders as she sat with you.

“Come on, don’t be mad. I just wanted to talk to you, that’s all. I hear from Kamala you have really cool powers.”

“They’re not…”

Carol turned to look at you a little confused.

“What makes you say that?”

You rested your chin on your knees.

“Hey, whatever it is you can talk to me about it.” She whispered.

You looked at your best friend, shaking your head.

“I can’t.. I don’t want Kamala to know.. she’s so excited for us to be superhero’s and she’s my best friend..”

“She won’t, I won’t tell her.”

You didn’t say anything more.

“She knows you can’t control your powers.”

“She knows?”

“Yeah, but I can teach you. There was a time when I couldn’t control mine either.”

You turned to look at her.

“Really?”

“Well yeah, there’s a time when everybody doesn’t know how to control them kiddo, you just need somebody to teach you. That’s all. Can you tell me about your powers?”

You thought for a moment before explaining what you could to her.

“Right I see, so you manipulate light, you can use it to change the scenery around and make yourself invisible.”

You nodded.

“Okay, well, let’s train. Just us when the others are sleeping, yeah? Nobody will know.”

So, every night Carol would come find you, and you would both work on honing your powers, learning about them and the drawbacks of them.

You would get frustrated easily, and you would often leave, and she would give you your space.

But after a few days of hiding on the ship and avoiding her, you found her sitting in her chair staring out the window.

“Carol…?” You asked softly.

“Hey.”

She turned around and smiled.

“I.. I’m sorry..”

“Come on kiddo, you don’t have anything to be sorry for, you’re trying, it’s hard I know. But if you don’t want to carry on, you don’t have to. You’ve got the basics now and you can control it, that’s what you wanted right?”

You shrugged a little bit.

“Well.. yeah.. but I want to help..”

Carol smiled.

“I learned this…”

You held out your hands and you focused, a small light forming in your palms, creating a little ball of light.

“Hey that’s really cool.” She grinned.

You walked over, placing it in her hands.

“Woah, it’s like a solid object.”

You nodded a bit.

“Can you control it?”

You moved your hand, moving the ball of light around, dropping it on the floor and watching as it bounced back up.

Carol caught it, tossing it in her hands.

“Catch.”

She threw it at you and you quickly caught it.

Carol stood up, and she held her hands out to you, and you threw the ball back at her, both of you beginning to play a game of catch.

She grinned and you smiled a little bit at her.

“When this is over what’ll you do?” Carol asked.

You shrugged a little bit.

“Well, do you want to stay with me for a bit? You could carry on training your powers.”

You caught the light ball and looked at her.

“Really?”

“Well yeah, you’ve come a long way, and I would love to carry on helping you train. You’ve come a long way, and you’ve built up a lot of confidence.”

You looked at the ball of light, smiling to yourself slightly.

“I.. I would like that..”

Carol smiled at you.

You tossed back the ball, and she missed it, and it hit something breaking it and you quickly put your hands behind your back while looking away.

“That wasn’t me.”

Carol laughed.

“I didn’t see a thing.”

You grinned a little at her and she walked over, ruffling your hair a little.

“You’re a good kid.”

You smiled at her and she gestured to the broken cup.

“But you’re cleaning that up.”

“Okay…”

You went to clean the mess you had made and she grinned a little bit.

She had grown used to having everybody around, so maybe having you around would be a good thing for her, and for you.

You needed a mentor, and she was more than happy to be that for you

[pensat-i-fet]

Something I’ll regret (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**A little angsty request. I hope you all like it ❤️❤️ **

Word count: 2583

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“Yeah, I have to go to Bruno’s for an interview”, I tell my boyfriend Rúben while we have some breakfast. I’m not really looking forward to today but I can’t escape it either.

“Why do you have to be there for his interview?”

“It’s what the tv channel asked for”, I shrug.

I often have to be around for these types of interviews. People love it when famous people are related and I happen to be the cousin of one of Portugal’s biggest football stars. And I’m also dating another one of their stars…but we haven’t made that public yet.

“At least I get to just be there with the kids and hang out for a bit while they ask him things and I say two words. Could be worse”.

“Poor you”, he laughs.

“Well, it’s time I could spend with you instead of doing that”.

“Poor me, then”.

“I don’t have to leave just yet”, I say, giving him a wink.

                                    **

When I get to my cousin’s house, it’s his wife Ana who opens the door.

“Hi! You’re early. Come in”.

“Thanks. Are the kids back from school?”

“No, they’ll be here soon. They wanted to go play with some friends and their mum will bring them back here in a bit. I love your dress, by the way! You look stunning”.

“Thank you”, I say, blushing slightly. “Rúben bought it for me the other day, actually”.

“Take notes, Bruno!”

I can’t help but laugh when I see my cousin’s face.

“Thanks for that, Dias”, he mutters. “Ready for the interview? I told them not to ask about your personal life but you know how they are”.

“Yes, I’m ready. I guess”.

Being part of a small ballet company in Portugal doesn’t turn one famous. Having a famous boyfriend does. And when the press found out that the dancer who was dating a famous actor happened to be the cousin of a famous footballer, they just didn’t leave me alone. I went from having the most normal life to being followed by the paparazzi everywhere I went. I hated every second of it.

That relationship, thankfully, it’s over. And I promised to myself to never date someone famous again. My life was a lot simpler when no one knew who I was. But then I met Rúben when I visited Bruno after a Portugal match and…well, he made keeping that promise really hard.

At least he understands I want us to be private. 

“There they are”, says Ana.

“The kids?”

“No, the journalists”.

Time to do this then.

                                       **

“And where is your beautiful cousin?”, I hear one of the reporters ask.

“She’s over there, playing with my kids. She’s their favourite cousin”.

When I see the cameras pointing at us, I move so the kids aren’t shown too much on camera.

“Hi!”

“Hello. How is life in England?”

“It’s alright. I love being here with some of my family”.

I expect the next question to be about work. I have moved on to other projects ever since I quit dancing, but no. Of course, the next question is about the same old topic.

“Anyone you met here that makes you want to stay? You know…as in a new love?”

“She doesn’t like talking about that”, interrupts Bruno. 

“Yeah, I rather keep those things private. Sorry”.

“Of course, after what happened the last time…”.

By that, he means when my ex cheated on me and the whole country found out. Yes, that makes me want to be more private. But these people don’t get it.

“We’ll go play in the garden. Have a good rest of the interview”.

                                   **

Days later, I get to Rúben’s and find him watching Bruno’s interview.

“Why are you watching that?”

“I wanted to see you”.

“I’m right in front of you now, you can’t stop watching it”, I laugh.

“And…I also wanted to see what you were asked. You were in a bad mood after it and I was a bit worried when you didn’t want to talk about it”.

“Just the same thing they always ask”.

My mood isn’t the only one that changes after my words. I can see Rúben looking uncomfortable.

“What is it?”

“Nothing”, he says.

“Rúben, come on”.

“It’s just…I get why you want us to be private but if you said you have a boyfriend, they’ll leave you alone”.

“Are you really that naive?”

“Whatever. Whenever we talk about this, you just get all defensive”.

“Because you don’t get it, Rúben. And this wouldn’t just affect us. It could affect my cousin too”.

I know Rúben wants to say more. It’s written all over his face. But once again, he’s the one who stops before we say something we regret and just changes the topic.

A couple of hours later, while we are watching a movie, my mind goes back to our argument. I don’t think he’s right but maybe it’s worth a try. Maybe if I just say that I’m seeing someone, they’ll leave me alone. Ugh! I hate how complicated all of this has to be.

                                     **

One of the reasons why I’m staying in Manchester, apart from Rúben and my family, is that Bruno got me a small job at United. Every couple of weeks, I help the players with their recovery. They are a great bunch of guys, and there are a lot of Portuguese speakers in the team too. So overall, it’s a lot of fun and I get to earn a bit of extra cash, which is always nice. 

Their social media team likes to film little bits of the sessions to put on youtube. And for the last few, it’s become a bit of a tradition for the players to annoy me after the sessions. Those little clips are shared by all the fans. They love them. And I know it's just banter so I don’t mind. 

“Fans! Say thank you to our favourite teacher. We wouldn’t have won the Carabao Cup without her help”, says Dalot to the camera.

I just shake my head before my cousin takes Dalot’s arm off my shoulders. “Leave some space between your favourite teacher and yourself, Diogo”.

But his teammate just laughs at that comment and looks at the camera again. “Guys. He’s doing that so you all stop making up rumours about which one of us she’s dating. Captain Fernandes wouldn’t allow any of us to do it so there you go”.

I’m trying to leave when Antony joins the conversation.

“Ok, no one from United but what about the national team? Would you allow that, Bruno?”

That comment stops us from walking to look at Antony. What does he know?

Dalot, who knows about Rúben and I being together, is the first one to react. “What do you care, mate? You play for Brazil”.

“Just wondering”, he shrugs.

“He wouldn’t allow that either”, I say, leaving the room.

My reason for saying that is to avoid people looking at the Portugal team when I finally say that I have a boyfriend. But not everyone understands it that way.

                                     **

“Hello? Rúben?”

The apartment looks really dark despite not being that late, but I can hear some noise, so Rúben has to be home.

When I get closer, I realised that what I hear isn’t the tv, but the conversation I had with the boys only hours ago when I was in Carrington.

“He wouldn’t allow that either”, I hear coming out of Rúben’s phone. Of course, they added that clip to the video.

“Hey!”

“I’m trying to understand you, but I might give up”.

“What are you talking about?”

He sits up on the sofa and points at his phone.

“Are you embarrassed by me? By our relationship? Is that it?”

“What? No, Rúben. Why would I be?”

“I don’t get it. Why did you have to add that? You could have ignored that question but no, you couldn’t help it”.

“Yes, you don’t get it”, I say, tired of his accusations. “I just said it so when I say I have a boyfriend, they don’t go look at everyone my cousin knows first. That way we can stay private for longer”.

“We’ll never talk about our relationship if it was up to you. It’s one thing to be private but this is too much. I’m afraid of saying anything just so you don’t freak out. And it’s getting really boring, you know?”

“Well, it’s not as if you’re talking about your love for me every day, is it?”, I hate the bitterness of my words so much, but can’t control it.

“You don’t allow me to talk about us!”

“Is that really the reason? Or do you just don’t mention me because it’s better for you if people think you’re still single?”

I know I’ve gone too far the moment the words leave my mouth. I’m such an idiot.

“Get out”.

“Rúben, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”.

“Get out now. Before I also say something I regret”.

And knowing he’s right, I leave. Head down, ashamed and worried about having messed up what Rúben and I have.

                                     **

The only place I can go is my cousin’s. And when he opens the door and sees my face, he understands something is wrong and lets me in without asking why I’m there.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, he says when he brings me a cup of tea.

“I messed up”.

“How? And I’m assuming we talk about Rúben, right?”

“Yes”, I sigh. “He watched the video United uploaded today and didn’t like that I said you wouldn’t let me date a teammate from the national team either”.

“I’ll talk to the boys so they stop pestering you with those questions”.

“Bruno, it’s not about them. I’m the problem. I keep hurting my boyfriend because I refuse to talk about our relationship. It’s me that needs to change. No one else. I can’t hide behind other people’s actions any longer”.

“Why do you do that? Refusing to talk about it. I respect your decision but you guys have been together for a while now. I expected you to have gone public months ago. And you know I’ve supported you since the beginning, so that can’t be it”.

Why am I doing this? Fear, simple as that.

“I don’t want a repeat of last time. And if people don’t know about us, then it can’t happen”.

“I get it, but it’s not really fair to Rúben, is it?”

But before I have time to say something, little Gonçalo runs towards his dad, asking for a hug. And so my cousin has to take him back to bed and do their little routine again.

I take my phone and end up on Rúben’s Instagram profile. When I see he’s uploaded a story, I can’t help but click on it. It’s actually a link to a post in the City profile and I go see what it is about.

It turns out he did some sort of Q&A for the team. He was asked about his fitness routine, and his favourite food, …and then I realise I’m a bigger idiot than I already thought.

To the question of what he likes doing in his free time, he answered “spending time with my girlfriend”. And as if that wasn’t painful enough to hear, I go to the last one. My cousin enters the room just as I’m listening to Rúben say “who inspires me the most? My girlfriend”. 

I throw the phone away and put my hands on my face. 

“I’m an asshole”.

                                    **

Despite wanting to run to Rúben’s the moment I watched those stories, I don’t. I know he needs time to be angry at me. He has every right to be. I just hope he can forgive me. 

“When are you talking to him?”, asks Ana.

“Later. After his training. I want to give him some time to be alone”.

“Probably a good idea. He’ll be hurt after what happened”.

I volunteer to take the kids to school. I could use the distraction and they know how to cheer me up, making me sing songs on the way to school or playing games that have to be cut short because the drive there isn’t that long. But I promise them we’ll continue playing later.

When I finally go to see Rúben, I fear he might not be there. But after a second knock on the door, he opens it.

“I’m sorry”.

He doesn’t respond but leaves the door open so I can go inside.

“Rúben, I shouldn’t have said that”.

“No, you shouldn’t have”.

I sit next to him and try to hold his hand, expecting him to take it away. But he doesn’t. He lets me hold it and that small gesture gives me so much hope.

“You know what happened with my ex. The worst part wasn’t the cheating, but the fact that everyone knew. Because all the headlines and covers were about me. Me looking sad, me going out with friends despite people expecting me to be sad, …me me me. Everyone wanted to humiliate me. And I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want to date anyone famous ever again”.

“I understand that”.

“I know you do. And I took advantage of you because of it. I forced you to do as I said because I knew you didn’t want to hurt me. And I was really unfair”.

“I wish I could say I disagree”.

“I get it, Rúben. And I’m sorry. So sorry. Can you try to forgive me?”

He looks up at me and I squeeze his hand harder without noticing I’m doing it. I’m really that scared of him saying he can’t forgive me. I can’t lose him.

“Only if you change. I’m happy having a private relationship but I can’t live constantly worried about saying something that uncovers the secret. I want to be able to mention you, even if I don’t say your name. This whole thing is exhausting. And…I know a part of you didn’t want us to go public because you are afraid I could do what your ex did. And while I get it, it hurts to know you think that of me”.

I try to avoid his eyes but he doesn’t allow me, holding my chin so I look at him.

“Tell me I got it wrong”.

“You didn’t”, I confess. “I would feel the same with anyone. I guess that’s what happens when you’re cheated on once. But I trust you. Really. I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t. And I also wanted to protect you”.

“From what?”

“People creating drama between my cousin and you”.

“Let us worry about that, ok? We can protect ourselves well”.

I hesitantly move closer to Rúben, and when he allows me to do that, I put my arms around his waist. I missed being this close to him.

“I’ll change. I’ll stop being so worried and afraid about people knowing about us”, I tell him, meaning every single word. “And I trust you. Honestly. I won’t make you feel again like I don’t. Because you don't deserve it”.

“That’s all I needed to hear”.

“Am I forgiven?”, I ask, looking up at him and when I see him moving closer to kiss me, I can’t help but smile.

“You know I can’t stay mad at you long. And yes, you’re forgiven”.

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you Chp.21

Pairing: Minchan (mention of OT8)

Word Count: 4613

Summary: Chan and Minho organize a long break for the whole group, knowing they all need one after these troubling times. Five months later, Chan gets a taste of Minho in his best form, and he couldn't be more proud.

Warnings/Tags: fluff, cuddles, smut, min is insecure about his weight gain, small misunderstanding, the boys are in love

Chp. 20 | Back to the beginning

A/N: Thank you to everyone who made it this far and enjoyed the story. Thank you for the lovely requests and comments, they made the whole process so much more fun. My first Stray Kids project is officially "done". As always, I am open to writing more as long as you have concrete wishes and ideas. I've enjoyed writing this series a lot, delving a little more into the aspects of their hidden relationship, the insecurities and challenges that come with that, and so on. So please, if you'd like more, maybe also about the other pairings in this specific setting, don't hesitate to let me know - Nat🖤

Setting fire to my already tamed feelings Don't make me bad, bad Addicted to you Once we've started, you must be mine Addicted to you - Lee Know, Felix & Hyunjin

“I need a break,” Chan announced to the room. Everyone stared at him, surprised but curious about the sudden confession. Everyone just finished lunch and gathered in the living room to relax. 

“Uh, thanks for the warning?” Felix chuckled.

“We all do,” Chan continued on. The boys began to share confused expressions. “We’ve been working our asses off ever since Minho came back. None of us has had time to rest.”

“That’s true,” Changbin nodded.

“I talked to our management and got us all a month off,” he said and smiled as they all looked at him with a mixture of shock and excitement. “I want you all to go home for a while. Check in with your families, spend some time with them. I’ll be leaving a few days earlier than you all. I promised my mum to stay with them for a while after they found out most of what happened through our recent interviews. If you’d like, we could still go on vacation together during the last week. Maybe you all could come to Australia again.”

“That was quite fun,” Jeongin nodded excitedly. 

“And they approved all of us leaving for a month?” Jisung asked, stunned.

“It took some work,” Minho admitted. “But we’ve told them that the past few months have been too much not only for Chan and myself. I, more or less, let them know that they’d have to deal with more public breakdowns if we wouldn’t get a break soon,” he laughed. 

“Which was quite convincing, apparently,” Chan giggled. “So vacation starts in two days. Felix, you’ll still have to attend that fashion event in four days, but then you’re free to leave.”

“Sounds good to me,” Felix smiled excitedly. He couldn’t wait to go back home for a while. “My parents would love to see you guys again.”

“My mother hasn’t been talking about anything else since I suggested it,” Chan snorted.

“As long as she makes us that amazing dinner from last time again,” Hyunjin grinned.

“I bet she will,” Seungmin laughed.

"Australia it is then," Minho nodded, chuckling at his friends. As everyone continued the conversation, his heart warmed seeing the people he loved most…happy. 

-

Chan had been gone for a week now. Everyone else, besides Felix and Minho, left for home two days ago. Minho decided to stay with Felix before he flew to Australia so he didn’t have to stay at the house all by himself. 

“How’s Chan?” Felix asked one evening as they sat together on the sofa. 

“He’s having a bit of a hard time, I think,” Minho told him. “His parents are still really worried. His sister was pretty pissed he didn’t tell her how he was feeling instead of having to find out through the interviews.”

“She’ll calm down in a few days,” Felix chuckled. 

“That’s what I told him,” he nodded, but a slight unease still lay in his tone. 

“But?” Felix asked, picking up on it.

“You know Chan, he always gets a little depressed without us there,” he shrugged and leaned back. “He keeps telling me how much he misses me. He never did that before either. It’s not like we haven’t been apart for this long before,” he giggled softly.

“You never meant this much to him before,” he reminded him kindly. 

“Fair point,” Minho sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I have an idea,” he told him excitedly. “You’ve just visited home, and you always visit your parents after therapy. I bet they wouldn’t mind if you’d come with me instead.”

“To Australia? So early?” he asked, opening his eyes to give Felix a confused look. 

“Yeah. I always book two seats to have some peace during the flight so I can take you with me easily,” he told him. “We could surprise Chan with you just showing up at the front door.”

Minho giggled softly. “That would actually be fun.”

“Come on, call your mum. I’m sure she’d agree,” he laughed.

Minho quickly grabbed his phone, calling his mother. “Hi, mum,” he said cheerfully. “I have a question,” he got straight to the point, putting her on speaker. But there was no response, to Minho’s disbelief. “Mum?” he called out with a small whine, a cute pout beginning to rest on his lips.

“You’ll be leaving for Australia early?” she asked, laughing as Minho gasped.

“How the hell did you guess that?” he asked, stunned. Felix started laughing at him in the background.

“Oh please! You were talking about your boyfriend nonstop when you came over last week. Also, you’ve been visiting here so often now that I knew you wouldn’t feel bad not coming to stay with us for a few weeks,” she laughed. “I bet he really misses you, Min.”

“He does,” Minho nodded.

“You should go,” she told him kindly. “Felix?” she asked, quickly identifying him by his cheerful laugh. 

“Yes?” he asked politely. 

“Take care of him on that flight, yeah?” she asked. 

“Of course I will,” he promised. “I’ll bring him back to you safely.” Minho’s mom gave her goodbyes and ended the call. 

Minho smiled widely and pulled Felix into a warm, gentle hug. “Thank you, Felix.”

Felix nodded and hugged Minho, squeezing him tightly. “Of course, Minho.”

-

Chan was still lying in bed, scrolling through his phone and trying to stay awake. He tossed and turned all night, and the lack of sleep was trying to lure him back into a deep slumber. He yawned softly and stretched his tired body. He began smiling as he heard the small patter of his dog coming down the hallway and into his room, hopping on the bed. “Hi Berry,” he said softly.

“Chris?” his mother called out for him from downstairs.

“Yes mom?” he shouted back, not really feeling like moving. 

“Someone’s here to see you,” she said. “Can you come down here for a moment?”

He groaned softly. If his mother asked in that tone, he was sure it was a friend of theirs wanting to see how their idol son was doing, maybe even collecting a few autographs on the way. “Fine,” he groaned, quickly pulling a sweater over his head to cover his naked chest. He walked down the stairs, not noticing the person standing next to his sister with a grumble to himself. “I swear if this is another - Minho?!” he asked, his jaw dropping as he finally looked up at the visitor in question. 

“Surprise?” he asked gently. Before he knew it, Chan was in his arms, lifting and spinning him around. “Channie, nooo” he giggled, wrapping his legs around his waist. “I just stepped off the plane, go easy on me!”

“What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I could’ve picked you up from the airport,” he pouted, a whine can be heard through his tone. 

“Hannah did,” Minho said gently. Chan looked at her surprised, not believing she was in on the surprise. “Felix had an extra seat, and we decided to surprise you.”

“When do you leave?” he asked.

“Whenever you leave,” he told him. Chan’s smile widened. Minho laughed as he put him back down on the ground and hugged him tightly. 

“And where will you be staying?” he asked, still not fully grasping that he was actually there.

“Here, you dumbass,” Hannah told him, rolling her eyes at him.

“Your mum said it would be alright,” Minho said gently.

“Of course it is!” she assured him with a bright smile. “You’re always welcome here, Minho.”

“Thank you,” he smiled at her. Chan couldn’t help himself anymore and kissed him passionately, pulling him in close. Minho grunted softly, but returned the kiss happily. He pulled back and stared at him, a bit dazed. “I suppose you told them about us?” 

“Obviously,” Chan laughed.

“I told him fighting to get you back to the group was the one thing he did right the past few weeks,” Hannah said teasingly. 

Minho giggled softly and pulled her into a hug. “I missed you too, little sister,” he said fondly. “But don’t be too hard on him, alright? I wasn’t exactly easy to be around either.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes, but they knew she meant well. Minho was always fond of Hannah since the day they met. 

Minho smiled at Chan and reached out for him, grabbing his hand. “I think I need a nap.”

“That’s the jetlag,” he chuckled. “I had another shitty night myself, let’s go.” Minho followed him upstairs to his room, giggling as Chan threw the door closed and kissed him needily. “Fuck, I missed you, baby.”

“I missed you too, love,” he said softly, wrapping his arms around his neck. “So, so much.” Chan buried his face in his shoulder, hugging him even tighter. “Are you okay?” his voice laced with care and warmth, fondling his hair. 

“Yeah,” he whispered, hot tears burning in his eyes. 

“Channie?” he asked gently, pulling back a little and lifting his face. “Oh, angel,” he whispered.

“I really fucking missed you, that’s all,” he assured him.

“You’re so cute,” he told him, pressing their foreheads together. “I’m here now. I won’t stop getting on your nerves for a whole month,” he smirked. “There’s no staff to stop us either. And the others get here in three weeks.”

“Sounds perfect,” he smiled and brushed their noses together. “Just you and me.”

“Mhm, just you and me, Channie,” he smiled softly, cupping his face and kissing him gently. The two almost got lost in their embrace, until Minho pulled back to speak. “Uh, before I forget, my therapist asked if you’d like to join the next session?”

Chan frowned softly at the request. “Why?”

“She thinks it’ll be easier to work through certain things that happened with you there. Like collapsing on stage and getting to the hospital after. I don't have many memories of that night,” he shrugged. 

“Alright, sure thing,” he nodded. “Now let’s get some sleep.”

Five months later

Minho looked at himself in the mirror, carefully fixing his hair. He was wearing a perfectly fitted dark suit that hugged him in all the right places, the vest painted with blue stripes. A delicate necklace rested on his skin, and a ring on each hand completed the look. The one on his right ring finger being a present from his boyfriend. The color definitely complimented his dark hair. He crouched down a little, testing his trousers, which were a little tight. 

"Minho hyung, what are you doing?" Felix laughed at him, leaning against the vanity not too far from him. He was walking around looking for his friend, just to make sure he was doing okay. 

Minho met his eyes through the mirror and started to laugh as well. "I'm scared I'll rip them. They're not the best fit for this dance." 

Hyunjin looked up from his phone, sitting comfortably on a nearby couch. "I bet Chan wouldn't agree with you on that." 

Felix grinned and made his way over, taking a closer look. "I think you look stunning. Time to tease your boyfriend." 

Minho chuckled at them and playfully rolled his eyes. "Don't think Changbin won't drool over you either," he winked at him, making the younger one blush. "Oh wait, we have another style expert right here. Doesn't our sunshine look handsome, Hyunjin?" he asked the younger male and turned Felix in his direction. 

Hyunjin smirked and put his phone aside. "What do you think made him blush so hard a minute ago?" 

"Oh, I see," Minho chuckled. Hyunjin got up and made his way over, gently grabbing Felix's chin and looking deep into his eyes. The shiteating grin on his face not leaving for a second as his gaze devoured Felix. Minho sensed it and took note. "That's my que to leave. Remember, we have to be on stage in ten minutes. I don't want either one of you to go out there hard."

Felix quickly grabbed Minho's hand and held him back. "If you leave, he won't stop being a tease. I’ll definitely be in trouble then." Felix pleaded with the cutest pout on his lips.

Minho giggled softly and stayed where he was, taking out his phone. With a chuckle, Hyunjin decided to have mercy on Felix and gave him a sweet, loving kiss. Meanwhile, Minho saw a few messages from Chan pop up and smiled stupidly, reading them. 

I’m so proud of you, baby! You’re gonna be amazing out there. Good luck!

Minho texted a few hearts back and chuckled as Chan asked for a picture. He told him he had to see his reaction live, which made Chan send a bunch of emojis. "Alright, let's go," he said, putting his phone aside. 

The three of them made their way to the side-stage and looked into the audience. "That's a lot of people out there," Felix whispered. The older two took his hands, squeezing them encouragingly. 

"Perfect audience to perform this song for, for the first time ever," Hyunjin told him, winking cheekily at him. 

"Look, there’s Channie and the boys," Minho said, pointing at the first row a little to the right. Chan and Changbin were sitting next to each other, almost placed perfectly in his opinion, to watch Felix and himself. Jisung, Seungmin, and Jeongin were sitting next to Chan, all waiting curiously for their friends to come on stage. They began to walk out on stage as their names were announced and smirked at the screams, combined with Chan's eyes widening seeing his outfit. They both knew Chan was a sucker for him in blue. The lights only increased the effect. 

As they waited for the music to start, Minho met Chan's eyes and teasingly opened his suit jacket with a winning smirk, putting the ring on display. He had trouble holding back a grin as Chan licked his lips. The fans started cheering at his action, and Minho turned his attention to the audience. He chuckled into the microphone and did it again, this time for the audience, before getting shy at the screams and smiling brightly, looking down at the floor. Felix and Hyunjin giggled at his antics, trying to stay serious themselves. 

Changbin and Chan exchanged a look, knowing the other probably had the same impure thoughts about his boyfriend. "Fuck me," Chan breathed out quietly, and Changbin chuckled at him. 

"I'm sure he would if you'd ask nicely," he grinned and earned a punch in his arm. The others laughed at them, not needing to hear them to know what they were talking about. 

The music started, and Minho locked in, starting to move to the beat. It was kind of funny that not even their members knew what they were in for. The moment Felix's beautiful, deep voice rang through the air, the fans started shouting, and honestly, he didn't blame them. Minho started his verse, and to his surprise, he got about the same reaction to his smooth, soft voice. A rush of adrenaline filled him, and he knew he was performing well, judging by the looks of his members as he danced during Hyunjin's part. Minho took a deep breath and casually strolled to the side before starting to sing the higher notes, hitting them all beautifully making the crowd go wild once more. Chan beamed at him proudly, knowing how hard he had worked to perfect that part. 

Chan was mesmerized, looking up at his boyfriend on stage in awe. He looked beautiful in this outfit, and his heart warmed seeing him wearing the ring he bought him. His voice sounded amazing tonight, and his stage presence was undeniable. Thinking about it, Chan couldn't remember ever seeing him so in his element like this, which meant a lot, considering Minho was their main dancer. 

What didn't help was watching the way his body moved in front of thousands of people and knowing how he looked beneath the many layers of fabric. Chan did, in fact, appreciate the tight suit pants, and his jaw dropped as he got down on the floor, rolling his hips with his hand placed dangerously close to his crotch. Jisung nudged him gently, and he quickly closed his mouth again, shifting a little in his seat. 

Minho moved into a sitting position, continuing his dance movements. His intense gaze locked into Chan’s, captivating him as he continued singing. "Don't make me bad, make me bad, I'm addicted to you….Don't make me bad, bad, addicted to you." 

Chan's eyes clouded with desire the longer he watched him. He couldn't help himself feeling like Minho put on a perfectly balanced show for him and their fans. 

The performance came to an end, and they took their ending pose. Minho panted softly before meeting eyes with Chan and smirking succeedingly, knowing exactly how much he had just worked him up. He exchanged a look with Felix and Hyunjin before they all left the stage, waving at their cheering fans and friends. 

They made their way back to their room and weren't even able to sit down as their friends and boyfriends stepped inside. Minho's eyes widened at how loud the room suddenly was, and laughed at their friends, telling them how amazing their performance was. Locking eyes with Chan made him shiver with anticipation. Chan simply nodded at the door before leaving again. Minho slipped outside as the others were busy and frowned softly when Chan was nowhere to be seen. He walked down the hallway, and a door to his left opened. Chan grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside, throwing the door closed again. Minho found himself pressed against the door within seconds, and a low moan fell from his lips as Chan braced himself next to his head, looking down at him with nothing but desire in his eyes. "Hi there," he said innocently. "You liked the performance?" 

Chan grabbed his chin and searched his eyes. "You think it's funny making me hard in front of I don't know how many people?" 

"You…wow," he grinned proudly. 

"Don't look so smug," Chan giggled and groaned softly, pressing their foreheads together. "Fuck, you looked hot up there, baby."

"Thank you," he smiled sweetly and nudged his nose. "What's the secret room reserved for you only about?" he asked, spotting the name sign on the desk right in front of the mirror. Catching his reflection, he had to admit he was looking great tonight, even now that his hair was a bit of a mess. 

"So I can kiss you without anyone seeing, of course," Chan answered casually. 

"Oh," he nodded and couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. 

"You sound like that's a bad idea," he commented, frowning at him. He almost looked a little disappointed. "Did you think we'd - Minho!" 

"What?" he asked, slightly offended, and ducked down, taking a step to the side and away from him. "I'm sorry. I thought that was your intention, leading me away from everyone. You could've kissed me in our room." 

"You can't possibly think I wanted to have sex right here? With so many people passing by that door at all times?" he was a little in shock, and Minho rolled his eyes at him before sitting on the desk. 

"Why not? When did that ever bother you before, huh?" he asked and started fiddling with the necklace to take it off. "Forget it. This was a stupid idea," he said and took off the necklace, slamming it down on the table. 

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked softly. 

"No, obviously not. I'm making a fool out of myself here hoping this-," he gestured at himself. "-would finally make me attractive enough in your eyes again to go further than a kiss." 

"Wait, what?" he asked truly shocked now. His eyes widened at what he thought Minho was insinuating. 

"Two months ago, you would've gotten into my pants before I properly locked the door. You've been locking yourself up with Hannie and Changbin lately. And it's starting to piss Felix off, but I guess it makes me question myself. I don't know when the last you actually touched me and…is it because I gained weight again?" he asked, a flare of insecurity igniting in his brain as he glanced down at how his form-fitting. "Or-," he stopped as Chan was suddenly in front of him, cupping his face. 

"Baby, take a deep breath," he said kindly, and Minho glared at him, huffing softly but doing it anyways. "I'm so sorry for neglecting your needs. We've just been creating so much for the group and working on new stuff. I didn't know it was making you question yourself." 

"Well, of course it does," he pouted and nervously played with his ring, looking down at it. "Just forget it, Channie. I'm being stupid, this whole idea was stupid from the beginning." 

"What idea?" he chuckled softly. 

"All of this," he said grumpily as Chan seemed to find it amusing. 

"A warning would've been nice, kitten," he said, his voice growing smooth and low. 

Minho blinked at him, and his stomach flipped at the desire dancing in Chan's pupils. "About what? The outfit, the flirting, the dance..the intention behind all of it?" he asked innocently. 

Chan fondled up his thighs. "All of it?" he asked quietly and leaned in closer. 

"Well, where's the fun in that?" Minho asked and sank deep into his eyes. 

"I would've come prepared," he told him. 

"Check my pockets," he smirked and hopped off the table. 

Chan frowned softly before reaching into the pocket at the back. He couldn't help himself, teasingly squeezing his ass before pulling out two condoms. "Did you..?"

"No, I didn't carry them around on stage, you dumbass. I had them stored away in the waiting room," he protested, taking out the small bottle of lube from his jacket. 

"Fuck Min. Are you sure we can do this now?" he asked, checking his phone for the time. 

"Seriously? There are twenty performances before ours, which gives us at least an hour," he groaned impatiently. "But if you keep wasting time, we can't do this."

"You really came prepared, huh," Chan giggled, watching Minho impatiently unbuckling his belt. "You're in a rush?" 

"Whatever you plan on doing, these trousers come off," he told him. 

"That's a bummer. Your ass and thighs look really great in it," Chan pouted playfully. 

"They look even better when I’m straddling your dick, now move or I'll do it myself," he gave back smoothly with a hint of sassiness. Chan pulled him into a very passionate kiss, intoxicating enough to keep him dazed. His hands grabbed his ass, pulling him close as their lips met. "That's more like it," Minho smiled as he pulled back.

Chan hummed gently and unbuttoned the blue-striped vest, kissing down his torso as more skin slowly revealed itself. "By the way, you look beautiful as always, and I don't mind you gaining weight one bit," he assured him before planting a loving kiss right on the scar on his stomach. 

Minho smiled gently and brushed his hair back, looking down at him. "I know…you know how I get sometimes." 

"I do," he smiled and squeezed his hips before coming back up and kissing him on the mouth instead. "I think after delivering such a show, you deserve to see how stunning you look when you fall apart."

Minho gasped softly and looked at him with wide eyes, darkening with passion. "Just be careful and don't leave a mark in places people will see with the new outfit." 

"I'll be careful," he promised before turning him around so he was facing the mirror. 

Minho leaned back against him, inspected their reflection, and met his eyes through the mirror. "Don't we look good together?" 

"I think we fit together perfectly," Chan hummed, agreeing, and reached down into his pants, stroking his dick gently. Minho's eyes fluttered, lips parting with a gasp. Chan growled lowly and buried his nose in his neck. "Fuck Min, please tell me you're keeping this outfit. I need to fuck you properly in it tonight." 

Minho blinked at him through the mirror. "Shit, is this one of your kinks, hyung?" 

Chan pressed himself against him and gently wrapped his hand around his neck, careful not to leave any marks. "Call it whatever you want, kitten." 

Minho shivered at the contact and melted against him. "I mean, I can ask if I can keep it," he said and chuckled as Chan let go of him, dropping down to his knees in front of him. 

"You're right, I haven't been appreciating what I come home to every night enough," he tells him and fondles up his thighs. "Let me make it up to you," he said, taking the band of his boxers between his teeth and pulling them down, along with his pants. 

-

"Where's Chan hyung?" Changbin asked, confused. 

"Probably fucking Minho hyung's brains out, why?" Jeongin gave back dryly. The painfully loud silence called him to look up from his phone. "What?!" 

"Sometimes it scares me how grown-up you are now," Hyunjin said with wide eyes. His words were rewarded with him sticking his tongue out at him. 

"Maybe it's the other way around," Seungmin suggested with a shrug, casually scrolling through his phone. 

"The suit might work," Jisung hummed, agreeing. 

"I hate you all," Changbin groaned. 

"Loosen up, babe," Felix smirked. "We all know he's right." 

"Exactly," Jeongin grinned before squinting his eyes at Felix and Changbin. "Also, weren't you doing the same thing just minutes ago?" 

"Darling, that's enough," Seungmin said softly. 

"At this point, we should be allowed to do it on the sofa. Everyone knows anyway," he shrugged. 

"Minho hyung, help!" Hyunjin shouted in shock, making everyone laugh. "He'd kick your ass for that." 

"I'll go and get some coffee. Let's hope they're back to collect their kids after," Changbin sighed, and Felix giggled softly. 

"You're their kid too, dumbass," Jisung pointed out. 

"Yeah, fuck you too," he laughed. 

-

Minho pulled up the zipper of his pants, smirking at Chan, fixing his messed-up hair. Their eyes met through the mirror, and Chan turned, again dropping to his knees. He hugged him tight, burying his face in his stomach for a moment before looking up at him with dreamy eyes. Minho beamed at him, gently brushing back his hair. He hadn't been this happy in a while, being on stage without thinking about his knee anymore. He had his friends there, a very supportive boyfriend, and gosh, he loved him. All that stupid drama, those many lows and equal ups in between had made them grow much closer than before. He wouldn't want it any different now. Minho was finally truly happy, ready to face whatever was coming with Chan right by his side. This time, he was sure he'd have his back. "Channie hyung?" 

"Yes?" he asked sweetly. 

"I love you," he said. "Never forget that." 

"I think I'm addicted to you," Chan breathed out, and his eyes grew incredibly soft. "I love you more than anything else." 

"You'd die for those kids out there. Don't put me first," he giggled softly. 

"I'd die for you too," he told him. Minho believed him, truly. 

"Stay alive for me, baby boy," Minho shook his head, crouching down and kissing him hard on the mouth as tears brimmed Chan's eyes. 

"I love you too," he whispered and took his hand, kissing the ring. He got up and held up his pinky finger. “You and me against the world?”

“Forever,” Minho answered smiling, sealing the deal.

Chp. 20 | Back to the beginning

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@atinyniki @kailee08 @mal-lunar-28 @aaasia111 @lilmisssona @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @mellhwang @lixie-phoria @michelle4eve @xxstrayland @lost-in-avoidance

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Somewhere only we know

Part 2

Part 2

Young Daryl Dixon x fem reader

Synopsis- No outbreak and modern ish day AU (set in 2007-2010 era) Reader moves to the Georgia mountains, to live with her dad for her final year of school, as her mum is going travelling with her new husband. She meets a shy redneck boy with a tragic background, who immediately captures her heart.

Warnings - mentions of abuse, tragic upbringings, mentions of injury, feelings, friends to lovers, judgemental town people, readers dad is a sweetheart, Daryl and reader start falling in love, soft smut so 18+ only, Merle is a dick, cuss words, Daryl and reader navigating high school together, my awful writing, let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Word count - 5.4K

_______________________________________

Saturday morning had come faster than you had anticipated, granted it was only eight hours of sleep that separated you from asking Daryl to meet. But still it had felt like no hours had passed at all. You were so excited to see him again this morning but so anxious too, why are you thinking of this as if you’re going on a date, you’re not. This is two almost friends meeting up for a coffee and a walk, you needed to calm down!

Sighing at yourself for your ridiculous inner monologue, you pulled yourself together and got dressed before you were officially running late. Pulling on your ripped jeans and a nirvana hoodie you grabbed your phone and sent Daryl a quick message “Now leaving mine, I’ll see you soon”.

Grabbing your keys you raced to the door shouting “I’m now off out to meet Daryl dad, I’ll be back before dinner”, “ Alright honey bee, make sure to message me if plans change” he responds. “Will do, bye dad”, with that you rushed out to your new but ‘old’ car. You felt incredibly lucky your dad bought you a little run around to get you about. It made things a lot easier to have your own car, it meant your dad didn’t have to drop you to school everyday, and it was the first time you’d owned your own vehicle.

Just as you were starting the engine your phone pinged “Hey, I’m already er, wat coffee do ya drink?” He’s there already? Are you late? Checking the dash 9:45am no your not late yet, he’s just early “Wow your early! I usually have a cappuccino one sugar, I’ll be there in ten!” You smile feeling almost giddy, he must have been looking forward to seeing you too, then you scald yourself for thinking that, he’s just being nice.

Arriving at the lake you spot him sitting on a bench watching the water, cutting off the engine you swallow a nervous gulp as you exit the car. You have no clue why your stomach is swirling with butterflies, it isn’t the first day the two of you have spent time together. You must really be starting to like this boy you think, as you gently pace your way over to him.

Turning to you as he hears you approach, a large grin crosses his face and you determine yeah your really starting to like this boy. “Hey Daryl” you smile, “Hey” he replies handing you your coffee, “Oh thank you, you didn’t have too!” You gushed, “It’s no problem, think of it as a thank ya fer yestarday” he responds with a shrug. You smile at him taking the coffee and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, watching as his face turns beet red.

Not wanting to embarrass him further you say “Shall we take a walk then?” Motioning with your hand. “Yer sure” he mumbles still blushing from your quick peck.

Walking along side the water your talk about everything that comes to mind, you realise you can well and truly be yourself around Daryl, and it’s a really refreshing feeling. As your barrel out a story of your eccentric mother he just watches you with a small smile, “So she literally just takes her shoes off and dances in the puddle, right after being told to move on! She never listens to anyone telling her what to do, it was always super embarrassing as a kid, but now I kinda admire her for it” you laugh.

He retells a story of his brother nearly dying because he was so drunk, and Daryl saving his ass, only for Merle to rip into Daryl for not saving the booze. “Wow your brother sounds like a right pain, I’d of been thankful to have my life in tact” you affirm, “Yer you’d hav thought he’d of been happy I saved his ass, but nah, he was more worried about the beers” he agrees laughing with you.

You were both so submerged in your conversation, you didn’t notice the lady from the shop walking along with her husband. Nor did you see the judgemental looks on their faces, as the lady walked towards you, urgency in her footsteps. “Well hi there sweetie, I thought I warned you about getting involved with this boy” she jabbed voice still sickly sweet. You blanked in that moment, just stared at her in disbelief that she had the audacity to come over to you both, let alone say these harsh things.

“Excuse me” you stammer, still in absolute shock.

“I said I told you this boy was nothing but trouble honey, you don’t want to be tarnished in this town before you even start your life here, do you?” She presses.

You turn to look at Daryl and the sight broke your heart, he was looking down towards his feet, brown hair shielding his face while he kicks the dust with his feet. He looks so broken, so sad, but also like he’s used to this and that upsets you even more. Without think you took his hand in yours and laced your fingers together, and much to your surprise he let you, even if he stared at you in confusion.

“Who I choose to be involved with is none of your business, and to be frank you don’t know Daryl, you’ve never taken the time to get to know him as a person, and if we are judging people on their families here, then I hope your kids aren’t as judgemental, condescending and rude as you, otherwise we will have problems when I start school Monday” and with that you walk off pulling Daryl with you, leaving the couple stood there with their mouths agape, not quite believing the way you stood up to their bullying.

Once you were a safe distance away you turned your attention to Daryl again “You ok?” You ask timidly, hoping you haven’t crossed a line he didn’t want crossed. “Yer, uhhh no ones ever stood up for me like tha before……. Thanks” he stammers, looking at your in earnest. You smile warmly at him, “Of course, if you let me I’ll always be here to stand up for you” you reply. He just gives you a small smile before looking at the ground again, cheeks and ears once more turning pink. He can’t quite believe the effect you have on him, he’s never felt like this before about anyone. No ones ever really been there for him in his life, not even Merle. This is a new territory for him and he doesn’t really know how to deal with it, but he knows the last thing he wants to do is push you away. So he gives a slight smile and looks at the ground, while giving your hand a small squeeze.

For the rest of the walk you don’t let go of his hand, moreover he doesn’t try to let go either, and you both can’t help the butterflies that stir up a storm in your stomachs, smiles never leave your faces while there’s what feels like static energy pulling you both together.

_______________________________________

When you arrive home that afternoon you heard your dad on the phone, he sounded incredibly frustrated. “Did she cuss at you?” He asks.

“No so from what your telling me is, she stood up for herself and her friend, as she didn’t instigate the conversation, you did. She didn’t cuss at you, she didn’t use physical force, and you want me to punish my daughter for not letting you bully her? Well in that case you can forget it, in fact I’m proud of her for standing up for herself!” Then he hangs up with a deep sigh, before noticing you standing there watching the scene unfold.

“You’re not mad at me?” You ask, “No honey bee, I’m not mad at you, I’m actually rather proud of you for having the courage to do what’s right! I’m just frustrated at the situation, I don’t want things to be hard for you down here, it’s a small town and gossip spreads like the plague” he explains calmer than you’d expect he would. “I understand dad, but she just stormed over to me and started, I froze to begin with, I didn’t know what to say I’ve never seen anyone have the audacity to do that before. In Arizona people just keep to themselves, no one cares what others are doing, it’s a big adjustment for me.” You mumble.

“I know honey, I know” he sighs pulling you in for a comforting side hug, “I am proud of you though, your kindness always shines. And Daryl is a sweet boy, he helps out at the garage so I’ve met him a few times, he’s always shy but he’s a nice lad, always super helpful” your dad mentions. “Yeah he told me today he has an apprenticeship there, and he will be working there full time once he finishes school” you comment. “He’s a great guy dad, and I don’t know why everyone feels like they can be so cruel” you frown. He gets enough cruelty at home without the rest of the town making his life even more difficult.

“I know honey bee, why don’t you go get cleaned up and we can cook some dinner together?” Your dad offers, “Yeah ok that sounds good” you reply before heading upstairs for a shower.

The rest of the evening goes by without any more issues, but you can’t help replaying the scene that happened today in your head, you still felt so angry that anyone could treat someone like that, as if he wasn’t a human being with feelings too. Although with the new feelings swirling in you for Daryl, you think you’re starting to take it more personal than you would have before.

_______________________________________

Monday comes about in a blink of an eye, your first day of school and your currently sat at the principals desk listening to your introductory talk. She hands you a welcome pack and a timetable. “This should be everything you need, if you have any issues or questions feel free to pop back in and ask, I’ll be on hand all this whole week.” She kindly offers, “Your dad mentioned you’ve already become friends with mr Dixon, so I’ve put you in the same form class, as I thought it may help you settle in if you have a friend, I know he could definitely benefit from it too” she explains with a warm smile, and you think to yourself ok not everyone in this towns so bad after all, it will be nice to have someone else on your side.

Entering your new form room you notice Daryl sat at the back of the class, head down looking at the sheet he’s currently doodling on, he hasn’t noticed you yet so you take the time to watch him for a moment, admiring the way he is so adorably absorbed in what he’s doing.

The teacher breaks your train of thought by introducing you to the class “Morning everyone, this here is y/n y/l/n, she has just moved here from Arizona, I’m sure that you will offer her a warm welcome and any help she needs finding her feet” he asserted. “Hello y/n” the class says in unison, and all you can think is how humiliating this is, your eyes meet Daryl's brilliant blues and it grounds you, for a moment you don’t feel so unbelievably uncomfortable. He gives you an encouraging smile, so you look at the teacher for instruction. “I hear you already have a friend here so if you’d like to take a seat with him that’s fine with me” he motions in whisper, so only you can hear him as the rest of the class go back to chattering to their classmates.

You nod, before heading to the back of the class plopping yourself down next to Daryl “Hey” you beam happy to see him again, two days has felt a little too long and you’re both generally happy to see each other. “Yer sure ya want ta be seen with me?” He asks voice full of worry, “I’m incredibly sure, your my favourite person in this town, well other than my dad of course” you admit, turning red again he gives you a small grin and a gentle nod before looking at his sketch pad once more. You don’t miss the classes eyes on you both, or their hushed whispers to one another as they watch you and Daryl interact.

As he looks up catching their judgemental stares, you take his hand in yours under the desk giving it a comforting squeeze, a silent way of saying ignore them, don’t worry I’m here for you. With that you both get on with the rest of the lesson, hands intwined under the table.

Your first month of school passed by in a blur, you’ve made a few other friends along the way, a kind girl called Ali short for Alison, who was a math whiz and just as shy as you and Daryl were. You introduced Daryl to her and the rest of the group, with little encouragement they seem to slowly accept him into their little friendship clan. The others in the group were nice too, a boy called Matt who was a computer nerd, he was so clever that you struggled to keep up with what he was saying, another boy called Greg who played the drums and dungeons and dragons, also loving the game you suggested that everyone here start a campaign. This began a cascade of planning evening meet ups, and creating a whole fantasy world you can turn into a great game.

The last in the group was a loud boisterous girl called Gemma, she was as energetic as a puppy on speed. But she also seemed kind, honest (sometimes brutally so) and fun, although you were sure she only hung in this group because she was so obviously in love with Greg.

This new circle of friends seemed to be the cast outs, so they were the perfect group for you and Daryl to make friends with. They weren’t judgemental, they didn’t bully others and they were good people.

Today you were all sat around your ‘regular’ lunch table, with Greg going over his plans for the D&D campaign, asking Daryl for his opinions, and if he could draw some art for it. This made your heart swell, because Daryl actually agreed to do it! It was so nice to see him open up to others.

“So if you could draw this creature here, oh! And maybe a dragon, bright fire in orange and yellows?” Greg animatedly asks Daryl, “Yer I can do tha” Daryl agrees, you smile holding his hand under the lunch table, you begin drawing small circles on his palm with your finger. It had become normal for you both now, holding hands. No one ever mentions it although Ali sometimes smiles noticing you both interlock your fingers, a knowing look on her face, watching you both quietly she can tell feelings are surfacing between you two, even if you haven’t noticed yet yourselves.

You and Daryl had only grown closer, he came for dinner a few times a week now. Your dad was always happy to have him over, he fully supported your friendship, but even he could see the shift between the two of you, he could see the way you looked at Daryl, and the way Daryl gazed at you like you hung the moon in the sky. He was unsure for a while, but then decided Daryl was a much kinder boy for you to be with than a jock or one of the judgemental assholes who lived in this town. He genuinely liked Daryl, and hoped that having him over more often lessoned the abuse he could receive if he was at home.

Still listening to Greg ramble on you felt your phone buzz in your pocket ‘Hey Honey bee, just out shopping so I wanted to know if Daryl's over for dinner tonight? Xx”

“Hey Dar, my dad wants to know if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight?” You ask him, effectively muting Greg’s rambling. “Uh yer sure, got no where else ta be” he drawls, “Great I’ll let him know” you grin. You loved it when he came over for dinner it meant there’s a whole evening where you’re not worrying about his safety at home, plus you also love spending extra time with him. Whether it’s laughing with your dad, bubble wars when you wash up, or helping him with homework, it was just great being with him.

“Yeah dad he’d love too, thanks :) xx”

Buzz

“Ok great, I was thinking we could make homemade pizza together? Could be fun? Xx”

“That sounds great! Yeah let’s do that! Xx”

Buzz

“Great! Xx”

You smile, you’re incredibly lucky to have a dad like yours! He was so kind and understanding, you wished Daryl had a role model like that too.

_______________________________________

That evening you and Daryl walk into your home excited to see everything your dads laid out, the large kitchen island is covered in all sorts of pizza toppings and he’d already made up the dough, rolling it out into pizza shaped circles and placing them on the wooden platters ready for customising.

“Wow dad! You’ve outdone yourself! This looks amazing!” You express, “Glad you like it, I’ve alresdy started up the outdoor pizza oven, thought we could do the wood smoked type? Oh hey Daryl you good?” You dad asks “Yer, thanks I’m good” Daryl nods. “Good, so what do you kids think?” Your dad offers, “Yeah sounds good dad!” You affirm, dropping your bags and washing your hands ready to make pizza.

The evening was great fun, you all laughed so much, the kitchen ended up looking like a bomb had hit. But the pizza was amazing, and you all had a great time making the mess!

Later on sat in the car outside Daryl’s run down little home he sighed, “I really dun wanna go home” he admits, you turn your body to look at him, running your hand down his face and stroking his cheek, you bring his gaze to yours. “If anything happens, or you need me at all you just call me and I’ll be back here in a flash ok?” You stressed. God did you hate dropping him back off home to this place, your dad has offered your sofa several times and even the spare bedroom tonight, but Daryl always refused, scared it would cause more trouble with his father than if he just went home.

Looking up at you he nods “Yer I know” giving you a tight lipped smile he slowly exits the car. You watch him into the house waiting a minute to make sure you hear no yelling, before turning the car around and heading home yourself.

You lie awake for ages that night worrying, so this is what love feels like you think to yourself. Worry that claws itself into your gut, causing such an unsettling feeling you almost feel nauseous. You accepted a while ago now that you loved Daryl, you were still trying to distinguish though how you were going to deal with it, and what it all means. Eventually by 3am exhaustion seeps in and sleep takes over.

_______________________________________

Walking into class the next morning you frown to yourself noticing Daryl wasn’t sat in his usual spot, you walk over and take your seat in the chair next to his. Looking around you see Greg’s sympathetic gaze on yours, then noticing other peoples knowing stares your stomach sinks. You think back to that day you ran into him at the meadow, he had skipped school that day because his father had beaten him so bad he couldn’t face it.

Bile rose up your throat, all you can think bout is Daryl. You can’t pay attention to a single thing your teacher is saying, you can’t focus on your work or the diagram you’re meant to be studying. Your stomach is sinking further and further, your chest is constricting and your heart racing.

Placing your hand over your heart as you try to ground yourself, trying to breath through the panic and focus on the lesson that’s happening in front of you, but you just can’t. Sweat starts beading on your forehead as the panic keeps rising “Miss y/l/n are you alright?” Your teacher asks, concern written on his features, you must look rough if he’d noticed.

“No I'm not feeling so good, I think I should maybe go home” you answer, your voice coming out more strained than you intended. “Of course, you head on home I’ll let the office know” he replies, “Thank you sir” you nod, jumping up and gathering your things moving to exit the class quickly, but not before hearing one of the jocks shout out “It’s because her boyfriend isn’t here! And we all know what that means, his old mans beating him a new one” he laughs, your eyes fill with tears as you look at the teacher, he gives you a sympathetic gaze before urging you to go, “Detention for you Mr Owens, meet me at the end of class please” he asserts.

Racing out of the school building you jump into your car throwing your bag onto the passenger seat, your whole body shaking as you turn on the engine. Backing out of the parking lot and onto the main road. You bomb it towards Daryl's house, not even a thought in your head that you should probably let your dad know for not only your safety but Daryl's too. But all you can think of is how you need to get to him right now.

Pulling up outside his house you jump out of the car, bumping into someone. You flinch jumping back, looking up you take in the stranger recognising him from the shop, you realise it’s Merle, Daryl's older brother.

“Woah sweetheart, wats yer hurry” he drawls eyeing you up and down in the most uncomfortable way. “Where’s Daryl!” You demand, trying to keep your voice steady as your body betrays you, still shaking like a leaf.

A knowing smirk crosses his face and it causes your heart to palpate, “I see, n’ wat wud ya wan’ wit ma brother hmm?” He asks, “He wasn’t in school today, and I need to see him! And if you cared about your brother at all you’d tell me where he is...... right now!” You demand, your voice still stuttering but assertive, you don’t know where this new found strength and determination has come from.

Realisation seems to hit his features, “He weren’t in school?” He asks, “No he didn’t show up today, so I need to know where he is!” You answer, Merle sighs realising that means their old man had probably beaten him, he was drunk off his face when Merle arrived an hour ago, rambling and throwing things around the house. He was hoping Daryl had gone to school before the inevitable happened. “Well he ain’t home sweetheart” Merle states.

Looking at you again he could tell you clearly cared about his brother, watching worry cross your face, so he admitted to you that their dad was currently very drunk and angry, in his rage he’d probably lashed out at Daryl, who had probably run into the forest. “I dun know where he goes, when he runs out there, but maybe ya do?” Merle offers. Yeah you do, you know exactly where he goes, that secret meadow, the one only the two of you know about. Where you’d had your first real conversation, where you tended to his wounds that day after their egotistical father hurt him, and where you meet most weekends now, talking and drawing out shapes in the clouds.

You nod to Merle “I know where he is” before he can answer you jump back into the car, driving it up the back forest roads.

Pulling down a empty lane, you run out the car sprinting down the familiar tracks and through the trees, trying not to trip up over tree roots and stones as you hastily glide through the forest.

Coming to the familiar clearing you cross through into the meadow, letting out a huge breath in relief as you see him sitting there, surrounded by the flowers and reeds of green as he mindlessly picks at them. “Dar” you call jogging over to him, he doesn’t look up but doesn’t flinch at the sound of your voice either. You bring yourself over and sit down carefully next to him. “You weren’t in school, I was so worried I went to your’s but you weren’t there” “Wait!” He interrupts your worried yabbering, eyes jumping to yours in shock “Ya went to ma house? Wah wer ya thinkin! Ma dad he could hav hurt ya!” He shouts his voice full of concern, “Hey it’s fine Merle spoke to me outside, said you weren’t there. So I worked out where you were from there, and don’t worry I didn’t tell him about this place” you affirm.

He nods, looking at you still. You notice then the black and blue around his face, his eye is already turning purple, his cheeks are both bruised and there’s a large cut on one of them. His eyes are red and teary and he’s chewing his bottom lip, your face must have given you away because his hand finds yours “I’m alrigh’” he promises “jus culdn’ come ta school like this”. Your hand finds the part of his cheek that’s not bruised, you cup it gently, tears now filling your eyes. “You’re not ok Dar, you can’t keep going on like this” you reply, “It’s not as if I hav a choice!” He argues, “No one but you care, no one does anything to stop it, it’s as if the whole town thinks I deserve it, fuck maybe I do” he yells, tears now flowing down his cheeks again.

You shake your head no “No Daryl you don’t deserve this, not even a tiny bit. I can’t even comprehend how much you deserve Dar, because you deserve the world! There isn’t anyone better than you, gosh I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, see the way you shine. To me you're everything, so please just please don’t talk about yourself like that” you gush, desperate to make him see how special he really is. He stares at you in wonder, thinking what in the world he’s done in this world to deserve you, because truth be told you’re everything to him too. You are the first thing he thinks about in the morning and the last thought that crosses his mind at night, he knows your scent and touch by memory now, both being his biggest comforts.

Gazing at you he admits how he truly feels about you, blurting out “I love her y/n”. Then he panics what if you don’t feel the same way, he’d loose you, he can’t loose you now you’re all he’s got in this world. But your response silences his self deprecation,

“I love you too Daryl, I love you soo much” you admit.

He grabs you pullling you into his lap, his mouth frantically finding yours, it’s all teeth to start with but pretty quickly you find a gentle rhythm. Your mouths slotting together, while your hands hold desperately onto one another. You move you left hand to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, while he grips your waist tighter almost as if he’s scared you’ll drift away.

Your tongue swipes at his bottom lip seeking entrance, which he grants his tongue moving against yours, its clumsy and messy but its new, to you it’s perfect. You lock your legs behind his back, effectively pulling yourself closer to him, your chest smooshing up against his own. The action causes you to grind down against him, causing a stuttered moan to leave his lips. The sound ignites a tingling in your core and you moan back against his lips, grinding down again trying to coach that sound from him again. Your action rewards you and he moans again, his hands slide up your sides under your T-shirt, thumbs slowly tracing the underside of your breasts. He’s almost testing the waters to see if you’d ask him to stop, you don’t. You grab both his hands in your own and move them to grope your breasts fully, moaning when his thumbs stroke your nipples, causing them to harden under his touch.

You arch your back grinding against him again, shifting slightly to find a position where the friction rubs your clit just right, you let out a gasp when you find the right spot, before moving your hips more frantically, head falling onto his shoulder as you pant against him. “Fuck Dar you feel so good” you whimper, he whines and you feel his head nodding against your own. One of his hands falls from your breast to your hip, helping you grind against him harder, and both your moans pick up as you chase your releases.

Daryl’s whimpers grow more desperate and you can tell he’s close, you quicken your movements rolling your hips even harder as the familiar tightening in your core starts building, “Baby I’m gunna cum” you gasp, “Shit me too” Daryl groans, you rest your forehead against his before white hot pleasure consumes you, hips stuttering against his own as you both ride out your highs.

You let out a breathy laugh as you come down, nuzzling your face into his neck. “That was unexpected” you admit. “Yer” he replies, but you catch something in his tone looking up at him you frown “What’s wrong?” You ask gently, stroking your hand down the side of his face. Daryl swallows harshly before mumbling “Ya don’t regret it do ya? I didn’ mean for it ta go tha far, I got lost in it, lost in feeling ya against me”,

“Hey baby look at me” you coax letting his blue eyes meet yours “Daryl I could never regret you, never” you affirm, “Ok” he nods, “Does tha mean yah mine now?” He asks eyes hopeful “Daryl from the second I met you, I was yours” you admit, kissing him once more you feel him smile against your lips. Pulling away slightly he shyly mumbles “I’ve always been yours”.

After cleaning yourselves up the best you can you lay in the meadow, your head on his chest fingers interlocked together. Enjoying the peacefulness the forest gives, until you feel the incessant buzzing coming from your phone, pulling it out of your pocket you notice it’s your dad. “Hey dad, I know I know I’m sorry but Daryl he needed me, we are at the meadow. Yeah he’s safe now, we both are, but dad he’s beat up pretty bad. He can’t go back there today” you express down the phone, Daryl’s watching you hum and nod along to the conversation, “Ok thanks dad, we will make our way home, see you soon” you hang up the phone and turn to Daryl “Wha’s happening?” He asks worry crossing his face, “You’re staying at ours tonight, in the spare room, we will take it from there” you convey, “Yer ok” he agrees.

Standing up you offer your hand to him, “Come on then, let’s get back to mine, we will sort something”. He nods at you, “I love yer” you smile at him lacing your fingers with his “I love you too”.